ill m THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA DAVIS GIFT OF Mrs. PAUL M. GRANT |P RANK HELD A SPY GLASS FOR LOUISE "JE VAIS MA PATRIE! EXCLAIMED THE YOIW* GIRL,. 1 'will be a gentleman, pa^a 60. I WILL BE A GENTLEMAN A BOOK FOR BOYS By MRS. TUTIIILL. " A ruffle, cravat, or a cane, With him is the pink of perfection ; A tassel or watch-key he deems The very tip-top of gentility; And plain common sense he esteeo Scarpe worthy ot decent civility." THIRTY-SEVENTH EDITION BOSTON: CROSBY AND NICHOLS. 1863. LIBRARY UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA DAVIS filtered accoidirg to Act of Congress, in the year 1844, by WILLIAM CROSBY, in the Clerk's office of tne maitict Court for the District of Massachusetts. CONTENTS. I. JUTENILE GENTLEMEN, 1 II. SENT TO SCHOOL, , 8 III. SISTERLY AFFECTION, 18 IV A RETURN, . 25 V. JOSEPH AT HOME, 29 VI. A SUDDEN RESOLUTION, 35 VII. THE GENTLEMAN SAILOR, 38 VIII. RECOLLECTIONS OF HOME, 46 IX. NEW ACQUAINTANCES, . 54 X. BEAU BRANDON ASHORE, 63 XI. THE PARTING, . . 68 XII. A STORM AT SEA, . . 72 Kill. A SAIL, . . 82 XIV. FATAL, ... 87 XV. REMEMBERED KINDNESS, 99 XVI. A SURPRISE, . 102 XVII. THE AZORES, . 110 XVIII. HOMEWARD BOUND, . 117 XIX. HOME, ... 125 XX. ANOTHER MEETING, 131 XXI. BETTER HOPES, . . 137 XXII. AN UNEXPECTED RESOLVE, , . 143 CHAPTER I. JUVENILE GENTLEMEN. I WILL be a gentleman ! Why ? because you whisk about a little dandy cane, smoke cigars, and toss your hat on one side of your head ? Is that the way to be a gentleman ? One afternoon, last spring, there had been a sudden gust of wind and a slight shower of rain. It soon passed over, the sun shone out brightly, and the rain-drops sparkled like diamonds upon the trees of Boston Common. The Boston boys love the Common, and well they may, for where could they find a more glo- rious play-ground ? During the shower the boys had taken shelter under the trees ; as soon as it had passed they resumed their amusements. On one of the crossings, or walks, appeared a small, plainly-dressed old woman, with a cane in 1 2 JUVENILE GENTLEMEN. one hand and a large green umbrella in the other* She was bent with age and infirmity, and walked slowly. The green umbrella was open, and turned up in the most comical manner. The wind had suddenly reversed it, without the knowl* edge or consent of the old lady, and she now held it in one hand, like a huge flower with a long stalk. " Hurrah ! hurrah ! " cried one of the boys, pointing to the umbrella, " mammoth cabbages for sale ! mammoth cabbages ! " The whole rabble of boys joined in the cry, and ran hooting after the poor old woman. She looked around at them with grave wonder, and endeavoured to hasten her tottering footsteps. They still pursued her, and at length began pelting with pebbles the up-standing umbrella ; some crying " Mammoth cabbages ! " and others, "New-fashioned sun-shades ! " She turned again, and said, with tears in her eyes, " What have I done, my little lads, that you should thus trouble me ? " "It is a shame," said a neatly dressed, fine looking boy, who rushed through the crowd to the rescue of the poor old woman. " Madam," said he, " your umbrella has turn- JUVENILE GENTLEMEN. 3 bd in the wind ; will you allow me to slose it for you ?" "Thank you," she replied. "Then that is what those boys are hooting at. Well, it does look funny," added she, as she looked at the cause of their merriment. The kind-hearted boy endeavoured to turn it down, but it was no easy task ; the whalebones seemed obstinately bent upon standing upright. The boys now changed the object of their at- tack, and the pebbles rattled like hail upon the manly fellow who was struggling to relieve the poor woman from her awkward predicament. "You are a mean fellow, to spoil our fun," said they ; " but you can't come it ; you can't come it ; cabbage leaves will grow upward." He however at length succeeded, and, closing the troublesome umbrella, handed it to the old woman with a polite bow. " Thank you, thank you> a thousand times, Sir," said she, "and I should like to know your name, that I may repay you whenever I can find an opportunity." " By no means," replied he, " T am happy to ftave rendered you this trifling service ; " and he walkei away. 4 JUVENILE GENTLEMEN. *' Well," said she, " whoever you are your father and mother have reason to be proud of you, for you are a gentleman, a perfect gen- tleman." And so he will be ; and I wish I could tell you his name, that you may see if my prophecy does not prove true. " Manners make the man," you may often have written in very legible characters in your copy- book ; they certainly do go very far towards making the gentleman. I knew a boy once who thought a " long coat," as he called it, would make him a gentleman. Christopher, (for so I shall take the liberty to call him, though that was not his real name,) Christopher lived in the country, and was going to New York, on his first visit. His father was very indulgent, and, yielding to his entreaty, al- lowed the country tailor to make Christopher a blue broadcloth dress-coat, with bright gilt but- tons. Silly boy ! he was mightily pleased with his beautiful coat, and tried it on again and again, and almost wrung his neck to see how it fitted him in the back and about the shoulders. He did not wear it, for fear of taking off the gloss, till he got to New York. No sooner had he step. JUVENILE GENTLEMEN. O ped upon the dock there, than one of the boys belonging to the gang that always assemble about the steamboat landings espied the glossy new coat. u Mister ! Mister ! " said he, " how much will you take for your long-tailed coat ? " A country lad, somewhat older than Christo- pher, who had before visited the city, was to be his guide through the great metropolis. They hurried along without taking much notice of the insult, Christopher merely saying, " I suppose these are what they call dock-rats." But it is no easy matter to get rid of the mis- chievous rogues. A whole troop of young tatter- demalions followed, crying " Mister ! Mister ! what will you take for the long-tailed blue ? " Christopher turned an imploring look towards them, which struck them as peculiarly ludicrous, for they began imitating it, with their thumbs on their noses and their fingers in rapid motion, The country boys, quite dismayed, started upon a full run, the skirts of Christopher's coat flying out behind him, like the tail of a kite. Their persecutors took mud from the gutters wever, accomplished, and the vessel righted. Che storm raged fiercely for several hours ; the training that the ship had undergone loosened the timbers, so that there was water in th hold, and the pumps were occasionally used. As soon as Frank could make his way to the place where he had left Joseph, he went to see what had become of him. To Frank's utter astonishment, there he still lay in his hammock. Whether he had clung to it the whole time or not could rot be ascertained ; there he was, deathly pale, cu:d &o weak as to be unable to move. " Fraak, v gfc'd fce> *n a feeble voice, " Is it you ? I believe I am *Vu& I ani not fit to die. Wha 78 A STORM AT SEA. a bad son and brother I have been. What shal I do ? " "Ask God's forgiveness," said Frank, deeply moved. " I have," was the reply. After a few moments' pause, Joseph inquired, * How near home are we, Frank ? " " We are quite distant ; you know we had not made very rapid progress after we left Gibraltar, when we carried away our masts " " Carried away our masts ! " interrupted Jo- seph. "When? how?" Frank commenced telling the sad tale, but svi extreme was the weakness of Joseph that he fe asleep during the recital. He awoke after some hours, refreshed and evi- dently better; the crisis was past, and recovery probable. Great was his astonishment on learning the full extent of the catastrophe ; and it was diffi- cult to convince him that the ship was not even then in immediate danger of being engulfed in the ocean. The danger, though not immediate, was immi- nent. There was the ship that came so gallantly out nf port, every sail proudly swelling to the breeze, bearing high aloft the stars and stripes A ST3RM AT SEA. 79 BO dear to every American, there she lay, maimed, deformed, floating at the mercy of every wave ; her hardy crew lessened by death ; the re- mainder sick, disheartened, almost in despair their only hope that some vessel might heave in sight and take them from the wreck. In consequence of the small number of service- able hands on board, it was some time before they succeeded in raising a jury-mast ; when this was accomplished, they spread their sails and steered for Fayal, one of the Azore Islands. Brandon was now rapidly recovering. He had no friend but Frank ; no one else troubled them- selves about him, or rendered him the slightest attention. Gratitude, like one fresh flower in a desert, sprung up in the heart of Joseph Brandon ; and its kindred flower, affection, must soon bloom in its neighbourhood. The selfishness of his na- ture had yielded, and he allowed himself to be more influenced by his young friend that he ever before had been by any human being. Moreover, that Almighty Being whose wonders are upon the great deep, was now often present to his thoughts ; for in his agony, with death staring him in the face, he had prayed. During the long and tedious hours of lone& $0 A STORM AT SEA. ness that he now suffered, there was abundan time lor reflection. His life passed before him like a moving panorama. What had he eveT done for the happiness of others ? Nothing. How had he sought his own ? By trying to ap- pear what he was not. He wished to appear rich, he was not so. He wished to appear brave, at heart he was a coward. He wished to be con- sidered polite and refined, he was rude and coarse. In striving after appearances he had to- tally neglected reality. His mother, his excellent, loving mother, she was no sv revealed to him in her true character. The largo tears rolled over his pale, thin face, as he thought of her neglected counsels, and all the trouble he had occasioned her. Fanny, sweet Fanny, seemed to hover near him like some mild spirit of love and tenderness. Susan, too, in spite of her candor and plain- dealing severity, was a generous sister. How could he ever repay them all for their self-sacri- ficing kindness? He thought, again and again, of that last fortnight in Boston, when, instead of earnestly looking for some respectable employ- ment, he had strutted about the streets as if he .jyere as rich as Croesus, until his time and money r A STORM AT SEA. 81 were spent, and he was forced, as a last resort^ to go to sea. That home, which he had once despised, what spot on earth now seemed so lovely ! " Home, sweet home." When the sullen waves dashed at midnight against the shattered vessel, O, what ag- ony thrilled through his soul as those words seemed to vibrate there, u Efane ' aweet home ! There 's no place like home ! " CHAPTER Xili. A SAIL. ON the fourth morning after the ship had car- ried away her masts, the joyful sound was heard, "A sail! a sail!" Suddenly a fresh breeze came over the water ; the vessels neared and neared, and the crew of the dismasted ship became almost frantic with joy- it was soon changed to the deepest dejection ; for the vessel bore off in an easterly direction, and either saw not their forlorn condition, or chose to take no notice of their signals of dis- tress. To increase their anxiety, the leak was gain- ing fast upon them, and the labor at the pumps was incessant. Captain Wye, who had just re- covered from sickness, which had been succeed ed by great debility, seemed entirely bewildered and knew not what directions to give for the safe- ty and preservation of the crew. Some of the sailors, in a state of extreme des- peration, drank freely of ardent spirits, and be- came mutinous and disobedient. It was necessary that all should work, by turns, at the pumps. Towards the morning of the fifth day, while the captain, Joseph Brandon, Frank Wood, and two common sailors, were sleeping soundly, during the brief space allowed them for rest, the first mate, with the remain- der of the crew, had taken the long-boat and es- caped. One of the sailors, accustomed to wake, from habit, at the time appointed, went upon deck without being called, and found it entirely desert- ed. He immediately gave the alarm, and all who remained on board were soon upon deck. Frank's courage had held out manfully, hith- erto, but when he saw the terrible condition to which they were now reduced, he sat down and wept piteously. " My father, my dear father, I shall never see you again," said he, with a burst- ing heart. Brandon, who was but just able to crawl upon 84 A SAIL. deck, at the sight of Frank's sorrow was in abso lute despair. The water was gaining rapidly in the hold. The sailors said the vessel could not remain above water more than twelve hours longer. The captain seemed utterly to have lost his reason. He was calm, but it was not the calm- ness of a strong mind ; it was the fearful indiffer- ence of idiotic derangement. The sailors went to work to construct a raft. They endeavoured to cheer Frank with the hope that they might thus be saved, and he aroused himself to assist them in their labor. As soon as it was finished, he attempted to go below to get his chest, or at least some of his clothing. It was already under water. Joseph was sorely distressed when he found that his chest, too, was not to be recovered. They had hitherto had an abundance of water and provisions ; but the men in the long-boat had carried off a quantity, and what remained would not long hold out. Far in the distance the anxious eyes of one of the sailors discovered a mere speck in the hori- zon. It might be a sail, it might be only a cloud. It grew larger and larger. It was a sail 1 A SAIL. 85 O, how the hearts of the poor fellows throbbed with anxiety as they watched the increasing mast, and then the hull of the vessel, as it came up fully to view. It was steering towards them. It came nearer and nearer hour after hour. At last they shouted, and made signals, though still too distant to be heard. On, on, came the vessel, bounding over the waves. " Captain ! " said Frank, " Captain ! we shall be saved." " Well, what of that ? " said the poor captain, without the slightest expression of joy. 44 Could I not possibly get at my chest ? " said Brandon. " What will people think of me in these old clothes ? " 46 It would not be safe to make the attempt," was the reply of one of the sailors, an experi- enced tar. 44 Never mind your clothes, Joe, if your life is saved. There comes a boat, hurrah!" cried Frank. It was an English brig, bound for Fayal. The boat was soon alongside. 44 Halloo! shipmates!" said a bluff English sailor ; u you do n't spread much canvass. I 'm afraid you 're bound for Davy's locker." And Ob A SAIL. he I jmped upon the deck, now almost level with the ocean, followed by his companions. The story of their misfortunes was soon told. " Hurry ! hurry ! " said the first speaker ; " we nave n't a second to lose. What ails your cap- tain ? He seems in a brown study." w He has been very ill, and since his misfor- tunes seems to have lost his reason. We must help him on board," said Frank, taking him kindly by the hand. " We must leave the poor Sally Ann." " That was my wife's name," said the captain. " Must we go ? Well, just as you say " ; and he stepped into the boat. Brandon, Frank, and the sailors followed. A few casks of biscuit, and some other things of little value, were all that could be saved from the wreck. They rowed for the brig; and, after having been cordially welcomed by the English captain and crew, they turned to see, once more, the wreck of the Sally Ann. "The shattered thing Had passed away and left no mark." CHAPTER XIV. FAYAL. WITH a fair wind the brig went on towards Fayal. There seemed but little change in the captain from day to day, and yet he was declin- ing. Frank attended upon him with as much de- votedness as if he had been his father. The cry of " Land, land," the third day after they left the wreck, started the captain from a long sleep. Frank was sitting by him. He knew him, and calling him by name, said '' Was not that the cry of land ? " " It was," said Frank, pleased to see that the captain had once more his reason. " Here is Captain Brown who will tell you what it is." " How are you, Captain ? Better, I hope. We shall soon be in port. The land is a high moun tain in one of the Azores, called the Peak," said the English captain. jffc** ' , 88 FATAL. " I have a dim recollection of escape from a wreck. The poor Sally Ann, did she go down, Frank ? " asked Captain Wye, in a mournful voice. " She did, Sir, but all were saved," replied Frank. " You are a good lad, Frank, God bless you," said the poor captain ; then, lowering his voice almost to a whisper, he said, " You pray some- times, Frank, do n't you ? Well, pray for me, for I am going to my long account. Bury me in the ocean, Captain, I shall rest better there." For a few moments he was silent ; he thought of his far-distant home. He then called Frank again, and said, u Here, my brave boy, take my watch, it is all I have to give you, it keeps true time ; and when you get home, go to New Bed- ford and tell my wife all about my misfortunes. Call the other boys." The sailors were called. 44 Well, my lads, your captain 's just going," said he. " Keep steady, boys, and then, you know, all 's well. There 's nothing more com- fortable than a clean conscience when one is about to die. Brandon, I thought you would have gone before me, but it seems you stay a FATAL. 89 'hile longer. Be kind to Frank, whatever hap- pens ; he has been kind enough to you. God -aless you, Captain Brown. Take good care of these poor fellows." And here the captain's mind wandered again ; he muttered indistinctly for a while, and then was for ever silent. In a few hours he had breath- ed his last. " They saw the pomp of day depart, The cloud resign its golden crown, When to the ocean's beating heart The sailor's wasted corse went down. Peace he to those whose graves are made Beneath the bright and silver wave." The town of Villa de Horta, in Fayal, is in- habited principally by the Portuguese. At the time of the arrival of Captain Brown with the wrecked seamen from the Sally Ann, it happened there was no American consul there, and only one American resident in the place. Vessels from the United States, however, frequently visit- ed the island ; and the captain, after giving each of A SURPRISE. 109 " I shall say, that neither my wife noi myself are capable of judging of character, and that you are a man of infinite discernment," said the Don, somewhat sarcastically. " But I am not troubled about it. Ask Captain Harrison if he can take two passengers, and what will be the passage- money to New York." " I will, Don, and moreover I shall ask him if he ever heard of such a person as Dr. Wood. Are they to be cabin passengers ? " " Certainly," replied the Don, who had no idea of making a half-way business of the benevolenj task he had undertaken. CHAPTER XVII. THE AZORES. " HAVE you ever known much of the Azores t ' inquired the Don of Frank. " I have read very little about them," he re- plied. " I know they lie ahout 800 miles from Cape St. Vincent, and are supposed to have been discovered and settled by the Portuguese. I have seen volcanic specimens from these islands in the mineralogical cabinet of Yale College, in Con- necticut, and that is all the information that I have about them." u It was of their volcanic origin that I was about to speak," continued the Don. " Some, if not all of them, must have been formed by earthquakes or volcanic eruptions. I wish the American consul had not been absent from Fayal. during your stay, as he would have accompanied THE AZORES. Ill us on a little trip that I have projectei for the morrow. I am going to take you, if it is agree- able, over to St. George. With a fair wind we can go over in about five hours. There was a tremendous eruption on that island in 1808, and its present condition affords much that is interest- ing." Accordingly, the next morning, the Don ant! Donna, with their young guests, embarked in a small vessel for St. George. The sky was beau- tifully clear and serene, but the Don said they were subject to violent winds in that region, and could never be sure of the continuance of such delightful weather, even during a single day. " You know," said he, " they say that no ser- pents of any kind (through the influence of St Patrick) can live in Ireland. It is true that our fertile islands give birth to no poisonous reptiles, and it is generally believed that if they were brought here, they would soon expire." " I shall always think of Fayal as a little para- dise," remarked Frank. " Notwithstanding the one noxious animal that you have found here, Mr. Mudge," said the Donna. " He is of foreign growth," replied Frank, " and 112 THE AZORES. it is a wonder how he can thrive among beings so different.''' By this time they had arrived at St. George. After a ride of four miles, they came to the foot of the crater ; its elevation is about 3,500 feet. They mounted up its rough sides, and had, be- sides the view of the crater, a fine prospect of the sea, dotted with the other islands belonging to the Aeores. " The American consul, who was resident at Fayal at the time of this eruption," said the Don, 44 gave the best account of it that I have seen, in a letter to a friend of mine, who then resided at St. Michael's, one of the largest of the Azores. It was as follows : 44 4 On Sunday, the 1st of May, at one, P. M., walking in the balcony of my house at St. Anto- nio, I heard noises like the report of heavy can- non at a distance, and concluded there was some sea-engagement in the vicinity of the island. But soon after, casting my eyes towards the island of St. George, ten leagues distant, I perceived a dense volume of smoke rising to an immense height ; it was soon judged that a volcano had burst out about the centre of that island, and this was rendered certain when night came on, the oeen here to consult the Doctor, he is not hero now " ; and the waiter was about to close the door. But Frank, hearing the well-known voice of that beloved relative, rushed by the servant and ran up the stairs to the library, in spite of his bawling, " Halloo, shipmate ! I tell you your father is not in ttts house. The boy must be rav- ing distracted." Being disturbed by the noise, Dr. Wood step- ped out of his library, and Frank stood before him. For a moment they both remained motionless HOME. 127 and speechless. The Doctor hardly believing his own eyes ; Frank amazed at his father's pale and haggard appearance. At length Dr. Wood exclaimed, " Great God ! ( thank thee!" and throwing his arms around Frank's neck, pressed him to his grateful heart. The sailors, who left the Sally Ann in the long- boat, had been picked up by a homeward-bound vessel, and Wd reached New York about a month before the arrival of the Sea-gull ; bringing the news that the captain, and four sailors, went down with the wreck of that unfortunate vessel. Dr Wood had made inquiry of one of these sail- ors, and learned of him that Frank was among the lost. His grief at the melancholy death of his only son was such as to have occasioned an illness from which he was just recovering, and which had left him with the extreme paleness that so much alarmed Frank. He received his noble- hearted Frank as one restored from the dead. After an hour spent in conversation, as he looked into the bright blue eyes, sparkling with pleasure, and saw the fresh healthy countenance of Frank his heart was overflowing with Christian grati 128 HOME. " Poor Brandon, I must go back to him, for he 'trill be impatient to see me," said Frank. " And who is he ? " inquired Dr. Wood- Frank briefly related the story of Joseph's suf- ferings. His father told him to order the carriage and bring him home with him immediately ; add* ing, " Poor boys ! I suppose your luggage will easily be transported." Although Frank had prepared Joseph to expect to see in his father a perfect gentleman, he was struck with the elegance and dignity of Dr. Wood s appearance ; and the cordial politeness with which he received him put him at once entirely at ease. After two days spent very pleasantly in New YorK, Brandon began to be extremely anxious to see his mother and sisters. Frank went with him to make arrangements for his journey home. The morning came on which he was to leave. Frank had been so faithful and persevering in his kindness to Joseph, that he had become much attached to him. It is a principle in our na- ture to love whatever we bestow kindness upon ; even u The bird that we nurse, is the bird that we love." Joseph, on his part, felt both gratitude and HOME. 129 affection towards his young friend. Though younger than himself, he had looked up to him for advice and example. By that example, he had corrected his erroneous opinions with regard to heing a gentleman. He saw that Frank was very different from the ideal that his own mind had furnished; yet, wherever he went, he was recognized as a gentleman. He acknowledged to* himself how much Frank's high moral principles had contributed to this, and he very naturally came to the conclusion that it was not best for him any longer to be a gay, dissipated fop. When Dr. Wood was about to part with Joseph, he put into his hand a well-filled purse, saying, " Mr. Brandon, I will not subject you to the pain that an honorable, independent young man. would feel at receiving pecuniary obligation- Whenever it shall be perfectly convenient, you can, if you like, repay me." " Certainly, I shall be most happy to do so,'* replied Joseph ; " I am greatly obliged to you t Sir." " I shall be in no haste for the money, and am sure, in the course of a few years, you will have saved more than that amount from your own earnings. Keep up a constant correspondence 130 HOME. with Frank. It will be an advantage to both of you, and whenever you can find leisure fron? more important avocations, come and see us. 1 trust I shall be able, during the coming year, to pay you a visit, with Frank, and make the ac- quaintance of your mother and sisters." When the boys parted, Frank said, " Do you know Joseph, that this is my birthday ? " " I did not." 4 It is ; I am just seventeen ; and I should be perfectly happy were I not obliged to part with you. But let us try to meet every year on this anniversary, and then we shall be sure to keep up our friendship." Brandon's heart was so full that he could hard- ly reply. He thought it unmanly to shed tears, and brushed away the intruders from his eyes, Tears that flow from gratitude are no mark of weakness in man or woman ; to either, they are the natural expression of genuine sensibility. CHAPTER XX. ANOTHER MEETING. BRANDON pursued his way homeward as fast a? steamboats and locomotives could convey him; yet, to his eager wishes, they seemed to move but slowly. When he reached Boston, the associations con- nected with that place were painful and mortify- ing. " What a silly boy was I, to parade about these streets, trying to make people think I was some- body ! And what consequence was it what these passing strangers thought of me ? O, it was too ridiculous/' thought Joseph. He now walked across the city quite uncon- cernedly, in his sailor's dress, not fearing " the world's dread laugh," and took passage in a stagecoach for his native village. 32 ANOTHER MEETING. As he rode along, sad forebodings filled hia heart. What changes might have taken place ! As the well known spire of the village church came in sight, it was impossible to restrain those tears which appeared to have burst from a long time sealed up fountain ; tears of penitence for his undutifulness as a son, his unkindness as a brother. They were as refreshing to the soul as evening dew to the delicate flower. Joseph alighted at the well known gate. The roses were in full bloom ; the grass, fresh and nicely cut ; every thing bore the air of comfort. With a trembling hand he raised the latch, open- ed the door, and walked into the parlour. It had undergone an entire change ; not one familiar ob- ject met his eye among the new and handsome furniture that adorned the apartment. A lady, an entire stranger, entered ; and, seeing a sailor thus unceremoniously surveying the room, she was about to scream with alarm, when Joseph, very politely bowing, said, " Excuse me, Madam, does riot Mrs. Brandon live here ? " " She does not," replied the lady ; " she has removed to the small cottage on the other side of the green." ANOTHER MEETING. 135 " Do you know if she and her family are well * *" inquired Joseph, with a tremulous voice. " Mrs. Brandon is well, I believe, but one of her daughters has been very ill for some time past," was the reply. Joseph could scarcely articulate, "Which one ? " The lady did not know. Joseph hurried across the green to the small cottage, knocked at the door, and it was opened by Susan. " Joseph ! Joseph ! " she screamed, and threw her arms about his neck. Immediately recovering from her surprise, she motioned her brother to remain silent, and whis pered in his ear, " Our dear Fanny is ill ; so very ill that there is but little hope of her recov- ery. Come in softly." She led him into an humble little parlour, where were crowded the familiar movables for which he had looked in vain at his mother's own house. Mrs. Brandon sat by the bedside of her precious child, who seemed to be insensible. She watched " Her breathing soft and low, As in her breast the wave of life Kept heaving to and fro. 134 ANOTHER MEETING. Suddenly, the apparently dying girl started, opened her eyes, and faintly articulated, " I heard Susan call Joseph. Has he come home ? " " I will go and see, dearest," replied Mrs. Brandon. She hastened to the parlour. " Mother ! " It was all that Joseph could utter, but the word came up from the depth of a penitent heart, and volumes could not have expressed to that mother all which the tone of voice conveyed. Never, since she held her first-born an infant in her arms, had such an appeal been made to her love, the past was all forgiven. Mrs. Brandon soon hastened back to Fanny. u Mother, has brother indeed come home ? " said the invalid. " He has, Fanny. Do you wish to see him ? " " I do, immediately, for I fear I shall remain but a very short time." Wasted by long illness, Fanny was but the shadow of herself, pale even to ghastliness; she seemed already to have approached the con- fines of the world of spirits She reached out her thin white hand to Joseph, and a lovely smile passed over her wan face. ANOTHER MEETING. 135 "Fanny, my own sweet sister!" exclaimed Ac, " forgive me ! I have not been a kind brothei to you." " I do not remember that I have any thing to forgive," she replied, pressing his hand to her lips. " I have not long to live, but since you are restored to our mother and Susan, I shall die con- tented. " Do not speak of dying, Fanny ; I trust we shall all live together happily many years," said her brother. " Just as it may please God," fervently and solemnly said the lovely girl. " I am resigned to his holy will." From this time she began to recover. By that wonderful sympathy * that exists between body and * The celebrated Dr. Rush relates the following anec- dote : "During the time that I passed at a country school in Cecil county in Maryland, I often went, on a holyday, with my schoolmates, to see an eagle's nest, up- on the summit of a dead tree in the neighbourhood of the school, during the incubation of the bird. The daughter of the farmer in whose field the tree stood, and with whom I became acquainted, married and settled in this city (Philadelphia) about forty years ago. In our occasional interviews, we now and then spoke of 'he in- nocent haunts and rural pleasures of our youth, and among others of the eagle's nest in her father's field. 136 ANOTHER MEETING. mind, no sooner was the latter relieved from the weight of anxiety that had long pressed upon it, than the physical system was equally relieved. She was soon restored to perfect health. A few years ago I was called to visit this woman when die was in the lowest stage of typhus fever. Upon en- cering the room 1 caught her eye, and with a cheerful tone of voice said, only, ' The eagle's nest. 1 She seized my hand, without being able to speak, and discovered strong emotions of pleasure in her countenance, probably from a sudden association of all her early enjoyments With the words which I uttered. From that time she be- gan to recover. She is now living, and seldom fails, when we meet, to salute me with the echo of ' The ea- gle's nest.' " CHAPTER XXI. BETTER HOPES. JOSEPH'S letter, from Marseilles, had nol reached Mrs. Brandon, and not one word had she heard from him during his absence. She did not know even in what ship he had embark- ed, and her anxiety for him had been unceas- ing. Soon after he left home, finding her affairs much embarrassed, she leased her own pretty house, and took the small cottage. In this way she thought she should be able to pay off, in time, the debts which Joseph's foolish extrava- gance had left upon her hands. Fanny had been a long time in delicate health, and her illness was increased by the troubles that had weighed down her youthful spirits. Sorrow, and sympathy with her mother and 138 BETTER HOPES. Fanny, had softened the harshness of Susan's character. " Why, Sue," said Joseph, a few days after his return, " I should scarcely know you ; really you are much improved." " I might say the same of yourself, Joseph," 1 was the reply. " I should hardly recognize your former self in your conversation, unless when you boast of that 6 famous French dinner-party,' or speak grandiloquently of your great friends, - the ' Don and Donna Francesco Rebeiro.' r " I do not intend to speak boastingly ; I thank you for the hint," he gently replied, " and hope I shall profit by it. I am truly grateful to those excellent people. I intend learning French and Portugese as soon as possible, that I may con verse with them whenever I visit them again. 1 used to feel like a complete simpleton when they were all talking around, and I was not able to understand a single sentence. I am going to set myself about some employment whenever I have an opportunity, that I may no longer be a bur- den to our kind mother. I hope to relieve the pressure that is upon her, so that she can go back again to her own house." "Bravely spoken, Joseph," said Susan, with a Uttle of her former sarcastic manner. BETTER HOPES. 139 " A nd bravely, by God's help, shall it be done,' 5 warmly replied Joseph. The purse that Joseph received from Dr. Wood contained one hundred dollars, all of which remained, excepting the amount of his fare from New York. The expenses of Fanny's illness had pressed heavily upon Mrs. Brandon. Joseph told her of the generous loan he had received, and insisted that she should make use of half of it, while he would carefully use the remainder until he found some employment. " I have been so entirely occupied since your return," said Mrs. Brandon, " that I had quite forgotten to tell you that your Uncle Jones has removed to Boston, and that he is in want of a clerk in his counting-house. Go to him next week, and state your wishes and intentions, and I will write to him at the same time. I have no doubt you can have the place, if you wish to be a merchant."" " I wish for any honorable employment, whereby I can maintain myself respectably, and in time support you and my sisters in a comfort- able manner," replied Joe ; " and as Fanny is so much better, and I have already been, home a fortnight, I will go, if you think best, to-morrow.' 140 BETTER HOPES' " I am sorry to part with you so soon, but per. haps it would be well to go soon, as the place may not long remain vacant. Shall you go in your sailor dress ? " " No, mother, I have another suit that I have carefully kept. the gift of kind friends. How many excellent people there are in the world 1 Yet I doubt if I should have experienced their kindness had it not been for the unmistakable good-breeding and gentleman-like deportment of my friend, Frank Wood." " I should like much to see that amiable Frank Wood," said Fanny. " I wish to thank him for his kindness to you." " All in good time, Fanny dear," said Joseph. u He has promised to make us an early visit," The next morning Brandon started for Boston, and rode on the outside of the stajrocoach with- out quarrelling with his fellow-passengers, a peaceable, well-behaved young man, intent upon making every body as comfortable as possible. His uncle, although he received him kindly, looked somewhat askance at his gay foreign dress, the one he had purchased at Fayal. Joseph, observing it, said, " 1 hope, Sir, if you re- ceive me into your counting-room, that I shall soon BETTER HOPES. 141 be able to purchase a more suitable dress than this, which has such a foreign air." " Such a foppish air," replied his uncle. " You look like a paroquet." " It is too foppish entirely, and I shall be right glad to exchange it for one of American manu- facture, and true Yankee plainness," said Jo- seph. " That you shall do very soon, if you succeed, as I think you will. When can you begin ? " " To-morrow, if you please, sir." " Well, I like your promptness. The salary is five hundred dollars a year. Be honest and faith- ful, and another year I will add two hundred more to it." The morning -found Joseph seated among a number of other clerks in a large counting-room. At first, he was, of course, ignorant and awkward, but so great was his desire for improvement that he soon overcame all obstacles. Faithful and honest he was, giving entire satis- faction to his uncle, and gaining the good will of all with whom he was associated. The first present that Joseph made, from his own salary, after he had remitted the hundred Frank blushed deeply as he replied, " I am too young to think much of such high concerns as matrimony, if that is what you intimate ; yet I must say, that if in after years I do enter into tha condition, I hope my lady-love may resemble your sweet sister Fanny." "She could not resemble a better girl," was Joseph's reply. Then, changing the subject ab- ruptly, he said, " Frank, why was it that you never lectured me on board ship ? You saw me rough and rude as a bear, and far more disagree- able ; yet you led me gently to follow your exam- ple. I have often thought of it with wonder, how you could have gained such an irresistible influ- ence over me. That Temperance pledge that I gave you I have scrupulously kept, and it has doubtless saved me from immense evils. Was I not a constant source of mortification to you on shore ? " " Not quite so bad as that, Joseph." " Well, Frank, I have given up all idea of be- ing a gentleman, as I then understood the word, and shall be quite contented if I can become what I once despised, a respectable man." u T have no doubt, Joseph, that you will become 146 AN UNEXPECTED RESOLVE. both in time. If it is not an impertinent question, how old is your sister Fanny ? " " Sixteen, sweet sixteen." Dr. Wood was much pleased with the Brandonsi and invited them all to pay him a visit in New York, whenever Don Francesco and his lady ar- rived. It was not many weeks after their return home that the good Doctor and Frank wrote to announce their arrival. Mr. Jones gave Joseph permis- sion to accompany his mother and sisters to New York. The Don and Donna were agreeably surprised to hear Joseph address them in French and Por- tuguese. He had so diligently applied himself tu the study of these languages during his leisure hours, that he already spoke them with some fa- cility. Frank Wood's good opinion of Fanny did not suffer on a more intimate acquaintance. He was delighted to hear the Donna say that she hal the most charming smile and the most dove-like eyes that she ever saw. He was almost as much pleased when she spoke of Joseph's improve rnent. "My father," said Frank, " thinks he will AN UNEXPECTED RESOLVE. 147 make one of the most respectable merchants in Boston, And allow me to tell you that it is say- ing a great deal, for there are no more polished gentlemen in our country than some of the Boston merchants." " I like him exceedingly, and hope he will soon pay us another visit," said the Donna. " He may possibly no so. for Mr. Jones intends sending him to Europe on business. I should not be surprised if Madame and Mademoiselle La Tourette should not recognize him, he is so much improved since ' that famous French din- ner.'" " Did I not hear you speak of Mademoiselle La Tourette ? " inquired Joseph, who had caught the sound of her name. " I said, Joseph, that she would scarcely rec- ognize you ; so much have you changed of late." " Then I must beg your ring, to serve as a tal- isman when I shall see her again. Will you give it to me ? I am going to Marseilles before many months." " Certainly, if you wish it," replied Frank, tak- ing it from his finger. " I hope you will wear it at another famous French dinner-party." 14S AN UNEXPECTED RESOLVE. " O, better than that," replied his friend, press- ing the ring upon his little finger. " I hope it may be worn at the famous wedding-party of Mrs. Joseph Brandon." After a few weeks spent in seeing whatever New York affords to interest a stranger, the Bran- dons returned home. The Don and Donna accom- panied them to Boston, and then pursued their journey through the United States. Brandon returned to his counting-room, with a firmer resolution than ever to be an honorable and upright merchant, and a Christian gentle- man. THE FN C THIS BOOK IS DUE ON THE LAST DATE STAMPED BELOW RENEWED BOOKS ARE SUBJECT TO IMMEDIATE RECALL JUN 1 3 1967 N2 464417 PS3111 Tuthill, L.C.H. T5 I will be a gentleman. 18 LIBRARY UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA DAVIS l