Читать книгу The Pearl of Peace: or, The Little Peacemaker - Leslie Madeline - Страница 2

SALLIE MUNSON was the daughter of a man who had sailed as Captain of a schooner, bound for the West Indies, more than five years before the date of our story. He left a wife and seven children, of whom Sallie was the youngest, and the only daughter. At the time he left home she was just past six, and was therefore now eleven.

Five long, weary, waiting years of watching, suspense and anxiety, had left Mrs. Munson careworn and old before her time. Her eldest son was married and settled at a distance; the second had gone with his father as a sailor; the sixth boy, her darling, blue-eyed Jamie, was buried at the end of her little garden; leaving four children dependant on her labor for their support. To be sure, Abner, the oldest at home, was nearly seventeen; but though steady and honest, he lacked energy and thrift. When away from home he was the butt and laughing-stock of his more shrewd companions; and so his patient mother obtained what employment she could for him, under her own eye, and sent his brother Joseph, a stout, fun-loving lad of fifteen, to work in a neighboring tan yard.

Edward and Sallie went to school during the short sessions both in summer and winter, though the care and pains it cost their mother to fit them out in clothes and books, I can hardly describe.

Once a year Mrs. Barnes, the Captain's sister, came to the sea-shore to spend a few days, and always brought with her a bundle of half-worn clothes, out of which the widow made useful, if not fashionable, garments for her family.

It was shortly after one of these visits, that Sallie wore to school a dress, made from one given her by her aunt. It was a bright plaid, and with great pains had been made to fit her neatly. Whether the boddice and sleeves were in the prevailing mode, she was ignorant, until informed by her school-mate, Matilda.

This young girl had some good traits of character. She was diligent in her studies, and prompt in obliging a friend. But she had one terrible failing; a love of gossip or mischief-making, which rendered her dangerous to the peace of those with whom she associated.

This habit often led her much farther than she anticipated, and betrayed her into sundry exaggerations which she sometimes keenly regretted.

At recess, Cynthia Manning refused to lend a new book to Matilda; and to show her spite, she determined to make a quarrel between the cousins. The two girls lived not far apart, and usually walked home together in company with Hatty.

This time Matilda hurried her friend along, and began at once to say:

"It's strange you can't have anything new, without Cynthia being so envious. Just because you've got a handsome new gown, she's so mad, she can't say enough against it. She made all manner of fun of it behind your back, and called it real dowdy. 'I do declare,' she said, tossing back her head, 'for all Sallie is so set up with her new dress, I wouldn't be seen wearing such a vulgar-looking thing.'"

This was what had made Sallie exclaim in anger against her cousin. The reason Matilda was unwilling her companion should explain why she looked feverish, was because she well knew Hatty's character as a peace-maker; and her conscience loudly whispered that she had told much more than was true.

After the girls parted, and she went into her own home, do you think she was happy? Are quarrelsome people generally so? We shall see.

Matilda was the eldest of five children. The baby, as Master Tom, a sturdy little fellow of two years was called, was playing near the steps as she walked up the path from the gate. He gave a shout of welcome; but she pushed over his pile of stones with her foot, laughed at his cry of disappointment, and opened the door, with a frown on her face.

It was Wednesday; and the afternoon was a holiday. She felt quite sure there would be no play for her, and was resolved to show her displeasure at once.

She threw her pile of books into a chair, tossed her hat on another, and, passing through the common sitting-room, asked in a complaining tone, —

"Isn't dinner most ready?"

"Oh, Matilda!" said her mother, "you're just in time; run back as quick as you can to the store, and ask Mr. Pratt to cut you a thick slice of ham. Your father will be home in ten minutes, and be angry if dinner isn't ready. There, catch up your hat, and run quick."

"It's always the way," pouted Matilda, snatching the plate her mother held toward her. "I wanted to eat my dinner, and go nutting; but I never can do any thing."

She did not hurry in the least; but, just outside the gate, met her two brothers, who were quarreling about a jack-knife, one of them had found.

Instead of trying to make peace, she entered into the quarrel, and soon had both of them railing at her.

When her father came from his toil, hungry and impatient for his dinner, his wife was fretting; and his daughter nowhere in sight.