The old market-cart

CHILDREN'S BOOK
COLLECTION

LIBRARY OF THE

UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA

LOS ANGELES

Collection of
Children's Books

BEN. p. 5.

THE OLD IAEKET-CAET.

MRS. F. B. SMITH,

AUTHOR OF " FANFAN STORIES," ETC.

Boston :

Published by D. Lotkrop & Co.
Dover. N. H. : G. T. Day & Co.

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1870, by

WARREN AND BLAKESLEE,
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of

ilu^sacuusetts.

CONTENTS,

CHAPTER I.

GILL 5

CHAPTER II.

DAISIES AND' THISTLES, 15

CHAPTER III.

THE PEASE FAMILY, . 26

CHAPTER IV.

GILL'S GARDEN TALKS, 34

CHAPTER V.

MRS. BETH AND HER CAT 46

CHAPTER VI.

BABY JACK 56

CHAPTER VII.

STRAWBERRIES, 66

4 CONTENTS.

CHAPTER VIII.

HOME LOVE,

CHAPTER IX.

GARDEN RICHES, ....

CHAPTER X.

MRS. BETH'S HOME, 98

CHAPTER XI.

GILL'S ROSES AND CANDLES, 106

CHAPTER XII.

THE CHILDREN'S GUESTS, . . . ^ . . .114

CHAPTER XIII.

LITTLE SALLY'S SICKNESS, .12$

CHAPTER XIV.

MORE GARDEN TALKS, 133

CHAPTER XV.

MRS. BETH'S REQUEST, 147

THE OLD MARKET-CART.

CHAPTER I.

GILL.

IT stood with its thills upon the low
stone wall that separated the barn-yard
from the house-yard. There were wedges
behind the wheels to keep the cart from
rolling back, for it was little Sally Reed's
baby-house just now. She had brought
an armful of hay from the barn and spread
it upon the floor of her little oblong room,
and had put the three-legged milking-
stool in one corner, and there she sat
nursing her great rag-baby. She felt very
grand indeed, up there, — the mistress of
a house in the air, and the mother of so
precious a child as her black-eyed, black-

6 THE OLD MARKET-CART.

haired Jessie. How she loved that little
bundle of rags, which seemed to her warm
heart a living thing and beautiful ! and
how she loved the old cart, and enjoyed
the hours when it was resting !

Whatever has done good service, is en-
titled to rest, and the old market-cart was
no idler. Its strong wheels had often been
in swift motion, and many a' bundle had it
borne safely to the desired destination.

Gill looked upon it with a sort of affec-
tion. He was Mr. Reed's farmer, a Scotch-
man by birth, and a good-natured, honest,
kind-hearted man. His figure was tall
and lank and awkward ; but such a genial
face shone out from under bushy, yellow
locks, that little Benjamin and Sally Reed
thought him almost handsome. His hair
seemed to them quite like the glory which
artists put around the heads of their
saints, and they never dreamed of criticis-
ing Gill's aspect. To them he was simply

GILL. 7

" Our Gill ; " and when children say. this,
their heart is in the expression. The
Scotchman had been with Mr. Reed ever
since Ben and Sally were born, and their
world would have been very strange and
imperfect without him. Their father was
away at business all day in the city, three
miles distant, and Gill managed the land
— only twelve acres — and made it bring
forth enough for family use, and a surplus
for the market. He was such a good stew-
ard that he took the same interest in the
place as if it were his own ; and he would
have cut off his right hand rather than
have proved unworthy of the trust reposed
in him.

Gill was in the field hoeing, while Sally
occupied the cart ; and Ben sat upon a
large rock that was in a corner of the
barn-yard and served as a salt-lick for the
cattle, — a lump of the white substance
being kept there for the animals to go to

8 THE OLD MARKET-CART.

at pleasure. The boy was shaping a
handle for his hammer, and was talking
with Sally about the virtues of his two-
bladed jack-knife, which he was trying for
the first time. The barn-door was open,
and they could see Dobbin standing in
his stall eating, preparatory to a trot to
town. Dobbin was a plump creature, with
a shaggy mane* and tail, and long ears that
made people say, " He is the son of a
jack-ass ; " but that is no disgrace to a
horse. When it is said of a lad who is vi-
cious and stubborn, and does not try to
overcome an obstinate temper, which is
partly inherited from a wicked father, it is
a term of reproach or contempt. Dobbin
deserved only praise. , Good, patient, hard-
working Dobbin ! Always ready to come
and go at Gill's call, — to take a brisk pace
toward the market-place with the heaped-
up vegetables behind him ; or to carry the
bags of grain to the mill ; or to hold Ben

GILL.

and Sally on his back, and give them a
jaunt up and down the road while the
Scotchman was getting the evening mash
ready for the animal's supper. Dobbin
also earned his rest, as well as the- old cart.

Little Sally hushed her baby to sleep,
and laid it down upon the sweet hay. I can
not say that dolly had done any work that
would merit her repose ; but then little
babies are only meant to eat and sleep, and
gather strength for labor by and by. The
toil comes surely enough to most of them
in after life. I'm not saying this with any
feeling of regret. Oh, no ; for " Work is
worship," if it is the work that God de-
signs for us to do, and there is the sweet-
est pleasure in such worship. The most
miserable people I have ever known are
those who have nothing to do.

Sally felt that she must find something
to occupy her, the moment she had fin-
ished her task of hushing the baby. So,

10 THE OLD MARKET-CART.

while it lay sleeping, she clambered over
the edge of the cart, and ran to the
kitchen door. A chair was turned down
across the sill, and Gill's little child of
nine months old was sitting upon the
floor on the other side.

" Mind Jack," said Lucy, as Sally
stepped over, pretty near the little hand
that was grasping at the patch of sunlight
before him. " I put up the chair to keep
him from creeping out ; he's getting a pert
little fellow."

"Give me a doughnut, please, Lucy,"
said Sally. " I'm so hungry ! "

Lucy was Gill's wife, who did all the
house-work, and the little Jack made a for-
eign soil like home to the emigrants, who
were content to stay under the sky which
had first smiled upon their bonnie laddie.

Sally took the nice brown ball from the
good housewife, and stepped over the chair
again. She gave two or three peeps

GILL. 11

through the slats, to make Jack crow, and
then away she went to find Gill.

The baby pursed up its tiny mouth to
cry, as he lost sight of her. He loved
Sally so dearly !

" Never mind, little man," said the
mother, leaving her "biggin," as she
called the oat-meal porridge-cup which she
was washing, and lifting the child to her
shoulder, from whence he could see the
little girl's pink frock in the field, not far
away.

Gill was bending to his labor, but now
and then he stood erect and looked toward
the farm-house, to catch a glimpse of Lucy
and the " little man," to sweeten toil. It
makes work so light when one does it for
those whom he loves.

" Why do you hoe so often, Gill ? "
asked Sally. "Won't the things grow
without ? "

" Oh, yes, but other things will grow.

12 THE OLD MARKET-CART.

weeds and things that are not wanted.
You see this, don't you ? " pulling up a
dockvveed, and showing its long tap-roots.
"Well, if I didn't watch and pull, watch
and pull all the time, I should have it
thick enough pretty soon."

" Isn't it good for anything ? " asked
Sally, noticing its lance-like leaves, " I
think this is what Lucy picks sometimes
for spinach."

" Yes, some people like it," said Gill ;
" and the doctors have dockroot oint-
ment, and dockroot powder, and dock-
root liquid. They know what 'tis good for,
I suppose ; but I can't have it spreading
every where among my crops. Then
there's this ragweed ; if I let it alone, it
will choke out every thing else. To be
sure, the birds like the seed, but I have
other mouths than theirs to fill."

"And here's a mullein, Gill, shall I pull
it up ? "

GILL. 13

" I think your little hands would find it
tough work ; let me manage it."

" It seems a pity to pull it up, and
throw it away to wilt. What a long, hairy
stalk it has, and what pretty yellow flow-
ers, and how woolly the leaves feel, — • just
like flannel ! "

" You can boil them in lard and make
an ointment of them, to soften and soothe
with. And you can steep the young
leaves in water for cough mixtures."

'• You know a great deal about plants,
don't you, Gill ? "

" That's pretty much all I do know. I
live among them, and I study them in the
books, and out of the books. I like to
study them ; there's no better learning
than to look into the things that God has
made."

" What's this ? " asked Sally, pulling up
a slender green stem, with long "spider
legs " branching out from point to point of

14- THE OLD MARKET-CART.

the stalk, until it looked like a miniature
pine tree.

"That is what they call the field horse-
tail," said Gill, " but a prettier name is
low pine, or pine-weed, as some say.
There's another kind with a long stem of a
light-brown color, with a darker-colored
sheath at each joint, and, at the top of the
stem, a head shaped like a pine cone.
You find it on low, damp ground, and
among the meadow grass. People fancy
that it hurts horses, but Dobbin has eaten
quantities of it with the hay, and isn't any
the worse."

" I hope nothing will ever hurt Dobbin,"
said Sally.

" Here's my enemy, I meet it on every
hand," said Gill, twisting up a tuft of fox-
tail grass.

Sally admired the hairy brush at the top
of the stem. " It does look like a fox's
tail," she said.

CHAPTER II.

DAISIES AND THISTLES.

u T 'M going into the meadow now for
JL a while," said Gill. " Would you like
to go with me ? I have a good deal to do
there to get up the useless roots."

The little girl was ready to go wherever
Gill went. He told her so many pleasant
things about the natural objects around
them, that it was better than school, she
thought. It was playing and learning at
the same time.

The beautiful ox-eye daisies dotted the
grass. Sally was delighted ; but Gill had
no mercy on them. He grasped the tall
stems, and the large white blossoms fell
prostrate to the ground. " You see," said

16 TEE OLD MARKET-CART.

Gill, " if I don't uproot these pretty things,
they'll take all the strength out of the soil,
and choke out the good, sweet grass ; and
then what'll Brindle and. Flash do for feed,
and where will you and Ben and the rest
of us get milk and butter ? "

Ben came along with his hammer
nicely mended. He was ve'ry proud of
the new handle which he had made.

Gill said it was well done, almost as
well as if he had made it himself, and quite
wonderful for a boy nine years old.

" Nine years and six months," said Ben.
At that stage of his life he could not
bear to cut off a single day.

"And I'm eight," said Sally. I'm
nearly as old as brother, I come within
three inches of being as tall as Ben."

" I'll help you pull weeds," said the lad.
" I can cut them with my jackknife."

" It will do no good if you leave the
roots," said Gill. " These daisies are won-

DAISIES AND THISTLES. 17

derful to spread, — one root will have sixty
or seventy stalks, and the stalks branch
out on all sides, and bear any quantity of
seed."

" They're lovely," said Sally, " it seems a
pity to destroy them."

Every little child loves the fine " ox-
eye." It stands up amid the green, so
attractive and beautiful, with the pretty
yellow center, and the delicate white
petals.

The children wade in the meadow grass,
and fill their little hands with daisies, and
feel very rich as they run home with them
to mother.

"I do not see why they are called
' ox-eyes/ " said Ben.

" Nor I," said Gill. " People take strange
fancies sometimes. There's a small cloud
that is seen at the cape of Good Hope, '
once in a while before a dreadful storm.*,
They call that an ' ox-eye.' They say it

18 THE OLD MARKET-CART.

is of that form and size, when it first ap-
pears, though it soon grows and over-
spreads the whole heavens. These flow-
ers do.look something like, with the great
round pupil, come to think of it."

Ben tried in vain to get up the roots.
The stems broke off in his hands, leaving
the roots firm in the ground.

" I'll have to take them after a rain,"
said Gill. " That will loosen them a little.
Here's another tough affair, this Can-
ada thistle. I must put my leather mit-
tens on, before I touch it, or I shall get
well pricked. It carries its weapons in
its leaves."

"They're as thick around the edges as
the pins^ in my pocket cushion," said Ben,
taking out a little leaf made of pasteboard,
covered with green velvet, and stuck
'closely with pins. " See how nice I keep
^our birthday present, sister. 'Tis always
in my jacket pocket next my heart."

DAISIES AND THISTLES. 19

Sally looked pleased. " I'll make you
another when that is worn out," she said.

Gill tugged at the thistle. By and by
up it came at a lusty pull ; but the Scotch-
man landed plump upon the ground.
That made sport for the little people, and
Gill joined them in their mirth.

"You're just what you mean, * austere'
or ' harsh,' " said Gill, shaking his fist at the
plant, and making believe angry, as he
arose to his feet. " You stick your sharp
spears into me, and then throw me flat
upon my back, without reference to my
size, or my age ; but I'll get the better of
you yet. You can not stand here and
scatter your downy seeds in the air, to fall
and vegetate and spring up to make trouble
for me by and by. Wait till the autumn
comes, and I'll get my spade and take up
every mother's son of you."

"The blossom is pretty," said Sally,

20 THE OLD MARKET-CART.

touching the feathery purple with her
finger tips.

" So it is," said Gill. " What are com-
mon weeds in one country are rare, choice
plants in another. Where this does not
grow, it would be thought exquisite ; but
the Canada thistle is wide spread through-
out the world."

"'Tis enough prettier than the cactus
that mother takes such care of," said Ben.

"Oh, yes, there's nothing graceful in
that plant, with its thick, bristly body. To
be sure the blossom is very brilliant ;
but I like a flower that is set off by grace-
ful green leaves."

" Where does the cactus belong, Gill ? "

" In South America and the West
Indies. There are ever so many sorts,
but the ' melon thistles ' are the most
curious, with their deep ribs, and the spikes
set all over them, and the juicy flesh that

DAISIES AND THISTLES. 21

is pleasant and acid, and is eaten by the
natives. There's another species called
the ' grandiflorus.' It is a creeping plant,
and the flowers begin to open in the even-
ing between seven and eight o'clock, and
are in full bloom by eleven ; but they are
short-lived and fade away before the
morning. It is also called the ' night- -
blooming cereus.' The calyx or cup is
nearly a foot in diameter, yellow within
and dark-brown without, and the petals are
pure white, and the fragrance delicious."

" That must be lovely."

"Yes," said Gill, "but to my eye the
daisies and dandelions are just as pretty.
God makes every thing beautiful."

" Don't you hate to pull them up ? "
asked little Sally.

"'Tis not pleasant to see them wither-
ing upon the ground where they have
stood upright and smiling and fresh ; but
then you know I must have a clean grass

22 THE OLD MARKET-CART.

meadow, if I want the cows to thrive, and
give rich milk and good butter. Maybe
in the new earth the grass and the flowers
will grow together, and not hurt, but
rather help one another."

Sally picked a golden dandelion and
held it up to Gill. " It is like a little para-
sol," she said.

" So it is. We never get tired of this
beautiful yellow flower that dots the green.
The French call it l dent de leon' or
lion's tooth, from the resemblance in the
jagged leaves to the teeth of that animal.
From this has come our word dandelion."

" I hope I shall know as much as you
do when I grow up, Gill," said Ben.

" That would be little enough," said the
Scotchman. " I search the books when-
ever I have a minute to spare, and in that
way I gather up a good deal in the course
of the year ; but it is as a drop in the
bucket when I think how much there is

DAISIES AND THISTLES. 23

yet to be learned. It is good of God to
give us an eternity in which to study
his works, this life is such a speck of
time."

"Is that what we are to do by and by ? "
asked Ben.

" I think so," said Gill ; " part of our life
hereafter at least, to look into the wonder-
ful things of creation, the things that we
cannot see here, and that we have not lei-
sure to learn about."

Sally was running along by the fence
which separated the meadow from the
field. She espied the children's delight,
" butter-and-eggs," as little people call it.

" We say ' toad-flax,' " said Gill, exam-
ining the pale-green, narrow leaves, and
light-yellow blossoms with a touch of deep
orange. " The plant is something like the
flax plant, and they say the blossom re-
sembles a toad's mouth."

24 THE OLD MARKET-CART.

" I shall keep to butter-and-eggs," said
little Sally, " that is what all the children
call it"

" Dobbin is whinnying," said Gill.
" He has finished his hay, and I must be
off to town. I have errands enough to do
to-night, and I must be up betimes in the
morning to pick beans and peas, and get
them to market in season."

"Wake me at four o'clock, if you
please," said Ben, " and I'll help you."

" And I will get up and help you," said
the little girl. " 'Tis so lovely out here in
the morning. I'll put on my old frock
and my thick shoes, and mother will not
mind the dew. I can dress nicely before
breakfast."

Dolly was aroused from her nap, and
the hay and the milking-stool were re-
moved from the old cart, and Dobbin
stood between the thills, and Ben and

DAISIES AND THISTLES. 25

Sally watched the wheels go round and
•round, as Gill drove out of the big gate,
and away toward the city.

CHAPTER III.

THE PEASE FAMILY.

THE children had each a tin pail,
which they filled with peas, and
emptied into Gill's large basket. How
busy and happy they were in the early
morning, amid the vines ! The fresh
green pods hung thick and full, and here
and there was a delicate blossom of white,
tinged with pink and purple.

" How pretty ! " said Sally, picking a
couple of flowers, and hanging them upon
her ears, where they shone among her
light-brown curls. Then she pressed the
edge of a pod, and open sprung the doors,
and showed the "seven little sisters, all
dressed alike in pea-green," and looking as

THE PEASE FAMILY. 27

happy and contented as could be in their
narrow house. How they enjoyed their
peep at the world, and their glimpse of
little Sally Reed's pretty plump face, I
can not tell ; but I know that the child was
pleased enough, as she put her finger upon
each round head, as a sort of gentle greet-
ing to the pease children, who had never
before looked outside their mother's door.
Gill was full of life. He was glad to
have the little people with him. Beside
the help from their nimble hands, there
was something refreshing in their cheerful
prattle, and he was never weary of impart-
ing what he knew ; so that the big tongue
and the little tongues were about as busy
as the big hands and the little hands ; and
Gill and the children were all gainers, for
a grown person forgets his knowledge un-
less he has somebody now and then to tell
it to. Nothing can grow and flourish, if
you shut it up from the light and air.

28 THE OLD MARKET-CART.

Thoughts as well as plants, need space for
expansion, and should never be kept in a
cramped and dark place. Gill told the
children about the maritime pea, that
grows wild upon the sea-shore, both in
Europe and in the Northern part of the
United States.

" It is like our cultivated vine in form,"
he said, " but has large reddish or purplish
flowers, in racemes or clusters. The seeds,
as the peas are called, are bitter and disa-
greeable, but in times of scarcity have
been used for food."

" People eat almost any thing when they
are hungry, starving hungry, I mean," said
Ben. " Do they not ? "

" Yes, indeed, we don t know what it is
to lack bread. God has given us such a
plenty in our country."

" Do you like pea-soup, Gill ? " asked
Sally.

" When I can not get green peas," said

THE PEASE FAMILY. 29

the Scotchman. " They make that mostly
in winter. You know we get split dried
peas at the grocer's. You huve to soak
them over night, and boil your soup two
hours at least, to have it nice. The dried
peas are freed from the husks and split in
a mill. When they are young and green,
it takes very little time to cook them, not
more than fifteen or twenty minutes, and
you season them for the table with butter
and salt and pepper, and a pinch of white
sugar, and I don't want a better vegetable.
There is a kind which has a soft pod with-
out the leathery lining. It is boiled pod
and all, as we cook kidney beans." Gill '
opened a pod, and showed the children
why these that they were picking could
not be eaten. He was never in too great
haste to stop his work for a minute, if there
was any thing to explain. " You'll find
the other sort in the old country," he said.
" I've picked six kettles full already,"

30 THE OLD MARKET-CART.

said little Sally, as she emptied her pail
into the two-bushel basket.

" That's enough," said Gill. " It is good
heaped-up measure, you see. We must
get the beans now ; they and the peas
won't quarrel, for they belong to the same
family ; though I'm sorry to say that
brothers and sisters and members of the
same household are not always as kind
and gentle to each other, as they ought to
be."

"Gill," said Ben, "do you recollect
when I fell over the fence last summer and
bruised my upper lip, and you ran for the
'pea-vines, and bound some fresh green
leaves upon the bruise, and the swelling
all went down, so that there was no sore-
ness nor scar ? "

" Yes, pea-leaves are good for that."

Mr. and Mrs. Reed saw the children
as they looked from their chamber window.
" I like to have Ben and Sally up in the

THE PEASE FAMILY. 31

early morning," said the mother. " There's
nothing better for health than to shake
off sleep, and get out with the sun and the
birds."

" What a plight Sally's clothing will be
in, though," said the father. " The vines
are so wet with the dew."

" Never mind that," said Mrs. Reed.
" The child knows enough to dress for the
occasion ; and I'll warrant, she will be
all right, when she comes in at prayer
time, — she's such a neat little thing."

Lucy was milking Brindle and Flash.
She was the smartest creature in the
world, and always helped Gill on market-
days. She tied Jack in a little chair in
the old cart, so that he could just peep
over the edge, and see the cows. It
amused the baby to watch the white
streams and lo hear the pleasant music
as the milk flowed into the tin pail. Lucy
would have a tin pail for the milking. " 'Tis

32 THE OLD MARKET-CART.

nicer to keep clean than wood is," she
said. " I scald it, and put it out in the
sun, and it is fresh and sweet ; but wood
will soak, and get a stale odor after
a while."

Gill led the children to the poles where
the beans were climbing. The green ten-
drils crept up and clasped the firm sup-
port, and the leaves clustered thickly
around, and the white and scarlet blos-
soms, not unlike those of the pea in form,
shone prettily against the dark mass, and
the pods in various stages of growth hung
in little bunches.

"Pick only the young, tender ones,"
said Gill. "Mrs. Beth shall never say
that I take poor, tough produce to market.
The pods should be brittle, and break
clear of strings. When they are too old,
you have to cut away half to 'prepare them
for cooking, and that is a waste."

" The leaf is not as pretty as the pea-

THE PEASE FAMILY. 33

leaf," said Sally, "but it looks something
like a little heart, so I think I prefer it."

Gill smiled, — Sally had a way of talk-
ing that was very womanly for her age.
That came from being so much alone with
grown people, and no little sister to share
her play and her prattle. Ben was in her
eyes almost a man. She looked upon him
as next to her father in wisdom. Of course,
he never played with her as little girls
play together, with dolls and beads, and
patch-work ; and when Sally was in the
house, mother was her chief companion.

CHAPTER IV.

GILL'S GARDEN TALKS.

WHEN the beans were all picked,
Gill pulled some radishes and tied
them in bunches. There were the spindle-
shaped, and the turnip or top-shaped,
white, red, and violet outside ; but always
white within, and so crisp and nice to the
taste. Ben and Sally liked to eat them
with salt and bread and butter. Gill told
them that this vegetable is healthful, if one
is temperate in its use. It is a gentle
stimulant and anti-scorbutic. That is a
big word ; but you may as well learn that
it means " against scurvy," which is a skin
disease, and very troublesome to the poor
sailors when they have little to live upon

GILL'S GARDEN TALKS. 35

excepting salt meats, and are without yeg-
etabfes. Ben recollected what his mother
had read to him about the sufferings of
Dr. Kane and his men, when they went to
the Arctic regions? and he thought how
nice it would have been if they could have
had plenty of Gill's radishes. The Scotch-
man always contrived to have a succession
of these roots, by sowing monthly. He
took care that the soil should be loose, and
deep. When the heat was great, he
watered them often to keep the roots mild
and tender. Somehow every thing that
Gill planted or sowed came to perfection.
Ben and Sally looked with wonder upon
the tiny seed as it fell into the place pre-
pared for it.

" It does not seem as if it would evei
amount to any thing," said Ben.

" We shall see," said Gill ; and, sure
enough, up pierced the little, tender shoot,
and grew to a rough stem of two or three

36 THE OLD MARKET-CART.

feet high, if left to run to seed, with short
hairs upon it, and toothed leaves, and
flowers white or purplish in clusters ; and,
by and by, little pods like a cylinder in
form, with a sharp poiift, and swelling into
knots where the little round seeds lay.

The pod does not burst, as some pods do
when the seeds are ripe. In China they
extract oil from the radish seed, and use it
for cooking. Gill told the children that
the radish was brought originally from
China and Persia. There is the wild
radish, or charlock, which grows in our
grain fields, aud troubles the farmers very
much. It has yellow flowers.

"Now for the asparagus bed," said
Gill. " That is all I shall carry to town,
to-day."

" 'Tis nearly time for me to go and
change my dress," said little Sally, " but I
want to see you off with your load ; and I
want you to tell us about the asparagus,

GILL'S GARDEN TALKS. 37

as well as of the peas and beans and rad-
ishes.

'• It cuts splendidly to-day," said Gill, as
he sent the sharp knife beneath the soil,
and laid the tender shoots side by side
upon the ground.

"This grows wild upon the pebbly
beach near Weymouth, England, and in
the island of Anglesey, in the Irish Sea ;
but its stem there is no larger than a
goose-quill, and it grows only a few inches
high," said Gill. " You see what cultiva-
tion makes it. Here are these shoots, al-
most an inch thick ; and when I allow
them to run to seed, you have the beau-
tiful plant four or five feet high, with the
scarlet berries which Sally likes to string
for beads and hang around her neck."

" Yes," said Sally, " and mother has the
branches in the fireplace in summer, and
hangs them upon the wall for the flies to
alight upon."

38 THE OLD MARKET-CART.

" You put coarse salt on the asparagus-
bed, sometimes, don't you ? " asked Ben.

" Yes ; the plant likes salt, as it comes
from the sea-shore. When I make a bed
for this vegetable, I let it lie three years
before I cut any, and then it will bear for
several years ; and, in" the winter, I keep
it from frost by covering it with straw and
litter from the barn."

" Sally and I will be good farmers ; will
we not, Gill ? " said Ben.

" ' Tis a good thing to know how the
table-vegetables are raised, even if you
always buy them," returned the Scotch-
man. " 'Tis not showing a proper thank-
fulness to God to sit and eat and never
think what a world of pains he has taken to
give us such variety for the pleasure of the
palate. I never wish to put any thing into
my* mouth without thanking the Divine
hand that gave it, and I hope you chil-
dren will remember always to do the same,

GILL'S GARDEN TALKS. 39

and strive to learn all you can about every
good gift that comes from above."

"You forgot the lettuce," said Sally.
" You carry some of that, do you not ? "

"Yes," said Gill; "I'll pull it on our
way to the barn."

The leaves were fresh and crisp, and
bathed in morning dew. Gill selected the
young plants, and left those that were in
flower to sport their small, pale-yellow
blossoms.

*' It is narcotic and poisonous when in
flower," he said.

Little Sally asked, " What is narcotic ? "
and Gill told her, "Producing sleep or
torpor. If one ate too much, it would
benumb the brain, and, maybe, we could
not rouse it again. All the senses would
be stupified, as when one takes an over-
dose of laudanum or of opium, and the
person might die."

" I'm always sleepy when I eat lettuce,"

40 THE OLD MARKET-CART.

said Ben ; "and I've often wondered at
that."

"The doctors get a soothing medicine
from this plant," said Gill. " The stem is
cut, and the milky juice is obtained, and it
hardens into little reddish-brown lumps
which are sold at the drug-stores. They
call it "lettuce opium" sometimes, but
they say it is not so harmful as the real
opium."

" Where does that come from ? " asked
Ben.

" From the poppy," said Gill. " There
is a species of poppy which yields it in
large quantities. It grows wild in the
south of Europe, and in parts of England ;
and it is cultivated in India and Persia, and
Asiatic Turkey. The people make a good
deal of money out of it. When the plant is
young, it is as harmless as the young let-
luce, and is eaten as a pot herb. The
opium is chiefly extracted from the seed-

GILL'S GARDEN TALKS. 41

vessel after the flower has fallen. There
are large fields of this poppy, in the coun-
tries I spoke of, and men and women go
out and make little incisions, or cuts,
in the capsule or seed-vessel. Then they
leave it for twenty-four hours, and when
they come again the juice stands in tears,
and they scrape it off with blunt knives.
You have heard of opium-eaters ? " said
Gill-

" Yes," returned the children ; " they
are like drunkards, are they not ? "

"Just as bad," said the Scotchman.
" When people get this habit, it makes
such slaves of them that they seldom
shake it off ; but if they could know the
process of opium-making, I think it might
possibly prevent their eating the dirty
stuff."

" Tell us," said Ben.

" The juice hardens like jelly," said Gill,
" and it is put into small earthen vessels

42 THE OLD MARKET-CART.

and beaten with a pestle, and moistened
now and then with saliva."

" You don't mean spittle ! " said Ben,
who had not forgotten the meaning of the
word.

" Precisely so," said Gill, delighted at
the lad's expression of disgust. " I see
you will never care to eat the filthy drug.
When it is of the proper consistency, it is
wrapped in leaves and sent to market."

"Ugh!" said little Sally, "don't say
any more about it."

"We must remember that, under the
advice and direction of a physician, it is of
great benefit to mankind," said Gill. " It
is used in cases of severe pain, and of
continued sleeplessness ; but one should
never tamper with any such poisons
The doctor is the only fit person to ad-
minister it."

Gill was half way to market when
Lucy rang the " early bell." You would

GILL'S GARDEN TALKS. 43

not have known the neat little girl and
boy who entered the breakfast-room, and
gave papa and mamma the morning kiss.
Sally had left her garden-shoes in the
back entry-way, in a small closet, and had
hung her wet frock in the sun to dry ;
and she had come fresh from the bath,
with her cheeks as rosy as could be, and
the damp curls brushed smoothly over her
forehead, and clustering about her face.
Her black, shining boots were laced over
white stockings, and she wore a pure
white dress and apron. It was a refresh-
ing sight, and her father and mother com-
mended her by saying, " How nice you
are, little daughter ! "

Ben also had his share of praise, and
deserved it ; for he had put away his
soiled clothing, and appeared in a fresh
brown linen suit, and his hands and fin-
ger-nails were as nice as if he had net
been helping Gill all the morning.

44 THE OLD MARKET-CART.

Lucy brought Jack in to prayers. She
seated the little fellow upon the carpet,
and gave him a string of buttons to play
* with, and he had already learned that the
buttons meant, " Now, my little man, you
must be very quiet, and not disturb moth-
er" before she has had her lesson from the
Holy Book, and her time of communion
with God." The baby understood what
was expected of him, and he behaved
much better than some people that I have
seen in the church, which is the house of
prayer.

Only the other Sunday I was almost
afraid, there were so many thoughtless
young people around me in the sacred
place. They did not seem to listen at all
when the Bible was being read ; but they
whispered and laughed together, as if they
had come for a frolic ; and, even when the
people who wanted to be good were upon
their knees before God, these wicked boys

GILL'S GARDEN TALKS. 45

and girls sat with their faces close together,
and their tongues busy with idle words,
for which they must give account at last.
I was so sorry ! so sorry ! I hope God will
grant what I asked for them, — that they
may repent of their sin, so that it may
not be laid to their charge.

Ben and Sally were very attentive to the
.word of life, and their hearts and voices
went up to their heavenly Father in
earnest prayer for help and guidance
through life.

The breakfast never tasted so delicious.
They had worked hard enough to give
them a good relish for Lucy's brown
bread and fish-balls, and toast and

CHAPTER V.

MRS. BETH AND HER CAT.

MRS. BETH was drinking coffee
from a tin kettle, as Gill drove up
to a side door in the market. She sat in
her stall with her bonnet on her head, and
her spectacles upon her nose, and her fat
face as gleeful and jolly as one need wish
to see. It was a pleasure to look at the
woman ; she put every body in a good
humof'by her own cheerfulness.

The stall was in the middle of the mar-
ket-place, and was about twelve feet
square, — perhaps not quite so large.
There was a sort <Jf table or platform, cov-
ered with crisp, yellow-green lettuce, and
cresses, and spinach, and young beets with

MRS. BETH AN1> T

MRS. BETH AND HER CAT. 47

the tops for greens ; and below this plat-
form, running around on the outside of
the stall excepting at the entrance or
gateway, was a bench with baskets of veg-
etables ; beans, peas, summer squashes,
etc., etc. Up above were bars with hooks,
and suspended from the hooks were red
peppers, and garlic, and herbs, (or " medi-
cine" as Mrs. Beth called it). At the
gateway was a post with a broken lantern
on the top. All around were other stalls
with produce, and their salesmen or sales-
women, but nowhere was there a neater
place, or a more attractive face, than by
the old broken lamp that served as a
beacon. Many a time it had lured Gill in
the dimness of some cloudy morning ; and
yet he thought there was little need to
light the lantern, so long as the beaming
face of the woman was there.* He won-
dered how it was that such multitudes of
people hide their sunlight^ which is radi-

48 THE OLD MARKET-CART.

antly beautiful when it shines clearly
through honest and earnest eyes.

He and Mrs. Beth were such fast
friends ! She watched for the head with
the yellow hair, which the Reed children
thought a halo ; and she felt better all day
after it had appeared to her ; for Gill al-
ways left some Xvord of blessing that she
could think of, and so break the weariness
of sitting there hour after hour. She
scarcely waited for him to jump from his
cart, before she was at the door to lend a
hand to. the baskets.

" It is all bespoken, every thing that you
bring," she said to the Scotchman. " I
could sell bushels on bushels more, if you
had the produce. You see it makes all
the difference in the world when the vege-
tables are picked fresh in the morning.
They're worth almost double then."

" And I'm worth almost double for get-
ting up to pick them," said Gill. " When

MRS BETH AND HER CAT. 49

I lie in bed longer than I ought, I feel
wilted, as the vegetables look when they've
been long pulled. I remember when I
was a little fellow, and my father used to
take me out of bed, and set me upon my
feet by the window, to hear the June birds
sing ; and, pretty soon, my eyes would fly
open of themselves before sunrise, and I
would tumble out of my nest, and run to
listen to the early concert. It all comes
back to me now, as I stand among the
vines — the old home by the river, and
the woodbine climbing up to my chamber,
and the sweet sounds coming in, and my
father and my mother talking to each
other as they were dressing. I wouldn't
lose my morning hour for any thing."

" Isn't it queer to think of ourselves as
little children ? " said the old woman. " I
often see a little girl, with a yellow frock
and a blue apron on, and a great black cat
in her arms, as she plays among the hay

4

50 THE OLD MARKET-CART.

in the barn. You wouldn't believe that
this old gray Eliza Beth is she ; but so it
is, and there's the black cat's grand-
daughter at your feet."

Mrs. Beth had spread a piece of carpet
for her pet to lie upon. " I feel a great
tenderness for that creature," she said.
" My old Black was such a playmate ! she
used to let me dress her up in my little
baby sister's clothes, and rock her to sleep
in the cradle ;. and she would walk upon
her hind legs, as I held her fore paw, and
played go to school. There's something
of the same spirit in this grandkitten.
She lets me do whatever I please with
her."

" Well, 'tis good to be young, and 'tis
good to be old," said Gill. " I don't care to
go back to the early days, except in
thought and memory. If we are doing
our duty, we are every day nearing the
better life ; and if we reach that, we

MS8. BETH AND HER CAT. 51

shall not look behind us very often, I
think."

There was not much time to talk, for
the market was getting full of people, and
Mrs. Beth had all that she could do to
supply the demands of her customers.
She sold every thing at a fair price.
There was no higgling to get more than
the produce was worth. " An honest
profit is what will bring peace," said she,
"'the peace that passeth all understand-
ing.' I'd rather have less money, and
more of that quietness of conscience,
which is a blessing greater than gold."

The old market woman had the true
philosophy ; or, rather, the precious gos-
pel principle that keeps this world from
being a vale of misery. Her honest, up-
right soul dwelt amid beauty. Even there
in the busy market-place, where most peo-
ple could see only the perishable things of
earth, this woman's spirit beheld the light

52 THE OLD MARKET-CART.

that comes down from above, and visions
of good angels who love to minister to us
here below, and, though dimly, the Face
that shall be revealed to us by and by in
all its wondrous majesty and brightness.
Whatever Mrs. Beth did was done in view
of this glory that was invisible to others ;
this cloud of witnesses who note the ac-
tions of men, and carry the record of a good
deed up to the angels in heaven, where
there is great joy over it. I wish we
could all be ever conscious of these spec-
tators, and of the interest that they feel in
our progress toward God. I am sure it
would do much to encourage and help us,
when we have not such sympathy as we
desire among our fellows, and when we
stretch out heart and hand for some an-
swering love and aid. And, more es-
pecially, if we see the Divine Face bending
down toward us, there will be little need
of earthly glory, or of earthly help. In the

MRS. BETH AND HER CAT. 53

light of God's countenance we must be
strong, and happy, and satisfied.

However closely Mrs. Beth kept to her
stall, Tib felt at liberty to take a wide
range. When her nap was over, she
shook her glossy black dress, and went
lightly about the market in her white satin
slippers. It was a marvel to her mistress
how she could keep her dainty shoes so
pure from soil ; but there are those who
walk amid the city's mire and dirt, and yet
are free from spot or stain. They need
only to wash their feet, and are clean
every whit. It is blessed to be of that
number ; to go with white garments down
into the very pollution, and to come out of
it undefiled, and to feel that it was be-
cause of the robe of Christ's righteousness
upon us, that gives virtue by its contact
with the sinner, and never takes soil.

" You're a beautiful creature, Tib," said
Eliza Beth. " You hunt out and pursue

54 THE OLD MARKET-CART.

mischief, and put an end to it. I can tell
by your contented purr that there is one
thief less in the market since you have
been away from me. Only keep on ferret-
ing out evil, and destroying it, and you'll
be a blessing to your day and generation."

Tib stretched her delicate limbs and
sprang up into her mistress' lap, and com-
posed herself for the rest that was well
earned. Now and then she licked the
hand that lay near her, and it was a pleas-
ant caress to the widowed and childless
woman.

" I have but you in the world, Tib," said
Mrs. Beth. " We'll stand by each other to
the end, will we not ? "

The cat blinked at her with its yellow
eyes, as if to say, " There's never a doubt
of that," and then fell asleep to dream of
the two little mice over in Susan Mack's
stall ; the two little mice that escaped an
hour ago through a hole in the floor, and

MRS. BETH AND HER CAT. 55

would come out at night to nibble at the
crumbs of cheese that were scattered here
and there.

People smiled to see the good-natured
market-woman, with the sleeping cat upon
her lap.

"That's a soul to be trusted," said a
gentleman, as he passed the stall. "Any
body Who is tender to an animal, must
have a good heart toward all mankind, it ,
seems to me."

CHAPTER VI.

BABY JACK.

THE bummer advanced, the weeks
came and went, came and went so
' swiftly. Ben and Sally and Gill had a
constant succession of business, for Mrs.
Beth plied them diligently. She must have
green gooseberries and currants for tarts,
and the little fingers were often among the
shining round balls, and the long links
with the beads upon them. And she
wanted strawberries, and early -pears, and
summer sweetings, and all sorts of melons.
Whatever Gill could gather from orchard
or garden, Mrs. Beth would find a market
for.

The children called Gill's lessons to

BABY JACK. 57

them part of their regular school instruc-
tion, and Mr. and Mrs. Reed said, " It was
worth more than the general school teach-
ing, because it was so freely given, for the
mere love of imparting."

Ben wished to know where the currant-
bushes came from, and Gill said, " They
grow wild in woods or thickets, in various
parts of Europe and America ; and we cul-
tivate them in our gardens because the.
fruit is so agreeable and healthful. The
juice of the ripe currant is a useful remedy
in obstructions of the bowels, and in fevers
it furnishes a grateful and cooling drink."

" I know that," said little Sally. "I re-
member how delicious it tasted last sum-
mer when I was sick. Mamma made
what she called ' currantade,' and nothing
could have been nicer."

" Then we can press out the juice, and
add an equal weight of loaf sugar, and boil
it down to a jelly and keep it for the

58 THE OLD MARKET-CART.

winter ; and it helps us when we have colds
and coughs," said Gill.

" Yes, and mother puts it between thin
loaves of cake, to make jelly-cake," said
Sally ; " and she pours boiling water on
the jelly to make a syrup for the baked
pudding, which Ben and I like so well ;
and she sends glasses of the jelly to the
sick, whenever she hears of any body who
wants it."

" And father had some currants pressed
for wine, don't you remember ? " said Ben.
" He's going to keep it as long as he can.
He says it will be far better twenty years
from this time, and it is not like the
poisonous stuff which the distillers make,
and which brings such sorrow and dis-
grace upon the people who drink it ;
though father says it is wiser and better
to take no wine at all, except in sickness,
and when the doctor orders it for old or
feeble persons."

BAB Y JACK 59

"Even the currant-fo/^ is good for
something," said Gill. " The inner bark
is boiled in water, as a remedy for jaun-
dice, and other diseases."

Ben did not like the taste of the black
currant. It is disagreeable to some peo-
ple, but it is said to be useful in cases of
sore throat. Indeed it has been called the
" quinsy berry." It grows to the size of
a hazel-nut, in Siberia, and is made into
wine and jelly, and " rob," or syrup. The
leaves are fragrant, and make a pleasant
beverage, and the young roots furnish a
medicine for eruptive fevers. Ben asked
Gill about the dried currants that are sold
at the grocer's.

"These are small grapes," said Gill.
" They are imported from the old country,
and are known there as " Corinth raisins."
"Gooseberries are harder to pick than
currants," said Sally ; " the bushes have
so many thorns, they tear my hands."

60 THE OLD MARKET-CART.

" Put your gloves on," said Gill, " or be
careful how you take hold. You can draw
a branch away with one hand, and pick
with the other."

" I think people are very foolish to eat
green gooseberry tarts," said Ben. "The
berries are so much nicer when they are
fully ripe."

Gill thought so to ; but he said there
was no accounting for tastes. For his own
part, he would never eat snakes ; but the
savage Africans would devour them with a
hearty relish. The children made a little
expression of disgust ; and, having finished
their task, Gill put the berries in a cool
place until the morning ; and Ben and
Sally went to give Jack a ride in the old
cart. It was a great help to Lucy to have
them look after and amuse the baby for an
hour or two ; and the little fellow was
perfectly delighted when Sally appeared
at the kitchen-door.

BABY JACK. 61

Children like the companionship of
their kind. That is the reason why the
mother of a large family finds her task
easier than when there is but one ; for the
little creatures depend upon each other,
and are always diverted and contented.

Sally was like an old woman in her
nursing, — she was so tender and thought-
ful of Jack. She spread a worn shawl over
the hay in the cart lest the child should
get it in his eyes by the jolting, and she
put cushions round him to prevent his
being hurt by a sudden bump ; for the
little dumpling would roll and tumble
about with every motion.

What a merry time they had in the
lane that led from the barn to the field !
Ben drew the vehicle, and Sally pushed,
chirruping all the way that Jack might
know how near she was ; for the baby was
quite shut off from a view of her and Ben
by the deep sides of the cart.

62 THE OLD MARKET-CART.

That is often the way with us, some one
drawing us, and some one pushing us, —
invisible loved ones. If we can not see
them, we seem to hear the voices, and we
are passive in their hands, and glad to be
as a little child, without care, or without
responsibility.

Baby Jack liked best, however, to see
Sally's curly head, as she peeped over
the back of the cart ; and when she and
Ben clambered up and got in to sit beside
him on the cushions, and show him pic-
tures from Mother Goose, or sing pretty
songs, or bring their play down to his
tiny capacity, he was forgetful even of
mother, who came often to the kitchen
door to listen and know whether he was
crying for her.

Crying, indeed? Not he. In his fat
fist he held a cracker to try his two pearly
teeth upon, and Sally had a cup of milk in
the " corner cupboard," as she called one

BABY JACK. 63

part of the cart, so the baby could not be
hungry.

It was pretty to see how generous
he was with his morsel, holding it up
to Sally and to Ben, after every nibble
of his own little mouth. There was no
satisfying him unless they would put their
lips down to make believe, and would
say " good, good,"

Ah me! if only this free spirit would
cling to us through life ! Pleasures are
always sweeter when we share them with
others. Baby Jack made the right begin-
ning when he pressed part of his cracker
upon his young playmates.

When the evening drew nigh, and the
old cart stood in its place with the thills
upon the stone wall, the young turkeys
made it their roost. It was in vain for
them to try to fly to the high branches of
the butternut tree, where their ancestors
perched.

64 THE OLD MARKET-CART.

"I am glad to see that you aspire to
the very topmost bough," said their moth-
er. " There's nothing wrong in that, if you
are willing to rest patiently in a more
lowly place until you are fitted for this
dignity. Many a one has broken his
neck, by trying too lofty a flight before his
wings were in a condition to sustain him.
Be humble, my dear children, and you
will be pretty sure to attain your proper
station."

The little things listened attentively,
and watched to see what their parents
would do ; and, to set them an example,
the old turkeys, both father and mother,
hopped upon the cart, and composed
themselves to sleep as contentedly as if
they were at the very summit of the tree.
Then there was such a fluttering and
chirping among the young brood, and
such emulation as to who should be the
first to imitate the parents. Pretty soon,

BABY JACK. 65

by dint of great perseverance on the part
of the little turkeys, and encouragement
on the part of the old, all were settled for
the night, some on the thills, and some on
the edge of the boards that formed the
body of the cart, and the stars looked
down upon a very happy and contented
family.

CHAPTER VII.

STRAWBERRIES.

WHILE the turkeys were having
their night's rest outside the farm-
house, and big people and little dreamed
sweetly within, the strawberries lay in
their broad bed, with their rosy faces
upturned to the brilliant heavens. They
were awaiting the coming of the dawn,
and were whispering to each other, as
they snuggled closely together, cheek to
cheek, about the great event that was to
happen in the morning.

" We are going to the city," said the
elder sisters, to the little ones that were
half-hidden under the coverlet.

" W«J have to do our part in the world

STRA WBERRIES. 67

now that we are ready. Our kind Creator
has given us wondrous opportunities for
improvement, and we have made the most
of his sunshine, and his showers. How we
have drank in all his benefits ! And now
we, in our turn, are to bless others. We
are to refresh the sick and fevered, and to
make eye and heart brighten at our pres-
ence. You, dear little sisters, will stay at
home for a while longer until you are per-
fected in the virtues that are needful to
your success in an outside ministry. Think
pleasantly and lovingly of us when we are
gone, and try so to grow in goodness, that
you may soon follow us on .the mission
that is appointed to all the worthy mem-
bers of our family."

The little ones were tearful in the dark-
ness, but they did not break out into sob-
bing, for they knew that what God ordains
is all right, and they were very glad that
their sisters and themselves were to be

68 THE OLD MARKET-CART.

sent on errands of cheer to mankind.
Still it was natural enough, and by no
means wrong to weep at the separation
that must occur ; so they clung to each
other all the night, and the elders bent
down and kissed them over and over
again, and were so gentle and loving, and
said such words of hope and cheer, that,
when Gill and Ben and Sally came to the
bed before the sun-rising, they said, " How
bright and beautiful the strawberries look
this morning ! It makes one laugh to look
at their glad faces."

And, sure enough ! the big ones were
all ready for their journey, and the little
ones seemed contented as they bade their
sisters good-by, and crept under the cover-
let to take one more nap before the sun
should be up ; for the very young need
more sleep than the vigorous youth or
maiden needs, we know.

" Aunt Maud can have nothing to do

STRA WBERRIES. 69

with strawberries; is it not a pity? "said
Ben. " She says they make her skin
prickle, and irritate her tongue and throat
so that they itch dreadfully, and they give
her a sort of fever, as the roses do, — that
is very queer."

" Not so very," said Gill, when one un-
derstands that the strawberry belongs to
the rose family.

" Does it ? " said the children, in sur-
prise, " we did not know that, — the leaves
do look something like a rose-leaf."

" Yes," said the Scotchman. " Both the
strawberry and the raspberry belong to
the rose family, and people who are
affected with the ' rose cold ' are seldom
able to eat these fruits. It must be a sad
deprivation."

" I should hate to be obliged to go with-
out strawberries," said Sally. " I think
there is nothing so nice in all the world."

" ' Doubtless God could have made a

70 THE OLD MARKET-CART.

better berry, but doubtless God never
did/ ", said Gill, who was fond of quoting
whatever he had read, if it happened to
please him.

" I know from whom you got that," said
Ben. "I heard mamma read it. from Isaac
Walton the other day."

" He did not say it, though," said Gill.
" He took it from Doctor Boteler, but it is
true enough whoever said it ; for never
was there a better fruit than the straw-
berry."

Gill held up a stem with a cluster of
the scarlet berries, and looked at them
with admiration.

" How luscious they are ! " he said, " and
how beautiful, too, in form and color !
See how the little yellow seeds contrast
with the red pulp, and what a pretty green
cup holds the fruit, and how gracefully
the berry hangs from the stem."

Gill was always eloquent over the pro-

STRA WBEREIES. 7 1

ductions of the earth. "They are oui
heavenly Father's handiwork," he said.
" No wonder there is so much glory and
perfection ! "

The Scotchman took great pains with
the strawberry-bed. He planted the roots
in rows and hills, and when the creeping
shoots made new stocks, he transplanted
these to another place, never letting them
run thickly together and form a tangled
mass. His strawberry-vines were large
and fine, and the triple leaves were broad
and green, upon their long foot-stalk ; and
in the midst of them shot up silky stems,
with pure white blossoms, like snowflakes,
at the top, and, by and by, the snowflakes
vanished, and the little pale-green berries
appeared, and grew, and grew, and changed
into the perfect scarlet fruit which is so
delicious of itself, and yet is varied by
being eaten with cream and sugar, and by

72 THE OLD MARKET-CART.

being made into jam and short-cakes and
other dishes. It seems almost an insult
to this lovely berry to add any thing to it,
as if we thought it capable of improve-
ment. For my part, I think it never so
delicious as when it is eaten off the vines
while the dew is upon it. Only it makes
one feel a trifle sorrowful, if one sees in the
dew the tears of the little sisters and the
big, as if they wept at the thought of the
separation that was to come. But, then,
we must not expect all joy and sweetness
in the things of this world. We ought to
be willing to take the evil with the good.
I mean what we call evil ; for there is no
evil for any of us in what comes from
God's hand. It must be all good to us,
whatever it may seem to our poor, half-
blind hearts and eyes.

Gill and the children had so many little
wooden baskets filled with the rich, ripe

STR A WBERR1ES. 73

fruit ! It shone through the side-slits right
temptingly, and was covered at the top
with fresh, green leaves. The gooseberries
and currants were none the worse for
being picked over night. It would be dif-
ferent, by and by, when they should be
softened and made ruddy by the ripening
sun.

The turkeys knew enough to vacate the
old market-cart before Gill came along
with Dobbin, though one had the impu-
dence to hop up, when the Scotchman's
back was turned, and stick his bill under
a green leaf, and get one of the very
nicest of the scarlet berries. Gill drove
him away, and there was a great scamper-
ing, for the berry shone red in his mouth,
and all the brothers and sisters wanted it,
— ill-gotten gains, though it was, — and,
after all, he had to keep such watch, and
was so worried before he could get away
by himself into a sly corner, that he had

74 TEE OLD MAEEET-CART. •

poor enjoyment of it, I am sure. But then
we must not forget that he was only a
turkey, and, of course, knew nothing of
the wrong of picking and stealing.

CHAPTER VIII.

HOME LOVE.

YOU need not suppose that Mr. and
Mrs. Reed lost sight of their chil-
dren altogether, because I am telling you
so much about their hours with Gill.
Oh, no ! It would be a singular father and
mother that could trust such precious
plants as a little son and daughter, to any
other culture and training than their own.
" It is good for the children to be out a
great deal with nature," said these wise
parents. " Their bodies need the sun
and air to make them thrifty and vigorous,
and their minds and souls will be alt the
more healthy for this vigor of body."

But then, at a certain call* from the

76 THE OLD MARKET-CART.

tongue of the bell, the little people left
verdure and flowers and birds, and ran to
the study where mamma sat with books
and work around her. They made them-
selves very nice before they came into her
gentle presence, and, as they entered the
room, there was such a sweet recognition
as all well-bred children must show, when-
ever they come before father or mother.

There is nothing so beautiful to see in
all the world, as this loving respect and
reverence to parents. I know a little boy
and three little girls, close at hand, who
always show it, and I am so well pleased
with them that I wish to put them here
in this book, that is to go out among
other little people.

" Only four children that pay a proper
respect and deference to their parents !
Are these all that you know?" I seem
to hear you ask.

Oh, no ,' not all, thank God ! There

HOME LOVE. 77

are others in my mind, but very few so
pretty and gentle in their manners as
these to whom I desire to do honor, and
whom I wish you to imitate. Ben and
Sally Reed were like them.

Mamma was carefully and well dressed,
and was polite to the little son and
daughter too. That need not surprise
you. Mothers are sent to be an example
to their children ; and Mrs. Reed felt
this responsibility.

Parents should be like brother and
sister to their young brood, when they are
mingling familiarly and playfully with
them, and like the divine Friend* and
Teacher, (I speak this very reverently),
when they have to govern and guide ;
and children should look up to father
and mother, as they would look up to
their heavenly parent and never dare to
say a rebellious or disrespectful word. It
must be so verv sweet for son or daughter,

78 THE OLD MARKET-CART.

when it can be said of them, " They have
never given me a pang." I have known
a mother to say this of a grown-up son,
and I looked upon the man with a sort
of envy ; for I am sorry to remember that
I was not so gentle a little girl as I might
have been, and I am afraid I shall have
to stand beside the many thoughtless
children, instead of with Ben and Sally
Reed, and with the pleasant four, and the
few other dear ones whom I have in my
mind. However that may be, we that
have not done quite as well as we ought
heretofore can only be very sorry for
the past, and begin at once to amend
our ways. This is all that a gracious
God requires for any fault, — that we re-
pent sincerely for it, and do as well as
we possibly can for the future.

Ben and Sally were deeply interested
in their studies, and in the course of read-
ing which their mother had marked out

HOME LOVE. 79

for them ; for young as they were, there
were juvenile histories, and books upon
the natural sciences that were adapted to
their tender minds ; and Mrs. Reed chose
these rather than the simple stories which
. had in them no useful facts. She said,
" It is just as easy to give the children
a taste for the right sort of knowledge,
as to cultivate in them a desire for a light
and trashy literature. So she taught
them about real characters who have
lived in the world, and talked to them of
the riches that are upon the earth, and
in the seas, and they were as happy as
could be during school hours, and were
almost always sorry when the time was
over.

Mr. Reed had his opportunity with
them in the evening. That was a very
joyous time. There was so much of the
day's events, to be gone over on both
sides ! Papa made the most of every inci-

80 THE OLD MARKET-CART.

dent from which he could draw a moral ;
and the little children had more than
they could possibly tell, and generally
left a good deal for the next day. Often,
after they were in bed, Ben would call
quietly from across the dim hall, —

" Are you awake, sister ? "

" Yes, Ben."

"Well, we forgot to tell father some-
thing."

Then he would say what it was, and
Sally would call back again, " We must be
sure to think of it in the morning."

Mamma did not object to their speak-
ing softly to each other in the dimness.
It was pleasant to her to hear the little
loving voices up above, as she sat below
engaged in some household work of mend-
ing or sewing. She said to papa one
evening, as the music of her children's
prattle came floating down to her, " I
wonder if mothers, who have put their

HOME LOVE. 81

little children in bed, and themselves are
left up and doing here below, ever listen
for the pleasant voices from above ?
There can be no doubt that the precious
ones are talking happily together, and
it seems to me that if all others are deaf
to the sound, it must reach a mother's
ears, and make her heart very contented
and blessed."

Mr. Reed looked at his wife with some
surprise. "What made you think of that
just now ? " asked he.

" I can not tell, except that whenever
Ben and Sally are speaking together in
the dark, it gives me a pleasant feeling
about the night that must come to all,
both little and big ; and I think, perhaps,
if my children should be called to their
last sleep before us, we might be com-
forted by the conviction that they have
sweet companionship and communion."

" I hope God will spare our darlings to

82 THE OLD MARKET-CART.

be the joy of our old age," said Mr.
Reed. "We will try to train them in
his holy ways, however, and then, whether
they stay here or are called up to him, we
shall be blest and satisfied."

Ben had a little room that looked out
upon the orchard, and he could hear the
twitter of the birds as they awoke from
time to time, and asked their mothers to
tuck the feathers closer around them, — for,
summer though it was, the tender young
creatures wanted a warm shelter from the
rfight dews. Then, in the very early dawn,
the flutter of their wings as they made
their morning toilet sounded through the
open casement, and when they were quite
dressed, there was such a burst of song
as started the lad to his feet, and made
him hasten out where every thing that had
breath seemed to be praising the Lord.

Sally's bed was a cot beside father and
mother. She was the baby still, and it

HOME LOVE. 83

was sweet to them to keep her under their
wing as long as possible. But, like the lit-
tle birds, she was awake at the peep of
day, and poured forth thanksgiving to
him who had watched over her through
the darkness. Then she and Ben went
out to help Gill, or to speak to Dobbin,
or to play amid the green until Lucy's
bell called to them to make ready for
breakfast.

Dobbin always expected a visit before
sunrise. Animals and children are very
happy companions, and seem to under-
stand each other well. This " son of a jack-
ass " was a noble fellow, and stood upon
his own merits, whatever his father was
before him. He had such a genial nature,
that his eyes would brighten, and his ears
prick up for joy, when the little people
stepped over the threshold of the barn,
and he would give a pleasant whinny
that meant to them, " Good morning, I am

84 THE OLD MARKET-CART.

very happy to see you. I hope you have
passed a refreshing night, and that the
day will be one of great blessedness and
peace to you."

And the children would say : "How
d'ye do, Dobbin ? What an early break-
fast you are having all alone here ! If we
could only eat hay, we would share it with
you. I suppose you have to go to town
as usual, and carry something to Mrs.
Beth. No doubt she sits by this time in
her stall, waiting for you and Gill to bring
the fresh fruit and vegetables."

Then Ben would take the curry-comb,
and smooth the shaggy coat, and Dobbin
would seem as pleased as a little child at
being made so nice and respectable for the
jaunt to the city.

" You must hold up your head," Sally
would say, "and let the city horses see
that you are well-bred, and have nothing
to be ashamed of ; and, whatever you do,

HOME LOVE. ' 85

Dobbin, try and keep a sure footing in the
slimy streets. 'Tis dreadful to fall down
in such mud and mire ! I should be sorry
if you came home with your nice coat
soiled, and maybe an inward hurt that
would be harder to get over."

Sally did not know what a fine moral
there was to her little speech, for every
body that goes from the freshness and
purity of a country home to the slippery
places of the great and wicked city.

CHAPTER IX.

GARDEN RICHES.

IITTLE Sally stood in the midst of
_/ the tomato-vines, eating a great
scarlet "love-apple," as she would insist
upon calling it.

"That is what it used to be called,"
said Gill. " You can just as well say it, if
you like."

The child smacked her lips over the
delicious fruit. " 'Tis better than an apple
when one is thirsty," she said. " The leaf
looks like the potato-leaf, does it not,
Gill?"

" And well it may," the Scotchman an-
swered ; " it belongs to the same genus.

GARDEN RICHES. 87

The potato and the tomato and the egg-
plant, are near relations."

Ben laughed. " How funny you are,
Gill," said he. " You speak of these things
just as if they were people."

"Well, God has set them in families,
and they are kind and agree together, and
seem almost like people to me," returned
Gill. " You know I live among them, and
talk to them and they to me. They speak
marvelous things to me sometimes."

The children looked amused. "What
does the tomato say to you ? " asked Sally.

" It says — ' I have come from South
America, in my beautiful scarlet and or-
ange dress. I love my own country with
its snow-capped mountains, and its great
rivers, and its fertile lands ; but I thought
I might as well travel to other parts of the
earth, and let other people know my
worth. One has not always the most honor
in one's own land. I lose a little of my

88 THE OLD MARKET-CART.

acid and brisk flavor by coming away from
home ; but I gain in size and beauty by
the care that is taken of me.' "

Ben made a face as he touched the
leaves. " They have a vile odor," he said.

" Let the leaves go," said Gill, and
think of the good fruit. Never speak of
faults, if you can help it ; but rather find
out every good quality. I think the to-
mato-vine very beautiful, as I train it
against the trellises, and watch the green
leaves spreading broader and broader, and
the yellow blossoms in thick bunches, and
then the fruit with its bright, shining skin.
In Italy, England, and America, and in
many other parts of the world, it is now
considered a great luxury. We ean eat it
as Sally does, as if it were an apple ; or,
we can slice it, and have only salt upon it,
or vinegar, or sugar, just as people fancy ;
and we can stew it, or bake it, or use it as
a sauce for fish and meats. There never

GARDEN RICHES. 89

was a vegetable that we can employ in so
many ways."

Gill picked the ripe fruit very carefully
and put it into baskets. " Mrs. Beth's
mouth will water when she sees these," he
said. "They are nicer than ever, it seems
to me."

Then he picked some of the egg-plant.
He had famous skill with this. The vines
had come to great perfection. The chil-
dren had watched them from the begin-
ning, and had noticed their oval cottony
leaves, and the large white and purple
flowers, and the violet and yellow and
white fruit, for Gill had every variety. He
told the children that in India it is served
up with sugar and wine, or simply sugared
water, and in the south of France with
olive oil.

Sally liked the white fruit which looked
like a pullet's egg, but Ben preferred the

90 TEE OLD MARKET-CART.

large violet-colored, that Lucy sliced and
fried brown in butter.

Gill said, " One must be careful about
the white, for there is a species resembling
it, that is poisonous, and some people have
confounded it with the harmless thing."

The children followed the Scotchman
as he left the egg-plant, and walked amid
the rustling corn, and gathered the green
ears.

" I feel as if I were in the cool woods,
when I get here," said Sally.

The tall plants were high above her
head, and the broad leaves shaded her
delightfully, and she liked to hear the crisp
sound as Gill and Ben broke the ears from
their stalks.

" I put the little grains into the hillocks
myself, remember, Gill," said the child.

" Yes, indeed, you were a great help to
me, for I could cover it with my hoe as you

GARDEN RICHES. 91

dropped the corn, and we got on very fast
indeed."

" Don't you know how we came out here
every day, brother, to see if the grains had
sprouted ? "

" Yes."

"And how pleased we were when the
first tiny blade came through the earth ? "

"Yes," said Ben, "and we wondered
how it could have strength enough to
push off the brown coverlet and put its
head out of bed."

" After it saw the light it shot up fast
enough," said Gill, " and it put forth leaf af-
ter leaf, and now here we are in this great
forest, we Who stood upon the bare ground
dropping the tiny kernels, and shutting
them up in their prison houses, — oh, it is
wonderful ! so wonderful ! " Gill lifted his
hat reverently as he said this, and looked
up to heaven, in grateful recognition of

92 THE OLD MARKET-CART.

the Almighty Friend who maketh all
things to grow for the use of man.

It impressed the children very sweetly,
to see this devout spirit in the Scotchman.
It was better to them than any words
could have been, and they were sure not
to forget it. By and by Gill spoke, as he
stood by his full basket, and held a fine
ear of corn in his hand. He had parted
the husk, and the fresh, milky rows looked
out upon Ben and Sally, and the silk
tassel hung gracefully at the end.

" What riches in you ! " said Gill, as if
addressing the grain itself, — "johnny-cake,
and hominy, and mush or hasty pudding,
and farina, and hulled corn, and samp, and
many another nice, palatable dish for the
table."

Then he touched the stalk, and the
husks, and continued his speech, — "And
you give us sugar, and potash, and writing-

GARDEN RICHES. 93

paper, and mattresses. Well is it that you
have come from your wild home in
Paraguay, since you make us so happy and
comfortable."

" I did not know that we could get all
these things from corn," said Ben.

" And I should never have known it, if
I had been content to plant and eat, and
never ask a question, or look into a book,
as some people are satisfied to do," said
Gill.

" Thank you for telling us," said Sally.
" I must go now and look after my baby ;
she may be in all sorts of mischief,
though I left her asleep in the cart. She's
getting big enough now to stand, but the
boards are too high for her to fall over,"
— and away went the little girl to her
matronly charge. She felt as much care
for her doll, as Lucy did for Jack.

It is a beautiful virtue in these little
women, that they have the mother love

94 THE OLD MARKET-CART.

even when they are nursing their rag
babies. A child that watches and yearns
over her doll, smiling when she conceives
it to be well and happy, and crying for
its imaginary ills and sorrows, will make
the truest and most tender of mothers
when there is a living baby in her arms
to call forth her joy or her pity.

" Coming, pet," said Sally, with her
arms stretched toward the cart where
her " little Jennie lay kicking and crow-
ing," as she said to Lucy who stood at
the wood-pile as she passed.

The child made quick steps, and, climb-
ing into the old vehicle, held her baby to
her bosom with as much delight as if she
had been parted from it for an age.

" God bless her ! " said Lucy. " One
of these days I shall see her a good wife, I
am sure, with as dear a pet as my little
Jack, to care for and to lov^."

" We shall have to move," said Sally to

GARDEN RICHES. 95

her infant, as if it quite understood all.
" Gill will be here after this house in
a minute, ancl I must look up another
home. You needn't cry, dearie, I know
the prettiest little cottage by a brook, and
I think we can get it. We'll try, at any
rate. 'Tisn't pleasant to move ; I should
like one house always, but your grand-
mamma says people used to live in tents,
and wander about a good deal oftener than
you and I have had to."

Sally's cottage was the corn-crib, and
the brook was the trough outside the door,
where the cattle drank.

The water came from a spring, and was
always fresh, and bubbling over with a
sort of musical sound. The little girl
loved to hear it. She called it her piano,
and sang songs to its accompaniment
as she rocked her baby, or held her quietly
upon her lap. .

When Gill came to harness Dobbin,

96 THE OLD MARKET-CART.

she sat in the door of her cottage and
called to him.

"We're living over here now, Gill,"
said she. " We shall want that house
again, when you can spare it. This is
very well, but we like that a great deal
better. You and Ben must come and
visit us here, and tell Lucy, if you please,
to bring little Jack over. The baby and
I are lonesome in our new house."

Ben laughed. " How funny little girls
are ! " he said. " Sally acts as if her play
were real life. I do believe she would
cry her eyes out, if any thing should
happen to that doll of hers."

" I know somebody that makes as great
a fuss over a whistle, or a kite, as
any little girl over a rag-baby," said Gill.

Ben perched himself upon the great'
rock in the corner of the barn-yard, and
pulled a piece of willow from his pocket.

" I should not have thought of it, but

GARDEN RICHES. 97

for you, Gill," he said. "I can make a
very nice whistle indeed, now, — almost
like a flute."

The bell rang to call them to prayers.

" I am late for market this morning,"
said Gill ; " but I shalr reach town before
nine o'clock. I shall be glad when the
fall vegetables are ready, and I can take
them a little more leisurely, and not be
afraid of their wilting."

CHAPTER X.
MRS. BETH'S HOME.

MRS. BETH and Tib sat by the
broken lantern, wondering what
had become of Gill. The old woman
had a gray gown on, and a blue checked
apron; and Tib was in black silk, as usual,
and her white satin slippers. The two
little mice had been having a gala-time
all night, while Tib slept, and now they
were snug in their own bedroom, getting
rest for another frolic ; for, every night,
when market-women and market-men had
gone home, there was a merry party in the
vacated stalls ; and the treat was nuts and
apples and raisins and figs and pie and
cakes, and all sorts of goodies that were

MRS. BETH' S HOME. 99

left behind, with nobody to look after
them.

"Coffee-time is over," said Mrs. Beth,
as the Scotchman at last appeared. " Tib
and I are tired of looking for you. Is
there any thing wrong ? "

"'Tis always wrong, I think, to waste
precious time by lying in bed when a body
is not sick," said Gill. " I overslept my-
self, and, of course, it makes the work
crowd all day."

" It doesn't often happen, I am sure,"
said the old woman ; " this is the first time
since I've known you."

"And should be the last," said Gill.
" There's too much to be done, before the
long sleep, for one to be napping when
he might be up and doing.

" How beautiful the tomatoes are ! "
said Mrs. Beth, "and the egg-plant, and
the corn, — your people will be after them
soon."

100 THE OLD MARKET-CART.

She called them Gill's people, because
there were certain parties that knew what
vegetables the Scotchman brought, and
always purchased them.

Gill turned to go from the market, and
slipped on a piece of orange-peel and hurt
his left arm. He did not know but that it
was broken. Mrs. Beth told him she would
jump into the cart and drive to her home
with him and bandage it. Some neigh-
bor could attend to her stall meantime.

At first Gill said no ; but the arm was
so painful that it made him almost faint,
and he was afraid to drive at once to the
farm ; so he consented to go with the old
market-woman. Mrs. Holt watched the
two stalls, and Mrs. Beth and Tib and
Gill went along the narrow street, a half
mile or more away, and there, on the very
topmost floor, was the coziest place !
Right under a French roof was Mrs.
Beth's home, — only one room with one

MRS. BETH'S HOME. • 101

window ; but that room was full of com-
fort, and the window looked out upon a
prospect that was fit for a king to feast his
eyes upon.

Within was a bright carpet, and a cov-
ered lounge, and a little round table, and a
rocking-chair, and two cane-seated chairs
with cushions, and a wide shelf with one
book upon it, — the Book that has leaves
for the healing of the nations, — and a bit
of a fireplace with a cooking-stove in it,
and a green stand with a creeping vine
and a flowering rose, and a cupboard with
a famous bottle in it, which interested Gill
very much indeed ; for scarcely had its
contents touched his arm before the pain
began to go away, and when the bruised
place was neatly bound up, he was so free
from trouble that he could look about him
and enjoy the prospect.

One thing puzzled Gill very much, and
that was Tib's bed ; for the creature had

102 THE OLD MARKET-CART.

crept into a pretty little cradle, and lay
there sleeping as if she had been used to
it all her life.

" It was my little Tibbie's/' said Mrs.
Beth. " She was my only darling, and
died soon after her father ; and she loved .
the kitten so dearly, and had it with her
in the cradle so much, that I kept it for
Tib after she had gone away."

The old market-woman seemed to for-
get Gill altogether then ; for she knelt
down, and put her arms around the little
bed, and cried out, — " Oh, my baby, my
darling ! " as if her heart would break ;
and she did not arouse from her grief
until Tib got up and rubbed against her
face and licked her hand. So you see
that Mrs. Beth, who sat by the broken
lantern with such a bright, cheerful face,
had not been all her life free from sorrow ;
and that it is possible, by God's grace,
though we may have known bitter grief,

MRS. BETH'S HOME. 103

to smile in the world's face, and so to
bless all who may see us.

" I am not sorry that she has gone up
to be with God in the beautiful land,"
said the old market-woman, as she remem-
bered Gill, and arose from her knees ;
" but I miss her so ! — sometimes I miss
her so ! She used to stretch her little hands
from this window toward the sky, and God
knew it was better to take her from my
arms to his own, — I am glad now."

She looked up as if she could see the
little one on her heavenly Father's breast,
and Gill thought the old woman's face
almost angelic, as the glory of the upper
world shone upon it.

Outside the window was the broad city,
with the roofs and spires and distant water
and the nearer hills, — nothing of the mis-
erable lower stratum which poor people
get when they live upon the ground-floor.
All was pure and lovely and beautiful. It

104 THE OLD MARKET-CART.

made Gill very happy to know what a
pleasant home the old market-woman had.
He was almost thankful to the orange-
peel that had tripped him, since it had not
broken any bones. He told the children
all about the neat room under the sky, and
the little cradle, and the Tibbie in the
white robes, who had gone away for a
while from her mother, and the Tib in
the silk gown and satin slippers, which
now occupied the departed Tibbie's bed.

CHAPTER XL

GILL'S ROSES AND CANDLES.

TOASTER than even the wheels- of the
JL old market-cart could go round, the
summer went by with its rich treasures of
vegetables and* fruit ; and now the autumn
had come, and Gill and the children were
in the midst of the late produce. Gill was
pulling carrots, and Ben helped him in his
toil ; and Sally kept time to their labor
with the tinkle, tinkle of her little silver
tongue.

" What beauties ! " said she, as the
golden spirals came out of the black earth,
"and what pretty feathery leaves they
have ! "

" Yes," said Gill. " No wonder the la-

106 THE OLD MARKET-CART.

dies used to wear them for feathers. To
my taste they are much prettier. Pity
they wilt so soon ! As long as they are
fresh they are elegant."

" They are the most beautiful leaves in
the garden," said Ben, closely observing
the delicate filagree ; " the leaf of the pars-
nip is something like them, but coarser."

Gill was eloquent in his admiration.
" When they first shoot up, they are like
fine ferns," said he. " I'll cut off the thick
end of this root, and put it into a shallow
vessel with water, and it will unfold its
leaves, and thus you can have green things
all through the winter."

" Thank you ; that will be lovely ! " said
Sally. " My Aunt Martha puts it in a
white or pink vase, and sets it in her win-
dow, and it looks beautiful."

" Gill, will you please tell us where the
carrot comes from ? " said Ben.

"It is a native of Britain," said the

On L'V ROSES AND CANDLES. 107

Scotchman, "When it grows wild it is
small and dry and white and strong-fla-
vored ; but if we take pains to cultivate it,
it loses the disagreeable taste and is mild
and sweet, and of a pale straw-color, or r
rich golden-yellow. It is excellent as a fla
vor for soups, and for b^ef-stews ; but peo
pie do not like it much as ;\ separate dish
It is used more to feed ho/ses *nd cattle,
than for the table."

" Lucy makes splendid beef-slews," said
Ben.

"Mother tells us not to say splendid,
when we speak of food," said little Sally
" She says ' splendid' is for the eyes, antf
not for the mouth."

Ben corrected himself. " I meant de-
licious, — that is mother's word for LucyV
good cookery."

" I cut up the carrots for Dobbin and
Flash and Brindle," said Gill. " They like
them mixed with their hay. In the oM

108 THE OLD MARKET-CART.

country the deer are fed with the roots,
and the tops are dried for hay."

" The root is very sweet, — can we get
sugar from it ? " asked Ben.

" It does not give us sugar. People have
tried to make it, but have not succeeded
very well. It yields ardent spirits, which
is a poor use to put it to ; and I am sorry
when any body turns it to such an evil
purpose."

" Pity ! " ejaculated little Sally.
" I like the carrots best when they are
waving their green plumes in the air,"
said Gill. " They have pretty, innocent,
white flowers, and rough, bristly seeds, and
then there is the gold down below. Some-
times people make a syrup of the root for
coughs, and sometimes they scrape it, and
make it into a poultice for cancerous ul-
cers ; and sailors have a sort of carrot mar-
malade for scurvy, when they are far away
at sea, and cannot obtain fresh vegetables."

GILL'S ROSES AND CANDLES. 109

" I didn't know it was so useful a plant,"
said Ben.

" We have to look at things all around
to find out their real worth," said Gill.
" If you were to ask people what this was,
most of them would say ' a carrot,' to be
sure ; but there would be nothing to them
in the word except the yellow root before
their eyes, — no picture in the mind, of
the wild thing that was trained and cul-
tured to shoot up green feathers, and
flourish pure blossoms, and hide a golden
treasure in the earth."

Gill always grew poetic over his vege-
tables, there was nothing common-place to
him in the garden plat that was thick
with the variety of growth. His soul
could feel the sublime mysteries all about
him, and from the time that he put spade
or plow into the earth, at early spring,
until he gathered in the late ripe harvest,
he was filled with wonder at the silent

110 THE OLD MARKETS < . r.

work that was going on. He tL ought it
such an honor that the unseen Power, who
gives the increase, should make hun a
co-worker. A co-worker with God ! It
was a great thought with Gill, as he iili-
gently planted and watered. He did not
say to himself, — " God could do all this
without me. I am not worthy to bo his
helper." He knew that the truest huuiility
is to do exactly what we are told to do by
one high in authority and office ; so he did
his part faithfully, and was blessed in it.

" Shall you pull any parsnips to-da^ ? "
asked Ben.

"Yes, parsnips, and cabbages, and _ur-
nips. Mrs. Beth likes variety, and there
is a call for all now."

Gill had time enough to loiter ovei his
work and amuse the little people, since
there was no haste now lest the fruits and
vegetables should decay before he could
get them off his hands.

GILL'S ROSES AND CANDLES. Ill

" What are you doing ? " asked Ben, as
the Scotchman took out his knife, and
began to scrape away and whittle upon
a parsnip.

" We shall see. Wait awhile," said Gill.

The children were curious to know
what would come from his skillful hand,
and, presently he delighted them with a
cluster of white roses, — the petals curling
one over the other so naturally and grace-
fully that the little bunch of flowers would
have deceived almost any body in the
world into thinking them real roses.

" These are for Sally," said Gill.

" Oh, thank you ! I will give them to
mamma for the blue vase on the bracket,
she will be so pleased."

Sally always thought of mamma, the
very first thing, when she had any pleas-
ure. That was but fair since mamma's
first thought was always of her little girl,
when her own heart was made glad in any

112 THE OLD MARKET-CART.

way. If we dearly love any body, we
must share with that person every joy.

" I will make something for Ben, now/'
said Gill. " He can have some fun with
it this evening."

It was but a minute before he handed
a perfect imitation of a candle to the lad.

" You must blacken the wick as if it
had been burnt," said Gill, " and give it
to Lucy to light for you before you go to
bed. How she will wonder why the thing
is so slow in catching ! "

"You are very good to think of our
sport ; it will be real fun," said Ben, put-
ting the candle safely into his deep
pocket.

" Now for work," said Gill, pulling at the
parsnips that came quickly out of their
dark bed-room.

" When these grow wild," said he, " the
leaves and stem are hairy ; but when cul-
tivated they are smooth, and the root is

GILL'S ROSES AND CANDLES. 113

sweeter, and larger. The flower is yel-
low. We use the parsnip as we do the
carrot, more for cattle than for the table.
It makes the cows' milk richer, and gives a
fine color and flavor to the butter. All
domestic animals — cows, oxen, and horses,
like it ; and people think it very nice
. when it is boiled, and then fried brown in
butter. The parsnip is not afraid of Jack
Frost. It bears the cold nicely, and is not
hurt by the winter, if it is left in the
ground. There's a species called " the
rough parsnip," that is a native of the Le-
vant, and grows wild in the south of Italy,
France and Greece. From it we obtain a
gum resin, called by the druggists
' opopanax,' and used by the doctors as a
medicine."

8

CHAPTER XII.

THE CHILDREN'S GUESTS.

MR. and Mrs. Reed came out to see
what Gill and the children were
about. Mr. Reed was at home for the day,
which was not a very frequent event, and
it was quite a treat to him to leave all
thought of his ledger behind him, and live
for a few free hours amid the things of
nature, that lead the mind to higher
thoughts than are begotten by business
speculations, and accounts. The parents
stood a little aloof, and heard what Gill
was talking about.

"We owe much to this intelligent
Scotchman," said Mrs. Reed. " He has
taught the children so many things from

THE CHILDREN'S GUESTS. 115

this garden book, that would have lost
half their interest if they had been printed
upon paper."

" Oh, yes, I like this sort of school very
much," said the father. " One never for-
gets the knowledge gained in this way ;
but I am glad that Ben and Sally are none
the less diligent over the printed lessons,
when you call them in to their studies."

"They always apply themselves earn-
estly. I have no fault to find with them,"
said mamma. " I have spoken to them so
constantly of the mind as a talent given by
God to be improved to his honor and
glory, that I think they have a conscien-
tious motive in their efforts to learn."

"There are papa and mamma," said
Sally, espying the beloved ones.

The children ran to meet their guests,
and to take them the round of the gar-
den. They felt themselves to be host and
hostess, and wished to do all honor to their

It6 THE OLD MARKET-CART.

distinguished visitors. The Elysian fields,
with their beautiful meadows, and groves,
and cloudless sky, and sweet music, and
soft celestial light, could have been no
more beautiful to the imagination than
was the reality of Gill's vegetable gar-
den to these children, with the adjoining
pasture where Brindle and Flash were
serenely chewing the cud, and the late
butterflies were flitting hither and thither,
and the chirp of the cricket came pleas-
antly to the ear, and the warble of birds,
making ready for their autumn flight,
brought back the sense of the early
spring.

The sky was blue and bright, and there
was no chill in the air, and the grass was
still green upon the earth, and the leaves
upon the trees had not changed to russet
and crimson and gold.

There was so much to exhibit. Mr.
Reed had to examine with eye and hand

THE CHILDREN'S GUESTS. 117

the garden growth, and then Gill was left
to pull alone at the parsnips for a while,
and the little people took their guests into
the meadow to stroke the glossy red cows,
and to take in the sweet milky breath,
that mamma loved so, and thought so
healthful.

Brindle was gentle as a lamb, and
held her face close to her mistress, and
looked at her with her great pensive eyes,
and rubbed her nose against Sally's face,
and stood patient and loving, for the
caresses that she seemed to prize.

Flash, a little younger and more antic,
frisked about for a few minutes, but came
at last to a stand-still beside Mr. Reed,
and allowed him to. lead her by the horn,
as if she were a docile child. Ben and
Sally were as pleased as though they
•were responsible for her courteous be-
haviour, and they knew something "how
a father and mother must feel when their

118 THE OLD MARKET-CART.

children do them justice by correct and
polite manners. Sally praised Flash when
she had a sly chance, and Ben and
her parents were engrossed by some-
thing else.

" I'm just as proud of you as can be,"
said she, giving the cow a good hug, and
patting her head gently. " I was afraid
you were going to forget, yourself al-
together ; but you came to your senses in
time to show a proper breeding to my
company, — that's a good Flash. Now go
on chewing your cud, and . think how
happy you have made me."

Flash seemed to be whispering it all to
Brindle just after. They had their heads
close together, and were as cosy and lov-
ing as could be ; and they looked around
now and then at the party in the distance,
as if they were sorry ever to lose such
kind and appreciative friends from view.

Mr. and Mrs. Reed lingered under an

THE CHILDREN'S GUESTS. 119

old apple-tree where the market-cart was
standing. Gill had brought it there the
night before, thinking to gather the apples
to-day. Above it the branches spread out
with a wealth of ruddy fruit.

" Let us rest here for awhile," said
mamma. " It is so pleasant."

Papa helped her up into the cart, and
got in beside her ; and the children fol-
lowed, and all sat upon the edge, as
humble as the little turkeys that aspired
to the topmost bough of the tree, yet
were content with their lowly position.
The turkeys had been exalted long be-
fore now, and sat every night on their
lofty perch, with the heavens and the
stars nearer. I suppose that always hap-
pens when one humbles himself, and then
is lifted up, — the glory comes surely
closer to him.

But about my little party in the meadow !
Was there ever such pleasure to the chil-

120 THE OLD MARKET-CART.

dren ? To see papa and mamma sitting
with them on the edge of the cart, as
happy and contented as if it were a
throne !

That is the beauty of older compan-
ionship,— when grown people can come
down to the tiny level, and really enjoy
the descent.

" You look about as young as Sally,"
said Mr. Reed, observing the fresh color
in his wife's cheeks, and the sparkle
in her eye.

"It is rejuvenating to be out here
with the children," returned she.

" What is that, mamma ?" asked Sally.

tf To be made youthful again. I feel
quite like a little child. That is the way
we should always feel in spirit, though I
do not know that I should care to go
back bodily to my little girlhood, — I have
such a happy home, and such a dear
husband, and such good, loving children ! *

THE CHILDREN'S GUESTS. 121

Papa and the little people looked as
if they felt this compliment very precious,
and they could not help giving mamma
a kiss under the shadow of the old apple-
tree. But those were not the only
caresses that the green leaves had been
witness to ; for months ago, in the bright
springtime, there was such a happy
family in the robin's nest, and often and
often the father and the young brood had
kissed the mother-bird, as they told each
other how blest a tie it was that bound
them, and how perfectly contented they
were in their sweet and hallowed relation-
ships.

The breeze rustled the green leaves
to-day and made a soft melody, and the
red fruit spoke out in praises of the
sun and the rain and the air, that had
helped it to grow up from its babyhood
to a ripe and mellow age. So many

122 THE OLD MARKET-CART.

voices all about if one could but hear
them!

Mamma sat thoughtful, listening. She
always had an ear for every sound in
nature ; and what was said reached down
deep into her soul, and made it very
thankful, — thankful to him who gives
such beauty to the earth, and promises
still better things in heaven to those who
love him and strive to keep his command-
ments.

" Can we not sing something ? " asked
papa. " I wish we could have a little
music out here in the open air. It is so
delightful to hear singing when there
is no ceiling to deaden the sound."

Mamma spoke to the children, and then
all burst forth in that beautiful anthem : —

" The strain upraise, of joy and praise, Alleluia !

To the glory of their King

Shall the ransomed people sing, Alleluia !

THE CHILDREN'S GUESTS. 123

And the choirs that dwell on high

Shall re-echo through the sky, Alleluia ! Alleluia !

They in the rest of paradise who dwell,

The blessed ones with joy the chorus swell, Alleluia !

The planets beaming on their heavenly way,

The shining constellations join and say, Alleluia !

Ye clouds that onward sweep, ye winds on pinions light,

Ye thunders echoing loud and deep, ye lightnings
wildly bright,

In sweet consent unite you, Alleluia !

Ye floods and ocean billows, ye storms and winter
snow,

Ye days of cloudless beauty, hoar frost and summer
glow,

Ye groves that wave in spring, and glorious forests, sing,
Alleluia !

First let the birds, with painted plumage gay,

Exalt their great Creator's praise and say, Alleluia !

Then let the beasts of earth, with varying strain,

Join in creation's %ymn, and cry again, Alleluia !

Here let the mountains thunder forth sonorous, Alle-
luia !

There let the valleys sing in gentle chorus, Alleluia !

Thou jubilant abyss of ocean, cry, Alleluia !

Ye tracts of earth, and continents, reply, Alleluia I

To God who all creation made,

The frequent hymn be duly paid, Alleluia !

124 THE OLD MARKET-CART.

This is the strain, the eternal strain the Almighty loves,
Alleluia !

This is the song, the heavenly song, that Christ the King
approves, Alleluia !

Wherefore we sing both heart and voice awaking, Alle-
luia !

And children voices echo, answer making, Alleluia to
the Lord !

With Alleluia evermore,

The Son and Spirit we adore.

Praise be done to the Three in One

Alleluia, Alleluia, Alleluia, Amen ! "

How sweet the anthem was as it floated
over the meadow and upward toward God !
The cows stood quietly listening ; and
Gill stopped his work to hear the strain,
and Lucy came to the kitchen door with
Jack in her arms, and Dobbin pricked up
his ears and forgot his hay, and the birds
joined the concert, and the crickets chimed
in with their cheerful notes, — and, really,
the old market-cart standing under the
apple-tree with the thills resting upon the
bar of the fence, seemed almost like a

THE CHILDREN'S GUESTS. 125

church, with the blue and crimson and
green overhead, and the worshipers swell-
ing out this hymn of praise to the great
Creator.

"It sounds so very sweet," said little
Sally. " Mamma sings like an angel, I
should think."

Mamma put her hand on the child's
head. "We must all try and learn the
angel's song, — Glory be to God on high,
and on earth peace, good will toward
men ! " she said.

CHAPTER XIII.
LITTLE SALLY'S. SICKNESS.

«\ yl 7HY in the .world doesn't it
V V light ! " said Lucy, as she wast-
ed match after match upon Ben's candle.

Ben and Sally stood watching and
waiting, and Gill sat with Jack upon his
knee. He was pretending not to notice ;
but, by and by, Lucy got tired, and before
Gill could know what she was about, she
put the candle into his hand, and took
the baby from him.

"Do light it, please, Gill," she said.
" I've tried and tried to no purpose. The
wick must have been wet, I think."

Gill had a comical expression upon his

LITTLE SALLY'S SICKNESS. 127

face. He did not expect the laugh to
turn upon him.

" Ah, well," he said, " it is not the first
time a man has fallen into the pit that ha
had digged for others. You may fetch
another candle, Lucy, for the night would
wear away without a glimmer from this."

" What a perfect cheat it is ! " said Lucy,
as she smelled the parsnip to make sure
that it was not tallow, after all.

Jack wanted it for a plaything ; but his
mother said it would be the very way to
make him grasp at the real candle, and so
come to mischief and harm. The better
way was not to meddle with even the sem-
blance of that which would bring him to
evil, however innocent the thing might be
in itself ; so the fictitious candle was laid
upon the kitchen shelf, and Ben went up to
bed by the light of one of Lucy's " dips,'
as she called it. The good woman could
not get out of her old housewifely ways,'

128 THE OLD MARKET-CART.

and she stored up and melted the mutton-
tallow, and had a long stick with wick
twisted over it, and, every little while, she
dipped ten or a dozen short candles to
save the wax-lights, which she thought too
good for common use.

Sally was not able to rise from her bed
the next morning. She had taken a seri-
ous cold, and one of her lungs was badly
congested. Her fever was raging for seve-
ral days, and the doctor pronounced her a
very sick child; and mamma thought the
time had come when her little daughter
would be called to rest above, and she
and papa would be left here below to listen
for the sweet voice that would surely
speak to their hearts through the dimness.

There were moments when Sally's mind
wandered ; but it always dwelt upon the
beautiful things of nature. She spoke of the
pretty blossoms, and of the birds and but-
terflies, and of God's goodness in making

LITTLE SALLY'S SICKNESS. 129

such a bright world for us to live in ; and
it taught her parents the value of a pure
and healthful training which would never
lose its hold on the mind and spirit,
though one had no control over one's
brain. It was very sweet to listen to the
child's words, as she lay at twilight with
her burning hand clasped in her mother's
cool, soft palm.

" Are you an angel ? " she asked, as the
face of love bent gently over her. " How
white and beautiful your forehead is ! and
you have blue eyes like the sky ! Can you
sing that song which the shepherds heard
when the -child Jesus was born at Bethle-
hem ? It begins : —

1 Glory be to God on high ; ' "

and then the little voice sang, tremblingly,
the first faint strain. Mamma had to join,
though she was almost choking with grief ;
for she thought, " Surely, my little daugh-

130 THE OLD MARKET-CART.

ter is going away from me to the world of
light and joy ! "

To the world of light and joy ! and yet,
sad, O mother, that seems so strange !

When some familiar tone made the
little sick child say "mamma," there was
such a thrill of delight in Mrs. Reed's
heart ! It was sweeter to be mamma than
to be even an angel. Mothers will under-
stand that well, — such mothers as feel
the majesty and worth of the little immor-
tal spirits that have been sent to them
to nurture for God.

Thanks to the great Physician, and to
the good doctor, and to mamma's faithful
nursing, little Sally was not long in bed ;
but was out very soon again with Ben
and Gill, to learn something more in
this lower world before she would be
ready for the higher life and the higher
teaching.

She seemed so happy to be able to

LITTLE SALLY'S SICKNESS. 131

breathe with free lungs, and to feel no
pain. Every thing looked new and charm-
ing to her, and her feet were so light,
that she almost flew over the meadow
to greet Brindle and Flash. She carried
her doll wherever she went, and shared
with it every pleasure, — there had been
such a long separation, almost a week,
when she had taken no notice of her pet.

" Jennie has not forgotten me," she said
to Lucy, as she hugged her baby to her
breast. "The little creature put out her
arms at once when she saw me, though I
had grown so thin and pale. It takes a
great change to make babies forget their
mothers, does it not, Lucy ? "

"Yes, indeed," replied the Scotchwo-
man, " my little man knew me when I had
been a month out of his sight ; but you
haven't lost much, lassie. The roses are
blooming afresh on your cheeks, and your
eyes are as bonny as ever."

132 THE OLD MARKET-CART.

Dobbin heard the tones which he had
missed, and whinnied for Sally to come to
the barn and speak a word of greeting to
him, and he ate from her hand, and moved
his head up and down as if he would
never tire of saying, " How d'ye do ?,
how d'ye do." As for the dear old
market-cart, Sally could have put her arms
right around it, for joy, if it had been
possible to hug and caress it ; and many
a word was spoken to the great wheels
that had gone their way so often while
she lay sick in the house, and had brought
her such fresh oranges, and bananas,
and figs, and other goodies.

CHAPTER XIV.

MORE GARDEN TALKS.

GILL was pulling turnips, and the
little girl ran away from every
thing else to see the roots come out
of the ground. How large and white they
were, — tinged here and there with violet !
Gill took hold by the long leaves and
shook the roots from the earth. He cut
into the white flesh and tasted it, — " How
nice and pungent it is ! " he said. " I
like these better than the ruta-baga, or
Swedish turnip. That is yellow in color,
and has a stronger flavor ; this is more
delicate to the palate." The turnips stood
in rows in the ground, and made a very

134 THE OLD MARKET-CART.

pretty appearance where the yellow blos-
soms of those that were kept for seed
shone amid the green.

"They belong to the same family as
the cabbages," said Gill. "But what is
very singular is that this branch has its
best qualities partly hidden, while the cab-
bages flaunt theirs in open air."

Ben laughed. " You funny Gill ! " said he.

" Don't forget how good the white
turnip is for chilblains," said the Scotch-
man. " It cured Lucy's hands last winter,
and it cured my feet, and the remedy is so
simple that I want every body to know it."

" Let me see ; you slice it, do you not ? "
asked Ben.

" Yes ; cut it in slices, and put salt upon
them, and as the juice runs out, drain
it into a bottle, and rub it upon the frozen
parts."

" I remember," said Ben. " It was such
a comfort last year."

MORE GARDEN TALKS. 135

Gill held a large white globe in his
hand. He seemed so proud of its beau-
tiful shape. Then he showed the children
a long root that he called a ' tankard.'

"There are a great many varieties of
the white turnips," he said, "and also of
the yellow. They tried to make a sort
of meal of the Swedish turnips, for man
and for cattle, by pressing out the juice
and grinding the root ; but it would not
keep long enough to pay."

" I wonder if they could make good
johnny-cake of it ! " said Sally.

" Not quite like corn meal," said Gill.

" Sheep eat turnips, don't they ? " asked
Ben.

" Yes^ we feed them to sheep, and hogs,
and other animals, and we give them the
tops sometimes ; but they do not nourish
them as the roots do."

Gill left the turnip-bed, and went to
the cabbages. These stood in soldierly

136 THE OLD MARKET-CART.

array, looking top heavy, as the large bear-
skin caps make some of our military
companies appear.

" What fine ' drum-heads ' these are,"
said Gill.

They were as round and firm as could
be, with the many leaves folded in, one
upon another, from the delicate tiny cen-
tral, to the coarser outside covers. Gill
cut off some of the heads from the finest
stumps, and put the roots carefully aside.

" Why do you save those ?" asked Ben.

" For seed," replied the Scotchman. " I
shall set these out next spring, and they
will sprout, and run up and bear yellow
blossoms and little round black seeds.
I keep the seed from spring to^ spring,
and sow a corner bed, and transplant from
that to my great square patch the most
promising of the shoots."

" You always have splendid cabbages ! "
said Ben.

MORE GARDEN TALKS. 137

" I try to have the best of every thing.
To be sure it takes care and labor ; but
then it does honor to Him who conde-
scends to work with us."

" You mean honor to God," said little
Sally.

" Yes," said Gill. " His part is always
performed to perfection, and it seems a
great dishonor done to Him when the
garden fails of its beauty, because of our
carelessness or neglect."

Ben was silent for a few minutes and
very thoughtful. He remembered a period
of drought in the summer time, when the
little patch that was especially his own
had suffered, merely because he was too
lazy to carry water from the well, until
the heavens should drop down moisture.

Presently he said, " Gill, you worked very
hard in that dry time. Is that the reason
why your vegetables have not dwindled
away as mine did ? "

138 THE OLD MARKET-CART.

" To be sure," said Gill. " It was but
for a little while that I had to put forth
my own hand ; surely I could do that much
for him who is never weary of helping
us."

Ben was getting a good lesson concern-
ing the gracious Providence that helps
those who work with it. " I will never
again think that I have nothing to do
but to receive," said the lad. " I will
work with my might whatever my hands
find to do."

" That is a good resolution, my boy ! "
said Gill.

Sally was examining the adjoining bed
of cauliflowers. Gill pointed out to the chil-
dren the different varieties. " These all
belong to the same family," said he ; " the
common cabbage which is so generally in
use on our tables, the more delicate cauli-
flower, the broccoli with its loose heads,
the khol-rabi or turnip-stemmed cabbage,

MORE GARDEN TALKS. 139

and the kale, with no head, but with pur-
ple, branching leaves/'

" Every body likes cabbage, it seems to
me," said Ben.

" Yes, in some form or other," returned
the Scotchman ; " either boiled, or sliced
raw, and eaten with vinegar, or made into
sour-crout, as the Germans prefer it."
" How is that ? " asked Ben.
"They slice it and put a layer in the
bottom of a barrel, and salt it well and
pound it with a pestle, or tread it down
with heavy boots, till the barrel is half
filled with froth. Layer after layer of cab-
bage and salt are added, and bruised until
the barrel is pretty nearly full, when some
cold water is poured in, and the top of the
barrel pressed down with heavy stones.
The contents ferment for a week or two,
during which time the brine is drawn off
and new brine poured in ; and, when it is
perfectly clear, the mass is fit for use. It

140 THE OLD MARKET-CART.

should be kept under the brine all the
time."

" It sounds like vile stuff," said Ben.
Gill thought so too. "I never eat it,"
he said ; " but many people think it very
nice. You know I told you that snakes
were considered good food by the heathen
Africans ; and rats and dogs and caterpil-
lars, are great luxuries with some nations."
"Ugh !" ejaculated both the children.
" I must get some beets now," said Gill,
going to the other end of the garden,
and unearthing the red and white roots.
"These white ones are as sweet as
sugar," said Ben. " We had some for din-
ner yesterday. You get sugar from these,
do you not, Gill ? "

" Yes, sugar is sometimes made from
beets. The French have large manufac-
tories for that purpose. They crush out
the juice, and give the dry substance to
the cattle."

MORE GARDEN TALKS. 141

" Can we not make some beet-sugar,
just to try ? " asked Ben.

"Easy enough," said Gill. "All we
have to do is to take some of these white
roots, wash them clean, and grate them to
a powder, and press the juice from them
and boil it down to a thick syrup, which
will form sugar when cool. I will get Lucy
to make the experiment for you."

" Oh, thank you ! — that will be very
nice ! " said the children.

"The French have so cultivated the
sugar-beet, that it grows to a great size,"
said Gill. " The red beet is used oftener
for the table. We eat both the young roots
and the tops for greens. Many people pre-
fer them to spinach, Mrs. Beth says."

'• Don't you like the bright-red beet
sliced in vinegar ? I do," said little Sally.

" But vinegar is not good for children ;
the simplest food is the most proper for
them," said Gill.

142 THE OLD MARKET-CART.

" You think just as mamma does," said
Sally. " She never allows us to use pep-
per or vinegar or spice. She says when
people are used to such things in theit
childhood, they are very apt to be intem-
perate in their eating and drinking when
they grow up."

" Mamma has reason and good sense in
all things," said the Scotchman. " You
may well thank God for such a guardian.
It is not every mother who knows how to
govern her children in the matter of food
for the body, as well as food for the soul."

Gill went and took a survey of his on-
ions. The green, hollow stems of such as
were allowed to run to seed, bore up
round, brownish globes. The cylindrical
leaves of the others had bowed themselves
down to the earth, and the bulbs were
ripe for the market. Gill pulled one, and
showed the children how beautiful it was
with its many delicate folds.

MORE GARDEN TALKS. 143

"If only it had not such a dreadful
odor ! " said Sally.

The little girl was always very choice in
her words. She had been so much with
her mother, and Gill was not like a com-
mon laborer ; for he dignified toil by im-
proving his mind while he cultivated the
soil.

" The white onion is milder than the
red," he said. " It is nice when boiled in
milk. We call it 'silver-skin.' There is
a species of onion which is a native of
Syria, and which was brought to other
parts of the world. It is called ' echalotte/
and has awl-shaped, hollow leaves, and
purplish-yellow flowers, and very agreea-
ble roots. And there is the leek, with its
tall, purple stem, and large seed-balls, and
mild bulbs, which some people prefer to
our onions. And there is garlic, with its
grass-like leaves, and white flowers, and
the -stem with a head composed of little

144 THE OLD MAEKET-CAET.

bulbs, and the root divided into several
parts called ' cloves,' wrapped up in one
common membrane. They are turned out
of their blanket and strung together, and
hung about the market-stalls."

" Oh, yes, I've seen them," said Ben ;
"but they taste like our onion, do they
not ? "

" They are stronger," said the Scotch-
man. " In the old countries, especially in
Spain, garlic is used in almost every dish.
It is very easy to cultivate, as it is a very
hardy plant. The doctors give prepara-
tions of this plant for various diseases, and
the juice makes a strong cement for bro-
ken glass or china. Even its bad odor is
useful ; for it drives away snails and worms
and moles, and other voracious creatures,
if placed near their haunts."

" I suppose onions are very nice," said
little Sally ; " but it makes my eyes ache
to stand so near this bed. I am going to

MORE GARDEN TALKS. 145

play with Jack for a while now. You and
Ben can pull the vegetables, if you like."

" We shall have a resting-spell, after a
while," said Gill. "The potatoes are all
in the bin, and I have only the pumpkins to
get in ; and then no more jogging to the
the city, day after day, for a long time to
come."

" What will you do all winter ? " asked
Ben.

" I shall find work as the hours come,
if it please God to spare my life," said
Gill. " I've never yet seen the time when
there was nothing to occupy me. Even
the ground, that seems to lie idle during
the frost and cold, is secretly making ready
for the spring, and I shall be as busy as it,
with bulbs and plants and seeds, and
plans for their future growth. I have to
look to it that they do not sprout too soon
in the cellar, and that they are in a proper

state of dryness or moisture ; and I must
10

146 TEE OLD MARKET-CART.

enrich the land, and arrange so that the
crops shall not exhaust it. Never fear. I
shall have enough to do without going
every day to market in the old cart."

CHAPTER XV.

MRS. BETH'S REQUEST.

THE Reed family were at breakfast.
Lucy had peeled some potatoes, and
baked them brown in the oven, and they
were very delicious, the children thought, —
so much better than with the skins on.

" Gill dug the potatoes while I was-
sick," said Sally. " I am sorry, for we •
lost our lesson."

" Maybe papa will tell us about them,"
said Ben;

" I think you must know nearly as much
as I do about this common vegetable,"
said Mr. Reed. "Did you not help to
plant it ? "

148 THE OLD MARKET-CART.

Sally recollected that she and her mother
were with Gill when he put the tubers
into the hills, and that he told her how
each little " eye " in the potato was a germ
of life, and would sprout, and send up a
new plant to spread out its green leaves,
and display its purple and white blossoms
and its little clusters of green seed balls,
as big as some of Ben's marbles. She and
Ben went down cellar when they had
finished their meal, to see the different
varieties. The " early rose " and the " mer-
cer " and the " pink-eyes " and the " blue-
noses" and the "ladies' fingers."

" These big fellows Gill cuts in pieces
to plant," said Ben. " And he takes care
to have two eyes or buds in each piece,
for fear one might fail. He planted some
seeds from the ' apples ' as he calls the
potato-balls, and there were tubers as large
as a hen's egg this first year. He says
they will bear nice potatoes, fit for food,

MRS. BETH' S REQUEST. 149

the third year. He has put them away as
very choice seed."

Mr. Reed told the children about the
wild potato, which belongs to South
America. He said, " It is a great blessing
that it was transplanted to various parts
of the world, and that it bears so well its
exile from its native land, and gives nour-
ishment to so many people."

He told the children also that the
potato plant is of the same family as the
woody nightshade, which has purple flow-
ers and red berries, and the garden night-
shade, which has white flowers and black
berries, and the deadly nightshade or
belladonna, with its reddish flowers and
purple berries.

" It is only the tubers that are whole-
some," said Mr. Reed. " The leaves and
blossoms are narcotic, and produce a sim-
ilar effect to the poisonous belladonna and
henbane and stramonium."

150 THE OLD MARKET-CART.

" Fortunately, there is very little danger
of any body's eating potato leaves, or flow-
ers ; for both taste and smell are disa-
greeable," said Ben.

Mamma called the children. " It is too
damp down there for Sally," she said.

Papa had but a moment for them, but
it was long enough to give them a few
more facts about potato starch, and potato
yeast and bread and cheese.

" Cheese ! potato cheese ! " exclaimed
the children.

" Yes," said papa. " The potatoes must
be mashed to a paste, and curd and
salt added, and some other ingredients,
and the whole pressed together in a
mold."

Gill was off to market. The old cart
was heaped-up, — baskets of turnips and
carrots, parsnips, beets, and potatoes on
the bottom ; and above these the great
'' drum-heads " and the yellow pumpkins

MRS. BETH'S REQUEST. 151

Dobbin felt brisk and cheery as he trotted
along in the fresh autumnal air, and the
Scotchman was as blithe as a lad of
seventeen, who looks only upon the bright
side of life. Gill was thinking of the old
country far away, where he used to play
among the heather, and of the day when
he first met bonny Lucy in the dingle.
He cast no regretful looks across the
waters to the old home and the former
times ; but he thanked heaven that he
and Lucy and Jack were under this free
blue American sky, and that they had
health of body and vigor of mind, and that
they were all traveling toward the beauti-
ful city that lies beyond the great sea.
He touched the ripe vegetables with a
gentle, almost a caressing hand. " Well
done ! " said he. ' " Well done ! The har-
vest is past, the summer is ended, and
you have made good use of sun and air
and rain, and here you are in the perfec-

152 THE OLD MARKET-CART.

tion of your beauty. I am proud to call
you mine."

His words seemed to impress him
strangely. He thought of himself in con-
nection with this produce that he was
bearing away to market.

" Am I ripening for the great harvest ? "
said he. " Will the Master look upon
me with approving eye, and say, ' Well
done ! well done ! ' "

Gill's heart was full of sweet trust. He
was trying to do the very best that he
could, and he knew that the blessed
Saviour would do all the rest for him, and
that God would count it as his own right-
eousness. This was what made him so
blithe as he jogged along toward the
market-place.

" Tib " did an unusual thing as she
heard the familiar " whoa " outside the
door. She shook the folds of her black
silk gown, and tripped along in her white

^ MRS. BETH'S BEQUEST. 153

satin slippers to meet him, as if she knew
that he would not come very soon again,
and as if she wanted to do him all
the honor she could by ushering him in.
For you must know that it is always a
beautiful courtesy when we open the door
for a guest, rather than leave it to a ser-
vant to do ; and I suppose you have learned
long, ago that it is true politeness to
accompany a friend to the portals of your
house, when he must leave you, and bid him
adieu, as he goes out from under your roof.
" Adieu," — that is a precious prayer in a
word, — think of it always when it escapes
your lips, and be sure that it comes from
your earnest heart. " I commend you to
God, who is able and willing to take care
of you." That is what it means.

Mrs. Beth made Gill drink from her
tin coffee-kettle, and gave him a buttered
roll to eat. She and Tib vied with each
other in hospitality. He thought he had

154 THE OLD MARKET-CART.

never seen her with such light in her eyes
as on this morning ; but then you must
remember that his own soul was particu-
larly bright and sunny, and we often see
the reflection of ourselves in other faces.
That is a good thing to -know, for it will
lead us to take especial care as to what is
within us ; for we must surely desire the
very best and happiest reflection. Nobody
likes an ugly image of himself. I want to
sit again, and again, when the photo-
grapher shows me a disagreeable picture,
and I always turn away from my mirror
when it does not give my very best ex-
pression. I wonder if one can not have
the very best expression all the time, if
the heart is full of sweet and pure and holy
thoughts. It is worth trying.

Gill did not stop long in the market.
It was never his way to loiter after his
errand was finished. He put the baskets
of vegetables upon the bench around the

MRS. BETH'S REQUEST. 151

stall, and the crisp green cabbages and
purple kale and nice cauliflowers upon the
table, and turned to go away ; but Mrs.
Beth had another word to say. She took
off her spectacles, and wiped them, and
put them on her nose again. Then she
lifted Tib upon her knee and stroked
gently the creature's head.

" If any thing should happen to me,"
said she, " I should like for Tib to have
a good home where they will treat her as
one of the family. She's been a faithful
companion to me, and I should feel easy
about her if you will promise to take her
to the farm, and care for her, if she ever
needs other care than mine ; will you ? "

To be sure the Scotchman said, " Yes,"
for he knew that Sally would go almost
wild with joy over such a cat as Tib ;
but he wondered all the way home what
was the matter with the old market-woman
that she should be so eager to provide a

156 THE OLD MARKET-CART.

home for her pet. Not all the way home,
for when he had reached the first few
rods of the last mile there was a poor
man by the wayside half dead from fatigue,
and Gill helped him into the cart, and
talked to him the rest of the way, so that
Mrs. Beth faded quite out of his mind.
The man was old and very feeble, and
had no friends. He had been a soldier,
and had outlived all who loved him, —
all but One. We can neither outlive Him,
nor his boundless love. It was that
almighty and everlasting Friend, who
sent Gill to lift him into the cart at
the very moment when his own strength
had failed him. The children ran to meet
Gill as he drove into the yard. They saw
the old gray head, and had pity. They
walked beside the soldier as Gill led him
to a seat in the kitchen, and talked pleas-
antly to him as Lucy refreshed him with
a cup of tea, and a biscuit, and the

MRS. BETH'S REQUEST. 157

old man blessed them, and called them
" God's angels." How beautiful a name !

Mamma came out with her arms full
of clothing, and said that she would give
him shelter and food, until he could be
taken to the " Home." That was an
institution not far away for aged and poor
men. But you should have heard little
Sally, as she talked to the old market-
cart, rehearsing its good deeds and giving
it a well merited praise.

" You dear old body ! " said she, as she
brushed away the dust preparatory to mov-
ing in from the corn-crib, with her little
family. " I don't know what you haven't
done in your life, and what you haven't
been ! Ever since I was born you've been
going, going, with a great burden on your
back, — not your own burden either, but
every body's else, — carrying food for hun-
gry mouths, and bringing home good things

158 THE OLD MARKET-CART.

for us ; and you've been such a splendid
house for Jennie and me, and such a
grand church for us all, — don't you re-
member ? under the apple tree by the
fence, when we sang that hymn of praise.
And to-day, you've been, — what do you
call it ? an — am — ambulance, to bring
the sick soldier in, and now you are my
hpme once more, and my baby and I
are going to live here always, always, for I
love you better than any thing in the
world, next to mother and father and Ben,
and Gill and Lucy and Jack." Lucy
brought out the old comforter, and spread
it on one side of the cart floor, and put
Jack upon it with his playthings, and left
him with Sally ; and Gill and Ben got
some of the white beets, and were pressing
them and boiling them over the kitchen
'fire to see what sort of sugar they would
make. They told Sally ; but she preferred

MES. BETH' S REQUEST. 159

her housekeeping, and was too tired with
moving, she said. " She could taste the
sugar when it was ready."

Lucy was stuffing a turkey for dinner.
She had mixed the bread-crumbs and
water, and put in a little salt, and an egg,
and some sweet' marjorum, and pepper,
and summer-savory, and had plumped
out the creature with it, and sewed up the
openings with strong linen thread, and
put a link of sausages around the neck,
and laid it in the dripping-pan to roast.
The poor old man sat looking on, and
thinking of the time when he had a home
of his own, and a wife to get good cheer
for the table, and sons and daughters
round about the board when the viands
were smoking.

" All gone now," he muttered to him-
self, "all gone, — wife, and children, and
home."

160 THE OLD MARKET-CART.

But Lucy caught him up there in his
speech.

" The home is waiting," she said, " with
the wife and children in it, — waiting for
us all. What if the wife and children
have gone a little while before us ? To
be sure the heart may be sick with its
yearning after them ; tout it is a sickness
that is good for us, since it weans us from
the things of this world."

" You speak like my Mary," said the
old man. " She had always a holy ^sermon
on her lips."

" And you seem like my dear old father,
who used to dandle me upon his knee
when I was merry, and sing sweet, sacred
songs to me when the evening came on,
and I was content to be quiet for an hour,"
said Lucy. " He has gone, and my oldest
sister and my little brother, and the home
is all the brighter and more attractive lor

MRS. BETH'S REQUEST. 161

it. Gill and baby and I shall try to
follow."

So they talked together, while Gill and
Ben were absorbed in their sugar-making,
and Sally and Jack and Jennie kept house
in the old cart.

When Mr. Reed came from the city at
night, he had a great, square sheet, folded,
and sealed with a wafer, and addressed
simply : —

"GiLL THE SCOTCHMAN.

AT MR. REED'S."

It had been sent to the office, just before
the cars left, and all the letter said was, —

" Come for Tib.

MRS. BETH."

Of course, Gill was off betimes next

morning, taking the old soldier to the

Institution on his way. He went directly

to the pleasant room, under the French

11

162 THE OLD MARKET-CART.

roof, where the one window looked out
upon the sweep of houses and spires, and
up to the deep, fathomless sky. The plants
were fresh and green upon the stand, and
a new rose had just blossomed, filling the
room with its fragrance ; but the old mar-
ket-woman sat by the window with her
head upon her hand. She had lost the
bloom of the previous day, and looked
withered and weary.

" I'm tired of the market-place," she
said. " I think I shall be permitted to go
to my husband and my baby before long ;
but I could not go easily until you had
taken the cat. Thank you for coming so
soon."

Gill tried to persuade her that she was
only slightly ailing, and that she would be
out again by to-morrow ; but she held Tib
in one long, close embrace, and then put
her in the cradle and turned her back,

MRS. BETH' S REQUEST. 1G3

while Gill took the cat down stairs and
drove away.

She had nothing more to live for now.
Not that she had lived for this little an-
imal alone, — Mrs. Beth was gentle and
kind to every thing and every body ; but
her days were fulfilled, and God took her
up to be with himself and her beloved
ones, and somebody else sat in the stall by
the old broken lantern. Tib mourned for a
a little while, and seemed lost in the new
place, but soon grew content ; for she had
the same old cradle, and Gill and the mar-
ket-cart, which she had long been accus-
tomed to. She liked her new mistress,
and Ben and Jack, very much indeed.
Mr. and Mrs. Reed and Lucy petted her,
and Dobbin and Flash and Brindle al-
lowed her to get almost under their heels
and purr about them.

I think it was only the third day after
she came to the farm, that Gill called papa

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