The Young Ship Builders of Elm Island 12

The Young Ship Builders of Elm Island 12

“I feel that I must get over in the pen, Mrs. Rhines; the gander seems

perfectly docile.”

 

“Don’t, Mr. Goodhue, I beg of you; he is very savage, I assure you.”

 

He, however, persisted in getting into the pen, despite her entreaties.

 

“Only observe how affectionate and quiet he has become in captivity;

intercourse with human beings has doubtless exerted an ameliorating

influence upon his naturally savage nature: you will notice, Mrs.

Rhines, that he does not open his mouth and siss, as even the tame

ganders will do; indeed, I have always thought the study of natural

history a most delightful and fascinating recreation: it is, in one

sense, a revelation.”

 

As we have before observed, suspenders were not worn in those days; and

any exertion often caused the breeches to work down, and the waistcoat

to work up, so as to render the linen visible between them.

 

[Illustration: PARSON GOODHUE AND THE WILD GANDER. Page 105.]

 

In walking over the island and climbing the fence, the good man had so

exerted himself, that a large fold of shirt appeared, and hung over the

waistband. The gander came up to him, put his head very gently against

him, took hold of it, and, while the attention of the minister was

directed to the goslings and the tame goose, filled his mouth with the

cloth; at length, having with the utmost gentleness obtained a firm

hold, the gander suddenly spread his great wings and began to thrash

the minister about the head and face, with the force of so many flails.

His cocked hat was knocked off in an instant; the wig followed suit.

Blinded and confused, he jumped back, falling prostrate upon his back:

he was now at the mercy of his antagonist, who, with the knobs of horn

on his wings, inflicted blows upon his face and bare scalp, that drew

blood at every stroke, the wild goose seconding the efforts of her mate

by viciously nipping his legs and hands.

 

His screams were heard by Sally, who, deceived by the apparent good

nature of the gander, had gone to the house to see to the baby. She

threw her shawl over the gander’s wings, and seizing him by the neck,

choked him off, and thrust him into the pen made for the tame goose to

sit in, then assisted the parson to rise.

 

He was indeed in a sorry plight; the blood was streaming from his face

and scalp, his clothing was soiled by the impurities of the yard, his

face covered with straw and feathers which the wings of the gander had

flung over him, and that stuck in the blood. The wild goose, with that

strong, sharp bill, with which they will pull up eel-grass by the

roots, had torn holes in the black silk stockings, and even torn the

skin beneath.

 

Sally was affected to tears by this wholesale desecration of the

person of one she had been accustomed from infancy to look up to with

reverence. The wig, which had been the great object of her veneration,

and the cocked hat were trampled under foot by the parson in his first

attempts to escape. This, indeed, was no trifling matter, as the wig

could only be dressed and curled once a year; and for this it was

necessary to go to Boston, and it took a professional hairdresser a

whole day.

 

The good man, however, was much less disturbed than Sally, and after

he had been put to rights by her and Sally Merrithew, took quite a

cheerful view of the matter, affirming, that though Paul passed through

many perils, he much doubted whether he had ever been in peril by a

wild gander.

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER VII.

 

CHARLIE GETS NEW IDEAS WHILE IN BOSTON.

 

 

WHEN Ben returned, he was no less concerned than Sally, and instantly

proceeded to administer consolation in a more practical form, by

proposing that he should take passage with his father and the boys to

Boston, have the wig dressed, and procure an entire new suit, and he

would pay the bills.

 

But the good man’s troubles were not ended yet. The barbers were

accustomed, when they dressed wigs, to put them on blocks of wood, made

in the form of a head. It so happened that, there being a great deal of

work in the barber’s shop, all the blocks were in use. The barber, for

want of a block, clapped the wig on the head of his negro apprentice

to dress it. A band of music came along, and the negro, jumping up,

ran out to listen. He went by a carriage-maker’s shop, when a man, who

was at work painting wheels, struck with the ludicrous appearance of a

negro with a snow-white wig, poured a whole paper of lampblack on his

head. This finished up the wig. But Captain Rhines, after laughing till

the tears ran down his cheeks, procured another.

 

Charlie spent every leisure moment, while in Boston, in the ship-yards

and boat-builders’ shops.

 

Mr. Welch, who had become thoroughly acquainted with Charlie while

visiting Elm Island, invited him and Fred to come with Captain Rhines

to dinner. He soon wormed out of Charlie all he had in view respecting

Fred, which caused him to become interested in the boy, and he gave

him much good advice in respect to business, concluding his remarks by

telling him he would buy all the fish he could cure, and give him the

highest market prices, according to quality.

 

Mr. Welch invited, and insisted on, Captain Rhines coming to tea, as he

had some private matters he wished to talk over with him.

 

“My old friend,” said the merchant, deeply moved, taking both the

captain’s hands in his the moment they were alone, “my oldest son,

who bears my name,--a name which I have ever striven to connect with

everything good and honorable,--is little better than a drunkard. He is

both indolent and vicious. His conduct has broken my heart, and is fast

bringing my gray hairs with sorrow to the grave.”

 

Captain Rhines, not knowing how to reply, remained silent; but the

pressure of the hand, and the tears that gathered in his eyes,

attested, beyond the power of words, his sympathy.

 

“He is,” continued the parent, “of large business capacity, attractive

in his manners, and makes friends, though of violent temper when

aroused.”

 

“Why don’t you send him to sea? Let him see the hard side of life, come

to misery, and learn to submit.”

 

“I would, but it would kill his mother. She thinks his temper is so

violent he would kill some one, or be killed himself.”

 

“Nonsense! begging your pardon. He may be very violent with you or his

mother; but let the mate of a vessel get afoul of him, and he would

knuckle fast enough. I wish I was going to sea now; I’d engage to bring

him to his bearings, and not hurt him, either.”

 

“His mother would never consent to his going to sea. But I’ll tell you

what I’ve been thinking of ever since I was at Elm Island. That is a

place free from temptation. He resembles me in many things. Like me, he

is extravagantly fond of gunning and fishing, and has keen appreciation

of everything beautiful in nature. I thought, if he could spend a

summer in that beautiful spot,--he likes you and Ben; he couldn’t help

liking Charlie and Sally,--perhaps it might aid him to rally, for I

think of late he has made some effort in that direction. His mother has

often spoken of it, and says she would not be afraid to have him go to

Elm Island.”

 

“She need be under no apprehension of his hurting Ben, and Ben

certainly won’t hurt him.”

 

“It is not altogether in respect to Elm Island that I wished to speak.

But while I was there, I became acquainted with Mr. Murch--Uncle Isaac,

as everybody there calls him. He is certainly a most remarkable man. I

don’t know what it is, but there’s something about him impresses and

influences one in spite of himself. I couldn’t help feeling, while I

was talking with him, that I wanted him to have a good opinion of me,

and was vexed with myself for wishing that I knew what he thought of

me.”

 

“Let me tell you, my friend, you couldn’t have a greater compliment

than Isaac’s good opinion.”

 

“But the most remarkable thing is the liking that your John and

Charlie, and, as far as I could see, every other boy, seems to have

for him, and the influence he has over them. Why, John told me--and

Charlie says the same--that this young Williams was a bad, mischievous

boy, so bad that they were determined not to play with him, and would

have given him up had it not been for Mr. Murch. Now, if he can work

such miracles, why, if my poor boy was down there, couldn’t he, with

God’s help and blessing, do something for him?”

 

“It is quite a different case. These were boys; your son is--”

 

“Twenty-two next March.”

 

“They were on the same level with Isaac. Your son is educated, and

Isaac would seem like an old codger to an educated man.”

 

“He wouldn’t hold to that opinion long when he came to be acquainted

with him. It is too late now for this year. But if you think Benjamin

would be willing,--I should expect to pay his way, of course,--I should

like to try it, if I could get him to go.”

 

“Anything that I or Ben can do, we will be glad to. Our hearts and

homes are open to you.”

 

“You are very kind, and I will think more about it; there’s time

enough. Now, my dear friend, permit me to say a word to you. I am

considerably older than yourself. Our friendship is of long standing.

It dates back to the year you was twenty-one, and came to Boston mate

of the first vessel I ever owned any part of. We ought by this time to

_know_ each other as well as we _love_ each other. I feel as if I must

tell you there is but one thing you lack. Do, my old friend, give your

heart to God. Let us be one in feeling and sympathies here, as we are

in every other respect. In this bitter trial which has come upon me, it

has been my stay and comfort. If I could not have cast my burden on the

bosom of the Savior, I should have gone mad. There are sorrows to which

wealth can offer no alleviation, but there are none beyond the aid of

divine grace.”Captain Rhines was touched to the very heart, and most of all by the noble spirit manifested by his friend, who, when crushed to the earth by individual grief, turned from his own sorrows to seek his good.