Mathews Joanna Hooe - Bessie among the Mountains стр 6.

"Do you make butter here?" asked Bessie.

"Indeed we do," said Fanny. "I am going to churn now, and if your mother will let you stay, you may see how I do it."

Permission was given, and the grown people went away, leaving Maggie and Bessie with the good-natured Fanny.

"Could you let us help you a little?" asked Bessie.

"Help me?" repeated Fanny, looking with a smile at the tiny figure she was just lifting upon a high stool, the only seat the dairy contained. "I guess you do not know what hard work churning is, do you?"

"Oh, we are accustomed to it," said Bessie. "We have a little churn at home, and we churn water, only it never makes butter."

"No, I suppose not," said Fanny. "And now would you like a drink after your walk?"

The children said they would, and taking down a dipper from the wall, Fanny gave them a drink of the rich, cold milk. After this she poured into the churn a quantity of thick, yellow cream, and putting on the cover, she told Bessie to stand upon the stool and go to work.

But Bessie found churning water in her own little churn at home, was a very different thing from trying to make the butter come with that heavy dasher; she could scarcely stir it, and in a moment she was quite satisfied. Maggie being stronger, pulled the dasher up and down a few times, and did not give up until she was red in the face, and her little hands were smarting with the hard work they were not used to.

The butter did not come by any means as quickly as the children expected, even when Fanny took hold; and, tired of waiting for it, they presently began to amuse themselves with sailing the acorn cups which they had picked up in their walk, in the stream which ran through the dairy. It was great fun to launch them at the upper end, and watch them as they floated down, now driven against a butter pot, now passing round it, and at last carried out at the farther end of the dairy.

By the time they had had enough of this amusement, the kind Fanny said the butter had come, and taking off the cover of the churn, she dashed in a quantity of cold water from that convenient little stream, having first lifted Maggie and Bessie upon the shelf, so that they might be high enough to look down into the churn. The butter which was floating about in tiny lumps, instantly collected together, and bringing a dish, Fanny scooped it out with a wooden ladle, and laid it in a rich, creamy mass. Then she threw in a little salt, and having worked and pressed it till it was free from every drop of water, she packed it away in a stone pot, and set that with the others in the running water. The children watched her with great interest until all was done, and were still standing by while she skimmed the cream from some of the many pans of milk, when Jane came to tell them their mamma wished them to come back to the house.

III.

A VISIT TO AUNT PATTY

MR. BRADFORD had brought from the city a famous rockaway, or carryall, large enough to hold all his own family and one or two persons beside; light but strong, and just the thing for these mountain roads. The first use to which it was to be put was to take them all for two visits that afternoon, one to Aunt Patty, the other to the homestead where Cousin Alexander lived. It was a bright, sunny afternoon, yet not too warm to be pleasant, the air was gay with the hum of bees and butterflies, the blue sky, dappled with fleecy clouds, was reflected in the clear water, mingled with the shadow of the rocks and trees; swallows skimmed over the surface of the lake, chasing the myriads of insects which hummed in the summer air; and as the carriage drove along the road which lay between the water and the great overhanging rocks, more than one fish was seen to dart swiftly away from the shady pool where he had been snugly lying till disturbed by the rumble of the wheels.

They did not go down the mountain by the road up which they had come the night before, but struck into another which led in an opposite direction. It ran through the forest for a long distance, and was not so steep, and more shady, which was no objection on this warm day.

"Stop at Todd's cottage, if you please, Mr. Porter," said Mr. Bradford, as they came out of the forest and saw before them a small farm-house, with half a dozen out-buildings about it.

"Who is Todd, papa?" asked Maggie.

But before Mr. Bradford could answer, all curiosity about Todd, or why they were to stop at his house, was set at rest. As they turned the corner they saw, standing in the porch of the farm-house, a woman with a baby in her arms; while hanging over the gate and whistling as he looked up the road, was a boy about the size of Fred. They were Mrs. Richards and Willie, no longer "blind Willie," the sightless little child whose sad face and patient, waiting manner, had so touched the hearts of all who looked upon him. A delicate looking boy Willie was still, though two weeks' stay in this fresh, pure, mountain air had done wonders for him. It was a pretty sight to see his delight in all about him, in the sunshine and clouds, in the blue sky and the bright water, in the grass and flowers, in birds and animals, and above all in the dear faces which had been shut out from his poor eyes for so many weary months.

A light flush mounted to his pale cheeks as he caught sight of his friends in the carriage, the good, kind friends to whom he owed so much; and calling to his mother, he sprang from the gate, as Mr. Porter drew in his horses, and hastened to open it.

"Never mind, Willie," said Mr. Bradford; "we cannot come in this afternoon. Some other day, perhaps; but now we only stopped to ask how you are coming on? How do you do, Mrs. Richards?"

"Bravely, sir," answered the smiling Mrs. Richards; "and as for Willie and the baby, they are improving wonderfully, thanks to your kindness."

"It is my little girls you must thank, Mrs. Richards," said Mr. Bradford.

"But we don't want to be thanked," said Bessie, quickly. "We quite liked to have you come up here, Mrs. Richards, and we felt very much thankful ourselves when Uncle Ruthven gave us the money to send you."

"Willie," said Maggie, "do you enjoy being disblinded just as much as you did at first?"

"Oh, yes," answered Willie, laughing at Maggie's new word; "and everything looks so much nicer than it did before I was blind. Somehow, I think the world did grow prettier while I could not see it, though mother says it only seems so to me."

"Ah, that is often the way, Willie," said Mr. Bradford. "God sometimes has to teach us the worth of the blessings He has given us by taking them from us."

After a little more talk with Willie and his mother, they bade good-by; kind Mr. Porter first saying he would send down for Willie some day and let him come up to his place.

They drove on till they came to the more open country, and saw before them Aunt Patty's house, and beyond that, the grand old homestead of which they had heard so much, and of which papa was so fond.

Aunt Patty's home was a pretty, snug cottage on the side of a hill; its front covered with a beautiful trumpet creeper, which went climbing up to the very top of the many-cornered old chimney, and wreathing itself over the little porch and the bow window of the sitting-room, until the house looked like a quiet green nest. A great white cat peeped out from behind the geraniums which filled the window; a greyhound lay upon the doormat, and beneath and about the porch hung several bird-cages, containing half a dozen canaries and two mocking-birds, while a donkey and a tame goat looked, the one over, the other between the bars of the fence which divided their little pasture ground from the neat garden. For Aunt Patty was very fond of dumb pets, and had collected about her a number, each one of which knew her voice, and would come at her call; and she was never sharp and short with them as she sometimes was with her own fellow creatures, for they never, even by accident, gave her offence.