Elsie and Her Loved Ones Read online

  CHAPTER XI

  IT was now a little past the children’s bedtime, so they badegood-night, and went within doors. Grace and Harold and Mr. Lelandwithdrew from the porch also, and the captain and Lucilla had it tothemselves. They paced back and forth, arm in arm, conversing in rathersubdued tones.

  “You heard from Chester to-day?” he said inquiringly.

  “Yes, sir; such a bright, cheerful letter. He is very well, prosperingwith his business, and enjoying himself morning and evenings at Ion,where they are most kindly insistent on entertaining him until myreturn. He has been out to Sunnyside and reports that everything is infine order there—indoors and out. He says he will be delighted to seehis wife when she returns, but hopes she will stay in the north untilthe weather is cooler.”

  “That is all very satisfactory,” said her father. “I am glad you haveso kind and affectionate a husband, and I hope to be able to return youto him in a very few weeks.”

  “I am glad of that, since the return will not separate me, to any greatextent, from the dear father who does so much to make my life brightand happy,” she said, with a sweet and loving smile up into his face.“Oh, father, how much easier and happier life seems to be to us thanit was to those poor fellows who fought the battles of the Revolutionthrough such poverty and suffering. It makes my heart ache to read andto think of the bleeding of their bare feet on the snow as they marchedover it, and to know that they were in rags and sometimes had little ornothing to eat.”

  “Yes,” said her father, “I feel very much as you do about it. I wish Iknew they were all Christians, therefore happy in heaven now.”

  “So do I, father,” she sighed, “but it seems to me one of the verydreadful things about war is its sending so many to death with no timefor preparation, and probably in the heat of passion with their foes.”

  “That is true,” he said. “War is a dreadful thing; always very wickedon one side, if not on both. The Revolutionary War was right andcommendable on the side of our forbears—resisting tyranny as theywere—and we, their descendants, are reaping from it the rich fruit offreedom.”

  “And it is rich fruit!” exclaimed Lucilla in joyous tones.

  “Land where my fathers died, Land of the pilgrim’s pride, From every mountain side Let Freedom ring.”

  “Sounds quite like Fourth of July, sis,” laughed a manly voice behindher, and turning she found Max standing there.

  “Will three be as good company as two?” he asked, in the same livelytone in which he had spoken before.

  “Better,” replied their father; “at least in this instance; and theporch is wide enough for three to walk abreast.”

  “And it won’t hurt Lu to take one of my arms as well as yours, sir,”said Max, offering it.

  “Well, I will; it isn’t every day now that I get the chance,” sheresponded, slipping her hand into it. “Now I think we will have a finepromenade.”

  “What report can you give of wife and daughter at the present moment,Max?” asked the captain.

  “Oh, they are doing finely. Eva says she feels quite well enough to beup and about if that tyrannical doctor didn’t forbid it. And our babyis good as gold—and a great deal more valuable,” he added, with a happylaugh.

  “She’s prettier than gold this one of her aunts thinks,” laughedLucilla. “And what a treasure she will be in Sunnyside, our sweet,pretty home.”

  “Yes, I hope so. It is very good of you to give her such a royalwelcome.”

  “Ah, if only her father could be with us all the time!” sighed Lucilla.

  “Perhaps in that case his companionship might, at times, growwearisome,” laughed Max. “‘Blessings brighten as they take theirflight,’ and perhaps it may be so with brothers and husbands.”

  “A remark I should advise you not to make in Eva’s hearing,” shereturned in mirthful tones.

  “Ah, she would know just how to appreciate it,” said Max. Then, turningto their father, “I was much interested in your account of Morgan,sir,” he said. “He was a grand man and did a great deal to win theindependence of these United States, now the greatest, grandest countrythe sun shines upon.”

  “He did, indeed,” the captain said emphatically, “and deserves to beremembered with love and gratitude. He was a very successful leader inthose times of our country’s sore distress; and he could not have beenhad not God given him wisdom and skill in answer to prayer. My son, Ihope you will follow his example in that.”

  “Such is my purpose, my dear father, and has been my practice thusfar,” Max returned with emotion. “Trusting in God it seems to me is theonly thing that can enable one to go calmly and composedly to the postof duty when that lies where the messengers of wounds and death areflying thick and fast.”

  “Yes, I think so,” assented the captain. “Washington, our great andsuccessful commander-in-chief, was a man of prayer—raised up, I have nodoubt, by a kind Providence, for the work that he did. And there wereother praying men among our leaders. It was a fearful struggle, but Godhelped us and enabled us to become the free, strong nation that we are.”

  “Oh, how thankful we ought to be!” exclaimed Lucilla. “It seems to meit was a very ridiculous idea that this great, big country should begoverned by that little one away across the ocean; especially as shewanted to be so tyrannical; for it is certainly true that ‘taxationwithout representation is tyranny.’”

  “Yes,” said Max. “An Englishman, arguing with me the other day aboutit, said it was so small a tax that the colonists were decidedlyfoolish to make such a fuss and go to war to avoid it. I told him itwas principle which made them so determined; because if they allowedthe English Parliament to impose a small tax without the consent of thecolonies, they might—and would be very likely to—go on and levy otherand much heavier ones. The colonists were a free-born people, and meantto remain free; preferring even death to slavery.”

  “Yes, indeed!” exclaimed Lucilla; “and that last word of yours, Max,reminds me that George III. highly approved of the slave trade andwanted it carried on; and it seems as if he was by no means averse toenslaving the whites of this country.”

  “Quite desirous to do so; even to the setting of the savages to thebutchering of women and children,” added Max. “But all that being solong in the past, he in his grave, and our liberties secure, it ishardly worth while now to rake up the faults and failings of the poor,crazy old king.”

  “His granddaughter has proved a much better and wiser sovereign,” saidLucilla. “Women do sometimes do better than men.”

  “At some things-things not requiring much physical strength, forexample,” the captain said, with an amused glance down into hisdaughter’s face.

  “Yes, father, it is certainly true that men excel us in physicalstrength; but is that any reason why women should be paid less fortheir work and taxed quite as heavily on their property—if they happento have any?” she concluded with a laugh.

  “No, I think not,” was his smiling rejoinder. “Ah, what is wrong, Iwonder!” as at that instant the man in charge of the Dolphin was seencoming with swift strides up from the wharf toward the house. Theystood still, watching him in silence till he drew near enough forspeech; then the captain asked, “What is it, Mr. Bailey?”

  “Oh, Captain Raymond, I have a dreadful piece of news for you,” was thereply, in a tone that spoke of disturbed feeling; “news from Buffalothat President McKinley has been shot.”

  “Shot intentionally? murdered?” asked the captain, in tones that spokeastonishment and horror.

  “Yes, sir; the work of an anarchist of unpronounceable name. If Ihad my way anarchists should be promptly expelled from this land andforever excluded from it.”

  “Is McKinley dead?” asked Max.

  “No; but the wound is supposed to be mortal; noted surgeons areattending him but have hardly a hope of being able to save his life.”

  “And what have they done with his murderer?” asked Max. “Torn him limbfrom limb?”


  “That’s what would have been done by the crowd in building and street,if the police hadn’t been able to keep them off till they could gethim into prison.”

  “It was what he deserved,” said Max hotly and with emotion; “but thepolice did their duty; every criminal has a right to trial by judge andjury.”

  The voices of those on the porch had been somewhat raised byexcitement, attracting the attention of those of the family who werewithin doors, and bringing them out to learn what was going on. Therewere questions and answers, expressions of grief and horror and queriesas to what had and would be done with the assassin, what hope mightbe entertained of the President’s recovery, and should he die, wouldRoosevelt make a good and competent successor?—that last query comingfrom the ladies. The gentlemen at once expressed the opinion that hewould, but also the hope that McKinley would be spared and restored tohealth and strength.