MRS. JEWETT AND HER NEIGHBORS.
It was afternoon of the first day of the week, a little after two o'clock. Mrs. Jewett was tired, unusually so, though she was always tired by the time the washings were finished, but to-day more so, owing, no doubt, to the excitement of the evening before, when, for long hours, together with her husband and the two older girls, she had upon her knees, in penitence and tears, sought pardon for past remissnesses, and help for future exigencies at the throne of grace; and together they had all been rewarded by the entering in to each humbled heart the sweet peace that always accompanies the sense of full and free pardon. With this had come also the spirit of true confession one to another, as well as to God. Ruth and Rachel had been first to confess to their parents many instances of unfaithfulness to them and to their younger brothers and sisters, that much astonished both father and mother, so carefully had the sins been hidden from human eyes, and these confessions made all to understand as never before, that "the heart is deceitful above all things and desperately wicked;" and to ask, "Who can know it?" with an amazement new to each, and only equaled by the desire to have God "search their hearts, and try them," and show them as fast as they could bear, the evil they contained. Then both father and mother remembered wherein they had been guilty of impatience; of instances of almost deception toward not Ruth and Rachel alone, but all of the children; humble confession was made, and their souls drawn into closer communion with each other than ever before. It was a scene never before witnessed in James Jewett's home. In everything almost, so clearly shone the sunshine of the enlightening Spirit of God, each saw wherein some mistake or failure had been made as the direct result of either conscious or unconscious sin, showing the alarming state of apathy into which all had been betrayed. Sweeter concourse had never been held by that really amiable family than was held that night, after confessions had been made by which the consciences of each had been cleared as concerned one another; and no note was taken of the flight of time till the clock struck one solemn note. "One o'clock, can it be!" they exclaimed, with, as it were, one breath. "To bed we must all go," the father said, "for we have always much to do on the morrow, and I have some special work to do with some of my neighbors." "And so have I," sighed Mrs. Jewett; "and may the strength of Christ be ours to work with, that if possible we may take up the stumbling-blocks our selfishness has cast in our neighbors' way." Now to go back to the beginning of my story: Mrs. Jewett was tired; the washing being finished, the usual tidying up of kitchen and wash-room, together with the after-dinner work, remained to be done, but the girls had insisted that their mother should have no share in any of it, but instead, should go away and take the rest they saw she stood in so much need of. In her heart she had purposed going over to Mrs. Adkins in the afternoon, but both on her own account, and the fear she might be gone away to her mother's, where she often did go on Sunday afternoons, she changed her plan. Baby James was fast asleep, and Mrs. Jewett thankfully took a large shawl and covered herself up on the lounge in the cozy sitting-room, and was lost in a doze that came to the instant relief of the tired nerves and senses, almost the moment she lay down. But not long did she sleep when there came a timid rap on the door, just loud enough to disturb the sense of hearing, and she dreamed she heard her Saviour say to her personally, "Behold I stand at the door and knock." Rap, rap, rap, rap! louder than before, causing the sleeper to start up in momentary alarm. Only twenty-four hours before, under similar circumstances, the thought of our good sister would have been, "Oh dear, why couldn't everybody have stayed away and given me a chance to rest;" but now, who shall say it was not "the Comforter," even the Holy Ghost, performing its office, that brought on the instant this word to her remembrance: "Thy servants are ready to do whatsoever my Lord the King shall appoint;" and, calm and composed, and with the sweet Spirit of Christ's gentleness, she opened the door to admit the very neighbor she had had most in mind all day." "I am very glad to see you, Mrs. Adkins," she said, clasping her hand with unusual warmth. "Are you truly glad, Mrs. Jewett? I was afraid you would wish in your heart that I had stayed at home with my baby, but I just couldn't, I was so lonesome and discouraged; everything has gone wrong with me for a week, and I almost always get cheered up and righted someway by a good visit with you, so you will forgive me for coming again so soon." The accent on the word "almost" sent a pang of remorse and shame quivering its way through Mrs. Jewett's heart, for she had been painfully conscious of a time, only the Friday before, when Mrs. Adkins came over with some stitching to do on her machine (the poor woman had none, with her family of nine), and she had, as it now seemed to her, needlessly refused her the privilege of coming any more, on the plea that her machine was old, and so hard to keep in good order, and if she loaned it to one she must to another, etc., etc., when she knew no other neighbor who had not a machine of their own. "If the case is so critical as you represent, and the panacea really lies with me, I would be heartless to refuse forgiveness if there was a bit of room for any, which there is not. How warm you are, carrying that big baby so far; sit down here by the window, and I will bring you a glass of water." While she was gone, Mrs. Adkins took a good look around the neat sitting-room. She had just finished the survey when Mrs. Jewett returned with Maud, who took the baby by force and carried him off to the kitchen, where he loved best to be, with the children. "How nice everything is at your house! I don't think it is so much wonder after all that you are always so good-natured. I am sure you can't have half to try you that I do; your floors are all carpeted, unless it is your kitchen, and you have no scrubbing to do only there, and that floor is painted. Then all your folks seem to feel just such an interest in keeping things nice, while I may clean up ever so good every day after the children get off to school, and it will be just as mussy and crazy as ever by bed-time. What did you pay for this carpet? If I may ask." "I paid only for the weaving and the warp; we sewed the rags, all hands of us; even the boys lent a hand. We had some grand times with the making of this carpet, running races to see who could wind the heaviest ball. The boys sewed them nearly all on the sewing machine; David would run the machine, and John would put the rags together just ready to slip under the needle and hand them to him. Sometimes we would save those that did not do quite so well sewed by machine and do them with our needles, the boys helping at that, too; and at such times Mr. Jewett would read aloud to us from the Review and Herald, something good for us all. Sometimes again we would choose subjects to converse on, and the children would read up for several days so as to be able to talk intelligently upon the topic." "Who ever heard of such a thing! No wonder your girls are so knowing for their age. I would like to hear Mr. Adkins read aloud once. He eats his supper, lies down on a couple of chairs, and goes to sleep; and if the children talk, or dare to laugh and play, or do anything that disturbs him, he growls at me for not keeping them quiet. I just hate evenings!" And the woman sighed, feeling in her heart that she was a most abused wife. "Does not your husband like to read?" "He used to very much, when we were first married, but he says the children make such a clatter of feet and rattle of tongues now, that there is no comfort trying to read or think; but I can't keep them still, and he seldom tries. How do you manage to keep yours so quiet, Mrs. Jewett?" "They are not always quiet, Mrs. Adkins, I can assure you. They have great romps with their father, occasionally, great play visits with each other, and many a game such as children the world over delight in; but in return for these privileges they understand that they are to render to us implicit237obedience; and that when we wish quiet, they must yield gracefully." Again the sigh, as Mrs. Adkins said: "Well, we have neither of us the slightest knack with children. They do about as they please, for all of me, and John never minds them much unless they disturb him; but I do not think any of my children, unless it is George, care for reading, or anything but play." Mrs. Jewett quietly smiled, and, rising, took from the book-case a small book, with pretty green and gold binding, saying: "I want you to try reading this book to them yourself. A few chapters will prove to you whether there is anything in the experiment, and if so, George can read while you work and your husband sleeps. I feel sure that the children will keep quiet to listen." "I am sure you are kind, but I almost know I shall have to stop every half minute to scold some of them." Many griefs did the visitor pour into the ears of her patient auditor, who listened quietly, suggesting remedies wherever there was the slightest probability of their ever being tried, praying all the while that God would help her to be of use to the neighbor she loved and respected, in bringing about a more pleasant state of affairs in her home. Among other trials, was the one that John never would eat salt-rising bread or soda biscuit, if he could help it—would rather live on potatoes and corn-bread, and that he was always telling about the good bread his mother used to make. Mrs. Jewett proposed giving her some fresh hop yeast, and after telling her as carefully and particularly as she could just how to manage it from beginning to end, she offered to write the directions also, which offer was accepted by Mrs. Adkins with many doubts as to her being able to profit thereby, but with a resolve "to try my very best to please John once in his life, if it is a possible thing." From where the two ladies sat they could hear two of the girls, Maud and Ella, aged respectively nine and eleven years, talking to each other. "Come, Maud, now you have got the baby to sleep, take him in to his mother; for we won't get the dishes done by the time the girls get done their scrubbing." "All right, Ella, it's your turn to be mother and wash, and mine to be child and wipe, and I will keep up with you, see if I don't—if you wash them clean. They are all stuck up and dried on, it's been so long since dinner, and I am glad it is your turn to wash them to-day. No, I don't; that would not be 'preferring one another in love,' would it? I'll wash if you want me to. Do you?" "Do hear that child!" exclaimed Mrs. Adkins, in a low voice, "that beats me." At that moment Maud came in with Mrs. Adkins's baby soundly sleeping. In a minute he was snugly transferred to the lounge, and Maud was back, saying: "I really will wash, if you will let me, Ella, for I do mean to always prefer you to myself. Is not that what 'esteeming others better than themselves' means?" "I guess so, Maud, but I am the oldest, and must esteem you first, so I'll wash them if they are stuck on; and now, my dear little daughter," assuming a dignified tone of voice, "mamma wants you to wipe everything so nice and dry; rub it hard till it shines, every single dish, so grandma's eyes will shine when she sees them, 'cause they'll be so bright. There, that looks right. Oh, but I know you will make just the nicest housekeeper when you get married and keep house! Won't I be proud to visit my daughter then?" "If I ever get married and keep house, I will have beat-up sugar and eggs (just ready for custard pie, you know), on the table for sauce every single meal, company or not, cause I like it so awful well. O mamma, mamma Ella! I would be so ashamed if I were you! Here's a plate with the potato not all washed off." "Well, your mamma is ashamed of that, and of having her little daughter say 'awful well.' Don't you remember your grandpa Jewett told you that it was not right to use the word awful as you do?" "Well, how can I remember it all at once? I think I am doing awful—no, I mean very well. That is the first time to-day that I have forgotten and said it." "So you are! Mamma is proud of her little girl because she tries, and 'if at first you don't succeed, then try, try again.' Did you ever see anything stick so aw—very hard? I most said it myself;" and here the girls laughed to think that Ella came near being caught in the same old habit. Thus with childish chat the dishes were washed quickly, and the task enjoyed by them almost as much as a game of play. "Who ever heard the like of your girls? I never can get mine to wash up the dishes for me without a fuss, and yours seem to enjoy it." "I think they do of late. Our family is so large, with the hired men, that I am obliged to have the children do a great many things. Especially do I find this young man a great hindrance to his mother's always being around the house (this as James Jr. awoke and cried to be taken from his crib); and since I hit upon the plan of their taking turns playing at mother and child, they seldom object to dish-washing." This was a new idea to Mrs. Adkins, and she "made a note of it," determining to turn over several new leaves in her own home, beginning as soon as she got there. Later on Ella and Maud came in and stood by their mother while she was talking, and at the first place for an interruption Maud asked:— "Mother, may Ella and I get supper all alone to-night? Please let us." "I shall be glad to have you, but I think there is not bread enough." "Then shall we make some? But what shall it be? graham gems, whole-wheat flour biscuit? or what?" "Make biscuit; and warm some potatoes, and get any kind of fruit you like." Mrs. Adkins was astonished, but said nothing until, when seated at the table, she had opportunity to observe more fully the evidences of the neatness and skill displayed by the two children, whose faces were still rosy as pinks with the warmth of the kitchen and the excitement of "doing it all alone for company." "You don't mean that those children did all this themselves? made these biscuits too? How in the world did you ever teach them?" "By letting them make play of it at first; working with them, and playing they were educating themselves to teach in a cooking-school. I have had to invent many ways to make necessary work seem play to my girls, who otherwise would not have had many play spells some days throughout the past year." "Well, I feel as if this had been a day worth a good deal to me, and I am going to try your plans a little; but I have no ingenuity myself, and no patience, and little courage to believe that I shall meet with success. However, I cannot but sense the difference in endeavoring to live 'all to the honor and glory of God,' as you do, and teach your children; while we live—I am sure I do not know what for, unless it is, as I sometimes think, just because we do live, and only because we are afraid to die." On her way home with a supply of yeast, the green-covered book, and a whole bundle of newly-made resolutions, she contrasted over and over the home life of her neighbor with her own. How she succeeded in carrying out the new resolutions may sometime be the subject of another chapter. *