FullReads

“‘I trust the boys are not deficient in obedience and helpfulness. At Sheppard’s age I had already begun to take the duties of a man upon my shoulders.'”

Sheppard giggled uncomfortably, and Dorothy laughed outright.

“Oh! if father only knew how good the boys are! Mother, thee must write and tell him about their ‘helpfulness and obedience’! Thee can tell him their appetites keep up pretty well; they manage to take their meals regularly, and they are always out of bed by eight o’clock, to help me hang up the milking-stool!”

“Just wait till thee gets in the mill-head again, Dorothy Barton! Thee needn’t come to me to help thee out!”

“Go on, mother! Don’t let the boys interrupt thee!”

“Well,” said Rachel, rousing herself, “where was I? Oh, ‘when I was Sheppard’s age’! Well, next come some allusions to the places where he has visited, and his spiritual exercises there. I don’t know that the boys are quite old enough to enter into this yet. Thee’d better read it thyself, Dorothy. I’m keeping all father’s letters for the boys to read, when they are old enough to appreciate them.”

“Well, I think thee might read us about where he’s been preachin’! We can understand a great deal more than thee thinks we can!” said Shep, in an injured voice. “Reuby, he can preach some himself! Thee ought to hear him, mother. It’s almost as good as meetin’!”

“I wondered how Reuby spent his time!” said Dorothy, and the mother hastened to interpose.

“Well, here’s a passage that may be interesting: ‘On sixth day attended the youths’ meeting here,–a pretty favored time on the whole. Joseph’ [that’s Joseph Carpenter; he mentions him aways back] ‘had good service in lively testimony, while I was calm and easy, without a word to say. At a meeting at Plumstead, we suffered long, but at length we felt relieved. The unfaithful were admonished, the youth invited, and the heavy-hearted encouraged. It was a heavenly time!’ Heretofore he seems to have been closed up with silence a good deal; but now the way opens continually for him to free himself. He’s been ‘much favored,’ he says, ‘of late.’ Reuby, what’s thee doing to thy brothers?” (Shep and Reuby, who had been persecuting Jimmy by pouring handfuls of corn down the neck of his jacket until he had taken refuge behind Dorothy’s chair, were now recriminating with corn-cobs on each other’s faces.) “Dorothy, can’t thee keep those boys quiet?”

“Did thee ever know them to be quiet?” said Dorothy, helping Jimmy to relieve himself of his corn.

“Well now, listen!” Rachel continued placidly, “‘Second day, 27th’ (of fifth month, he means, the letter’s been a long time coming), ‘attended their mid-week meeting at London Grove, where my tongue as it were clave to the roof of my mouth, while Hannah Husbands was much favored, and enabled to lift up her voice like the song of an angel'”–

“Who’s Hannah Husbands?” cried Dorothy.

“Thee don’t know her, dear. She was second cousin to thy father’s step-mother; the families were not congenial, I believe; but she has a great gift for the ministry.”

“I should think she’d better be at home with her children,–if she has any. Fancy thee, mother, going about to strange meetings, and lifting up thy voice.”

“Hush! hush! Dorothy! Thy tongue’s running away with thee. Consider the example thee’s setting the boys.”

“Thee’d better write to father about Dorothy, mother! Perhaps Hannah Husbands would like to know what she thinks about her preachin’!”

“Well now, be quiet, all of you. Here’s something about Dorothy: ‘I know that my dear daughter Dorothy is faithful and loving, albeit somewhat quick of speech, and restive under obligation. I would have thee remind her that an unwillingness to accept help from others argues a want of Christian Meekness. Entreat her, from me, not to conceal her needs from our neighbors, if so be she find her work oppressive. We know them to be of kindly intention, though not of our way of thinking in all particulars. Let her receive help from them, not as individuals, but as instruments of the Lord’s protection, which it were impiety and ingratitude to deny.'”