15th.—I hope you are interested, dear Mamma, in Bessy Grimley’s history.
Franklin is returned—he came about a week after his letter; poor Bessy was very anxious, for the weather was stormy, and she could not hinder herself from being frightened at the thoughts of the great ocean he had to cross. We went again to see her, and I tried to cheer her, by telling her I had lately come a much longer voyage. My aunt accompanied us, and was pleased with the cottage and its inhabitants; she went to visit the poor old decrepit woman, and found her bed made up comfortably, and both that and the room looking very tidy and clean. The window was open, and a rose tree covered with flowers hung over it. My poor daughter, said the old woman, planted that rose-tree in her last illness, and Bessy has nursed both it and me; and she trims it and trains it in such a manner, that the flowery branches hang where I can see them, because she knows how much I love the tree.
My aunt observed a little shelf of books in one corner, and asked if Bessy could read, “Oh! yes, ma’am—I wonder the old man did not tell you that, for many a time she has comforted us both, and indeed, often makes me feel less pain, by reading to us. I taught her myself, when she was a little creature, and I am sure I often wonder how any one can object to the poor having the blessing of education. Why, it would do your heart good, Ma’am, to hear her read the Bible, she reads it with such piety—or a prayer or two, often out of her prayer book. We have a few little stories too, that we like to hear again and again. The Blind Farmer—and the History of Wilcocks—and a pretty tale called Simple Susan—in short, madam, though I am always a suffering, poor creature, and though we sometimes are supperless, we are still happy, and it is all owing to that grateful good Bessy.”
But I must tell you, Mamma, about Franklin. He has really given up a great deal for her sake: he might have been in a much richer way had he remained in America; but then, he says, what good would it all have been to him away from his Bessy! They are to be married next week; and my aunt, and all of us, are preparing different articles of dress or furniture, that may be useful presents to them. My uncle suggested some little alterations in the arrangement of the house, so as to make room, at present, for the Franklins; and he offered to assist them next spring in making it still more comfortable.
There is a farm to be let—not very good ground, but well situated, and about half way between Fernhurst and the old man’s cottage. My uncle has hopes of procuring it for the Franklins; and I am sure it will be an advantage to them to be near my uncle, his advice is so useful, and he knows so much about every thing.
Some of the land is like forest ground, and has neither been fenced nor drained; but Franklin says he will gradually bring it into cultivation. I am in hopes I shall have many a pleasant walk there with my uncle; and then I shall have a good opportunity of seeing the whole process of farming.
How benevolent my uncle and aunt are! they are as much interested about Bessy as if they had always known her; and my uncle’s manner is so kind and so cheerful, that he raises the spirits of the poor old couple whenever they see him.
16th.—My cousins are such gardeners, particularly Mary and Wentworth, that they have made me wish to become one too. Caroline is not so fond of gardening as the others, though she has some very pretty flowers, and labours a good deal. She has given a large portion of her garden to little Frederick, who is her particular charge. He calls himself her little boy, and he is so indeed, for she teaches him most of what he learns, reads with him, and makes herself quite his companion.
When we were gathering a few still lingering roses to-day in Mary’s garden, I said that I began to think that I should like to manage a little garden as well as they did.
“Huzza!” exclaimed Wentworth and Frederick; “I knew she would become one of us at last.”