REUBEN TRACY'S VACATION TRIPS.
BY ELIZABETH PORTER GOULD.
"Mamma, where is the old Witch House? I met on the street this morning Johnnie Evans and his mother, who came way down from Boston just to see that, and Witch Hill, and some other places here in Salem that they had been reading about together this vacation. Why, I haven't seen these things, and I have lived here all my life. And they said, too, that they were going to find the house where Hawthorne was born. Who was he, mamma? I think Johnnie said that the house was on Union Street. Can't I go there, too? I am tired of playing out in the street all the time. I want to go somewhere and see something."
So said Reuben Tracy to his mother, as he came into the house from his play one day about the middle of his long summer vacation. His little eyes had just been opened to the fact that there was something in old Salem which made her an object of interest to outsiders; and, if so, he wanted to see it. As his mother listened to him, her eyes were opened, too, to her want of interest, through which her boy should have been obliged to ask this of her, rather than that she should have guided him into this pleasant path to historic knowledge. But she determined that this should not happen again. The vacation was only half through, and there was yet time to do much in this direction. Her boy should not spend so much time in idle play in the streets. She would begin that very afternoon and read to him some stories of local history, and impress upon his little mind, as Mrs. Evans was doing with her boy, by visiting with him all that she could of the places mentioned. She herself had not seen Hawthorne's birthplace; she would learn more about him and his work, so as to tell Reuben, and then they would visit the place together; after which they would take a trip to Concord and see where he was buried, and also the places where he had lived, which, she had heard, were so charming. She could then tell her boy of Emerson and Thoreau; and, through a sight of the place where the first battle of the Revolution was fought, she could lead him willingly into the study of history.
Thus Mrs. Tracy planned with herself. She had suddenly become converted to a knowledge of her larger duty in the training of her child—her only child now; for, nearly two years before, death had claimed, in one week, her two other children, one older and one younger than Reuben; and since then she had fallen into a sad, listless state of mind which she found hard to get out of. She was an unusually good mother in the ordinary sense of the word, since she was careful to have her boy well-fed, well-clothed, and well-behaved; but now she saw more than that was required of her.
The good resolution of Mrs. Tracy became so fruitful, that another week's time found Reuben and herself acquainted with the points of interest which Johnnie Evans had mentioned, and several more beside. Mrs. Tracy had accompanied these visits with much interesting information, which Reuben had enjoyed greatly. Such success led her to provide something new for the following week. Now, she herself had never seen the old town of Marblehead,—only four miles from Salem,—although of late she had been to Marblehead Neck to see a sister who was boarding there for the summer. So with an eye to visiting the old town, she spent an hour each day, for several days, reading and talking with Reuben on the history and legends of Marblehead; and, through the guidance of Drake's New England Coast, learning what now remained there as mementos of the past. Then, after having invited two of Reuben's little playfellows to accompany them, they started, one bright morning, to drive over by themselves. As they passed up Washington Street in the old town, Reuben's eyes were looking for the Lee mansion, which he said was now used for a bank, and which, with its furniture, cost its builder, Colonel Lee, fifty thousand dollars. They found it, with its date of 1768 over the door, and soon were in the main hall, where was hanging the same panel paper which was put on when the house was built. They noticed the curious carving of the balusters, as well as of a front room, which was wainscoted from floor to ceiling; they wished that it had never been used for a bank, but that it was still the old mansion as it used to be; for then they could see, among other things, the paintings hanging on the walls, of Colonel Lee and his wife, which Reuben said were eight feet long and five feet wide, and painted by a man named Copley. His mother smiled when she heard him add, with all the spirit of Young America: "And he painted them both for one hundred and twenty-five dollars. Why, just my head alone cost my papa one hundred dollars; and just think of those two big ones for only one hundred and twenty-five dollars!"
As all three of the boys sat in the large recessed window-seat, Reuben declared that he did not see how the window-panes could have been the wonder of the town, for they were not near as large as his Uncle Edward's, and nobody wondered at them!
They then imagined, walking in the same room where they then were, General Washington, as he came there in 1789 to be entertained by the Lees; and also Monroe, Jackson, and even Lafayette, who had been there, too. When one of the boys asked if the street in which he lived, in Salem, was named for that Lafayette, Mrs. Tracy noted the question as a good sign.
Soon they were in search of the old St. Michael's Episcopal Church, near there, which they had learned was the third oldest in Massachusetts, and the fourth in New England, those in Boston, Newbury, and Newport being the three older. As Mrs. Tracy approached it, she became indignant that the outer frame had ever been put over the original church with its seven gables and its towers; she wondered if it could not now be taken off and leave the old church, as it was meant to be, pretty and unique. When from the inside she saw the peculiar ceiling, she thought more than ever that it ought to be and could be done. While she was thus speculating, the boys were observing the quaint old brass chandelier, with its candles, a gift from England, also the pillars of the church, stained to imitate marble. Then they all examined the Decalogue over the altar, written in the ancient letters, and done in England in 1714. Mrs. Tracy wished that the old high pulpit and sounding-board had never been replaced by the desk which she now saw there. The sexton showed them the old English Bible, which he said had been in use there about one hundred and twenty-five years. They noticed the little organ, which was very old, and also sent over from England. As they came out of the church, they saw, by its side, a graveyard containing some old inscriptions, and then went on to see the old Town House in the square, which Reuben said was in its prime in the days of George III. He told the boys to wait until they should study history, and then they would know more about this king. That was what he was going to do. Mrs. Tracy noted this remark as another good sign.