Chapter 11

"Much times ze doctor come dare, and he give Meme ze medicine, but ce not get vell; and von time, ven I go to ze bed vare ce be, ce tell me dot ce die. Zen I cry, and Meme cry; and ce tell me dot ven her fader come, I vill tell him dot ze voman have got ze gold fon her moder, and ce have got ze locket, and ze vatch, and all ze tings. Zen Meme kiss me, and ce tell me dot I vill tell her fader dot ce love me, and dot he vill take me avay mit him; and vile Meme say dot, ce cry and ce cough. Zen quick ce not cough, and too quick ze lady come dare; and ven ce call Meme, Meme ce not hear,--ce have go im Himmel, ce have die, ce be dead. Ze lady cry; and all ze girls and ze boys come in, and ven zey see Meme dare, zey cry. Zen ze lady ce make nice tings, and ce put zem on Meme, all vite like ze snow; and von man bring dare ze box vot zey put Meme in, and it bees smooth like ze glass, and it open vare her face be; and all ze girls and ze boys see Meme, ven ce bees in ze box all vite. And von oder lady dare vot love Meme and vot teach her ze English, put ze flowers in ze box mit Meme; and ce kiss her, and I kiss her, and ze lady kiss her; and ze man make ze box tight, and he go avay off mit Meme, and he put her in ze ground.

"Long time I stay dare, and Meme's fader not come; but von day von good man come dare, and he lif me vay high in hees arms, and ven I feel him mit my hands, he have von big hat, mit no hair on hees head, and mit no but-tens on hees coat. Some English he speak, and some English he not speak. All ze time he say zee and zou, zee and zou; and ven he say dot he love me, and dot he vill take me avay mit him, I tink he bees Gott,--dot he have come, and he vill take me im Himmel mit my moder, and mit ze baby, and mit Meme, and I hold him tight aroun mit my arms; and zen ze lady say dot I go, and ce tell me Good-by, too quick I take my hand avay,--I tink dot ce keep me.

"Zen ze good man come mit me in hees carriage, and he make hees coat come roun me; and ven he come to hees house, he go up ze steps mit me in hees arms; and ven he have ring ze bell, ze lady come to ze door, and ze good man tell her dot he have got me. Zen he stand my feets down on ze floor, and he come mit ze tring, and he make it go roun me, and he make it how long I bees; and he make hees fing-er go on my feets, and he make ze tring go roun my head.

"Zen ze lady take me down ze stair, and ze voman dare put me in ze vater, and ce vash me and ce vash and ce vash; zen ce vipe and ce vipe; zen ce comb and ce comb, and ce make my curls come roun her fing-er. Zen ze good man have come back, and he bring mit him von leetle coat, and ze sirt and ze trouser vot I have, and ze stockings and ze shoes and ze hat; and ze lady ce put zem on me, and ce put von leetle hankchief in my pocket; and ce bring someting vot smell like ze rose, and ce spill it on my head, and ce spill it on my hands and on my hankchief, and ce vet my face mit it. Zen ze lady ce kiss me much times, much times ce kiss; and ze good man kiss me, and he lif me in hees arms, and he come avay mit me up ze stair to ze parlor, and ze lady bring me ze cake.

"Georgy come fon ze school, and Mary come fon ze school, and Franky, and ven zey talk, zey say zee and zou.

"I love ze good man, and I love ze lady; but I know dot ze good man bees not Gott, dot he not take me im Himmel mit my moder, and mit ze baby, and mit Meme. But he love me dare; and Georgy love me, he give me ze pennies in my pocket; and Mary love me, ce kiss me much times; and Franky say dot he vill give me hees horse vot go vay up and vay down, but he not valk, he have not ze life. He bees von vood horse, mit ze bridle and mit ze saddle on him, and Franky's fader have buy him to ze store; and much times Franky ride on him, and I ride on him."

VII.

Usually, when Little Jakey stopped his sweet talk, it was like the running down of a music-box, but not always as easy to set him going again. Besides, at the close of the last chapter he seemed to think his story ended, and put up his face for a kiss, as much as to say, Now please love me a little, and not tease me any more. So I yielded to his mood, and petted him awhile; wound his curls around my finger, and talked with him about everything likely to amuse him, until coming to a little pause in the conversation, I said,--

"How long did you stay with those _thee_ and _thou_ friends, Jakey? How long did the good man keep you with him in his house?"

"O, big long time I stay dare," he said, "and von time I come mit Mary in ze school vare ce go, and all ze Sundays ze lady and ze good man say dot I come mit zem all to ze Meeting. I love Mary; ce give me ze flowers, and I sleept mit her in ze bed; and all ze time I go mit her in ze garden, and ce tell me ze vords and ze flowers vot I not know.

"Much times ven ze peoples come dare vot say zee and zou, ze good man lif me in hees arms, and he tell me dot I talk mit zem, and much zey kiss me. Von time von man give me in my pocket ze big moneys, and zen Mary ce come mit me to ze store, and ce sell zem, and ce buy me ze coat mit ze but-tens, vot I vear in ze Meeting. And ven I go to ze Meeting, Mary ce tie ze ribbon roun my hat, and ce bruss me, and ce vash me, and ce make my curls come roun her fing-er, like my moder; and ce valk mit me to ze Meeting, and all ze time I sit mit her dare.

"Von day, ven ze good man say dot he bring me here in ze Institution, vare I read ze letters mit my fing-er, Mary say dot ce vill come mit me, and Georgy say dot he come; and Franky say dot he come; and Franky's fader say dot he may, and zey all come in ze carriage, and ze lady come. Ven zey go avay I not go mit zem, I stay here. Von time Mary have come here, and ce kiss me much times, and ce bring me ze flowers, and ce bring me ze cakes; and ven ce go avay ce cry, and ce say dot ce vill come von oder time, and ce vill bring Franky mit her. But ce have not come; von day ce vill come.

"Vill Gott know vare I bees, and vill he fine me here, ven he come? My moder say dot he vill come, and I know he vill."

VIII.

Two days after these sweet words, to my surprise, I found Little Jakey pillowed in an arm-chair.

"Bless me!" I exclaimed, "what has happened to this dear treasure? Are you sick, Little Jakey?"

"No," he replied, hardly able to speak, "I not sick, but I have got ze pain in my life," placing his little hand on his chest, "dot bees all. Vile I hear ze birds sing in ze park, I not know it, and I sleep on ze ground; and vile I sleep I tink my moder and ze baby, and Meme mit her, come vare I be. I tink zey all come fon Himmel, and I see zem, and I talk mit zem, and zey talk mit me, and zey say dot I vill go mit zem; but ven I vake I bees sleep on ze ground, and ze big rains have come down, and zey have vet me too vet, and I bees too cold; and ven I tink I come to ze house, I not fine ze vay; and I have got ze pain in my head, and ze pain in my neck. Long time I not fine ze vay; zen long time Bridget ce come, and ce bring me to ze house, and ce put me in ze bed; and in ze night I have got ze pain in my life."

I knelt down before the dear, stricken lamb, and blaming my neglect of him, I kissed him many times, and tried to smooth the pain from his little brow; but what I felt, words can never speak.

The next morning Little Jakey was regularly installed in the sick-room.

Days passed, but the doctors would not say that they thought him any better. Some days, however, he was able to be pillowed up in an arm-chair, and amuse himself a little with the toys the children were constantly bringing him; for by this time the desire to do something for Little Jakey had come to pervade the whole house.

Once, sitting by his little bed, I discovered that he was trying very hard to keep awake, and I said to him softly,--

"Dear Jakey, why do you not shut those sweet eyes of yours, and go to sleep? Surely you must be sleepy."

"Yes, but I tink I not sleep. Vile I sleep, ze pain make me groan, and Mattie ce hear me, and ce not sleep."

Mattie was then very sick also, and lying on a little bed not far from his.

One day Mr. Artman, a German, called on Jakey, who asked for his little box of moneys, which had been presented to him mostly by visitors, and placing it in Mr. Artman's hand, he said to him, in his own sweet way,--

"You vill keep ze leetle box mit you. Von time Jeem and Fred vill come in ze America, and ven zey come, you vill give ze big money to Jeem, and ze leetle moneys to Fred; and you vill tell zem dot I have go im Himmel mit my moder, and mit ze baby, and mit Meme."

IX.

One warm day when I visited Little Jakey his bed had been drawn around facing the window, and I found him sitting bolstered up there, with his long black curls lying out on the pillows.

"My dear," said I, "I have brought you a bouquet, and let us pull it into pieces and see what we can make of it."

Soon Little Jakey's bed was strewn over with the flowers. I do not remember ever having seen him so cheerful as he was that evening. Making a little hoop from a piece of wire, I twined him a wreath, while he amused himself handing me the flowers for it, and feeling over their soft leaves, and asking their names. Whether large or small, he never asked the name of the same kind of flower but once. When we placed it on his little head,--

"Vy!" he exclaimed, "von time my moder have vear ze flowers like dis. Ce go vare von lady sing vot have come fon Italy; my fader go mit her dare. And von time ze lady come to my moder's house, and ce sing to ze harp, and ce sing to ze piano, and my moder and my fader sing mit her; and ce stay dare to ze supper, and much peoples come to ze supper."

I remained with Little Jakey that night, and when all were still, and the night taper was glimmering faintly through the room, I felt his little hand pull mine, as if he would draw me closer to him.

"What, dear?" I said, stooping over him.

"I tink I die," he whispered; "I tink I go im Himmel mit my moder, and mit ze baby, and mit Meme."

"Why, Jakey," I asked, coaxingly, "what makes you think so?"

"Vy, ven ze baby die, ce be sick; and ven my moder die, ce be sick; and ven Meme die, ce be sick; and I be sick, and I tink I die."

"So you are, very sick indeed, dear Jakey," I said; "but you will not be sorry to die, will you, dear?"

"No, I not sorry; but all ze time I tink, How vill it be? Ven Gott take me im Himmel, vill he come mit me in ze leetle boat? zen vill he come mit me in ze big boat, mit ze big fire? and zen vill he come in ze big ship, mit ze tree vay high, and mit ze sail? and ven ze vinds blow too hard, and ze ship come crash on ze rock, and all ze peoples cry, vill Gott hold me tight in hees arms, like my moder?"

"Yes, you dear, dear child," I said, "God will surely keep you close in his arms always, and when you come where he is, dear Jakey, your sweet eyes will have the light in them. You will see the stars then, and the angels, and all the good people who have gone to heaven from this world, and God, and his dear Son, Jesus. You know about him, do you not? He loves little children."

"Yes, I know him," he said; "my moder have tell me dot von time he have come fon Himmel in ze vorld, and ze wicked men have kill him; zey have nail him to ze tree; and my moder say dot Jazu be ze Lord, and dot he love ze little children, and von time he have lif zem in hees arms; and he say dot he love zem all, and dot he vill bring zem im Himmel mit him, ven zey bees good. Meme ce know him too, and much times ce talk mit him in ze prayer vot ce say; and ce say dot he hear her, ce know he do. Ze good man know him, and much he talk mit him in ze Meeting; but to ze table he not talk, he tink mit him, mit hees hands so (crossing his own little ones, as if in the act of devotion). Georgy do dot vay, and Franky, and zey all; and Mary tell me, and I do dot vay."

After a little, he asked again with great earnestness,--

"How vill it be? If Gott not know ven I die, and if he bees not here, vill zey keep me von day and von day, vile he come?"

"O yes, dear Jakey," I said; "but God will be here. He is here now. Let me explain it to you. God is a great Spirit, and he is everywhere. You have a little spirit in you, too, Jakey, that makes you talk and think and feel; now, while your spirit is shut up in your little body here, it cannot see God, but when this little body dies, your spirit will come out, and then it will see God, and see everything, and have wings and rise up, like the angels, and fly away to heaven, or Himmel, as you call it."

I was wondering what Little Jakey was thinking of this, when, after a moment, he exclaimed,--

"Vy! ven my moder have make me in ze pic-sure, ce make me mit vings, but ce not say dot I have ze vings, ven I come im Himmel. Heaven bees in America, but Himmel bees in Germany. My moder go dare, and ce say dot Gott vill come, and he vill bring me mit him dare, vare ce be. I vish I come dare now!"

"Darling, you must shut your sweet eyes now and go to sleep."

"No," he said, "ven I sut my eyes, zey not sut, and ven I tink I sleep, I not sleep. I bees cold; too cold I bees. I tink I die; I tink I go im Himmel now mit my moder, and mit ze baby, and mit Meme. Vill Gott come, and vill he fine me here? How vill it be? How--vill--it--be?"

We sprang to him, and, leaning over his little form, felt that his pulse was really still, and his sweet breath hushed forever.

THE LOST CHILD.

BY HENRY KINGSLEY.

Remember? Yes, I remember well that time when the disagreement arose between Sam Buckley and Cecil, and how it was mended. You are wrong about one thing, General; no words ever passed between those two young men; death was between them before they had time to speak.

I will tell you the real story, old as I am, as well as either of them could tell it for themselves; and as I tell it I hear the familiar roar of the old snowy river in my ears, and if I shut my eyes I can see the great mountain, Lanyngerin, bending down his head like a thoroughbred horse with a curb in his mouth; I can see the long gray plains, broken with the outlines of the solitary volcanoes Widderin and Monmot. Ah, General Halbert! I will go back there next year, for I am tired of England, and I will leave my bones there; I am getting old, and I want peace, as I had it in Australia. As for the story you speak of, it is simply this:--

Four or five miles up the river from Garoopna stood a solitary hut, sheltered by a lofty, bare knoll, round which the great river chafed among the bowlders. Across the stream was the forest sloping down in pleasant glades from the mountain; and behind the hut rose the plain four or five hundred feet overhead, seeming to be held aloft by the blue-stone columns which rose from the river-side.

In this cottage resided a shepherd, his wife, and one little boy, their son, about eight years old,--a strange, wild, little bush child, able to speak articulately, but utterly without knowledge or experience of human creatures, save of his father and mother; unable to read a line; without religion of any sort or kind; as entire a little savage, in fact, as you could find in the worst den in your city, morally speaking, and yet beautiful to look on; as active as a roe, and, with regard to natural objects, as fearless as a lion.

As yet unfit to begin labor, all the long summer he would wander about the river-bank, up and down the beautiful rock-walled paradise where he was confined, sometimes looking eagerly across the water at the waving forest boughs, and fancying he could see other children far up the vistas beckoning to him to cross and play in that merry land of shifting lights and shadows.

It grew quite into a passion with the little man to get across and play there; and one day when his mother was shifting the hurdles, and he was handing her the strips of green hide which bound them together, he said to her, "Mother, what country is that across the river?"

"The forest, child."

"There's plenty of quantongs over there, eh, mother, and raspberries? Why mayn't I get across and play there?"

"The river is too deep, child, and the Bunyip lives in the water under the stones."

"Who are the children that play across there?"

"Black children, likely."

"No white children?"

"Pixies; don't go near 'em, child; they'll lure you on, Lord knows where. Don't get trying to cross the river, now, or you'll be drowned."

But next day the passion was stronger on him than ever. Quite early on the glorious, cloudless, midsummer day he was down by the river-side, sitting on a rock, with his shoes and stockings off, paddling his feet in the clear tepid water, and watching the million fish in the shallows--black fish and grayling--leaping and flashing in the sun.

There is no pleasure that I have ever experienced like a child's midsummer holiday,--the time, I mean, when two or three of us used to go away up the brook, and take our dinners with us, and come home at night tired, dirty, happy, scratched beyond recognition, with a great nosegay, three little trout, and one shoe, the other having been used for a boat till it had gone down with all hands out of soundings. How poor our Derby days, our Greenwich dinners, our evening parties, where there are plenty of nice girls, are, after that! Depend on it, a man never experiences such pleasure or grief after fourteen as he does before,--unless in some cases in his first love-making, when the sensation is new to him.

But meanwhile there sat our child, bare-legged, watching the forbidden ground beyond the river. A fresh breeze was moving the trees and making the whole a dazzling mass of shifting light and shadow. He sat so still that a glorious violet and red kingfisher perched quite close, and, dashing into the water, came forth with a fish, and fled like a ray of light along the winding of the river. A colony of little shell parrots, too, crowded on a bough, and twittered and ran to and fro quite busily, as though they said to him, "We don't mind you, my dear; you are quite one of us."

Never was the river so low. He stepped in; it scarcely reached his ankle. Now surely he might get across. He stripped himself, and, carrying his clothes, waded through, the water never reaching his middle, all across the long, yellow, gravelly shallow. And there he stood, naked and free, on the forbidden ground.

He quickly dressed himself, and began examining his new kingdom, rich beyond his utmost hopes. Such quantongs, such raspberries, surpassing imagination; and when tired of them, such fern boughs, six or eight feet long! He would penetrate this region, and see how far it extended.

What tales he would have for his father to-night! He would bring him here, and show him all the wonders, and perhaps he would build a new hut over here, and come and live in it? Perhaps the pretty young lady, with the feathers in her hat, lived somewhere here, too?

There! There is one of those children he has seen before across the river. Ah! ah! it is not a child at all, but a pretty gray beast with big ears. A kangaroo, my lad; he won't play with you, but skips away slowly, and leaves you alone.

There is something like the gleam of water on that rock. A snake! Now a sounding rush through the wood, and a passing shadow. An eagle! He brushes so close to the child, that he strikes at the bird with a stick, and then watches him as he shoots up like a rocket and, measuring the fields of air in ever-widening circles, hangs like a motionless speck upon the sky; though, measure his wings across, and you will find he is nearer fifteen feet than fourteen.

Here is a prize, though! A wee little native bear, barely a foot long,--a little gray beast, comical beyond expression, with broad flapped ears,--sits on a tree within reach. He makes no resistance, but cuddles into the child's bosom, and eats a leaf as they go along; while his mother sits aloft and grunts indignant at the abstraction of her offspring, but on the whole takes it pretty comfortably, and goes on with her dinner of peppermint leaves.

What a short day it has been! Here is the sun getting low, and the magpies and jackasses beginning to tune up before roosting.

He would turn and go back to the river. Alas! which way?

He was lost in the bush. He turned back and went, as he thought, the way he had come, but soon arrived at a tall, precipitous cliff, which by some infernal magic seemed to have got between him and the river. Then he broke down, and that strange madness came on him, which comes even on strong men, when lost in the forest--a despair, a confusion of intellect, which has cost many a man his life. Think what it must be with a child!

He was fully persuaded that the cliff was between him and home, and that he must climb it. Alas! every step he took aloft carried him further from the river, and the hope of safety; and when he came to the top, just at dark, he saw nothing but cliff after cliff, range after range, all around him. He had been wandering through steep gullies all day unconsciously, and had penetrated far into the mountains. Night was coming down, still and crystal clear, and the poor little lad was far away from help or hope, going his last long journey alone.

Partly perhaps walking, and partly sitting down and weeping, he got through the night; and when the solemn morning came up, again he was still tottering along the leading range, bewildered, crying from time to time, "Mother, mother!" still nursing his little bear, his only companion, to his bosom, and holding still in his hand a few poor flowers he had gathered up the day before. Up and on all day, and at evening, passing out of the great zone of timber, he came on the bald, thunder-smitten summit ridge, where one ruined tree held up its skeleton arms against the sunset, and the wind came keen and frosty. So, with failing, feeble legs, upward still, toward the region of the granite and the snow; toward the eyry of the kite and the eagle.

* * * * *

Brisk as they all were at Garoopna, none were so brisk as Cecil and Sam. Charles Hawker wanted to come with them, but Sam asked him to go with Jim, and, long before the others were ready, our two had strapped their blankets to their saddles, and followed by Sam's dog Rover, now getting a little gray about the nose, cantered off up the river.

Neither spoke at first. They knew what a solemn task they had before them; and, while acting as though everything depended on speed, guessed well that their search was only for a little corpse, which, if they had luck, they would find stiff and cold under some tree or crag.

Cecil began: "Sam, depend on it, that child has crossed the river to this side. If he had been on the plains, he would have been seen from a distance in a few hours."

"I quite agree," said Sam. "Let us go down on this side till we are opposite the hut, and search for marks by the river-side."

So they agreed, and in half an hour were opposite the hut, and, riding across to it to ask a few questions, found the poor mother sitting on the doorstep, with her apron over her head, rocking herself to and fro.

"We have come to help you, mistress," said Sam. "How do you think he is gone?"

She said, with frequent bursts of grief, that "some days before he had mentioned having seen white children across the water, who beckoned him to cross and play; that she, knowing well that they were fairies, or perhaps worse, had warned him solemnly not to mind them; but that she had very little doubt that they had helped him over and carried him away to the forest; and that her husband would not believe in his having crossed the river."

"Why, it is not knee-deep across the shallow," said Cecil.

"Let us cross again," said Sam; "he _may_ be drowned, but I don't think it."