The first of these true histories is about Annie Percival,--a very dearand lovely child, whose journey interested many other children, and isstill remembered with gratitude by those whom she visited on a far-offisland.
Annie was six when she sailed away to Fayal with her mother, grandmamma,and "little Aunt Ruth," as she called the young aunty who was still aschool-girl. Very cunning was Annie's outfit, and her little trunk was apretty as well as a curious sight, for everything was so small andcomplete it looked as if a doll was setting off for Europe. Such a weedressing-case, with bits of combs and brushes for the curly head; such acosey scarlet wrapper for the small woman to wear in her berth, withslippers to match when she trotted from state-room to state-room; suchpiles of tiny garments laid nicely in, and the owner's initials on theoutside of the trunk; not to mention the key on a ribbon in her pocket,as grown up as you please.
I think the sight of that earnest, sunshiny face must have been verypleasant to all on board, no matter how seasick they might be, and thesound of the cheery little voice, as sweet as the chirp of a bird,especially when she sung the funny song about the "Owl and the pussy-catin the pea-green boat," for she had charming ways, and was always makingquaint, wise, or loving remarks.
Well, "they sailed and they sailed," and came at last to Fayal, whereeverything was so new and strange that Annie's big brown eyes couldhardly spare time to sleep, so busy were they looking about. The donkeysamused her very much, so did the queer language and ways of thePortuguese people round her, especially the very droll names given tothe hens of a young friend. The biddies seemed to speak the same dialectas at home, but evidently they understood Spanish also, and knew theirown names, so it was fun to go and call Rio, Pico, Cappy, Clarissa,Whorfie, and poor Simonena, whose breast-bone grew out so that shecould not eat and had to be killed.
But the thing which made the deepest impression on Annie was a visit toa charity-school at the old convent of San Antonio. It was kept by somekind ladies, and twenty-five girls were taught and cared for in the big,bare place, that looked rather gloomy and forlorn to people from happyBoston, where charitable institutions are on a noble scale, as everybodyknows.
Annie watched all that went on with intelligent interest, and when theywere shown into the play-room she was much amazed and afflicted to findthat the children had nothing to play with but a heap of rags, out ofwhich they made queer dolls, with ravelled twine for hair, faces rudelydrawn on the cloth, and funny boots on the shapeless legs. No other toysappeared, but the girls sat on the floor of the great stone room,--forthere was no furniture,--playing contentedly with their poor dolls, andsmiling and nodding at "the little Americana," who gravely regarded thissad spectacle, wondering how they could get on without china and waxenbabies, tea-sets, and pretty chairs and tables to keep house with.
The girls thought that she envied them their dolls, and presently onecame shyly up to offer two of their best, leaving the teacher to explainin English their wish to be polite to their distinguished guest. Likethe little gentlewoman she was, Annie graciously accepted the ugly bitsof rag with answering nods and smiles, and carried them away with her ascarefully as if they were of great beauty and value.
But when she was at home she expressed much concern and distress at thedestitute condition of the children. Nothing but rags to play withseemed a peculiarly touching state of poverty to her childish mind, andbeing a generous creature she yearned to give of her abundance to "allthe poor orphans who didn't have any nice dollies." She had several petsof her own, but not enough to go round even if she sacrificed them, sokind grandmamma, who had been doing things of this sort all her life,relieved the child's perplexity by promising to send twenty-five finedolls to Fayal as soon as the party returned to Boston, where thesenecessaries of child-life are cheap and plenty.
Thus comforted, Annie felt that she could enjoy her dear Horta and ChicaPico Fatiera, particular darlings rechristened since her arrival. Abundle of gay bits of silk, cloth, and flannel, and a present of moneyfor books, were sent out to the convent by the ladies. A treat of littlecheeses for the girls to eat with their dry bread was added, much toAnnie's satisfaction, and helped to keep alive her interest in theschool of San Antonio.
After many pleasant adventures during the six months spent in the city,our party came sailing home again all the better for the trip, and Annieso full of tales to tell that it was a never-failing source of amusementto hear her hold forth to her younger brother in her pretty way,"splaining and 'scribing all about it."
Grandmamma's promise was faithfully kept, and Annie brooded blissfullyover the twenty-five dolls till they were dressed, packed, and sent awayto Fayal. A letter of thanks soon came back from the teacher, tellinghow surprised and delighted the girls were, and how they talked ofAnnie as if she were a sort of fairy princess who in return for two poorrag-babies sent a miraculous shower of splendid china ladies with gaygowns and smiling faces.
This childish charity was made memorable to all who knew of it by thefact that three months after she came home from that happy voyage Annietook the one from which there is no return. For this journey there wasneeded no preparation but a little white gown, a coverlet of flowers,and the casket where the treasure of many hearts was tenderly laid away.All alone, but not afraid, little Annie crossed the unknown sea thatrolls between our world and the Islands of the Blest, to be welcomedthere, I am sure, by spirits as innocent as her own, leaving behind hera very precious memory of her budding virtues and the relics of a short,sweet life.
Every one mourned for her, and all her small treasures were so carefullykept that they still exist. Poor Horta, in the pincushion arm-chair,seems waiting patiently for the little mamma to come again; the tworag-dolls lie side by side in grandma's scrap-book, since there is nowno happy voice to wake them into life; and far away in the convent ofSan Antonio the orphans carefully keep their pretty gifts in memory ofthe sweet giver. To them she is a saint now, not a fairy princess; forwhen they heard of her death they asked if they might pray for the soulof the dear little Americana, and the teacher said, "Pray rather for thepoor mother who has lost so much." So the grateful orphans prayed andthe mother was comforted, for now another little daughter lies in herarms and kisses away the lonely pain at her heart.
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The second small traveller I want to tell about lived in the same cityas the first, and her name was Maggie Woods. Her father was anEnglishman who came to America to try his fortune, but did not find it;for, when Maggie was three months old, the great Chicago fire destroyedtheir home; soon after, the mother died; then the father was drowned,and Maggie was left all alone in a strange country.
She had a good aunt in England, however, who took great pains todiscover the child after the death of the parents, and sent for her tocome home and be cared for. It was no easy matter to get a five-years'child across the Atlantic, for the aunt could not come to fetch her, andno one whom she knew was going over. But Maggie had found friends inChicago; the American consul at Manchester was interested in the case,and every one was glad to help the forlorn baby, who was too young tounderstand the pathos of her story.
After letters had gone to and fro, it was decided to send the child toEngland in charge of the captain of a steamer, trusting to the kindnessof all fellow-travellers to help her on her way.
The friends in Chicago bestirred themselves to get her ready, and thenit was that Annie's mother found that she could do something which wouldhave delighted her darling, had she been here to know of it. Laidtenderly away were many small garments belonging to the other littlepilgrim, whose journeying was so soon ended; and from among all theseprecious things Mrs. Percival carefully chose a comfortable outfit forthat cold March voyage.
The little gray gown went, and the red hood, the warm socks, and thecosey wraps no longer needed by the quiet sleeper under the snow.Perhaps something of her loving nature lingered about the clothes, andhelped to keep the orphan warm and safe, for Annie's great delight wasto pet and help all who needed comfort and protection.
When all was ready, Maggie's small effects were packed in a lightbasket, so that she could carry it herself if need be. A card brieflytelling the story was fastened on the corner, and a similar paperrecommending her to the protection of all kind people, was sewed to thebosom of her frock. Then, not in the least realizing what lay beforeher, the child was consigned to the conductor of the train to beforwarded to persons in New York who would see her safely on board thesteamer.
I should dearly like to have seen the little maid and the big basket asthey set out on that long trip as tranquilly as if for a day's visit;and it is a comfort to know that before the train started, the personswho took her there had interested a motherly lady in the youngtraveller, who promised to watch over her while their ways were thesame.
All went well, and Maggie was safely delivered to the New York friends,who forwarded her to the steamer, well supplied with toys and comfortsfor the voyage, and placed in charge of captain and stewardess. Shesailed on the 3d of March, and on the 12th landed at Liverpool, after apleasant trip, during which she was the pet of all on board.
The aunt welcomed her joyfully, and the same day the child reached hernew home, the Commercial Inn, Compstall, after a journey of over fourthousand miles. The consul and owners of the steamer wanted to see theadventurous young lady who had come so far alone, and neighbors andstrangers made quite a lion of her, for all kindly hearts wereinterested, and the protective charity which had guided and guarded herin two hemispheres and across the wide sea, made all men fathers, allwomen mothers, to the little one till she was safe.
Her picture lies before me as I write,--a pretty child standing in achair, with a basket of toys on the table before her; curly hair pushedback from the face, pensive eyes, and a pair of stout little feetcrossed one over the other as if glad to rest. I wish I could put thephotograph into the story, because the small heroine is an interestingone, and still lives with the good aunt, who is very fond and proud ofher, and writes pleasant accounts of her progress to the friends inAmerica.
So ends the journey of my second small traveller, and when I think ofher safe and happy in a good home, I always fancy that (if such thingsmay be) in the land which is lovelier than even beautiful old England,Maggie's mother watches over little Annie.