The last words were accompanied by a groan.

"Where was the vessel bound?" asked the lady.

"For the West Indies, ma'am. She's due next week; but I'm afeard that during the voyage my boy has learned nothing but wickedness in company with those rough, swearing sailors."

Mrs. Curtis thought this so probable that she could not think of a word to comfort the poor father's heart, and Bertie could only gaze sorrowfully in his face.

The man turned away, and made a step towards his oxen, but then came back and said abruptly:

"I never shall forget your boy, ma'am. His words led me to the Bible.

Bad as wife and I have taken on since our only child ran away from us, we should have been a great deal worse but for the words of comfort we found in G.o.d's book."

"I am truly rejoiced to hear you say that," exclaimed Mrs. Curtis, warmly. "If you have learned to pray, you will find comfort in leaving your child in the hands of the almighty Friend whose eye has followed him in all his wanderings. Remember the heart of our Saviour yearns over the creatures for whom he has shed his blood."

"Thank you, ma'am," faltered the man, his eyes growing dim. "I wish wife could have heard you talk; but I shall tell her every word I can remember. I don't mind saying to you, that wife and I were never so nigh each other as since we began to pray. There used to be high words between us, I accusing her of humoring the boy; and she calling me a hard old tyrant. But each of us sees now that we were both in the wrong. If we'd taught him the Bible from the first, he would have stuck to it. There's the promise, 'Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it.'"

At this moment Mr. Curtis was seen hurrying toward them; and Mr.

Cahart with a "G.o.d bless your boy, ma'am," turned abruptly away.

CHAPTER VI.

CLEARING THE CREEK.

Albert Dodge, the new gardener pa.s.sed ten days while he was recruiting his health, in visiting gardens and green houses, trying to improve his taste and gain all the information in his power. He had agreed with Mr. Curtis to return to Oxford as soon as the family were settled at Woodlawn and remain as long as the weather would allow out-door work. When the frost forbade further improvements, he was to leave and spend three months in the employ of Hantz, the celebrated florist.

But one morning the very last of October, as Mr. Curtis was sauntering along near the lake, absorbed in a project he had just formed, the daily coach stopped before the gate, and who should spring from it but Albert Dodge.

This young man, as I have already described, had such a merry face that few could meet him without a warmth in the region of the heart.

Certainly his new master could not, and advancing cordially he held out his hand, exclaiming:

"I was just thinking of you, and wishing you were at hand to help me plan a little. I want to do something with this brook."

"I came on purpose to offer a suggestion, sir. I've been here and there on an exploring tour; and I am happy to say I have found no place which has so many natural advantages as _ours_."

He laid some stress on the word; his eye twinkling, and then added:

"It is my intention to make myself so important to you, that you will never part with me. I already feel almost as much interest in Woodlawn as if the deeds stood registered in the name of Albert Dodge."

"I'm glad of it," answered the Squire, laughing, "and to prove my confidence in your ability, I will ask you what I shall do with this little creek; it spreads itself out very awkwardly just at this point where it ought to be most graceful."

"I have it, sir," said Dodge after a careful survey. "I should clear the stream which runs muddy in this place by throwing pebbles to the bottom; widen it twenty feet more; make a pretty little egg-shaped island in the centre, upon which I should plant a few shrubs and perhaps a weeping willow, which would thrive admirably in this wet soil."

"Good! good! It shall be done! When shall you be ready to go to work?"

"To-day, if Grant can come with his oxen. I can postpone one visit I wish to make till winter."

The next morning Bertie came riding to the spot on Whitefoot's back.

Buck and Bright were there, the wagon backed down to the very edge of the water, while Star and Spot were dragging off a load of mud sc.r.a.ped or scooped up from the bed of the shallow brook.

"Where is papa?" inquired Bertie, after he had sat awhile watching the operations.

"Gone with the new gardener to buy some trees," answered Tom, laughing. "The Squire's up to all sorts of improvements. Shouldn't wonder a mite if he should take down yonder mountain to give him a view of the city."

"I think this will be very pretty when it's done," remarked the child.

"How long did they say they should be gone?"

"Didn't say in my hearing. Bertie I wish you'd ask the Squire if he'd like a load of beach pebbles, 'cause if he does, I'll bring him a load to-morrow morning. Those are the kind to make this water run clear."

"Oh, there they are!" shouted the boy, trotting off to meet them.

"Have you bought the trees, Papa?"

"Yes, and brought them home, don't you see them?"

"What, those little things?"

"Willows grow very fast, my son. They will thrive better than if they were larger."

"But, papa, how can we get to the island? Shall we have a bridge?"

"You must ask Dodge, Bertie. He is the author of this plan."

"I'll tell you what would be better than a bridge," explained Dodge, laughing. "You must learn to row a boat; and then you can land at any place, you know. But our island is more for ornament than for profit.

We don't expect to have a settlement there."

"Why wouldn't it be pretty to have a little house for the swans on it?

Joe Allen told me they could be taught to come on sh.o.r.e for their feed."

"We will consider that proposal, my dear, when the island is in existence," answered papa; "in the meantime you may think of a pretty name for it."

CHAPTER VII.

PAT'S VISIT HOME.

I hope my readers have become so much interested in Pat Riley that they will be as glad to hear from him as Bertie was.

We left him, as you know, in Mrs. Taylor's back chamber, making tops for the children. In a few days he was able to go down stairs. The first use he made of his liberty was to make a reel for Mrs. Taylor to wind her yarn on.

Wishing to keep the boy employed, the good woman had borrowed a reel of a neighbor, and set him to work winding thread. The contrivance greatly delighted him. He examined it with the utmost care, pushing it up and down, to fit it for a larger or smaller skein, much to the amus.e.m.e.nt of the good woman.

"Did you never see one before?" she asked, smiling.