"But I do though," said he; "I was only thinking how excellent a subst.i.tute strong common-sense may be for experience. Your answer is brief, concise, sagacious, and business-like; I endorse it unhesitatingly. It is just what I should have advised you to write. You are correct in thinking that your book will be popular, and wise in keeping the copyright in your own hands. In how incredibly short a time you have gained a literary reputation, Floy."

"Yes," answered Ruth, smiling, "it is all like a dream to me;" and then the smile faded away, and she shuddered involuntarily as the recollection of all her struggles and sufferings came vividly up to her remembrance.

Swiftly the hours fled away as Mr. Walter, with a brother's freedom, questioned Ruth as to her past life and drew from her the details of her eventful history.

"Thank G.o.d, the morning dawneth," said he in a subdued tone, as he pressed Ruth's hand, and bade her a parting good-night.

Ruth closed the door upon Mr. Walter's retreating figure, and sat down to peruse the following letters, which had been sent her to Mr. Walter's care, at the Household Messenger office.

"MRS. OR MISS 'FLOY:'

"Permit me to address you on a subject which lies near my heart, which is, in fact, a subject of pecuniary importance to the person now addressing you. My story is to me a painful one; it would doubtless interest you; were it written and published, it would be a thrilling tale.

"Some months since I had a lover whom I adored, and who said he adored me. But as Shakspeare has said, 'The course of true love never did run smooth;' ours soon became an up-hill affair, my lover proved false, ceased his visits, and sat on the other side of the meeting-house. On my writing to him and desiring an explanation, he insultingly replied, that I was not what his fancy had painted me. Was that _my_ fault? false, fickle, ungenerous man! But I was not thus to be deceived and shuffled off. No; I employed the best counsel in the State and commenced an action for damages, determined to get some balm for my wounded feelings; but owing to the premature death of my princ.i.p.al witness, I lost the case and the costs were heavy. The excitement and worry of the trial brought on a fever, and I found myself on my recovery, five hundred dollars in debt; I intend to pay every cent of this, but how am I to pay it? My salary for teaching school is small and it will take me many years. I want you, therefore, to a.s.sist me by writing out my story and giving me the book. I will furnish all the facts, and the story, written out by your magic pen, would be a certain success. A publisher in this city has agreed to publish it for me if you will write it. I could then triumph over the villain who so basely deceived me.

"Please send me an early answer, as the publisher referred to is in a great hurry.

"Very respectfully yours, "SARAH JARMESIN."

"Well," said Ruth, laughing, "my b.u.mp of invention will be entirely useless, if my kind friends keep on furnishing me with subjects at this rate. Here is letter No. 2."

"DEAR 'FLOY':

"My dog Fido is dead. He was a splendid Newfoundland, black and s.h.a.ggy; father gave $10 for him when he was a pup. We all loved him dearly. He was a prime dog, could swim like a fish. The other morning we found him lying motionless on the door-step. Somebody had poisoned poor Fido. I cried all that day, and didn't play marbles for a whole week. He is buried in the garden, and I want you to write an epithalamium about him. My brother John, who is looking over my shoulder, is laughing like everything; he says 't is an epitaph, not an epithalamium that I want, just as if _I_ didn't know what I want? John is just home from college, and thinks he knows everything. It is my dog, and I'll fix his tombstone just as I like. Fellows in round jackets are not always fools. Send it along quick, please, 'Floy'; the stone-cutter is at work now. What a funny way they cut marble, don't they? (with sand and water.) Johnny Weld and I go there every recess, to see how they get on with the tombstone. Don't stick in any Latin or Greek, now, in your epithalamium. Our John cannot call for a gla.s.s of water without lugging in one or the other of them; I'm sick as death of it. I wonder if I shall be such a fool when I go to college. You ought to be glad you are a woman, and don't have to go. Don't forget Fido, now. Remember, he was six years old, black, s.h.a.ggy, with a white spot on his forehead, and rather a short-ish tail--a prime dog, I tell _you_.

"BILLY SANDS."

"It is a harrowing case, Billy," said Ruth, "but I shall have to let Fido pa.s.s; now for letter No. 3."

"DEAR MADAM:

"I address a stranger, and yet _not_ a stranger, for I have read your heart in the pages of your books. In these I see sympathy for the poor, the sorrowing, and the dependent; I see a tender love for helpless childhood. Dear 'Floy,' I am an orphan, and that most wretched of all beings, a loving, but unloved wife. The hour so dreaded by all maternity draws near to me. It has been revealed to me in dreams that I shall not survive it. 'Floy,' will you be a mother to my babe? I cannot tell you why I put this trust in one whom I have only known through her writings, but something a.s.sures me it will be safe with you; that you only can fill my place in the little heart that this moment is pulsating beneath my own. Oh, do not refuse me. There are none in the wide world to dispute the claim I would thus transfer to you. Its father--but of him I will not speak; the wine-cup is my rival. Write me speedily. I shall die content if your arms receive my babe.

"Yours affectionately, MARY ANDREWS."

"Poor Mary! that letter must be answered," said Ruth, with a sigh;--"ah, here is one more letter."

"MISS, or MRS., or MADAM FLOY:

"I suppose by this time you have become so inflated that the honest truth would be rather unpalatable to you; nevertheless, I am going to send you a few plain words. The rest of the world flatters you--I shall do no such thing. You have written tolerably, all things considered, but you violate all established rules of composition, and are as lawless and erratic as a comet. You may startle and dazzle, but you are fit only to throw people out of their orbits. Now and then, there's a gleam of something like reason in your writings, but for the most part they are unmitigated trash--false in sentiment--unrhetorical in expression; in short, were you my daughter, which I thank a good Providence you are not, I should box your ears, and keep you on a bread and water diet till you improved. That you can do better, if you will, I am very sure, and that is why I take the pains to find fault, and tell you what none of your fawning friends will.

"You are not a genius--no, madam, not by many removes; Shakspeare was a genius--Milton was a genius--the author of 'History of the Dark Ages,' which has reached its fifteenth edition, was a genius--(you may not know you have now the honor of being addressed by him;) no, madam, you are not a genius, nor have I yet seen a just criticism of your writings; they are all either over-praised, or over-abused; you have a certain sort of talent, and that talent, I grant you, is peculiar; but a genius--no, no, Mrs., or Miss, or Madam Floy--you don't approach genius, though I am not without a hope that, if you are not spoiled by injudicious, sycophantic admirers, you may yet produce something creditable; although I candidly confess, that it is my opinion, that the _female_ mind is incapable of producing anything which may be strictly termed _literature_.

"Your honest friend, WILLIAM STEARNS.

"Prof. of Greek, Hebrew, and Mathematics, in Hopetown College, and author of 'History of the Dark Ages.'"

"Oh vanity! thy name is William Stearns," said Ruth.

CHAPTER LXXVI.

"Have you ever submitted your head to a phrenological examination?"

asked Mr. Walter, as he made a call on Ruth, the next morning.

"No," said Ruth; "I believe that much more is to be told by the expression of people's faces than by the b.u.mps upon their heads."

"And you a woman of sense!" replied Mr. Walter. "Will you have your head examined to please me? I should like to know what Prof. Finman would say of you, before I leave town."

"Well--yes--I don't mind going," said Ruth, "provided the Professor does not know his subject, and I see that there's fair play," said she, laughing; "but I warn you, beforehand, that I have not the slightest faith in the science."

Ruth tied on her bonnet, and was soon demurely seated in the Professor's office, with her hair about her shoulders. Mr. Walter sat at a table near, prepared to take notes in short-hand.

"You have an unusually even head, madam," said the Professor. "Most of the faculties are fully developed. There are not necessarily any extremes in your character, and when you manifest them, they are more the result of circ.u.mstances than the natural tendency of the mind.

You are of a family where there was more than ordinary unity in the connubial relations; certainly in the marriage, if not in the after-life of your parents.

"Your physiology indicates a predominance of the nervous temperament; this gives unusual activity of mind, and furnishes the capacity for a great amount of enjoyment or suffering. Few enjoy or suffer with such intensity as you do. Your happiness or misery depends very much on surrounding influences and circ.u.mstances.

"You have, next, a predominance of the vital temperament, which gives great warmth and ardor to your mind, and enables you to enjoy physical comfort and the luxuries of life in a high degree. Your muscular system is rather defective; there not being enough to furnish real strength and stamina of const.i.tution. Although you may live to be aged, you will not be able to put forth such vigorous efforts as you could do, were the motive or muscular temperament developed in a higher degree. You may think I am mistaken on this point, but I am not. You have an immense power of will, are energetic and forcible in overcoming obstacles, would display more than ordinary fort.i.tude in going through trials and difficulties, and possess a tenacity of purpose and perseverence in action, which enable you to do whatever you are determined upon doing; but these are _mental_ characteristics not _physical_, and your mind often tires out your body, and leaves you in a state of muscular prostration.

"Your phrenology indicates an unusual degree of respect and regard for whatever you value as superior. You never trifle with superiority. I do not mean conventional superiority or bombastic a.s.sumption, but what you really believe to be good and n.o.ble. As a child, you were very obedient, unless your sense of justice (which is very strong) was violated. In such a case, it was somewhat difficult for you to yield either ready or implicit obedience. You are religiously disposed. You are also characterized by a strong belief in Divine influences, providences, and special interpositions from on high. You are more than ordinarily spiritual in the tone of your mind. You see, or think you see, the hand of Providence in things as they transpire. You are also very conscientious, and this, combined with your firmness, which is quite strong, and supported by your faith in Providence, gives you a striking degree of what is called moral courage. When you believe you are right, there is no moving you; and your friends probably think that you are sometimes very obstinate; but let them convince your intellect and satisfy your conscience, and you will be quite tractable, more especially as you are characterized by unusual sympathy and tenderness of feeling. You too easily catch the spirit of others,--of those you love and are interested in, and feel as they feel, and enjoy or suffer as they do. You have very strong hope with reference to immortality and future happiness. When a young girl, you were remarkably abounding in your spiritual antic.i.p.ations of what you were going to be as a woman.

"You possess an extraordinary degree of perseverance, but have not a marked degree of prompt decision. After you have _decided_, you act energetically, and are more sure to finish what you commence, than you are ready to begin a new enterprise. You are decidedly cautious, anxious, mindful of results, and desire to avoid difficulty and danger.

You take all necessary care, and provide well for the future. Your cautiousness is, in fact, too active.

"You place a very high value on your character; are particularly sensitive to reproach; cannot tolerate scolding, or being found fault with. You can be quite reserved, dignified, and even haughty. You are usually kind and affable, but are capable of strong feelings of resentment. You make few enemies by your manner of speaking and acting.

You are uniform in the manifestation of your affections. You do not form attachments readily, or frequently; on the contrary, you are quite particular in the choice of your friends, and are very devoted to those to whom you become attached. You manifested these same traits when a child, in the selection of playmates.

"Your love is a mental love--a regard for the mind, rather than the person of the individual. You appreciate the masculine mind as such, rather than the physical form. You have a high regard for chivalry, manliness, and intellectuality in man, but you also demand goodness, and religious devotion. It would give you pain to hear a friend speak lightly of what you consider sacred things; and I hardly think you would ever love a man whom you _knew_ to be irreligious. Your maternal feelings are very strong. You are much interested in children. You sympathize with and understand them perfectly. You are, yourself, quite youthful in the tone of your mind; much younger than many not half your age. This, taken in connection with your sympathy with, and appreciation of, the character of children, enables you to entertain them, and win them to your wishes; but, at times, you are too anxious about their welfare. You are strongly attached to place, and are intensely patriotic. You believe in Plymouth Rock and Bunker Hill. You are not content without a home of your own; and yet, in a home of your own, you would not be happy without pleasant surroundings and a.s.sociations, scenery, and such things as would facilitate improvement and enjoyment.

"You are very fond of poetry and beauty, wherever you see it,--of oratory, sculpture, painting, scenery, flowers, and beautiful sentiments. You must have everything nice; you cannot tolerate anything coa.r.s.e or gross. The world is hardly finished nice enough for you. You are too exacting in this respect. The fact is, you are made of finer clay than most of us. You are particular with reference to your food, and not easily suited. You must have that which is clean and nice, or none. Whatever you do, such as embroidery, drawing, painting, needlework, or any artistic performance, is very nicely done. Your constructiveness is very large. You can plan well; can lay out work for others to advantage; can cut out things, and invent new and tasteful fashions. Your appreciation of colors is very nice; you can arrange and blend them harmoniously, in dress, in decoration of rooms, &c. You could make a slim wardrobe, and a small stock of furniture, go a great way, and get up a better looking parlor with a few hundred dollars, than some could with as many thousands.

"You exhibit a predominance of the reflective intellect over the perceptive, and are characterized for thought, judgment, and the power to comprehend ideas, more than for your knowledge of things, facts, circ.u.mstances or conditions of things. You remember and understand what you read, better than what you see and hear; still, you are more than ordinarily observant. In pa.s.sing along the street, you would see much more than people in general, and would be able to describe very accurately the style, execution and quality of whatever you saw. You have a pliable mind. You love acting, and would excel as an actress. You have great powers of sarcasm. You enjoy fun highly, but it must be of the right kind. You will tolerate nothing low. You are precise in the use of language, and are a good verbal critic. You ought to be a good conversationist, and a forcible and spicy writer. In depicting character and describing scenes, you would be apt to display many of the characteristics which d.i.c.kens exhibits. Your aptness in setting-forth, your keen sense of the ludicrous, your great powers of amplification, and the intensity of your feelings, would enable you to produce a finely wrought out, and exquisitely colored picture. You have also an active sense of music; are almost pa.s.sionately fond of that kind which is agreeable to you.

"You have more than ordinary fort.i.tude, but are lacking in the influences of combativeness. Your temper comes to a crisis too soon; you cannot keep angry long enough to scold. You dislike contention. You read the minds of others almost instantaneously; and at once form a favorable or unfavorable impression of a person. You are secretive, and disposed to conceal your feelings; are anxious to avoid unnecessary exposure of your faults, and know how to appear to the best advantage. You have a good faculty of entertaining others, but can be with persons a long time without their becoming acquainted with you.

"You dream things true; truth comes to you in dreams, forewarnings, admonitions, &c.

"You are liable to be a very happy, or very unhappy, woman. The worst feature of your whole character, or tone of mind, arises from the influence of your education. Too much attention was paid to your mind, and not enough to your body. You were brought forward too early, and made a woman of too soon. Ideas too big for you were put into your mind, and it was not occupied enough about the ordinary affairs of life.

This renders your mind too morbid and sensitive, and unfits you for encountering the disagreeable phases of life. You can endure disagreeable things with martyr-like firmness, but not with martyr-like resignation. They prey both on your mind and body, and wear heavily upon your spirit. You feel as though some one must go forward and clear the way for you to enjoy yourself; and if by any reverse of fortune, you have ever been thrown on your own resources, and forced to take care of yourself, you had to learn some lessons, which should have been taught you before you were sixteen years old. But in the general tone of your mind, in elevation of thought, feeling, sympathy, sentiment, and religious devotion, you rank far above most of us, above many who are, perhaps, better prepared to discharge the ordinary duties of life. In conclusion, I will remark, that very much might be said with reference to the operations of your mind, for we seldom find the faculties so fully developed, or the powers so versatile as in your case."

"Well," said Mr. Walter, with a triumphant air, as they left the Professor's office, "well, 'Floy,' what do you think?"

"I think we have received our $2 worth in flattery," replied Ruth, laughing.