"Good Lord!" said Mr. Gridley, "think a minute, my dear madam. Iwill not say one word,--only think a minute, and mention some name that will not suggest quite so many winks and whispers."She did think something less than a minute, and then said aloud, "Abraham Lincoln Hopkins.""Fifteen thousand children have been so christened during the past year, on a moderate computation.""Do think of some name yourself, Mr. Gridley; I shall like anything that you like. To think of those dear babes having a fund--if that's the right name--on purpose for 'em, and a promise of a legacy, I hope they won't get that till they're a hundred year old!""What if we change Isosceles to Theodore, Mrs. Hopkins? That means the gift of God, and the child has been a gift from Heaven, rather than a burden."Mrs. Hopkins seized her apron, and held it to her eyes. She was weeping. "Theodore!" she said, "Theodore! My little brother's name, that I buried when I was only eleven year old. Drownded. The dearest little child that ever you see. I have got his little mug with Theodore on it now. Kep' o' purpose. Our little Sossy shall have it. Theodore P. Hopkins,--sha'n't it be, Mr. Gridley?""Well, if you say so; but why that P., Mrs. Hopkins? Theodore Parker, is it?""Doesn't P. stand for Pemberton, and isn't Father Pemberton the best man in the world--next to you, Mr. Gridley?""Well, well, Mrs. Hopkins, let it be so, if you are suited, I am.
Now about Helminthia; there can't be any doubt about what we ought to call her,--surely the friend of orphans should be remembered in naming one of the objects of her charity.""Cynthia Badlam Fund Hopkins," said the good woman triumphantly,--"is that what you mean?""Suppose we leave out one of the names,--four are too many. I think the general opinion will be that Hehninthia should unite the names of her two benefactresses,--Cynthia Badlam Hopkins.""Why, law! Mr. Gridley, is n't that nice?--Minthy and Cynthy,--there ain't but one letter of difference! Poor Cynthy would be pleased if she could know that one of our babes was to be called after her. She was dreadful fond of children."On one of the sweetest Sundays that ever made Oxbow Village lovely, the Rev. Dr. Eliphalet Pembertan was summoned to officiate at three most interesting ceremonies,--a wedding and two christenings, one of the latter a double one.
The first was celebrated at the house of the Rev. Mr. Stoker, between the Rev. Cyprian Eveleth and Bathsheba, daughter of the first-named clergyman. He could not be present on account of his great infirmity, but the door of his chamber was left open that he might hear the marriage service performed. The old, white-haired minister, assisted, as the papers said, by the bridegroom's father, conducted the ceremony according to the Episcopal form. When he came to those solemn words in which the husband promises fidelity to the wife so long as they both shall live, the nurse, who was watching, near the poor father, saw him bury his face in his pillow, and heard him murmur the words, "God be merciful to me a sinner!"The christenings were both to take place at the same service, in the old meeting-house. Colonel Clement Lindsay and Myrtle his wife came in, and stout Nurse Byloe bore their sturdy infant in her arms. Aslip of paper was handed to the Reverend Doctor on which these words were written:--"The name is Charles Hazard."The solemn and touching rite was then performed; and Nurse Byloe disappeared with the child, its forehead glistening with the dew of its consecration.
Then, hand in hand, like the babes in the wood, marched up the broad aisle--marshalled by Mrs. Hopkins in front, and Mrs. Gifted Hopkins bringing up the rear--the two children hitherto known as Isosceles and Helminthia. They had been well schooled, and, as the mysterious and to them incomprehensible ceremony was enacted, maintained the most stoical aspect of tranquillity. In Mrs.
Hopkins's words, "They looked like picters, and behaved like angels."That evening, Sunday evening as it was, there was a quiet meeting of some few friends at The Poplars. It was such a great occasion that the Sabbatical rules, never strict about Sunday evening,--which was, strictly speaking, secular time,--were relaxed. Father Pemberton was there, and Master Byles Gridley, of course, and the Rev. Ambrose Eveleth, with his son and his daughter-in-law, Bathsheba, and her mother, now in comfortable health, aunt Silence and her husband, Doctor Hurlbut and his wife (Olive Eveleth that was), Jacob Penhallow, Esq., Mrs. Hopkins, her son and his wife (Susan Posey that was), the senior deacon of the old church (the admirer of the great Scott), the Editor-in-chief of the "Banner and Oracle," and in the background Nurse Byloe and the privileged servant, Mistress Kitty ***an, with a few others whose names we need not mention.
The evening was made pleasant with sacred music, and the fatigues of two long services repaired by such ****** refections as would not turn the holy day into a day of labor. A large paper copy of the new edition of Byles Gridley's remarkable work was lying on the table.
He never looked so happy,--could anything fill his cup fuller? In the course of the evening Clement spoke of the many trials through which they had passed in common with vast numbers of their countrymen, and some of those peculiar dangers which Myrtle had had to encounter in the course of a life more eventful, and attended with more risks, perhaps, than most of them imagined. But Myrtle, he said, had always been specially cared for. He wished them to look upon the semblance of that protecting spirit who had been faithful to her in her gravest hours of trial and danger. If they would follow him into one of the lesser apartments up stairs they would have an opportunity to do so.
Myrtle wondered a little, but followed with the rest. They all ascended to the little projecting chamber, through the window of which her scarlet jacket caught the eyes of the boys paddling about on the river in those early days when Cyprian Eveleth gave it the name of the Fire-hang-bird's Nest.
The light fell softly but clearly on the dim and faded canvas from which looked the saintly features of the martyred woman, whose continued presence with her descendants was the old family legend.
But underneath it Myrtle was surprised to see a small table with some closely covered object upon it. It was a mysterious arrangement, made without any knowledge on her part.
"Now, then, Kitty!" Mr. Lindsay said.
Kitty ***an, who had evidently been taught her part, stepped forward, and removed the cloth which concealed the unknown object. It was a lifelike marble bust of Master Byles Gridley.
"And this is what you have been working at so long,--is it, Clement?"Myrtle said.
"Which is the image of your protector, Myrtle?", he answered, smiling.
Myrtle Hazard Lindsay walked up to the bust and kissed its marble forehead, saying, "This is the face of my Guardian Angel."
