Worcester daily spy. [volume] (Worcester [Mass.]) 1850-1888, 1859-08-18


this garrett is watching you, and thanking you
Not that this goodness of yours seeks reward
but there must be comfort in the faith that you
are doing a double good here in your humble
way-to Gussy, and to Gussy's mother. We
were by good Rachel, though you saw us not
when those big red hands of yours drew with
a tenderness of heart that made them light as
any lady's, the thorns from poor Gussy's feet.
But there will be thorns in them again to-
morrow, and again the day after, till the flesh
has hardened, and can resist them. AS Gus
sy's soul is to harden, as Gussy's muscles are
to harden.
We call Gussy to mind years after we
glanced into his dreary bedroom after Rachel
had been discharged for giving a slice OF bread
and sugar to her little master; after the neigh
borhood in which Mr.. Marbell lived rung with
shouts OF Indignation against Gussy's father.
Mr.. Marbell had retired from business at
length in order to devote all his energies to
the hardening of Gussy. That he might SUI
perintend the icy GOODNESS of his nursery the
scantness of his bed-covering the plainness
of his food; his isolation from other boys.
Day after day, Gussy, barefooted, without hat
or cap, his throat open, and his hair cropped
ctose to his skull, passed our gate, walking,
or rather ambling, behind his ia her. We fail
to call to MUD an occasion on which we saw
father and son exchange a syllable. Mr.. Mar
bell, with solemn expression, to which the
brandishing of a substantial crab stick gave in
tensity of an unpleasantly suggestive kind,
walking rapidly ahead always and Gussy,
looking at the parental coat-tails, and never re-
moving his eyes from them, ambed, as we
have written, after him. The throat of Gussy
was milky white still, the cheeks red as car
nation. Old women turned upon Mr.. Marbell
as he passed young women turned upon Mr..
MarbolI ba naSsa1 and cpnEe nc otal1
the nature of their womanhood overbearing
their sense of propriety. Nicknames of most
offensive import were showered upon Gussy s
father. He was a child-killer; he was Old
Tombstone )" he bore, successfully, the name
of every remarkable murderer known to the
street-folk about his neighborhood. He was
Kissed, booted at and greeted with a gymnas-
tic arrangement of little boys fingers, the
thumb acting as a fulcrum against the little
BOYS noses But both Mr.. Marbell and Gussy
passed through the fusillade, without glancng
to the right or left.
We were standing at our gate one day, on
glowing summer morning. There was pale
heat film over the deep blue sky. The heat
struck us under the chin from the burning
earth We felt that we could not bear the
situation many minutes. Lazily heat-oppress-
ed, we were about to turn from the dusty
prospect without, when Mr.. Marbell walked
past, at his usual pace, and Gussy was behind
him-still ambling-his eye still fixed upon
the parental coattails.
The blazing sun was scorching Gussey's
uncovered head, we were certain; his lips
were white, and we thought the blood almost
oozed through those two red spots npon his
cheeks We were tempted to dash through the
gate, and seize Mr.. Marbell by the collar, and
take his hat and boots off, and drag him to a
barber to have his head shaved. But chow
prudent we become at five-and thirty y we
turned homeward and left Gussy to be scorch-
ed by the sun, and still, with starting eyes, to
follow the coat-tails Of his father.
On the following day sweet little friend of
ours, whose voice makes us twenty again,
whom there are 'few to praise, and whom
there shall be, if we have our way, very few
indeed to praise-this little friend came trip
ping along the gravel walk from the gate to
the house, ard trying to look over the migni-
onette-box at our open window lat which we
were proving by statistics, that the ruin of
Manchester was only question of years, un-
less we built our houses flat for the future, and
reared cotton crops, under glass, upon them),
called to u.s. We dropped all our our figures
within, to look upon the neatest most convinc-
ing little figure without.
Mr.. Marbell had just passed, walking as fast
as ever, but little Gussy was not with him.
To work went the brains of both us. We
called To mind, looking very seriously indeed
at each other, the dry lips and the hectic flush
of Yesterday. The lhtle figure had very
grave head upon it now We watched anx-
iously on the morrow on the third day more
anxiously still On the third day Mr.. Marbell
passed, walking slower than usual. There
was some heavy bullying object in his coat-tail
pocket-the very coat-tail upon which little
Gussy's eyes had been fixed so long.-We
jumped to the right conclusion-the bullying
objects were bottles of physic for little Gussy.
Upon the straw palliasse i'll the empty room
lay Mr.. Marbell's little Spartan. Doctors
grave, pale faces were shaken over the thin
limbs, and watched the weird brilliancy of the
boys eyes. He was hardened hardened
against all the iron trials Mr.. Marbell had pro-
vided for him in after days. Those little
shoulders would never overbear neighbor.
The soul dying here, still bondage, was not,
we know, steeled yet. The outstretched arms
of an invisible, dead mother were over this
straw palliasse and were about to clasp little
Gussy, who repnes not; whose CLASSY eyes
falls kindly upon the rude parent, whose brutal
theory has cast him upon a chld's death-bed ;
the rude parent, who, within his memory, has
never kissed him.
We shall never forget little Gussy's funeral.
1t is well the police were there, or Mr.. Marbell
nau NOT Deen alive now 10 tell any IIleHuj WHO
may drop in to take glass of wine with him,
how his theory of making children trough it,
failed in Gussy's instance.
The baby's place is upon its mothers knee !;
the child's place is between its fathers knees,
whence it may look up into its eyes, and sun
itself in their kind glances. There are theo-
ries without number developing elaborate sys-
TENS of juvenile culture. There are gentle
men in white neckcloths we know of, who be-
lieve that model men may be built up like any
engineering models, by strict rule, by hours of
study exactly measured, by the reading of
ponderous moral treatises. So Mr.. Marbell
believed Gussy might be made hard, success
full man land successful man was Mr.. Mar
BELLS beau-ideal Of humanity by rough usage,
beggarss cupboard and a tramp's out door
experiences, But, we own, as it is our plea
sure to believe many will own with us, that
we are rather with Mrs. Marbell, and with
Rachel also. Our theory is that of making
ourselves the familiar friends and most tender
counsellors of children. The world will hard
en- them soon enough, but the less the better,
in our humble oninion.