Sacramento daily record-union. [volume] (Sacramento [Calif.]) 1875-1891, 1882-11-06
LITTLE RACHEL.

LITTLE RACHEL.
From I" Our Village; Sketches of Rural Charac.
ter and Scenery" by Mary Russell Milford As an
other Illustration Of the mistakes which the most
able editors will sometimes make, it may be men,
TONED that the Ms. of " Our Village was offered
to Thomas Campbell, then editing the Nelc Monthly
Magazine, and rejected BY him.
In one of the wild hooks of heath land,
which are set 80 pIettily amidst our richly
timbered valleys, stands the cottage of
Robert Ford, an industrious and substantial
blacksmith. There is striking appearance
OF dingy comfort about the whole demesne,
forming as it does sort of detached and
isolated territory il the midst of the unin.
closed common by which it is surrounded
The ample garden, whose thick, dusty,
quickest hedge runs along the highroad |;
the snug cottage, whose gable end Adults on
the causeway the neat court, which parts
the house from the long, low.browed shop
and forge and the stable, car shed. and
piggeries behind, have all an air of rustic
opulence ; even the clear, irregular pond,
half covered with ducks and geese that ad.
joins, and the old pollard oak, with a mile
stone leaning against it, that overhangs the
dwelling, seem in accordance with its con-
sequence and character, and give finish and
harmony to the picture.
The inhabitants were also in excellent
keeping. Robert Ford, stout, hearty,
middle-aged man, sooty and grim as COL
her, paced backward and forward between
the house and the forge with the step OF a
man of substance-his very leather apron
had an air of importance his wife Dinah,
merry, comedy woman, sat at the open
door, in an amplitude of cap and gown and
handkerchief, darning an eternal worsted
stocking, and hailed the passers.by with
the cheerful freedom of one well to do in
the world and their three sons, we'll.
grown laos from sixteen to twenty, were
the pride of the village for industry and
good humor-to say nothing of their hered.
ltary love of cricket. On Sunday, when
they had on their best clothes and cleanest
faces, they were the handsomest youths in
the parish. Robert Ford was proud of his
boys, as well he might, and Dinah was still
prouder.
Altogether it was happy family and a
pretty scene; especially of an evening,
when the forge was at work, and when the
bright freight shone through the large I'M.
glazed window, illuminating with its
strange, red, unearthly light the group
that stood round the anvil showers of
sparks flying from the heated iron, and
the loud strokes of the sledge. hammer re-
sounding over all the talking and laughing
of the workmen, REINFORCED by three or
four idlers who were lounging about the
shop. It formed a picture which, in a
summer evening, we could seldom pass
without stopping to contemplate beside,
| had a roadside acquaintance with Mrs.
Ford, had taken shelter in her cottage
from thunder storms and snow-storms, and
even by daylight could not walk by with
out friendly "How dye do %
Late in last autumn we observed an
addition to the family, in the person of a
pretty little shy lass OF some eight years
old, fair, slim, sma!l-boned child, with
delicate features, large blue eyes, soft
color, light shining hair, and remarkable
neatness in her whole appearance. She
seemed constantly busy, either sitting on
low stool by Dinah's side at needle.work,
or gliding about the kitchen, engaged in
some household employment-for the wide
open door generally favored the passengers
with q full view of the interior, from the
fully stored bacon rack to the nicely swept
hearth and the little girl, if she perceived
herself to be looked at, would slip behind
tie clock. case, CT creep under the dresser
to avoid notice. Mrs. Ford, when ques.
toned as to her new inmate, said that she
was her husbands niece, the daughter of
younger brother, who had worked some-
where London-way, and had died lately,
leaving a widow with eleven children in
distressed circumstances. She added that,
having no girl OF their own, they
had taken little Rachel for good and
all and Wanted much of her hardness,
her seamstresship, and her scholarship,
how she could read chapter with
the parish clerk, or make shirt with the
schoolmistress. Hereupon che called her
to display her work, which was indeed ex-
traordinary for so young needle. woman /;
and would fain have had her exhibit her
other accomplishment of reading, but the
poor little maid hung down her head, and
blushed up to her white temples, and al.
most cried, and though too frightened to
run away, shrapk back, till she was fairly
hidden behind her portly aunt; so that
that performance was perforce pretermit-
ted. Mrs. Ford was rather scandalized at
this shyness, and expostulated, coaxed and
scolded, after the customary fashion on
such occasions. Shamefacedness was, ="
she said, "Rachel's only fault, and she be.
lieved the child could not help it. Her
uncle and cousins were as fond OF her as
fond could be, but she was afraid of them
all, and had never entered the shop since
there she had BEEN Rachel" she added,
twas singular in all her ways, and never
spent farthing on apples or gingerbread,
though she had a bran new sixpence which
her uncle had given her for hemming his
cravats. She believed that she was saving
it to send home"
A month passed away, during which
time, from the mere habit of seeing US
frequently, Rachel became so far tanned as
to behold me and my usual walking COM
panion without much dismay; would drop
her little curtsey without coloring so very
deeply, and was even won to accept bun
from that dear companions pocket, and to
answer yes or no to his questions.
At the end of that period, as we were
returning home in the twilight from a
round of morning visits, we perceived a
sort of confusion in the forge, and heard
loud sounds of scelding from within the
shop, mixed with bitter lamentations from
without. On nearer approach, we dis
covered that the object in distress was an
old acquaintance, young italian boy, such
wanderer from the Lake of Como as he
whom Wadsworth has addressed SO beau
tifully:
"Or on thy head to poise show
OF plaster craft in seemly row;
The grace full form of milk white steed,
Or bird that scared with Ganynede
Or through our hamlets thou wilt bear
The sightless Milton with his hair
Around his placid temples eurled,
And Shakespeare at his side freight,
If clay could think and mind were weight,
For him who bore the world !"
He passed US almost every day, carrying
his tray full of images into every quarter
Of the village We had often wondered
how he could find vent for his commodities ;
but our farmers wives patronize that
branch OF art !; and Stefano, with his light
firm step, his upright carriage, his dancing
eyes, and his broken English, was uni
versal favorite.
At present the poor boys keen Italisn
features and bright dark eyes were disfg.
ured by crying; and his loud wailings and
southern gesticulations bore witness to the
extremity of his distress. The cause of his
grief was visible in the half empty tray
that rested on the window of the forge, and
the green parrot which lay in fragments on
the footpath. The wrath OF Robert Ford
required some further explanation, which
the presence of his worship instantly
brought forth, although the enraged black.
smith was almost too angry to speak in
telligibly.
1t appeared that his youngest and ia.
vorite son, William, had been chaffering
with Stefano for this identical green parrot,