The Story of a Life Part 11

As to her success in school work at Melbourne, we shall content ourselves with letting the consul speak a good word for her, then relate a little incident.

Geo. R. Latham to Mrs. Carr: "Knowing the respectable character of the colleges in the United States of which you are a graduate, and feeling a lively appreciation of your thorough education, finished accomplishments, and intellectual and moral worth, and learning that you have opened a select school for young ladies in this city (Melbourne) I most gladly consent to the use of my name as reference."

The terms per quarter for board and tuition were from 18-18-0 to 10-10-0. Mrs. Carr taught the following: "English Literature, Mathematics, Natural Science and all English branches usually taught, Italian, French, German, Pianoforte, Guitar, Drawing and Painting, Leather Work, Wax Flowers." She was the only teacher and, we may conclude, had her hands full!

[Ill.u.s.tration: Port Elliott--Farthest Point South]

The anecdote we referred to, related to one of Mrs. Carr's pupils, Ettie Santo. Her father, Philip Santo, lived in South Australia. He was a member of Parliament;[11] and a rich iron monger. He dealt largely in imported agricultural implements. He had the same love of family that Thomas Magarey exhibited; every day at three he would go out to his splendid residence in the suburbs, and play an hour with his children.

Then after exercising, he would go to the library. After tea he wrote and read two hours, then a.s.sembled the family for Bible-reading and prayer. Ettie boarded with Mrs. Carr. It was the first time she had stayed away from home. She was a very quiet, undemonstrative girl. Her father came to Melbourne to visit her. One day he showed Mrs. Carr a letter he had received from his daughter before his arrival. In the body of the letter was this sentence:

"Father, I love you; I have never told you so; I can write it better than I can speak it."

This is narrated as an ill.u.s.tration of Mrs. Carr's educational ideas. To bring love into being; or, as in the case of this n.o.ble-minded girl, where love already existed, to give that love a voice--to teach faithful service and strengthen holy aspirations, these were her imparted lessons. The soul which could not receive them might be hardened against her, but nevertheless she sowed the seed; with her, teaching was a religious exercise.

At this busy time, while Mrs. Carr had her girls, and Mr. Carr his boys, to say nothing of a thousand outside duties to be performed, a character entered their lives like a good fairy. Janie Rainey was born and reared in Scotland. Her sister married a "gentleman" that is to say, a man of means, and for a time Janie lived with them. But it soon became borne in upon her that her brother-in-law looked upon her as a burden to his household. She knew a Presbyterian minister in Melbourne, who, in answer to her letter, encouraged her to come to Australia, where she could find plenty of work. She made the long voyage, and found asylum in his house, until she should find regular employment.

One day she appeared at the house in Barclay Terrace. Beneath her sunbonnet was to be seen a bright face, and shrewd yet kindly eyes. As she sat in the hall in her plain but scrupulously neat dress, Mrs. Carr was charmed by her Scotch accent, and by her manner of dignified dependence. Janie explained that she had heard Mrs. Carr needed a servant; she had come to keep the house for her, to wash, to cook, to do anything. She was received with joy. As Mrs. Carr afterward said, "It was love at first sight."

Before the Carrs came to Melbourne, Janie had gone to hear Mr. Surber preach. "The first time I heard him," she said, "I knew it didn't sound like the kirk! I could understand him; it was so _plain_!" When she had heard him preach about half a dozen times, she said, "I must confess my faith!" She became an intelligent Christian. She knew a great part of the Bible by heart. "I have read the New Testament all my life," she declared, "and never knew what it meant before."

Janie worked for the Carrs all the time they staid in Melbourne. She regularly attended the Sunday services, the prayer meetings, and the other gatherings of the church. From her wages she gave one s.h.i.+lling every Sunday morning. She read the church papers and the daily papers while the Carrs and their boarders were at breakfast. Her room was kept clean and inviting, and a talk with her was refres.h.i.+ng; seldom did a preacher visit the house, who did not ask to see Janie.

Mrs. Carr would sit in the kitchen to hear Janie read "Bobbie Burns,"

with the proper accent. The servant had seen the places described in the poems; she had known people who had known the poet. She knew anecdotes about him that have never seen the print. She told about a working girl who, on looking into his room, found him stamping upon the floor, and rus.h.i.+ng back and forth like mad; how she had rushed down stairs crying, "He's daft!"--how Burns on hearing the cry exclaimed, "'_Daft!_' the very word I was trying to think of!"--and how he slapped his knees, and fell to writing.

It was Janie's delight to take care of Mr. and Mrs. Carr,--to stand between them and those innumerable details of daily life, that sap the energies, that waste the time, and ward off the essential objects of life for those who have no Janies.

"She would go to market seeking to tempt our appet.i.tes. She would say, 'Oh, you don't eat enough to keep a bird alive!' She petted us. No one regarded her as a servant except herself--but she always held herself to be one. She was, indeed, more of a companion. A beautiful character--one who did her duty because it _was_ duty, and who loved us till we felt that she was one of the family. Her disposition was bright and cheerful. We often found her reading while the kettle boiled, or going about her work with an open book propped upon the kitchen table. One day I went into the kitchen and found her laughing outright. 'What is it, Janie?' 'Oh, I was laughing at what Mark Twain says about the Turkish bath!' What ever concerned us seemed as sacred in her eyes as a religious matter, and she would guard it as her own interests. Hers was a life in which we could see no fault."

A high testimonial to one who serves for years in one's kitchen! A testimonial rarely given, rarely merited. Let this be an excuse, if one is needed, for giving so much s.p.a.ce to the simple maid from Scotland.

Here is one whose soul bursts through the vapors of false pride and unlovely shame that does so much to soil the beauty of the poor. Here is one who recognizes the dignity of service, and who shows by humble acts that mark each hour, she loves her neighbor as herself.

And now that we have one so efficient and willing to admit the visitors, to cook the meals and to do the was.h.i.+ng, let us retire to the library and, without fear of interruption, enjoy a sheaf of letters, which lie before us; not, indeed, drinking them to the very lees, but sipping here and there. Our word for it, if the reader be in the mood for mail-opening, he shall not go unrewarded.

Here is a young man writing from the Agricultural College of Kentucky University, whom Carr and Surber have evidently advised to go thither for a Christian education: "I suppose when I told you I would come here to school, you thought I would never come. After hard work I got to England, and I worked hard before I got here; but when there is a craving for an education, no toil or labor will hinder that young man. I come to study the scriptures, to be able to go into the world to preach the Gospel. I work five hours in the A. & M. College on the farm, and the machine shop. I got to this place without one cent of money. What do you think my first work here was? Dropping potatoes--Sir; yes, sir!"

J. B. Myers to Mrs. Carr: "I promised to tell you about the changes in Lancaster," (from which we may glean a little local coloring of Mattie's old home.) "The railroad runs right by the old Methodist church, out by the cemetery; indeed, it took away one corner of the old brick building.

The pa.s.senger depot is on the Crab Orchard pike." (Then he enumerates all the new houses on the various pikes, tells what girls are going to "set out," and remarks that he pays more attention to ladies since his sister's departure.)

"I am still in the old room over Brother Sweeney's store! I have furnished it up with a $30 bookcase, etc. I have resigned my position in the Male Academy to teach a public school no more forever! I can't live that way--too much time consumed in watching the pupils, and making them keep order,--and the rest of my time, too worried to throw my soul into the work, and give efficient instruction. I begin a private cla.s.s of about 20 choice boys, right away." Then about some who have died; some who have married; a foolish young girl who has kept her marriage a secret; and a poor gentleman who is growing too fleshy, and the fond hope that--"When you and Ollie come back to old Kentucky, you must keep house, and I will board with you!" "A year of your absence is about gone. May the three pa.s.s speedily! Yea, let them all pa.s.s rapidly that you and Ollie may be returned to me. How I love you my dearest sister!

Tell Ollie I love him; too, and am proud of him!" (Very different does Brother Joe talk, now that he no longer stands hatless upon the pike, stopping our stage coach!)

Here is a letter from our blacksmith, Eneas Myall: "I would not think of writing to you; but I know what it is to be far from home, and the pleasure of receiving a letter when among strangers; and besides, it is my duty to answer your letter. I regret very much that you did not get to see any of my folks when you were in England. I wish you could see more of England. I am satisfied it is the greatest opening for primitive Christianity in the world. Ollie, this will be rather a broken letter as I am talking, selling and writing all at the same time. We are getting along religiously, as well as common. It looks a little odd to see your father and mother attending church; but we are all glad to see it. Your father is always in his place, and so is your mother, when she can get there. And let me tell you, you are not forgotten in our prayers. We hardly ever have a meeting that you are not bidden G.o.d's speed. Brother Bartholomew of Philadelphia was here, raising money to sustain a missionary in that city! Not very many were present, so our contribution of $60 was quite liberal, I a.s.sure you. Our envelope system is working-well." (Introduced into May's Lick Church by O. A. Carr, who visited personally every member and gave each fifty-two envelopes in which to place the promised weekly offering for a year).

"And now, Ollie, as I am about to close--if we meet never again here, let us meet in Heaven. Let us be faithful to our G.o.d. My faith bids me go forward in the uns.h.i.+rking discharge of my duty, and the promise will be mine. All the Myalls send their love to you and your lady. Now, farewell for the present. G.o.d bless you both." Thus the blacksmith who beats his money out of iron to spread the Gospel--writing, talking, selling, all at once--the hammer in his hand, G.o.d in his heart.

Miss Mary Whittington writes from Daughters' College, and we should find interest in a picture of the scene where Mattie Myers received her education; "I have a faint idea of how you feel, Mattie, off there in Australia, for I took a four weeks' trip to Illinois, and cried to get back to President Williams and the college. You need a correspondent like myself, to give you little suggestive trifles of the college life.

We have a baby here, wonderful, blue-eyed and spiritual, not a girl, alas! but a boy--Prince Whittington Williams--the 'Whittington' is for an old maid who, having no children of her own, is thankful when people sometimes name them for her--the writer, in a word. Mattie, I hear the supper bell; I'll run down and eat some battercakes, and drink a cup of coffee--don't you wish you could hear the supper-bell once more?

"Well, I had my supper in the same dining-room where you drank tea, and dieted, of yore, but it was not upon the same old oilcloth, for now we have a table cloth! Moreover the room is neatly carpeted, and the old chairs have been carried into the school rooms to make way for new ones.

The girls' rooms have new carpets _all over_ them--no naked s.p.a.ce under the bed--and have been furnished with neat walnut toilets, and full tin sets for the washstands; and I must not forget the red oil-calico curtains." (The reader must bear in mind that during Mattie's sojourn here, such luxury was unknown.)

"Mrs. Williams is fat and merry. President Williams is also in a flouris.h.i.+ng condition--weighs 160. His flesh makes him very handsome; you ought to have seen him several months ago! The secret is that he has quit tobacco. Dr. Williams is still himself. You would have been convinced of it if you had heard him this morning at church-time, when he came storming into the library, crying out, 'Where's Mary? I don't intend waiting any longer on anybody! Is she trying to keep me waiting another half hour?' And there I had been hiding behind the door half an hour, waiting for him! It did me good to rise up, and tell him so."

Here is a letter from our friend Albert Myles, who carried Oliver away from his sick room in Lexington to hold a meeting at Ghent: "When you bade me goodby in Cincinnati about one year ago,"--(how short it seems!

and now, how far away!)--"you remember that my health was very bad.

Well, it grew from bad to worse, till I lay at death's door. At Crab Orchard Springs I rallied, and grew steadily better until October 20th, 1868, when I--I--what shall I say?--I married! Yes, that was the day that gave me my Ellen for my wife. Two weeks later we took charge at the Mt. Sterling church, where we are still doing what we can in a small and humble way. * * * I could see you two as you braved the dangers of the Irish Channel, and took the long voyage to Australia. I could see you as you star-gazed and moon-gazed; as you promenaded the deck; as you sat and sang with the guitar; as you read and prayed in the raging storm. As you say, none but G.o.d can know what you suffered on that voyage; but it is a precious thought that He _does_ know.

"Ol., I gather the following impression from your answer regarding my coming out to Australia, 1. Melbourne is the best field in Australia. 2.

This field is supplied. 3. Adelaide is supplied by Gore, Earl and others. 4. New Zealand is in danger of a war with the natives, the issue of which is doubtful without help from the government. 5. Whoever accepts the 80 must go to New Zealand. With these facts before me, to be honest, it does not appear to me that Australia is more in need of preachers than many places in the United States.

"In New York, there are only about 400 Disciples; in Philadelphia, only about 300; while in Baltimore, Cincinnati, Chicago, St. Louis and San Francisco, which will average about 25,000 population, there is scarcely an average of 100 Disciples; moreover, in many rural communities, we have not even been heard of! In California are thousands of Chinese who are actually wors.h.i.+ping-idols! It occurs to me, that men who love the ancient order of things, are as much needed here as in Australia. You say also, that the manner of wors.h.i.+p there is different from what it is here. This being so, one would have to spend some time preparing himself for the changed condition. If I know my own heart, I never wanted to do anything so much in my whole life, as to go to Australia; but the more I think of the matter, the more firmly I am convinced that if one goes to Australia at all, he ought to make up his mind to stay there. J. C.

Keith" (the other member of our "Trio") "has succeeded in getting a comfortable house of wors.h.i.+p built in Louisville. He is doing well." (We have a purpose for presenting Mr. Myles' objections to going to Australia, which will be developed later).

Another letter from brother Joe, written in May, 1868, and of more than transient interest: "The last spike on the Union Pacific Railroad was driven last Monday. Thousands of faces are turning Westward, where large farms can be bought for small prices. New York and San Francisco are at last united by a mammoth railroad that spans the continent. While the last spike was being driven, telegraphic wires were in connection with all the larger cities, and at each stroke of the hammer, the wires rang signal bells from the Atlantic to the Pacific. As I read the accounts of the great demonstrations, of processions and bonfires, my own breast caught the spirit of the age of great enterprises, and I felt like seeking my fortune amid the rich prairies of the West. But then, I thought, man's life does not consist in the things he possesses; so I am resolved to be content in my Old Kentucky Home! I feel inexpressible satisfaction in the thought that while teaching boys, I am exerting a purifying and elevating influence,--an influence that will mould society, and tinge its religious, literary and charitable inst.i.tutions, long after this heart has ceased to beat. O, what a privilege is ours, Mattie, of setting in motion waves of eternal blessing! How strange that the great ma.s.s of mankind neglect such opportunities!

"We are now agitating the question of the removal of the Capitol from Was.h.i.+ngton. If the Union remains undivided, such a step will be made sooner or later. But wherever they put the Capitol, _my_ home shall be three miles from Stanford on the Crab Orchard pike! I like to think how I am going to fill one cellar with choice apples to roast by the winter fires. Wilt come and see us, and help peel and eat, while we talk of Australia? And what rich cider for you and brother Ollie! And there is the garden--oh, what a variety of vegetables! we'll store them away in the other cellar, and keep them for you. And if you should happen to come back home in strawberry time! Cake, cream, berries--oh, you must not think of staying longer than three years! Counting six months for going and coming, and three years for active service in Melbourne, you'll get here in August, 1871. Well, we can visit the Crab Orchard Springs together--they are only distant a short buggy-ride of eleven miles on the smooth pike--and we can take a jug along and bring it back full. You say it will be too warm? But remember, we have a good ice house. Then what a fine lot of chickens and eggs we will have and * * *"

But by this time sister Mattie is weary of cleaning off her spectacles, and puts her head upon her arm in that far-away Barclay Terrace, and gives it up, gives it all up for the time--with faithful Janie to ward off visitors. Oh, brother Joe, how could you!"

Do you remember the English Murbys who carried the Carrs away from their splendid hotel in London, and established the missionaries in their own house? Here is a note from Mrs. Murby:

"I often take up my alb.u.m to look at you both. I think over again the events of the few days we spent together so pleasantly. I always regret your time with us was so short; but we hope to give you a hearty welcome again in old England." (Strange how everything dear to us is "old!" It should be a comforting thought to grandparents.)

"You overrate any little attentions we may have given you. It was a great pleasure for us to make your acquaintance. Our brother" (the Chicago merchant) "returned to the land of his adoption the month after you left. Willie is a bonnie lad now, nearly eighteen months old. Nellie is over four, and quite a little companion for me." (Let us trust she, too, will find primroses in the streets of London).

If you would like a photographic representation of Kentucky University life, do not skip this letter from J. H. Stover. It is nothing to our purpose who the author may be; but he has succeeded in laying before us not a description of that college life, but the life itself. Here is the scene in which Oliver, as a student, so often mingled, and which Mattie, as a visitor, so often looked upon; Lexington in the month of June.

Faded, almost gone, are many of the words, but when we rescue them from threatening oblivion, they throb again with the _actual_, which throbs best in trivialities.

"Our exhibition went off last night. Brother J. B. Jones gave his first oration before the public; it was well delivered throughout. The valedictory was by W. A. Oldham, who did the best I ever heard him.

Milligan, McGarvey, Meng, Wilkes, etc., sat upon the rostrum. The ladies had helped decorate the house with cedar, etc., very tastefully. Robt.

Milligan has just got him a new coat and pair of boots. He has laid aside that old coat which he used to wear, even the first year. He has a new hat, too, but he still keeps on the same old shawl. He comes into chapel with his hand to his head, as of old. He did not have his usual sick spell this spring. The last time we met, he told us that we were to have vacations from our duties, 'but, young brethren,' he said, 'there is no vacation in the school of Jesus Christ, our adorable Redeemer.'

"Brother McGarvey is just the same--same old coat. I went down to the dormitory this morning and, as usual, there were about half a dozen boys standing before Morton's bookstore. They were discussing who had the best speech, and showed the best delivery, at the Exhibition, last night. Brother Jonathan M. came out and said, 'Good morning, young gentlemen!' in that tone bordering on sharpness, as usual." (What a keen observer! We should dread to wear our old coat where he could see us!)

"Brother Myles is here. So is Miss Ella Allen. They were together last night, but I know nothing farther than when you left." (The reader has already seen what _that_ came to.) "Professor Neville, W. T. Moore and uncle d.i.c.k Bishop have gone to Europe. Professor was excited to death.

It was his long-looked for trip. He bought him a new suit of clothes, for the trip. He looked funny in his sack coat. Professor White looks just the same, except his hair is longer. Those same old shoes with holes in the toes, he still wears. His hat, turned down before, and up behind, hangs on the peg on the post yet, during recitation-time. The boys, as of old, went to the board, 'fizzed' and took their seats when he said, 'That is sufficient, I believe!' When I went up to him this morning to inquire my standing, he looked into that _same book_. He told me I had finished the Junior. As I went out the door, I slapped my thigh. Don't a fellow feel good when he studies hard, and does better than he looked for! Alex. Milligan still walks as fast as ever, and the bald place on the back of his head is none the smaller. He is doing well in his book store. Brother McGarvey told me this morning to tell you he would write soon. I heard from Jim Keith a few days ago. He is doing well! Miss Whitie Hocker graduated at the Sayer Inst.i.tute last week. Our Sunday-school had a festival about two months ago to which the Midway Orphan School was invited. The Bible school was dismissed. McGarvey and Wilkes managed it. I think it was after you left that John Morgan's remains were brought here and interred. There was a very long procession. As I was walking down the street, today, I met J. B. Bowman in his old buggy, behind that same old black, bobtailed mare. He was driving very fast as usual. Next I met Prof. Pickett. Although it was a very hot day, he had that coat b.u.t.toned up to his chin. He had that same black cane, and he saluted me in fine military style, then walked on as fast as possible. I met the old darkey who took care of G. L. Surber's room the first year. He wanted to know if I had heard from 'Ma.s.sa Green Surbah.' I saw old man White with whom you used to board. He still has the grocery on the corner; Kate isn't married yet. He still swings his hands as he walks, and ducks his head forward as usual. Brother Lowber came up and said, 'Well, here is Brother Stover; how _do_ you come on, Brother Stover?' I think he has asked me that same question four times this morning, with the same smile. He is a very warm and affectionate friend.

"I saw Bob Neal next. He wore his hat as you remember. Jerry Morton nodded his head at me as he went by. d.i.c.k Stohl stopped me to ask where he could find a Horace, and Cottingham called to me from across the street. As I came home, I met Brother Lard returning from Winchester in his buggy; he had 25 additions there. At the table, Brother V. P. told me his prayers were frequently in your behalf. Dear brother Ollie, if I have succeeded in interesting you with these trifles, I am repaid for my long letters. Give Mattie my love, and tell her I claim kin with her."

(Which letter, we fear, leaves Oliver about as homesick as J. B. Myers'

left Mattie.)

True to his promise, here comes a letter from Prof. J. W. McGarvey: "We published your letter, and a call for packages in the _Apostolic Times_, and have received, in response, enough books, pamphlets and newspapers to fill a medium-sized goods box; we will s.h.i.+p them soon. We now have a circulation of nearly 4,000 for the _Apostolic Times_. I received a copy of your tract, and noticed it in the paper. Innovationists have become rampant among us; they expected to run over our Brother Franklin by affecting superior knowledge, but the _Times_ cannot be frowned down in that way. We hope to fill a gap in the ranks of the faithful. You are right in not encouraging the brethren to send to America for preachers while neglecting useful men at home. Teach them to encourage young men of promise. Some changes have occurred in the University. Brother Pickett resigned his presidency of the Agricultural College, and it was offered Brother Errett. The chances are, however, that Errett will take a chair of Bible study, just created at Bethany. He will probably give up the _Standard_, and it will die. It has never more than paid expenses. Brother Graham has resigned to take the presidency of the new female college of which Brother Hocker is proprietor. John Augustus Williams has been elected President of the College of Arts. You both have a large and warm place in the hearts of thousands of the saints.

The Lord be with you."

Another note from the Australian student, now at the University: "I am now engaged in the selling of books in the vacation: my object is to make enough money to pay my way through Bible College. My board cost me nothing, for I am stopping at the home of Dr. W. H. Hopson. I suppose by this time you have received the books, magazines, etc., from President Milligan. I preach occasionally at Providence and Bethany. Cannot some of our young brethren in Australia come out here and prepare themselves to preach to poor dying sinners? They may say they cannot pay the pa.s.sage; but if they love the Lord, they will come, and work their way through."

The following is from Mrs. Carr to her brother: "How my heart blesses you, for almost every mail brings us cheer from your pen! If it be the will of G.o.d that we ever again see each other face to face, you will know how grateful I am. You would laugh if you could see us running to the door at the ringing of the postman, or leaping from our seats at the cry of--'_Arrival of the British Mail!_' We have many dear friends here, but a word from Kentucky carries our hearts back in a mighty rush, and all is lost in the old and tried affections of home. Forget you, did you say? Ah, we could not if we would. Come back to you, did you say?

a.s.suredly, if it is G.o.d's will. When I come back, brother, I want to sit in your lap, and with my arms about your neck, tell you of my little trials, and of my many, very many abiding joys. Ollie's health and mine, is not good as when we first came here; we fear it may be due to the climate. Ollie is so upright, so gentle and kind to me, that I have strength to bear everything.