Reading books romantic stories you will plunge into the world of feelings and love. Most of the time the story ends happily. Very interesting and informative to read books historical romance novels to feel the atmosphere of that time.'Smiles' by Eliot H. Robinson (ebook reader with android os txt) đź“–
- Author: Eliot H. Robinson
- Performer: -
Book online «'Smiles' by Eliot H. Robinson (ebook reader with android os txt) 📖». Author Eliot H. Robinson
"Frankly, I don't know," responded Donald. "Since I read her letter I have been asking myself that question, and the answer worries me, since I feel in a way responsible for having opened the gates before her untrained feet. Somehow I cannot disassociate little Rose from her present environment, and, although she certainly has an unusual charm for such a child, I must admit that, in part, at least, it was the result of—no, not that, but made more obvious by—her surroundings."
"Well, she has apparently decided to take the moulding of her life into her own hands and, without knowing the quotation, determined to be 'the master of her fate and captain of her soul.' However, a little more education can scarcely hurt her, and, if she succeeds in saving up some money, it will come in handy enough as a 'dot,' in case she marries your friend, Judd Amos, and raises a family of mountain brats."
Donald's reply was unnecessarily positive.
"I'll wager that she'll never do that." And with that the conversation, as far as it concerned Smiles, ended.
During purloined hours in the next few days the eminently successful young physician might have been seen engaged in strange errands, which took him into such places as a dressmaker's establishment, and several stores which sold textbooks. It was also a noteworthy fact that the decidedly soiled and crumpled ten-dollar bill, with which he had been commissioned to purchase the means through which education might be acquired, was never taken from the special compartment in his bill folder.
Then the flood of fall practice engulfed him, and gradually the memory of little Smiles faded from his busy mind, although it never quite vanished, and from time to time fresh breezes from the distant Cumberlands fanned it to life like a glowing ember.
I
Commonwealth Avenue
Boston, Massachusetts.
September 15, 1912.
Dear little Smiles:
If you had been able to look inside of my heart when I opened your present and read your letter, you would have beheld as many different lights and shadows there as you can see in your own eyes when you look in the glass over your bureau.
The sight of that little jar, and the scent of the spiced rose-petals, brought you so near to me that I thought I could almost see you by just closing my eyes—which may seem to you a funny way of "seeing" a person. It made me very happy.
The letter, too, pleased me a great deal; but I must tell you that it also troubled me. That is when the shadow fell on my thoughts of you.
The reason? I will tell it to you, because I feel that I should, although please do not think that I want to croak like an old black crow in one of your pine trees.
If you have really set your whole heart upon becoming a nurse when you grow up, and your granddaddy has consented, it is not for me to say that you cannot do it. But I do know the path which you must travel. I know that it is much steeper, much more rocky and full of briary bushes than any one your feet have ever climbed on your mountain, and you will have to keep a very brave little heart inside you, if you hope to reach the summit. And then, if you succeed, instead of finding a fairy castle filled with all sorts of pleasant things, you will only discover another long and weary road which must be traveled until your tired little body, and heart, made heavy by the sufferings of little children, long for the quiet restfulness of your dear old mountain home.
Am I still trying to discourage you? I suppose that I am, for, you see, I can look back along that road which lies before you, and I can remember the rocks I had to climb over, and the bushes I had to struggle through, and yet I know that it was far easier for me than it will be for you.
You have read parables in the Bible. Well, I am preaching a modern parable. "Book learning" is a sword and buckler—or perhaps it would be better to say that it is a suit of strong hunting clothes and thick leather knee-boots, and I was pretty well clad like that when I started my trip, while you are dressed only in thin gingham, with your legs and feet bare—as I first saw you. Please shut your eyes, dear child, and try to see the parable picture I have drawn for you.
Have you done it? The picture is not as pretty as the one I painted the night I told about how fine it was to be a nurse, is it? But it is more nearly true to life.
Now, think hard before you make up your mind as to whether or not you really mean to go ahead, for—after all, little Smiles—each boy and girl has soon to decide, all alone, what he or she is going to do with that strange thing which we call life.
If your courage is really as strong as that of the wonderful Joan of Arc, I, too, believe that you can succeed and make your dream come true, and of course I will help you, gladly—in every way that I can.
Now I am all through preaching. It is out of my line, and I promise not to do it again. Within a few days you will, I hope, get a boxful of the books which I have sent you as you asked me. Most of them are just what you wanted—school books—but on my own hook I added one or two not strictly for study—like plums in a dry bread pudding. And, of course, there is something else in the box and I guess that you can guess what it is.
This, little Smiles, is the longest letter I ever wrote to anybody, I think. Don't you feel proud? It must end now, however; but not before I ask you to give my best regards to your kind granddaddy.
Don't let the cold winter that is coming, chill your warm affection for
Your sincere friend,
Donald MacDonald.
P.S. I told Mike what you wrote to him, and he wigwagged a message of love back to you with his tail.
II
Big Jerry's Cabin
in Webb's Gap, Virginia
Sep't. 20, 1912.
Dear Doctor Mac:
Oh, dear doctor, can you ever forgive me for waiting two whole days before I wrote you back to thank you with all my heart for the many wonderful things which came in that box? It was like a fairy's treasure chest. And most of all I am obliged for that letter you wrote me. It was the first letter I ever got from any one and I shall keep it as long as I live. I think, of all the things I got, I like that the best. Those others you could buy, but you had to make that yourself, and it seemed like I could almost hear you talking the words in your strong voice, like the sound of the falls in the Swift River.
When I looked inside that box I could not make up my mind what I liked best. The many books kind of scared me when I opened them and remembered I had got to know all that much; but the book of beautiful poetry I just love. I have read all of the poetrys and know some of them to speak already.
Then there is that nurse's dress. O how I love it, and how I wish for you to see me in it. I plans to put it on a little while everyday and pretend that I am a real nurse like I am going to be. I done it yesterday, and somehow when I shet my eyes and run my hands over its crackely stiff whiteness, it seemed to me that the room was full of sweet little babies for me to take keer of.
And now, doctor, I must tell you that I done what you said for me to do. I closed my eyes up tight like granddaddy does when I say prayers, and I saw little Smiles acliming that rough path, and walking along that rough road you wrote about, but by the side of that long road I kept aseeing beautiful little flowers what were fading and drooping and calling out in tiny voices like baby chickens for Rose to keer for them. So doctor, the picture did not scare me none.
The Lord give Joan of Arc (I know how to spell it now) a silver armor to protect her, and I reckon the white nurse's dress that you give me is my armor.
Now doctor I must tell you about little Lou and the wonderful doll you sent to her. She was so funny when I give it to her that I got a chreek in my side laughing. First thing, she held it up tight against her and when it went Ma-a-a-like a calf, she dropped it quick and run and hide under the bed. But pretty soon she crep out again and I showed her how to make it shut its eyes.
Then she jumped around and cried. 'O Smiles, hit kaint do them things but hit does do them.' Well, pretty soon, Judd Amos, her brother, come in and, when he saw it in Lou's arms, his face got as black as a storm cloud and he went for to take it away from her.
I just stepped in front of him, and said, 'Judd Amos, if you ever go for to take that doll baby away from her, or even touch it, I won't never speak to you again.'
He was powerful mad with me, but he seen that I meant like I said, so Lou can keep her doll. And what do you think she has named it? She has named it Mike. Even Judd had to laugh a little when she said that was the doll baby's name.
I am making baskets as fast as ever I can and Judd is going to take them to the store at Fayville for me. I went down with him and seen the storekeeper man myself last week, and he promised me to buy all that he can from me.
Granddaddy shoots with your rifle gun most every day. He can hit a string like he used to, but he would not shoot a apple off my head like a man did in the book that had about Joan of Arc in it, although I wanted him to.
I have ritten a piece of poetry like Mr. Eugene Fields did, and this is it
The cold may make my lips turn blue,
But it can't freeze my love for you.
Your happy and loving little friend
Smiles.
III
Commonwealth Avenue
Boston, Massachusetts.
October 24, 1912.
Proprietor of the General Store,
Fayville, ——
Comments (0)