Stowe was always interested to observe
the benevolent work going on about her and to lend a hand if it were
possible. One incident flavored with a strong touch of the ludicrous
still lingers in my memory. We had fallen in somewhere with a poor
little waif of a boy, one easily to be recognized by the practiced eye
of to-day as a good specimen of the street Arab. This little being was
taken up by us and brought home. His arrival was looked upon with
horror by the servants, who recognized existing facts and foresaw
future miseries veiled from our less educated vision. A visit to the
bathroom was at once suggested; but as none of the house maidens
offered to take charge of the business, Mrs. Stowe announced herself
as more than equal to the occasion, and proceeded to administer the
first bath probably ever known to that specimen of the human family.
Hawthorne's clasping the leprous child was but a shadow compared to
that hour, but happily Mrs. Stowe was not Hawthorne and she combed and
scrubbed faithfully.
I cannot recall the precise ending of the tale. I can only remember
the whole house being aroused at some unearthly hour of that night by
the child's outcries, from his unusual indulgence in a good supper,
and Mrs. Stowe's amusement at the situation. She declared the
household was far better constituted to look after young cherubim than
young male humans. Something of the canary-bird order would be much
more in its line, she said.
Pages:
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164