"Helen forced a smile. "I will Mary; and though the streets of M. are not much like our own sea-shore, the path of duty is always pleasant, for the Lord shines upon it." "I think Helen has turned preacher," said Mary to herself, "I never heard her talk in this way before. I wonder if the mill people will mind her. If they don't treat us with proper respect I shall make more dust among them than all the machines that old South talked of. Oh, it is all for want of a little proper spirit that the work people are made slaves of. I can show them a better plan." And the poor child fell asleep to dream of conquests achieved in an imaginary mill. CHAPTER VII SETTING TO WORK. LONG before morning had broke on the dull misty town of M. the widow Green and her family arose to pray, preparatory to the departure of the two girls. Gladly would the aged woman have accompanied them to the innermost scene of their labours, but this, she had been assured, was out of the question. However, to send them alone through the streets was not to be thought of; and after seeing them swallow a few mouthfuls of bread, she took Helen's arm, grasped Mary by the hand, and closely followed by the two boys, who would not remain, softly quitted the house. The air was frosty, and consequently to them more congenial than the foul, dank atmosphere that usually prevailed in those pent-up thoroughfares. It breathed comparative refreshment, and imparted some buoyancy to their spirits. Helen was entering on her future task with a clearer view of its probable evils than any other of the party had taken; but strengthened by a determination to do and to suffer uncomplainingly whatever might be before her. She had spoken truly her prevailing thought when reminding the widow of the cross that every Christian must needs bear, and of their past exemption from all deserving the name. She now realized the daily taking up of that cross, and her only solicitude was to be found following Christ under its burden. She would indeed have preferred any species of drudgery among the rural scenes that floated before her mind's eye, with their endearing recollections, in all the heightened beauty of deep contrast; but had the choice been her's, she would not for one moment have entertained a thought of deserting the post of sacred duty beside her benefactress, for the sweetest delights of her own loved native hamlet. In all Helen's pictures of earthly happiness, that family ever occupied the foreground; and an enjoyment unshared by them was a dream that never entered the affectionate girl's imagination. Poor Mary, who intended to work such wonders in the factories by her unflinching resistance of all aggressive doings, did not feel quite so resolute under the chilling influence of a raw dark morning, as when, in her snug bed, she had watched the flickering candle that cast its ray on the page her grandmother was studying. Gladly would she have been spared the trial that now drew near; but no outward sign of such misgivings was apparent. On the contrary, she endeavoured to trip with a gait as lively as when bounding along the eastern cliff towards old Buckle's shed; but that was impossible. However, she bore up with a sprightly air, frequently turning to cheer her brothers with the promise of bringing home at night a full, true, and particular account of her expected adventures through the day. At length they reached the mill, and there they found a pale, sleepy, little crowd, who, like themselves, were somewhat too early, shivering in the ungenial air. A large lamp was burning over the entrance-gate, and the morning's light had begun to throw a doubtful streak across the sky, blending with its sickly glare. Many curious eyes examined the strangers, and some questions were directed to Mary, whose communicative looks invited them. "You are too smart,” said a little girl, surveying her dress; "I doubt your fine clothes won't hold long." "Fine clothes!" responded Mary, in astonishment. "I never wore fine clothes in my life; and this is my common milking-dress." "It's too good for the mill," rejoined the other; and the bystanders confirmed her lived too long, and seen too much of huassertion, both by their words and appear-man nature, to expect the absence of vice ance. Mary stoutly maintained her ground. "Neatness and cleanliness are never out of place," she said; "they make the poorest child look respectable; and so my granny has often told me." A burst of rude laughter followed this speech, and the voice of a grown lad exclaimed, "You'll soon forget your granny's sayings, and learn things more to the purpose, my fine little madam." The next moment the gate was thrown open, and a sort of rush ensued, in the midst of which the Wrights were seen elbowing their way. Phœbe cast a glance of disdain on her relations as she passed, and took no farther notice. John nodded; but Charles, after apparently overlooking them, and hurrying on, stole back, as if more than half reluctant to have anything to do with them, and in a hesitating manner said, "I promised Sarah to see you in; so come along, for I can't stop a minute." At the door, the widow was told that she must go no farther, unless she had work in the mill: and so great was the press just then, that she scarcely knew how the girls had been disengaged from her retentive grasp, and borne inward by the living tide, while she, with the boys, was obliged to turn back. Leaving to Mary's recital the adventures of the former, we will accompany the latter to their apartment at Wright's, where they hastened to pour forth in earnest prayers the solicitude of their hearts for objects so dear to them, launched on a scene of which they only knew enough to render them more anxiously curious as to its details. The widow felt so many misgivings, that she clung more closely to the assurance of being able to withdraw her children whenever she pleased; and already she was secretly weighing the respective merits of different plans, supposing this to fail, as she could not but fear that it would. The dress, language, demeanour of the young people whom she had seen at the mill-gate, was anything but prepossessing: and the multitude of men and women, but chiefly men, whom she remarked repairing to the different factories, were very unlike what her fancy had pictured of an industrious, thriving population. She had and misery in any class, more especially among the lower orders densely peopling a large town: but that ensnaring pamphlet, with the glowing representations of Mr. Stratton and his friend, had spread a colouring over this particular scene not so easily dispelled, even when the naked reality began to force itself on her unwilling perception, confirming the purport of South's remarks, which she would fain have referred to the promptings of a discontented mind. After a dull breakfast, the two little boys went to talk to Sarah, who was not well enough to leave her bed; and Mrs. Green at once commenced an earnest and serious, though affectionate, remonstrance with her daughter, on the evident neglect of parental duties, which could only issue in the ruin of her children. The representation was silently heard to its closing appeal, which referred to the different line of conduct pursued by the speaker towards her own family when young. "I know that very well, mother," answered the other, somewhat softened; "and I'm sure no children ever had kinder or better parents than we; but a country life makes things come easy enough that one can't think of doing in a town." "If your mean those things that I have alluded to, scriptural teaching, prayer, and watchfulness over the young; surely they are rendered even more necessary where temptations abound, as they plainly do here." "Ay, but you can't keep your eye on the children, as you do in the country." "Supposing it to be so, Sally, ought not that to make you more diligent in teaching them to remember that the eye of God is never withdrawn-that he is ever about their path, and spieth out all their ways; and that no darkness can cover them from his piercing sight?" "It would not be enough that I chose to teach, if they didn't choose to learn." The widow felt that she who uttered this remark was a living illustration of its truth: however, she persevered. "You, my daughter, have one part to perform, they another. God requires of you to point out to your children the way they should go and whether they will hear, | now that we must all appear before the or whether they will forbear, you are bound to tell them their duty." Mrs. Wright grew impatient; she began to fidget, to look at the clock, and to mutter inaudibly: her mother resumed. "My dear child, I will not detain you long; I am about to remove from your house, and our future meetings may not be so frequent as I wish. Only give me this satisfaction before I leave you: promise that you will ask help from above, in the very difficult work you have too long neglected, of correcting and guiding those poor young people." judgment-seat of Christ, to give account of the things done in the body. Oh that I could persuade you, my poor Sally, to taste and see how gracious the Lord is to those who call upon him-how pleasant is that service which you account hard and severe: and what great gain there is in the godliness which you despise !" "Mind me now, mother: if you don't make something of those boys by setting them to work, all the gains of your godliness won't keep you long from beggary." "I intend them to work, because idleness is sinful and dangerous; and because we are bound to seek God's help in the way of honest industry, not that of slothful expectation; but I will not place them "What's the good of asking for what I could not use if I had it?" said she peevishly. "He who gives the help will also enable in a factory yet." you to use it." "Mother, it's all folly to begin now. I have such a set to deal with, that you might as easily turn this old table into gold as alter them for the better. You saw the way that undutiful fellow treated me yesterday." "It was a dreadful scene: but had you commended him and yourself to the divine care for the day? Oh, Sally, had you honoured the Sabbath in God's house and in your own, and, as far as in you lay, constrained your family to do the same, Satan would never have obtained such an advantage here." Mrs. Wright now became irritated: "I'll tell you iny mind fairly, mother; bad as it was, I'd rather have it so than make my house the gloomy place you would wish it to be-filled with long faces, and dismal voices, drawling out melancholy psalms, and texts, and prayers all day long; breaking down the natural spirits of the children." Just then, a sound issued from the other room, of two merry voices carolling a lively rural ditty, accompanied by Sarah's laugh. The widow, considering this the best answer to her daughter's coarse and unjust remarks, remained silent. "Well, mother, I'm sure you mean it all kindly:" said Mrs. Wright, returning from the cupboard, to which she had gone in some haste, "but stay a few weeks, and you'll understand the difference better than you do now.” "Do as you please: you'll find you must." The widow now went to take leave of the poor girl, whom she found looking much more animated, and who welcomed her most eagerly. "Dear granny, I am sorry and not sorry for your going away. I cannot bear to part with you all; but you will be more comfortable in a place of your own." "We will often come to see you, my dear: and now tell me, Sarah, do you know who has afflicted you thus ?" "It was partly done by the machine, ma'am, and partly by the overlooker that used to strap me and kick me, when I used to get too tired to work." A chill crept over the widow as she thought of her dear children; but she went on: "That was not my meaning, my love: who do you think has ordered these afflictions for you?" Sarah remained silent, looking perplexed. Willy said, in a soft tone, "It was God, cousin." "I don't believe it was," she quickly answered, turning her full eyes upon him. "Why not?" said James. "Because Helen Fleetwood told me that God is very good; and I don't think he would order me to be hurt in this way." The two boys looked at their grandmother, who, greatly affected, said, "My dear child, God's mercies often come to us in a very strange shape; and I trust "I cannot understand better than I do you will yet find that even these hurts "Hush!" said the girl, glancing to the door, where her mother now appeared to ask whether a neigbour, who had a leisure hour, should assist in removing the luggage: the offer was gladly accepted, and in another hour the party had entered their new abode. were ordered by his great goodness, for | ing back again, with a huge wheel at the your everlasting benefit." end of each, and a big man turning it with all his might, and a lot of children of all sizes keeping before the frame, going backwards and forwards, piecening and scavenging-why, we all stared yesterday, when that Mr. South said there was no sitting down; but nobody would even think of it. Move, move, everything moves. The wheels and the frames are always going, and the little reels twirl round as fast as ever they can; and the pulleys, and chains, and great iron works over-head, are all moving; and the cotton moves so fast that it is hard to piece it quick enough; and there is a great dust, and such a noise of whirr, whirr, whirr, that at first I did not know whether I was not standing on my head." The table was scarcely spread for dinner before Helen and Mary hastened in, their clothes already somewhat the worse for a few hours wear in a mill, but with fresh colour, smiling faces, and excellent appetites. "Oh how nice," cried Mary, "to have a home of one's own again; and how neat you have made it look!" She was soon assailed with questions, to which she replied, that she liked the mill greatly, but would not begin her story then, as they had only a quarter of an hour out of their dinner hour, some cleaning being required before they went to work again. Accordingly, dinner was soon dispatched, and away they ran, with an alacrity that dissipated much of the widow's uneasi ness. In the evening, Mary commenced her promised recital. "When Charles Wright hurried us away from you, granny, I was so dizzy with the crowd about us that I hardly know how we managed. He behaved civilly, for him, and took us to a man and said something; and the man bade us come along with him. So Charles left us, and we went on, and all I could make out was that I should be a piecener." "What is a piecener ?" said James. "Oh, you'll hear presently. Well, after going through a good many places that I could make little out of, it was so dusk, and we walked so fast, we came to a room, and the man put me in there, and went off with Helen, before I knew what I was about, and what a sight I saw ? Nothing ever frightened me so much." "Why, you said nobody should frighten you in the mills," remarked Willy. "Nobody did frighten me, though the man that took me from the other, looked as cross and spoke as gruff as old Buckle; but only think, boys, what it must be to see ever so many great big things, frames upon carriages on each side of the room, walking up to one another, and then walk "How funny!" said James, laughing, "but what was your work like ?" "Why you see, the frame goes sloping up so, and the bottom edge is not so high as this little table; and the upper edge has got two rows of little rollers, and over them several other rows, that stand up; and there are a great many cotton threads reaching from the bottom to the top of the frame; and while the machine moves about, the threads go running up, and twist round the little rollers above. Now the threads being thin and fine, they often break, and I have to keep a great watch, to get hold of the two ends when one breaks, and put them together, the same as in spinning." "It is spinning," said Helen. "Yes, it is; but not a bit like Mrs. Barker's wheel and distaff, with only one thread to mind. The man at the wheel is the spinner, and when the frame comes up the room he has to set his hand against it and push it back, which is pretty hard work. The joining, or piecening, is easy enough when you get used to it." "And what is scavenging?" "Oh, that made me laugh. You see, bits of cotton wool will stick to the thread, and they mustn't go on the reels; so there is a little girl huddled up under the frame and she snatches off all the loose wool, and throws it down so fast! and when the machine runs back, if the little scavenger did not bob and duck, and get very low, she would have a fine knock on the head." "Poor thing!" said Helen, "she can is almost choked and smothered in the dust of the light cotton bits that she has to pull and scatter about her. "I did not think of that, replied Mary, "it amused me to see her so frightened and all in a bustle, so I laughed, and the spinner laughed to see me; and he is like old Buckle, not so cross as he looks." never stretch herself out, hardly; and she | the girl whom she had scoffingly introduced among her new companions as a mighty great saint; who sang psalms by way of payment for above a dozen years' board, lodging, and clothing, which a silly old woman had given her at the expense of her own grand-children, now forced to leave a respectable home in the country, and to work in the factories for bread. The first part of the information of course excited much laughter, the latter no less indignation: and poor Helen found herself at once marked out for the contempt and dislike of the people around her. She hoped it might wear off; but whatever ensued she resolved in the strength of the Lord to submit, and never to grieve her friends by communicating the trial to which their kinswoman had subjected her. "Did the scavenger laugh ?" asked James. "No; she seemed angry, and muttered: I am sorry I was so thoughtless, granny, I will not laugh any more at her." "I hope not, my dear; all this is new to you, but you may find it very fatiguing before long; and then how would you like to be laughed at by others?" "Nobody shall laugh at me." "You could not prevent it, Mary. Remember how often I have told you, that the choice of what we are to be and to suffer is not in our own hands. It becomes us all, at all times, to submit humbly to whatever God sees fit to lay upon us; and to help our companions to do the same." "Yes granny; I will always submit to God; but I need not let my fellow-creatures domineer over me." "If the Lord makes them the means of afflicting us, Mary, it is to Him we submit. But we may not reason about it, since we have a positive command, 'Submit yourselves one to another.' 'Be clothed with humility.' 'Resist not evil.' There are many more such passages in the Bible." But as time wore on, this was more difficult than she had anticipated; for Helen Fleetwood with all her advantages was only a poor frail mortal, like others. Often did this determination of keeping her mouth as with a bridle, while the wicked was before her, cost a most severe struggle; often did the silence she was constrained to keep from good words fill her with pain and grief. When she had once or twice attempted to reason with her persecutors on scriptural grounds, and found that her remonstrances were received with shouts of derision, and her quotations from holy writ blasphemously parodied by a few who, being the worst, of course took the lead, she felt that in this instance the pearls were trampled under feet by beings ready to turn and rend her, and she forbore to inflame their bitter hostility. Yet her compassionate heart longed to repeat what might, she thought, be blessed to some poor children around her. The majority of her immediate companions were of her own and Phoebe's age, and seemingly hardened past all fear or shame; but some interesting and modest-looking little girls were mingled among them. Her greatest annoyance however by far, was from the boys, who were often set on to insult her in ways more trying than the rest. Still "I hope I shall do nothing to make her she endured, as seeing Him who is invisiotherwise," answered Helen; and the ble; but when returning to her home, widow felt that the question had been when meeting the affectionate smiles of evaded. In fact, Phœbe could not restrain its beloved and loving inmates, most gallfor a single day her bad feelings against ing was the restraint that withheld her Mary said nothing, but she looked unconvinced. Helen remarked, "There is no resting in a mill, for nobody can stop the great wheels always kept going by the steam. My work is among much bigger machines than Mary's, in the carding-room, where the cotton is pulled out and prepared for the spinners." "Do you walk about ?" asked Willy. "Yes, a good deal. There is plenty of bustling, and crowding, and hurrying, but the work does not seem very hard. Phoebe Wright is in the same room." "Is she civil ?" Mary inquired. |