Bessie at the Sea-Side. Mathews Joanna Hooe
Bessie at the Sea-Side
I.
THE SEA-SHORE
THE hotel carriage rolled away from Mr. Bradford's door with papa and mamma, the two nurses and four little children inside, and such a lot of trunks and baskets on the top; all on their way to Quam Beach. Harry and Fred, the two elder boys, were to stay with grandmamma until their school was over; and then they also were to go to the sea-side.
The great coach carried them across the ferry, and then they all jumped out and took their seats in the cars. It was a long, long ride, and after they left the cars there were still three or four miles to go in the stage, so that it was quite dark night when they reached Mrs. Jones's house. Poor little sick Bessie was tired out, and even Maggie, who had enjoyed the journey very much, thought that she should be glad to go to bed as soon as she had had her supper. It was so dark that the children could not see the ocean, of which they had talked and thought so much; but they could hear the sound of the waves as they rolled up on the beach. There was a large hotel at Quam, but Mrs. Bradford did not choose to go there with her little children; and so she had hired all the rooms that Mrs. Jones could spare in her house. The rooms were neat and clean, but very plain, and not very large, and so different from those at home that Maggie thought she should not like them at all. In that which was to be the nursery was a large, four-post bedstead in which nurse and Franky were to sleep; and beside it stood an old-fashioned trundle-bed, which was for Maggie and Bessie. Bessie was only too glad to be put into it at once, but Maggie looked at it with great displeasure.
"I sha'n't sleep in that nasty bed," she said. "Bessie, don't do it."
"Indeed," said nurse, "it's a very nice bed; and if you are going to be a naughty child, better than you deserve. That's a great way you have of calling every thing that don't just suit you, 'nasty.' I'd like to know where you mean to sleep, if you don't sleep there."
"I'm going to ask mamma to make Mrs. Jones give us a better one," said Maggie; and away she ran to the other room where mamma was undressing the baby. "Mamma," she said, "won't you make Mrs. Jones give us a better bed? That's just a kind of make-believe bed that nurse pulled out of the big one, and I know I can't sleep a wink in it."
"I do not believe that Mrs. Jones has another one to give us, dear," said her mother. "I know it is not so pretty as your little bed at home, but I think you will find it very comfortable. When I was a little girl, I always slept in a trundle-bed, and I never rested better. If you do not sleep a wink, we will see what Mrs. Jones can do for us to-morrow; but for to-night I think you must be contented with that bed; and if my little girl is as tired as her mother, she will be glad to lie down anywhere."
Maggie had felt like fretting a little; but when she saw how pale and tired her dear mother looked, she thought she would not trouble her by being naughty, so she put up her face for another good-night kiss, and ran back to the nursery.
"O, Maggie," said Bessie, "this bed is yeal nice and comf'able; come and feel it." So Maggie popped in between the clean white sheets, and in two minutes she had forgotten all about the trundle-bed and everything else.
When Bessie woke up the next morning, she saw Maggie standing by the open window, in her night-gown, with no shoes or stockings on. "O, Maggie," she said, "mamma told us not to go bare-feeted, and you are."
"I forgot," said Maggie; and she ran back to the bed and jumped in beside Bessie. "Bessie, there's such lots and lots of water out there! You never saw so much, not even in the reservoir at the Central Park."
"I guess it's the sea," said Bessie; "don't you know mamma said we would see water and water ever so far, and we couldn't see the end of it?"
"But I do see the end of it," said Maggie; "mamma was mistaken. I saw where the sky came down and stopped the sea; and, Bessie, I saw such a wonderful thing, – the sun came right up out of the water."
"O, Maggie, it couldn't; you was mistaken. If it went in the water it would be put out."
"I don't care," said Maggie, "it was the sun, and it is shining right there now. It isn't put out a bit. I woke up and I heard that noise mamma told us was the waves, and I wanted to see them, so I went to look, and over there in the sky was a beautiful red light; and in a minute I saw something bright coming out of the water away off; and it came higher and higher, and got so bright I could not look at it, and it was the sun, I know it was."
"But, Maggie, how didn't it get put out if it went in the water?"
"I don't know," said Maggie, "I'm going to ask papa."
Just then nurse and Jane came in with water for the children's bath, and before they were dressed, there was papa at the door asking if there were any little girls ready to go on the beach and find an appetite for breakfast. After that, nurse could scarcely dress them fast enough, and in a few moments they were ready to run down to the front porch where papa was waiting for them.
"O, papa, what a great, great water the sea is!" said Bessie.
"Yes, dear; and what a great and wise God must He be who made this wide sea and holds it in its place, and lets it come no farther than He wills."
"Papa," said Maggie, "I saw the wonderfulest thing this morning."
"The most wonderful," said her father.
"The most wonderful," repeated Maggie. "It was indeed, papa, and you need not think I was mistaken, for I am quite, quite sure I saw it."
"And what was this most wonderful thing you are so very sure you saw, Maggie?"
"It was the sun, papa, coming right up out of the water, and it was not put out a bit. It came up, up, away off there, where the sky touches the water. Mamma said we could not see the end of the ocean, but I see it quite well. Do not you see it, too, papa?"
"I see what appears to be the end of the ocean, but these great waters stretch away for many hundred miles farther. If you were to get on a ship and sail away as far as you can see from here, you would still see just as much water before you, and the sea and the sky would still appear to touch each other: and however far you went it would always be so, until you came where the land bounds the ocean on the other side. The place where the sky and water seem to meet, is called the horizon; and it is because they do seem to touch, that the sun appeared to you to come out of the water. It is rather a difficult thing for such little girls as you and Bessie to understand, but I will try to make it plain to you. You know that the earth is round, like a ball, do you not, Maggie?"
"Yes, papa."
"And I suppose that you think that the sun is moving when it seems to come up in the morning, and goes on and on, till it is quite over our heads, and then goes down on the other side of the sky until we can see it no more, do you not?"
"Yes, papa."
"But it is really the earth on which we live, and not the sun, which is moving. Once in twenty-four hours, which makes one day and one night, the earth turns entirely round, so that a part of the time one side is turned to the sun, and a part of the time the other side. See if you can find me a small, round stone, Maggie."
Maggie looked around till she found such a stone as her father wanted, and brought it to him. "Now," he said, "this stone shall be our earth, and this scratch the place where we live. We will take off Bessie's hat and have that for the sun. Now I will hold the mark which stands for our home, directly in front of our make-believe sun. If a bright light were coming from the sun and shining on our mark here, it would be the middle of the day or noon, while it would be dark on the other side. Then, as our earth moved slowly around in this way, and we turned from the sun it would become afternoon; and as we turned farther yet till we were quite away from the sun, it would be night. But we do not stay there in the dark, for we still go moving slowly round until our side of the earth comes towards the light again, and the darkness begins to pass away. The nearer we come to the sun the lighter it grows, until, if some little girl who lives on our scratch is up early enough and looks out at the horizon, or place where the earth and sky seem to meet, she sees the sun showing himself little by little; and it looks to her as if he were coming up out of the sea, while all the time the sun is standing still, and the earth on which we live is moving round so as to bring her once more opposite to him."
"And