Book: St. Nicholas Magazine for Boys and Girls, Vol. 5, Nov 1877 Nov 1878

V >> Various >> St. Nicholas Magazine for Boys and Girls, Vol. 5, Nov 1877 Nov 1878




"I feel bruised all over, and my arm is broken, I'm afraid. Lita tried
not to hurt me. She slipped, and we went down. I came here into the
shade, and the pain made me faint, I suppose. Call somebody, and get
me home."

Then, she shut her eyes, and looked so white that Ben hurried away
and burst upon old Mrs. Paine, placidly knitting at the end door, so
suddenly that, as she afterward said, "it sca't her like a clap o'
thunder."

"Aint a man nowheres around. All down in the big medder gettin' in
hay," was her reply to Ben's breathless demand for "everybody to come
and see to Miss Celia."

He turned to mount, for he had flung himself off before Lita stopped,
but the old lady caught his jacket and asked half a dozen questions in
a breath.

"Who's your folks? What's broke? How'd she fall? Where is she? Why
didn't she come right here? Is it a sunstroke?"

As fast as words could tumble out of his mouth Ben answered, and then
tried to free himself, but the old lady held on while she gave her
directions, expressed her sympathy, and offered her hospitality with
incoherent warmth.

"Sakes alive! poor dear! Fetch her right in. Liddy, get out the
camphire, and Melissy, you haul down a bed to lay her on. Falls is
dretful uncert'in things; shouldn't wonder if her back was broke.
Father's down yender, and he and Bijah will see to her. You go call
'em, and I'll blow the horn to start 'em up. Tell her we'll be pleased
to see her, and it wont make a mite of trouble."

Ben heard no more, for as Mrs. Paine turned to take down the tin horn
he was up and away.

Several long and dismal toots sent Lita galloping through the grassy
path as the sound of the trumpet excites a war-horse, and "father and
Bijah," alarmed by the signal at that hour, leaned on their rakes to
survey with wonder the distracted-looking little horseman approaching
like a whirlwind.

"Guess likely grandpa's had 'nother stroke. Told 'em to send over
soon's ever it come," said the farmer calmly.

"Shouldn't wonder ef suthing was afire some'r's," conjectured the
hired man, surveying the horizon for a cloud of smoke.

Instead of advancing to meet the messenger, both stood like statues in
blue overalls and red flannel shirts, till the boy arrived and told
his tale.

"Sho, that's bad," said the farmer, anxiously.

"That brook always was the darndest place," added Bijah, then both
men bestirred themselves helpfully, the former hurrying to Miss Celia
while the latter brought up the cart and made a bed of hay to lay her
on.

"Now then, boy, you go for the doctor. My women folks will see to
the lady, and she'd better keep quiet up yender till we see what the
matter is," said the farmer, when the pale girl was lifted in as
carefully as four strong arms could do it. "Hold on," he added, as Ben
made one leap to Lita's back. "You'll have to go to Berryville. Dr.
Mills is a master hand for broken bones and old Dr. Babcock aint.
'Tisn't but about three mile from here to his house, and you'll fetch
him 'fore there's any harm done waitin'."

"Don't kill Lita," called Miss Celia from the cart, as it began to
move.

But Ben did not hear her, for he was off across the fields, riding as
if life and death depended upon his speed.

"That boy will break his neck!" said Mr. Paine, standing still
to watch horse and rider go over the wall as if bent on instant
destruction.

"No fear for Ben, he can ride anything, and Lita was trained to leap,"
answered Miss Celia, falling back on the hay with a groan, for she had
involuntarily raised her head to see her little squire dash away in
gallant style.

"I should hope so; regular jockey, that boy. Never see anything like
it out of a race-ground," and farmer Paine strode on, still following
with his eye the figures that went thundering over the bridge, up the
hill, out of sight, leaving a cloud of dust behind.

Now that his mistress was safe, Ben enjoyed that wild ride mightily,
and so did the bay mare; for Lita had good blood in her, and proved it
that day by doing her three miles in a wonderfully short time. People
jogging along in wagons and country carry-alls, stared amazed as the
reckless pair went by. Women, placidly doing their afternoon sewing at
the front windows, dropped their needles to run out with exclamations
of alarm, sure some one was being run away with; children playing by
the roadside scattered like chickens before a hawk, as Ben passed with
a warning whoop, and baby-carriages were scrambled into door-yards
with perilous rapidity at his approach.

But when he clattered into town, intense interest was felt in this
bare-footed boy on the foaming steed, and a dozen voices asked, "Who's
killed?" as he pulled up at the doctor's gate.

"Jest drove off that way; Mrs. Flynn's baby's in a fit," cried a stout
lady from the piazza, never ceasing to rock, though several passers-by
paused to hear the news, for she was a doctor's wife, and used to the
arrival of excited messengers from all quarters at all hours of the
day and night.

Deigning no reply to any one, Ben rode away, wishing he could leap a
yawning gulf, scale a precipice, or ford a raging torrent, to prove
his devotion to Miss Celia, and his skill in horsemanship. But no
dangers beset his path, and he found the doctor pausing to water
his tired horse at the very trough where Bab and Sancho had been
discovered on that ever-memorable day. The story was quickly told,
and, promising to be there as soon as possible, Dr. Mills drove on to
relieve baby Flynn's inner man, a little disturbed by a bit of soap
and several buttons, upon which he had privately lunched while his
mamma was busy at the wash-tub.

Ben thanked his stars, as he had already done more than once, that
he knew how to take care for a horse; for he delayed by the
watering-place long enough to wash out Lita's mouth with a handful of
wet grass, to let her have one swallow to clear her dusty throat, and
then went slowly back over the breezy hills, patting and praising the
good creature for her intelligence and speed. She knew well enough
that she had been a clever little mare, and tossed her head, arched
her glossy neck, and ambled daintily along, as conscious and
coquettish as a pretty woman, looking round at her admiring rider to
return his compliments by glances of affection, and caressing sniffs
of a velvet nose at his bare feet.

Miss Celia had been laid comfortably in bed by the farmer's wife and
daughters, and, when the doctor arrived, bore the setting of her arm
bravely. No other serious damage appeared, and bruises soon heal, so
Ben was sent home to comfort Thorny with a good report, and ask the
squire to drive up in his big carry-all for her the next day, if she
was able to be moved.

Mrs. Moss had been wise enough to say nothing, but quietly made what
preparations she could, and waited for tidings. Bab and Betty were
away berrying, so no one had alarmed Thorny, and he had his afternoon
nap in peace,--an unusually long one, owing to the stillness which
prevailed in the absence of the children; and when he awoke he lay
reading for a while before he began to wonder where every one was.
Lounging out to see, he found Ben and Lita reposing side by side on
the fresh straw in the loose box, which had been made for her in the
coach-house. By the pails, sponges and curry-combs lying about, it was
evident that she had been refreshed by a careful washing and rubbing
down, and my lady was now luxuriously resting after her labors, with
her devoted groom half asleep close by.

"Well, of all queer boys you are the queerest, to spend this hot
afternoon fussing over Lita, just for the fun of it!" cried Thorny,
looking in at them with much amusement.

"If you knew what we'd been doing you'd think I ought to fuss over
her, and both of us had a right to rest!" answered Ben, rousing up as
bright as a button; for he longed to tell his thrilling tale, and had
with difficulty been restrained from bursting in on Thorny as soon as
he arrived.

He made short work of the story, but was quite satisfied with the
sensation it produced; for his listener was startled, relieved,
excited and charmed, in such rapid succession, that he was obliged to
sit upon the meal chest and get his breath before he could exclaim,
with an emphatic demonstration of his heels against the bin:

"Ben Brown, I'll never forget what you've done for Celia this day, or
say 'bow-legs' again as long as I live!"

"George! I felt as if I had _six_ legs when we were going the pace. We
were all one piece, and had a jolly spin, didn't we, my beauty?" and
Ben chuckled as he took Lita's head in his lap, while she answered
with a gusty sigh that nearly blew him away.

"Like the fellow that brought the good news from Ghent to Aix," said
Thorny, surveying the recumbent pair with great admiration.

"What fellow?" asked Ben, wondering if he didn't mean Sheridan, of
whose ride he had heard.

"Don't you know that piece? I spoke it at school. Give it to you now;
see if it isn't a rouser."

And, glad to find a vent for his excitement, Thorny mounted the
meal-chest, to thunder out that stirring ballad with such spirit that
Lita pricked up her ears, and Ben gave a shrill "Hooray!" as the last
verse ended,

"And all I remember is friends flocking round,
As I sat with his head 'twixt my knees on the ground,
And no voice but was praising this Roland of mine,
As I poured down his throat our last measure of wine,
Which (the burgesses voted by common consent)
Was no more than his due who brought good news from Ghent."

(_To be continued_.)






MASTER MONTEZUMA.

(_With Illustrations copied from Mexican Hieroglyphics_.)

By C.C. HASKINS.

[Note.--Montezuma II., the last of the Aztec (or native Mexican)
emperors, was born about 1480. He was taken prisoner by Hernando
Cortes, the commander of the Spanish army which conquered Mexico, and,
in the hope of quelling an insurrection which had arisen among his
former subjects, he consented to address them from the walls of his
prison. Stung by the apparent desertion of their leader to the cause
of the enemy, the Mexicans assaulted him with stones and other
missiles. He was struck on the temple by one of the stones, and died
from the effects in a few days. The illustrations are true copies of
old Mexican pictures, which appeared originally in the "Collection
of Mendoza," a work frequently referred to by all writers on ancient
Mexico.--C.C.H.]


The Emperor Montezuma was a great man, and historians have recorded
much about him, but of his earlier life, when he was plain Master
Montezuma, comparatively little is known of this rising young
gentleman.

Master M. commenced his earthly career as a crying baby, in the
year "one cane," which, when properly figured down according to the
Gregorian calendar, would be about the year of our Lord 1480.

No sooner had Master M. reached the fourth day of his existence, than
the nurse, under instructions from his anxious mamma, took off what
few clothes the poor boy had on, and repairing to the baptismal font
in the yard, sprinkled cold water upon his naked breast and lips,
presented his credentials in the shape of offerings to propitiate the
gods of war, agriculture, etc., whose names you will find further
along in this history, repeated a prayer in which "the Lord was
implored to wash away the sin that was given him before the foundation
of the world, so that the child might be born anew," and told the
three little boys who sat near by, what Master M.'s name was to be.
The three little boys left off eating their parched corn, and boiled
beans, repeated the name, and the little baby was christened.

Now, if Master M. had been a girl--which he was not--the offerings
would have been a mat, a spinning machine and a broom, all of which
would have been buried under the _metate_, the stone where corn was
ground. As it was, the offerings were implements of war, articles of
metal, pottery, etc., and these were buried, as near as they could
guess at the location, where they either hoped or feared there might
some day be a battle with their enemies.

When Master M. had eaten and slept and kicked and cried for sixteen
days longer, his parents took him to the priest, and to the teacher,
and promised that he should be instructed by these worthy gentlemen in
war, politics, religion, and other branches of general education. They
promised that he should be an Alfalqui, or priest, and should also
serve in the army as a soldier. In that little, wiggling baby, that
seemed all fists and mouth, it was impossible to foresee the future
Emperor of Mexico, whose name has since become familiar to the
civilized world.

Young Master M. worried along pretty well, and up to six years of
age had done nothing remarkable. At this age he was granted one and
one-half rolls at a meal, and commenced doing little errands and
picking up scattered beans and corn in the Tianquez, which is what the
Mexicans called the market-place.

The restless spirit of a military chieftain now began to show itself
in the embryo warrior, and, by the time he had reached his eighth
year, discipline became necessary to curb his growing inclination to
despotism. He was fast becoming one of that class of boys who think
"it's too bad to be good all the time." In the second picture see the
scalding tears! Whether Master M. is sorry that he has done wrong, or
whether he only fears being pricked with those terrible thorns of the
aloe with which he is threatened, or is crying because he is cold, who
shall tell? It is hard, sometimes, to tell what eight-year-old boys
are crying for, whether they live in the United States or in Mexico.

Master M. may have been better than most boys, and it may be that
his father was a better driver than leader for his little ones. Some
fathers are. In any event, when Master M. was ten years old there
came another opportunity for weeping and wailing, and Master M. was
submitted to the mortification of lying on the damp ground all day
while he listened to a parental lecture; and this, too, after he was
twelve years old!

Then Master M. reformed, and became an industrious, faithful boy. I
have sometimes questioned whether he wasn't hungry, and if he had been
better fed whether he would not have done better. At fourteen years of
age they gave him two rolls at a meal, and he was instructed in the
art of fishing with a net. You can tell how old the boy is by the
number of round marks in the picture, and the person who is speaking
is denoted by a tongue in front of the mouth.

When his fifteenth year came, Master M. found he would have plenty to
do. After this, old Mr. M. had no trouble with him. It is curious--the
more we have to do, the less liable we are to do something we should
not, and--let us all study on that half an hour, some day, and see
what we can make of it.

[Illustration: MASTER MONTEZUMA'S PARENTS TAKE HIM TO THE PRIEST AND
THE TEACHER.]

He had two teachers, the priest and the military professor. It seemed
as if everything was to be learned. There was arithmetic, he learned
to make figures. A round, blue dot stands for one.

Five of them make five, and ooooo-o (five and one) is six, and in that
way it runs up to ten. If he wanted to say "twenty" he made a flag,
and for forty he made two flags.

Just imagine such a multiplication table as this: Five times four is
one flag. Flag times flag is one plume. Flag times plume is one purse!
Let's see; a purse, then, would equal 8,000. Yes, and if he wanted to
write 4,000 he would draw only half a purse. All the examples in their
arithmetic were worked by such tables as these.

Then there were lessons in time. He had to learn that five days make a
week, four weeks make a month, and eighteen months make a year; and as
all that footed up only three hundred and sixty days, they threw in
what they called the five unlucky days that belonged to no month, to
fill up before they commenced a new year. And then he found another
arrangement for doing what we do with our leap-year, for, once in
fifty-two years they put in twelve and one-half extra days, which is
something like setting the clock ahead when you find it is too slow by
the town bell or the fire alarm.

[Illustration: MASTER MONTEZUMA MUST BE PUNISHED.]

He learned that this kind of calendar had been in use a long time, and
was the result of careful study and calculation by the wise priests of
the olden time; and, when he wanted to know how long, he counted up
the bundles of reeds which represented centuries, and found that
it had been in use over four hundred years. And all this, you must
remember, was before San Salvador was discovered by Columbus. Then he
had to study all about the naming of the years and the cycles. How, if
this year was "one rabbit," next year would be "two cane," the third
"three flint," the next "four house," and these four elements,
representing air, water, fire, earth, would be thus repeated up to
thirteen, and then they would commence at one again, so that the
fourteenth year would be "one cane," etc., and in four of these cycles
of thirteen they would reach a cycle of fifty-two years, or, as they
called it, a "bundle," and as the twelve and one-half days additional
would end one cycle of fifty-two years at midday, and the next at
midnight, they bundled two of these together and called it "an old
age." The number fifty-two was an unlucky number, and these old
Mexicans believed that at the end of a cycle of that number of years,
at some time, the world would be depopulated, the sun put out, and,
after death and darkness had reigned awhile, it would all begin afresh
with a new race of people.

[Illustration: MASTER MONTEZUMA IS TAUGHT HOW TO FISH.]

So, when a cycle or bundle was completed, all fires were extinguished
and not rekindled during the five unlucky days. Household goods which
could no longer be of any service, dishes, household articles, etc.,
were broken; every one gave up all hope, and abandoned himself to
despair while awaiting the expected ruin.

[Illustration: MASTER MONTEZUMA IS TALKED TO BY HIS FATHER.]

On the evening of the fifth day of sorrow, the priests gathered the
people together in a procession and marched to a temple, about two
leagues from the city. Here they would sit like bumps on a log until
midnight, and then, when the constellation which we call the Pleiades
came exactly overhead, the danger was over. Two sticks were rubbed
together over the breast of a captive who had been selected for the
sacrifice, until fire was produced by the friction, the funeral pile
was lighted, the body burned, and messengers, many of whom could run
long distances, at the rate of seven or eight miles an hour, would
light their torches and spread the joyful news of danger averted,
while carrying the "new fire" into all parts of the empire. Then would
follow a regular old-fashioned frolic, something like a centennial,--a
jollification few had ever seen and most would see but once in a
life-time. There must be no drunkenness, however; that was a high
crime, in some instances punished by death. If the intemperate party,
man or woman, was over seventy years of age, however, no notice was
taken of it,--they were old, and had rights and privileges not granted
to younger members of the community.

[Illustration: CARRYING THE BRIDE.]

Master M. had much to learn about deities. At the head of these stood
one, infinite, supreme ruler, "the unknown God," and next beneath him
came Tezcatlipoca, the "son of the world," supposed to be the creator
of the earth, Huitzilopotchli was the god of war, a sort of Mars, but
with very much more name. Then there was the god of air, Quetzatcoatl,
who controlled vegetation, metals, and the politics of the country.
Here is something Master M. was taught to believe of him:

When this god, whom we will call Q, was on earth, vegetation was so
wonderfully prolific that a single ear of corn was all a man could
carry. Everything the people needed grew spontaneously. Cotton grew
more beautifully tinted than the dyers of the present time could color
it. Richest perfumes loaded temperate breezes, and everywhere the
gaudiest-colored birds filled the air with most entrancing harmonies.
Q had some little difficulty, however, with the rest of the gods, and
was obliged to leave his little paradise. When he embarked in his
wizard snake-skin canoe on the shore of the gulf, he told his friends
that his descendents would one day return and bless the land as he had
done, and that they would be like him,--tall, fine looking, with dark
hair, white skins, and flowing beards. Alas! this belief was in no
small degree the cause of their ruin; for the invading Spaniards quite
nearly answered this description of Q's descendants.

[Illustration: THE WEDDING OF MONTEZUMA.]

There were thirteen of the principal deities, as Master M. learned,
each of whom required sacrifices more or less horrible. For instance,
there was the "soul of the world," I forget his other name. He must
be propitiated now and then. A year before the fatal day, a tall,
beautiful, well-formed, unblemished captive was selected to play the
part of this god for one year. He must have all these qualifications
to make the resemblance as perfect as possible. He was now treated
as a god. Everything he could wish, everything it was thought could
possibly conduce to his pleasure, comfort, or happiness, was furnished
without stint. He slept on the softest of couches in the most gorgeous
of chambers; his raiment was profuse and expensive, and the whole
surroundings were, as far as possible, in keeping with his high and
holy estate. Birds and music, flowers and rare perfumes pleased every
sense, and everything, save liberty, was his. This happy-go-lucky sort
of life continued until the day fixed for the sacrifice. Then joy gave
way to sadness, pain, death! Stripped of his costly raiment, he was
taken by a procession of priests to a royal barge, thence across a
lake to a temple about a league from the city, where, as he mounted
the weary steps of the huge edifice, he flung aside the garlands of
flowers and broke the musical instruments which had been a joy to him
in his past days. At the summit of the temple, in full view of the
assembled multitude below, he was barbarously put to death by a
priest, in order to propitiate the cruel god to whom the temple
was dedicated. And Master M. was taught that the moral of all this
savagery was, that human joys are transitory, and the partition
between sorrow and happiness is a very thin one, or words to that
effect.

Master M. learned that there were many other inferior gods, each of
which had festivals, sacrifices, etc., proportioned to his rank and
power; that nearly every hour of the day was dedicated to some god or
other; but I cannot tell you all he learned of these strange deities.

[Illustration: A PEACE-OFFERING IN THE YEAR ONE RABBIT.]

He studied the history of the temples, and learned why they were four
or five stories high with the stairs on the outside, and why he had to
go entirely round the temple to find the next flight of stairs as he
went up or down; and why each story was smaller than the next lower,
and learned that some of these buildings were over one hundred feet
square and as many feet high, and had towers forty or fifty feet high
on their summits; and all about the everlasting fire which burned on
the tops of these temples, and that there were so many of these that
the whole country for miles around was always brilliantly illuminated.

I must pass over a long period in the life of Master M. with the mere
remark that he graduated in both his military and religious classes
with the highest honors, and acquitted himself to the most perfect
satisfaction of both the alfalquis, or priests, and the teachcauhs,
which is nearly the same as our word teachers.

Master M. had, for a long time, cherished a hope that some day he
might press the throne as king of Mexico. So, like the Yorkshire lad
who begged salt of a stranger eating eggs near him, so as to have
the salt ready in case any one _should_ ask him to accept an egg, he
prepared himself fully for the possible emergency, and became not only
a military general, but a leading alfalqui.

And then he married. I have not room to give you the whole picture,
but here is the way it was done.

A lady whose position in society required her to negotiate the match,
having previously made all the necessary arrangements, one evening,
hoisted the happy damsel on her back, and accompanied by four young
women (I have drawn only one) each bearing a torch, headed the joyous
procession and marched to the house of Master M., where she dropped
her cargo of precious humanity. Then the alfalqui asked them if they
were mutually agreed on matrimony, and of course, they said "yes,"
when he proceeded to tie their clothes together. Then two old
patriarchs and two good old grandmothers (one of each of which I have
copied for you) delivered little sermons suited to the occasion. The
new couple walked seven times round a blazing fire, partook of a feast
with their friends, heard a final sort of a "ninety-ninthly and to
conclude" parting word from the four old people, and then, just as all
married people do, went to housekeeping, and having their own way as
much as possible. One thing they could not do. There was no law
of divorce to appeal to then; death was the only judge who could
entertain the question of separation.

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