Mr. And Mrs. Woodbridge Read online

  Mr. and Mrs. Woodbridge

  Harriet Beecher Stowe

  Mr. and Mrs. Woodbridge

  Table of Contents

  Mr. and Mrs. Woodbridge.................................................................................................................................1

  Harriet Beecher Stowe.............................................................................................................................1

  PREFACE. ..............................................................................................................................................1

  MR. AND MRS. WOODBRIDGE. ........................................................................................................2

  PART I. ................................................................................................................................................................2

  PART II. .............................................................................................................................................................11

  PART III. ...........................................................................................................................................................17

  PART IV. ...........................................................................................................................................................27

  TO A WITHERED ROSE. ...................................................................................................................38

  A SISTER'S LOVE. ..............................................................................................................................38

  MY SISTER'S CHILD. .........................................................................................................................38

  TO ONE BELOVED. ...........................................................................................................................38

  MARK MERIDEN. ..............................................................................................................................39

  THE COSSACK'S CHARGE. ..............................................................................................................43

  TRANSLATIONS FROM THE GERMAN OF RICHTER, (JEAN PAUL.) .....................................43

  ON THE DEATH OF A CHILD. .........................................................................................................44

  THE PORTRAIT OF TWO SISTERS. ................................................................................................44

  THE MOTHER'S OFFERING. ............................................................................................................45

  GENTILITY. ........................................................................................................................................45

  THE SAILOR BOY'S LAMENT. ........................................................................................................50

  THE SUMMER RAIN. .........................................................................................................................50

  EXPERIENCE OF A MECHANIC. .....................................................................................................50

  WOMAN. ..............................................................................................................................................51

  THE SOFT ANSWER. .........................................................................................................................51

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  Mr. and Mrs. Woodbridge

  Harriet Beecher Stowe

  This page copyright © 2001 Blackmask Online.

  http://www.blackmask.com

  PREFACE.

  •

  MR. AND MRS. WOODBRIDGE.

  •

  PART I.

  •

  PART II.

  •

  PART III.

  •

  PART IV.

  •

  TO A WITHERED ROSE.

  •

  A SISTER'S LOVE.

  •

  MY SISTER'S CHILD.

  •

  TO ONE BELOVED.

  •

  MARK MERIDEN.

  •

  THE COSSACK'S CHARGE.

  •

  TRANSLATIONS FROM THE GERMAN OF RICHTER, (JEAN PAUL.)

  •

  ON THE DEATH OF A CHILD.

  •

  THE PORTRAIT OF TWO SISTERS.

  •

  THE MOTHER'S OFFERING.

  •

  GENTILITY.

  •

  THE SAILOR BOY'S LAMENT.

  •

  THE SUMMER RAIN.

  •

  EXPERIENCE OF A MECHANIC.

  •

  WOMAN.

  •

  THE SOFT ANSWER.

  •

  PREFACE.

  Well written Tales, with only real life set forth, are profitable. A two fold object is gained by such publications; interest is blended with utility. No writings are made so profitable as those which, while they are eminently calculated to afford the richest instructions to the mind, instructions embodying the very elements of virtue, awaken the finer sensibilities of our nature by the exhibition of life as it is. More moral principle is instilled into the mind by the exhibition of a living example than was ever accomplished by essayists however correct might be their doctrines. The ways of life are better learned by seeing than any other way.

  With these views of life and manners, the publishers thought it would subserve the interests of morality by giving a wider circulation than otherwise could be done of the matters of this volume. A few choice poems are given for variety. Most of the articles are taken from the Lady's Book, a very popular monthly magazine published in Philadelphia. The poems are mostly from the Ladies' Companion, published in New York. The publishers can not object to so good matter being circulated. The reputation of the magazines will not hereby be impaired but rather the works will be brought more into notice.

  Mr. and Mrs. Woodbridge

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  Mr. and Mrs. Woodbridge

  As it regards youth, this little volume it is thought will prove very instructive. Their minds are more susceptible of impression than the more aged. If Mrs. Woodbridge had been under like influences in her mother's care as those improprieties of her conduct and the talk of her neighbors had upon her mind she would never have been so reckless about the happiness of her husband and his and her friends. The difficulties of overcoming such effects as her training produced upon her mind while young are clearly seen in her reformation. No young girl can read this story (no matter if such persons as Mrs. W. ever had an existence save in the author's imagination) and then resolve to be such a connubial tormentor. Married life is every way calculated to yield enjoyment when all the principles therein involved are duly regarded; but if they are not regarded, it will make its subject as miserable as they would have been happy.

  To promote the highest enjoyment of matrimonial alliances, and encourage mutual affection it is necessary that married persons live for one another. This done all will be well. So with the world, "Do as you would be done by" is the great maxim. To teach this important lesson has been a special object in sending out these pieces in the present form.

  MR. AND MRS. WOODBRIDGE.

  PART I.

  The morning subsequent to their arrival in Philadelphia, Harvey Woodbridge proposed to his bride, (a New York beauty, to whom he had recently been united, after a very short acquaintance,) that she should accompany him to look at the new house he
had taken previous to their marriage, and which he had delayed furnishing till the taste of his beloved Charlotte could be consulted as well as his own. Meanwhile they were staying at one of the principal boarding−houses of his native city.

  Ten o'clock was the time finally appointed by the lady for this visit to their future residence: and her husband, after taking a melancholy leave (they had been married but seven days) departed to pass an hour at his place of business.

  When he returned, Mr. Woodbridge sprang up stairs three steps at a time, (we have just said he had been married only a week,) and on entering their apartment he was saluted by his wife as she held out her watch to him, with "So after all, you are ten minutes beyond the hour!"

  "I acknowledge it, my dear love" replied the husband "but I was detained by a western customer to whom I have just made a very profitable sale."

  "Still" persisted the bride, half pouting "people should always be punctual, and keep their appointments to the very minute."

  "And yet, my dearest Charlotte," observed Woodbridge, somewhat hesitatingly "I do not find you quite ready to go out with me."

  "Oh! that is another thing," replied the lady "one may be kept waiting without being ready."

  "That is strange logic, my love," said Woodbridge, smiling.

  "I don't know what you call logic"answered the beautiful Charlotte. "I learnt all my logic at Mrs. Fooltrap's boarding−school, where we said a logic lesson twice a week. But I am sure 'tis much easier for a man to hurry with his bargaining than for a lady to hurry with her dressing; that is if she pays any regard to her appearance.

  I have been pondering for an hour about what I shall put on to go out this morning. I am sadly puzzled among MR. AND MRS. WOODBRIDGE.

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  Mr. and Mrs. Woodbridge

  all my new walking−dresses. There are my chaly, and my gros des Indes, and my peau−de−soie, and my foulard "

  "If you will tell me which is which" interrupted Woodbridge "I will endeavor to assist you in your choice. But from its name (foulard, as you call it,) I do not imagine that last thing can be a very nice article."

  "What fools men are!" exclaimed the lovely Charlotte "Now that is the very prettiest of all my walking−dresses, let the name be what it will. I always did like foulard from the moment I first saw it at Stewart's. I absolutely doat upon foulard. So that is the very thing I will wear, upon my first appearance in Chesnut street as Mrs. Harvey Woodbridge."

  "Don't," said her husband, surveying the dress as she held it up "it looks like calico "

  "Say don't to me," exclaimed the bridè threateningly;"Calico, indeed! when it is a French silk at twelve shillings a yard a dollar and a half as you foolishly say in Philadelphia."

  "Well, well," replied Woodbridge, pacifyingly "wear what ever you please it is of no consequence."

  "So then, you think it of no consequence how I am drest! I dare say you would not grieve in the least, if I were really to go out in a calico gown I did suppose that perhaps you took some little interest in me."

  "I do indeed," anwered Woodbridge.

  "You confess then that it is but little."

  "No a very great interest, certainly and you know that I do. But as to your dress, you, of course, must be the best judge. And to me you always look beautifully."

  "To you but not to others I suppose that is what you mean."

  "To every one" replied the husband "I observed this morning the glance of admiration that ran round the breakfast table as soon as you had taken your seat. That little cap with the yellow ribbon is remarkably becoming to you."

  "So then, it was the cap and not myself that was admired!"said the wife."I am sure I am much obliged to the cap. Yellow ribbon, too! To call it yellow when it is the most delicate primrose. As if I would wear a yellow ribbon."

  "Indeed, my love" answered Woodbridge "you must forgive me if I am not au−fait to all the technicalities of a lady's toilet. I acknowledge my ignorance with due humility."

  "You well may I was absolutely ashamed of you one evening at our house in New York, when Mrs.

  Rouleau and the two Miss Quillings and Miss Biasfold were present, and we were all enjoying ourselves and discussing the last fashions. And thinking you ought to say something by way of joining in the conversation, you called my deep flounce a long tuck."

  "I'll never do so again" said Woodbridge, imitating the tone of a delinquent school boy.

  The foulard silk was energetically put on; the fair Charlotte pertinaciously insisting on hooking it up the back entirely herself: a herculean task which, in his heart of hearts, her husband was rather glad to be spared. And not knowing that spite gives strength, he stood amazed at the vigour and dexterity with which his lovely bride MR. AND MRS. WOODBRIDGE.

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  Mr. and Mrs. Woodbridge

  put her hands behind her and accomplished the feat. When it was done, she took a long survey of herself in the glass, and then turned round to her husband and made a low curtesy, saying "There now you see me in my calico gown."

  Woodbridge uttered no reply: but he thought in his own mind "What a pity it is that beauties are so apt to be spoiled!" He might have added "What a pity it is that men are so apt to spoil them."

  At length, after much fixing and unfixing, and putting on and taking off the finishing articles of her attire (particularly half−a−dozen pair of tight fitting new kid gloves, none of which were quite tight enough) her ignoramus of a husband again offending by calling her pelerine a cape and her scarf a neckcloth, and mistaking the flowers in her bonnet for roses when he ought to have known they were almond blossoms, Mrs.

  Harvey Woodbridge sullenly acknowledged herself ready to go out.

  During their walk to the new house, our hero endeavored to restore the good−humour of his bride by talking to her of the delightful life he anticipated when settled in a pleasant mansion of their own. But his glowing picture of domestic happiness elicited no reply; her attention being all the time engaged by the superior attractions of numerous ribbons, laces, scarfs, shawls, trinkets, &c., displayed in the shop−windows, and of which though she could now take only a passing glance, she mentally promised herself the enjoyment of making large purchases at her leisure.

  They arrived at their future residence, a genteel and well−finished house of moderate size, where all was so bright and clean, that it was impossible for the bride not to be pleased with its aspect, as her husband unlocked the doors and threw open the shutters of room after room. Mrs. Woodbridge rejoiced particularly on observing that the ceilings of the parlors had centre circles for chandeliers, and she began to consider whether the chandeliers should be bronzed or gilt. She also began to talk of various splendid articles of furniture that would be necessary for the principal rooms. "Mamma charged me" said she "to have silk damask lounges and chair−cushions, and above all things not to be sparing in mirrors. She said she should hate to enter my parlors if the pier−glasses were not tall enough to reach from the floor to the ceiling; and that she would never forgive me if my mantel−glasses did not cover the whole space of the wall above the chimney−pieces.

  She declared she would never speak to me again if my centre−table were not supplied with all sorts of elegant things, in silver, and china and coloured glass. And her last words were to remind me of getting a silver card basket, very wide at the top that the cards of the best visiters might be spread out to advantage. The pretty things on Mrs. Overbuy's enamelled centre−table are said to have cost not less than five hundred dollars."

  "Was it not her husband that failed last week for the fourth time?" asked Woodbridge. "I believe he did"replied Charlotte"but that is nothing. Almost every body's husband fails now. Mrs. Overbuy says it is quite fashionable." "In that respect, as in many others, I hope to continue unfashionable all my life"

  remarked Woodbridge. "That is so like pa"' observed Charlotte. "He has the strangest dread of failing; though ma' often tells him that most people seem to live much the better for it, and m
ake a greater show than everat least after the first few weeks. And then pa' begins to explain to her about failing, and breaking, and stopping payment, and debtors and creditors, and all that sort of thing. But she cuts him short, and says she hates business talk. And so do I, for I am exactly like her."

  At this information Woodbridge felt as if he was going to sigh; but he looked at his bride, and, consoled himself with the reflection that he had certainly married one of the most beautiful girls in America; and therefore his sigh turned to a smile.

  They had now descended to the lower story of the house. "Ah!" exclaimed Charlotte"the basement, back and front, is entirely filled up with cellars. How very ridiculous!" "It does not seem so to me" replied Woodbridge "this mode of building is very customary in Philadelphia." "So much the worse" answered the lady. "Now in New York nothing is more usual than to have a nice sitting room down in the basement story, just in front of the kitchen." "A sort of servants' parlor, I suppose" said her husband. "It is certainly MR. AND MRS. WOODBRIDGE.

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  very considerate to allot to the domestics, when not at work, a comfortable place of retirement, removed from the heat, and slop and all the desegremens of a kitchen."

  "How foolishly you always talk" exclaimed Mrs. Woodbridge. "As if you would give the basement−room to the servants! No we use it ourselves. In ma's family, as in hundreds of others all over New York, it is the place where we sit when we have no company, and where we always eat."

  "What! half under ground" exclaimed Woodbridge "Really I should feel all the time as if I was living in a kitchen."

  "It is very wrong in you to say so," replied the lady "and very unkind to say it to me, when we had a basement−room in our house in New York, and used it constantly. To be sure I've heard ma' say she had some trouble in breaking pa' into it but he had to give up. Men have such foolish notions about almost every thing, that it is well when they have somebody to put their nonsense out of their heads."

  "I never saw you in that basement−room" observed Woodbridge.

  "To be sure you did not. I do not say that it is the fashion for young ladies to receive their beaux in the basement−room. But beaux and husbands are different things."