the ocean and the new world.

doctors tell us that change of air is usually beneficial, often necessary, nearly always agreeable. relying on the wisdom of this opinion, we propose now to give the reader who has followed us thus far a change of air—by shifting the scene to the bosom of the broad atlantic—and thus blow away the cobwebs and dust of the city.

those who have not yet been out upon the great ocean cannot conceive—and those who have been out on it may not have seen—the splendours of a luminous fog on a glorious summer morning. the prevailing ideas in such circumstances are peace and liquidity! the only solid object visible above, below, or around, being the ship on which you stand.

everything else is impalpable, floating, soft, and of a light, bright, silvery grey. the air is warm, the sea is glass; it is circular, too, like a disc, and the line where it meets with the sky is imperceptible. your little bark is the centre of a great crystal ball, the limit of which is immensity!

as we have said, peace, liquidity, luminosity, softness, and warmth prevail everywhere, and the fog, or rather, the silvery haze—for it is dry and warm as well as bright—has the peculiar effect of deadening sound, so that the quiet little noises of ship-board rather help than destroy the idea of that profound tranquillity which suggests irresistibly to the religious mind the higher and sweeter idea of “the peace of god.”

but, although intensely still, there is no suggestion of death in such a scene. it is only that of slumber! for the ocean undulates even when at rest, and sails flap gently even when there is no wind. besides this, on the particular morning to which we call attention, a species of what we may call “still life” was presented by a mighty iceberg—a peaked and towering mountain of snowy white and emerald blue—which floated on the sea not a quarter of a mile off on the starboard bow. real life also was presented to the passengers of the noble bark which formed the centre of this scene, in the form of gulls floating like great snowflakes in the air, and flocks of active little divers rejoicing unspeakably on the water. the distant cries of these added to the harmony of nature, and tended to draw the mind from mere abstract contemplation to positive sympathy with the joys of other animals besides one’s-self.

the only discordant sounds that met the ears of those who voyaged in the bark ocean queen were the cacklings of a creature in the hen-coops which had laid an egg, or thought it had done so, or wished to do so, or, having been sea-sick up to that time, perhaps, endeavoured to revive its spirits by recalling the fact that it once did so, and might perhaps do so again! by the way there was also one other discord, in the form of a pugnacious baby, which whimpered continuously, and, from some unaccountable cause, refused to be comforted. but that was a discord which, as in some musical chords, seemed rather to improve the harmony—at least in its mother’s ears.

the ocean queen was an emigrant ship. in her capacious hull, besides other emigrants, there were upwards of seventy diamonds from the beehive in spitalfields on their way to seek their fortunes in the lands that are watered by such grand fresh-water seas as lakes superior and huron and michigan and ontario, and such rivers as the ottawa and the saint lawrence.

robert frog and tim lumpy were among those boys, so changed for the better in a few months that, as the former remarked, “their own mothers wouldn’t know ’em,” and not only improved in appearance, but in spirit, ay, and even to some small extent in language—so great had been the influence for good brought to bear on them by christian women working out of love to god and souls.

“ain’t it lovely?” said tim.

“splendacious!” replied bob.

the reader will observe that we did not say the language had, at that time, been much improved! only to some small extent.

“i’ve seen pictur’s of ’em, bob,” said tim, leaning his arms on the vessel’s bulwarks as he gazed on the sleeping sea, “w’en a gen’l’man came to george yard with a magic lantern, but i never thought they was so big, or that the holes in ’em was so blue.”

“nor i neither,” said bob.

they referred, of course, to the iceberg, the seams and especially the caverns in which graduated from the lightest azure to the deepest indigo.

“why, i do believe,” continued bobby, as the haze grew a little thinner, “that there’s rivers of water runnin’ down its sides, just like as if it was a mountain o’ loaf-sugar wi’ the fire-brigade a-pumpin’ on it. an’ see, there’s waterfalls too, bigger i do b’lieve than the one i once saw at a pantomime.”

“ay, an’ far prettier too,” said tim.

bobby frog did not quite see his way to assent to that. the waterfalls on the iceberg were bigger, he admitted, than those in the pantomime, but then, there was not so much glare and glitter around them.

“an’ i’m fond of glare an’ glitter,” he remarked, with a glance at his friend.

“so am i, bob, but—”

at that instant the dinner-bell rang, and the eyes of both glittered—they almost glared—as they turned and made for the companion-hatch, bob exclaiming, “ah, that’s the thing that i’m fond of; glare an’ glitter’s all wery well in its way, but it can’t ’old a candle to grub!”

timothy lumpy seemed to have no difference of opinion with his friend on that point. indeed the other sixty-eight boys seemed to be marvellously united in sentiment about it, for, without an exception, they responded to that dinner-bell with a promptitude quite equal to that secured by military discipline! there was a rattling of feet on decks and ladderways for a few seconds, and then all was quiet while a blessing was asked on the meal.

for many years miss annie macpherson has herself conducted parties of such boys to canada, but the party of which we write happened to be in charge of a gentleman whom we will name the guardian; he was there to keep order, of course, but in truth this was not a difficult matter, for the affections of the boys had been enlisted, and they had already learned to practise self-restraint.

that same day a whale was seen. it produced a sensation among the boys that is not easily described. considerately, and as if on purpose, it swam round the ship and displayed its gigantic proportions; then it spouted as though to show what it could do in that line, and then, as if to make the performance complete and reduce the westminster aquarium to insignificance, it tossed its mighty tail on high, brought it down with a clap like thunder, and finally dived into its native ocean followed by a yell of joyful surprise from the rescued waifs and strays.

there were little boys, perhaps even big ones, in that band, who that day received a lesson of faith from the whale. it taught them that pictures, even extravagant ones, represent great realities. the whale also taught them a lesson of error, as was proved by the remark of one waif to a brother stray:—

“i say, piggie, it ain’t ’ard now, to b’lieve that the whale swallered jonah.”

“you’re right, konky.”

strange interlacing of error with error traversed by truth in this sublunary sphere! piggie was wrong in admitting that. konky was right, for, as every one knows, or ought to know, it was not a whale at all that swallowed jonah, but a “great fish” which was “prepared” for the purpose.

but the voyage of the ocean queen was not entirely made up of calms, and luminous fogs, and bergs, and whales, and food. a volume would be required to describe it all. there was much foul weather as well as fair, during which periods a certain proportion of the little flock, being not very good sailors, sank to depths of misery which they had never before experienced—not even in their tattered days—and even those of them who had got their “sea-legs on,” were not absolutely happy.

“i say, piggie,” asked the waif before mentioned of his chum, (or dosser), konky, “’ow long d’ee think little mouse will go on at his present rate o’ heavin’?”

“i can’t say,” answered the stray, with a serious air; “i ain’t studied the ’uman frame wery much, but i should say, ’e’ll bust by to-morrow if ’e goes on like ’e’s bin doin’.”

a tremendous sound from little mouse, who lay in a neighbouring bunk, seemed to justify the prophecy.

but little mouse did not “bust.” he survived that storm, and got his sea-legs on before the next one.

the voyage, however, was on the whole propitious, and, what with school-lessons and bible-lessons and hymn-singing, and romping, and games of various kinds instituted and engaged in by the guardian, the time passed profitably as well as pleasantly, so that there were, perhaps, some feelings of regret when the voyage drew to an end, and they came in sight of that great land which the norsemen of old discovered; which columbus, re-discovering, introduced to the civilised world, and which, we think, ought in justice to have been named columbia.

and now a new era of life began for those rescued waifs and strays—those east-end diamonds from the great london fields. canada—with its mighty lakes and splendid rivers, its great forests and rich lands, its interesting past, prosperous present, and hopeful future—opened up to view. but there was a shadow on the prospect, not very extensive, it is true, but dark enough to some of them just then, for here the hitherto united band was to be gradually disunited and dispersed, and friendships that had begun to ripen under the sunshine of christian influence were to be broken up, perhaps for ever. the guardian, too, had to be left behind by each member as he was severed from his fellows and sent to a new home among total strangers.

still there were to set off against these things several points of importance. one of these was that the guardian would not part with a single boy until the character of his would-be employer was inquired into, and his intention to deal kindly and fairly ascertained. another point was, that each boy, when handed over to an employer, was not to be left thereafter to care for himself, but his interests were to be watched over and himself visited at intervals by an emissary from the beehive, so that he would not feel friendless or forsaken even though he should have the misfortune to fall into bad hands. the guardian also took care to point out that, amid all these leave-takings and partings, there was one who would “never leave nor forsake” them, and to whom they were indebted for the first helping hand, when they were in their rags and misery, and forsaken of man.

at last the great gulf of saint lawrence was entered, and here the vessel was beset with ice, so that she could not advance at a greater rate than two or three miles an hour for a considerable distance.

soon, however, those fields of frozen sea were passed, and the end of the voyage drew near. then was there a marvellous outbreak of pens, ink, and paper, for the juvenile flock was smitten with a sudden desire to write home before going to the interior of the new land.

it was a sad truth that many of the poor boys had neither parent nor relative to correspond with, but these were none the less eager in their literary work, for had they not miss macpherson and the ladies of the home to write to?

soon after that, the party landed at the far-famed city of quebec, each boy with his bag containing change of linen, and garments, a rug, etcetera; and there, under a shed, thanks were rendered to god for a happy voyage, and prayer offered for future guidance.

then the guardian commenced business. he had momentous work to do. the home of industry and its work are well-known in canada. dusty diamonds sent out from the beehive were by that time appreciated, and therefore coveted; for the western land is vast, and the labourers are comparatively few. people were eager to get the boys, but the character of intending employers had to be inquired into, and this involved care. then the suitability of boys to situations had to be considered. however, this was finally got over, and a few of the reclaimed waifs were left at quebec. this was the beginning of the dispersion.

“i don’t like it at all,” said bobby frog to his friend tim lumpy, that evening in the sleeping car of the railway train that bore them onward to montreal; “they’ll soon be partin’ you an’ me, an’ that’ll be worse than wallerin’ in the mud of vitechapel.”

bobby said this with such an expression of serious anxiety that his little friend was quite touched.

“i hope not, bob,” he replied. “what d’ee say to axin’ our guardian to put us both into the same sitivation?”

bobby thought that this was not a bad idea, and as they rolled along these two little waifs gravely discussed their future prospects. it was the same with many others of the band, though not a few were content to gaze out of the carriage windows, pass a running commentary on the new country, and leave their future entirely to their guardian. soon, however, the busy little tongues and brains ceased to work, and ere long were steeped in slumber.

at midnight the train stopped, and great was the sighing and groaning, and earnest were the requests to be let alone, for a batch of the boys had to be dropped at a town by the way. at last they were aroused, and with their bags on their shoulders prepared to set off under a guide to their various homes. soon the sleepiness wore off, and, when the train was about to start, the reality of the parting seemed to strike home, and the final handshakings and good wishes were earnest and hearty.

thus, little by little, the band grew less and less.

montreal swallowed up a good many. while there the whole band went out for a walk on the heights above the reservoir with their guardian, guided by a young scotsman.

“that’s a jolly-lookin’ ’ouse, tim,” said bob frog to his friend.

the scotsman overheard the remark.

“yes,” said he, “it is a nice house, and a good jolly man owns it. he began life as a poor boy. and do you see that other villa—the white one with the green veranda among the trees? that was built by a man who came out from england just as you have done, only without anybody to take care of him; god however cared for him, and now you see his house. he began life without a penny, but he had three qualities which will make a man of any boy, no matter what circumstances he may be placed in. he was truthful, thorough, and trustworthy. men knew that they might believe what he said, be sure of the quality of what he did, and could rely upon his promises. there was another thing much in his favour, he was a total abstainer. drink in this country ruins hundreds of men and women, just as in england. shun drink, boys, as you would a serpent.”

“i wouldn’t shun a drink o’ water just now if i could get it,” whispered bobby to his friend, “for i’m uncommon thirsty.”

at this point the whole band were permitted to disperse in the woods, where they went about climbing and skipping like wild squirrels, for these novel sights, and scents, and circumstances were overwhelmingly delightful after the dirt and smoke of london.

when pretty well breathed—our waifs were grown too hardy by that time to be easily exhausted—the guardian got them to sit round him and sing that sweet hymn:

“shall we gather at the river?”

and tears bedewed many eyes, for they were reminded that there were yet many partings in store before that gathering should take place.

and now the remnant of the band—still a goodly number—proceeded in the direction of the far west. all night they travelled, and reached belleville, where they were received joyfully in the large house presented as a free gift to miss macpherson by the council of the county of hastings. it served as a “distributing home” and centre in canada for the little ones till they could be placed in suitable situations, and to it they might be returned if necessary, or a change of employer required it. this belleville home was afterwards burned to the ground, and rebuilt by sympathising canadian friends.

but we may not pause long here. the far west still lies before us. our gradually diminishing band must push on.

“it’s the sea!” exclaimed the boy who had been named little mouse, alias robbie dell.

“no, it ain’t,” said konky, who was a good deal older; “it’s a lake.”

“ontario,” said the guardian, “one of the noble fresh-water seas of canada.”

onward, ever onward, is the watchword just now—dropping boys like seed-corn as they go! woods and fields, and villas, and farms, and waste-lands, and forests, and water, fly past in endless variety and loveliness.

“a panoramy without no end!” exclaimed tim lumpy after one of his long gazes of silent admiration.

“wot a diff’rence!” murmured bobby frog. “wouldn’t mother an’ daddy an’ hetty like it, just!”

the city of toronto came in sight. the wise arrangements for washing in canadian railway-cars had been well used by the boys, and pocket-combs also. they looked clean and neat and wonderfully solemn as they landed at the station.

but their fame had preceded them. an earnest crowd came to see the boys, among whom were some eager to appropriate.

“i’ll take that lad,” said one bluff farmer, stepping forward, and pointing to a boy whose face had taken his fancy.

“and i want six boys for our village,” said another.

“i want one to learn my business,” said a third, “and i’ll learn him as my own son. here are my certificates of character from my clergyman and the mayor of the place i belong to.”

“i like the looks of that little fellow,” said another, pointing to bob frog, “and should like to have him.”

“does you, my tulip?” said bobby, whose natural tendency to insolence had not yet been subdued; “an’ don’t you vish you may get ’im!”

it is but justice to bobby, however, to add, that this remark was made entirely to himself.

to all these flattering offers the guardian turned a deaf ear, until he had passed through the crowd and marshalled his boys in an empty room of the dep?t. then inquiries were made; the boys’ characters and capacities explained; suitability on both sides considered; the needs of the soul as well as the body referred to and pressed; and, finally, the party went on its way greatly reduced in numbers.

thus they dwindled and travelled westward until only our friend bobby, tim, konky, and little mouse remained with the guardian, whose affections seemed to intensify as fewer numbers were left on which they might concentrate.

soon the little mouse was caught. a huge backwoods farmer, who could have almost put him in his coat-pocket, took a fancy to him. the fancy seemed to be mutual, for, after a tearful farewell to the guardian, the mouse went off with the backwoodsman quite contentedly.

then konky was disposed of. a hearty old lady with a pretty daughter and a slim son went away with him in triumph, and the band was reduced to two.

“i do believe,” whispered bob to tim, “that he’s goin’ to let us stick together after all.”

“you are right, my dear boy,” said the guardian, who overheard the remark. “a family living a considerable distance off wishes to have two boys. i have reason to believe that they love the lord jesus, and will treat you well. so, as i knew you wished to be together, i have arranged for your going to live with them.”

as the journey drew to a close, the guardian seemed to concentrate his whole heart on the little waifs whom he had conducted so far, and he gave them many words of counsel, besides praying with and for them.

at last, towards evening, the train rushed into a grand pine-wood. it soon rushed out of it again and entered a beautiful piece of country which was diversified by lakelet and rivulet, hill and vale, with rich meadow lands in the hollows, where cattle browsed or lay in the evening sunshine.

the train drew up sharply at a small road-side station. there was no one to get into the cars there, and no one to get out except our two waifs. on the road beyond stood a wagon with a couple of spanking bays in it. on the platform stood a broad-shouldered, deep-chested, short-legged farmer with a face like the sun, and a wide-awake on the back of his bald head.

“mr merryboy, i presume?” said the guardian, descending from the car.

“the same. glad to see you. are these my boys?”

he spoke in a quick, hearty, off-hand manner, but bobby and tim hated him at once, for were they not on the point of leaving their last and best friend, and was not this man the cause?

they turned to their guardian to say farewell, and, even to their own surprise, burst into tears.

“god bless you, dear boys,” he said, while the guard held open the door of the car as if to suggest haste; “good-bye. it won’t be very long i think before i see you again. farewell.”

he sprang into the car, the train glided away, and the two waifs stood looking wistfully after it with the first feelings of desolation that had entered their hearts since landing in canada.

“my poor lads,” said mr merryboy, laying a hand on the shoulder of each, “come along with me. home is only six miles off, and i’ve got a pair of spanking horses that will trundle us over in no time.”

the tone of voice, to say nothing of “home” and “spanking horses,” improved matters greatly. both boys thought, as they entered the wagon, that they did not hate him quite so much as at first.

the bays proved worthy of their master’s praise. they went over the road through the forest in grand style, and in little more than half an hour landed bobby and tim at the door of their canadian home.

it was dark by that time, and the ruddy light that shone in the windows and that streamed through the door as it opened to receive them seemed to our waifs like a gleam of celestial light.