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diff --git a/2315-h/2315-h.htm b/2315-h/2315-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1384429 --- /dev/null +++ b/2315-h/2315-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,2957 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<HTML> +<HEAD> + +<META HTTP-EQUIV="Content-Type" CONTENT="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1"> + +<TITLE> +The Project Gutenberg E-text of The Flag-raising, by Kate Douglas Wiggin +</TITLE> + +<STYLE TYPE="text/css"> +BODY { color: Black; + background: White; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-left: 10%; + font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; + text-align: justify } + +P {text-indent: 4% } + +P.noindent {text-indent: 0% } + +P.poem {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 15%; + font-size: small } + +P.letter {text-indent: 0%; + font-size: small ; + margin-left: 10% ; + margin-right: 10% } + +P.finis { text-align: center ; + text-indent: 0% ; + margin-left: 0% ; + margin-right: 0% } + +</STYLE> + +</HEAD> + +<BODY> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Flag-raising, by Kate Douglas Wiggin + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Flag-raising + +Author: Kate Douglas Wiggin + +Posting Date: November 4, 2008 [EBook #2315] +Release Date: September, 2000 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FLAG-RAISING *** + + + + +Produced by Susan L. Farley. HTML version by Al Haines. + + + + + +</pre> + + +<BR><BR> + +<H1 ALIGN="center"> +THE FLAG-RAISING +</H1> + +<BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +by +</H3> + +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +KATE DOUGLAS WIGGIN +</H2> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +CONTENTS +</H2> + +<TABLE ALIGN="center" WIDTH="80%"> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">I. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap01">A DIFFERENCE IN HEARTS</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">II. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap02">REBECCA'S POINT OF VIEW</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">III. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap03">WISDOM'S WAYS</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">IV. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap04">THE SAVING OF THE COLORS</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">V. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap05">THE STATE O' MAINE GIRL</A></TD> +</TR> + +</TABLE> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap01"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +I +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +A DIFFERENCE IN HEARTS +</H3> + +<P> +"I DON' know as I cal'lated to be the makin' of any child," Miranda had +said as she folded Aurelia's letter and laid it in the light-stand +drawer. "I s'posed of course Aurelia would send us the one we asked +for, but it's just like her to palm off that wild young one on somebody +else." +</P> + +<P> +"You remember we said that Rebecca, or even Jenny might come, in case +Hannah could n't," interposed Jane. +</P> + +<P> +"I know we did, but we hadn't any notion it would turn out that way," +grumbled Miranda. +</P> + +<P> +"She was a mite of a thing when we saw her three years ago," ventured +Jane; "she's had time to improve." +</P> + +<P> +"And time to grow worse!" +</P> + +<P> +"Won't it be kind of a privilege to put her on the right track?" asked +Jane timidly. +</P> + +<P> +"I don' know about the privilege part; it'll be considerable work, I +guess. If her mother hasn't got her on the right track by now, she +won't take to it herself all of a sudden." +</P> + +<P> +This depressed and depressing frame of mind had lasted until the +eventful day dawned on which Rebecca was to arrive. +</P> + +<P> +"If she makes as much work after she comes as she has before, we might +as well give up hope of ever gettin' any rest," sighed Miranda as she +hung the dish towels on the barberry bushes at the side door. +</P> + +<P> +"But we should have had to clean house, Rebecca or no Rebecca," urged +Jane; "and I can't see why you've scrubbed and washed and baked as you +have for that one child, nor why you've about bought out Watson's stock +of dry goods." +</P> + +<P> +"I know Aurelia if you don't," responded Miranda. "I've seen her house, +and I've seen that batch o' children, wearin' one another's clothes and +never carin' whether they had 'em on right side out or not; I know what +they've had to live and dress on, and so do you. That child will like +as not come here with a bundle o' things borrowed from the rest o' the +family. She'll have Hannah's shoes and John's undershirts and Mark's +socks most likely. I suppose she never had a thimble on her finger in +her life, but she'll know the feelin' o' one before she's been here +many days. I've bought a piece of unbleached muslin and a piece o' +brown gingham for her to make up; that'll keep her busy. Of course she +won't pick up anything after herself; she probably never saw a duster, +and she'll be as hard to train into our ways as if she was a heathen." +</P> + +<P> +"She'll make a dif'rence," acknowledged Jane, "but she may turn out +more biddable than we think." +</P> + +<P> +"She'll mind when she's spoken to, biddable or not," remarked Miranda +with a shake of the last towel. +</P> + +<P> +Miranda Sawyer had a heart, of course, but she had never used it for +any other purpose than the pumping and circulating of blood. She was +just, conscientious, economical, industrious; a regular attendant at +church and Sunday-school, and a member of the State Missionary and +Bible societies, but in the presence of all these chilly virtues you +longed for one warm little fault, or lacking that, one likable failing, +something to make you sure that she was thoroughly alive. She had never +had any education other than that of the neighborhood district school, +for her desires and ambitions had all pointed to the management of the +house, the farm, and the dairy. Jane, on the other hand, had gone to an +academy, and also to a boarding-school for young ladies; so had +Aurelia; and after all the years that had elapsed there was still a +slight difference in language and in manner between the elder and the +two younger sisters. +</P> + +<P> +Jane, too, had had the inestimable advantage of a sorrow; not the +natural grief at the loss of her aged father and mother, for she had +been resigned to let them go; but something far deeper. She was engaged +to marry young, Tom Carter, who had nothing to marry on, it is true, +but who was sure to have, some time or other. Then the war broke out. +Tom enlisted at the first call. Up to that time Jane had loved him with +a quiet, friendly sort of affection, and had given her country a mild +emotion of the same sort. But the strife, the danger, the anxiety of +the time, set new currents of feeling in motion. Life became something +other than the three meals a day, the round of cooking, washing, +sewing, and churchgoing. Personal gossip vanished from the village +conversation. Big things took the place of trifling ones,—sacred +sorrows of wives and mothers, pangs of fathers and husbands, +self-denials, sympathies, new desire to bear one another's burdens. Men +and women grew fast in those days of the nation's trouble and danger, +and Jane awoke from the vague dull dream she had hitherto called life +to new hopes, new fears, new purposes. Then after a year's anxiety, a +year when one never looked in the newspaper without dread and sickness +of suspense, came the telegram saying that Tom was wounded; and without +so much as asking Miranda's leave, she packed her trunk and started for +the South. She was in time to hold Tom's hand through hours of pain; to +show him for once the heart of a prim New England girl when it is +ablaze with love and grief; to put her arms about him so that he could +have a home to die in, and that was all;—all, but it served. +</P> + +<P> +It carried her through weary months of nursing—nursing of other +soldiers for Tom's dear sake; it sent her home a better woman; and +though she had never left Riverboro in all the years that lay between, +and had grown into the counterfeit presentment of her sister and of all +other thin, spare, New England spinsters, it was something of a +counterfeit, and underneath was still the faint echo of that wild +heartbeat of her girlhood. Having learned the trick of beating and +loving and suffering, the poor faithful heart persisted, although it +lived on memories and carried on its sentimental operations mostly in +secret. +</P> + +<P> +"You're soft, Jane," said Miranda once; "you allers was soft, and you +allers will be. If't wa'n't for me keeping you stiffened up, I b'lieve +you'd leak out o' the house into the dooryard." +</P> + +<P> +It was already past the appointed hour for Mr. Cobb and his coach to be +lumbering down the street. +</P> + +<P> +"The stage ought to be here," said Miranda, glancing nervously at the +tall clock for the twentieth time. "I guess everything's done. I've +tacked up two thick towels back of her washstand and put a mat under +her slop-jar; but children are awful hard on furniture. I expect we +sha'n't know this house a year from now." Jane's frame of mind was +naturally depressed and timorous, having been affected by Miranda's +gloomy presages of evil to come. The only difference between the +sisters in this matter was that while Miranda only wondered how they +could endure Rebecca, Jane had flashes of inspiration in which she +wondered how Rebecca would endure them. It was in one of these flashes +that she ran up the back stairs to put a vase of apple blossoms and a +red tomato-pincushion on Rebecca's bureau. +</P> + +<P> +The stage rumbled to the side door of the brick house, and Mr. Cobb +handed Rebecca out like a real lady passenger. She alighted with great +circumspection, put a bunch of flowers in her aunt Miranda's hand, and +received her salute; it could hardly be called a kiss without injuring +the fair name of that commodity. "You need n't 'a'bothered to bring +flowers," remarked that gracious and tactful lady; "the garden's always +full of 'em here when it comes time." +</P> + +<P> +Jane then kissed Rebecca, giving a somewhat better imitation of the +real thing than her sister. +</P> + +<P> +"Put the trunk in the entry, Jeremiah, and we'll get it carried +upstairs this afternoon," she said. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll take it up for ye now, if ye say the word, girls." +</P> + +<P> +"No, no; don't leave the horses; somebody'll be comin' past, and we can +call 'em in." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, good-by, Rebecca; good-day, Mirandy 'n' Jane. You've got a +lively little girl there. I guess she'll be a first-rate company +keeper." +</P> + +<P> +Miss Sawyer shuddered openly at the adjective "lively" as applied to a +child; her belief being that though children might be seen, if +absolutely necessary, they certainly should never be heard if she could +help it. "We're not much used to noise, Jane and me," she remarked +acidly. +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Cobb saw that he had spoken indiscreetly, but he was too unused to +argument to explain himself readily, so he drove away, trying to think +by what safer word than "lively" he might have described his +interesting little passenger. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll take you up and show you your room, Rebecca," Miss Miranda said. +"Shut the mosquito nettin' door tight behind you, so's to keep the +flies out; it ain't fly time yet, but I want you to start right; take +your parcel along with you and then you won't have to come down for it; +always make your head save your heels. Rub your feet on that braided +rug; hang your hat and cape in the entry as you go past." +</P> + +<P> +"It's my best hat," said Rebecca. +</P> + +<P> +"Take it upstairs then and put it in the clothes-press; but I shouldn't +'a' thought you'd 'a' worn your best hat on the stage." +</P> + +<P> +"It's my only hat," explained Rebecca. "My every-day hat was n't good +enough to bring. Sister Fanny's going to finish it." +</P> + +<P> +"Lay your parasol in the entry closet." +</P> + +<P> +"Do you mind if I keep it in my room, please? It always seems safer." +</P> + +<P> +"There ain't any thieves hereabouts, and if there was, I guess they +wouldn't make for your sunshade; but come along. Remember to always go +up the back way; we don't use the front stairs on account o' the +carpet; take care o' the turn and don't ketch your foot; look to your +right and go in. When you've washed your face and hands and brushed +your hair you can come down, and by and by we'll unpack your trunk and +get you settled before supper. Ain't you got your dress on hind side +foremost?" +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca drew her chin down and looked at the row of smoked pearl +buttons running up and down the middle of her flat little chest. "Hind +side foremost? Oh, I see! No, that's all right. If you have seven +children you can't keep buttonin' and unbuttonin' 'em all the +time—they have to do themselves. We're always buttoned up in front at +our house. Mira's only three, but she's buttoned up in front, too." +</P> + +<P> +Miranda said nothing as she closed the door, but her looks were more +eloquent than words. +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca stood perfectly still in the centre of the floor and looked +about her. There was a square of oilcloth in front of each article of +furniture and a drawn-in rug beside the single four poster, which was +covered with a fringed white dimity counterpane. +</P> + +<P> +Everything was as neat as wax, but the ceilings were much higher than +Rebecca was accustomed to. It was a north room, and the window, which +was long and narrow, looked out on the back buildings and the barn. +</P> + +<P> +It was not the room, which was far more comfortable than Rebecca's own +at Sunnybrook Farm, nor the lack of view, nor yet the long journey, for +she was not conscious of weariness; it was not the fear of a strange +place, for she adored new places and new sensations; it was because of +some curious blending of uncomprehended emotions that Rebecca stood her +beloved pink sunshade in the corner, tore off her best hat, flung it on +the bureau with the porcupine quills on the under side, and stripping +down the dimity spread, precipitated herself into the middle of the bed +and pulled the counterpane over her head. +</P> + +<P> +In a moment the door opened with a clatter of the latch. +</P> + +<P> +Knocking was a refinement quite unknown in Riverboro, and if it had +been heard of, it would never have been wasted on a child. Miss Miranda +entered, and as her eye wandered about the vacant room, it fell upon a +white and tempestuous ocean of counterpane, an ocean breaking into +strange movements of wave and crest and billow. +</P> + +<P> +"Rebecca!" +</P> + +<P> +The tone in which the word was voiced gave it all the effect of having +been shouted from the housetops. +</P> + +<P> +A dark ruffled head and two frightened eyes appeared above the dimity +spread. +</P> + +<P> +"What are you layin' on your good bed in the daytime for, messin' up +the feathers, and dirtyin' the comforter with your dusty boots?" +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca rose guiltily. There seemed no excuse to make. Her offense was +beyond explanation or apology. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm sorry, Aunt Mirandy-something came over me; I don't know what." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, if it comes over you very soon again we'll have to find out what +'t is. Spread your bed up smooth this minute, for 'Bijah Flagg's +bringin' your trunk upstairs, and I wouldn't let him see such a +cluttered-up room for anything; he'd tell it all over town." +</P> + +<P> +When Mr. Cobb had put up his horses that night he carried a kitchen +chair to the side of his wife, who was sitting on the back porch. +</P> + +<P> +"I brought a little Randall girl down on the stage from Maplewood +to-day, mother. She's related to the Sawyer girls an' is goin' to live +with 'em," he said, as he sat down and began to whittle. "She's +Aurelia's child, the sister that ran away with Susan Randall's son just +before we come here to live." +</P> + +<P> +"How old a child?" +</P> + +<P> +"Bout ten, or somewhere along there, an' small for her age; but land! +she might be a hundred to hear her talk! She kept me jumpin' tryin' to +answer her! Of all the queer children I ever come across she's the +queerest. She ain't no beauty—her face is all eyes; but if she ever +grows up to them eyes an' fills out a little she'll make folks stare. +Land, mother! I wish 't you could 'a' heard her talk." +</P> + +<P> +"I don't see what she had to talk about, a child like that, to a +stranger," replied Mrs. Cobb. +</P> + +<P> +"Stranger or no stranger, 't would n't make no difference to her. She'd +talk to a pump or a grindstone; she'd talk to herself ruther 'n keep +still." +</P> + +<P> +"What did she talk about? +</P> + +<P> +"Blamed if I can repeat any of it. She kept me so surprised I didn't +have my wits about me. She had a little pink sunshade—it kind o' +looked like a doll's umberella, 'n' she clung to it like a burr to a +woolen stockin'. I advised her to open it up—the sun was so hot; but +she said no, 't would fade, an' she tucked it under her dress. 'It's +the dearest thing in life to me,' says she, 'but it's a dreadful care.' +Them's the very words, an' it's all the words I remember. 'It's the +dearest thing in life to me, but it's an awful care!'"—here Mr. Cobb +laughed aloud as he tipped his chair back against the side of the +house. "There was another thing, but I can't get it right exactly. She +was talkin' 'bout the circus parade an' the snake charmer in a gold +chariot, an' says she, 'She was so beautiful beyond compare, Mr. Cobb, +that it made you have lumps in your throat to look at her.' She'll be +comin' over to see you, mother, an' you can size her up for yourself, I +don' know how she'll git on with Mirandy Sawyer—poor little soul!" +</P> + +<P> +This doubt was more or less openly expressed in Riverboro, which, +however, had two opinions on the subject; one that it was a most +generous thing in the Sawyer girls to take one of Aurelia's children to +educate, the other that the education would be bought at a price wholly +out of proportion to its real value. +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca's first letters to her mother would seem to indicate that she +cordially coincided with the latter view of the situation. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap02"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +II +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +REBECCA'S POINT OF VIEW +</H3> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +DEAR MOTHER,—I am safely here. My dress was not much tumbled and Aunt +Jane helped me press it out. I like Mr. Cobb very much. He chews +tobacco but throws newspapers straight up to the doors of the houses. I +rode outside with him a little while, but got inside before I got to +Aunt Miranda's house. I did not want to, but thought you would like it +better. Miranda is such a long word that I think I will say Aunt M. and +Aunt J. in my Sunday letters. Aunt J. has given me a dictionary to look +up all the hard words in. It takes a good deal of time and I am glad +people can talk without stoping to spell. It is much eesier to talk +than write and much more fun. The brick house looks just the same as +you have told us. The parler is splendid and gives YOU creeps and +chills when you look in the door. The furnature is ellergant too, and +all the rooms but there are no good sitting-down places exsept in the +kitchen. The same cat is here but they never save the kittens and the +cat is too old to play with. Hannah told me once you ran away to be +married to father and I can see it would be nice. If Aunt M. would run +away I think I should like to live with Aunt J. She does not hate me as +bad as Aunt M. does. Tell Mark he can have my paint box, but I should +like him to keep the red cake in case I come home again. I hope Hannah +and John do mot get tired doing my work. +<BR><BR> +Your afectionate friend +<BR> +REBECCA. +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +P. S. Please give the piece of poetry to John because he likes my +poetry even when it is not very good. This piece is not very good but +it is true but I hope you won't mind what is in it as you ran away. +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + This house is dark and dull and dreer<BR> + No light doth shine from far or near<BR> + Its like the tomb.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + And those of us who live herein<BR> + Are almost as dead as serrafim<BR> + Though not as good.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + My guardian angel is asleep<BR> + At leest he doth not virgil keep<BR> + Ah! Woe is me!<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + Then give me back my lonely farm<BR> + Where none alive did wish me harm<BR> + Dear home of youth!<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +P.S. again. I made the poetry like a piece in a book but could not get +it right at first. You see "tomb" and "good" do not sound well together +but I wanted to say "tomb" dreadfully and as serrafim are always good I +could n't take that out. I have made it over now. It does not say my +thoughts as well but think it is more right. Give the best one to John +as he keeps them in a box with his bird's eggs. This is the best one. +</P> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +SUNDAY THOUGHTS +<BR> +BY +<BR> +REBECCA ROWENA RANDALL +</H4> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + This house is dark and dull and drear<BR> + No light doth shine from far or near<BR> + Nor ever could.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + And those of us who live herein<BR> + Are most as dead as seraphim<BR> + Though not as good.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + My guardian angel is asleep<BR> + At least he doth no vigil keep<BR> + But far doth roam.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + Then give me back my lonely farm<BR> + Where none alive did wish me harm,<BR> + Dear childhood home!<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +DEAR MOTHER,—I am thrilling with unhappyness this morning. I got that +out of a book called Cora The Doctor's Wife. Cora's husband's mother +was very cross and unfeeling to her like Aunt M. to me. I wish Hannah +had come instead of me for it was Hannah that Aunt M. wanted and she is +better than I am and does not answer back so quick. Are there any +peaces of my buff calico. Aunt J. wants enough to make a new waste, +button behind, so I wont look so outlandish. The stiles are quite +pretty in Riverboro and those at Meeting quite ellergant, more so than +in Temperance. +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + This town is stilish, gay and fair,<BR> + And full of wellthy riches rare,<BR> + But I would pillow on my arm<BR> + The thought of my sweet Brookside Farm.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +School is pretty good. The Teacher can answer more questions than the +Temperance one but not so many as I can ask. I am smarter than all the +girls but one but not so smart as two boys. Emma Jane can add and +subtract in her head like a streek of lightning and knows the speling +book right through but has no thoughts of any kind. She is in the Third +Reader but does not like stories in books. I am in the Sixth Reader but +just because I cannot say the seven multiplication Table Miss Dearborn +threttens to put me in the baby primer class with Elijah and Elisha +Simpson little twins. +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + Sore is my heart and bent my stubborn pride,<BR> + With Lijah and with Lisha am I tied,<BR> + My soul recoyles like Cora Doctor's Wife,<BR> + Like her I feer I cannot bare this life.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +I am going to try for the speling prize but fear I cannot get it. I +would not care but wrong speling looks dreadful in poetry. Last Sunday +when I found seraphim in the dictionary I was ashamed I had made it +serrafim but seraphim is not a word you can guess at like another long +one, outlandish, in this letter which spells itself. Miss Dearborn says +use the words you can spell and if you cant spell seraphim make angel +do but angels are not just the same as seraphims. Seraphims are +brighter whiter and have bigger wings and I think are older and longer +dead than angels which are just freshly dead and after a long time in +heaven around the great white throne grow to be seraphims. +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +I sew on brown gingham dresses every afternoon when Emma Jane and the +Simpsons are playing house or running on the Logs when their mothers do +not know it. Their mothers are afraid they will drown and aunt M. is +afraid I will wet my clothes so will not let me either. I can play from +half past four to supper and after supper a little bit and Saturday +afternoons. I am glad our cow has a calf and it is spotted. It is going +to be a good year for apples and hay so you and John will be glad and +we can pay a little more morgage. Miss Dearborn asked us what is the +object of edducation and I said the object of mine was to help pay off +the morgage. She told Aunt M. and I had to sew extra for punishment +because she says a morgage is disgrace like stealing or smallpox and it +will be all over town that we have one on our farm. Emma Jane is not +morgaged nor Richard Carter nor Dr. Winship but the Simpsons are. +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + Rise my soul, strain every nerve,<BR> + Thy morgage to remove,<BR> + Gain thy mother's heartfelt thanks<BR> + Thy family's grateful love.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +Pronounce family quick or it won't sound right. +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +Your loving little friend<BR> + REBECCA.<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +DEAR JOHN,—YOU remember when we tide the new dog in the barn how he +bit the rope and howled. I am just like him only the brick house is the +barn and I can not bite Aunt M. because I must be grateful and +edducation is going to be the making of me and help you pay off the +mortgage when we grow up. +<BR><BR> +Your loving<BR> + BECKY.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap03"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +III. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +WISDOM'S WAYS +</H3> + +<P> +THE day of Rebecca's arrival had been Friday, and on the Monday +following she began her education at the school which was in Riverboro +Centre, about a mile distant. Miss Sawyer borrowed a neighbor's horse +and wagon and drove her to the schoolhouse, interviewing the teacher, +Miss Dearborn, arranging for books, and generally starting the child on +the path that was to lead to boundless knowledge. +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca walked to school after the first morning. She loved this part +of the day's programme. When the dew was not too heavy and the weather +was fair there was a short cut through the woods. She turned off the +main road, crept through Joshua Woodman's bars, waved away Mrs. +Carter's cows, trod the short grass of the pasture, with its well-worn +path running through gardens of buttercups and whiteweed, and groves of +boxberry leaves and sweet fern. She descended a little hill, jumped +from stone to stone across a woodland brook, startling the drowsy +frogs, who were always winking and blinking in the morning sun. Then +came the "woodsy bit," with her feet pressing the slippery carpet of +brown pine needles; the woodsy bit so full of dewy morning +surprises,—fungous growths of brilliant orange and crimson springing +up around the stumps of dead trees, beautiful things born in a single +night; and now and then the miracle of a little clump of waxen Indian +pipes, seen just quickly enough to be saved from her careless tread. +Then she climbed a stile, went through a grassy meadow, slid under +another pair of bars, and came out into the road again, having gained +nearly half a mile. +</P> + +<P> +How delicious it all was! Rebecca clasped her Quackenbos's Grammar and +Greenleaf's Arithmetic with a joyful sense of knowing her lessons. Her +dinner pail swung from her right hand, and she had a blissful +consciousness of the two soda biscuits spread with butter and syrup, +the baked cup-custard, the doughnut, and the square of hard +gingerbread. Sometimes she said whatever "piece" she was going to speak +on the next Friday afternoon. +</P> + +<P> +"A soldier of the Legion lay dying in Algiers, There was lack of +woman's nursing, there was dearth of woman's tears." +</P> + +<P> +How she loved the swing and the sentiment of it! How her young voice +quivered whenever she came to the refrain:— +</P> + +<P> +"But we'll meet no more at Bingen, dear Bingen on the Rhine." +</P> + +<P> +It always sounded beautiful in her ears, as she sent her tearful little +treble into the clear morning air. +</P> + +<P> +Another early favorite (for we must remember that Rebecca's only +knowledge of the great world of poetry consisted of the selections in +vogue in the old school Readers) was:— +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + "Woodman, spare that tree!<BR> + Touch not a single bough!<BR> + In youth it sheltered me,<BR> + And I'll protect it now."<BR> +</P> + +<P> +When Emma Jane Perkins walked through the "short cut" with her, the two +children used to render this with appropriate dramatic action. Emma +Jane always chose to be the woodman because she had nothing to do but +raise on high an imaginary axe. On the one occasion when she essayed +the part of the tree's romantic protector, she represented herself as +feeling "so awful foolish" that she refused to undertake it again, much +to the secret delight of Rebecca, who found the woodman's role much too +tame for her vaulting ambition. She reveled in the impassioned appeal +of the poet, and implored the ruthless woodman to be as brutal as +possible with the axe, so that she might properly put greater spirit +into her lines. One morning, feeling more frisky than usual, she fell +upon her knees and wept in the woodman's petticoat. Curiously enough, +her sense of proportion rejected this as soon as it was done. +</P> + +<P> +"That wasn't right, it was silly, Emma Jane; but I'll tell you where it +might come in—in 'Give me Three Grains of Corn.' You be the mother, +and I'll be the famishing Irish child. For pity's sake put the axe +down; you are not the woodman any longer!" +</P> + +<P> +"What'll I do with my hands, then?" asked Emma Jane. +</P> + +<P> +"Whatever you like," Rebecca answered wearily; "you're just a +mother—that's all. What does your mother do with her hands? Nowhere +goes! +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + "'Give me three grains of corn, mother,<BR> + Only three grains of corn,<BR> + It will keep the little life I have<BR> + Till the coming of the morn.'"<BR> +</P> + +<P> +This sort of thing made Emma Jane nervous and fidgety, but she was +Rebecca's slave and obeyed her lightest commands. At the last pair of +bars the two girls were sometimes met by a detachment of the Simpson +children, who lived in a black house with a red door and a red barn +behind, on the Blueberry Plains road. Rebecca felt an interest in the +Simpsons from the first, because there were so many of them and they +were so patched and darned, just like her own brood at the home farm. +</P> + +<P> +The little schoolhouse with its flagpole on top and its two doors in +front, one for boys and the other for girls, stood on the crest of a +hill, with rolling fields and meadows on one side, a stretch of pine +woods on the other, and the river glinting and sparkling in the +distance. It boasted no attractions within. All was as bare and ugly +and uncomfortable as it well could be, for the villages along the river +expended so much money in repairing and rebuilding bridges that they +were obliged to be very economical in school privileges. The teacher's +desk and chair stood on a platform in one corner; there was an uncouth +stove, never blackened oftener than once a year, a map of the United +States, two blackboards, a ten-quart tin pail of water and long-handled +dipper on a corner shelf, and wooden desks and benches for the +scholars, who only numbered twenty in Rebecca's time. The seats were +higher in the back of the room, and the more advanced and longer-legged +pupils sat there, the position being greatly to be envied, as they were +at once nearer to the windows and farther from the teacher. +</P> + +<P> +There were classes of a sort, although nobody, broadly speaking, +studied the same book with anybody else, or had arrived at the same +degree of proficiency in any one branch of learning. Rebecca in +particular was so difficult to classify that Miss Dearborn at the end +of a fortnight gave up the attempt altogether. She read with Dick +Carter and Living Perkins, who were fitting for the academy; recited +arithmetic with lisping little "Thuthan Thimpthon;" geography with Emma +Jane Perkins, and grammar after school hours to Miss Dearborn alone. +Full to the brim as she was of clever thoughts and quaint fancies, she +made at first but a poor hand at composition. The labor of writing and +spelling, with the added difficulties of punctuation and capitals, +interfered sadly with the free expression of ideas. She took history +with Alice Robinson's class, which was attacking the subject of the +Revolution, while Rebecca was bidden to begin with the discovery of +America. In a week she had mastered the course of events up to the +Revolution, and in ten days had arrived at Yorktown, where the class +had apparently established summer quarters. Then finding that extra +effort would only result in her reciting with the oldest Simpson boy, +she deliberately held herself back, for wisdom's ways were not those of +pleasantness nor her paths those of peace if one were compelled to +tread them in the company of Seesaw Simpson. Samuel Simpson was +generally called Seesaw, because of his difficulty in making up his +mind. Whether it were a question of fact, of spelling, or of date, of +going swimming or fishing, of choosing a book in the Sunday-school +library or a stick of candy at the village store, he had no sooner +determined on one plan of action than his wish fondly reverted to the +opposite one. Seesaw was pale, flaxen haired, blue eyed, round +shouldered, and given to stammering when nervous. Perhaps because of +his very weakness, Rebecca's decision of character had a fascination +for him, and although she snubbed him to the verge of madness, he could +never keep his eyes away from her. The force with which she tied her +shoe when the lacing came undone, the flirt over shoulder she gave her +black braid when she was excited or warm, her manner of studying,—book +on desk, arms folded, eyes fixed on the opposite wall,—all had an +abiding charm for Seesaw Simpson. When, having obtained permission, she +walked to the water pail in the corner and drank from the dipper, +unseen forces dragged Seesaw from his seat to go and drink after her. +It was not only that there was something akin to association and +intimacy in drinking next, but there was the fearful joy of meeting her +in transit and receiving a cold and disdainful look from her wonderful +eyes. +</P> + +<P> +On a certain warm day in summer Rebecca's thirst exceeded the bounds of +propriety. When she asked a third time for permission to quench it at +the common fountain Miss Dearborn nodded "yes," but lifted her eyebrows +unpleasantly as Rebecca neared the desk. As she replaced the dipper +Seesaw promptly raised his hand, and Miss Dearborn indicated a weary +affirmative. +</P> + +<P> +"What is the matter with you, Rebecca?" she asked. +</P> + +<P> +"It is a very thirsty morning," answered Rebecca. +</P> + +<P> +There seemed nothing humorous about this reply, which was merely the +statement of a fact, but an irrepressible titter ran through the +school. Miss Dearborn did not enjoy jokes neither made nor understood +by herself, and her face flushed. +</P> + +<P> +"I think you had better stand by the pail for five minutes, Rebecca; it +may help you to control your thirst." +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca's heart fluttered. She to stand in the corner by the water pail +and be stared at by all the scholars! She unconsciously made a gesture +of angry dissent and moved a step nearer her seat, but was arrested by +Miss Dearborn's command in a still firmer voice. +</P> + +<P> +"Stand by the pail, Rebecca!—Samuel Simpson how many times have you +asked for water already?" +</P> + +<P> +"This is the f-f-fourth." +</P> + +<P> +"Don't touch the dipper, please. The school has done nothing but drink +all day; it has had no time whatever to study. What is the matter with +you, Samuel?" +</P> + +<P> +"It is a v-very thirsty m-morning," remarked Samuel, looking at Rebecca +while the school tittered. +</P> + +<P> +"I judged so. Stand by the other side of the pail, with Rebecca." +Rebecca's head was bowed with shame and wrath. Life looked too black a +thing to be endured. The punishment was bad enough, but to be coupled +in correction with Seesaw Simpson was beyond human endurance. +</P> + +<P> +Singing was the last exercise in the afternoon, and Minnie Smellie +chose "Shall we Gather at the River?" It was a curious choice and +seemed to hold some secret association with the situation and general +progress of events; or at any rate there was apparently some obscure +reason for the energy and vim with which the scholars looked at the +empty water pail as they shouted the choral invitation again and +again:— +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + "Shall we gather at the river,<BR> + The beautiful, the beautiful river?"<BR> +</P> + +<P> +Miss Dearborn stole a look at Rebecca's bent head, and was frightened. +The child's face was pale save for two red spots glowing on her checks. +Tears hung on her lashes; her breath came and went quickly, and the +hand that held her pocket handkerchief trembled like a leaf. +</P> + +<P> +"You may go to your seat, Rebecca," said Miss Dearborn at the end of +the first song. "Samuel, stay where you are till the close of school. +And let me tell you, scholars, that I asked Rebecca to stand by the +pail only to break up this habit of incessant drinking, which is +nothing but empty-mindedness and desire to walk to and fro over the +floor. Every time Rebecca has asked for a drink to-day the whole school +has gone to the pail like a regiment. She is really thirsty, and I dare +say I ought to have punished you for following her example, not her for +setting it. What shall we sing now, Alice?" +</P> + +<P> +"'The Old Oaken Bucket,' please." +</P> + +<P> +"Think of something dry, Alice, and change the subject. Yes, 'The Star +Spangled Banner' if you like, or anything else." Rebecca sank into her +seat and pulled the singing book from her desk. Miss Dearborn's public +explanation had shifted some of the weight from her heart, and she felt +a trifle raised in her self-esteem. +</P> + +<P> +Under cover of the general relaxation of singing, offerings of +respectful sympathy began to make their appearance at her shrine. +Living Perkins, who could not sing, dropped a piece of maple sugar in +her lap as he passed her on his way to the blackboard to draw the map +of Maine, while Alice Robinson rolled a perfectly new slate pencil over +the floor with her foot until it reached Rebecca's place. +</P> + +<P> +Altogether existence grew brighter, and when she was left alone with +the teacher for her grammar lesson she had nearly recovered her +equanimity, which was more than Miss Dearborn had. The last clattering +foot had echoed through the hall, Seesaw's backward glance of penitence +had been met and answered defiantly by one of cold disdain. +</P> + +<P> +"Rebecca, I am afraid I punished you more than I meant," said Miss +Dearborn, who was only eighteen herself, and in her year of teaching +country schools had never encountered a child like Rebecca. +</P> + +<P> +"I had n't missed a question this whole day, nor whispered either," +quavered the culprit; "and I don't think I ought to be shamed just for +drinking." +</P> + +<P> +"You started all the others, or it seemed as if you did. Whatever you +do they all do, whether you laugh, or write notes, or ask to leave the +room, or drink; and it must be stopped." +</P> + +<P> +"Sam Simpson is a copycoat!" stormed Rebecca. "I would n't have minded +standing in the corner alone—that is, not so very much; but I couldn't +bear standing with him." +</P> + +<P> +"I saw that you could n't, and that's the reason I told you to take +your seat, and left him in the corner. Remember that you are a stranger +in the place, and they take more notice of what you do, so you must be +careful. Now let's have our conjugations. Give me the verb 'to be,' +potential mood, past perfect tense." +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> + "I might have been<BR> + Thou mightst have been<BR> + He might have been<BR> + We might have been<BR> + You might have been<BR> + They might have been"<BR> +</P> + +<P> +"Give me an example, please." +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> + "I might have been glad<BR> + Thou mightst have been glad<BR> + He, she, or it might have been glad"<BR> +</P> + +<P> +"'He' or 'she' might have been glad because they are masculine and +feminine, but could 'it' have been glad?" asked Miss Dearborn, who was +very fond of splitting hairs. +</P> + +<P> +"Why not?" asked Rebecca. +</P> + +<P> +"Because 'it' is neuter gender." +</P> + +<P> +"Could n't we say, 'The kitten might have been glad if it had known it +was not going to be drowned'?" +</P> + +<P> +"Ye-es," Miss Dearborn answered hesitatingly, never very sure of +herself under Rebecca's fire; "but though we often speak of a baby, a +chicken, or a kitten as 'it,' they are really masculine or feminine +gender, not neuter." +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca reflected a long moment and then asked, "Is a hollyhock neuter?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh yes, of course it is, Rebecca." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, could n't we say, 'The hollyhock might have been glad to see it +rain, but there was a weak little baby bud growing out of its stalk and +it was afraid it might be hurt by the storm; so the big hollyhock was +kind of afraid, instead of being real glad'?" +</P> + +<P> +Miss Dearborn looked puzzled as she answered, "Of course, Rebecca, +hollyhocks could not be sorry, or glad, or afraid, really." +</P> + +<P> +"We can't tell, I s'pose," replied the child; "but I think they are, +anyway. Now what shall I say?" +</P> + +<P> +"The subjunctive mood, past perfect tense of the verb 'to know.'" +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> + "If I had known<BR> + If thou hadst known<BR> + If he had known<BR> + If we had known<BR> + If you had known<BR> + If they had known"<BR> +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, it is the saddest tense," sighed Rebecca with a little a little +break in her voice; "nothing but ifs, ifs, ifs! And it makes you feel +that if they only had known, things might have been better!" +</P> + +<P> +Miss Dearborn had not thought of it before, but on reflection she +believed the subjective mood was a "sad" one and "if" rather a sorry +"part of speech." +</P> + +<P> +"Give me some examples of the subjective, Rebecca, and that will do for +this afternoon," she said. +</P> + +<P> +"If I had not eaten salt mackerel for breakfast I should not have been +thirsty," said Rebecca with an April smile, as she closed her grammar. +"If thou hadst love me truly thou wouldst not have stood me up in the +corner. If Samuel had not loved wickedness he would not have followed +me to the water pail." +</P> + +<P> +"And if Rebecca had loved the rules of the school she would have +controlled her thirst," finished Miss Dearborn with a kiss, and the two +parted friends. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap04"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +IV +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE SAVING OF THE COLORS +</H3> + +<P> +EVEN when Rebecca had left school, having attained the great age of +seventeen and therefore able to look back over a past incredibly long +and full, she still reckoned time not by years, but by certain +important occurrences. Between these epoch-making events certain other +happenings stood out in bold relief against the gray of dull daily +life. There was the coming of the new minister, for though many were +tried only one was chosen; and finally there was the flag-raising, a +festivity that thrilled Riverboro and Edgewood society from centre to +circumference, a festivity that took place just before she entered the +Female Seminary at Wareham and said good-by to kind Miss Dearborn and +the village school. +</P> + +<P> +There must have been other flag-raisings in history,—even the persons +most interested in this particular one would grudgingly have allowed +that much,—but it would have seemed to them improbable that any such +flag-raising, as theirs could twice glorify the same century. Of some +pageants it is tacitly admitted that there can be no duplicates, and +the flag-raising at Riverboro Centre was one of these; so that it is +small wonder if Rebecca chose it as one of the important dates in her +personal almanac. Mrs. Baxter, the new minister's wife, was the being, +under Providence, who had conceived the first idea of the flag. Mrs. +Baxter communicated her patriotic idea of a new flag to the Dorcas +Society, proposing that the women should cut and make it themselves. +</P> + +<P> +"It may not be quite as good as those manufactured in the large +cities," she said, "but we shall be proud to see our home-made flag +flying in the breeze, and it will mean all the more to the young voters +growing up, to remember that their mothers made it with their own +hands." +</P> + +<P> +"How would it do to let some of the girls help?" modestly asked Miss +Dearborn, the Riverboro teacher. "We might chose the best sewers and +let them put in at least a few stitches, so that they can feel they +have a share in it." +</P> + +<P> +"Just the thing!" exclaimed Mrs. Baxter. "We can cut the stripes and +sew them together, and after we have basted on the white stars the +girls can apply them to the blue ground. We must have it ready for the +campaign rally, and we could n't christen it at a better time than in +this presidential year." +</P> + +<P> +In this way the great enterprise was started, and day by day the +preparations went forward in the two villages. +</P> + +<P> +The boys, as future voters and soldiers, demanded an active share in +the proceedings, and were organized by Squire Bean into a fife and drum +corps, so that by day and night martial but most inharmonious music +woke the echoes, and deafened mothers felt their patriotism oozing out +at the soles of their shoes. Dick Carter was made captain, for his +grandfather had a gold medal given him by Queen Victoria for rescuing +three hundred and twenty-six passengers from a sinking British vessel. +Riverboro thought it high time to pay some graceful tribute to Great +Britain in return for her handsome, conduct to Captain Nahum Carter, +and human imagination could contrive nothing more impressive than a +vicarious share in the flag-raising. +</P> + +<P> +Miss Dearborn was to be Columbia and the older girls of the two schools +were to be the States. Such trade in muslins and red, white, and blue +ribbons had never been known since "Watson kep' store," and the number +of brief white petticoats hanging out to bleach would leave caused the +passing stranger to imagine Riverboro a continual dancing-school. +</P> + +<P> +Juvenile virtue, both male and female, reached an almost impossible +height, for parents had only to lift a finger and say, "You shan't go +to the flag-raising!" and the refractory spirit at once armed itself +for new struggles toward the perfect life. Mr. Jeremiah Cobb had +consented to impersonate Uncle Sam, and was to drive Columbia and the +States to the "raising" on the top of his own stage. Meantime the boys +were drilling, the ladies were cutting and basting and stitching, and +the girls were sewing on stars; for the starry part of the spangled +banner was to remain with each of them in turn until she had performed +her share of the work. +</P> + +<P> +It was felt by one and all a fine and splendid service indeed to help +in the making of the flag, and if Rebecca was proud to be of the chosen +ones, so was her Aunt Jane Sawyer, who had taught her all her delicate +stitches. +</P> + +<P> +On a long-looked-for afternoon in August the minister's wife drove up +to the brick-house door, and handed out the great piece of bunting to +Rebecca, who received it in her arms with as much solemnity as if it +had been a child awaiting baptismal rites. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm so glad!" she sighed happily. "I thought it would never come my +turn!" +</P> + +<P> +"You should have had it a week ago, but Huldah Meserve upset the ink +bottle over her star, and we had to baste on another one. You are the +last, though, and then we shall sew the stars and stripes together, and +Seth Strout will get the top ready for hanging. Just think, it won't be +many days before you children will be pulling the rope with all your +strength, the band will be playing, the men will be cheering, and the +new flag will go higher and higher, till the red, white, and blue shows +against the sky!" +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca's eyes fairly blazed. "Shall I 'hem on' my star, or buttonhole +it?" she asked. +</P> + +<P> +"Look at all the others and make the most beautiful stitches you can, +that's all. It is your star, you know, and you can even imagine it is +your state, and try and have it the best of all. If everybody else is +trying to do the same thing with her state, that will make a great +country, won't it?" +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca's eyes spoke glad confirmation of the idea. "My star, my +state!" she repeated joyously. "Oh, Mrs. Baxter, I'll make such fine +stitches you'll, think the white grew out of the blue!" +</P> + +<P> +The new minister's wife looked pleased to see her spark kindle a flame +in the young heart. "You can sew so much of yourself into your star," +she went on in the glad voice that made her so winsome, "that when you +are an old lady you can put on your specs and find it among all the +others. Good-by! Come up to the parsonage Saturday afternoon; Mr. +Baxter wants to see you." +</P> + +<P> +"Judson, help that dear little genius of a Rebecca all you can!" she +said that night. "I don't know what she may, or may not, come to, some +day; I only wish she were ours! If you could have seen her clasp the +flag tight in her arms and put her cheek against it, and watched the +tears of feeling start in her eyes when I told her that her star was +her state! I kept whispering to myself, "'Covet not thy neighbor's +child! +</P> + +<P> +Daily at four o'clock Rebecca scrubbed her hands almost to the bone, +brushed her hair, and otherwise prepared herself in body, mind, and +spirit for the consecrated labor of sewing on her star. All the time +that her needle cautiously, conscientiously formed the tiny stitches +she was making rhymes "in her head," her favorite achievement being +this:— +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + "Your star, my star, all our stars together,<BR> + They make the dear old banner proud<BR> + To float in the bright fall weather."<BR> +</P> + +<P> +There was much discussion as to which of the girls should impersonate +the State of Maine, for that was felt to be the highest honor in the +gift of the committee. +</P> + +<P> +Alice Robinson was the prettiest child in the village, but she was very +shy and by no means a general favorite. +</P> + +<P> +Minnie Smellie possessed the handsomest dress and a pair of white +slippers and open-work stockings that nearly carried the day, but she +was not at all the person to select for the central figure on the +platform. +</P> + +<P> +Huldah Meserve was next voted upon, and the fact that if she were not +chosen her father might withdraw his subscription to the brass band +fund was a matter for grave consideration. +</P> + +<P> +"I kind of hate to have such a giggler for the State of Maine; let +Huldah be the Goddess of Liberty," proposed Mrs. Burbank, whose +patriotism was more local than national. +</P> + +<P> +"How would Rebecca Randall do for Maine, and let her speak some of her +verses?" suggested the new minister's wife, who, could she have had her +way, would have given all the prominent parts to Rebecca, from Uncle +Sam down. +</P> + +<P> +So, beauty, fashion, and wealth having been tried and found wanting, +the committee discussed the claims of talent, and it transpired that to +the awestricken Rebecca fell the chief plum in the pudding. It was a +tribute to her gifts that there was no jealousy or envy among the other +girls; they readily conceded her special fitness for the role. +</P> + +<P> +Her life had not been pressed down full to the brim of pleasures, and +she had a sort of distrust of joy in the bud. Not until she saw it in +full radiance of bloom did she dare embrace it. She had never read any +verse but Byron, Felicia Hemans, bits of "Paradise Lost," and the +selections in the school readers, but she would have agreed heartily +with the poet who said:— +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + "Not by appointment do we meet delight<BR> + And joy; they heed not our expectancy;<BR> + But round some corner in the streets of life<BR> + They on a sudden clasp us with a smile."<BR> +</P> + +<P> +For many nights before the raising, when she went to her bed, she said +to herself after she had finished her prayers: "It can't be true that +I'm chosen for the State of Maine! It just can't be true! Nobody could +be good enough, but oh, I'll try to be as good as I can! To be going to +Wareham Seminary next week and to be the State of Maine too! Oh! I must +pray hard to God to keep me meek and humble!" +</P> + +<P> +The flag was to be raised on a Tuesday, and on the previous Sunday it +became known to the children that Clara Belle Simpson was coming back +from Acreville, coming to live with Mrs. Fogg and take care of the +baby. Clara Belle was one of Miss Dearborn's original flock, and if she +were left wholly out of the festivities she would be the only girl of +suitable age to be thus slighted; it seemed clear to the juvenile mind, +therefore, that neither she nor her descendants would ever recover from +such a blow. But, under all the circumstances, would she be allowed to +join in the procession? Even Rebecca, the optimistic, feared not, and +the committee confirmed her fears by saying that Abner Simpson's +daughter certainly could not take any prominent part in the ceremony, +but that they hoped Mrs. Fogg would allow her to witness it. +</P> + +<P> +When Abner Simpson, urged by the town authorities, took his wife and +seven children away from Riverboro to Acreville, just over the border +in the next county, Riverboro went to bed leaving its barn and shed +doors unfastened, and drew long breaths of gratitude to Providence. +</P> + +<P> +Of most winning disposition and genial manners, Mr. Simpson had not +that instinctive comprehension of property rights which renders a man a +valuable citizen. +</P> + +<P> +Abner was a most unusual thief, and conducted his operations with a +tact and neighborly consideration none too common in the profession. He +would never steal a man's scythe in haying-time, nor his fur lap-robe +in the coldest of the winter. The picking of a lock offered no +attractions to him; "he wa'n't no burglar," he would have scornfully +asserted. A strange horse and wagon hitched by the roadside was the +most flagrant of his thefts; but it was the small things—the hatchet +or axe on the chopping-block, the tin pans sunning at the side door, a +stray garment bleaching on the grass, a hoe, rake, shovel, or a bag of +early potatoes—that tempted him most sorely; and these appealed to him +not so much for their intrinsic value as because they were so +excellently adapted to "swapping." The swapping was really the +enjoyable part of the procedure, the theft was only a sad but necessary +preliminary; for if Abner himself had been a man of sufficient property +to carry on his business operations independently, it is doubtful if he +would have helped himself so freely to his neighbor's goods. +</P> + +<P> +Riverboro regretted the loss of Mrs. Simpson, who was useful in +scrubbing, cleaning, and washing, and was thought to exercise some +influence over her predatory spouse. There was a story of their early +life together, when they had a farm; a story to the effect that Mrs. +Simpson always rode on every load of hay that her husband took to +Milltown, with the view of keeping him sober through the day. After he +turned out of the country road and approached the metropolis, it was +said that he used to bury the docile lady in the load. He would then +drive on to the scales, have the weight of hay entered in the buyer's +book, take his horses to the stable for feed and water, and when a +favorable opportunity offered he would assist the hot and panting Mrs. +Simpson out of the side or back of the rack, and gallantly brush the +straw from her person. For this reason it was always asserted that +Abner Simpson sold his wife every time he went to Milltown, but the +story was never fully substantiated, and at all events it was the only +suspected blot on meek Mrs. Simpson's personal reputation. +</P> + +<P> +As for the Simpson children, they were missed chiefly as familiar +figures by the roadside; but Rebecca honestly loved Clara Belle, +notwithstanding her Aunt Miranda's opposition to the intimacy. +Rebecca's curious taste in friends was a source of continual anxiety to +her aunt. +</P> + +<P> +"Anything that's human flesh is good enough for her!" Miranda groaned +to Jane. "She'll ride with the rag-sack-and-bottle peddler just as +quick as she would with the minister; she always sets beside the +barefooted young ones at Sabbath school; and she's forever riggin' and +onriggin' that dirty Simpson baby! She reminds me of a puppy that'll +always go to everybody that'll have him!" +</P> + +<P> +It was thought very creditable to Mrs. Fogg that she sent for Clara +Belle to live with her and go to school part of the year. "She'll be +useful," said Mrs. Fogg, "and she'll be out of her father's way, and so +keep honest; though she's so awful homely I've no fears for her. A girl +with her red hair, freckles, and cross-eyes can't fall into no kind of +sin, I don't believe." +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Fogg requested that Clara Belle should be started on her journey +from Acreville by train and come the rest of the way by stage, and she +was disturbed to receive word on Sunday that Mr. Simpson had borrowed a +horse from a new acquaintance, and would himself drive the girl from +Acreville to Riverboro, a distance of thirty-five miles. That he would +arrive in their vicinity on the very night before the flag-raising was +thought by Riverboro to be a public misfortune, and several residents +hastily determined to deny themselves a sight of the festivities and +remain watchfully on their own premises. +</P> + +<P> +On Monday afternoon the children were rehearsing their songs at the +meeting-house. As Rebecca came out on the broad wooden steps she +watched Mrs. Peter Meserve's buggy out of sight, for in front, wrapped +in a cotton sheet, lay the precious flag. After a few chattering +good-byes and weather prophecies with the other girls, she started on +her homeward walk, dropping in at the parsonage to read her verses to +the minister. +</P> + +<P> +He welcomed her gladly as she removed her white cotton gloves (hastily +slipped on outside the door, for ceremony) and pushed back the funny +hat with the yellow and black porcupine quills—the hat with which she +made her first appearance in Riverboro society. +</P> + +<P> +"You've heard the beginning, Mr. Baxter; now will you please tell me if +you like the last verse?" she asked, taking out her paper. "I've only +read it to Alice Robinson, and I think perhaps she can never be a poet, +though she's a splendid writer. Last year when she was twelve she wrote +a birthday poem to herself, and she made 'natal' rhyme with 'Milton,' +which, of course, it wouldn't. I remember every verse ended:— +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + 'This is my day so natal<BR> + And I will follow Milton.'<BR> +</P> + +<P> +Another one of hers was written just because she couldn't help it she +said. This was it:— +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + 'Let me to the hills away,<BR> + Give me pen and paper;<BR> + I'll write until the earth will sway<BR> + The story of my Maker.'"<BR> +</P> + +<P> +The minister could scarcely refrain from smiling, but he controlled +himself that he might lose none of Rebecca's quaint observations. When +she was perfectly at ease, unwatched and uncriticised, she was a +marvelous companion. +</P> + +<P> +"The name of the poem is going to be 'My Star,'" she continued, "and +Mrs. Baxter gave me all the ideas, but somehow there's a kind of +magicness when they get into poetry, don't you think so?" (Rebecca +always talked to grown people as if she were their age, or, a more +subtle and truer distinction, as if they were hers.) +</P> + +<P> +"It has often been so remarked, in different words," agreed the +minister. +</P> + +<P> +"Mrs. Baxter said that each star was a state, and if each state did its +best we should have a splendid country. Then once she said that we +ought to be glad the war is over and the States are all at peace +together; and I thought Columbia must be glad, too, for Miss Dearborn +says she's the mother of all the States. So I'm going to have it end +like this: I did n't write it, I just sewed it while I was working on +my star:— +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + "For it's your star, my star, all the stars together,<BR> + That make our country's flag so proud<BR> + To float in the bright fall weather.<BR> + Northern stars, Southern stars, stars of the East and West,<BR> + Side by side they lie at peace<BR> + On the dear flag's mother-breast."<BR> +</P> + +<P> +"'Oh! many are the poets that are sown by Nature,'" thought the +minister, quoting Wordsworth to himself. "And I wonder what becomes of +them! That's a pretty idea, little Rebecca, and I don't know whether +you or my wife ought to have the more praise. What made you think of +the stars lying on the flag's 'mother-breast'? Were did you get that +word?" +</P> + +<P> +"Why" (and the young poet looked rather puzzled), "that's the way it +is; the flag is the whole country—the mother—and the stars are the +states. The stars had to lie somewhere: 'lap' nor 'arms' wouldn't sound +well with 'West,' so, of course, I said 'breast,'" Rebecca answered, +with some surprise at the question; and the minister put his hand under +her chin and kissed her softly on the forehead when he said good-by at +the door. +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca walked rapidly along in the gathering twilight, thinking of the +eventful morrow. +</P> + +<P> +As she approached the turning on the left, called the old Milltown +road, she saw a white horse and wagon, driven by a man with a rakish, +flapping, Panama hat, come rapidly around the turn and disappear over +the long hills leading down to the falls. There was no mistaking him; +there never was another Abner Simpson, with his lean height, his bushy +reddish hair, the gay cock of his hat, and the long, piratical, +upturned mustaches, which the boys used to say were used as hat-racks +by the Simpson children at night. The old Milltown road ran past Mrs. +Fogg's house, so he must have left Clara Belle there, and Rebecca's +heart glowed to think that her poor little friend need not miss the +raising. +</P> + +<P> +She began to run now, fearful of being late for supper, and covered the +ground to the falls in a brief time. As she crossed the bridge she +again saw Abner Simpson's team, drawn up at the watering-trough. +</P> + +<P> +Coming a little nearer with the view of inquiring for the family, her +quick eye caught sight of something unexpected. A gust of wind blew up +a corner of a linen lap-robe in the back of the wagon, and underneath +it she distinctly saw the white-sheeted bundle that held the flag; the +bundle with a tiny, tiny spot of red bunting peeping out at one corner. +It is true she had eaten, slept, dreamed red, white, and blue for +weeks, but there was no mistaking the evidence of her senses; the +idolized flag, longed for, worked for, sewed for, that flag was in the +back of Abner Simpson's wagon, and if so, what would become of the +raising? +</P> + +<P> +Acting on blind impulse, she ran toward the watering-trough, calling +out in her clear treble "Mr. Simpson! Oh, Mr. Simpson, will you let me +ride a little way with you and hear all about Clara Belle? I'm going +over to the Centre on an errand." (So she was; a most important +errand,—to recover the flag of her country at present in the hands of +the foe!) +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Simpson turned round in his seat and cried heartily, "Certain sure +I will!" for he liked the fair sex, young and old, and Rebecca had +always been a prime favorite with him. "Climb right in! How's +everybody? Glad to see you! The folks talk 'bout you from sun-up to +sun-down, and Clara Belle can't hardly wait for a sight of you!" +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca scrambled up, trembling and pale with excitement. She did not +in the least know what was going to happen, but she was sure that the +flag, when in the enemy's country, must be at least a little safer with +the State of Maine sitting on top of it! Mr. Simpson began a long +monologue about Acreville, the house he lived in, the pond in front of +it, Mrs. Simpson's health and various items of news about the children, +varied by reports of his personal misfortunes. He put no questions, and +asked no replies, so this gave the inexperienced soldier a few seconds +to plan a campaign. There were three houses to pass; the Browns' at the +corner, the Millikens', and the Robinsons' on the brow of the hill. If +Mr. Robinson were in the front yard she might tell Mr. Simpson she +wanted to call there and ask Mr. Robinson to hold the horse's head +while she got out of the wagon. Then she might fly to the back before +Mr. Simpson could realize the situation, and dragging out the precious +bundle, sit on it hard, while Mr. Robinson settled the matter of +ownership with Mr. Simpson. +</P> + +<P> +This was feasible, but it meant a quarrel between the two men, who held +an ancient grudge against each other, and Mr. Simpson was a valiant +fighter, as the various sheriffs who had attempted to arrest him could +cordially testify. It also meant that everybody in the village would +hear of the incident and poor Clara Belle be branded again as the child +of a thief. +</P> + +<P> +Another idea danced into her excited brain; such a clever one she could +hardly believe it hers. She might call Mr. Robinson to the wagon, and +when he came close to the wheels she might say, suddenly: "Please take +the flag out of the back of the wagon, Mr. Robinson. We have brought it +here for you to keep overnight." Then Mr. Simpson might be so surprised +that he would give up his prize rather than be suspected of stealing. +</P> + +<P> +But as they neared the Robinsons' house there was not a sign of life to +be seen; so the last plan, ingenious though it was, was perforce +abandoned. +</P> + +<P> +The road now lay between thick pine woods with no dwelling in sight. It +was growing dusk and Rebecca was driving along the lonely way with a +person who was generally called Slippery Simpson. +</P> + +<P> +Not a thought of fear crossed her mind, save the fear of bungling in +her diplomacy, and so losing the flag. She knew Mr. Simpson well, and a +pleasanter man was seldom to be met. She recalled an afternoon when he +came home and surprised the whole school playing the Revolutionary War +in his helter-skelter dooryard, and the way in which he had joined the +British forces and impersonated General Burgoyne had greatly endeared +him to her. The only difficulty was to find proper words for her +delicate mission, for, of course, if Mr. Simpson's anger were aroused, +he would politely push her out of the wagon and drive away with the +flag. Perhaps if she led the conversation in the right direction an +opportunity would present itself. Clearing her throat nervously, she +began:— +</P> + +<P> +"Is it likely to be fair to-morrow?" +</P> + +<P> +"Guess so; clear as a bell. What's on foot; a picnic?" +</P> + +<P> +"No; we're to have a grand flag-raising!" ("That is," she thought, "if +we have any flag to raise!") +</P> + +<P> +"That so? Where?" +</P> + +<P> +"The three villages are to club together and have a rally, and raise +the flag at the Centre. There'll be a brass band, and speakers, and the +Mayor of Portland, and the man that will be governor if he's elected, +and a dinner in the Grange Hall, and we girls are chosen to raise the +flag." +</P> + +<P> +"I want to know! That'll be grand, won't it?" (Still not a sign of +consciousness on the part of Abner.) +</P> + +<P> +"I hope Mrs. Fogg will take Clara Belle, for it will be splendid to +look at! Mr. Cobb is going to be Uncle Sam and drive us on the stage. +Miss Dearborn—Clara Belle's old teacher, you know is going to be +Columbia; the girls will be the States of the Union, and oh, Mr. +Simpson, I am the one to be the State of Maine!" Mr. Simpson flourished +the whipstock and gave a loud, hearty laugh. Then he turned in his seat +and regarded Rebecca curiously. +</P> + +<P> +"You're kind o' small, ain't ye, for so big a state as this one?" he +asked. +</P> + +<P> +"Any of us would be too small," replied Rebecca with dignity, "but the +committee asked me, and I am going to try hard to do well." +</P> + +<P> +The tragic thought that there might be no occasion for anybody to do +anything, well or ill, suddenly overcame her here, and putting her hand +on Mr. Simpson's sleeve, she attacked the subject practically and +courageously. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Mr. Simpson, dear Mr. Simpson, it's such a mortifying subject I +can't bear to say anything about it, but please give us back our flag! +Don't, don't take it over to Acreville, Mr. Simpson! We've worked so +long to make it, and it was so hard getting the money for the bunting! +Wait a minute, please; don't be angry, and don't say no just yet, till +I explain more. It'll be so dreadful for everybody to get there +to-morrow morning and find no flag to raise, and the band and the mayor +all disappointed, and the children crying, with their muslin dresses +all bought for nothing! Oh, dear Mr. Simpson, please don't take our +flag away from us!" +</P> + +<P> +The apparently astonished Abner pulled his mustaches and exclaimed: +"But I don't know what you're drivin' at! Who's got yer flag? I hain't!" +</P> + +<P> +Could duplicity, deceit, and infamy go any further, Rebecca wondered, +and her soul filling with righteous wrath, she cast discretion to the +winds and spoke a little more plainly, bending her great swimming eyes +on the now embarrassed Abner, who looked like an angle-worm wriggling +on a pin. +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. Simpson, how can you say that, when I saw the flag in the back of +your wagon myself, when you stopped to water the horse? It's wicked of +you to take it, and I cannot bear it!" Her voice broke now, for a doubt +of Mr. Simpson's yielding suddenly darkened her mind. "If you keep it, +you'll have to keep me, for I won't be parted from it! I can't fight +like the boys, but I can pinch and scratch, and I will scratch, just +like a panther—I'll lie right down on my star and not move, if I +starve to death!" "Look here, hold your hosses 'n' don't cry till you +git something to cry for!" grumbled the outraged Abner, to whom a clue +had just come; and leaning over the wagon-back he caught hold of a +corner of white sheet and dragged up the bundle, scooping off Rebecca's +hat in the process, and almost burying her in bunting. +</P> + +<P> +She caught the treasure passionately to her heart and stifled her sobs +in it, while Abner exclaimed "I declare to man, if that hain't a flag! +Well, in that case you're good 'n' welcome to it! Land! I seen that +bundle lyin' in the middle o' the road and I says to myself, that's +somebody's washin' and I'd better pick it up and leave it at the +post-office to be claimed; 'n' all the time it was a flag!" +</P> + +<P> +This was a Simpsonian version of the matter, the fact being that a +white-covered bundle lying on the Meserves' front steps had attracted +his practiced eye, and slipping in at the open gate he had swiftly and +deftly removed it to his wagon on general principles; thinking if it +were clean clothes it would be extremely useful, and in any event there +was no good in passing by something flung into one's very arms, so to +speak. He had had no leisure to examine the bundle, and indeed took +little interest in it. Probably he stole it simply from force of habit, +and because there was nothing else in sight to steal, everybody's +premises being preternaturally tidy and empty, almost as if his visit +had been expected! Rebecca was a practical child, and it seemed to her +almost impossible that so heavy a bundle should fall out of Mrs. +Meserve's buggy and not be noticed; but she hoped that Mr. Simpson was +telling the truth, and she was too glad and grateful to doubt any one +at the moment. +</P> + +<P> +"Thank you, thank you ever so much, Mr. Simpson. You're the nicest, +kindest, politest man I ever knew, and the girls will be so pleased you +gave us back the flag, and so will the Dorcas Society; they'll be sure +to write you a letter of thanks; they always do." +</P> + +<P> +"Tell 'em not to bother 'bout any thanks," said Simpson, beaming +virtuously. "But land! I'm glad 't was me that happened to see that +bundle in the road and take the trouble to pick it up." +</P> + +<P> +("Jest to think of it's bein' a flag!" he thought; "if ever there was a +pesky, wuthless thing to trade off, 't would be a great, gormin' flag +like that!") +</P> + +<P> +"Can I get out now, please?" asked Rebecca. "I want to go back, for +Mrs. Meserve will be dreadfully nervous when she finds out she dropped +the flag, and it hurts her health to be nervous." +</P> + +<P> +"No, you don't," objected Mr. Simpson gallantly, turning the horse. "Do +you think I'd let a little creeter like you lug that great heavy +bundle? I hain't got time to go back to Meserve's, but I'll take you to +the corner and dump you there, flag'n' all, and you can get some o' the +men-folks to carry it the rest o' the way. You'll wear it out, huggin' +it so!" +</P> + +<P> +"I helped make it and I adore it!" said Rebecca, who was in a +grandiloquent mood. "Why don't you like it? It's your country's flag." +</P> + +<P> +Simpson smiled an indulgent smile and looked a trifle bored at these +appeals to his extremely rusty better feelings. "I don' know's I've got +any particular int'rest in the country," he remarked languidly. "I know +I don't owe nothin' to it, nor own nothin' in it!" +</P> + +<P> +"You own a star on the flag, same as everybody," argued Rebecca, who +had been feeding on patriotism for a month; "and you own a state, too, +like all the rest of us!" +</P> + +<P> +"Land! I wish't I did! or even a quarter section of one!" sighed Mr. +Simpson, feeling somehow a little more poverty-stricken and discouraged +than usual. +</P> + +<P> +As they approached the corner and the watering-trough where four +cross-roads met, the whole neighborhood seemed to be in evidence, and +Mr. Simpson suddenly regretted his chivalrous escort of Rebecca; +especially when, as he neared the group, an excited lady, wringing her +hands, turned out to be Mrs. Peter Meserve, accompanied by Huldah, the +Browns, Mrs. Milliken, Abijah Flagg, and Miss Dearborn. "Do you know +anything about the new flag, Rebecca?" shrieked Mrs. Meserve, too +agitated, for a moment, to notice the child's companion. +</P> + +<P> +"It's right here in my lap, all safe," responded Rebecca joyously. +</P> + +<P> +"You careless, meddlesome young one, to take it off my steps where I +left it just long enough to go round to the back and hunt up my +door-key! You've given me a fit of sickness with my weak heart, and +what business was it of yours? I believe you think you own the flag! +Hand it over to me this minute!" +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca was climbing down during this torrent of language, but as she +turned she flashed one look of knowledge at the false Simpson, a look +that went through him from head to foot, as if it were carried by +electricity. +</P> + +<P> +He saw that he had not deceived her after all, owing to the angry +chatter of Mrs. Meserve. He had been handcuffed twice in his life, but +no sheriff had ever discomfited him so thoroughly as this child. Fury +mounted to his brain, and as soon as she was safely out from between +the wheels he stood up in the wagon and flung the flag out in the road +in the midst of the excited group. +</P> + +<P> +"Take it, you pious, stingy, scandal-talkin', flag-raisin' crew!" he +roared. "Rebecca never took the flag; I found it in the road, I say!" +</P> + +<P> +"You never, no such a thing!" exclaimed Mrs. Meserve. "You found it on +the doorsteps in my garden!" +</P> + +<P> +"Mebbe 't was your garden, but it was so chock full o' weeds I thought +'t was the road," retorted Abner. "I vow I wouldn't 'a' given the old +rag back to one o' you, not if you begged me on your knees! But +Rebecca's a friend o' my folks and can do with her flag's she's a mind +to, and the rest o' ye can do what ye like an' go where ye like, for +all I care!" +</P> + +<P> +So saying, he made a sharp turn, gave the gaunt white horse a lash and +disappeared in a cloud of dust, before the astonished Mr. Brown, the +only man in the party, had a thought of detaining him. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm sorry I spoke so quick, Rebecca," said Mrs. Meserve, greatly +mortified at the situation. "But don't you believe a word that lyin' +critter said! He did steal it off my doorstep, and how did you come to +be ridin' and consortin' with him? I believe it would kill your Aunt +Miranda if she should hear about it!" +</P> + +<P> +The little school-teacher put a sheltering arm round Rebecca as Mr. +Brown picked up the flag and dusted and folded it. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm willing she should hear about it," Rebecca answered. "I didn't do +anything to be ashamed of! I saw the flag in the back of Mr. Simpson's +wagon and I just followed it. There weren't any men or any Dorcas +ladies to take care of it so it fell to me! You would n't have had me +let it out of my sight, would you, and we going to raise it to-morrow +morning?" +</P> + +<P> +"Rebecca's perfectly right, Mrs. Meserve!" said Miss Dearborn proudly. +"And it's lucky there was somebody quick-witted enough to 'ride and +consort' with Mr. Simpson! I don't know what the village will think, +but seems to me the town clerk might write down in his book, 'This day +the State of Maine saved the flag!'" +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap05"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +V. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE STATE O' MAINE GIRL +</H3> + +<P> +THE foregoing episode, if narrated in a romance, would undoubtedly have +been called "The Saving of the Colors," but at the nightly chats in +Watson's store it was alluded to as the way little Becky Randall got +the flag away from Slippery Simpson. Dramatic as it was, it passed into +the crowd of half-forgotten things in Rebecca's mind, its brief +importance submerged in the glories of the next day. +</P> + +<P> +There was a painful prelude to these glories. Alice Robinson came to +spend the night with Rebecca, and when the bedroom door closed upon the +two girls, Alice announced her intention of "doing up" Rebecca's front +hair in leads and rags, and braiding the back in six tight, wetted +braids. +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca demurred. Alice persisted. +</P> + +<P> +"Your hair is so long and thick and dark and straight," she said, "that +you'll look like an Injun!" +</P> + +<P> +"I am the State of Maine; it all belonged to the Indians once," Rebecca +remarked gloomily, for she was curiously shy about discussing her +personal appearance. +</P> + +<P> +"And your wreath of little pine-cones won't set decent without crimps," +continued Alice. +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca glanced in the cracked looking-glass and met what she +considered an accusing lack of beauty, a sight that always either +saddened or enraged her according to circumstances; then she sat down +resignedly and began to help Alice in the philanthropic work of making +the State of Maine fit to be seen at the raising. +</P> + +<P> +Neither of the girls was an expert hairdresser, and at the end of an +hour, when the sixth braid was tied, and Rebecca had given one last +shuddering look in the mirror, both were ready to weep with fatigue. +</P> + +<P> +The candle was blown out and Alice soon went to sleep, but Rebecca +tossed on her pillow, its goose-feathered softness all dented by the +cruel lead knobs and the knots of twisted rags. She slipped out of bed +and walked to and fro, holding her aching head with both hands. Finally +she leaned on the window-sill, watching the still weather-vane on +Alice's barn and breathing in the fragrance of the ripening apples, +until her restlessness subsided under the clear starry beauty of the +night. +</P> + +<P> +At six in the morning the girls were out of bed, for Alice could hardly +wait until Rebecca's hair was taken down, she was so eager to see the +result of her labors. +</P> + +<P> +The leads and rags were painfully removed, together with much hair, the +operation being punctuated by a series of squeaks, squeals, and shrieks +on the part of Rebecca and a series of warnings from Alice, who wished +the preliminaries to be kept secret from the aunts, that they might the +more fully appreciate the radiant result. +</P> + +<P> +Then came the unbraiding, and then—dramatic moment—the "combing out;" +a difficult, not to say impossible process, in which the hairs that had +resisted the earlier stages almost gave up the ghost. +</P> + +<P> +The long front strands had been wound up from various angles and by +various methods, so that, when released, they assumed the strangest, +most obstinate, most unexpected attitudes. When the comb was dragged +through the last braid, the wild, tortured, electric hairs following, +and then rebounding from it in a bristling, snarling tangle, +Massachusetts gave one encompassing glance at the State o' Maine's +head, and announced her intention of going home to breakfast! Alice was +deeply grieved at the result of her attempted beautifying, but she felt +that meeting Miss Miranda Sawyer at the morning meal would not mend +matters in the least, so slipping out of the side door, she ran up +Guide-Board hill as fast as her feet could carry her. +</P> + +<P> +The State o' Maine, deserted and somewhat unnerved, sat down before the +glass and attacked her hair doggedly and with set lips, working over it +until Miss Jane called her to breakfast; then, with a boldness born of +despair, she entered the dining-room, where her aunts were already +seated at table. There was a moment of silence after the grotesque +figure was fully taken in; then came a moan from Jane and a groan from +Miranda. +</P> + +<P> +"What have you done to yourself?" asked Miranda sternly. +</P> + +<P> +"Made an effort to be beautiful and failed!" jauntily replied Rebecca, +but she was too miserable to keep up the fiction. "Oh, Aunt Miranda, +don't scold, I'm so unhappy! Alice and I rolled up my hair to curl it +for the raising. She said it was so straight I looked like an Indian!" +</P> + +<P> +"Mebbe you did," vigorously agreed Miranda, "but 't any rate you looked +like a Christian Injun, 'n' now you look like a heathen Injun; that's +all the difference I can see. What can we do with her, Jane, between +this and nine o'clock?" +</P> + +<P> +"We'll all go out to the pump just as soon as we're through breakfast," +answered Jane soothingly. "We can accomplish considerable with water +and force." +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca nibbled her corn-cake, her tearful eyes cast on her plate and +her chin quivering. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't you cry and red your eyes up," chided Miranda quite kindly; "the +minute you've eaten enough run up and get your brush and meet us at the +back door." +</P> + +<P> +"I would n't care myself how bad I looked," said Rebecca, "but I can't +bear to be so homely that I shame the State of Maine!" +</P> + +<P> +Oh, what an hour followed this plaint! Did any aspirant for literary or +dramatic honors ever pass to fame through such an antechamber of +horrors? Did poet of the day ever have his head so maltreated? To be +dipped in the rain-water tub, soused again and again; to be held under +the spout and pumped on; to be rubbed furiously with rough roller +towels; to be dried with hot flannels! And is it not well-nigh +incredible that at the close of such an hour the ends of the long hair +should still stand out straight, the braids having been turned up two +inches by Alice, and tied hard in that position with linen thread? +</P> + +<P> +"Get out the skirt-board, Jane," cried Miranda, to whom opposition +served as a tonic, "and move that flat-iron on to the front o' the +stove. Rebecca, set down in that low chair beside the board, and, Jane, +you spread out her hair on it and cover it up with brown paper. Don't +cringe, Rebecca; the worst's over, and you've borne up real good! I'll +be careful not to pull your hair nor scorch you, and oh, how I'd like +to have Alice Robinson acrost my knee and a good slipper in my right +hand! There, you're all ironed out and your Aunt Jane can put on your +white dress and braid your hair up again good and tight. Perhaps you +won't be the homeliest of the States, after all; but when I see you +comin' in to breakfast I said to myself: 'I guess if Maine looked like +that, it would n't never 'a' been admitted into the Union!'" +</P> + +<P> +When Uncle Sam and the stagecoach drew up to the brick house with a +grand swing and a flourish, the Goddess of Liberty and most of the +States were already in their places on the "harricane deck." Words fail +to describe the gallant bearing of the horses, their headstalls gayly +trimmed and their harnesses dotted with little flags. The stage windows +were hung in bunting, and from within beamed Columbia, looking out from +the bright frame as if proud of her freight of loyal children. +Patriotic streamers floated from whip, from dash-board and from rumble, +and the effect of the whole was something to stimulate the most +phlegmatic voter. Rebecca came out on the steps and Aunt Jane brought a +chair to assist in the ascent. Miss Dearborn peeped from the window, +and gave a despairing look at her favorite. +</P> + +<P> +What had happened to her? Who had dressed her? Had her head been put +through a wringing-machine? Why were her eyes red and swollen? Miss +Dearborn determined to take her behind the trees in the pine grove and +give her some finishing touches; touches that her skillful fingers +fairly itched to bestow. +</P> + +<P> +The stage started, and as the roadside pageant grew gayer and gayer, +Rebecca began to brighten and look prettier, for most of her +beautifying came from within. The people, walking, driving, or standing +on their doorsteps, cheered Uncle Sam's coach with its freight of +gossamer-muslined, fluttering-ribboned girls, and just behind, the +gorgeously decorated haycart, driven by Abijah Flagg, bearing the jolly +but inharmonious fife and drum corps. Was ever such a golden day; such +crystal air; such mellow sunshine; such a merry Uncle Sam! +</P> + +<P> +The stage drew up at an appointed spot near a pine grove, and while the +crowd was gathering, the children waited for the hour to arrive when +they should march to the platform; the hour toward which they seemed to +have been moving since the dawn of creation. As soon as possible Miss +Dearborn whispered to Rebecca: "Come behind the trees with me; I want +to make you prettier!" +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca thought she had suffered enough from that process already +during the last twelve hours, but she put out an obedient hand and the +two withdrew. +</P> + +<P> +Now Miss Dearborn was, I fear, a very indifferent teacher. Her stock in +trade was small, her principal virtues being devotion to children and +ability to gain their love, and a power of evolving a schoolroom order +so natural, cheery, serene, and peaceful that it gave the beholder a +certain sense of being in a district heaven. She was poor in +arithmetic and weak in geometry, but if you gave her a rose, a bit of +ribbon, and a seven-by-nine looking-glass she could make herself as +pretty as a pink in two minutes. +</P> + +<P> +Safely sheltered behind the pines, Miss Dearborn began to practice +mysterious feminine arts. She flew at Rebecca's tight braids, opened +the strands and rebraided them loosely; bit and tore the red, white, +and blue ribbon in two and tied the braids separately. Then with +nimble fingers she pulled out little tendrils of hair behind the ears +and around the nape of the neck. After a glance of acute disapproval +directed at the stiff balloon skirt she knelt on the ground and gave a +strenuous embrace to Rebecca's knees, murmuring, between her hugs, +"Starch must be cheap at the brick house!" +</P> + +<P> +This particular line of beauty attained, there ensued great pinchings +of ruffles; the fingers that could never hold a ferule nor snap +children's ears being incomparable fluting-irons. Next the sash was +scornfully untied, and tightened to suggest something resembling a +waist. The chastened bows that had been squat, dowdy, spiritless, were +given tweaks, flirts, bracing little pokes and dabs, till, +acknowledging a master hand, they stood up, piquant, pert, smart, alert! +</P> + +<P> +Pride of bearing was now infused into the flattened lace at the neck, +and a pin (removed at some sacrifice from her own toilette) was darned +in at the back to prevent any cowardly lapsing. The short white cotton +gloves that called attention to the tanned wrists and arms were +stripped off and put in her own pocket. Then the wreath of pine-cones +was adjusted at a heretofore unimagined angle, the hair was pulled +softly into a fluffy frame, and finally, as she met Rebecca's grateful +eyes, she gave her two approving, triumphant kisses. In a second the +sensitive face lighted into happiness; pleased dimples appeared in the +cheeks, the kissed mouth was as red as a rose, and the little fright +that had walked behind the pine-tree stepped out on the other side +Rebecca, the lovely. +</P> + +<P> +As to the relative value of Miss Dearborn's accomplishments, the +decision must be left to the gentle reader; but though it is certain +that children should be properly grounded in mathematics, no heart of +flesh could bear to hear Miss Dearborn's methods vilified who had seen +her patting, pulling, squeezing Rebecca from ugliness into beauty. +</P> + +<P> +Now all was ready; the moment of fate was absolutely at hand; the fife +and drum corps led the way and the States followed; but what actually +happened Rebecca never knew; she lived through the hours in a waking +dream. Every little detail was a facet of light that reflected +sparkles, and among them all she was fairly dazzled. The brass band +played inspiring strains; the mayor spoke eloquently on great themes; +the people cheered; then the rope on which so much depended was put +into the children's hands, they applied superhuman strength to their +task, and the flag mounted, mounted, smoothly and slowly, and slowly +unwound and stretched itself until its splendid size and beauty were +revealed against the maples and pines and blue New England sky. +</P> + +<P> +Then after cheers upon cheers and after a patriotic chorus by the +church choirs, the State of Maine mounted the platform, vaguely +conscious that she was to recite a poem, though for the life of her she +could not remember a single word. +</P> + +<P> +"Speak up loud and clear, Rebecky," whispered Uncle Sam in the front +row, but she could scarcely hear her own voice when, tremblingly, she +began her first line. After that she gathered strength, and the poem +"said itself," while the dream went on. She saw her friend Adam Ladd +leaning against a tree; Aunt Jane and Aunt Miranda palpitating with +nervousness; Clara Belle Simpson gazing cross-eyed but adoring from a +seat on the side; and in the far, far distance, on the very outskirts +of the crowd, a tall man standing in a wagon—a tall, loose-jointed man +with red upturned mustaches, and a gaunt white horse whose head was +turned toward the Acreville road. +</P> + +<P> +Loud applause greeted the State of Maine, the slender little white-clad +figure standing on the mossy boulder that had been used as the centre +of the platform. The sun came up from behind a great maple and shone +full on the star-spangled banner, making it more dazzling than ever, so +that its beauty drew all eyes upward. +</P> + +<P> +Abner Simpson lifted his vagrant shifting gaze to its softly fluttering +folds and its splendid massing of colors, thinking:— +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know's anybody'd ought to steal a flag, the thunderin' idjuts +seem to set such store by it, and what is it, anyway? Nothin' but a +sheet o' buntin'!'" +</P> + +<P> +Nothing but a sheet of bunting? He looked curiously at the rapt faces +of the mothers, their babies asleep in their arms; the parted lips and +shining eyes of the white-clad girls; at Cap'n Lord, who had been in +Libby Prison, and Nat Strout, who had left an arm at Bull Run; at the +friendly, jostling crowd of farmers, happy, eager, absorbed, their +throats ready to burst with cheers. Then the breeze served, and he +heard Rebecca's clear voice saying:— +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + "For it's your star, my star, all the stars together,<BR> + That make our country's flag so proud<BR> + To float in the bright fall weather!"<BR> +</P> + +<P> +"Talk about stars! She's got a couple of 'em right in her head," +thought Simpson. "If I ever seen a young one like that layin' on +anybody's doorstep I'd hook her quicker'n a wink, though I've got +plenty to home, the Lord knows! And I wouldn't swap her off +neither.—Spunky little creeter, too; settin' up in the wagon lookin' +'bout's big as a pint o' cider, but keepin' right after the flag!—I +vow I'm 'bout sick o' my job! Never with the crowd, allers jest on the +outside, 's if I wa'n't as good's they be! If it paid well, mebbe would +n't mind, but they're so thunderin' stingy round here, they don't leave +out anything decent for you to take from 'em, yet you're reskin' your +liberty 'n' reputation jest the same!—Countin' the poor pickin's 'n' +the time I lose in jail I might most's well be done with it 'n' work +out by the day, as the folks want me to; I'd make 'bout's much, n' I +don' know's it would be any harder!" +</P> + +<P> +He could see Rebecca stepping down from the platform, while his own +red-headed little girl stood up on her bench, waving her hat with one +hand, her handkerchief with the other, and stamping with both feet. +</P> + +<P> +Now a man sitting beside the mayor rose from his chair and Abner heard +him call:— +</P> + +<P> +"Three cheers for the women who made the flag!" +</P> + +<P> +"Hip, hip, hurrah!" +</P> + +<P> +"Three cheers for the State of Maine!" +</P> + +<P> +"Hip, hip, hurrah!" +</P> + +<P> +"Three cheers for the girl who saved the flag from the hands of the +enemy!" +</P> + +<P> +"Hip, hip, hurrah!" +</P> + +<P> +It was the Edgewood minister, whose full, vibrant voice was of the sort +to move a crowd. His words rang out into the clear air and were carried +from lip to lip. Hands clapped, feet stamped, hats swung, while the +loud huzzahs might almost have wakened the echoes on old Mount Ossipee. +</P> + +<P> +The tall, loose-jointed man sat down in the wagon suddenly and took up +the reins. +</P> + +<P> +"They're gettin' a little mite personal, and I guess it's 'bout time +for you to be goin', Simpson!" +</P> + +<P> +The tone was jocular, but the red mustaches drooped, and the +half-hearted cut he gave to start the white mare on her homeward +journey showed that he was not in his usual reckless mood. +</P> + +<P> +"It's a lie!" he burst out in a vindictive undertone, as the mare swung +into her long gait. "It's a lie! I thought 't was somebody's wash! I +ain't an enemy!" +</P> + +<P> +While the crowd at the raising dispersed in happy family groups to +their picnics in the woods; while the Goddess of Liberty, Uncle Sam, +Columbia, and the proud States lunched grandly in the Grange Hall with +distinguished guests and scarred veterans of two wars, the lonely man +drove, and drove, and drove through silent woods and dull, sleepy +villages, never alighting to replenish his wardrobe or his stock of +swapping material. +</P> + +<P> +At dusk he reached a miserable tumble-down house on the edge of a pond. +</P> + +<P> +The faithful wife with the sad mouth and the habitual look of anxiety +in her faded eyes came to the door at the sound of wheels and went +doggedly to the horse-shed to help him unharness. "You did n't expect +to see me back to-night, did you?" he asked satirically; "leastwise not +with this same horse? Well, I'm here! You need n't be scairt to look +under the wagon-seat, there ain't nothin' there, not even my supper, so +I hope you're suited for once! No, I guess I ain't goin' to be an angel +right away, neither. There wa'n't nothin' but flags layin' roun' loose +down Riverboro way, 'n' whatever they say, I ain't sech a hound as to +steal a flag!" +</P> + +<P> +It was natural that young Riverboro should have red, white, and blue +dreams on the night after the new flag was raised. A stranger thing, +perhaps, is the fact that Abner Simpson should lie down on his hard bed +with the flutter of bunting before his eyes, and a whirl of +unaccustomed words in his mind. +</P> + +<P> +"For it is your star, my star, all our stars together." +</P> + +<P> +"I'm sick of goin' it alone," he thought; "I guess I'll try the other +road for a spell;" and with that he fell asleep. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR><BR> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Flag-raising, by Kate Douglas Wiggin + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FLAG-RAISING *** + +***** This file should be named 2315-h.htm or 2315-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/3/1/2315/ + +Produced by Susan L. Farley. 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