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diff --git a/24826.txt b/24826.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..35294c6 --- /dev/null +++ b/24826.txt @@ -0,0 +1,6721 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Hildegarde's Holiday, by Laura E. Richards + +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: Hildegarde's Holiday + a story for girls + +Author: Laura E. Richards + +Illustrator: Josephine Bruce + +Release Date: March 13, 2008 [EBook #24826] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HILDEGARDE'S HOLIDAY *** + + + + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, Emmy and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + + +HILDEGARDE'S HOLIDAY + + + + +THE + +HILDEGARDE-MARGARET SERIES + +By Laura E. Richards + +Each large 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated, per volume, $1.75 + + Queen Hildegarde + Hildegarde's Holiday + Hildegarde's Home + Hildegarde's Neighbors + Hildegarde's Harvest + Three Margarets + Margaret Montfort + Peggy + Rita + Fernley House + The Merryweathers + + _The above eleven volumes boxed as a set, $19.25_ + + L. C. PAGE & COMPANY + 53 Beacon Street, Boston, Mass. + + + + +[Illustration: "'DO TELL US ABOUT HER, PLEASE!'"] + + + + +THE HILDEGARDE SERIES + +Hildegarde's Holiday + +A STORY FOR GIRLS + +BY + +LAURA E. RICHARDS + +Author of + + "The Margaret Series," "The Hildegarde Series," + "Captain January," "Melody," "Five + Minute Stories," etc. + +ILLUSTRATED + +[Illustration] + +THE PAGE COMPANY + + BOSTON PUBLISHERS + + + + + _Copyright, 1891_ + BY ESTES AND LAURIAT + + Made in U. S. A. + + Twenty-fourth Impression, May, 1927 + Twenty-fifth Impression, January, 1930 + + THE COLONIAL PRESS + C. H. SIMONDS CO., BOSTON, U. S. A. + + + + +_To H. R._ + + + + +CONTENTS. + + + CHAPTER PAGE + + I. INTRODUCTORY 11 + + II. MISS WEALTHY 20 + + III. THE ORCHARD 34 + + IV. THE DOCTORS 53 + + V. ON THE RIVER 74 + + VI. A MORNING DRIVE 94 + + VII. A "STORY EVENING" 126 + + VIII. FLOWER-DAY 151 + + IX. BROKEN FLOWERS 178 + + X. THE HOUSE IN THE WOOD 201 + + XI. "UP IN THE MORNING EARLY" 222 + + XII. BENNY 241 + + XIII. A SURPRISE 254 + + XIV. TELEMACHUS GOES A-FISHING 278 + + XV. THE GREAT SCHEME 300 + + XVI. THE WIDOW BRETT 314 + + XVII. OLD MR. COLT 337 + + XVIII. JOYOUS GARD 354 + + + + +LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS + + PAGE +"'DO TELL US ABOUT HER, PLEASE!'" (p. 128) _Frontispiece_ +"'AND EVERYTHING IS RIGHT FOR SUPPER, MARTHA?'" 23 +"'DO SAY IT'S ALL RIGHT, JEREMIAH!'" 77 +"THEN THEY HUGGED EACH OTHER A LITTLE" 111 +"'DON'T YOU THINK WE HAVE ENOUGH FLOWERS, ROSY?'" 174 +"SO DOWN PLUMPED HILDEGARDE" 194 +"'OH, SUCH A DEE OLE KITTY!'" 247 +"'NOT A THING IN THE HOUSE!'" 333 + + + + +HILDEGARDE'S HOLIDAY. + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +INTRODUCTORY. + + +In a small waiting-room at Blank Hospital a girl was walking up and +down, with quick, impatient steps. Every few minutes she stopped to +listen; then, hearing no sound, she resumed her walk, with hands clasped +and lips set firmly together. She was evidently in a state of high +nervous excitement, for the pupils of her eyes were so dilated that they +flashed black as night instead of gray; and a bright red spot burned in +either cheek. In the corner, in an attitude of anxious dejection, sat a +small dog. He had tried following his mistress at first, when she began +her walk, and finding that the promenade took them nowhere and was very +monotonous, had tried to vary the monotony by worrying her heels in a +playful manner; whereupon he had been severely reprimanded, and sent +into the corner, from which he dared not emerge. He was trying, with his +usual lack of success, to fathom the motives which prompted human beings +to such strange and undoglike actions, when suddenly a door opened, and +a lady and gentleman came in. The girl sprang forward. "Mamma!" she +cried. "Doctor!" + +"It is all right, my dear," said the doctor, quickly; while the lady, +whose name was Mrs. Grahame, took the girl in her arms quietly, and +kissed her. "It is all right; everything has gone perfectly, and in a +few days your lovely friend will be better than she has ever been since +she was a baby." + +Hildegarde Grahame sat down, and leaning her head on her mother's +shoulder, burst into tears. + +"Exactly!" said the good doctor. "The best thing you could do, my child! +Do you want to hear the rest now, or shall I leave it for your mother to +tell?" + +"Let her hear it all from you, Doctor," said Mrs. Grahame. "It will do +her more good than anything else." + +Hildegarde looked up and nodded, and smiled through her tears. + +"Well," said the cheerful physician, "Miss Angel (her own name is an +impossibility, and does not belong to her) has really borne the +operation wonderfully. Marvellously!" he repeated. "The constitution, +you see, was originally good. There was a foundation to work upon; that +means everything, in a case like this. Now all that she requires is to +be built up,--built up! Beef tea, chicken broth, wine jelly, and as +soon as practicable, fresh air and exercise,--there is your programme, +Miss Hildegarde; I think I can depend upon you to carry it out." + +The girl stretched out her hand, which he grasped warmly. "Dear, good +doctor!" she said; whereupon the physician growled, and went and looked +out of the window. + +"And how soon will she be able to walk?" asked the happy Hildegarde, +drying her eyes and smiling through the joyful tears. "And when may I +see her, Doctor? and how does she look, Mamma darling?" + +"_Place aux dames!_" said the Doctor. "You may answer first, Mrs. +Grahame, though your question came last." + +"Dear, she looks like a white rose!" replied Mrs. Grahame. "She is +sleeping quietly, with no trace of pain on her sweet face. Her breathing +is as regular as a baby's; all the nurses are coming on tiptoe to look +at her, and they all say, 'Bless her!' when they move away." + +"My turn now," said Dr. Flower. "You may see her, Miss Hildegarde, the +day after to-morrow, if all goes well, as I am tolerably sure it will; +and she will be able to walk--well, say in a month." + +"Oh! a month!" cried Hildegarde, dolefully. "Do you mean that she cannot +walk at all till then, Doctor?" + +"Why, Hilda!" said Mrs. Grahame, in gentle protest. "Pink has not walked +for fourteen years, remember; surely a month is a very short time for +her to learn in." + +"I suppose so," said the girl, still looking disappointed, however. + +"Oh, she will _begin_ before that!" said Dr. Flower. "She will begin in +ten days, perhaps. Little by little, you know,--a step at a time. In a +fortnight she may go out to drive; in fact, carriage exercise will be a +very good thing for her. An easy carriage, a gentle horse, a careful +driver--" + +"Oh, you best of doctors!" cried Hildegarde, her face glowing again with +delight. "Mamma, is not that exactly what we want? I do believe we can +do it, after all. You see, Doctor--Oh, tell him, Mammy dear! You will +tell him so much better." + +"Hildegarde has had a very delightful plan for this summer, Doctor," +said Mrs. Graham, "ever since you gave us the happy hope that this +operation, after the year of treatment, would restore our dear Rose to +complete health. A kinswoman of mine, a very lovely old lady, who lives +in Maine, spent a part of last winter with us, and became much +interested in Rose,--or Pink, as we used to call her." + +"But we _don't_ call her so now, Mammy!" cried Hildegarde, impetuously. +"Rose is exactly as much her own name, and she likes it much better; +and even Bubble says it is prettier. But I _didn't_ mean to interrupt, +Mammy dear. Go on, please!" + +"So," continued Mrs. Grahame, smiling, "Cousin Wealthy invited the two +girls to make her a long visit this summer, as soon as Rose should be +able to travel. I am sure it would be a good thing for the child, if you +think the journey would not be too much for her; for it is a lovely +place where Cousin Wealthy lives, and she would have the best of care." + +"Capital!" cried Dr. Flower; "the very thing! She _shall_ be able to +travel, my dear madam. We will pack her in cotton wool if necessary; but +it will not be necessary. It is now--let me see--May 10th; yes, quite +so! By the 15th of June you may start on your travels, Miss Hildegarde. +There is a railway near your cousin's home, Mrs Grahame?" + +"Oh, yes!" cried Hilda. "It goes quite near, doesn't it, Mamma?" + +"Within two or three miles," said Mrs. Grahame; "and the carriage road +is very good." + +"That is settled, then!" said Dr. Flower, rising; "and a very good thing +too. And now I must go at once and tell the good news to that bright +lad, Miss Rose's brother. He is at school, I think you said?" + +"Yes," replied Hildegarde. "He said he would rather not know the exact +day, since he could not be allowed to help. Good Bubble! he has been so +patient and brave, though I know he has thought of nothing else day and +night. Thank you, Doctor, for being so kind as to let him know. +Good-by!" + +But when Dr. Flower went out into the hall, he saw standing opposite the +door a boy, neatly dressed and very pale, with burning eyes, which met +his in an agony of inquiry. + +"She is all right," said the physician, quickly. "She is doing extremely +well, and will soon be able to walk like other people. How upon earth +did you know?" he added, in some vexation, seeing that the sudden relief +from terrible anxiety was almost more than the lad could bear. "What +idiot told you?" + +Bubble Chirk gave one great sob; but the next moment he controlled +himself. "Nobody told me," he said; "I knew. I can't tell you how, sir, +but--I knew!" + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +MISS WEALTHY. + + +It was the 17th of June, and Miss Wealthy Bond was expecting her young +visitors. Twice she had gone over the house, with Martha trotting at her +heels, to see that everything was in order, and now she was making a +third tour of inspection; not because she expected to find anything +wrong, but because it was a pleasure to see that everything was right. + +Miss Wealthy Bond was a very pretty old lady, and was very well aware of +the fact, having been told so during seventy years. "The Lord made me +pleasant to look at," she was wont to say, "and it is a great +privilege, my dear; but it is also a responsibility." She had lovely, +rippling silver hair, and soft blue eyes, and a complexion like a +girl's. She had put on to-day, for the first time, her summer +costume,--a skirt and jacket of striped white dimity, open a little at +the neck, with a kerchief of soft white net inside. This kerchief was +fastened with quite the prettiest brooch that ever was,--a pansy, made +of five deep, clear amethysts, set in a narrow rim of chased gold. Miss +Wealthy always wore this brooch; for in winter it harmonized as well +with her gown of lilac cashmere as it did in summer with the white +dimity. At her elbow stood Martha; it was her place in life. She seldom +had to be called; but was always there when Miss Wealthy wanted +anything, standing a step back, but close beside her beloved mistress. +Martha carried her aureole in her pocket, or somewhere else out of +sight; but she was a saint all the same. Her gray hair was smooth, and +she wore spectacles with silver rims, and a gray print gown, with the +sleeves invariably rolled up to the elbows, except on Sundays, when she +put on her black cashmere, and spent the afternoon in uneasy state. + +"I think the room looks very pretty, Martha," said Miss Wealthy, for the +tenth time. + +"It does, Mam," replied Martha, as heartily as if she had not heard the +remark before. "Proper nice it looks, I'm sure." + +"You mended that little place in the curtain, did you, Martha?" + +"I did, Mam. I don't think as you could find it now, unless you looked +very close." + +"And you put lavender and orange-flower water in the bottles? Very well; +then that's all, I think." + +[Illustration: "'AND EVERYTHING IS RIGHT FOR SUPPER, MARTHA?'"] + +Miss Wealthy gave one more contented look round the pretty room, with +its gay rose-flowering chintz, its cool straw matting, and +comfortable cushioned window-seats, and then drew the blinds exactly +half-way down, and left the room, Martha carefully closing the door. + +In the cool, shady drawing-room all was in perfect order too. There were +flowers in the tall Indian vases on the mantelpiece, a great bowl of +roses on the mosaic centre-table, and, as usual, a bunch of pansies on +the little round table by the armchair in which Miss Wealthy always sat. +She established herself there now, and took up her knitting with a +little sigh of contentment. + +"And everything is right for supper, Martha?" she asked. + +"Yes, Mam," said Martha. "A little chicken-pie, Mam, and French +potatoes, and honey. I should be making the biscuit now, Mam, if you +didn't need me." + +"Oh no, Martha," said the old lady, "I don't need anything. We shall +hear the wheels when they come." + +She looked out of the window, across the pleasant lawn, at the blue +river, and seemed for a moment as if she were going to ask Martha +whether that were all right. But she said nothing, and the saint in gray +print trotted away to her kitchen. + +"Dear Martha!" said Miss Wealthy, settling herself comfortably among her +cushions. "It is a great privilege to have Martha. I do hope these dear +girls will not put her out. She grows a little set in her ways as she +grows older, my good Martha. I don't think that blind is _quite_ +half-way down. It makes the whole room look askew, doesn't it?" + +She rose, and pulled the blind straight, patted a tidy on the back of a +chair, and settled herself among her cushions again, with another +critical glance at the river. A pause ensued, during which the old +lady's needles clicked steadily; then, at last, the sound of wheels was +heard, and putting her work down in exactly the same spot from which she +had taken it up, Miss Wealthy went out on the piazza to welcome her +young guests. + +Hildegarde sprang lightly from the carriage, and gave her hand to her +companion to help her out. + +"Dear Cousin Wealthy," she cried, "here we are, safe and sound. I am +coming to kiss you in one moment. Carefully, Rose dear! Lean on me, so! +_there_ you are! now take my arm. Slowly, slowly! See, Cousin Wealthy! +see how well she walks! Isn't it delightful?" + +"It is, indeed!" said the old lady, heartily, kissing first the glowing +cheek and then the pale one, as the girls came up to her. "And how do +you do, my dears? I am very glad indeed to see you. Rose, you look so +much better, I should hardly have known you; and you, Hilda, look like +June itself. I must call Martha--" But Martha was there, at her elbow. +"Oh, Martha! here are the young ladies." + +Hildegarde shook hands warmly with Martha, and Rose gave one of her shy, +sweet smiles. + +"This is Miss Hildegarde," said the old lady; "and this is Miss Rose. +Perhaps you will take them up to their rooms now, Martha, and Jeremiah +can take the trunks up. We will have supper, my dears, as soon as you +are ready; for I am sure you must be hungry." + +"Yes, we are as hungry as hunters, Cousin Wealthy!" cried Hildegarde. +"We shall frighten you with our appetites, I fear. This way, Martha? +Yes, in one minute. Rose dear, I will put my arm round you, and you can +take hold of the stair-rail. Slowly now!" + +They ascended the stairs slowly, and Hildegarde did not loose her hold +of her friend until she had seated her in a comfortable easy-chair in +the pretty chintz bedroom. + +"There, dear!" she said anxiously, stooping to unfasten her cloak. "Are +you very dreadfully tired?" + +"Oh no!" replied Rose, cheerfully; "not at all _dreadfully_ tired, only +comfortably. I ache a little, of course, but--Oh, what a pleasant room! +And this chair is comfort itself." + +"The window-seat for me!" cried Hildegarde, tossing her hat on the bed, +and then leaning out of the window with both arms on the sill. "Rose, +don't move! I forbid you to stir hand or foot. I will tell you while you +are resting. There is a river,--a great, wide, beautiful river, just +across the lawn." + +"Well, dear," said quiet Rose, smiling, "you knew there was a river; +your mother told us so." + +"Yes, Goose, I did know it," cried Hildegarde; "but I had not seen it, +and didn't know what it was like. It is all blue, with sparkles all over +it, and little brown flurries where the wind strikes it. There are +willows all along the edge--" + +"To hang our harps on?" inquired Rose. + +"Precisely!" replied Hildegarde. "And I think--Rose, I _do_ see a +boat-house! My dear, this is bliss! We will bathe every morning. You +have never seen me dive, Rose." + +"I have not," said Rose; "and it would be a pity to do it out of the +window, dear, because in the first place I should only see your heels as +you went out, and in the second--" + +"Peace, paltry soul!" cried Hilda. "Here comes a scow, loaded with wood. +The wood has been wet, and is all yellow and gleaming. 'Scow,'--what an +absurd word! 'Barge' is prettier." + +"It sounds so like Shalott," said Rose; "I must come and look too. + + "'By the margin, willow-veiled, + Slide the heavy barges, trailed + By slow horses.'" + +"Yes, it is just like it!" cried Hildegarde. "It is really a redeeming +feature in you, Rose, that you are so apt in your quotations. Say the +part about the river; that is exactly like what I am looking at." + +"Do you say it!" said Rose, coming softly forward, and taking her seat +beside her friend. "I like best to hear you." + +And Hildegarde repeated in a low tone,-- + + "Willows whiten, aspens quiver, + Little breezes dusk and shiver + Through the wave that runs forever + By the island in the river + Flowing down to Camelot." + +The two girls squeezed each other's hand a little, and looked at the +shining river, and straightway forgot that there was anything else to be +done, till a sharp little tinkle roused them from their dream. + +"Oh!" cried Hildegarde. "Rose, how _could_ you let me go +a-woolgathering? Just look at my hair!" + +"And my hands!" said Rose, in dismay. "And we said we were as hungry as +hunters, and would be down in a minute. What will Miss Bond say?" + +"Well, it is all the river's fault," said Hildegarde, splashing +vigorously in the basin. "It shouldn't be so lovely! Here, dear, here is +fresh water for you. Now the brush! Let me just wobble your hair up for +you, so. There! now you are my pinkest Rose, and I am all right too; so +down we go." + +Miss Wealthy had been seriously disturbed when the girls did not appear +promptly at sound of the tea-bell. She took her seat at the tea-table +and looked it over carefully. "Punctuality is so important," she said, +half to herself and half to Martha, who had just set down the +teapot,--"That mat is not _quite_ straight, is it, Martha?--especially +in young people. I know it makes you nervous, Martha,"--Martha did not +look in the least nervous,--"but it will probably not happen again. If +the butter were a _little_ farther this way! Thank you, Martha. Oh, here +you are, my dears! Sit down, pray! You must be very hungry after--But +probably you felt the need of resting a little, and to-morrow you will +be quite fresh." + +"No, it wasn't that, Cousin Wealthy," said Hildegarde, frankly. "I am +ashamed to say that we were looking out of the window, and the river was +so lovely that we forgot all about supper. Please forgive us this once, +for really we are pretty punctual generally. It is part of Papa's +military code, you know." + +"True, my dear, true!" said Miss Wealthy, brightening up at once. "Your +father is very wise. Regular habits are a great privilege, really. Will +you have tea, Hilda dear, or milk?" + +"Oh, milk, please!" said Hilda. "I am not to take tea till I am +twenty-one, Cousin Wealthy, nor coffee either." + +"And a very good plan," said Miss Wealthy, approvingly. "Milk is the +natural beverage--will you cut that pie, dear, and help Rose, and +yourself?--for the young. When one is older, however, a cup of tea is +very comforting. None for me, thank you, dear. I have my little dish of +milk-toast, but I thought the pie would be just right for you young +people. Martha's pastry is so _very_ light that a small quantity of it +is not injurious." + +"Rose!" said Hildegarde, in tones of hushed rapture, "it is a +chicken-pie, and it is all for us. Hold your plate, favored one of the +gods! A river, a boat-house, and chicken-pie! Cousin Wealthy, I am so +glad you asked us to come!" + +"Are you, dear?" said Miss Wealthy, looking up placidly from her +milk-toast, "Well, so am I!" + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +THE ORCHARD. + + +Next morning, when breakfast was over, Miss Wealthy made a little +speech, giving the two girls the freedom of the place. + +"You will find your own way about, my dears," she said. "I will only +give you some general directions. The orchard is to the right, beyond +the garden. There is a pleasant seat there under one of the apple-trees, +where you may like to sit. Beyond that are the woods. On the other side +of the house is the barnyard, and the road goes by to the village. You +will find plenty of flowers all about, and I hope you will amuse +yourselves." + +"Oh, indeed we shall, Cousin Wealthy!" cried Hildegarde. "It is delight +enough just to breathe this delicious air and look at the river." + +They were sitting on the piazza, from which the lawn sloped down to a +great hedge of Norway fir, just beyond which flowed the broad blue +stream of the Kennebec. + +"How about the river, Cousin Wealthy?" asked Hildegarde, timidly. "I +thought I saw a boat-house through the trees. Could we go out to row?" + +Miss Wealthy seemed a little flurried by the question. "My dear," she +said, and hesitated,--"my dear, have you--do your parents allow you to +go on the water? Can you swim?" + +"Oh, yes," said Hildegarde, "I can swim very well, Cousin Wealthy,--at +least, Papa says I can; and I can row and paddle and sail." + +"Oh, not sail!" cried Miss Wealthy, with an odd little catch in her +breath,--"not sail, my dear! I could not--I could not think of that for +a moment. But there is a row-boat," she added, after a pause,--"a boat +which Jeremiah uses. If Jeremiah thinks she is perfectly safe, you can +go out, if you feel quite sure your parents would wish it." + +"Oh, I am very sure," said Hildegarde; "for I asked Papa, almost the +last thing before we left. Thank you, Cousin Wealthy, so much! We will +be rather quiet this morning, for Rose does not feel very strong; but +this afternoon perhaps we will try the boat. Isn't there something I can +do for you, Cousin Wealthy? Can't I help Martha? I can do all kinds of +work,--can't I, Rose?--and I love it!" + +But Martha had a young girl in the kitchen, Miss Wealthy said, whom she +was training to help her; and she herself had letters to write and +accounts to settle. So the two girls sauntered off slowly, arm in arm; +Rose leaning on her friend, whose strong young frame seemed able to +support them both. + +The garden was a very pleasant place, with rhubarb and sunflowers, sweet +peas and mignonette, planted here and there among the rows of +vegetables, just as Jeremiah's fancy suggested. Miss Wealthy's own +flower-beds, trim and gay with geraniums, pansies, and heliotrope, were +under the dining-room windows; but somehow the girls liked Jeremiah's +garden best. Hildegarde pulled some sweet peas, and stuck the winged +blossoms in Rose's fair hair, giving a fly-away look to her smooth +locks. Then she began to sniff inquiringly. "Southernwood!" she +said,--"I smell southernwood somewhere, Rose. Where is it?" + +"Yonder," said Rose, pointing to a feathery bush not far off. + +"Oh! and there is lavender too, Hilda! Do you suppose we may pick some? +I do like to have a sprig of lavender in my belt." + +At this moment Jeremiah appeared, wheeling a load of turf. He was "long +and lank and brown as is the ribbed sea-sand," and Hildegarde mentally +christened him the Ancient Mariner on the spot; but he smiled sadly and +said, "_Good_-mornin'," and seemed pleased when the girls praised his +garden. "Ee-yus!" he said, with placid melancholy. "I've seen wuss +places. Minglin' the blooms with the truck and herbs was my idee, as you +may say,--'livens up one, and sobers down the other. _She_ laughs at me, +but she don't keer, s'long as she has all she wants. Cut ye some +mignonette? That's very favoryte with me,--very favoryte." + +He cut a great bunch of mignonette; and Rose, proffering her request for +lavender, received a nosegay as big as she could hold in both hands. + +"The roses is just comin' on," he said. "Over behind them beans they +are. A sight o' roses there'll be in another week. Coreopsis is pooty, +too; that's down the other side of the corn. Curus garding, folks +thinks; but, there, it's my idee, and she don't keer." + +Much amused, the girls thanked the melancholy prophet, and wandered away +into the orchard, to find the seat that Miss Wealthy had told them of. + +"Oh, what a lovely, lovely orchard!" cried Hildegarde, in delight; and +indeed it was a pretty place. The apple-trees were old, and curiously +gnarled and twisted, bending this way and that, as apple-trees will. The +short, fine grass was like emerald; there were no flowers at all, only +green and brown, with the sunlight flickering through the branches +overhead. They found the seat, which was curiously wedged into the +double trunk of the very patriarch of apple-trees. + +"Do look at him!" cried Hildegarde. "He is like a giant with the +rheumatism. Suppose we call him Blunderbore. What does twist them so, +Rose? Look! there is one with a trunk almost horizontal." + +"I don't know," said Rose, slowly. "Another item for the ignorance list, +Hilda. It is growing appallingly long. I really _don't_ know why they +twist so. In the forest they grow much taller than in orchards, and go +straight up. Farmer Hartley has seen one seventy feet high, he says." + +"Let us call it vegetable rheumatism!" said Hildegarde. "How _is_ your +poor back this morning, ma'am?" She addressed an ancient tree with +respectful sympathy; indeed, it did look like an aged dame bent almost +double. "Have you ever tried Pond's Extract? I think I must really buy a +gallon or so for you. And as long as you must bend over, you will not +mind if I take a little walk along your suffering spine, and sit on your +arm, will you?" + +She walked up the tree, and seated herself on a branch which was crooked +like a friendly arm, making a very comfortable seat. "She's a dear old +lady, Rose!" she cried. "Doesn't mind a bit, but thinks it rather does +her good,--like _massage_, you know. What do you suppose her name is?" + +"Dame Crump would do, wouldn't it?" replied Rose, looking critically at +the venerable dame. + +"Of course! and that ferocious old person brandishing three arms over +yonder must be Croquemitaine,-- + + "'Croquemitaine! Croquemitaine! + Ne dinerai pas 'vec toi!' + +I think they are rather a savage set,--don't you, Rosy?--all except my +dear Dame Crump here." + +"I _know_ they are," said Rose, in a low voice. "Hush! the three witches +are just behind you, Hilda. Their skinny arms are outstretched to clasp +you! Fly, and save yourself from the caldron!" + +"Avaunt!" cried Hilda, springing lightly from Dame Crump's sheltering +arm. "Ye secret, black, and midnight hags, what is 't ye do?" + +"A deed without a name!" muttered Rose, in sepulchral tones. + +"I think it is, indeed!" cried Hildegarde, laughing. "Poor old gouty +things! they can only claw the air, like Grandfather Smallweed, and +cannot take a single step to clutch me." + +"Just like me, as I was a year ago," said Rose, smiling. + +"Rose! how can you?" cried Hildegarde, indignantly; "as if you had not +always been a white rosebush." + +"On wheels!" said Rose. "I often think of my dear old chair, and wonder +if it misses me. Hildegarde dear!" + +"My lamb!" replied Hildegarde, sitting down by her friend and giving her +a little hug. + +"I wish you could know how wonderful it all is! I wish--no, I don't wish +you could be lame even for half an hour; but I wish you could just +_dream_ that you were lame, and then wake up and find everything right +again. Having always walked, you cannot know the wonder of it. To think +that I can stand up--so! and walk--so! actually one foot before the +other, just like other people. Oh! and I used to wonder how they did it. +I don't now understand how 'four-leggers,' as Bubble calls them, move +so many things without getting mixed up." + +"Dear Rose! you are happy, aren't you?" exclaimed Hildegarde, with +delight. + +"Happy!" echoed Rose, her sweet face glowing like her own name-flower. +"But I was always happy, you know, dear. Now it is happiness, with +fairyland thrown in. I am some wonderful creature, walking through +miracles; a kind of--Who was the fairy-knight you were telling me +about?" + +"Lohengrin?" said Hildegarde. "No, you are more like Una, in the 'Faerie +Queene.' In fact, I think you _are_ Una." + +"And then," continued Rose, "there is another thing! At least, there are +a thousand other things, but one that I was thinking of specially just +now, when you named the trees. That was only play to you; but, Hilda, it +used to be almost quite real for me,--that sort of thing. Sitting there +as I used, day after day, year after year, mostly alone,--for mother +and Bubble were always at work, you know,--you cannot imagine how real +all the garden-people, as I called them, were to me. Why, my +Eglantine--I never told you about Eglantine, Hilda!" + +"No, heartless thing! you never did," said Hildegarde; "and you may tell +me this instant. A pretty friend you are, keeping things from me in that +way!" + +"She was a fair maiden," said Rose. "She stood against the wall, just by +my window. She was very lovely and graceful, with long, slender arms. +Some people called her a sweetbrier-bush. She was my most intimate +friend, and was always peeping in at the window and calling me to come +out. When I came and sat close beside her in my chair, she would bend +over me, and tell me all about her love-affairs, which gave her a great +deal of trouble." + +"Poor thing!" said Hildegarde, sympathetically. + +"She had two lovers," continued Rose, dreamily, talking half to herself. +"One was Sir Scraggo de Cedar, a tall knight in rusty armor, who stood +very near her, and loved her to distraction. But she cared nothing for +him, and had given her heart to the South Wind,--the most fickle and +tormenting lover you can imagine. Sometimes he was perfectly charming, +and wooed her in the most enchanting manner, murmuring soft things in +her ear, and kissing and caressing her, till I almost fell in love with +him myself. Then he would leave her alone,--oh! for days and days,--till +she drooped, poor thing! and was perfectly miserable. And then perhaps +he would come again in a fury, and shake and beat her in the most +frightful manner, tearing her hair out, and sometimes flinging her right +into the arms of poor Sir Scraggo, who quivered with emotion, but never +took advantage of the situation. I used to be _very_ sorry for Sir +Scraggo." + +"What a shame!" cried Hildegarde, warmly. "Couldn't you make her care +for the poor dear?" + +"Oh, no!" said Rose. "She was very self-willed, that gentle Eglantine, +in spite of her soft, pretty ways. There was no moving her. She turned +her back as nearly as she could on Sir Scraggo, and bent farther and +farther toward the south, stretching her arms out as if imploring her +heartless lover to stay with her. I fastened her back to the wall once +with strips of list, for she was spoiling her figure by stooping so +much; but she looked so utterly miserable that I took them off again. +Dear Eglantine! I wonder if she misses me." + +"I think she was rather a minx, do you know?" said Hildegarde. "I +prefer Sir Scraggo myself." + +"Well," replied Rose, "one respected Sir Scraggo very much indeed; but +he was _not_ beautiful, and all the De Cedars are pretty stiff and +formal. Then you must remember he was older than Eglantine and I,--ever +and ever so much older." + +"That does make a difference," said Hildegarde. "Who were some other of +your garden people, you funniest Rose?" + +"There was Old Moneybags!" replied Rose. "How I did detest that old man! +He was a hideous old thorny cactus, all covered with warts and knobs and +sharp spines. Dear mother was very proud of him, and she was always +hoping he would blossom, but he never did. He lived in the house in +winter, but in spring Mother set him out in the flower-bed, just beside +the double buttercup. So when the buttercup blossomed, with its lovely +yellow balls, I played that Old Moneybags, who was an odious old miser, +was counting his gold. Then, when the petals dropped, he piled his money +in little heaps, and finally he buried it. He wasn't very interesting, +Old Moneybags, but the buttercups were lovely. Then there were Larry +Larkspur and Miss Poppy. I wonder--No! I don't believe you would." + +"What I like about your remarks," said Hildegarde, "is that they are so +clear. What do you mean by believing I wouldn't? I tell you I would!" + +"Well," said Rose, laughing and blushing, "it really isn't anything; +only--well, I made a little rhyme about Larry Larkspur and Miss Poppy +one summer. I thought of it just now; and first I wondered if it would +amuse you, and then I decided it wouldn't." + +"_You_ decided, forsooth!" cried Hildegarde. "'"Who are you?" said the +caterpillar.' I will hear about Larry Larkspur, if you please, without +more delay." + +"It really _isn't_ worth hearing!" said Rose. "Still, if you want it you +shall have it; so listen! + + "Larry Larkspur, Larry Larkspur, + Wears a cap of purple gay; + Trim and handy little dandy, + Straight and smirk he stands alway. + + "Larry Larkspur, Larry Larkspur, + Saw the Poppy blooming fair; + Loved her for her scarlet satin, + Loved her for her fringed hair. + + "Sent a message by the night-wind: + 'Wilt thou wed me, lady gay? + For the heart of Larry Larkspur + Beats and burns for thee alway.' + + "When the morning 'gan to brighten, + Eager glanced he o'er the bed. + Lo! the Poppy's leaves had fallen; + Bare and brown her ugly head. + + "Sore amazed stood Larry Larkspur, + And his heart with grief was big. + 'Woe is me! she was so lovely, + Who could guess she wore a wig?'" + +Hildegarde was highly delighted with the verses, and clamored for more; +but at this moment some one was seen coming toward them through the +trees. The some one proved to be Martha, with her sleeves rolled up, +beaming mildly through her spectacles. She carried a tray, on which were +two glasses of creamy milk and a plate of freshly baked cookies. Such +cookies! crisp and thin, with what Martha called a "pale bake" on them, +and just precisely the right quantity of ginger. + +"Miss Rose doesn't look over and above strong," she explained, as the +girls exclaimed with delight, "and 't would be a pity for her to eat +alone. The cookies is fresh, and maybe they're pretty good." + +"Martha," said Hildegarde, as she nibbled a cooky, "you are a saint! +Where do you keep your aureole, for I am sure you have one?" + +"There's a pair of 'em, Miss Hilda," replied Martha. "They build every +year in the big elm by the back door, and they do sing beautiful." + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +THE DOCTORS. + + +"My dears," said Miss Wealthy, as they sat down to dinner,--the bell +rang on the stroke of one, and the girls were both ready and waiting in +the parlor, which pleased the dear old lady very much,--"my dears, when +I made the little suggestions this morning as to how you should amuse +yourselves, I entirely forgot to mention Dr. Abernethy. I cannot imagine +how I should have forgotten it, but Martha assures me that I did. Dr. +Abernethy is entirely at your service in the mornings, but I generally +require him for an hour in the afternoon. I am sure Rose will be the +better for his treatment; and I trust you will both find him +satisfactory, though possibly he may seem to you a little slow, for he +is not so young as he once was." + +"Dr.--Oh, Cousin Wealthy!" exclaimed Hildegarde, in dismay. "But we are +perfectly well! At least--of course, Rose is not strong yet; but she is +gaining strength every day, and we have Dr. Flower's directions. Indeed, +we don't need any doctor." + +Cousin Wealthy smiled. She enjoyed a little joke as much as any one, and +Dr. Abernethy was one of her standing jokes. + +"I think, my dear," she said, "that you will be very glad to avail +yourself of the Doctor's services when once you know him. Indeed, I +shall make a point of your seeing him once a day, as a rule." Then, +seeing that both girls were thoroughly mystified, she added: "Dr. +Abernethy is a very distinguished physician. He gives no medicine, his +invariable prescription being a little gentle exercise. He lives--in +the stable, my dears, and he has four legs and a tail." + +"Oh! oh! Cousin Wealthy, how could you frighten us so!" cried +Hildegarde. "You must be kissed immediately, as a punishment." She flew +around the table, and kissed the soft cheek, like a crumpled blush rose. +"A horse! How delightful! Rose, we were wishing that we might drive, +weren't we? And what a funny, nice name! Dr. Abernethy! He was a great +English doctor, wasn't he? And I was wondering if some stupid country +doctor had stolen his name." + +"I had rather a severe illness a few years ago," said Miss Wealthy, "and +when I was recovering from it my physician advised me to try driving +regularly, saying that he should resign in favor of Dr. Horse. So I +bought this excellent beast, and named him Dr. Abernethy, after the +famous physician, whom I had seen once in London, when I was a little +girl." + +"It was he who used to do such queer things, wasn't it?" said +Hildegarde. "Did he do anything strange when you saw him, Cousin +Wealthy?" + +"Nothing really strange," said Miss Wealthy, "though it seemed so to me +then. He came to see my mother, who was ill, and bolted first into the +room where I sat playing with my doll. + +"'Who's this? who's this?' he said, in a very gruff voice. 'Little girl! +Humph! Tooth-ache, little girl?' + +"'No, sir,' I answered faintly, being frightened nearly out of my wits. + +"'Head-ache, little girl?' + +"'No, sir.' + +"'Stomach-ache, little girl?' + +"'Oh, no, sir!' + +"'Then take that!' and he thrust a little paper of chocolate drops into +my hand, and stumped out of the room as quickly as he had come in. I +thought he was an ogre at first; for I was only seven years old, and had +just been reading 'Jack and the Beanstalk;' but the chocolate drops +reassured me." + +"What an extraordinary man!" exclaimed Rose. "And was he a very good +doctor?" + +"Oh, wonderful!" replied Miss Wealthy. "People came from all parts of +the world to consult him, and he could not even go out in the street +without being clutched by some anxious patient. They used to tell a +funny story about an old woman's catching him in this way one day, when +he was in a great hurry,--but he was always in a hurry,--and pouring out +a long string of symptoms, so fast that the doctor could not get in a +word edgewise. At last he shouted 'Stop!' so loud that all the people in +the street turned round to stare. The old lady stopped in terror, and +Dr. Abernethy bade her shut her eyes and put her tongue out; then, when +she did so, he walked off, and left her standing there in the middle of +the sidewalk with her tongue out. I don't know whether it is true, +though." + +"Oh, I hope it is!" cried Hildegarde, laughing. "It is too funny not to +be true." + +"We had a very queer doctor at Glenfield some years ago," said Rose. "He +must have been just the opposite of Dr. Abernethy. He was very tall and +very slow, and spoke with the queerest drawl, using always the longest +words he could find. I never shall forget his coming to our house once +when Bubble had the measles. He had come a day or two before, but I had +not seen him. This time, however, I was in the room. He sat down by the +bed, and began stroking his long chin. It was the longest chin I ever +saw, nearly as long as the rest of his face. + +"'And is there any amelioration of the symptoms this morning?' he asked +Mother,--'ame-e-lioration?' (He was very fond of repeating any word that +he thought sounded well.) + +"Poor dear mother hadn't the faintest idea what amelioration was; and +she stammered and colored, and said she hadn't noticed any, and didn't +_think_ the child had it. But luckily I was in the 'Fifth Reader' then, +and had happened to have 'amelioration' in my spelling-lesson only a few +days before; so I spoke up and said, 'Oh, yes, Dr. Longman, he is a +great deal better, and he is really hungry to-day.' + +"'Ah!' said Dr. Longman, 'craves food, does he?--cra-aves food!' + +"Just then Bubble's patience gave out. He was getting better, and it +made him _so_ cross, poor dear! he snapped out, in his funny way, 'I've +got a bile comin' on my nose, and it hurts like fury!' + +"Dr. Longman stooped forward, put on his spectacles, and looked at the +boil carefully. 'Ah!' he said, 'furunculus,--furunculus! Is it--ah--is +it excru-ciating?' + +"I can't describe the way in which he pronounced the last word. As he +said it, he dropped his head, and looked over his spectacles at Bubble +in a way that was perfectly irresistible. Bubble gave a sort of howl, +and disappeared under the bedclothes; and I had a fit of coughing, which +made Mother very anxious. Dear mother! she never could see anything +funny about Dr. Longman." + +At this moment Martha entered, bringing the dessert,--a wonderful +almond-pudding, such as only Martha could make. She stopped a moment, +holding the door as if to prevent some one's coming in. + +"Here's the Doctor wants terrible to come in, Mam!" she said. "Will I +let him?" + +"Yes, certainly," said Miss Wealthy, smiling. "Let the good Doctor in!" + +The girls looked up in amazement, half expecting to see a horse's head +appear in the doorway; but instead, a majestic black "coon" cat, with +waving feathery tail and large yellow eyes, walked solemnly in, and +seeing the two strangers, stopped to observe them. + +"My dears, this is the other Doctor!" said Miss Wealthy, bending to +caress the new-comer "Dr. Samuel Johnson, at your service. He is one of +the most important members of the family. Doctor, I hope you will be +very friendly to these young ladies, and not take one of your absurd +dislikes to either of them. All depends upon the first impression, my +dears!" she added, in an undertone, to the girls. "He is forming his +opinion now, and nothing will ever alter it." + +Quite a breathless pause ensued; while the magnificent cat stood +motionless, turning his yellow eyes gravely from one to the other of the +girls. At length Hildegarde could not endure his gaze any longer, and +she said hastily but respectfully, "Yes, sir! I _have_ read 'Pilgrim's +Progress,' I assure you!--read it through and through, a number of +times, and love it dearly." + +Dr. Johnson instantly advanced, and rubbing his head against her dress, +purred loudly. He then went round to Rose, who sat opposite, and made +the same demonstration of good-will to her. + +"Dear pussy!" said Rose, stroking him gently, and scratching him behind +one ear in a very knowing manner. + +Miss Wealthy drew a long breath of satisfaction. "It is all right," she +said. "Martha, he is delighted with the young ladies. Dear Doctor! he +shall have some almond-pudding at once. Bring me his saucer, please, +Martha!" + +Martha brought a blue saucer; but Miss Wealthy looked at it with +surprise and disapproval. + +"That is not the Doctor's saucer, Martha," she said. "Is it possible +that you have forgotten? He has _always_ had the odd yellow saucer ever +since he was a kitten." + +"I'm sorry, Mam," said Martha, gently. "Jenny broke the yellow saucer +this morning, Mam, as she was washing it after the Doctor's breakfast. +I'm very sorry it should have happened, Mam." + +"_Broke the yellow saucer!_" cried Miss Wealthy. Her voice was as soft +as ever, but Hildegarde and Rose both felt as if the Russians had +entered Constantinople. There was a moment of dreadful silence, and +then Miss Wealthy tried to smile, and began to help to the +almond-pudding. "Yes, I am sure you are sorry, Martha!" she +said;--"Hilda, my dear, a little pudding?--and probably Jenny is sorry +too. You like the sauce, dear, don't you? We think Martha's +almond-pudding one of her best. I should not have minded so much if it +had been any other, but this was an odd one, and seemed so appropriate, +on account of Hogarth's 'Industrious Apprentice' done in brown on the +inside. Is it quite sweet enough for you, my dear Rose?" + +This speech was somewhat bewildering; but after a moment Rose succeeded +in separating the part that belonged to her, and said that the pudding +was most delicious. + +"Jenny broke a cup last winter, did she not, Martha?" asked Miss +Wealthy. + +"A very small cup, Mam," replied Martha, deprecatingly. "That's all she +has broken since she came. She's young, you know, Mam; and she says the +saucer just slipped out of her hand, and fell on the bricks." + +Miss Wealthy shivered a little, as if she heard the crash of the broken +china. "I cannot remember that you have broken anything, Martha," she +said, "in thirty years; and you were young when you came to me. But we +will not say anything more, and I dare say Jenny will be more careful in +future. The pudding is very good, Martha; and that will do, thank you." +Martha withdrew, and Miss Wealthy turned to the girls with a sad little +smile. "Martha is very exact," she said. "A thing of this sort troubles +her extremely. Very methodical, my good Martha!" + +"Hildegarde," said Rose, wishing to turn the subject and cheer the +spirits of their kind hostess, "what did you mean, just now, by telling +Dr. Johnson that you had read 'Pilgrim's Progress'? I am much puzzled!" + +Hildegarde laughed. "Oh!" she said, "he understood, but I will explain +for your benefit. When I was a little girl I was not inclined to like +'Pilgrim's Progress' at first. I thought it rather dull, and liked the +Fairy Book better. I said so to Papa one day; and instead of replying, +he went to the bookcase, and taking down Boswell's 'Life of Johnson,' he +read me a little story. I think I can say it in the very words of the +book, they made so deep an impression on me: 'Dr. Johnson one day took +Bishop Percy's little daughter on his knee, and asked her what she +thought of 'Pilgrim's Progress.' The child answered that she had not +read it. 'No!' replied the Doctor; 'then I would not give one farthing +for you!' And he set her down, and took no further notice of her.' When +Papa explained to me," continued Hildegarde, laughing, "what a great man +Dr. Johnson was, it seemed to me very dreadful that he should think me, +or another little girl like me, not worth a farthing. So I set to work +with right good-will at 'Pilgrim's Progress;' and when I was once fairly +_in_ the story, of course I couldn't put it down till I had finished +it." + +"Your father is a very sensible man," said Miss Wealthy, approvingly. +"'Pilgrim's Progress' is an important part of a child's education, +certainly! Let me give you a little more pudding, Hilda, my dear! No! +nor you, Rose? Then, if the Doctor is ready, suppose we go into the +parlor." + +They found the parlor very cool and pleasant, with the blinds, as usual, +drawn half-way down. Miss Wealthy drew one blind half an inch lower, +compared it with the others, and pushed it up an eighth of an inch. + +"And what are you going to do with yourselves this afternoon, girlies?" +she asked, settling herself in her armchair, and smelling of her +pansies, which, as usual, stood on the little round table at her elbow. + +"Rose must go and lie down at once!" said Hildegarde, decidedly. "She +must lie down for two hours every day at first, Dr. Flower says, and one +hour by and by, when she is a great deal stronger. And I--oh, I shall +read to her a little, till she begins to be sleepy, and then I shall +write to Mamma and wander about. This is such a _happy_ place, Cousin +Wealthy! One does not need to do anything in particular; it is enough +just to be alive and well." Then she remembered her manners, and added: +"But isn't there something I can do for you, Cousin Wealthy? Can't I +write some notes for you,--I often write notes for Mamma,--or wind some +worsted, or do something useful? I have been playing all day, you +know." + +Miss Wealthy looked pleased. "Thank you, my dear!" she said warmly. "I +shall be very glad of your help sometimes; but to-day I really have +nothing for you to do, and besides, I think the first day ought to be +all play. If you can make yourself happy in this quiet place, that is +all I shall ask of you to-day. I shall probably take a little nap +myself, as I often do after dinner, sitting here in my chair." + +Obeying Hildegarde's imperative nod, Rose left her seat by the window, +half reluctantly, and moved slowly toward the door. "It seems wicked to +lie down on such a day!" she murmured; "but I suppose I must." + +As she spoke, she heard a faint, a very faint sigh from Miss Wealthy. +Feeling instinctively that something was wrong, she turned and saw that +the tidy on the back of the chair she had been sitting in had slipped +down. She went back quickly, straightened it, patted it a little, and +then with an apologetic glance and smile at the old lady, went to join +Hildegarde. + +"A very sweet, well-mannered girl!" was Miss Wealthy's mental comment, +as her eyes rested contentedly on the smooth rectangular lines of the +tidy. "Two of the sweetest girls, in fact, that I have seen for a good +while. Mildred has brought up her daughter extremely well; and when one +thinks of it, she herself has developed in a most extraordinary manner. +A most notable and useful woman, Mildred! Who would have thought it?" + +Rose slept in the inner bedroom, which opened directly out of +Hildegarde's, with a curtained doorway between. It was a pretty room, +and very appropriate for Rose, as there were roses on the wall-paper and +on the soft gray carpet. Here the ex-invalid, as she began to call +herself, lay down on the cool white bed, in the pretty summer wrapper +of white challis, dotted with rosebuds, which had been Mrs. Grahame's +parting present. Hildegarde put a light shawl over her, and then sat +down on the window-seat. + +"Shall I read or sing, Rosy?" she asked. + +"Oh! but are you quite sure you don't want to do something else, dear?" +asked Rose. + +"Absolutely sure!" said Hildegarde. "Quite positively sure!" + +"Then," said Rose, "sing that pretty lullaby that you found in the old +song-book the other day. So pretty! it is the one that Patient Grissil +sings to her babies, isn't it?" + +So Hilda sang, as follows:-- + + "'Golden slumbers kiss your eyes, + Smiles awake you when you rise. + Sleep, pretty wantons, do not cry, + And I will sing a lullaby. + Rock them, rock them, lullaby. + + "'Care is heavy, therefore sleep you; + You are care, and care must keep you. + Sleep, pretty wantons, do not cry, + And I will sing a lullaby. + Rock them, rock them, lullaby.'" + +Hildegarde glanced at the bed, and saw that Rose's eyes were just +closing. Still humming the last lines of the lullaby, she cast about in +her mind for something else; and there came to her another song of +quaint old Thomas Dekker, which she loved even more than the other. She +sang softly,-- + + "'Art thou poor, yet hast thou golden slumbers? + O sweet Content! + Art thou rich, yet is thy mind perplexed? + O Punishment! + Dost laugh to see how fools are vexed + To add to golden numbers golden numbers? + O sweet Content, O sweet, O sweet Content! + + "'Canst drink the waters of the crisped spring? + O sweet Content! + Swim'st thou in wealth, yet sink'st in thine own tears? + O Punishment! + Then he that patiently Want's burden bears + No burden bears, but is a king, a king. + O sweet Content, O sweet, O sweet Content.'" + +Once more Hildegarde glanced at the bed; then, rising softly and still +humming the lovely refrain, she slipped out of the room; for Rose, the +"sweet content" resting like sunshine on her face, was asleep. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +ON THE RIVER. + + +Hildegarde went softly downstairs, and stood in the doorway for a few +minutes, looking about her. The house was very still; nothing seemed to +be stirring, or even awake, except herself. She peeped into the parlor, +and saw Cousin Wealthy placidly sleeping in her easy-chair. At her feet, +on a round hassock, lay Dr. Johnson, also sleeping soundly. "It is the +enchanted palace," said Hildegarde to herself; "only the princess has +grown old in the hundred years,--but so prettily old!--and the prince +would have to be a stately old gentleman to match her." She went out on +the lawn; still there was no sound, save the chirping of grasshoppers +and crickets. It was still the golden prime of a perfect June day; what +would be the most beautiful thing to do where all was beauty? Read, or +write letters? No! that she could do when the glory had begun to fade. +She walked about here and there,--"just enjoying herself," she said. She +touched the white heads of the daisies; but did not pick them, because +they looked so happy. She put her arms round the most beautiful +elm-tree, and gave it a little hug, just to thank it for being so +stately and graceful, and for bending its branches over her so lovingly. +Then a butterfly came fluttering by. It was a Camberwell Beauty, and +Hildegarde followed it about a little as it hovered lazily from one +daisy to another. + +"Last year at this time," she said, thinking aloud, "I didn't know what +a Camberwell Beauty was. I didn't know any butterflies at all; and if +any one had said 'Fritillary' to me, I should have thought it was +something to eat." This disgraceful confession was more than the Beauty +could endure, and he fluttered away indignant. + +"I don't wonder!" said the girl. "But you'd better take care, my dear. I +know you now, and I don't _think_ Bubble has more than two of your kind +in his collection. I promised to get all the butterflies and moths I +could for the dear lad, and if you are too superior, I may begin with +you." + +At this moment a faint creak fell on her ear, coming from the direction +of the garden. "As of a wheelbarrow!" she said. +"Jeremiah!--boat!--river!--_now_ I know what I was wanting to do." She +ran round to the garden; and there, to be sure, was Jeremiah, wheeling +off a huge load of weeds. + +"Oh, Jeremiah!" said Hildegarde, eagerly, "is the--do you think the boat +is safe?" + +[Illustration: "'DO SAY IT'S ALL RIGHT, JEREMIAH!'"] + +Jeremiah put down his load and looked at her with sad surprise. "The +boat?" he repeated. "She's all safe! I was down to the wharf this +mornin'. Nobody's had her out, 's I know of." + +"Oh, I didn't mean that!" said Hildegarde, laughing. "I mean, is she +safe for me to go in? Miss Bond said that I could go out on the river, +if _you_ said it was all right. _Do_ say it's all right, Jeremiah!" + +Jeremiah never smiled, but his melancholy lightened several shades. +"She's right enough," he said,--"the boat. She isn't hahnsome, but she's +stiddy 's a rock. _She_ don't like boats, any way o' the world, but I'll +take ye down and get her out for ye." + +Rightly conjecturing that the last "her" referred to the boat, +Hildegarde gladly followed the Ancient Mariner down the path that sloped +from the garden, through a green pasture, round to the river-bank. Here +she found the boat-house, whose roof she had seen from her window, and +a gray wharf with moss-grown piers. The tide was high, and it took +Jeremiah only a few minutes to pull the little green boat out, and set +her rocking on the smooth water. + +"Oh, thank you!" said Hildegarde. "I am so much obliged!" + +"No need ter!" responded Jeremiah, politely. "Ye've handled a boat +before, have ye?" + +"Oh, yes," she said. "I don't think I shall have any trouble." And as +she spoke, she stepped lightly in, and seating herself, took the oars +that he handed her. "And which is the prettiest way to row, +Jeremiah,--up river, or down?" + +Jeremiah meditated. "Well," he said, "I don't hardly know as I can +rightly tell. Some thinks one way's pooty; some thinks t' other. Both of +'em 's sightly, to my mind." + +"Then I shall try both," said Hildegarde, laughing. "Good-by, Jeremiah! +I will bring the boat back safe." + +The oars dipped, and the boat shot off into midstream. Jeremiah looked +after it a few minutes, and then turned back toward the house. "_She_ +knows what she's about!" he said to himself. + +Near the bank the water had been a clear, shining brown, with the +pebbles showing white and yellow through it; but out here in the middle +of the river it was all a blaze and ripple and sparkle of blue and gold. +Hildegarde rested on her oars, and sat still for a few minutes, basking +in the light and warmth; but soon she found the glory too strong, and +pulled over to the other side, where high steep banks threw a shadow on +the water. Here the water was very deep, and the rocks showed as clear +and sharp beneath it as over it. Hildegarde rowed slowly along, +sometimes touching the warm stone with her hand. She looked down, and +saw little minnows and dace darting about, here and there, up and down. +"How pleasant to be a fish!" she thought. "There comes one up out of the +water. Plop! Did you get the fly, old fellow? + + "'They wriggled their tails; + In the sun glanced their scales.'" + +Then she tried to repeat "Saint Anthony's Sermon to the Fishes," of +which she was very fond. + + "Sharp-snouted pikes, + Who keep fighting like tikes, + Now swam up harmonious + To hear Saint Antonius. + No sermon beside + Had the pikes so edified." + +Presently something waved in the shadow,--something moving, among the +still reflections of the rocks. Hildegarde looked up. There, growing in +a cranny of the rock above her, was a cluster of purple bells, nodding +and swaying on slender thread-like stems. They were so beautiful that +she could only sit still and look at them at first, with eyes of +delight. But they were so friendly, and nodded in such a cheerful way, +that she soon felt acquainted with them. + +"You dears!" she cried; "have you been waiting there, just for me to +come and see you?" + +The harebells nodded, as if there were no doubt about it. + +"Well, here I am!" Hildegarde continued; "and it was very nice of you to +come. How do you like living on the rock there? He must be very proud of +you, the old brown giant, and I dare say you enjoy the water and the +lights and shadows, and would not stay in the woods if you could. If I +were a flower, I should like to be one of you, I think. Good-by, dear +pretties! I should like to take you home to Rose, but it would be a +wickedness to pick you." + +She kissed her hand to the friendly blossoms, and they nodded a pleasant +good-by, as she floated slowly down stream. A little farther on, she +came to a point of rock that jutted out into the river; on it a single +pine stood leaning aslant, throwing a perfect double of itself on the +glassy water. Hildegarde rested in the shadow. "To be in a boat and in a +tree at the same moment," she thought, "is a thing that does not happen +to every one. Rose will not believe me when I tell her; yet here are the +branches all around me, perfect, even to the smallest twig. Query, am I +a bird or a fish? Here is actually a nest in the crotch of these +branches, but I fear I shall find no eggs in it." Turning the point of +rock, she found on the other side a fairy cove, with a tiny patch of +silver sand, and banks of fern coming to the water's edge on either +side. Some of the ferns dipped their fronds in the clear water, while +taller ones peeped over their heads, trying to catch a glimpse of their +own reflection. + +Hildegarde's keen eyes roved among the green masses, seeking the +different varieties,--botrychium, lady-fern, delicate hart's-tongue; +behind these, great nodding ostrich-ferns, bending their stately plumes +over their lowlier sisters; beyond these again a tangle of brake running +up into the woods. "Why, it is a fern show!" she thought. "This must be +the exhibition room for the whole forest. Visitors will please not touch +the specimens!" + +She pulled close to the bank. Instantly there was a rustle and a flutter +among the ferns; a little brown bird flew out, and perching on the +nearest tree, scolded most violently. Very carefully Hildegarde drew +the ferns aside, and lo! a wonderful thing,--a round nest, neatly built +of moss and tiny twigs; and in it four white eggs spotted with brown. + +"It is too good to be true," thought the girl. "I am asleep, and I shall +wake in a moment. I haven't done anything to deserve seeing this. Rose +is good enough; I wish she were here." + +But the little brown bird was by this time in a perfect frenzy of +maternal alarm; and very reluctantly, with an apology to the angry +matron, Hildegarde let the ferns swing back into place, and pulled the +boat away from the bank. On the whole, it seemed the most beautiful +thing she had ever seen; but everything was so beautiful! + +The girl's heart was very full of joy and thankfulness as she rowed +along. Life was so full, so wonderful, with new wonders, new beauties, +opening for her every day. "Let all that hath life praise the Lord!" she +murmured softly; and the very silence seemed to fill with love and +praise. Then her thoughts went back to the time, a little more than a +year ago, when she neither knew nor cared about any of these things; +when "the country" meant to her a summer watering-place, where one went +for two or three months, to wear the prettiest of light dresses, and to +ride and drive and walk on the beach. Her one idea of life was the life +of cities,--of _one_ city, New York. A country-girl, if she ever thought +of such a thing, meant simply an ignorant, coarse, common girl, who had +no advantages. No advantages! and she herself, all the time, did not +know one tree from another. She had been the cleverest girl in school, +and she could not tell a robin's note from a vireo's; as for the +wood-thrush, she had never heard of it. A flower to her meant a +hot-house rose; a bird was a bird; a butterfly was a butterfly. All +other insects, the whole winged host that fills the summer air with life +and sound, were included under two heads, "millers" and "bugs." + +"No, not _quite_ so bad as that!" she cried aloud, laughing, though her +cheeks burned at her own thoughts. "I _did_ know bees and wasps, and I +_think_ I knew a dragon-fly when I saw him." + +But for the rest, there seemed little to say in her defence. She was +just like Peter Bell, she thought; and she repeated Wordsworth's +lines,-- + + "A primrose by a river's brim + A yellow primrose was to him, + And it was nothing more." + +Here was this little brown bird, for example. Bird and song and eggs, +all together could not tell her its name. She drew from her pocket a +little brown leather note-book, and wrote in it, "Four white eggs, +speckled with brown; brown bird, small, nest of fine twigs, on +river-bank;" slipped it in her pocket again, and rowed on, feeling +better. After all, it was so _very_ much better to know that one had +been a goose, than not to know it! Now that her eyes were once open, was +she not learning something new every day, almost every hour? + +She rowed on now with long strokes, for the bank was steep and rocky +again, and there were no more fairy coves. Soon, however, she came to an +island,--a little round island in the middle of the river, thickly +covered with trees. This was a good place to turn back at, for Rose +would be awake by this time and looking for her. First, however, she +would row around the island, and consider it from all sides. + +The farther side showed an opening in the trees, and a pretty little +dell, shaded by silver birches,--a perfect place for a picnic, thought +Hildegarde. She would bring Rose here some day, if good Martha would +make them another chicken-pie; perhaps Cousin Wealthy would come too. +Dear Cousin Wealthy! how good and kind and pretty she was! One would not +mind growing old, if one could be sure of being good and pretty, and +having everybody love one. + +At this moment, as Hildegarde turned her boat up river, something very +astonishing happened. Not ten yards away from her, a huge body shot up +out of the water, described a glittering arc, and fell again, +disappearing with a splash which sent the spray flying in all directions +and made the rocks echo. Hildegarde sat quite still for several minutes, +petrified with amazement, and, it must be confessed, with fear. Who ever +heard of such a thing as this? A fish? Why, it was as big as a young +whale! Only whales didn't come up rivers, and she had never heard of +their jumping out of water in this insane way. Suppose the creature +should take it into his head to leap again, and should fall into the +boat? At this thought our heroine began to row as fast as she could, +taking long strokes, and making the boat fairly fly through the water; +though, as she said to herself, it would not make any difference, if her +enemy were swimming in the same direction. + +Presently, however, she heard a second splash behind her, and turning, +saw the huge fish just disappearing, at some distance down river. She +recovered her composure, and in a few minutes was ready to laugh at her +own terrors. + +Homeward now, following the west bank, as she had gone down along the +east. This side was pretty, too, though there were no rocks nor ferny +coves. On the contrary, the water was quite shallow, and full of brown +weeds, which brushed softly against the boat. Not far from the bank she +saw the highway, looking white and dusty, with the afternoon sun lying +on it. "No dust on my road!" she said exultingly; "and no hills!" she +added, as she saw a wagon, at some distance, climbing an almost +perpendicular ascent. "I wonder what these water-plants are! Rose would +know, of course." + +Now came the willows that she had seen from the window,--the "margin +willow-veiled" that had reminded her of the Lady of Shalott. It was +pleasant to row under them, letting the cool, fragrant leaves brush +against her face. Here, too, were sweet-scented rushes, of which she +gathered an armful for Rose, who loved them; and in this place she made +the acquaintance of a magnificent blue dragon-fly, which alighted on +her oar as she lifted it from the water, and showed no disposition to +depart. His azure mail glittered in the sunlight; his gauzy wings, as he +furled and unfurled them deliberately, were like cobwebs powdered with +snow. He evidently expected to be admired, and Hildegarde could not +disappoint him. + +"Fair sir," she said courteously, "I doubt not that you are the Lancelot +of dragon-flies. Your armor is the finest I ever saw; doubtless, it has +been polished by some lily maid of a white butterfly, or she might be a +peach-blossom moth,--daintiest of all winged creatures. The sight of you +fills my heart with rapture, and I fain would gaze on you for hours. +Natheless, fair knight, time presses, and if you _would_ remove your +chivalrous self from my unworthy oar,--really not a fit place for your +knighthood,--I should get on faster." + +Sir Lancelot deigning no attention to this very civil speech, she +splashed her other oar in the water, and exclaimed, "Hi!" sharply, +whereupon the gallant knight spread his shining wings and departed in +wrath. + +And now the boat-house was near, and the beautiful, beautiful time was +over. Hildegarde took two or three quick strokes, and then let the boat +drift on toward the wharf, while she leaned idly back and trailed her +hand in the clear water. It had been so perfect, so lovely, she was very +loath to go on shore again. But the thought of Rose came,--sweet, +patient Rose, wondering where her Hilda was; and then she rowed quickly +on, and moored the boat, and clambered lightly up the wharf. + +"Good-by, good boat!" she cried. "Good-by, dear beautiful river! I shall +see you to-morrow, the day after, every other day while I am here. I +have been happy, happy, happy with you. Good-by!" And with a final wave +of her hand, Hildegarde ran lightly up the path that led to the house. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +A MORNING DRIVE. + + +Punctually at ten o'clock the next morning Dr. Abernethy stood before +the door, with a neat phaeton behind him; and the girls were summoned +from the piazza, where Rose was taking her French lesson. + +"My dears," said Miss Wealthy, "are you ready? You said ten o'clock, and +the clock has already struck." + +"Oh, yes, Cousin Wealthy!" cried Hildegarde, starting up, and dropping +one book on the floor and another on the chair. "We are coming +immediately. Rose, _nous allons faire une promenade en voiture! Repetez +cette phrase!_" + +"_Nous allong_--" began Rose, meekly; but she was cut short in her +repetition. + +"Not _allong_, dear, _allons_, _ons_. Keep your mouth open, and don't +let your tongue come near the roof of your mouth after the _ll_. +_Allons!_ Try once more." + +"You need not wait, Jeremiah," said Miss Wealthy, in a voice that tried +not to be plaintive. "I dare say the young ladies will be ready in a +minute or two, and I will stand by the Doctor till they come." + +Hildegarde heard, smote her breast, flew upstairs for their hats and a +shawl and pillow for Rose. In three minutes they were in the carriage, +but not till a kiss and a whispered apology from Hildegarde had driven +the slight cloud--not of vexation, but of wondering sadness; it seemed +such a strange thing, not to be ready and waiting when Dr. Abernethy +came to the door--from Miss Wealthy's kind face. + +"Good-by, dear Cousin Wealthy!" and "Good-by, dear Miss Bond!" cried the +two happy girls; and off they drove in high spirits, while Miss Wealthy +went back to the piazza and picked up the French books, wiped them +carefully, and then went upstairs and put them in the little bookcase in +Hildegarde's room. + +"She is a very dear girl," she said, shaking her head; "a little +heedless, but perhaps all girls are. Why, Mildred--oh! but Mildred was +an exception. I suppose," she added, "they call me an old maid. Very +likely. Not these girls,--for they are too well-mannered,--but people. +An old maid!" Miss Wealthy sighed a little, and put her hand up to the +pansy breastpin,--a favorite gesture of hers; and then she went into the +house, to make a new set of bags for the curtain-tassels. + +Meanwhile the girls were driving along, looking about them, and +enjoying themselves immensely. Jeremiah had given them directions for a +drive "just about _so_ long," and they knew that they were to turn three +times to the left and never to the right. And first they went up a hill, +from the top of which they saw "all the kingdoms of the earth," as Rose +said. The river valley was behind them, and they could see the silver +stream here and there, gleaming between its wooded banks. Beyond were +blue hills, fading into the blue of the sky. But before them--oh! before +them was the wonder. A vast circle, hill and dale and meadow, all shut +in by black, solemn woods; and beyond the woods, far, far away, a range +of mountains, whose tops gleamed white in the sunlight. + +"There is snow on them," said Rose. "Oh, Hildegarde! they must be the +White Mountains. Jeremiah told me that we could see them from here. +That highest peak must be Mount Washington. Oh, to think of it!" + +They sat in silence for a few moments, watching the mountains, which lay +like giants at rest. + +"Rose," said Hildegarde, at length, "the Great Carbuncle is there, +hidden in some crevice of those mountains; and the Great Stone Face is +there, and oh! so many wonderful things. Some day we will go there, you +and I; sometime when you are quite, quite strong, you know. And we will +see the Flume and the wonderful Notch. You remember Hawthorne's story of +the 'Ambitious Guest'? I think it is one of the most beautiful of all. +Perhaps--who knows?--we may find the Great Carbuncle." They were silent +again; but presently Dr. Abernethy, who cared nothing whatever about +mountains or carbuncles, whinnied, and gave a little impatient shake. + +"Of course!" said Hildegarde. "Poor dear! he was hot, wasn't he? and the +flies bothered him. Here is our turn to the left; a pine-tree at the +corner,--yes, this must be it! Good-by, mountains! Be sure to stay there +till the next time we come." + +"What was that little poem about the Greek mountains that you told me +the other day?" asked Rose, as they drove along,--"the one you have +copied in your commonplace book. You said it was a translation from some +modern Greek poet, didn't you?" + +"Yes," said Hildegarde; "but I don't know what poet. I found it in a +book of Dr. Felton's at home." + +She thought a moment, and then repeated the verses,-- + + "'Why are the mountains shadowed o'er? + Why stand they darkened grimly? + Is it a tempest warring there, + Or rain-storm beating on them? + + "'It is no tempest warring there, + No rain-storm beating on them, + But Charon sweeping over them, + And with him the departed.'" + +"Look!" she cried, a few moments after. "There is just such a +cloud-shadow sweeping over that long hill on the left. Is it true, I +wonder? I never see those flying shadows without thinking of 'Charon +sweeping over them.' It is such a comfort, Rose, that we like the same +things, isn't it?" + +"Indeed it is!" said Rose, heartily. "But, oh! Hilda dear, stop a +moment! There is some yellow clover. Why, I had no idea it grew so far +north as this!" + +"Yellow clover!" repeated Hildegarde, looking about her. "Who ever heard +of yellow clover? I don't see any." + +"No, dear," said Rose; "it does not grow in the sides of buggies, nor +even on stone-walls. If you could bend your lofty gaze to the ditch by +the roadside, you might possibly see it." + +"Oh, there!" said Hildegarde, laughing. "Take the reins, Miss Impudence, +and I will get them." She sprang lightly out, and returned with a +handful of yellow blossoms. + +"Are they really clover?" she asked, examining them curiously. "I had no +idea there were more than two kinds, red and white." + +"There are eight kinds, child of the city," said Rose, "beside melilot, +which is a kind of clover-cousin. This yellow is the hop-clover. Dear +me! how it does remind me of my Aunt Caroline." + +"And how, let me in a spirit of love inquire, does it resemble your Aunt +Caroline? Is she yellow?" + +"She was, poor dear!" replied Rose. "She has been dead now--oh! a long +time. She was an aunt of Mother's; and once she had the jaundice, and +it seems to me she was always yellow after that. But that was not all, +Hilda. There was an old handbook of botany among Father's books, and I +used to read it a great deal, and puzzle over the long words. I always +liked long words, even when I was a little wee girl. Well, one day I was +reading, and Aunt Caroline happened to come in. She despised reading, +and thought it was an utter waste of time, and that I ought to sew or +knit all the time, since I could not help Mother with the housework. She +was very practical herself, and a famous housekeeper. So she looked at +me, and frowned, and said, 'Well, Pink, mooning away over a book as +usual? Useless rubbish! yer ma'd ought to keep ye at work.' I didn't say +anything; I never said much to Aunt Caroline, because I knew she didn't +like me, and I suppose I was rather spoiled by every one else being +_too_ good to me. But I looked down at my old book, which was open at +'Trefolium: Clover.' And there I read--oh, Hilda, it is really too bad +to tell!--I read: 'The teeth bristle-form'--and hers did stick out +nearly straight!--'corolla mostly withering or persistent; the +claws'--and then I began to laugh, for it was _exactly_ like Aunt +Caroline herself; she was _so_ withering, and _so_ persistent! And I sat +there and giggled, a great girl of thirteen, till I got perfectly +hysterical. The more I laughed, the angrier she grew, of course; till at +last she went out into the kitchen and slammed the door after her. But I +heard her telling Mother that that gal of hers appeared to be losing +such wits as she had,--not that 't was any great loss, as fur as she +could see. Wasn't that dreadful, Hildegarde? Of course I was wheeled +over to her house the next day, and begged her pardon; but she was still +withering and persistent, though she said, 'Very excusable!' at last." + +"Why, Rose!" said Hildegarde, laughing. "I didn't suppose you were +_ever_ naughty, even when you were a baby." + +"Oh, indeed I was!" answered Rose; "just as naughty as any one else, I +suppose. Did I ever tell you how I came near making poor Bubble deaf? +That wasn't exactly naughty, because I didn't mean to do anything bad; +but it was funny. I must have been about five years old, and I used to +sit in a sort of little chair-cart that Father made for me. One day +Mother was washing, and she set me down beside the baby's cradle (that +was Bubble, of course), and told me to watch him, and to call her if he +cried. Well, for a while, Mother said, all was quiet. Then she heard +Baby fret a little, and then came a queer sort of noise, she could not +tell what, and after that quiet again. So she thought what a nice, +helpful little girl I was getting to be; and when she came in she said, +'Well, Pinkie, you stopped the baby's fretting, didn't you?' + +"'Oh, yes, Mother!' I said, as pleased as possible. 'I roared in his +ear!' You may imagine how frightened Mother was; but fortunately it did +him no harm." + +Here the road dipped down into a gully, and Dr. Abernethy had to pick +his way carefully among loose stones. Presently the stone-walls gave +place to a most wonderful kind of fence,--a kind that even country-bred +Rose had never seen before. When the great trees, the giants of the old +forest, had been cut, and the ground cleared for farm-lands and +pastures, their stumps had been pulled up by the roots; and these roots, +vast, many-branched, twisted into every imaginable shape, were locked +together, standing edgewise, and tossing their naked arms in every +direction. + +"Oh, how wonderful!" cried Hildegarde. "Look, Rose! they are like the +bones of some great monster,--a gigantic cuttlefish, perhaps. What huge +trees they must have been, to have such roots as these!" + +"Dear, beautiful things!" sighed Rose. "If they could only have been +left! Isn't it strange to think of people not caring for trees, Hilda?" + +"Yes!" said Hilda, meekly, and blushing a little. "It is strange now; +but before last year, Rose, I don't believe I ever looked at a tree." + +"Oh, before last year!" cried Rose, laughing. "There wasn't any 'before +last year.' I had never heard of Shelley before last year. I had never +read a ballad, nor a 'Waverley,' nor the 'Newcomes,' nor anything. +Let's not talk about the dark ages. You love trees now, I'm sure." + +"That I do!" said Hildegarde. "The oak best of all, the elm next; but I +love them all." + +"The pine is my favorite," said Rose. "The great stately king, with his +broad arms; it always seems as if an eagle should be sitting on one of +them. What was that line you told me the other day?--'The pine-tree +spreads his dark-green layers of shade.' Tennyson, isn't it?" + +"Yes," replied Hildegarde. "But it was 'Cranford' that made me think of +it. And it isn't 'pine-tree,' after all. I looked, and found it was +'cedar.' Mr. Holbrook, you remember,--Miss Matty's old lover,--quotes +it, when they are taking tea with him. Dear Miss Matty! do you think +Cousin Wealthy is the least little bit like her, Rose?" + +"Perhaps!" said Rose, thoughtfully. "I think--Oh, Hilda, look!" she +cried, breaking off suddenly. "What a queer little house!" + +Hildegarde checked Dr. Abernethy, who had been trotting along quite +briskly, and they both looked curiously at the little house on their +left, which certainly was "queer,"--a low, unpainted shanty, gray with +age, the shingles rotting off, and moss growing in the chinks. The small +panes of glass were crusted with dirt, and here and there one had been +broken, and replaced with brown paper. The front yard was a tangle of +ribbon-grass and clover; but a tuft of straggling flowers here and there +showed that it had once had care and attention. There was no sign of +life about the place. + +"Rose!" cried Hildegarde, stopping the horse with a pull of the reins; +"it is a deserted house. Do you know that I have never seen one in my +life? I must positively take a peep at it, and see what it is like +inside. Take the reins, Bonne Silene, while I go and reconnoitre the +position." She jumped out, and making her way as best she might through +the grassy tangle, was soon gazing in at one of the windows. "Oh!" she +cried, "it _isn't_ deserted, Rose! At least?--well, some one has been +here. But, oh, me! oh, _me_! What a place! I never, never dreamed of +such a place. I--" + +"What _is_ the matter?" cried Rose. "If you don't tell me, I shall jump +out!" + +"No, you won't!" said Hildegarde. "You'd better not, Miss! but _oh_, +dear! who ever, ever dreamed of such a place? My dear, it is the Abode +of Dirt. Squalid is no word for it; squalor is richness compared to this +house. I am looking--sit still, Rose!--I am looking into a room about as +big as a comfortable pantry. There is a broken stove in it, and a table, +and a stool; and in the room beyond I can see a bed,--at least, I +suppose it is meant for a bed. Oh! what person _can_ live here?" + +"_I am coming_, Hilda," said Rose. "The only question is whether I get +out with your help or without." + +"Obstinate Thing!" cried Hildegarde, flying to her assistance. "Well, it +shall see the lovely sight, so it shall. Carefully, now; don't trip on +these long grass-loops. There! isn't that a pretty place? Now enjoy +yourself, while I get out the tie-rein, and fasten the good beast to a +tree." + +In hunting for the tie-rein under the seat of the carriage, Hildegarde +discovered something else which made her utter an exclamation of +surprise. "Luncheon!" she cried. "Rose, my dear, did you know about this +basket? Saint Martha must have put it in. Turnovers, Rose! sandwiches, +Rose! and, I declare, a bottle of milk and a tin cup. Were ever two +girls so spoiled as we shall be?" + +[Illustration: "THEN THEY HUGGED EACH OTHER A LITTLE."] + +"How kind!" said Rose. "I am not in the least hungry, but I _should_ +like a cup of milk. Oh, Hildegarde!" + +"What now?" asked that young woman, returning with the precious basket, +and applying her nose once more to the window. "Fresh horrors?" + +"My dear," said Rose, "look! That is the pantry,--that little cupboard, +with the door hanging by one hinge; and there isn't anything in it to +eat, except three crackers and an onion." + +Both girls gazed in silence at the forlorn scene before them. Then they +looked at each other. Hildegarde gave an expressive little shake to the +basket. Rose smiled and nodded; then they hugged each other a little, +which was a foolish way they had when they were pleased. Very cautiously +Hildegarde pushed the crazy door open, and they stood in the melancholy +little hovel. All was even dirtier and more squalid than it had looked +from outside; but the girls did not mind it now, for they had an idea, +which had come perhaps to both at the same moment. Hilda looked about +for a broom, and finally found the dilapidated skeleton of one. Rose, +realizing at once that search for a duster would be fruitless, pulled a +double handful of long grass from the front yard, and the two laid about +them,--one vigorously, the other carefully and thoroughly. Dust flew +from doors and windows; the girls sneezed and coughed, but persevered, +till the little room at last began to look as if it might once have been +habitable. + +"Now you have done enough, Rosy!" cried Hildegarde. "Sit down on the +doorstep and make a posy, while I finish." + +Rose, being rather tired, obeyed. Hildegarde then looked for a +scrubbing-brush, but finding none, was obliged to give the little black +table such a cleaning as she could with the broom and bunches of grass. +Behind the house was a lilac-bush, covered with lovely fragrant clusters +of blossoms; she gathered a huge bunch of them, and putting them in a +broken pitcher with water, set them in the middle of the table. +Meanwhile Rose had found two or three peonies and some sweet-william, +and with these and some ribbon-grass had made quite a brilliant bouquet, +which was laid beside the one cracked plate which the cupboard afforded. +On this plate the sandwiches were neatly piled, and the turnovers (all +but two, which the girls ate, partly out of gratitude to Martha, but +chiefly because they were good) were laid on a cluster of green leaves. +As for the milk, that, Hildegarde declared, Rose must and should drink; +and she stood over her till she tilted the bottle back and drained the +last drop. + +"Oh, dear!" said Rose, looking sadly at the empty bottle; "I hope the +poor thing doesn't like milk. It couldn't be a child, Hildegarde, could +it? living here all alone. And anyhow he--or she--will have a better +dinner than one onion and--" But here she broke off, and uttered a low +cry of dismay. "Oh, Hilda! Hilda! look there!" + +Hildegarde turned hastily round, and then stood petrified with dismay; +for some one was looking in at the window. Pressed against the little +back window was the face of an old man, so withered and wrinkled that it +looked hardly human; only the eyes, bright and keen, were fixed upon the +girls, with what they thought was a look of anger. Masses of wild, +unkempt gray hair surrounded the face, and a fragment of old straw hat +was drawn down over the brows. Altogether it was a wild vision; and +perhaps it was not surprising that the gentle Rose was terrified, while +even Hildegarde felt decidedly uncomfortable. They stood still for a +moment, meeting helplessly the steady gaze of the sharp, fierce eyes; +then with one impulse they turned and fled,--Hildegarde half carrying +her companion in her strong arms. Half laughing, half crying, they +reached the carriage. Rose tumbled in somehow, Hildegarde flew to +unfasten the tie-rein; and the next moment they were speeding away at +quite a surprising rate, Dr. Abernethy having, for the first time in +years, received a smart touch of the whip, which filled him with +amazement and indignation. + +Neither of the girls spoke until at least a quarter of a mile lay +between them and the scene of their terror; then, as they came to the +foot of a hill, Hildegarde checked the good horse to a walk, and turned +and looked at Rose. One look,--and they both broke into fits of +laughter, and laughed and laughed as if they never would stop. + +"Oh!" cried Hildegarde, wiping the tears which were rolling down her +cheeks. "Rose! I wonder if I looked as guilty as I felt. No wonder he +glowered, if I did." + +"Of course you did," said Rose. "You were the perfect ideal of a Female +Burgler, caught with the spoons in her hand; and I--oh! my cheeks are +burning still; I feel as if I were nothing but a blush. And after all, +we _were_ breaking and entering, Hilda!" + +"But we did no harm!" said Hilda, stoutly. "I don't much care, now we +are safe out of the way. And I'm glad the poor old glowering thing will +have a good dinner for once. Rose, he must be at least a hundred! Did +you ever see anything look so old?" + +Rose shook her head meditatively. "It's dreadful to think of his living +all alone there," she said. "For he must be alone. There was only one +plate, you know, and that wretched bed. Oh, Hilda!" she added, a moment +later, "the basket! we have left the basket there. What shall we do? +Must we go back?" + +"Perish the thought!" cried Hildegarde, with a shudder half real, half +playful. "I wouldn't go back there now for the half of my kingdom. Let +me see! We will not tell Cousin Wealthy to-day--" + +"Oh, no!" cried Rose, shrinking at the bare thought. + +"Nor even to-morrow, perhaps," continued Hildegarde. "She would be +frightened, and might expect you to be ill; we will wait a day or two +before we tell her. But Martha is not nervous. We can tell her +to-morrow, and say that we will get another basket. After all, we were +doing no harm,--none in the world." + +But the best-laid plans, as we all know, "gang aft agley;" and the +girls were not to have the telling of their adventure in their own way. + +That evening, as they were sitting on the piazza after tea, they heard +Miss Wealthy's voice, saying, "Martha, there is some one coming up the +front walk,--an aged man, apparently. Will you see who it is, please? +Perhaps he wants food, for I see he has a basket." + +Hildegarde and Rose looked at each other in terror. + +"Oh, Hilda!" whispered Rose, catching her friend's hand, "it must be he! +What shall we do?" + +"Hush!" said Hildegarde. "Listen, and don't be a goose! Do? what should +he do to us? He might recite the 'Curse of Kehama,' but it isn't likely +he knows it." + +Martha, who had been reconnoitring through a crack of the window-blind, +now uttered an exclamation. "Well, of all! Mam, it's old Galusha +Pennypacker, as sure as you stand there." + +"Is it possible?" said Miss Wealthy, in a tone of great surprise. +"Martha, you _must_ be mistaken. Galusha Pennypacker coming here. Why +_should_ he come here?" + +But for once Martha was not ready to answer her mistress, for she had +gone to open the door. + +The girls listened, with clasped hands and straining ears. + +"Why, Mr. Pennypacker!" they heard Martha say. "This is never you?" + +Then a shrill, cracked voice broke in, speaking very slowly, as if +speech were an unaccustomed effort. "Is there--two gals--here?" + +"Two gals?" repeated Martha, in amazement. "What two gals?" + +"Gals!" said the old man's voice,--"one on 'em highty-tighty, +fly-away-lookin', 'n' the other kind o' 'pindlin'; drivin' your hoss, +they was." + +"Why--yes!" said Martha, more and more astonished. "What upon earth--" + +"Here's their basket!" the old man continued; "tell 'em I--relished the +victuals. Good-day t' ye!" + +Then came the sound of a stick on the steps, and of shuffling feet on +the gravel; and the next moment Miss Wealthy and Martha were gazing at +the guilty girls with faces of mute amazement and inquiry which almost +upset Hildegarde's composure. + +"It's true, Cousin Wealthy!" she said quickly. "We meant to tell you--in +a little while, when you would not be worried. We thought the house was +deserted, and I went and looked in at the window. And--it looked so +wretched, we thought we might--" + +"There was only an onion and three crackers," murmured Rose, in +deprecating parenthesis. + +"We thought we might leave part of our luncheon, for Martha had given us +such a quantity; and just when we had finished, we saw a face at the +window--oh, such a dreadful old face!--and we ran away, and forgot the +basket. So you see, Martha," she added, "it was partly your fault, for +giving us so much luncheon." + +"I see!" said Martha, chuckling, and apparently much amused. + +But Miss Wealthy looked really frightened. "My _dear_ girls," she said, +"it was a _very_ imprudent thing to do. Why, Galusha Pennypacker is half +insane, people think. A dreadful old miser, who lives in filth and +wretchedness, while he has plenty of money hidden away,--at least people +say he has. Why, it terrifies me to think of your going into that +hovel." + +"Oh! Cousin Wealthy," said Hildegarde, soothingly, "he couldn't have +hurt us, poor old thing! if he had tried. He looks at least a hundred +years old. And of course we didn't know he was a miser. But surely it +will do no harm for him to have a good dinner for once, and Martha's +turnovers ought really to have a civilizing effect upon him. Who knows? +Perhaps it may make him remember nicer ways, and he may try to do +better." + +Miss Wealthy was partly reconciled by this view of the case; but she +declared that Rose must go to bed at once, as she must be quite +exhausted. + +At this moment Martha, who was still holding the basket, gave an +exclamation of surprise. "Why," she said, "there's things in this! Did +you leave these in the basket, Miss Hilda?" + +"I? No!" cried Hildegarde, wondering. "I left nothing at all in it. +What is there?" + +All clustered eagerly round Martha, who with provoking deliberation took +out two small parcels which lay in the bottom of the basket, and looked +them carefully over before opening them. They were wrapped in dirty +scraps of brown paper. + +"Oh! there is writing on them!" cried Hildegarde. "Martha dear, _do_ +tell us what it says!" + +Martha studied the inscriptions for some minutes, and then read aloud: +"'The fly-away gal' and 'the pail gal.' Well, of all!" she cried, "it's +presents, I do believe. Here, Miss Hilda, this must be for you." + +Hildegarde opened the little parcel eagerly. It contained a small +shagreen case, which in its turn proved to contain a pair of scissors of +antique and curious form, an ivory tablet, yellow with age, a silver +bodkin, and a silver fruit-knife, all fitting neatly in their places; +the whole case closing with a spring. "It is the prettiest thing I ever +saw!" cried Hildegarde. "See, Cousin Wealthy, isn't it delightful to +think of that poor old dear--But what have you, Rose-red? You must be +the 'pail gal,' of course, though you are not pale now." + +Rose opened her parcel, and found, in a tiny box of faded morocco, an +ivory thimble exquisitely carved with minute Chinese figures. It fitted +her slender finger to perfection, and she gazed at it with great +delight, while Miss Wealthy and Martha shook their heads in amazement +and perplexity. + +"Galusha Pennypacker, with such things as these!" cried one. + +"Galusha Pennypacker making presents!" exclaimed the other. "Well, +wonders will never cease!" + +"The thimble is really beautiful!" said Miss Wealthy. "He was a +seafaring man in his youth, I remember, and he must have brought this +home from one of his voyages, perhaps fifty or sixty years ago. Dear me! +how strangely things do come about! But, my dear Rose, you really _must_ +go to bed at once, for I am sure you must be quite exhausted." + +And the delighted girls went off in triumph with their treasures, to +chatter in their rooms as only girls can chatter. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +A "STORY EVENING." + + +The next evening was chilly, and instead of sitting on the piazza, the +girls were glad to draw their chairs around Miss Wealthy's work-table +and bring out their work-baskets. Hildegarde had brought two dozen +napkins with her to hem for her mother, and Rose was knitting a soft +white cloud, which was to be a Christmas present for good Mrs. Hartley +at the farm. As for Miss Wealthy, she, as usual, was knitting gray +stockings of fine soft wool. They all fell to talking about old Galusha +Pennypacker, now pitying his misery, now wondering at the tales of his +avarice. Hildegarde took out the little scissors-case, and examined it +anew. "Do you suppose this belonged to his mother?" she asked. "You say +he never married. Or had he a sister?" + +"No, he had no sister," replied Miss Wealthy. "His mother was a very +respectable woman. I remember her, though she died when I was quite a +little girl. He had an aunt, too,--a singular woman, who used to be very +kind to me. What is it, my dear?" For Hildegarde had given a little cry +of surprise. + +"Here is a name!" cried the girl. "At least, it looks like a name; but I +cannot make it out. See, Cousin Wealthy, on the little tablet! Oh, how +interesting!" + +Miss Wealthy took the tablet, which consisted of two thin leaves of +ivory, fitting closely together. On the inside of one leaf was written +in pencil, in a tremulous hand. "Ca-ira." + +"Is it a name?" asked Rose. + +Miss Wealthy nodded. "His aunt's name," she said,--"Ca-iry[1] +Pennypacker. Yes, surely; this must have belonged to her. Dear, dear! +how strangely things come about! Aunt Ca-iry we all called her, though +she was no connection of ours. And to think of your having her +scissors-case! Now I come to remember, I used to see this in her basket +when I used to poke over her things, as I loved to do. Dear, dear!" + +"Oh, Cousin Wealthy," cried Hildegarde, "_do_ tell us about her, please! +How came she to have such a queer name? I am sure there must be some +delightful story about her." + +Miss Wealthy considered a minute, then she said: "My dear, if you will +open the fourth left-hand drawer of that chest between the windows, and +look in the farther right-hand corner of the drawer, I think you will +find a roll of paper tied with a pink ribbon." + +Hildegarde obeyed in wondering silence; and Miss Wealthy, taking the +roll, held it in her hand for a moment without speaking, which was very +trying to the girls' feelings. At last she said,-- + +"There _is_ an interesting story about Ca-iry Pennypacker, and, +curiously enough, I have it here, written down by--whom do you +think?--your mother, Hilda, my dear!" + +"My mother!" cried Hildegarde, in amazement. + +"Your mother," repeated Miss Wealthy. "You see, when Mildred was a +harum-scarum girl--" Hildegarde uttered an exclamation, and Miss Wealthy +stopped short. "Is there something you want to say, dear?" she asked +gently. "I will wait." + +The girl blushed violently. "I beg your pardon, Cousin Wealthy," she +said humbly. "Shall I go out and stand in the entry? Papa always used to +make me, when I interrupted." + +"You are rather too big for that now, my child," said the old lady, +smiling; "and I notice that you very seldom interrupt. It is better +_never_ done, however. Well, as I was saying, your mother used to make +me a great many visits in her school holidays; for she was my +god-daughter, and always very dear to me. She was very fond of hearing +stories, and I told her all the old tales I could think of,--among them +this one of Aunt Ca-iry's, which the old lady had told me herself when I +was perhaps ten years old. It had made a deep impression on me, so that +I was able to repeat it almost in her own words, in the country talk she +always used. She was not an educated woman, my dear, but one of sterling +good sense and strong character. Well, the story impressed your mother +so much that she was very anxious for me to write it down; but as I have +no gift whatever in that way, she finally wrote it herself, taking it +from my lips, as you may say,--only changing my name from Wealthy to +Dolly,--but making it appear as if the old woman herself were speaking. +Very apt at that sort of thing Mildred always was. And now, if you like, +my dears, I will read you the story." + +If they liked! Was there ever a girl who did not love a story? Gray eyes +and blue sparkled with anticipation, and there was no further danger of +interruption as Miss Wealthy, in her soft, clear voice, began to read +the story of-- + + +CA-IRY AND THE QUEEN. + + What's this you've found? Well, now! well, now! + where did you get that, little gal? Been + rummagin' in Aunt Ca-iry's bureau, hev you? + Naughty little gal! Bring it to me, honey. Why, + that little bag,--I wouldn't part with it for + gold! That was give me by a queen,--think o' + that, Dolly,--by a real live queen, 'cordin' to + her own idees,--the Queen o' Sheba. + + Tell you about her? Why, yes, I will. Bring + your little cheer here by the fire,--so; and + get your knittin'. When little gals come to + spend the day with Aunt Ca-iry they allus + brings their knittin',--don't they?--'cause + they know they won't get any story unless they + do. I can't have no idle hands round this + kitchen, 'cause Satan might git in, ye know, + and find some mischief for them to do. There! + now we're right comf'table, and I'll begin. + + You see, Dolly, I've lived alone most o' my + life, as you may say. Mother died when I was + fifteen, and Father, he couldn't stay on + without her, so he went the next year; and my + brother was settled a good way off: so ever + since I've lived here in the old brown house + alone, 'cept for the time I'm goin' to tell ye + about, when I had a boarder, and a queer one + she was. Plenty o' folks asked me to hire out + with them, or board with them, and I s'pose I + might have married, if I'd been that kind, but + I wasn't. Never could abide the thought of + havin' a man gormineerin' over me, not if he + was the lord o' the land. And I was strong, and + had a cow and some fowls, and altogether I knew + when I was well off; and after a while folks + learned to let me alone. "Queer Ca-iry," they + called me,--in your grandfather's time, + Dolly,--but now it's "Aunt Ca-iry" with the + hull country round, and everybody's very good + to the old woman. + + How did I come to have such a funny name? Well, + my father give it to me. He was a great man for + readin', my father was, and there was one book + he couldn't ever let alone, skurcely. 'T was + about the French Revolution, and it told how + the French people tried to git up a republic + like ourn. But they hadn't no sense, seemin'ly, + and some of 'em was no better nor wild beasts, + with their slaughterin', devourin' ways; so + nothin' much came of it in the end 'cept + bloodshed. + + Well, it seems they had a way of yellin' round + the streets, and shoutin' and singin', "Ca-ira! + Ca-ira!" Made a song out of it, the book said, + and sang it day in and day out. Father said it + meant "That will go!" or somethin' like that, + though I never could see any meanin' in it + myself. Anyhow, it took Father's fancy greatly, + and when I was born, nothin' would do but I + must be christened Ca-ira. So I was, and so I + stayed; and I don't know as I should have done + any better if I'd been called Susan or Jerusha. + So that's all about the name, and now we'll + come to the story. + + One day, when I was about eighteen years old, I + was takin' a walk in the woods with my dog + Bluff. I was very fond o' walkin', and so was + Bluff, and there was woods all about, twice as + much as there is now. It was a fine, clear day, + and we wandered a long way, further from home + than we often went, 'way down by Rollin' Dam + Falls. The stream was full, and the falls were + a pretty sight; and I sat lookin' at 'em, as + girls do, and pullin' wintergreen leaves. I + never smell wintergreen now without thinkin' of + that day. All of a suddent I heard Bluff bark; + and lookin' round, I saw him snuffin' and + smellin' about a steep clay bank covered with + vines and brambles. "Woodchuck!" I thought; and + I called him off, for I never let him kill + critters unless they were mischeevous, which in + the wild woods they couldn't be, of course. + But the dog wouldn't come off. He stayed there, + sniffin' and growlin', and at last I went to + see what the trouble was. + + My dear, when I lifted up those vines and + brambles, what should I see but a hole in the + bank!--a hole about two feet across, bigger + than any that a woodchuck ever made. The edges + were rubbed smooth, as if the critter that made + it was big enough to fit pretty close in + gettin' through. My first idee was that 't was + a wolf's den,--wolves were seen sometimes in + those days in the Cobbossee woods,--and I was + goin' to drop the vines and slip off as quiet + as I could, when what does that dog do but pop + into the hole right before my eyes, and go + wrigglin' through it! I called and whistled, + but 't was no use; the dog was bound to see + what was in there. + + I waited a minute, expectin' to hear the wolf + growl, and thinkin' my poor Bluff would be torn + to pieces, and yet I must go off and leave him, + or be treated the same myself. But, Dolly, + instead of a wolf's growl, I heard next minute + a sound that made me start more 'n the wolf + would ha' done,--the sound of a human voice. + Yes! out o' the bowels o' the earth, as you + may say, a voice was cryin' out, frightened and + angry-like; and then Bluff began to bark, bark! + Oh, dear! I felt every which way, child. But 't + was clear that there was only one path of duty, + and that path led through the hole; for a + fellow creature was in trouble, and 't was my + dog makin' the trouble. Down I went on my face, + and through that hole I crawled and + wriggled,--don't ask me how, for I don't know + to this day,--thinkin' of the sarpent in the + Bible all the way. + + Suddenly the hole widened, and I found myself + in a kind of cave, about five feet by six + across, but high enough for me to stand up. I + scrambled to my feet, and what should I see but + a woman,--a white woman,--sittin' on a heap o' + moose and sheep skins, and glarin' at me with + eyes like two live coals. She had driven Bluff + off, and he stood growlin' in the corner. + + For a minute we looked at each other without + sayin' anything; I didn't know what upon airth + to say. At last she spoke, quite calm, in a + deep, strange voice, almost like a man's, but + powerful sweet. + + "What seek you," she said, "slave?" + + Well, that was a queer beginnin', you see, + Dolly, and didn't help me much. But I managed + to say, "My dog come in, and I followed him--to + see what he was barkin' at." + + "He was barkin' at me," said the woman. "Bow + down before me, slave! I am the Queen!" + + And she made a sign with her hand, so + commandin'-like that I made a bow, the best way + I could. But, of course, I saw then that the + poor creature was out of her mind, and I + thought 't would be best to humor her, seein' + as I had come in without an invitation, as you + may say. + + "Do you--do you live here, ma'am?" I asked, + very polite. + + "Your Majesty!" says she, holdin' up her head, + and lookin' at me as if I was dirt under her + feet. + + "Do you live here, your Majesty?" I asked + again. + + "I am stayin' here," she said. "I am waitin' + for the King, who is comin' for me soon. You + did not meet him, slave, on your way hither?" + + "What king was your Majesty meanin'?" says I. + + "King Solomon, of course!" said she. "For what + lesser king should the Queen of Sheba wait?" + + "To be sure!" says I. "No, ma'am,--your + Majesty, I mean,--I didn't meet King Solomon. I + should think you might find a more likely place + to wait for him in than this cave. A king + wouldn't be very likely to find his way in + here, would he?" + + She looked round with a proud kind o' look. + "The chamber is small," she said, "but richly + furnished,--richly furnished. You may observe, + slave, that the walls are lined with virgin + gold." + + She waved her hand, and I looked round too at + the yellow clay walls and ceilin'. You never + could think of such a place, Dolly, unless + you'd ha' seen it. However that poor creature + had fixed it up so, no mortal will ever know, I + expect. There was a fireplace in one corner, + and a hole in the roof over it. I found out + arterwards that the smoke went out through a + hollow tree that grew right over the cave. + There was a fryin'-pan, and some meal in a kind + o' bucket made o' birch-bark, some roots, and a + few apples. All round the sides she'd stuck + alder-berries and flowers and pine-tassels, and + I don't know what not. There was nothin' like a + cheer or table, nothin' but the heap o' skins + she was settin' on,--that was bed and sofy and + everything else for her, I reckon. + + And she herself--oh, dear! it makes me want to + laugh and cry, both together, to think _how_ + that unfortinit creature was rigged up. She had + a sheepskin over her shoulders, tied round her + neck, with the wool outside. On her head was a + crown o' birch-bark, cut into p'ints like the + crowns in pictures, and stained yeller with the + yeller clay,--I suppose she thought it was + gold,--and her long black hair was stuck full + o' berries and leaves and things. Under the + sheepskin she had just nothin' but rags,--such + rags as you never seed in all your days, Dolly, + your mother bein' the tidy body she is. And + moccasins on her feet,--no stockin's; that + finished her Majesty's dress. Well, poor soul! + and she as proud and contented as you please, + fancyin' herself all gold and di'monds. + + I made up my mind pretty quick what was the + right thing for me to do; and I said, as + soothin' as I could,-- + + "Your Majesty, I don't reelly advise you to + wait here no longer for King Solomon. I never + seed no kings round these woods,--it's out o' + the line o' kings, as you may say,--and I don't + think he'd be likely to find you out, even if + he should stroll down to take a look at the + falls, same as I did. Haven't you no + other--palace, that's a little more on the + travelled road, where he'd be likely to pass?" + + "No," she said, kind o' mournful, and shakin' + her head,--"no, slave. I had once, but it was + taken from me." + + "If you don't mind my bein' so bold," I said, + "where was you stayin' before you come here?" + + "With devils!" she said, so fierce and sudden + that Bluff and I both jumped. "Speak not of + them, lest my wrath descend upon you." + + This wasn't very encouragin'; but I wasn't a + bit frightened, and I set to work again, + talkin' and arguin', and kind o' hintin' that + there'd been some kings seen round the place + where I lived. That weren't true, o' course, + and I knew I was wrong, Dolly, to mislead the + poor creature, even if 't was for her good; but + I quieted my conscience by thinkin' that 't was + true in one way, for Hezekiah King and his nine + children lived not more 'n a mile from my + house. + + Well, to make a long story short, I e'en + persuaded the Queen o' Sheba to come home with + me, and stay at my house till King Solomon + turned up. She didn't much relish the idee of + staying with a slave,--as she would have it I + was,--but I told her I didn't work for no one + but myself, and I wasn't no common kind o' + slave at all; so at last she give in, poor + soul, and followed me as meek as a lamb through + the hole, draggin' her big moose-skin--which + was her coronation-robe, she said, and she + couldn't leave it behind--after her, and Bluff + growlin' at her heels like all possessed. + + Well, I got her home, and gave her some supper, + and set her in a cheer; and you never in all + your life see any one so pleased. She looked, + and looked, and you'd ha' thought this kitchen + was Marble Halls like them in the song. It + _did_ look cheerful and pleasant, but much the + same as it does now, after sixty years, little + Dolly. And if you'll believe it, it's this very + arm-cheer as I'm sittin' in now, that the Queen + o' Sheba sot in. It had a flowered chintz cover + then, new and bright. Well, she sat back at + last, and drew a long breath. + + "You have done well, faithful slave!" she said. + "This is my own palace that you have brought me + to. I know it well,--well; and this is my + throne, from which I shall judge the people + till the King comes." + + This is what the boys would call "rather cool;" + but I only said, "Yes, your Majesty, you shall + judge every one there is to judge,"--which was + me and Bluff, and Crummy the cow, and ten + fowls, and the pig. She was just as pleasant + and condescendin' as could be all the evenin', + and when I put her to bed in the fourposter in + the spare room, she praised me again, and said + that when the King came she would give me a + carcanet of rubies, whatever that is. + + Just as soon as she was asleep, the first thing + that I did was to open the stove and put her + rags in, piece by piece, till they was all + burnt up. The moose-skin, which was a good one, + I hung out on the line to air. Then I brought + out some clothes of Mother's that I'd kep' laid + away,--a good calico dress and some + underclothing, all nice and fresh,--and laid + them over the back of a cheer by her bed. It + seemed kind o' strange to go to bed with a + ravin' lunatic, as you may say, in the next + room; but I knew I was doin' right, and that + was all there was to it. The Lord would see to + the rest, I thought. + + Next mornin' I was up bright and early, and + soon as I'd made the fire and tidied up and got + breakfast under way, I went in to see how her + Majesty was. She was wide awake, sittin' up in + bed, and lookin' round her as wild as a hawk. + Seemed as if she was just goin' to spring out + o' bed; but when she saw me, she quieted down, + and when I spoke easy and soothin' like, and + asked her how she'd slept, she answered + pleasant enough. + + "But where are my robes?" said she, pointin' to + the clothes I'd laid out. "Those are not my + robes." + + "They's new robes," I said, quite bold. "The + old ones had to be taken away, your Majesty. + They weren't fit for you to wear, really,--all + but the coronation robe; and that's hangin' on + the line, to--to take the wrinkles out." + + Well, I had a hard fight over the clothes; she + couldn't make up her mind nohow to put 'em on. + But at last I had an idee. "Don't you know," I + said, "the Bible says 'The King's Daughter is + all radiant within, in raiment of wrought + needlework'? Well, this is wrought needlework, + every bit of it." + + I showed her the seams and the stitches; and, + my dear, she put it on without another word, + and was as pleased as Punch when she was + dressed up all neat and clean. Then I brushed + her hair out,--lovely hair it was, comin' down + below her knees, and thick enough for a cloak, + but matted and tangled so 't was a sight to + behold,--and braided it, and put it up on top + of her head like a sort o' crown, and I tell + you she looked like a queen, if ever anybody + did. She fretted a little for her birch-bark + crown, but I told her how Scripture said a + woman's glory was her hair, and that quieted + her at once. Poor soul! she was real good and + pious, and she'd listen to Scripture readin' by + the hour; but I allus had to wind up with + somethin' about King Solomon. + + Well, Dolly, the Queen o' Sheba stayed with me + (I must make my story short, Honey, for your + ma'll be comin' for ye soon now) three years; + and I will say that they was happy years for + both of us. Not yourself could be more biddable + than that poor crazy Queen was, once she got + wonted to me and the place. At first she was + inclined to wander off, a-lookin' for the King; + but bimeby she got into the way of occupyin' + herself, spinnin'--she was a beautiful + spinner, and when I told her 't was Scriptural, + I could hardly get her away from the wheel--and + trimmin' the house up with flowers, and playin' + with Bluff, for all the world like a child. And + in the evenin's,--well, there! she'd sit on her + throne and tell stories about her kingdom, and + her gold and spices, and myrrh and frankincense + and things, and all the great things she was + goin' to do for her faithful slave,--that was + me, ye know; she never would call me anything + else,--till it all seemed just as good as true. + _'T was_ true to her; and if 't had been really + true for me, I shouldn't ha' been half so well + off as in my own sp'ere; so 't was all right. + + My dear, my poor Queen might have been with me + to this day, if it hadn't been for the + meddlesomeness of men. I've heerd talk o' women + meddling, and very likely they may, when they + live along o' men; but it don't begin with + women, nor yet end with 'em. One day I'd been + out 'tendin' to the cow, and as I was comin' + back I heerd screams and shrieks, and a man's + voice talkin' loud. You may believe I run, + Dolly, as fast as run I could; and when I came + to the kitchen there was Hezekiah King and a + strange man standin' and talkin' to the Queen. + She was all in a heap behind the big chair, + poor soul, tremblin' like a leaf, and her eyes + glarin' like they did the fust time I see her; + and she didn't say a word, only scream, like a + panther in a trap, every minute or two. + + I steps before her, and "What's this?" says I, + short enough. + + "Mornin', Ca-iry," says Hezekiah, smilin' his + greasy smile, that allus _did_ make me want to + slap his face. "This is Mr. Clamp, from + Coptown. Make ye acquainted with Miss Ca-iry + Pennypacker, Mr. Clamp. I met up with Mr. Clamp + yesterday, Ca-iry, and I was tellin' him about + this demented creatur as you've been shelterin' + at your own expense the last three years, as + the hull neighborhood says it's a shame. And + lo! how myster'ous is the ways o' Providence! + Mr. Clamp is sup'n'tendent o' the Poor Farm + down to Coptown, and he says this woman is a + crazy pauper as he has had in keer for six + year, ever since she lost her wits along o' her + husband bein' drownded. She run away three year + ago last spring, and he ain't heard nothin' of + her till yisterday, when he just chanced to + meet up with me. So now he's come as in dooty + bound, she belongin' to the deestrick o' + Coptown, to take her off your hands, and thank + ye for--" + + He hadn't no time to say more. I took him by + the shoulders,--I was mortal strong in those + days, Dolly; there wasn't a man within ten + miles but I could ha' licked him if he'd been + wuth it,--and shot him out o' the door like a + sack o' flour. Then I took the other man, who + was standin' with his mouth open, for all the + world like a codfish, and shot him out arter + him. He tumbled against Hezekiah, and they both + went down together, and sat there and looked at + me with their mouths open. + + "You go home," says I, "and take care o' + yourselves, if you know how. When I want you or + the like o' you, I'll send for you. _Scat!_" + And I shut the door and bolted it, b'ilin' with + rage, and came back to my poor Queen. + + She was down on the floor, all huddled up in a + corner, moanin' and moanin', like a dumb beast + that has a death wound. I lifted her up, and + tried to soothe and quiet her,--she was + tremblin' all over,--but 't was hard work. Not + a word could I get out of her but "Devil! + Devil!" and then "Solomon!" over and over + again. I brought the Bible, and read her about + the Temple, and the knops and the flowers, and + the purple, and the gold dishes, till she was + quiet again; and then I put her to bed, poor + soul! though 't was only six o'clock, and sat + and sang "Jerusalem the Golden" till she + dropped off to sleep. I was b'ilin' mad still, + and besides I was afraid she'd have a fit o' + sickness, or turn ravin', after the fright, so + I didn't sleep much myself that night. Towards + mornin', however, I dropped off, and must have + slept sound; for when I woke it was seven + o'clock, the sun was up high, the door was + swingin' open, and the Queen o' Sheba was gone. + + Don't ask me, little Dolly, how I felt, when I + found that poor creature was nowhere on the + place. I knew where to go, though. Something + told me, plain as words; and Bluff and I, we + made a bee-line for the Rollin' Dam woods. The + dog found her first. She had tried to get into + her hole, but the earth had caved in over it; + so she had laid down beside it, on the damp + ground, in her nightgown. Oh, dear! oh, dear! + How long she'd been there, nobody will ever + know. She was in a kind o' swoon, and I had to + carry her most o' the way, however I managed to + do it; but I was mortal strong in those days, + and she was slight and light, for all her bein' + tall. When I got her home and laid her in her + bed, I knowed she'd never leave it; and sure + enough, before night she was in a ragin' fever. + A week it lasted; and when it began to go down, + her life went with it. My poor Queen! she was + real gentle when the fiery heat was gone. She + lay there like a child, so weak and white. One + night, when I'd been singin' to her a spell, + she took this little bag from her neck, where + she'd allus worn it, under her clothes, and + giv' it to me. + + "Faithful slave," she said,--she couldn't speak + above a whisper,--"King Solomon is comin' for + me to-night. I have had a message from him. I + leave you this as a token of my love and + gratitude. It is the Great Talisman, more + precious than gold or gems. Open it when I am + gone. And now, good slave, kiss me, for I would + sleep awhile." + + I kissed my poor dear, and she dozed off + peaceful and happy. But all of a sudden she + opened her eyes with a start, and sat up in the + bed. + + "Solomon!" she cried, and held out her arms + wide. "Solomon, my King!" and then fell back on + the piller, dead. + + There, little Dolly! don't you cry, dear! 'T + was the best thing for the poor thing. I opened + the bag, when it was all over, and what do you + think I found? A newspaper slip, sayin', "Lost + at sea, on March 2, 18--, Solomon Marshall, + twenty-seven years," and a lock o' dark-brown + hair. Them was the Great Talisman. But if true + love and faith can make a thing holy, this poor + little bag is holy, and as such I've kept it. + + There's your ma comin', Dolly. Put on your + bonnet, Honey, quick! And see here, dear! you + needn't tell her nothin' I said about Hezekiah + King, I clean forgot he was your grandfather. + +FOOTNOTE: + +[1] Pronounced Kay-iry. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +FLOWER-DAY. + + +"Cousin Wealthy," said Hildegarde at breakfast the next morning, "may I +tell you what it was that made me so rude as to interrupt you last +night?" + +"Certainly, my dear," said Miss Wealthy; "you may tell me, and then you +may forget the little accident, as I had already done." + +"Well," said Hildegarde, "you spoke of the time when Mamma was a +'harum-scarum girl;' and the idea of her ever having been anything of +the sort was so utterly amazing that--that was why I cried out. Is it +possible that Mammy was not always quiet and blessed and peaceful?" + +"Mildred!" exclaimed Miss Wealthy. "Mildred peaceful! My _dear_ Hilda!" + +An impressive pause followed, and Hildegarde's eyes began to twinkle. +"Tell us!" she murmured, in a tone that would have persuaded an oyster +to open his shell. Then she stroked Miss Wealthy's arm gently, and was +silent, for she saw that speech was coming in due time. + +Miss Wealthy looked at her teacup, and shook her head slowly, smiled, +and then sighed. "Mildred!" she said again. "My dear, your mother is now +forty years old, and I am seventy. When she came to visit me for the +first time, _I_ was forty years old, and she was ten. She had on, when +she arrived, a gray stuff frock, trimmed with many rows of narrow green +braid, and a little gray straw bonnet, with rows of quilled satin +ribbon, green and pink." The girls exchanged glances of horror and +amazement at the thought of this headgear, but made no sound. "I shall +never forget that bonnet," continued Miss Wealthy, pensively, "nor that +dress. In getting out of the carriage her skirt caught on the step, and +part of a row of braid was ripped; this made a loop, in which she caught +her foot, and tumbled headlong to the ground. I mended it in the +evening, after she was in bed, as it was the frock she was to wear every +morning. My dears, I mended that frock every day for a month. It is the +truth! the braid caught on everything,--on latches, on brambles, on +pump-handles, on posts, on chairs. There was always a loop of it +hanging, and the child was always putting her foot through it and +tumbling down. She never cried, though sometimes, when she fell +downstairs, she must have hurt herself. A very brave little girl she +was. At last I took all the braid off, and then things went a little +better." + +Miss Wealthy paused to sip her coffee, and Hildegarde tried not to look +as if she begrudged her the sip. "Then," she went on, "Mildred was +always running away,--not intentionally, you understand, but just going +off and forgetting to come back. Once--dear, dear! it gives me a turn to +think of it!--she had been reading 'Neighbor Jackwood,' and was much +delighted with the idea of the heroine's hiding in the haystack to +escape her cruel pursuers. So she went out to the great haystack in the +barnyard, pulled out a quantity of hay, crept into the hole, and found +it so comfortable that she fell fast asleep. You may imagine, my dears, +what my feelings were when dinner-time came, and Mildred was not to be +found. The house was searched from garret to cellar. Martha and +I--Martha had just come to me then--went down to the wharf and through +the orchard and round by the pasture, calling and calling, till our +throats were sore. At last, as no trace of the child could be found, I +made up my mind that she must have wandered away into the woods and got +lost. It was a terrible thought, my dears! I called Enoch, the man, and +bade him saddle the horse and ride round to call out the neighbors, that +they might all search together. As he was leading the horse out, he +noticed a quantity of hay on the ground, and wondered how it had come +there. Coming nearer, he saw the hole in the stack, looked in, +and--there was the child, fast asleep!" + +"Oh! naughty little mother!" cried Hildegarde. "What did you do to her, +Cousin Wealthy?" + +"Nothing, my dear," replied the good lady. "I was quite ill for several +days from the fright, and that was enough punishment for the poor child. +She never _meant_ to be naughty, you know. But my heart was in my mouth +all the time. Once, coming home from a walk, I heard a cheery little +voice crying, 'Cousin Wealthy! Cousin! see where I am!' I looked up. +Hilda, she was sitting on the ridge-pole of the house, waving her bonnet +by a loop of the pink quilled ribbon,--it was almost as bad as the green +braid about coming off,--and smiling like a cherub. 'I came through the +skylight,' she said, 'and the air up here is _so_ fresh and nice! I wish +you would come up, Cousin!' + +"Another time--oh, that was the worst time of all! I really thought I +should die that time." Miss Wealthy paused, and shook her head. + +"Oh, do go on, dear!" cried Hildegarde; "unless you are tired, that is. +It is so delightful!" + +"It was anything but delightful for me, my dear, I can assure you," +rejoined Miss Wealthy. "This happened several years later, when Mildred +was thirteen or fourteen. She came to me for a winter visit, and I was +delighted to find how womanly she had grown. We had a great deal of bad +weather, and she was with me in the house a good deal, and was most +sweet and helpful; and as I did not go out much, I did not see what she +did out of doors, and she _always_ came home in time for dinner and tea. +Well, one day--it was in March, and the river was just breaking up, as +we had had some mild weather--the minister came to see me, and I began +to tell him about Mildred, and how she had developed, and how much +comfort I took in her womanly ways. He was sitting on the sofa, from +which, you know, one can see the river very well. Suddenly he said, +'Dear me! what is that? Some one on the river at this time! Very +imprudent! Very--' Then he broke off short, and gave me a strange look. +I sprang up and went to the window. What did I see, my dear girls? The +river was full of great cakes of ice, all pressed and jumbled together; +the current was running very swiftly; and there, in the middle of the +river, jumping from one cake to another like a chamois, or some such +wild creature, was Mildred Bond." + +"Oh!" cried Rose, "how dreadful! Dear Miss Bond, what did you do?" + +Hildegarde was silent. It was certainly very naughty, she thought; but +oh, what fun it must have been! + +"Fortunately," said Miss Wealthy, "I became quite faint at the sight. +Fortunately, I say; for I might have screamed and startled the child, +and made her lose her footing. As it was, the minister went and called +Martha, and she, like the sensible girl she is, simply blew the +dinner-horn as loud as she possibly could. It was the middle of the +afternoon; but as she rightly conjectured, the sound, without startling +Mildred, gave her to understand that she was wanted. The minister +watched her making her way to the shore, leaping the dark spaces of +rushing water between the cakes, apparently as unconcerned as if she +were walking along the highway; and when he saw her safe on shore, he +was very glad to sit down and drink a glass of the wine that Martha had +brought to revive me. 'My dear madam,' he said,--I was lying on the sofa +in dreadful suspense, and could not trust myself to look,--'the young +lady is safe on the bank, and will be here in a moment. I fear she is +not so sedate as you fancied; and as she is too old to be spanked and +put to bed, I should recommend your sending her home by the coach +to-morrow morning. That girl, madam, needs the curb, and you have been +guiding her with the snaffle.' He was very fond of horses, good man, +and always drove a good one himself." + +"And did you send her home?" asked Hildegarde, anxiously, thinking what +a dreadful thing it would be to be sent back in disgrace. + +"Oh, no!" said Miss Wealthy, "I could not do that, of course. Mildred +was my god-child, and I loved her dearly. But she was not allowed to see +me for twenty-four hours, and I fancy those were very sad hours for her. +Dear Mildred! that was her last prank; for the next time she came here +she was a woman grown, and all the hoyden ways had been put off like a +garment. And now, dears," added Miss Wealthy, rising, "we must let +Martha take these dishes, or she will be late with her work, and that +always distresses her extremely." + +They went into the parlor, and Hildegarde, as she patted and "plumped" +the cushions of the old lady's chair, reminded her that she had promised +them some work for the morning, but had not told them what it was. + +"True!" said Miss Wealthy. "You are right, dear. This is my Flower-day. +I send flowers once a week to the sick children in the hospital at +Fairtown, and I thought you might like to pick them and make up the +nosegays." + +"Oh, how delightful that will be!" cried Hildegarde. "And is that what +you call work, Cousin Wealthy? I call it play, and the best kind. We +must go at once, so as to have them all picked before the sun is hot. +Come, Rosebud!" + +The girls put on their broad-brimmed hats and went out into the garden, +which was still cool and dewy. Jeremiah was there, of course, with his +wheelbarrow; and as they stood looking about them, Martha appeared with +a tray in one hand and a large shallow tin box in the other. Waving the +tray as a signal to the girls to follow, she led the way to a shady +corner, where, under a drooping laburnum-tree, was a table and a rustic +seat. She set the tray and box on the table, and then, diving into her +capacious pocket, produced a ball of string, two pairs of +flower-scissors, and a roll of tissue paper. + +"There!" she said, in a tone of satisfaction, "I think that's all. +Pretty work you'll find it, Miss Hilda, and it's right glad I am to have +you do it; for it is too much for Miss Bond, stooping over the beds, so +it is. But do it she will; and I almost think she hardly liked to give +it up, even to you." + +"Indeed, I don't wonder!" said Hildegarde. "There cannot be anything +else so pleasant to do. And thank you, Martha, for making everything so +comfortable for us. You are a dear, as I may have said before." + +Martha chuckled and withdrew, after telling the girls that the flowers +must be ready in an hour. + +"Now, Rose," said Hildegarde, "you will sit there and arrange the pretty +dears as I bring them to you. The question is now, where to begin. I +never, in all my life, saw so many flowers!" + +"Begin with those that will not crush easily," said Rose, "and I will +lay them at the bottom. Some of those splendid sweet-williams over +there, and mignonette, and calendula, and sweet alyssum, and--" + +"Oh, certainly!" cried Hildegarde. "All at once, of course, picking with +all my hundred hands at the same moment. Couldn't you name a few more, +Miss?" + +"I beg pardon!" said Rose, laughing. "I will confine my attention to the +laburnum here. 'Allee same,' I don't believe you see that beautiful +mourning-bride behind you." + +"Why mourning, and why bride?" asked Hildegarde, plucking some of the +dark, rich blossoms. "It doesn't strike me as a melancholy flower." + +"I don't know!" said Rose. "I used to play that she was a princess, and +so wore crimson instead of black for mourning. She is so beautiful, it +is a pity she has no fragrance. She is of the teasel family, you know." + +"Lady Teazle?" asked Hildegarde, laughing. + +"A different branch!" replied Rose, "but just as prickly. The fuller's +teasel,--do you know about it, dear?" + +"No, Miss Encyclopaedia, I do not!" replied Hildegarde, with some +asperity. "You know I _never_ know anything of that kind; tell me about +it!" + +"Well, it is very curious," said Rose, taking the great bunch of +mourning-bride that her friend handed her, and separating the flowers +daintily. "The flower-heads of this teasel, when they are dried, are +covered with sharp curved hooks, and are used to raise the nap on +woollen cloth. No machine or instrument that can be invented does it +half so well as this dead and withered blossom. Isn't that interesting?" + +"Very!" said Hildegarde. "Oh, dear! oh, dear!" + +"What _is_ the matter?" cried Rose, in alarm. "Has something stung you? +Let me--" + +"Oh, no!" said Hildegarde, quickly. "I was only thinking of the +appalling number of things there are to know. They overwhelm me! They +bury me! A mountain weighs me down, and on its top grows a--a teasel. +Why, I never heard of the thing! I am not sure that I am clear what a +fuller is, except that his earth is advertised in the Pears' +soap-boxes." + +They both laughed at this, and then Hildegarde bent with renewed energy +over a bed of feathered pinks of all shades of crimson and rose-color. + +"A mountain!" said Rose, slowly and thoughtfully, as she laid the +blossoms together and tied them up in small posies. "Yes, Hilda, so it +is! but a mountain to climb, not to be buried under. To think that we +can go on climbing, learning, all our lives, and always with higher and +higher peaks above us, soaring up and up,--oh, it is glorious! What +might be the matter with you to-day, my lamb?" she added; for Hildegarde +groaned, and plunged her face into a great white lily, withdrawing it to +show a nose powdered with virgin gold. "Does your head ache?" + +"I think the sturgeon is at the bottom of it," was the reply. "I have +not yet recovered fully from the humiliation of having been so +frightened by a sturgeon, when I had been brought up, so to speak, on +the 'Culprit Fay.' I have eaten caviare too," she added +gloomily,--"odious stuff!" + +"But, my _dear_ Hilda!" cried Rose, in amused perplexity, "this is too +absurd. Why shouldn't one be frightened at a monstrous creature leaping +out of the water just before one's nose, and how should you know he was +a sturgeon? You couldn't expect him to say 'I am a sturgeon!' or to +carry a placard hung round his neck, with 'Fresh Caviare!' on it." +Hildegarde laughed. "You remind me," added Rose, "that my own ignorance +list is getting pretty long. Get me some sweet-peas, that's a dear; and +I can ask you the things while you are picking them." Hildegarde moved +to the long rows of sweet-peas, which grew near the laburnum bower; and +Rose drew a little brown note-book from her pocket, and laid it open on +the table beside her. "What is 'Marlowe's mighty line'?" she demanded +bravely. "I keep coming across the quotation in different things, and I +don't know who Marlowe was. Yet you see I am cheerful." + +"Kit Marlowe!" said Hildegarde. "Poor Kit! he was a great dramatist; the +next greatest after Shakspeare, I think,--at least, well, leaving out +the Greeks, you know. He was a year younger than Shakspeare, and died +when he was only twenty-eight, killed in a tavern brawl." + +"Oh, how dreadful!" cried gentle Rose. "Then he had only begun to +write." + +"Oh, no!" said Hildegarde. "He had written a great deal,--'Faustus' and +'Edward II.,' and 'Tamburlaine,' and--oh! I don't know all. But one +thing of his _you_ know, 'The Passionate Shepherd,'--'Come live with me +and be my love;' you remember?" + +"Oh!" cried Rose. "Did he write that? I love him, then." + +"And so many, many lovely things!" continued Hildegarde, warming to her +subject, and snipping sweet-peas vigorously. "Mamma has read me a good +deal here and there,--all of 'Edward II.,' and bits from 'Faustus.' +There is one place, where he sees Helen--oh, I must remember it!-- + + "'Was this the face that launched a thousand ships, + And burnt the topless towers of Ilium?' + +Isn't that full of pictures? I see them! I see the ships, and the white, +royal city, and the beautiful, beautiful face looking down from a tower +window." + +Both girls were silent a moment; then Rose asked timidly, "And who spoke +of the 'mighty line,' dear? It must have been another great poet. Only +three words, and such a roll and ring and brightness in them." + +"Oh! Ben Jonson!" said Hildegarde. "He was another great dramatist, you +know; a little younger, but of the same time with Shakspeare and +Marlowe. He lived to be quite old, and he wrote a very famous poem on +Shakspeare, 'all full of quotations,' as somebody said about 'Hamlet.' +It is in that that he says 'Marlowe's mighty line,' and 'Sweet Swan of +Avon,' and 'Soul of the Age,' and all sorts of pleasant things. So nice +of him!" + +"And--and was he an ancestor of Dr. Samuel's?" asked Rose, humbly. + +"Why, darling, you are really quite ignorant!" cried Hildegarde, +laughing. "How delightful to find things that you don't know! No, he had +no _h_ in his name,--at least, it had been left out; but he came +originally from the Johnstones of Annandale. Think of it! he may have +been a cousin of Jock Johnstone the Tinkler, without knowing it. Well, +his father died when he was little, and his mother married a +brick-layer; and Ben used to carry hods of mortar up ladders,--oh me! +what a strange world it is! By-and-by he was made Laureate,--the first +Laureate,--and he was very great and glorious, and wrote masques and +plays and poems, and quarrelled with Inigo Jones--no! I can't stop to +tell you who he was," seeing the question in Rose's eyes,--"and grew +very fat. But when he was old they neglected him, poor dear! and when he +died he was buried standing up straight, in Westminster Abbey; and his +friend Jack Young paid a workman eighteenpence to carve on a stone 'O +Rare Ben Jonson!' and there it is to this day." + +She paused for breath; but Rose said nothing, seeing that more was +coming. "But the best of all," continued Hildegarde, "was his visit to +Drummond of Hawthornden. Oh, Rose, that was so delightful!" + +"Tell me about it!" said Rose, softly. "Not that I know who _he_ was; +but his name is a poem in itself." + +"Isn't it?" cried Hildegarde. "He was a poet too, a Scottish poet, +living in a wonderful old house--" + +"Not 'caverned Hawthornden,' in 'Lovely Rosabelle'?" cried Rose, her +eyes lighting up with new interest. + +"Yes!" replied Hildegarde, "just that. Do you know why it is 'caverned'? +That must be another story. Remind me to tell you when we are doing our +hair to-night. But now you must hear about Ben. Well, he went on a +walking tour to Scotland, and one of his first visits was to William +Drummond, with whom he had corresponded a good deal. Drummond was +sitting under his great sycamore-tree, waiting for him, and at last he +saw a great ponderous figure coming down the avenue, flourishing a huge +walking-stick. Of course he knew who it was; so he went forward to meet +him, and called out, 'Welcome, welcome, royal Ben!' 'Thank ye, thank ye, +Hawthornden!' answered Jonson; and then they both laughed and were +friends at once." + +"Hildegarde, where do you find all these wonderful things?" cried Rose, +in amazement. "That is delightful, enchanting. And for you to call +yourself ignorant! Oh!" + +"There is a life of Drummond at home," said Hildegarde, simply. "Of +course one reads lovely things,--there is no merit in that; and the +teasel still flaunts. But I _do_ feel better. That is just my baseness, +to be glad when you don't know things, you dearest! But do just look at +these sweet-peas! I have picked all these,--pecks! bushels!--and there +are as many as ever. Don't you think we have enough flowers, Rosy?" + +"I do indeed!" answered Rose. "Enough for a hundred children at least. +Besides, it must be time for them to go. The lovely things! Think of all +the pleasure they will give! A sick child, and a bunch of flowers like +these!" She took up a posy of velvet pansies and sweet-peas, set round +with mignonette, and put it lovingly to her lips. "I remember--" She +paused, and sighed, and then smiled. + +"Yes, dear!" said Hildegarde, interrogatively. "The house where you were +born?" + +[Illustration: "'DON'T YOU THINK WE HAVE ENOUGH FLOWERS, ROSY?'"] + +"One day I was in dreadful pain," said Rose,--"pain that seemed as if it +would never end,--and a little child from a neighbor's house brought a +bunch of Ragged Robin, and laid it on my pillow, and said, 'Poor +Pinky! make she better!' I think I have never loved any other flower +quite so much as Ragged Robin, since then. It is the only one I miss +here. Do you want to hear the little rhyme I made about it, when I was +old enough?" + +Hildegarde answered by sitting down on the arm of the rustic seat, and +throwing her arm round her friend's shoulder in her favorite fashion. +"Such a pleasant Rosebud!" she murmured. "Tell now!" + +And Rose told about-- + + +RAGGED ROBIN. + + + O Robin, ragged Robin, + That stands beside the door, + The sweetheart of the country child, + The flower of the poor, + + I love to see your cheery face, + Your straggling bravery; + Than many a stately garden bloom + You're dearer far to me. + + For you it needs no sheltered nook, + No well-kept flower-bed; + By cottage porch, by roadside ditch, + You raise your honest head. + + The small hedge-sparrow knows you well, + The blackbird is your friend; + With clustering bees and butterflies + Your pink-fringed blossoms bend. + + O Robin, ragged Robin, + The dearest flower that grows, + Why don't you patch your tattered cloak? + Why don't you mend your hose? + + Would you not like to prank it there + Within the border bright, + Among the roses and the pinks, + A courtly dame's delight? + + "Ah no!" says jolly Robin, + "'T would never do for me; + The friend of bird and butterfly, + Like them I must be free. + + "The garden is for stately folk, + The lily and the rose; + They'd scorn my coat of ragged pink, + Would flout my broken hose. + + "Then let me bloom in wayside ditch, + And by the cottage door, + The sweetheart of the country child, + The flower of the poor." + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +BROKEN FLOWERS. + + +Miss Wealthy was sitting on the back piazza, crocheting a tidy. The +stitch was a new one, and quite complicated, and her whole mind was bent +upon it. "One, two, purl, chain, slip; one, two, purl"--when suddenly +descended upon her a whirlwind, a vision of sparkling eyes and +"tempestuous petticoat," crying, "_Please_, Cousin Wealthy, may I go +with Jeremiah? The wagon is all ready. Mayn't I go? Oh, _please_ say +'yes'!" + +Miss Wealthy started so violently that the crochet-hook fell from her +hands. "My _dear_ Hilda!" she said plaintively, "you quite take my +breath away. I--really, my dear, I don't know what to say. Where do you +want to go?" + +"With Jeremiah, to Fairtown, with the flowers--to see the children!" +cried Hildegarde, still too much out of breath to speak connectedly, but +dropping on one knee beside the old lady, and stroking her soft hand +apologetically. "He says he will take care of me; and Rose has a long +letter to write, and I shall be back in time for dinner. Dear, nice, +pretty, sweet, bewitching Cousin Wealthy, may I go?" + +Miss Wealthy was still bewildered. "Why, my dear," she said +hesitatingly. "Yes--you may go, certainly--if you are quite sure--" + +But Hildegarde waited for no "ifs." She whirled upstairs, flew out of +her pink gingham and into a sober dark blue one, exchanged her garden +hat for a blue "sailor," whirled downstairs again, kissed Rose on both +cheeks, dropped another kiss on Miss Wealthy's cap, and was in the wagon +and out of sight round the corner before any one with moderately +deliberate enunciation could have said "Jack Robinson." + +Miss Wealthy dropped back in her chair, and drew a long, fluttering +breath. She looked flushed and worried, and put her hand nervously up to +the pansy brooch. Seeing this, Rose came quietly, picked up the +crochet-hook, and sat down to admire the work, and wonder if she could +learn the stitch. "Perhaps some time you would show it to me, dear Miss +Bond," she said; "and now may I read you that article on +window-gardening that you said you would like to hear?" + +So Rose read, in her low, even tones, smooth and pleasant as the +rippling of water; and Miss Wealthy's brow grew calm again, and the +flush passed away, and her thoughts passed pleasantly from "one, two, +purl, slip," to gloxinias and cyclamen, and back again; till at length, +the day being warm, she fell asleep, which was exactly what the wily +Rose meant her to do. + +Meantime Hildegarde was speeding along toward the station, seated beside +Jeremiah in the green wagon, with the box of flowers stowed safely under +the seat. She was in high spirits, and determined to enjoy every moment +of her "escapade," as she called it. Jeremiah surveyed her bright face +with chastened melancholy. + +"Reckon you're in for a junket," he said kindly. "Quite a head o' steam +you carry. 'T'll do ye good to work it off some." + +"Yes!" cried Hildegarde. "It is a regular frolic, isn't it, Jeremiah? +How beautiful everything looks! What a perfection of a day it is!" + +"Fine hayin' weather!" Jeremiah assented. "We sh'll begin to-morrow, I +calc'late. Pleasant, hayin' time is. Now, thar's a field!" He pointed +with his whip to a broad meadow all blue-green with waving timothy, and +sighed, and shook his head. + +"Isn't it a good field?" asked Hildegarde, innocently. + +"Best lot on the place!" replied the prophet, with melancholy +enthusiasm. "Not many lots like that in _this_ neighborhood! There's a +power o' grass there. Well, sirs! grass must be cut, and hay must be +eat,--there's no gainsayin' that,--'in the sweat o' thy brow,' ye +understand; but still there's some enj'yment in it." + +Hildegarde could not quite follow this sentence, which seemed to be only +half addressed to her; so she only nodded sagely, and turned her +attention to the ferns by the roadside. + +It was less than an hour's trip to Fairtown, nor was the walk long +through the pleasant, elm-shaded streets. The hospital was a brick +building, painted white, and looking very neat and trim, with its +striped awnings, and its flagged pathway between rows of box. One saw +that it had been a fine dwelling-house in its day, for the wood of the +doorway was cunningly carved, and the brass knocker was quite a work of +art. + +Jeremiah knocked; and when the door was opened by a neat maidservant, he +brought the box of flowers, and laid it on a table in the hall. "Miss +Bond's niece!" he said, with a nod of explanation and introduction. +"Thought she'd come herself; like to see the young ones. I'll be back +for ye in an hour," he added to Hildegarde, and with another nod +departed. + +After waiting a few minutes in a cool, shady parlor, where she sat +feeling strange and shy, and wishing she had not come, Hildegarde was +greeted by a sweet-faced woman in spotless cap and apron, who bade her +welcome, and asked for Miss Bond. "It is some time since she has been +here!" she added. "We are always so glad to see her, dear lady. But her +kindness comes every week in the lovely flowers, and the children do +think so much of them. Would you like to distribute them yourself +to-day? A new face is always a pleasure, if it is a kind one; and yours +will bring sunshine, I am sure." + +"Oh, thank you!" said Hildegarde, shyly. "It is just what I wanted, if +you really think they would like it." + +Mrs. Murray, as the matron was called, seemed to have no doubt upon this +point, and led the way upstairs, the servant following with the flowers. +She opened a door, and led Hildegarde into a large, sunny room, with +little white beds all along the wall. On every pillow lay a little +head; and many faces turned toward the opening door, with a look of +pleasure at meeting the matron's cheery smile. Hildegarde opened her +great box, and taking up three or four bouquets, moved forward +hesitatingly. This was something new to her. She had visited girls of +her own age or more, in the New York hospitals, but she was not used to +little children, being herself an only child. In the first cot lay a +little girl, a mite of five years, with a pale patient face. She could +not move her hands, but she turned her face toward the bunch of +sweet-peas that Hildegarde laid on the pillow, and murmured, "Pitty! +pitty!" + +"Aren't they sweet?" said Hildegarde. "Do you see that they have little +wings, almost like butterflies? When the wind blows, they flutter about, +and seem to be alive, almost." + +The child smiled, and put her lips to the cool fragrant blossoms. "Kiss +butterf'ies!" she said; and at this Hildegarde kissed her, and went on +to the next crib. + +Here lay a child of seven, her sweet blue eyes heavy with fever, her +cheeks flushed and burning. She stretched out her hands toward the +flowers, and said, "White ones! give me white ones, Lady! Red ones is +hot! Minnie is too hot. White ones is cold." + +A nurse stood beside the crib, and Hildegarde looked to her for +permission, then filled the little hands with sweet alyssum and white +roses. + +"The roses were all covered with dew when I picked them," she said +softly. "See, dear, they are still cool and fresh." And she laid them +against the burning cheek. "There was a great bed of roses in a lovely +garden, and while I was at one end of it, a little humming-bird came to +the other, and hovered about, and put his bill into the flowers. His +head was bright green, like the leaves, and his throat was ruby-red, +and--" + +"Guess that's a lie, ain't it?" asked the child, wearily. + +"Oh, no!" said Hildegarde, smiling. "It is all true, every word. When +you are better, I will send you a picture of a humming-bird." + +She nodded kindly, and moved on, to give red roses to a bright little +tot in a red flannel dressing-gown, who was sitting up in bed, nursing a +rubber elephant. He took the roses and said, "Sanks!" very politely, +then held them to his pet's gray proboscis. "I's better," he explained, +with some condescension. "I don't need 'em, but Nelephant doos. He's a +severe case. Doctor said so vis mornin'." + +"Indeed!" said Hildegarde, sympathetically. "I am very sorry. What is +the matter with him?" + +"Mumps 'n' ague 'n' brown kitties 'n' ammonia 'n' fits!" was the prompt +reply; "and a hole in his leg too! Feel his pult!" + +He held up a gray leg, which Hildegarde examined gravely. "It seems to +be hollow," she said. "Did the doctor think that was a bad sign?" + +"It's fits," said the child, "or a brown kitty,--I don't know which. Is +you a nurse?" + +"No, dear," said Hildegarde; "I only came to bring the flowers. I must +go away soon, but I shall think of you and the elephant, and I hope he +will be better soon." + +"Sing!" was the unexpected reply, in a tone of positive command. + +"Benny!" said Mrs. Murray, who came up at this moment; "you mustn't +tease the young lady, dear. See! the other children are waiting for +their flowers, and you have these lovely roses." + +"She looks singy!" persisted Benny. "I wants her to sing. Doctor said I +could have what I wanted, and I wants _vat_." + +"May I sing to him?" asked Hildegarde, in a low tone. "I can sing a +little, if it would not disturb the others." + +But Mrs. Murray thought the others would like it very much. So +Hildegarde first gave posies to all the other children in the room, and +then came back and sat down on Benny's bed, and sang, "Up the airy +mountain," in a very sweet, clear voice. Several little ones had been +tossing about in feverish restlessness, but now they lay still and +listened; and when the song was over, a hoarse voice from a corner of +the room cried, "More! more sing!" + +"She's _my_ more! she isn't your more!" cried Benny, sitting erect, +with flashing eyes that glared across the room at the offender. But a +soft hand held a cup of milk to his lips, and laid him back on the +pillow; and the nurse motioned to Hildegarde to go on. + +Then she sang, "Ring, ting! I wish I were a primrose;" and then another +of dear William Allingham's, which had been her own pet song when she +was Benny's age. + + "'Oh, birdie, birdie, will you, pet? + Summer is far and far away yet. + You'll get silken coats and a velvet bed, + And a pillow of satin for your head.' + + "'I'd rather sleep in the ivy wall! + No rain comes through, though I hear it fall + The sun peeps gay at dawn of day, + And I sing and wing away, away.' + + "'Oh, birdie, birdie, will you, pet? + Diamond stones, and amber and jet, + I'll string in a necklace fair and fine, + To please this pretty bird of mine.' + + "'Oh, thanks for diamonds and thanks for jet, + But here is something daintier yet. + A feather necklace round and round, + That I would not sell for a thousand pound.' + + "'Oh, birdie, birdie, won't you, pet? + I'll buy you a dish of silver fret; + A golden cup and an ivory seat, + And carpets soft beneath your feet.' + + "'Can running water be drunk from gold? + Can a silver dish the forest hold? + A rocking twig is the finest chair, + And the softest paths lie through the air. + Farewell, farewell to my lady fair!'" + +By the time the song was finished, Benny was sleeping quietly, and the +nurse thanked Hildegarde for "getting him off so cleverly. He needed a +nap," she said; "and if he thinks we want him to go to sleep, he sets +all his little strength against it. He's getting better, the lamb!" + +"What has been the matter?" asked Hildegarde. + +"Pneumonia," was the reply. "He has come out of it very well, but I +dread the day when he must go home to a busy, careless mother and a +draughty cottage. He ought to have a couple of weeks in the country." + +At this moment the head nurse--a tall, slender woman with a beautiful +face--came from an inner room, the door of which had been standing ajar. +She held out her hand to Hildegarde, and the girl saw that her eyes were +full of tears. "Thank you," she said, "for the song. Another little bird +has just flown away from earth, and he went smiling, when he heard you +sing. Have you any sweet little flowers, pink and white?" + +The quick tears sprang to Hilda's eyes. She could not speak for a +moment, but she lifted some lovely sprays of blush rosebuds, which the +nurse took with a smile and a look of thanks. The girl's eyes followed +her; and before the door closed she caught a glimpse of a little still +form, and a cloud of fair curls, and a tiny waxen hand. Hildegarde +buried her face in her hands and sobbed; while Benny's gentle nurse +smoothed her hair, and spoke softly and soothingly. This was what she +had called a "frolic,"--this! She had laughed, and come away as if to +some gay party, and now a little child had died almost close beside her. +Hildegarde had never been so near death before. The world seemed very +dark to her, as she turned away, and followed Mrs. Murray into another +room, where the convalescent children were at play. Here, as she took +the remaining flowers from the box, little boys and girls came crowding +about her, some on crutches, some with slings and bandages, some only +pale and hollow-eyed; but all had a look of "getting well," and all were +eager for the flowers. The easiest thing seemed to be to sit down on +the floor; so down plumped Hildegarde, and down plumped the children +beside her. Looking into the little pallid faces, her heart grew +lighter, though even this was sad enough. But she smiled, and pelted the +children with bouquets; and then followed much feeble laughter, and +clutching, and tumbling about, while the good matron looked on well +pleased. + +"What's them?" asked one tiny boy, holding up his bunch. + +"Those are pansies!" answered Hildegarde. "There are little faces in +them, do you see? They smile when the sun shines, and when children are +good." + +"Nein," said a small voice from the outside of the circle, "dat iss +Stiefmuetterlein!" + +"Du Bluemlein fein!" cried Hildegarde. "Yes, to be sure. Come here, +little German boy, and we will tell the others about the pretty German +name." + +[Illustration: "SO DOWN PLUMPED HILDEGARDE."] + +A roly-poly lad of six, with flaxen hair and bright blue eyes, came +forward shyly, and after some persuasion was induced to sit down in +Hildegarde's lap. "See now!" she said to the others; "this pansy has a +different name in Germany, where this boy--" + +"Namens Fritzerl!" murmured the urchin, nestling closer to the wonderful +Fraeulein who knew German. + +"Where Fritzerl came from. There they call it 'Stiefmuetterlein,' which +means 'little stepmother.' Shall I tell you why? See! In front here are +three petals just alike, with the same colors and the same marking. +These are the stepmother and her own two daughters; and here, behind, +are the two step-daughters, standing in the background, but keeping +close together like loving sisters. I hope the little stepmother is kind +to them, don't you?" + +"I've got one!" piped up a little girl with a crutch. "She's real good, +she is. Only she washes my face 'most all day long, 'cause she's 'feared +she won't do her duty by me. She brought me red jelly yesterday, and a +noil-cloth bib, so's I wouldn't spill it on my dress. My dress 's new!" +she added, edging up to Hildegarde, and holding up a red merino skirt +with orange spots. + +"I see it is," said Hilda, admiringly; "and so bright and warm, isn't +it?" + +"I've got a grandma to home!" cried another shrill voice. "She makes +splendid mittens! She makes cookies too." + +"My Uncle Jim's got a wooden leg!" chimed in another. "He got it falling +off a mast. He kin drive tacks with it, he kin. When I'm big I'm going +to fall off a mast and git a wooden leg. You kin make lots o' noise with +it." + +"My grandma's got a wig!" said the former speaker, in triumph. "I +pulled it off one day. She was just like an aig on top. Are you like an +aig on top?" + +Here followed a gentle pull at one of Hildegarde's smooth braids, and +she sprang up, feeling quite sure that her hair would stay on, but not +caring to have it tumbling on her shoulders. "I think it is nearly time +for me to go now," she was beginning, when she heard a tiny sob, and +looking down, saw a very small creature looking up at her with round +blue eyes full of tears. "Why, darling, what is the matter?" she asked, +stooping, and lifting the baby in her strong young arms. + +"I--wanted--" Here came another sob. + +"What did you want? Come, we'll sit here by the window, and you shall +tell me all about it." + +"Ze uzzers told you sings, and--I--wanted--to tell you sings--too!" + +"Well, pet!" said Hildegarde, drying the tears, and kissing the round +velvet cheek, "tell me then!" + +"Ain't got no--sings--to tell!" And another outburst threatened; but +Hilda intervened hastily. + +"Oh, yes, I am sure you have things to tell, lots of things; only you +couldn't think of them for a minute. What did you have for breakfast +this morning?" + +Baby looked doubtful. "Dat ain't a sing!" + +"Yes, it is," said Hildegarde, boldly. "Come, now! I had a mutton chop. +What did you have?" + +"Beef tea," was the reply, with a brightening look of retrospective +cheer, "and toasty strips!" + +"_Oh_, how good!" cried Hilda. "I wish I had some. And what are you +going to have for dinner?" + +"Woast tsicken!" and here at last came a smile, which broadened into a +laugh and ended in a chuckle, as Hilda performed a pantomime expressing +rapture. + +"I never heard of anything so good!" she cried. "And what are you going +to eat it with,--two little sticks?" + +"No-o!" cried Baby, with a disdainful laugh. "Wiz a worky, a weal +worky." + +"A walk!" said Hildegarde, puzzled. + +"Es!" said Baby, proudly. "A atta worky, dess like people's!" + +"Please, he means fork!" said a little girl, sidling up with a finger in +her mouth. "Please, he's my brother, and we've both had tripod fever; +and we're going home to-morrow." + +"And the young lady must go home now," said Mrs. Murray, laying a kind +hand on the little one's shoulder. "The man has come for you, Miss +Grahame, and I don't know how to thank you enough for all the pleasure +you have given these dear children." + +"Oh, no!" cried Hildegarde. "Please don't! It is I who must thank you +and the children and all. I wish Rose--I wish my friend had come. She +would have known; she would have said just the right thing to each one. +Next time I shall bring her." + +But "Nein! Muessen selbst kommen!" cried Fritzerl; and "You come, Lady!" +shouted all the others. And as Hildegarde passed back through the long +room where the sick children lay, Benny woke from his nap, and shouted, +"Sing-girl! _my_ sing-girl! come back soon!" + +So, half laughing and half crying, Hildegarde passed out, her heart very +full of painful pleasure. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +THE HOUSE IN THE WOOD. + + +Rose was wonderfully better. Every day in the clear, bracing air of +Bywood seemed to bring fresh vigor to her frame, fresh color to her +cheeks. She began to take regular walks, instead of strolling a little +way, leaning on her friend's stronger arm. Together the girls explored +all the pleasant places of the neighborhood, which were many; hunted for +rare ferns, with tin plant-boxes hanging from their belts, or stalked +the lonely cardinal-flower, as it nodded over some woodland brook. Often +they took the little boat, and made long expeditions down the pleasant +river,--Hildegarde rowing, Rose couched at her ease in the stern. Once +they came to the mouth of a stream which they pleased themselves by +imagining to be unknown to mankind. Dipping the oars gently, Hildegarde +drew the boat on and on, between high, dark banks of hemlock and pine +and white birch. Here were cardinal-flowers, more than they had ever +seen before, rank behind rank, all crowding down to the water's edge to +see their beauty mirrored in the clear, dark stream. They were too +beautiful to pick. But Hildegarde took just one, as a memento, and even +for that one the spirit of the enchanted place seemed to be angered; for +there was a flash of white barred wings, a loud shrill cry, and they +caught the gleam of two fierce black eyes, as something whirred past +them across the stream, and vanished in the woods beyond. + +"Oh! what was it?" cried Hildegarde. "Have we done a dreadful thing?" + +"Only a kingfisher!" said Rose, laughing. "But I don't believe we ought +to have picked his flower. This is certainly a fairy place! Move on, or +he may cast a spell over us, and we shall turn into two black stones." + +One day, however, they had a stranger adventure than that of the Halcyon +Stream, as they named the mysterious brook. They had been walking in the +woods; and Rose, being tired, had stopped to rest, while Hildegarde +pursued a "yellow swallow-tail" among the trees. Rose established +herself on the trunk of a fallen tree, whose upturned roots made a most +comfortable armchair, all tapestried with emerald moss. She looked about +her with great content; counted the different kinds of moss growing +within immediate reach, and found six; tried to decide which was the +prettiest, and finding this impossible, gave it up, and fell to watching +the play of the sunshine as it came twinkling through the branches of +oak and pine. Green and gold!--those were the colors the fairy princes +always wore, she thought. It was the most perfect combination in the +world; and she hummed a verse of one of Hildegarde's ballads:-- + + "Gold and green, gold and green, + She was the lass that was born a queen. + Velvet sleeves to her grass-green gown, + And clinks o' gold in her hair so brown." + +Presently the girl noticed that in one place the trees were thinner, and +that the light came strongly through, as from an open space beyond. Did +the wood end here, then? She rose, and parting the leaves, moved +forward, till all of a sudden she stopped short, in amazement. For +something strange was before her. In an open green space, with the +forest all about it, stood a house,--not a deserted house, nor a +tumbledown log-hut, such as one often sees in Maine, but a trim, pretty +cottage, painted dark red, with a vine-covered piazza, and a miniature +lawn, smooth and green, sloping down to a fringe of willows, beyond +which was heard the murmur of an unseen brook. The shutters were closed, +and there was no sign of life about the place, yet all was in perfect +order; all looked fresh and well cared for, as if the occupants had gone +for a walk or drive, and might return at any moment. A drive? Hark! was +not that the sound of wheels, even at this moment, on the neat +gravel-path? Rose drew back instinctively, letting the branches close in +front of her. Yet, she thought, there could be no harm in her peeping +just for a moment, to see who these forest-dwellers might be. A fairy +prince? a queenly maiden in gold and green? Laughing at her own +thoughts, she leaned forward to peep through the leafy screen. What was +her astonishment when round the corner came the familiar head of Dr. +Abernethy, with the carryall behind him, Jeremiah driving, and Miss +Wealthy sitting on the back seat! Rose could not believe her eyes at +first, and thought she must be asleep on the tree-trunk, and dreaming it +all. Her second thought was, why should not Miss Bond know the people of +the house? They were her neighbors; she had come to make a friendly +call. There was nothing strange about it. No! but it _was_ strange to +see the old lady, after mounting the steps slowly, draw a key from her +pocket, deliberately open the door, and enter the house, closing the +door after her. Jeremiah drove slowly round to the back of the house. In +a few moments the shutters of the lower rooms were flung back. Miss +Wealthy stood at the window for a few minutes, gazing out thoughtfully; +then she disappeared. + +Rose was beginning to feel very guilty, as if she had seen what she +ought not to see. A sense of sadness, of mystery, weighed heavily on her +sensitive spirit. Very quietly she stole back to her tree-trunk, and was +presently joined by Hildegarde, flushed and radiant, with the butterfly +safe in her plant-box, a quick and merciful pinch having converted him +into a "specimen" before he fairly knew that he was caught. Rose told +her tale, and Hildegarde wondered, and in her turn went to look at the +mysterious house. + +"How _very_ strange!" she said, returning. "I hardly know why it is so +strange, for of course there might be all kinds of things to account for +it. It may be the house of some one who has gone away and asked Cousin +Wealthy to come and look at it occasionally. The people _may_ be in it, +and like to have the blinds all shut. And yet--yet, I don't believe it +is so. I feel strange!" + +"Come away!" said Rose, rising. "Come home; it is a secret, and not our +secret." + +And home they went, very silent, and forgetting to look for maiden-hair, +which they had come specially to seek. + +But girls are girls; and Hildegarde and Rose could not keep their +thoughts from dwelling on the house in the wood. After some +consultation, they decided that there would be no harm in asking Martha +about it. If she put them off, or seemed unwilling to speak, then they +would try to forget what they had seen, and keep away from that part of +the woods; if not-- + +So it happened that the next day, while Miss Wealthy was taking her +after-dinner nap, the two girls presented themselves at the door of +Martha's little sewing-room, where she sat with her sleeves rolled up, +hemming pillow-cases. It was a sunny little room, with a pleasant smell +of pennyroyal about it. There was a little mahogany table that might +have done duty as a looking-glass, and indeed did reflect the wonderful +bouquet of wax flowers that adorned it; a hair-cloth rocking-chair, and +a comfortable wooden one with a delightful creak, without which Martha +would not have felt at home. On the walls were some bright prints, and a +framed temperance pledge (Martha had never tasted anything stronger than +shrub, and considered that rather a dangerous stimulant); and the +Deathbed of Lincoln, with a wooden Washington diving out of stony clouds +to receive the departing spirit. + +"May we come in, Martha?" asked Hildegarde. "We have brought our work, +and we want to ask you about something." + +"Come in, and welcome!" responded Martha. "Glad to see you,--if you can +make yourselves comfortable, that is. I'll get another chair from--" + +"No, indeed, you will not!" said Hildegarde. "Rose shall sit in this +rocking-chair, and I will take the window-seat, which is better than +anything else; so, there we are, all settled! Now, Martha--" She +hesitated a moment, and Rose shrank back and made a little deprecatory +movement with her hand; but Hildegarde was not to be stopped. "Martha, +we have seen the house in the wood. We just happened on it by chance, +and we saw--we saw Cousin Wealthy go in. And we want to know if you can +tell us about it, or if Cousin Wealthy would not like us to be told. You +will know, of course." + +She paused. A shadow had crossed Martha's cheerful, wise face; and she +sighed and stitched away in silence at her pillow-case for some minutes, +while the girls waited with outward patience. At last, "I don't know why +I shouldn't tell you, young ladies," she said slowly. "It's no harm, +and no secret; only, of course, you wouldn't speak of it to her, poor +dear!" + +She was silent again, collecting her words; for she was slow of speech, +this good Martha. "That house," she said at last, "belongs to Miss Bond. +It was built just fifty years ago by the young man she was going to +marry." Hildegarde drew in her breath quickly, with a low cry of +surprise, but made no further interruption. + +"He was a fine young gentleman, I've been told by all as had seen him; +tall and handsome, with a kind of foreign way with him, very taking. He +was brought up in France, and almost as soon as he came out here (his +people were from Castine, and had French blood) he met Miss Bond, and +they fell in love with each other at sight, as they say. She lived here +in this same house with her father (her mother was dead), and she was +as sweet as a June rose, and a picture to look at. Ah! dear me, dear me! +Poor lamb! I never saw her then. I was a baby, as you may say; leastwise +a child of three or four. + +"Old Mary told me all about it when first I came,--old Mary was +housekeeper here forty years, and died ten year ago. Well, she used to +say it was a picture to see Miss Wealthy when she was expecting Mr. La +Rose (Victor La Rose was his name). She would put on a white gown, with +a bunch of pansies in the front of it; they were his favorite flowers, +Mary said, and he used to call her his Pansy, which means something in +French, I don't rightly know what; and then she would come out on the +lawn, and look and look down river. Most times he came up in his +sail-boat,--he loved the water, and was more at home on it than on land, +as you may say. And when she saw the white boat coming round the bend, +she would flush all up, old Mary said, like one of them damask roses in +your belt, Miss Hilda; and her eyes would shine and sparkle, and she'd +clap her hands like a child, and run down to the wharf to meet him. +Standing there, with her lovely hair blowing about in the wind, she +would look more like a spirit, Mary would say, than a mortal person. +Then when the boat touched the wharf, she would hold out her little +hands to help him up; and he, so strong and tall, was glad to be helped, +just to touch her hand. And so they would come up to the house together, +holding of hands, like two happy children. And full of play they was, +tossing flowers about and singing and laughing, all for the joy of being +together, as you may say; and she always with a pansy for his +button-hole the first thing; and he looking down so proud and loving +while she fastened it in. And most times he'd bring her something,--a +box of chocolate, or a new book, or whatever it was,--but old Mary +thought she was best pleased when he came with nothing but himself. And +both of them that loving and care-taking to the old gentleman, as one +don't often see in young folks courting; making him sit with them on the +piazza after tea, and the young man telling all he'd seen and done since +the last time; and then she would take her guitar and sing the sweetest, +old Mary said, that ever was sung out of heaven. Then by and by old Mr. +Bond would go away in to his book, and they would sit and talk, or walk +in the moonlight, or perhaps go out on the water. She was a great hand +for the water, Mary said; and never's been on it since that time. Not +that it's to wonder at, to my mind. Ah, dear me! + +"Well, my dears, they was to be married in the early fall, as it might +be September. He had built that pretty house, so as she needn't be far +from her father, who was getting on in years, and she his only child. He +furnished it beautiful, every room like a best parlor,--carpets and +sofys and lace curt'ins,--there was nothing too good. But her own room +was all pansies,--everything made to order, with that pattern and +nothing else. It's a sight to see to-day, fifty years since 't was all +fresh and new. + +"One day--my dear young ladies, the ways of the Lord are very strange by +times, but we must truly think that they _are_ his ways, and so better +than ours,--one day Miss Wealthy was looking for her sweetheart at the +usual time of his coming, about three o'clock in the afternoon. The +morning had been fine, but the weather seemed to be coming up bad, Mary +thought; and old Mr. Bond thought so, too, for he came out on the piazza +where Mary was sorting out garden-herbs, and said, 'Daughter, I think +Victor will drive to-day. There is a squall coming up; it isn't a good +day for the water.' + +"And it wasn't, Mary said; for an ugly black cloud was coming over, and +under it the sky looked green and angry. + +"But Miss Wealthy only laughed, and shook her yellow curls back,--like +curling sunbeams, Mary said they was, and said, 'Victor doesn't mind +squalls, Father dear. He has been in gales and hurricanes and cyclones, +and do you think he will stop for a river flaw? See! there is the boat +now, coming round the bend.' And there, sure enough, came the white +sailboat, flying along as if she was alive, old Mary said. Miss Wealthy +ran out on the lawn and waved her handkerchief, and they saw the young +man stand up in the boat and wave his in return. And then--oh, dear! oh, +dear me!--Mary said, it seemed as if something black came rushing +across the water and struck the boat like a hand; and down she went, and +in a moment there was nothing to see, only the water all black and +hissing, and the wind tearing the tree-tops." + +"Oh! but he could swim!" cried Hildegarde, pale and breathless. + +"He was a noble swimmer, my dear!" said Martha, sadly. "But it came too +sudden, you see. He had turned to look at his sweetheart, poor young +gentleman, and wave to her, and in that moment it came. He hadn't time +to clear himself, and was tangled in the ropes, and held down by the +sail. Oh, don't ask me any more! But he was drowned, that is all of it. +Death needs only a moment, and has that moment always ready. Eh, dear! +My poor, sweet lady!" + +There was a pause; for Rose was weeping, and Hildegarde could not speak, +though her eyes were dry and shining. + +Presently Martha continued: "The poor dear fell back into her father's +arms, and he and Mary carried her into the house; and then came a long, +sad time. For days and days they couldn't make her believe but that he +was saved, for she knew he was a fine swimmer; but at last, when all was +over, and the body found and buried, they brought her a little box that +they found in his pocket, all soaked with water,--oh, dear!--and in it +was that pin,--the stone pansy, as she always wears, and will till the +day she dies. Then she knew, and she lay back in her bed, and they +thought she would never leave it. But folks don't often die that way, +Miss Hilda and Miss Rose. Trouble is for us to live through, not to die +by; and she got well, and comforted her father, and by and by she +learned how to smile again, though that was not for a long time. The +poor gentleman had made a will, giving the new house to her, and all he +had; for he had no near kin living. Mr. Bond wanted her to sell it; but, +oh! she wouldn't hear to it. All these years--fifty long years, Miss +Hilda!--she has kept that house in apple-pie order. Once a month I go +over, as old Mary did before me, and sweep it from top to bottom, and +wash the windows. And three times a week she--Miss Bond--goes over +herself, as you saw her to-day, and sits an hour or so, and puts fresh +pansies in the vases; and Jeremiah keeps the lawn mowed, odd times, and +everything in good shape. It's a strange fancy, to my idea; but there! +it's her pleasure. In winter, when she can't go, of course, for the +snow, she is always low-spirited, poor lady! I was _so_ glad Mrs. +Grahame asked her to go to New York last winter! + +"And now, young ladies," said Martha, gathering up her pillow-cases, "I +should be in my kitchen, seeing about supper. That is all the story of +the house in the wood. And you'll not let it make you too sad, seeing 't +was the Lord's doing; and to look at her now, you'd never think but what +her life had been of her own choosing, and she couldn't have had any +other." + +Very quietly and sadly the girls went to their rooms, and sat hand in +hand, and talked in whispers of what they had heard. The brightness of +the day seemed gone; they could hardly bear the pain of sympathy, of +tender pity, that filled their young hearts. They could not understand +how there could ever be rallying from such a blow. They knew nothing of +how long passing years turn bitter to sweet, and build a lovely "House +of Rest" over what was once a black gulf of anguish and horror. + +Miss Wealthy's cheerful face, when they went down to tea, struck them +with a shock; they had almost expected to find it pale and +tear-stained, and could hardly command their usual voices in speaking to +her. The good lady was quite distressed. "My dear Rose," she said, "you +look very pale and tired. I am quite sure you must have walked too far +to-day. You would better go to bed very early, my dear, and Martha shall +give you a hop pillow. Very soothing a hop pillow is, when one is tired. +And, Hilda, you are not in your usual spirits. I trust you are not +homesick, my child! You have not touched your favorite cream-cheese." + +Both girls reassured her, feeling rather ashamed of themselves; and +after tea Hildegarde read "Bleak House" aloud, and then they had a game +of casino, and the evening passed off quite cheerfully. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +"UP IN THE MORNING EARLY." + + +"One! two! three! four! five! six!" said the clock in the hall. + +"Yes, I know it!" replied Hildegarde, sitting up in bed; and then she +slipped quietly out and went to call Rose. + +"Get up, you sleepy flower!" she said, shaking her friend gently,-- + + "A l'heure ou s'eveille la rose, + Ne vas-tu pas te reveiller?" + +Rose sighed, as she always did at the sound of the "impossible +language," as she called the French, over which she struggled for an +hour every day; but got up obediently, and made a hasty and fragmentary +toilet, ending with a waterproof instead of a dress. Then each girl took +a blue bundle and a brown bath towel, and softly they slipped +downstairs, making no noise, and out into the morning air, and away down +the path to the river. Every blade of grass was awake, and a-quiver with +the dewdrop on its tip; the trees showered pearls and diamonds on the +two girls, as they brushed past them; the birds were singing and +fluttering and twittering on every branch, as if the whole world +belonged to them, as indeed it did. On the river lay a mantle of soft +white mist, curling at the edges, and lifting here and there; and into +this mist the sun was striking gold arrows, turning the white to silver, +and breaking through it to meet the blue flash of the water. Gradually +the mist rose, and floated in the air; and now it was a maiden, a young +Titaness, rising from her sleep, with trailing white robes, which +caught on the trees and the points of rock, and hung in fleecy tatters +on the hillside, and curled in snowy circles through the coves and +hollows. At last she laid her long white arms over the hill-tops, and +lifted her fair head, and so melted quite away and was gone, and the sun +had it all his own way. + +Then Hildegarde and Rose, who had been standing in silent delight and +wonder, gave each a sigh of pleasure, and hugged each other a little, +because it was so beautiful, and went into the boat-house. Thence they +reappeared in a few minutes, clad in close-fitting raiment of blue +flannel, their arms bare, their hair knotted in Gothic fashion on top of +their heads. Then Hildegarde stood on the edge of the wharf, and rose on +the tips of her toes, and joined her palms high above her head, then +sprang into the air, describing an arc, and disappeared with a silver +splash which rivalled that of her own sturgeon. But Rose, who could not +dive, just sat down on the wharf and then rolled off it, in the most +comfortable way possible. When they both came up, there was much +puffing, and shaking of heads, and little gasps and shrieks of delight. +The water by the wharf was nearly up to the girls' shoulders, and +farther than this Rose could not go, as she could not swim; so a rope +had been stretched from the end of the wharf to the shore, and on this +she swung, like the mermaids on the Atlantic cable, in Tenniel's +charming picture, and floated at full length, and played a thousand +gambols. She could see the white pebbled bottom through the clear water, +and her own feet as white as the pebbles (Rose had very pretty feet; and +now that they were no longer useless appendages, she could not help +liking to look at them, though she was rather ashamed of it). Now she +swung herself near the shore, and caught hold of the twisted roots of +the great willow that leaned over the water, and pulled the branches +down till they fell like a green canopy over her; and now she splashed +the water about, for pure pleasure of seeing the diamond showers as the +sunlight caught them. But Hildegarde swam out into the middle of the +river, cleaving the blue water with long, regular strokes; and then +turned on her back, and lay contemplating the universe with infinite +content. + +"You are still in the shade, you poor Rosebud!" she cried. "See! I am +right _in_ the sparkle. I can gather gold with both hands. How many +broad pieces will you have?" She sent a shower of drops toward the +shore, which Rose returned with interest; and a battle-royal ensued, in +which the foam flew left and right, and the smooth water was churned +into a thousand eddies. + +"I am the Plesiosaurus!" cried Hildegarde, giving a mighty splash. +"Beware! beware! my flashing eyes, my floating hair!" + +"Shade of Coleridge, forgive her!" exclaimed Rose, dashing a return +volley of pearly spray. "And the Plesiosaurus had no hair; otherwise, I +may say I have often observed the resemblance. Well, I am the +Ichthyosaurus! You remember the picture in the 'Journey to the Centre of +the Earth'?" + +Hildegarde replied by plunging toward her, rearing her head in as +serpentine a manner as she could command; and after a struggle the two +mighty saurians went down together in a whirlpool of frothing waves. +They came up quite out of breath, and sat laughing and panting on the +willow root, which in one place curved out in such a way as to make a +charming seat. + +"Look at Grandfather Bullfrog!" said Rose. "He is shocked at our +behavior. We are big enough to know better, aren't we, sir?" She +addressed with deep respect an enormous brown bullfrog, who had come up +to see what was the matter, and who sat on a stone surveying the pair +with a look of indignant amazement. + +"Coax! coax! Brek-ke-ke-kex!" cried Hildegarde. "That is the only +sentence of frog-talk I know. It is in a story of Hans Andersen's. Do +you see, Rose? He understands; he winked in a most expressive manner. +Whom did you get for a wife, when you found Tommelise had run away from +you; and what became of the white butterfly?" + +The bullfrog evidently resented this inquiry into his most private +affairs, and disappeared with an indignant "Glump!" + +"Now you shall see me perform the great Nose and Toe Act!" said +Hildegarde, jumping from the seat and swimming to the end of the wharf. +"I promised to show it to you, you remember." She seized the great toe +of her left foot with the right hand, and grasping her nose with the +left, threw herself backward into the water. + +Rose waited in breathless suspense for what seemed an interminable time; +but at length there was a glimmer under the water, then a break, and up +came the dauntless diver, gasping but triumphant, still grasping the +nose and toe. + +"I didn't--let go!" she panted. "I didn't--half--think I could do it, it +is so long since I tried." + +"I thought you would never come up again!" cried Rose. "It is a dreadful +thing to do. You might as well be the Great Northern Diver at once. Are +you sure there isn't a web growing between your toes?" + +"Oh, that is nothing!" said Hildegarde, laughing. "You should see Papa +turn back somersaults in the water. _That_ is worth seeing! Look!" she +added, a moment after, "there is a log floating down. I wonder if I can +walk on it." She swam to the log, which was coming lazily along with the +current; tried to climb on it, and rolled over with it promptly, to +Rose's great delight. But, nothing daunted, she tried again and yet +again, and finally succeeded in standing up on the log, holding out her +arms to balance herself. A pretty picture she made,--lithe and slender +as a reed, her fair face all aglow with life and merriment, and the +sunshine all round her. "See!" she cried, "I am Taglioni, the queen of +the ballet. I had--a--_oh!_ I _nearly_ went over that time--I had a +paper-doll once, named Taglioni. She was truly--lovely! You stood her on +a piece of wood--just like this; only there was a crack which held her +toes, and this has no crack. Now I will perform the Grand Pas de Fee! +La-la-tra-la--if I can only get to this end, now! Rose, I forbid you to +laugh. You shake the log with your empty mirth. La-la-la--" Here the +log, which had its own views, turned quietly over, and the queen of the +ballet disappeared with a loud splash, while Rose laughed till she +nearly lost hold of her rope. + +But now the water-frolic had lasted long enough, and it was nearly +breakfast-time. Very reluctantly the girls left the cool delight of the +water, and shaking themselves like two Newfoundland dogs, ran into the +boat-house, with many exclamations over the good time they had had. + +At breakfast they found Miss Wealthy looking a little troubled over a +note which she had just received by mail. It was from Mrs. Murray, the +matron of the Children's Hospital. + +"Perhaps you would read it to me, Hilda dear!" she said. "I cannot make +it out very well. Mrs. Murray's hand is very illegible, or it may be +partly because I have not my reading-glasses." So Hilda read as +follows:-- + + DEAR MISS BOND,--Is there any one in your + neighborhood who would take a child to board + for a few weeks? Little Benny May, a boy of + four years, very bright and attractive, is + having a slow recovery from pneumonia, and has + had one relapse. I dare not send him home, + where he would be neglected by a very careless + mother; nor can we keep him longer here. I + thought you might possibly know of some good, + motherly woman, who would take the little + fellow, and let him run about in the sunshine + and drink milk, for that is what he needs. + + With kind regards to your niece, whom I hope we + shall see again, + + Always sincerely yours, + ELIZABETH MURRAY. + +Miss Wealthy listened attentively, and shook her head; buttered a +muffin, stirred her tea a little, and shook her head again. "I can't +think," she said slowly and meditatively, "of a soul. I really--" But +here she was interrupted, though not by words. For Hildegarde and Rose +had been exchanging a whole battery of nods and smiles and kindling +glances; and now the former sprang from her seat, and came and knelt by +Miss Wealthy's chair, and looked up in her face with mute but eloquent +appeal. + +"My dear!" said the old lady. "What is it? what do you want? Isn't the +egg perfectly fresh? I will call--" But Hildegarde stayed her hand as +it moved toward the bell. + +"I want Benny!" she murmured, in low and persuasive tones, caressing the +soft withered hand she had taken. + +"A penny!" cried Miss Wealthy. "My _dear_ child, certainly! Any small +amount I will most gladly give you; though, dear Hilda, you are rather +old, perhaps,--at least your mother might think so,--to--" + +"Oh, Cousin Wealthy, how _can_ you?" cried Hildegarde, springing up, and +turning scarlet, though she could not help laughing. "I didn't say +_penny_, I said _Benny_! I want the little boy! Rose and I both want +him, to take care of. Mayn't we have him, _please_? We may not be +motherly, but we are very sisterly,--at least Rose is, and I know I +could learn,--and we would take such good care of him, and we _do_ want +him so!" She paused for breath; and Miss Wealthy leaned back in her +chair, and looked bewildered. + +"A child! here!" she said; and she looked round the room, as if she +rather expected the pictures to fall from the walls at the bare idea. In +this survey she perceived that one picture hung slightly askew. She +sighed, and made a motion to rise; but Hildegarde flew to straighten the +refractory frame, and then returned to the charge. + +"He is very small!" she said meekly. "He could sleep in my room, and we +would wash and dress him and keep him quiet _all_ the time." + +"A child!" repeated Miss Wealthy, speaking as if half in a dream; "a +little child, here!" Then she smiled a little, and then the tears filled +her soft blue eyes, and she gave something like a sob. "I don't know +what Martha would say!" she cried. "It might disturb Martha; +otherwise--" + +But Martha was at her elbow, and laid a quiet hand on her mistress's +arm. "Sure we would all like it, Mam!" she said in her soothing, even +tones. "'T would be like a sunbeam in the house, so it would. You'd +better let the child come, Mam!" + +So it was settled; and the very next day Hildegarde and Rose, escorted +by Jeremiah, went to Fairtown, and returned in triumph, bringing little +Benny with them. + +Benny's eyes were naturally well opened, but by the time he reached the +house they were staring very wide indeed. He held Hildegarde's hand very +tight, and looked earnestly up at the vine-clad walls of the cottage. +"Don't want to go in vere!" he said, hanging back, and putting his +finger in his mouth. "Want to go back!" + +"Oh, yes!" said Hildegarde. "You do want to come in here, Benny. That +is what we have come for, you know. I am going to show you all sorts of +pretty things,--picture-books, and shells, and a black kitty--" + +But here she had touched a string that wakened a train of reflection in +Benny's mind; his lip began to quiver. "Want--my--Nelephant!" he said +piteously. "He's lef' alone--wiv fits. Want to go back to my Nelephant." +An ominous sniff followed; an outbreak of tears was imminent. + +Hildegarde caught him up in her arms and ran off toward the garden. She +could _not_ have him cry, she thought, just at the first moment. Cousin +Wealthy would be upset, and might never get rid of the first impression. +It would spoil everything! The little fellow was already sobbing on her +shoulder, and as she ran she began hastily to repeat the first thing +that came into her mind. + + "Come, take up your hats, and away let us haste + To the Butterfly's Ball and the Grasshopper's Feast. + The trumpeter Gadfly has summoned the crew, + And the revels are now only waiting for you! + + "On the smooth-shaven grass by the side of the wood, + Beneath a broad oak that for ages has stood, + See the children of earth and the tenants of air + For an evening's amusement together repair." + +The sobs had ceased, and Hildegarde paused for breath; but the arm +tightened round her neck, and the baby voice, still tearful, cried, +"Sing! Sing-girl want to sing!" + +"Oh me!" cried Hildegarde, laughing. "You little Old Man of the Sea, how +can I run and sing too?" She sat down under the laburnum-tree, and +taking the two tiny hands in hers, began to pat them together, while she +went on with the "Butterfly's Ball," singing it now to the tune of a +certain hornpipe, which fitted it to perfection. She had not heard the +verses since she was a little girl, but she could never forget the +delight of her childhood. + + "And there came the Beetle, so blind and so black, + Who carried the Emmet, his friend, on his back. + And there came the Gnat, and the Dragon-fly too, + With all their relations, green, orange, and blue. + + "And there came the Moth--" + +At this moment came something else, more welcome than the moth would +have been; for Rose appeared, bearing a mug in one hand, and in the +other--what? + +"Cow!" cried Benny, sitting upright, and stretching out both arms in +rapture. "_My_ cow! mine! all mine!" + +"Yes, your cow, dear, for now!" said Rose, setting the treasure down on +the table. "Look, Benny! she is such a good cow! She is going to give +you some milk,--nice, fresh milk!" + +The brown crockery cow was indeed a milk-jug; and Benny's blue eyes and +Hildegarde's gray ones opened wide in amazement as Rose, grasping the +creature's tail and tilting her forward, poured a stream of milk from +her open mouth into the mug. The child laughed, and clapped his hands +with delight. + +"Where did you get it?" asked Hildegarde in a low tone, as she held the +mug to Benny's lips. + +"Saint Martha!" replied Rose, smiling. "It belonged to her grandmother. +She brought it down just now, and said she had seen many a child quieted +with it, and the little one would very likely be for crying at first, in +a strange place! Isn't it nice?" + +"Nice!" said Hildegarde; "I never want to drink out of anything else but +a brown cow. Dear Martha! and observe the effect!" + +Indeed, Benny was laughing, and patting the cow, and chattering to it, +as if no such thing as a gray rubber elephant had ever existed. So +fickle is childhood! + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +BENNY. + + +Benny took possession of his kingdom, and ruled it with a firm, though +for the most part an indulgent hand. Miss Wealthy succumbed from the +first moment, when he advanced boldly toward her, and laying a chubby +hand on her knee, said, "I like you. Is you' hair made of spoons? it is +all silver." + +Martha was his slave, and lay in wait for him at all hours with +gingerbread-men and "cooky"-cows; while the two girls were nurses, +playmates, and teachers by turns. Jeremiah wheeled him in the +wheelbarrow, and suffered him to kick his shins, and might often be seen +sedately at work hoeing or raking, with the child sitting astride on +his shoulders, and drumming with sturdy heels against his breast. One +member of the family alone resisted the sovereign charm of childhood; +one alone held aloof in cold disdain, refusing to touch the little hand +or answer the piping voice. That one was Samuel Johnson. The great +Doctor was deeply offended at the introduction of this new element into +the household. He had not been consulted; he would have nothing to do +with it! So when Miss Wealthy introduced Benny to him the day after the +child arrived, and waited anxiously for an expression of his opinion, +the Doctor put up his great back, expanded his tail till it looked like +a revolving street-sweeper, and uttering an angry "Fsss! spt!" walked +away in high dudgeon. + +Benny was delighted. "Funny old kyat!" he cried, clapping his hands. +"Say 'Fsss' some more! Hi, ole kyat! I catch you." + +Hildegarde caught him up in her arms as he was about to pursue the +retiring dignitary, and Miss Wealthy looked deeply distressed. + +"My dears, what shall we do?" she said. "This is very unfortunate. If I +had thought the Doctor--but the little fellow is so sweet, I thought he +would be pleased and amused. We must try to keep them away from each +other. Or perhaps, if the little dear would try to propitiate the +Doctor,--you have no idea how sensitive he is, and how he feels anything +like disrespect,--if he were to _try_ to propitiate him, he might--" + + "Vat ole kyat, + He's too fat!" + +shouted Benny, stamping his feet to emphasize the metre,-- + + "Vat ole kyat + He's too fat! + _He_ ought to go + AND catch a rat!" + +"Come, Benny!" said Hildegarde, hastily, as she caught a glare from the +Doctor's yellow eyes that fairly frightened her. "Come out with me and +get some flowers." And as they went she heard Miss Wealthy's voice +addressing the great cat in humble and deprecatory tones. As she walked +about in the garden holding the child's hand, Hildegarde tried to +explain to him that he must be very polite to Dr. Johnson, who was not +at all a common cat, and should be treated with great respect. + +But Benny's bump of reverence was small. "Huh!" he said. "_I_ isn't +'fraid of kyats, sing-girl! You 's 'fraid, but I isn't. I had brown +kitties, only I never seed 'em. Dr. Brown is a liar!" he added suddenly, +with startling emphasis. + +"Why, Benny!" cried Hildegarde. "What do you mean? You mustn't say such +things, dear child." + +"He _is_ a liar!" Benny maintained stoutly. "He said ve brown kitties +was in my froat. Vey wasn't; so he's a liar. P'r'aps he's 'fraid too, +but I isn't." + +For several days the greatest care was taken to keep Benny out of Dr. +Johnson's way. When the imperious mew was heard at the dining-room door +after dinner, the child was hurried through with the last spoonfuls of +his pudding, and whisked away to the parlor before the cat was let in. +Nor would Miss Wealthy herself go into the parlor when the Doctor had +finished his dessert, till she was sure that Benny had been taken out of +doors. Hildegarde was inclined to remonstrate at this course of action, +but Miss Wealthy would not listen to her. + +"My dear," she said, "it does not do to trifle with a character like the +Doctor's. I tremble to think what he might do if once thoroughly roused +to anger. He is accustomed to respect, and demands it; and we must +remember, my dear, that even in the domestic cat lies dormant the spirit +of the Royal Bengal Tiger. No, my dear Hildegarde, we are responsible +for this child's life, and we must at any cost keep him out of the +Doctor's way." + +But fate, which rules both cats and tigers, had ordained otherwise. One +day Hildegarde had gone out to the stable to give a message to Jeremiah, +and had left Benny playing by the back door, where Martha had promised +to "have an eye to him" as she shelled the peas. + +[Illustration: "'OH, SUCH A DEE OLE KITTY!'"] + +On her return, Hildegarde found that the child had run round to the +front of the house; and she followed in that direction, led by the sound +of his voice, which resounded loud and clear. Whom was he talking to? +Hildegarde wondered. Rose was upstairs writing letters, and Cousin +Wealthy was taking a nap. But now the words were plainly audible. +"Dee ole kitty! Oh, _such_ a dee ole kitty! Ole fat kyat, I lubby you." + +Holding her breath, Hildegarde peeped round the corner of the house. +There on the piazza, lay Dr. Johnson, fast asleep in the sunshine; and +beside him stood Benny, regarding him with affectionate satisfaction. "I +ain't seed you for yever so long, ole fat kyat!" he continued; "where +has you been? You is _so_ fat, you make a nice pillow for Benny. Benny +go to sleep with ole fat kyat for a pillow." And to Hildegarde's mingled +horror and amusement, the child curled himself up on the piazza floor, +and deliberately laid his head on the broad black side of the sleeping +lexicographer. The great cat opened his yellow eyes with a start, and +turned his head to see "what thing upon his back had got." There was a +moment of suspense. Hildegarde's first impulse was to rush forward and +snatch the child away; her second was to stand perfectly still. "_Dee_ +ole kitty!" murmured Benny, in dulcet tones. "P'ease don't move! Benny +_so_ comfortable! Benny lubs his sweet ole pillow-kyat! Go to s'eep +again, dee ole kitty!" + +The Doctor lay motionless. His eyes wandered over the little figure, the +small hands nestled in his own thick fur, the rosy face which smiled at +him with dauntless assurance. Who shall say what thoughts passed in that +moment through the mind of the representative of the Royal Bengal Tiger? +Presently his muscles relaxed. His magnificent tail, which had again +expanded to thrice its natural size, sank; he uttered a faint mew, and +the next moment a sound fell on Hildegarde's ear, like the distant +muttering of thunder, or the roll of the surf on a far-off sea-beach. +Dr. Johnson was purring! + +After this all was joy. The barriers were removed, and the child and the +cat became inseparable companions. Miss Wealthy beamed with delight, +and called upon the girls to observe how, in this most remarkable +animal, intellect had triumphed over the feline nature. She was even a +little jealous, when the Doctor forsook his hassock beside her chair to +go and play at ball with Benny; but this was a passing feeling. All +agreed, however, that a line must be drawn somewhere; and when Benny +demanded to have his dinner on the floor with his "sweet ole kyat," four +heads were shaken at him quite severely, and he was told that cats were +good to play with, but not to eat with. In spite of which Rose was +horrified, the next day, to find him crouched on all-fours, lapping from +one side of the Doctor's saucer, while he, purring like a Sound steamer, +lapped on the other. + +Benny did another thing one day. Oh, Benny did another thing! Rose was +teaching him his letters in the parlor, and he was putting them into +metre, as he was apt to put everything,-- + + "_A_, B, _C_, D, + _Fiddle_, diddle, + _Yes_, I see!" + +And with each emphasis he jumped up and down, as if to jolt the letters +into his head. + +"Try to stand still, Benny dear!" said gentle Rose. + +But Benny said he couldn't remember them if he stood still. "_A_, B, +_C_, D! _E_, F, _jiggle_ G!" This time he jumped backward, and flung his +arms about to illustrate the "jiggle;" and--and he knocked over the +peacock glass vase, and it fell on the marble hearth, and broke into +fifty pieces. Oh! it was very dreadful. Mrs. Grahame had brought the +peacock vase from Paris to Miss Wealthy, and it was among her most +cherished trifles; shaped like a peacock, with outspread tail, and +shining with beautiful iridescent tints of green and blue. Now it lay +in glittering fragments on the floor, and timid Rose felt as if she were +too wicked to live, and wished she were back at the Farm, where there +were no vases, but only honest blue willow-ware. + +At this very moment the door opened, and Miss Wealthy came in. Rose +shrank back for a moment behind the tall Japanese screen; not to conceal +herself, but to gather her strength together for the ordeal. Her long +years of illness had left her sensitive beyond description; and now, +though she knew that she had done nothing, and that the child would meet +only the gentlest of plaintive reproofs, her heart was beating so hard +that she felt suffocated, her cheeks were crimson, her eyes suffused +with tears. But Benny was equal to the emergency. His cheeks were very +red, too, and his eyes opened very wide; but he went straight up to Miss +Wealthy and said in a clear, high-pitched voice,-- + +"I've broke vat glass fing which was a peacock. I'm sorry I broke vat +glass fing which was a peacock. I shouldn't fink you would leave glass +fings round for little boys to hit wiv veir little hands and break vem. +You is old enough to know better van vat. I know you is old enough, +'cause you' hair is all spoons, and people is old when veir hair is +spoons,--I mean silver." Having said this with unfaltering voice, the +child suddenly and without the slightest warning burst into a loud roar, +and cried and screamed and sobbed as if his heart would break. + +Rose was at his side in an instant, and told the story of the accident. +And Miss Wealthy, after one pathetic glance at the fragments of her +favorite ornament, fell to wiping the little fellow's eyes with her fine +cambric handkerchief, and telling him that it was "no matter! no matter +at all, dear! Accidents _will_ happen, I suppose!" she added, turning +to Rose with a sad little smile. "But, my dear, pray get the dust-pan at +once. The precious child might get a piece of glass into his foot, and +die of lockjaw." + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +A SURPRISE. + + +It was a lovely August morning. Hildegarde and Rose had the peas to +shell for dinner, and had established themselves under the great +elm-tree, each with a yellow bowl and a blue-checked apron. Hildegarde +was moreover armed with a book, for she had found out one can read and +shell peas at the same time, and some of their pleasantest hours were +passed in this way, the primary occupation ranging from pea-shelling to +the paring of rosy apples or the stoning of raisins. So on this occasion +the sharp crack of the pods and the soft thud of the "Champions of +England" against the bowl kept time with Hildegarde's voice, as she read +from Lockhart's ever-delightful "Life of Scott." The girls were enjoying +the book so much! For true lovers of the great Sir Walter, as they both +were, what could be more interesting than to follow their hero through +the varying phases of his noble life,--to learn how and where and under +what circumstances each noble poem and splendid romance was written; and +to feel through his own spoken or written words the beating of one of +the greatest hearts the world ever knew. + +Hildegarde paused to laugh, after reading the description of the first +visit of the Ettrick Shepherd to the Scotts at Lasswade; when the good +man, seeing Mrs. Scott, who was in delicate health, lying on a sofa, +thought he could not do better than follow his hostess's example, and +accordingly stretched himself at full length, plaid and all, on another +couch. + +"What an extraordinary man!" cried Rose, greatly amused. "How could he +be so very uncouth, and yet write the 'Skylark'?" + +"After all, he was a plain, rough shepherd!" replied Hildegarde. "And +remember, + + 'The dewdrop that hangs from the rowan bough + Is fine as the proudest rose can show.' + +Leyden was a shepherd, too, who wrote the 'Mermaid' that I read you the +other day; and Burns was a farmer's boy. What wonderful people the Scots +are!" + +"On the whole," said Rose, after a pause, "perhaps it isn't so strange +for a shepherd to be a poet. They sit all day out in the fields all +alone with the sky and the sheep and the trees and flowers. One can +imagine how the beauty and the stillness would sink into his heart, and +turn into music and lovely words there. No one ever heard of a +butcher-poet or a baker-poet--at least, I never did!--but a shepherd! +There was the Shepherd Lord, too, that you told me about, and the +Shepherd of Salisbury Plain, in a funny little old book that Father had; +by Hannah More, I think it was. And wasn't there a shepherd painter?" + +"Of course! Giotto!" cried Hildegarde. "He was only ten years old when +Cimabue found him drawing a sheep on a smooth stone." + +"It was in one of my school-readers," said Rose. "Only the teacher +called him Guy Otto, and I supposed it was a contraction of the two +names, for convenience in printing. Then," she added, after a moment, +"there was David, when he was 'ruddy, and of a beautiful countenance.'" + +"And Apollo," cried Hildegarde, "when he kept the flocks of Admetus, you +know." + +"I don't know!" said Rose. "I thought Apollo was the god of the sun." + +"So he was!" replied Hildegarde. "But Jupiter was once angry with him, +and banished him from Olympus. His sun-chariot was sent round the sky as +usual, but empty; and he, poor dear, without his golden rays, came down +to earth, and hired himself as a shepherd to King Admetus of Thessaly. +All the other shepherds were very wild and savage, but Apollo played to +them on his lyre, and sang of all the beautiful things in the world,--of +spring, and the young grass, and the birds, and--oh! everything lovely. +So at last he made them gentle, like himself, and taught them to sing, +and play on the flute, and to love their life and the beautiful world +they lived in. And so shepherds became the happiest people in the +world, and the most skilful in playing and singing, and in shooting with +bow and arrows, which the god also taught them; till at last the gods +were jealous, and called Apollo back to Olympus. Isn't it a pretty +story? I read it in 'Telemaque,' at school last winter." + +"Lovely!" said Rose. "Yes, I think I should like to be a shepherd." And +straightway she fell into a reverie, this foolish Rose, and fancied +herself wrapped in a plaid, lying in a broad meadow, spread with heather +as with a mantle, and here and there gray rocks, and sheep moving slowly +about nibbling the heather. + +And as Hildegarde watched her pure sweet face, and saw it soften into +dreamy languor and then kindle again with some bright thought, another +poem of the Ettrick Shepherd came to her mind, and she repeated the +opening lines, half to herself:-- + + "Bonny Kilmeny gaed up the glen; + But it wasna to meet Duneira's men, + Nor the rosy monk of the isle to see, + For Kilmeny was pure as pure could be." + +"Oh, go on, please!" murmured Rose, all unconscious that she was the +Kilmeny of her friend's thoughts:-- + + "It was only to hear the yorlin sing, + And pu' the cress-flower round the spring; + The scarlet hypp and the hindberrye, + And the nut that hung frae the hazel-tree: + For Kilmeny was pure as pure could be. + But lang may her minny look o'er the wa', + And lang may she seek i' the greenwood shaw; + Lang the Laird of Duneira blame, + And lang, lang greet or Kilmeny come hame. + + "When many a day had come and fled, + When grief grew calm, and hope was dead; + When mass for Kilmeny's soul had been sung, + When the bedesman had prayed and the dead-bell rung; + Late, late in a gloamin', when all was still, + When the fringe was red on the westlin hill, + The wood was sear, the moon i' the wane, + The reek o' the cot hung over the plain, + Like a little wee cloud in the world its lane; + When the ingle lowed with an eiry leme, + Late, late in the gloamin' Kilmeny cam hame." + +Here Hildegarde stopped suddenly; for some one had come along the road, +and was standing still, leaning against the fence, and apparently +listening. It was a boy about eleven years old. He was neatly dressed, +but his clothes were covered with dust, and his broad-brimmed straw hat +was slouched over his eyes so that it nearly hid his face, which was +also turned away from the girls. But though he was apparently gazing +earnestly in the opposite direction, still there was an air of +consciousness about his whole figure, and Hildegarde was quite sure that +he had been listening to her. She waited a few minutes; and then, as the +boy showed no sign of moving on, she called out, "What is it, please? Do +you want something?" + +The boy made an awkward movement with his shoulders, and without turning +round replied in an odd voice, half whine, half growl, "Got any cold +victuals, lady?" + +"Come in!" said Hildegarde, rising, though she was not attracted either +by the voice, nor by the lad's shambling, uncivil manner,--"come in, and +I will get you something to eat." + +The boy still kept his back turned to her, but began sidling slowly +toward the gate, with a clumsy, crab-like motion. "I'm a poor feller, +lady!" he whined, in the same disagreeable tone. "I ain't had nothin' to +eat for a week, and I've got the rheumatiz in my j'ints." + +"_Nothing to eat for a week!_" exclaimed Hildegarde, severely. "My boy, +you are not telling the truth. And who ever heard of rheumatism at your +age? Do you think we ought to let him in, Rose?" she added, in a lower +tone. + +But the boy continued still sidling toward the gate. "I've got a wife +and seven little children, lady! They're all down with the small-pox and +the yeller--" But at this point his eloquence was interrupted, for Rose +sprang from her seat, upsetting the basket of pods, and running forward, +seized him by the shoulders. + +"You scamp!" she cried, shaking him with tender violence. "You naughty +monkey, how could you frighten us so? Oh, my dear, dear little lad, how +do you do?" and whirling the boy round and tossing off his hat, she +revealed to Hildegarde's astonished gaze the freckled, laughing face and +merry blue eyes of Zerubbabel Chirk. + +Bubble was highly delighted at the success of his ruse. He rubbed his +hands and chuckled, then went down on all-fours and began picking up +the pea-pods. "Sorry I made you upset the basket, Pink!" he said. "I +say! how well you're looking! Isn't she, Miss Hilda? Oh! I didn't +suppose you were as well as this." + +He gazed with delighted eyes at his sister's face, on which the fresh +pink and white told a pleasant tale of health and strength. She returned +his look with one of such beaming love and joy that Hildegarde, in the +midst of her own heartfelt pleasure, could not help feeling a momentary +pang. "If my baby brother had only lived!" she thought. But the next +moment she was shaking Bubble by both hands, and telling him how glad +she was to see him. + +"And now tell us!" cried both girls, pulling him down on the ground +between them. "Tell us all about it! How did you get here? Where do you +come from? When did you leave New York? What have you been doing? How +is Dr. Flower?" + +"Guess I've got under Niag'ry Falls, by mistake!" said Bubble, dryly. +"Let me see, now!" He rumpled up his short tow-colored hair with his +favorite gesture, and meditated. "I guess I'll begin at the beginning!" +he said. "Well!" (it was observable that Bubble no longer said "Wa-al!" +and that his speech had improved greatly during the year spent in New +York, though he occasionally dropped back into his former broad drawl.) +"Well! it's been hot in the city. I tell you, it's been hot. Why, Miss +Hilda, I never knew what heat was before." + +"I know it must be dreadful, Bubble!" said Hildegarde. "I have never +been in town in August, but I can imagine what it must be." + +"I really don't know, Miss Hilda, whether you can," returned Bubble, +respectfully. "It isn't like any heat I ever felt at home. Can you +imagine your brains sizzling in your head, like a kettle boiling?" + +"Oh, don't, Bubble!" cried Rose. "Don't say such things!" + +"Well, it's true!" said the boy. "That's exactly the way it felt. It was +like being in a furnace,--a white furnace in the day-time, and a black +one at night; that was all the difference. I had my head shaved,--it's +growed now, but I'm going to have it done again, soon as I get +back,--and wore a flannel shirt and those linen pants you made, Pinkie. +I tell you I was glad of 'em, if I did laugh at 'em at first--and so I +got on. I wrote you that Dr. Flower had taken me to do errands for him +during vacation?" The girls nodded. "Well, I stayed at his house,--it's +a jolly house!--and 't was as cool there as anywhere. I went to the +hospital with him every day, and I'm going to be a surgeon, and he says +I can." + +Hildegarde smiled approval, and Rose patted the flaxen head, and said, +"Yes, I am sure you can, dear boy. Do you remember how you set the +chicken's leg last year?" + +"I told the doctor about that," said Bubble, "and he said I did it +right. Wasn't I proud! I held accidents for him two or three times this +summer," he added proudly. "It never made me faint at all, though it +does most people at first." + +"Held accidents?" asked Hildegarde, innocently. "What do you mean, +laddie?" + +"People hurt in accidents!" replied the boy. "While he set the bones, +you know. There were some very fine ones!" and he kindled with +professional enthusiasm. "There was one man who had fallen from a +staging sixty feet high, and was all--" + +"Don't! don't!" cried both girls, in horror, putting their fingers in +their ears. + +"We don't want to hear about it, you dreadful boy!" said Hildegarde. +"_We_ are not going to be surgeons, be good enough to remember." + +"Oh, it's all right!" said Bubble, laughing. "He got well, and is about +on crutches now. Then there was a case of trepanning. Oh, that _was_ so +beautiful! You _must_ let me tell you about that. You see, this man was +a sailor, and he fell from the top-gallantmast, and struck--" But here +Rose's hand was laid resolutely over his mouth, and he was told that if +he could not refrain from surgical anecdotes, he would be sent back to +New York forthwith. + +"All right!" said the embryo surgeon, with a sigh; "only they're about +all I have to tell that is really interesting. Well, it grew hotter and +hotter. Dr. Flower didn't seem to mind the heat much; but Jock and +I--well, we did." + +"Oh, my dear little Jock!" cried Hildegarde, remorsefully. "To think of +my never having asked for him. How is the dear doggie?" + +"He's all right now," replied Bubble, "But there was one hot spell last +month, that we thought would finish the pup. Hot? Well, I should--I +mean, I should think it was! You had to put your boots down cellar every +night, or else they'd be warped so you couldn't put 'em on in the +morning." + +"Bubble!" said Hildegarde, holding up a warning finger. But Bubble would +not be repressed again. + +"Oh, Miss Hilda, you don't know anything about it!" he said; "excuse me, +but really you don't. The sidewalks were so hot, the bakers just put +their dough out on them, and it was baked in a few minutes. All the +Fifth Avenue folks had fountain attachments put on to their carriages, +and sprinkled themselves with iced lavender water and odycolone as they +drove along; and the bronze statue in Union Square melted and ran all +over the lot." + +"Rose, what shall we do to this boy?" cried Hildegarde, as the youthful +Munchausen paused for breath. "And you aren't telling me a word about my +precious Jock, you little wretch!" + +"One night," Bubble resumed,--"I'm in earnest now, Miss Hilda,--one +night it seemed as if there was no air to breathe; as if we was just +taking red-hot dust into our lungs. Poor little Jock seemed very sick; +he lay and moaned and moaned, like a baby, and kept looking from the +doctor to me, as if he was asking us to help him. I was pretty nigh beat +out, too, and even the doctor seemed fagged; but we could stand it +better than the poor little beast could. I sat and fanned him, but that +didn't help him much, the air was so hot. Then the doctor sent me for +some cracked ice, and we put it on his head and neck, and _that_ took +hold! 'The dog's in a fever!' says the doctor. 'We must watch him +to-night, and if he pulls through, I'll see to him in the morning,' says +he. Well, we spent that night taking turns, putting ice on that dog's +head, and fanning him, and giving him water." + +"My dear Bubble!" said Hildegarde, her eyes full of tears. "Dear good +boy! and kindest doctor in the world! How shall I thank you both?" + +"We weren't going to let him die," said Bubble, "after the way you saved +his life last summer, Miss Hilda. Well, he did pull through, and so did +we; but I was pretty shaky, and the morning came red-hot. The sun was +like copper when it rose, and there seemed to be a sort of haze of +heat, just pure heat, hanging over the city. And Dr. Flower says, +'You're going to git out o' this!' says he." + +"I don't believe he said anything of the kind!" interrupted Rose, who +regarded Dr. Flower as a combination of Bayard, Sidney, and the +Admirable Crichton. + +"Well, it came to the same thing!" retorted Bubble, unabashed. "Anyhow, +we took the first train after breakfast for Glenfield." + +"Oh, oh, Bubble!" cried both girls, eagerly. "Not really?" + +"Yes, really!" said Bubble. "I got to the Farm about ten o'clock, and +went up and knocked at the front door, thinking I'd give Mrs. Hartley a +surprise, same as I did you just now; but nobody came, so I went in, and +found not a soul in the house. But I knowed--I _knew_ she couldn't be +far off; for her knitting lay on the table, and the beans--it was +Saturday--were in the pot, simmering away. So I sat down in the farmer's +big chair, and looked about me. Oh, I tell you, Miss Hilda, it seemed +good! There was the back door open, and the hens picking round the big +doorstep, just the way they used, and the great willow tapping against +the window, and a pile of Summer Sweetings on the shelf, all warm in the +sunshine, you know,--only you weren't there, and I kept kind o' hoping +you would come in. Do you remember, one day I wanted one of them +Sweetings, and you wouldn't give me one till I'd told you about all the +famous apples I'd ever heard of?" + +"No, you funny boy!" said Hildegarde, laughing. "I have forgotten about +it." + +"Well, I hain't--haven't, I mean!" said the boy. "I couldn't think of a +single one, 'cept William Tell's apple, and Adam and Eve, of course, and +three that Lawyer Clinch's red cow choked herself with trying to +swallow 'em all at once, being greedy, like the man that owned her. So +you gave me the apple, gave me two or three; and while I was eating 'em, +you told me about the Hesperides ones, and the apple of discord, and +that--that young woman who ran the race: what was her name?--some +capital of a Southern State! Milledgeville, was it?" + +"Atlanta!" cried Hildegarde, bursting into a peal of laughter; and +"Atlanta! you goosey!" exclaimed Rose, pretending to box the boy's ears. +"And it wasn't named for Atalanta at all, was it, Hildegarde?" + +"No!" said the latter, still laughing heartily. "Bubble, it is +delightful to hear your nonsense again. But go on, and tell us about the +dear good friends." + +"I'm coming to them in a minute," said Bubble; "but I must just tell you +about Jock first. You never saw a dog so pleased in all your life. He +went sniffing and smelling about, and barking those little, short +'Wuffs!' as he does when he is tickled about anything. Then he went to +look for his plate. But it wasn't there, of course; so he ran out to see +the hens, and pass the time o' day with them. They didn't mind him much; +but all of a sudden a cat came out from the woodshed,--a strange cat, +who didn't know Jock from a--from an elephant. Up went her back, and out +went her tail, and she growled and spit like a good one. Of course Jock +couldn't stand that, so he gave a 'ki-hi!' and after her. They made time +round that yard, now I tell you! The hens scuttled off, clucking as if +all the foxes in the county had broke loose; and for a minute or two it +seemed as if there was two or three dogs and half-a-dozen cats. Well, +sir!--I mean, ma'am! at last the cat made a bolt, and up the big maple +by the horse-trough. I thought she was safe then; but Jock, he gave a +spring and caught hold of the eend of her tail, and down they both come, +kerwumpus, on to the ground, and rolled eend over eend." (It was +observable that in the heat of narration Bubble dropped his school +English, and reverted to the vernacular of Glenfield.) "But that was +more than the old cat could stand, and she turned and went for _him_. +Ha, ha! 't was 'ki, hi!' out of the other side of his mouth then, I tell +ye, Miss Hildy! You never see a dog so scairt. And jest then, as 't +would happen, Mis' Hartley came in from the barn with a basket of eggs, +and you may--you may talk Greek to me, if that pup didn't bolt right +into her, so hard that she sat down suddent on the doorstep, and the +eggs rolled every which way. Then I caught him; and the cat, she lit out +somewhere, quicker 'n a wink, and Mis' Hartley sat up, and says she, +'Well, of all the world! Zerubbabel Chirk, you may just pick up them +eggs, if you _did_ drop from the moon!" + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +TELEMACHUS GOES A-FISHING. + + +At this point Bubble's narrative was interrupted by the appearance of +Martha, making demand for her peas. Bubble was duly presented to her; +and she beamed on him through her spectacles, and was delighted to see +him, and quite sure he must be very hungry. + +"I never thought of that!" cried Hildegarde, remorsefully. "When did you +have breakfast, and have you had anything to eat since?" + +Bubble had had breakfast at half-past six, and had had nothing since. +The girls were horrified. + +"Come into the kitchen this minute!" said Martha, imperatively. So he +did; and the next minute he was looking upon cold beef and johnny-cake +and apple-pie, and a pile of doughnuts over which he could hardly see +Martha's anxious face as she asked if he thought that would stay him +till dinner. "For boys are boys!" she added, impressively, turning to +Hildegarde; "and girls they are not, nor won't be." + +When he had eaten all that even a hungry boy could possibly eat, Bubble +was carried off to be introduced to Miss Wealthy. She, too, was +delighted to see him, and made him more than welcome; and when he spoke +of staying a day or two in the neighborhood, and asked if he could get a +room nearer than the village, she was quite severe with him, forbade him +to mention the subject again, and sent Martha to show him the little +room in the ell, where she said he could be comfortable, and the longer +he stayed the better. It was the neatest, cosiest little room, just big +enough for a boy, the girls said with delight, when they went to inspect +it. The walls were painted bright blue, which had rather a peculiar +effect; but Martha explained that Jeremiah had half a pot of blue paint +left after painting the wheelbarrow and the pails, and thought he might +as well use it up. Apparently the half pot gave out before Jeremiah came +to the chairs, for one of them was yellow, while the other had red legs +and a white seat and back. But the whole effect was very cheerful and +pleasant, and Bubble was enchanted. + +The girls left him to wash his face and hands, and brush the roadside +dust from his clothes. As he was plunging his face into the cool, +sparkling water in the blue china basin, he heard a small but decided +voice addressing him; and looking up, became aware of a person in kilts +standing in the doorway and surveying him with manifest disapprobation. + +"Hello, young un!" said Bubble, cheerily. "How goes the world with you?" + +"Vat basin ain't your basin!" responded the person in kilts, with great +severity. + +Bubble looked from him to the basin, and back again, with amused +perplexity. "Oh! it isn't, eh?" he said. "Well, that's a pity, isn't +it?" + +"Vis room ain't your room!" continued the new-comer, with increased +sternness; "vis bed ain't your bed! I's ve boy of vis house. Go out of +ve back door! _Go_ 'WAY!" + +At the last word Benny stamped his foot, and raised his voice to a roar +which fairly startled his hearer. Bubble regarded him steadfastly for a +moment, and then sat down on the bed and began feeling in his pockets. +"I found something so funny to-day!" he said. "I was walking along the +road--" + +"Go out of ve back door!" repeated Benny, in an appalling shout. + +"And I came," continued Bubble, in easy, conversational tones, +regardless of the vindictive glare of the blue eyes fixed upon him,--"I +came to a great bed of blue clay. Not a bed like this, you know,"--for +Benny's glare was now intensified by the expression of scorn and +incredulity,--"but just a lot of it in the road and up the side of the +ditch. So I sat down on the bank to rest a little, and I made some +marbles. See!" he drew from his pocket some very respectable marbles, +and dropped them on the quilt, where they rolled about in an enticing +manner. Benny was opening his mouth for another roar; but at sight of +the marbles he shut it again, and put his hand in his kilt pocket +instinctively. But there were no marbles in his pocket. + +"Then," Bubble went on, taking apparently no notice of him, "I thought I +would make some other things, because I didn't know but I might meet +some boy who liked things." Benny edged a little nearer the bed, but +spoke no word. "So I made a pear,"--he took the pear out and laid it on +the bed,--"and a hen,"--the hen lay beside the pear,--"and a bee-hive, +and a mouse; only the mouse's tail broke off." He laid the delightful +things all side by side on the bed, and arranged the marbles round them +in a circle. "And look here!" he added, looking up suddenly, as if a +bright idea had struck him; "if you'll let me stay here a bit, I'll give +you all these, and teach you to play ring-taw too! Come now!" His bright +smile, combined with the treasures on the bed, was irresistible. Benny's +mouth quivered; then the corners went up, up, and the next moment he was +sitting on the bed, chuckling over the hen and the marbles, and the two +had known each other for years. + +"But look here!" said the person in kilts, breaking off suddenly in an +animated description of the brown crockery cow, "you must carry me about +on your back!" + +"Why, of course!" responded Bubble. "What do you suppose I come here +for?" + +"And go on all-fours when I want you to!" persisted the small tyrant. +"'Cause Jeremiah has a bone in his leg, and them girls"--oh, black +ingratitude of childhood!--"won't. I don't need you for a pillow, 'cause +I has my sweet old fat kyat for a pillow." + +"Naturally!" said Bubble. "But if you should want a bolster any time, +just let me know." + +"Because I's ve boy of ve house, you see!" said Benny, in a tone of +relief. + +"You are that!" responded Bubble, with great heartiness. + +By general consent, the second half of Zerubbabel's narrative was +reserved for the evening, when Miss Wealthy could hear and enjoy it. +Hildegarde and Rose, of course, found out all about their kind friends +at the Farm; and the former looked very grave when she heard that Mr. +and Mrs. Hartley were expecting Rose without fail early in September, +and were counting the days till her return. But she resolutely shook off +all selfish thoughts, and entered heartily into the pleasure of doing +the honors of the place for the new-comer. + +Bubble was delighted with everything. It was the prettiest place he had +ever seen. There never was such a garden; there never were such +apple-trees, "except the Red Russet tree at the Farm!" he said. "_That_ +tree is hard to beat. 'Member it, Miss Hilda,--great big tree, down by +the barn?" + +"Indeed I do!" said Hilda. "Those are the best apples in the world, I +think; and so beautiful,--all golden brown, with the bright scarlet +patch on one cheek. Dear apples! I wish I might have some this fall." + +Bubble smiled, knowing that Farmer Hartley was counting upon sending his +best barrel of Russets to his favorite "Huldy;" but preserved a discreet +silence, and they went on down to the boat-house. + +When evening came, the group round the parlor-table was a very pleasant +one to see. Miss Wealthy's chair was drawn up near the light, and she +had her best cap on, and her evening knitting, which was something as +soft and white and light as the steam of the tea-kettle. Near her sat +Hildegarde, wearing a gown of soft white woollen stuff, which set off +her clear, fresh beauty well. She was dressing a doll, which she meant +to slip into the next box of flowers that went to the hospital, for a +little girl who was just getting well enough to want "something to +cuddle;" and her lap was full of rainbow fragments of silk and velvet, +the result of Cousin Wealthy's search in one of her numerous piece-bags. +On the other side of the table sat Rose, looking very like her +name-flower in her pale-pink dress; while Bubble, on a stool beside her, +rested his arm on his sister's knee, and looked the very embodiment of +content. A tiny fire was crackling on the hearth, even though it was +still August; for Miss Wealthy thought the evening mist from the river +was dangerous, and dried her air as carefully as she did her linen. Dr. +Johnson was curled on his hassock beside the fire; Benny was safe in +bed. + +"And now, Bubble," said Hildegarde, with a little sigh of satisfaction +as she looked around and thought how cosey and pleasant it all was, "now +you shall tell us about your fishing excursion." + +"Well," said Bubble, nothing loath, "it was this way, you see. When I +came back from the Farm, leaving Jock there, I found the doctor in his +study, and the whole room full of rods and lines and reels, and all +kinds of truck; and he was playing with the queerest things I ever saw +in my life,--bits of feather and wool, and I don't know what not, with +hooks in them. When he called me to come and look at his flies I was all +up a tree, and didn't know what he was talking about; but he told me +about 'em, and showed me, and then says he, 'I'm going a-fishing, +Bubble, and I'm going to take you, if you want to go.' Well, I didn't +leave much doubt in his mind about _that_. Fishing! Well, _you_ know, +Pinkie, there's nothing like it, after all. So we started next morning, +Doctor and I, and three other fel--I mean gentlemen. Two of 'em was +doctors, and the third was a funny little man, not much bigger'n me. I +wish 't you could ha' seen us start! Truck? Well, I should--say so! +Rods, and baskets, and bait-boxes, and rugs, and pillows, and canned +things, and camp-stools, and tents, and a cooking-stove, and a barrel of +beer, and--" + +"How much of this are you making up, young man?" inquired Hildegarde, +calmly; while Miss Wealthy paused in her knitting, and looked over her +spectacles at Bubble in mild amazement. + +"Not one word, Miss Hilda!" replied the boy, earnestly. "Sure as you're +sitting there, we did start with all them--_those_ things. Doctor, of +course, knew 't was all nonsense, and he kept telling the others so; but +they was bound to have 'em; and the little man, he wouldn't be separated +from that beer-barrel, not for gold. However, it all turned out right. +We were bound for Tapsco stream, you see; and when we came to the end +of the railroad, we hired a sledge and a yoke of oxen, and started for +the woods. Seven miles the folks there told us it was, but it took us +two whole days to do it; and by the time we got to the stream, the city +chaps, all 'cept Dr. Flower (and he really ain't half a city chap!) were +pretty well tired out, I can tell you. Breaking through the bushes, +stumbling over stumps and stones, and h'isting a loaded sledge over the +worst places, wasn't exactly what they had expected; for none of 'em but +the doctor had been in the woods before. Well, we got to the stream; and +there was the man who was going to be our guide and cook, and all that. +He had two canoes,--a big one and a little one; he was going to paddle +one, and one of us the other. Well, the little man--his name was +Packard--said he'd paddle the small canoe, and take the stove and the +beer-barrel, ''cause they'll need careful handling,' says he. The old +guide looked at him, when he said that, pretty sharp, but he didn't say +nothing; and the rest of us got into the other canoe with the rest of +the truck, after we'd put in his load. We started ahead, and Mr. Packard +came after, paddling as proud as could be, with his barrel in the bow, +and he and the stove in the stern. I wish't you could ha' seen him, Miss +Hilda! I tell you he was a sight, with his chin up in the air, and his +mouth open. Presently we heard him say, 'This position becomes irksome; +I think I will change'--but that was all he had time to say; for before +the guide could holler to him, he had moved, and over he went, boat and +barrel and stove and all. Ha! ha! ha! Oh, _my!_ if that wasn't the most +comical sight--" + +"Oh, but, Bubble," cried Hildegarde, hastily, as a quick glance showed +her that Miss Wealthy had turned pale, dropped her knitting, and put +her hand up to the pansy brooch, "he wasn't hurt, was he? Poor little +man!" + +"Hurt? not a mite!" responded Bubble. "He come up next minute, puffing +and blowing like a two-ton grampus, and struck out for our canoe. We +were all laughing so we could hardly stir to help him in; but the doctor +hauled him over the side, and then we paddled over and righted his +canoe. He was in a great state of mind! 'You ought to be indicted,' he +says to the guide, 'for having such a canoe as that. It's infamous! it's +atrocious! I--I--I--how dare you, sir, give me such a rickety eggshell +and call it a boat?' Old Marks, the guide, looked at him again, and +didn't say anything for a while, but just kept on paddling. At last he +says, very slow, as he always speaks, 'I--guess--it's all right, Squire. +This is a prohibition State, you know; and that's a prohibition boat, +that's all.' Well, there was some talk about fishing the things up; but +there was no way of doing it, and Dr. Flower said, anyhow, he didn't +come to fish for barrels nor yet for cook-stoves; so we went on, and +there they be--_are_ yet, I suppose. Bimeby we came to Marks's camp, +where we were to stay. It was a bark lean-to, big enough for us all, +with a nice fire burning, and all comfortable. Doctor and I liked it +first-rate; but the city chaps,--they said they must have their tents +up, so we spent a good part of a day getting the things up." + +"And were they more comfortable?" asked Rose. "I suppose the gentlemen +were not used to roughing it." + +"Humph!" responded Bubble, with sovereign contempt. "Mr. Packard set his +afire, trying to build what he called a scientific fire, and came near +burning himself up, and the rest of us, let alone the whole woods. And +the second night it came on to rain,--my! how it did rain! and the +second tent was wet through, and they were all mighty glad to come into +the lean-to!" + +"This seems to have been a severe experience, my lad," said Miss +Wealthy, with gentle sympathy. "I trust that none of the party suffered +in health from all this exposure." + +"Oh, no, ma'am!" Bubble hastened to assure her. "It was splendid fun! +splendid! I never had such a good time. I could fish for a year without +stopping, I do believe." + +Miss Wealthy's sympathetic look changed to one of mild disapproval, for +she did not like what she called "violent sentiments." "So exaggerated a +statement, my boy," she said gently, "is doubtless not meant to be taken +literally. Fishing, or angling, to use a more elegant word, seems to be +a sport which gives great pleasure to those who pursue it. Dr. Johnson, +it is true, spoke slightingly of it, and described a fishing-rod as a +stick with a hook at one end, and--ahem! he was probably in jest, my +dears--a fool at the other. But Izaak Walton was a meek and devout +person; and my dear father was fond of angling, and--and--others I have +known. Go on, my lad, with your lively description." + +Poor Bubble was so abashed by this little dissertation that his +liveliness seemed to have deserted him entirely for the moment. He hung +his head, and looked so piteously at Hildegarde that she was obliged to +take refuge in a fit of coughing, which made Miss Wealthy exclaim +anxiously that she feared she had taken cold. + +"Go on, Bubble!" said Hildegarde, as soon as she had recovered herself, +nodding imperatively to him. "How many fish did you catch?" + +"Oh, a great many!" replied the boy, rather soberly. "Dr. Flower is a +first-rate fisherman, and he caught a lot every day; and the other two +doctors caught some. But Mr. Packard,"--here his eyes began to twinkle +again, and his voice took on its usual cheerful ring,--"poor Mr. +Packard, he did have hard luck. The first time he threw a fly it caught +in a tree, and got all tangled up, so 't he was an hour and more getting +his line free. Then he thought 't would be better on the other side of +the stream; so he started to cross over, and stepped into a deep hole, +and down he sat with a splash, and one of his rubber boots came off, and +he dropped his rod. Of all the unlucky people I ever saw! I tell you, 't +was enough to make a frog laugh to see him fish! Then, of course, he'd +got the water all riled--" + +"All--I beg your pardon?--riled?" asked Miss Wealthy, innocently. + +"All muddy!" said Bubble, hastily; "so he couldn't fish there no more +for one while. And just then I happened to come along with a string of +trout--ten of 'em, and perfect beauties!--that I'd caught with a string +and a crooked pin; and that seemed to finish Mr. Packard entirely. Next +day he had rheumatism in his joints, and stayed in camp all day, +watching Marks making snow-shoes. The day after that he tried again, and +fished all the morning, and caught one yellow perch and an eel. The eel +danced right up in his face,--it did, sure as I'm alive, Pink!--and +scairt him so, I'm blessed if he didn't sit down again--ho! ho! ho!--on +a point o' rock, and slid off into the water, and lost his spectacles. +Oh, dear! it don't seem as if it could be true; but it is, every word. +The next day he went home. _He_'ll never go a-fishing again." + +"Poor man! I should think not!" said Rose, compassionately. "But is Dr. +Flower--are all the others still there?" + +"Gone home!" said Bubble. "We came out of the woods three days ago, and +took the train yesterday. I never thought of such a thing as stopping; +supposed I must go right back to work. But when the brakeman sung out, +'Next station Bywood!' Doctor just says quietly, 'Get your bag ready, +Bubble! You're going to get out at this station.' And when I looked at +him, all struck of a heap, as you may say, he says, 'Shut your mouth! +you look really better with it shut. There is a patient of mine staying +at this place, Miss Chirk by name. I want you to look her up, make +inquiries into her case, and if you can get lodgings in the +neighborhood, stay till she is ready to be escorted back to New York. It +is all arranged, and I have a boy engaged to take your place for two +weeks. Now, then! do not leave umbrellas or packages in the train! +Good-by!' And there we were at the station; and he just shook hands, and +dropped me off on the platform, and off they went again. Isn't he a good +man? I tell you, if they was all like him, there wouldn't be no trouble +in the world for anybody." And Rose thought so too! + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + +THE GREAT SCHEME. + + +In the latter days of August came a hot wave. It started, we will say, +from the Gulf, which was heated sevenfold on purpose, and which simmered +and hissed like a gigantic caldron. It came rolling up over the country, +scorching all it touched, spreading its fiery billows east and west. New +York wilted and fell prostrate. Boston wiped the sweat from her +intellectual brow, and panted in all the modern languages. Even Maine +was not safe among her rocks and pine-trees; and a wavelet of pure +caloric swept over quiet Bywood, and made its inhabitants very +uncomfortable. Miss Wealthy could not remember any such heat. There had +been a very hot season in 1853,--she remembered it because her father +had given up frills to his shirts, as no amount of starch would keep +them from hanging limp an hour after they were put on; but she really +did not think it was so severe as this. She was obliged to put away her +knitting, it made her hands so uncomfortable; and took to crocheting a +tidy with linen thread, as the coolest work she could think of. +Hildegarde and Rose put on the thin muslins which had lain all summer in +their clothespress drawers, and did their best to keep Benny cool and +quiet; read Dr. Kane's "Arctic Voyages," and discussed the possibility +of Miss Wealthy's allowing them to shave Dr. Johnson. + +Bubble spent much of his time in cracking ice and making lemonade, when +he was not on or in the river. + +As for Martha, she devoted herself to the concoction of cold dishes, and +fed the whole family on jellied tongue, lobster-salad, ice-cream, and +Charlotte Russe, till they rose up and blessed her. + +When Flower-Day came, the girls braved the heat, and went to Fairtown +with the flowers; Miss Wealthy reluctantly allowing them to go, because +she was anxious, as they were, to know how the little patients bore the +heat. They brought back a sad report. The sick children were suffering +much; the hospital was like a furnace, in spite of all that could be +done to keep it cool. Mrs. Murray sighed for a "country week" for them +all, but knew no way of attaining the desired object, as most of the +people interested in the hospital were out of town. + +"Oh, if we could only find a place!" cried Hildegarde, after she had +told about the little pallid faces and the fever-heat in town. "If +there were only some empty house,"--she did not dare to look at Miss +Wealthy as she said this, but kept her eyes on the river (they were all +sitting on the piazza, waiting for the afternoon breeze, which seldom +failed them),--"some quiet place, like Islip, where the poor little +souls could come, for a week or two, till this dreadful heat is past." +Then she told the story of Islip, with its lovely Seaside Home, where +all summer long the poor children come and go, nursed and tended to +refreshment by the black-clad Sisters. Miss Wealthy made no sign, but +sat with clasped hands, her work lying idle in her lap. Rose was very +pale, and trembled with a sense of coming trouble; but Hildegarde's +cheeks were flushed, and her eyes shone with excitement. + +There were a few moments of absolute silence, broken only by the hot +shrilling of a locust in a tree hard by; then Zerubbabel Chirk, calmly +unconscious of any thrill in the air, any tension of the nerves, any +crisis impending, paused in his whittling, and instead of carving a +whistle for Benny, cut the Gordian knot. + +"Why, there is a house, close by here," he said; "not more 'n half a +mile off. I was going to ask you girls about it. A pretty red house, all +spick and span, and not a soul in it, far as I could see. Why isn't it +exactly the place you want?" He looked from one to the other with +bright, inquiring eyes; but no one answered. "I'm sure it is!" he +continued, with increasing animation. "There's a lawn where the children +could play, and a nice clear brook for 'em to paddle and sail boats in, +and gravel for 'em to dig in,--why, it was _made_ for children!" cried +the boy. "And as for the man that owns it, why, if he doesn't want to +stay there himself, why shouldn't he let some one else have it?--unless +he's an old hunks; and even if he is--" He stopped short, for Rose had +seized his arm with a terrified grasp, and Hildegarde's clear eyes +flashed a silent warning. + +Miss Wealthy tottered to her feet, and the others rose instinctively +also. She stood for a moment, her hand at her throat, her eyes fixed on +Bubble, trembling as if he had struck her a heavy blow; then, as the +frightened girls made a motion to advance, she waved them back with a +gesture full of dignity, and turned and entered the house, making a low +moan as she went. + +"Send Martha to her, _quick_!" said Hildegarde, in an imperative +whisper. "Fly, Bubble! the back door!" + +Bubble flew, as if he had been shot from a gun, and returned, wide-eyed +and open-mouthed, to find his sister in tears, and his adored Miss Hilda +pacing up and down the piazza with hasty and agitated steps. + +"What is it?" he cried in dismay. "What did I do? What is the matter +with everybody? Why, I never--" + +Hildegarde quieted him with a gesture, and then told him, briefly, the +story of the house in the wood. Poor Bubble was quite overcome. He +punched his head severely, and declared that he was the most stupid +idiot that ever lived. + +"I'd better go away!" he cried. "I can't see the old lady again. As kind +as she's been to me, and then for me to call her a--I guess I'll be +going, Miss Hilda; I'm no good here, and only doing harm." + +"Be quiet, Bubble!" said Hildegarde, smiling in the midst of her +distress. "You shall do nothing of the kind. And, Rose, you are not to +shed another tear. Who knows? This may be the very best thing that could +have happened. Of course I wouldn't have had you say it, Bubble, just +in that way; but now that it _is_ said, I--I think I am glad of it. I +should not wonder--I really do hope that it may have been just the word +that was wanted." + +And so it proved. For an hour after, as the three still sat on the +piazza,--two of them utterly disconsolate, the third trying to cheer +them with the hope that she was feeling more and more strongly,--Martha +appeared. There were traces of tears in her friendly gray eyes, but she +looked kindly at the forlorn trio. + +"Miss Bond is not feeling very well!" she said. "She is lying down, and +thinks she will not come downstairs this evening. Here is a note for +you, Miss Hilda, and a letter for the post." + +Hildegarde tore open the little folded note, and read, in Miss Wealthy's +pretty, regular hand, these words:-- + + MY DEAR HILDA,--Please tell the boy that I do + not mean to be an old hunks, and ask him to + post this letter. We will make our arrangements + to-morrow, as I am rather tired now. + + Your affectionate cousin, + WEALTHY BOND. + +The letter was addressed to Mrs. Murray at the Children's Hospital; and +at sight of it Hildegarde threw her arms round Martha's neck, and gave +her a good hug. Her private desire was to cry; but tears were a luxury +she rarely indulged in, so she laughed instead. + +"Is it all right, Martha," she asked,--"really and truly right? Because +if it is, I am the happiest girl in the world." + +"It is all right, indeed, Miss Hilda!" replied Martha, heartily; "and +the best thing that could have happened, to my mind. Dear gracious! so +often as I've wished for something to break up that place, so to speak, +and make a living house 'stead of a dead one! And it never could ha' +been done, in my thinking, any other way than this. So it's a good day's +work you've done, and thankful she'll be to you for it when the shock of +it is over." Then, seeing that the young people were still a little +"trembly," as she called it, this best of Marthas added cheerfully: +"It's like to be a very warm evening, I'm thinking. And as Miss Bond +isn't coming down, wouldn't it be pleasant for you to go out in the +boat, perhaps, Miss Hilda, and take your tea with you? There's a nice +little mould of pressed chicken, do you see, and some lemon jelly on the +ice; and I could make you up a nice basket, and 't would be right +pleasant now, wouldn't it, young ladies?" + +Whereupon Martha was called a saint and an angel and a brick, all in +three breaths; and she went off, well pleased, to pack the basket, +leaving great joy behind her. + +Late that evening, when Hildegarde was going to bed, she saw the door of +Miss Wealthy's room ajar, and heard her name called softly. She went in, +and found the dear old lady sitting in her great white dimity armchair. + +"Come here, my dear," said Miss Wealthy, gently. "I have something to +show you, which I think you will like to see." + +She had a miniature in her hand,--the portrait of a young and handsome +man, with flashing dark eyes, and a noble, thoughtful face. + +"It is my Victor!" said the old lady, tenderly. "I am an old woman, but +he is always my true love, young and beautiful. Look at it, my child! It +is the face of a good and true man." + +"You do not mind my knowing?" Hildegarde asked, kissing the soft, +wrinkled hand. + +"I am very glad of it," replied Miss Wealthy,--"very glad! And in--in a +little while--when I have had time to realize it--I shall no doubt be +glad of this--this projected change. You see"--she paused, and seemed to +seek for a word,--"you see, dear, it has always been Victor's house to +me. I never--I should not have thought of making use of it, like another +house. It is doubtless--much better. In fact, I am sure of it. It has +come to me very strongly that Victor would like it, that it would please +him extremely. And now I blame myself for never having thought of such a +thing before. So, my dear," she added, bending forward to kiss +Hildegarde's forehead, "besides the blessings of the sick children, you +will win one from me, and--who knows?--perhaps one from a voice we +cannot hear." + +The girl was too much moved to speak, and they were silent for a while. + +"And now," Miss Wealthy said very cheerfully, "it is bedtime for you, +and for me too. But before you go, I want to give you a little trinket +that I had when I was just your age. My grandmother gave it to me; and +though I am not exactly your grandmother, I am the next thing to it. +Open that little cupboard, if you please, and bring me a small red +morocco box which you will find on the second shelf, in the right-hand +corner. There is a brown pill-box next to it; do you find it, my love?" + +Hildegarde brought the box, and on being told to open it, found a +bracelet of black velvet, on which was sewed a garland of miniature +flowers, white roses and forget-me-nots, wrought in exquisite enamel. + +"I thought of it," said the old lady, as Hildegarde bent over the pretty +trinket in wondering delight, "when I saw your forget-me-not room last +winter. The clasp, you see, is a turquoise; I believe, rather a fine +one. My grandfather brought it from Constantinople. A pretty thing; it +will look well on your arm. The Bonds all have good arms, which is a +privilege. Good-night, dear child! Sleep well, and be ready to elaborate +your great scheme to-morrow." + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + +THE WIDOW BRETT. + + +So it came to pass that at the breakfast-table next morning no one was +so bright and gay as Miss Wealthy. She was full of the new plan, and +made one suggestion after another. + +"The first thing," she said, "is to find a good housekeeper. There is +nothing more important, especially where children are concerned. Now, I +have thought of precisely the right person,--pre-cisely!" she added, +sipping her tea with an air of great content. "Martha, your cousin +Cynthia Brett is the very woman for the place." + +"Truly, Mam, I think she is," said Martha, putting down the buttered +toast on the exact centre of the little round mat where it belonged; +"and I think she would do it too!" + +"A widow," Miss Wealthy explained, turning to Hildegarde, her kind eyes +beaming with interest, "fond of children, neat as _wax_, capable, a good +cook, and makes butter equal to Martha's. My dears, Cynthia Brett was +made for this emergency. Zerubbabel, my lad, are you desirous of +attracting attention? We will gladly listen to any suggestion you have +to make." + +The unfortunate Bubble, who had been drumming on the table with his +spoon, blushed furiously, muttered an incoherent apology, and wished he +were small enough to dive into his bowl of porridge. + +"And this brings me to another plan," continued the dear old lady. +"Bixby, where Cynthia Brett lives, is an extremely pretty little +village, and I should like you all to see it. What do you say to driving +over there, spending the night at Mrs. Brett's, and coming back the next +day, after making the arrangements with her? Zerubbabel could borrow Mr. +Rawson's pony, I am sure, and be your escort. Do you like the plan, +Hilda, my dear?" + +"Oh, Cousin Wealthy," cried Hildegarde, "it is too delightful! We should +enjoy it above all things. But--no!" she added, "what would you do +without the Doctor? You would lose your drive. Is there no other way of +sending word to Mrs. Brett?" + +But Miss Wealthy would not hear of any other way. It was a pity if she +could not stay at home one day, she said. So when Mr. Brisket, the long +butcher from Bixby, came that morning, and towering in the doorway, six +feet and a half of blue jean, asked if they wanted "a-any ni-ice +mut-ton toda-a-ay," he was intrusted with a note from Martha to her +cousin, telling of the projected expedition, and warning her to expect +the young ladies the next day but one. + +The day came,--a day of absolute beauty, and though still very hot, not +unbearable. Dr. Abernethy had had an excellent breakfast, with twice his +usual quantity of oats, so that he actually frisked when he was brought +round to the door. The whole family assembled to see the little party +start. Miss Wealthy stood on the piazza, looking like an ancient Dresden +shepherdess in her pink and white and silver beauty, and gave caution +after caution: they must spare the horse up hill, and _never_ trot down +hill; "and let the good beast drink, dearie, when you come to the +half-way trough,--not too much, but enough moderately to quench his +thirst;" etc. + +Martha beamed through her silver-rimmed spectacles, and hoped she'd +given them enough lunch; while Benny, with his hand resting on the head +of his "ole fat kyat," surveyed them with rather a serious air. + +The girls had been troubled about Benny. They did not want to leave the +little fellow, who had announced his firm intention of going with them; +yet it was out of the question to take him. The evening before, however, +Bubble had had a long talk with "ve boy of ve house;" and great was the +relief of the ladies when that youthful potentate announced at breakfast +his determination to stay at home and "take care of ve womenfolks, +'cause Jim-Maria [the name by which he persistently called the +melancholy prophet], he's gettin' old, an' somebody has to see to fings; +and I's ve boy of ve house, so _I_ ought to see to vem." + +When the final moment came, however, it seemed very dreadful to see his +own Sing-girl drive away, and Posy, and the other boy too; and Benny's +lip began to quiver, and his eyes to grow large and round, to make room +for the tears. At this very moment, however, Jim-Maria, who had +disappeared after bringing the horse to the door, came round the corner, +bringing the most wonderful hobby-horse that ever was seen. It was +painted bright yellow, for that was the color Jeremiah was painting the +barn. Its eyes were large and black, which gave it a dashing and +spirited appearance; and at sight of it the Boy of the House forgot +everything else in heaven and earth. "Mine horse!" he cried, rushing +upon it with outstretched arms,--"all mine, for to wide on! Jim-Maria, +get out ov ve way! Goo-by, Sing-girl! goo-by, ev'ryboggy! Benny's goin' +to ve Norf Pole!" and he cantered away, triumphant. + +Then Hildegarde and Rose, seeing that all was well, made their adieus +with a light heart, and Bubble waved his hat, and Miss Wealthy kissed +her hand, and Martha shook her blue checked apron violently up and down, +and off they went. + + * * * * * + +The little village of Bixby was in its usual condition of somnolent +cheerfulness, that same afternoon. The mail had come in, being brought +in Abner Colt's green wagon from the railway-station two miles away. The +appearance of the green wagon, with its solitary brown bag, not +generally too well filled, and its bundle of newspapers, was the signal +for all the village-loungers to gather about the door of the +post-office. The busy men would come later, when the mail was sorted; +but this was the supreme hour of the loungers. They did not often get +letters themselves, but it was very important that they should see who +_did_ get letters; and most of them had a newspaper to look for. Then +the joy of leaning against the door-posts, and waiting to see if +anything would happen! As a rule, nothing did happen, but there was no +knowing what joyful day might bring a new sensation. Sometimes there was +a dog-fight. Once--thrilling recollection!--Ozias Brisket's horse had +run away ("Think 't 's likely a bumble-bee must ha' stung him; couldn't +nothin' else ha' stirred him out of a walk, haw! haw!") and had +scattered the joints of meat all about the street. + +To-day there seemed little chance of any awakening event beyond the +arrival of the green cart. It was very warm; the patient post-supporters +were nearly asleep. Their yellow dogs slumbered at their feet; the +afternoon sun filled the little street with vivid golden light. + +Suddenly the sound of wheels was heard,--of unfamiliar wheels. The +post-supporters knew the creak or rattle or jingle of every "team" in +Bixby. There was a general stir, a looking up the street, in the +direction whence the sound came; and then a gaping of mouths, an opening +of eyes, a craning of long necks. + +A phaeton, drawn by a comfortable-looking gray horse, was coming slowly +down the street. It approached; it stopped at the post-office door. In +it sat two young girls: one, tall, erect, with flashing gray eyes and +brilliant color, held the reins, and drew the horse up with the air of a +practised whip; the other leaned back among the cushions, with a very +happy, contented look, though she seemed rather tired. Both girls were +dressed alike in simple gowns of blue gingham; but the simplicity was of +a kind unknown to Bixby, and the general effect was very marvellous. The +spectators had not yet shut their mouths, when a clattering of hoofs +was heard, and a boy on a black pony came dashing along the street, and +drew up beside the phaeton. + +"No, it wasn't that house," he said, addressing the two girls. "At +least, there was no one there. Say," he added, turning to the nearest +lounger, a sandy person of uncertain age and appearance, "can you tell +us where Mrs. Brett lives?" + +"The Widder Brett?" returned the sandy person, cautiously. "Do ye mean +the Widder Brett?" + +"Yes, I suppose so," answered the boy. "Is there any other Mrs. Brett?" + +"No, there ain't!" was the succinct reply. + +"Well, where _does_ she live?" cried the boy, impatiently. + +"The Widder Brett lives down yender!" said the sandy person, nodding +down the street. "Ye can't see the house from here, but go clear on to +the eend, and ye'll see it to yer right,--a yaller house, with green +blinds, an' a yard in front. You 'kin to the Widder Brett?" + +"No," said the tall young lady, speaking for the first time; "we are no +relations. Thank you very much! Good-morning!" and with a word to the +boy, she gathered up the reins, and drove slowly down the little street. + +The post-supporters watched them till the last wheel of the phaeton +disappeared round the turn; then they turned eagerly to one another. + +"Who be they? What d'ye s'pose they want o' the Widder Brett?" was the +eager cry. "Says they ain't no blood relation o' Mis' Brett's." "Some o' +Brett's folks, likely!" "I allus heerd his folks was well off." + +Meanwhile the phaeton was making its way along slowly, as I said, for +Rose was tired after the long drive. + +"But not too tired!" she averred, in answer to Hildegarde's anxious +inquiry. "Oh, no, dear! not a bit too tired, only just enough to make +rest most delightful. What a funny little street!--something like the +street in Glenfield, isn't it? Look! that might be Miss Bean's shop, +before you took hold of it." + +"Oh, worse, much worse!" cried Hildegarde, laughing. "These bonnets are +positively mildewed. Rose, I see the mould on that bunch of berries." + +"Mould!" cried Rose, in mock indignation. "It is bloom, Hilda,--a fine +purple bloom! City people don't know the difference, perhaps." + +"See!" said Hildegarde; "this must be 'the Widder Brett's' house. What a +pretty little place, Rose! I am sure we shall like the good woman +herself. Take the reins, dear, while I go and make sure. No, Bubble, I +will go myself, thank you." + +She sprang lightly out, and after patting Dr. Abernethy's head and +bidding him stand still like the best of dears, she opened the white +gate, which stuck a little, as if it were not opened every day. A tidy +little wooden walk, with a border of pinks on either side, led up to the +green door, in front of which was one broad stone doorstep. Beyond the +pinks was a bed of pansies on the one hand; on the other, two +apple-trees and a pleasant little green space; while under the cottage +windows were tiger-lilies and tall white phlox and geraniums, and a +great bush of southernwood; altogether, it was a front yard such as Miss +Jewett would like. + +Hildegarde lifted the bright brass knocker,--she was so glad it was a +knocker, and not an odious gong bell; she _could_ not have liked a +house with a gong bell,--and rapped gently. The pause which followed was +not strictly necessary, for the Widow Brett had been reconnoitring every +movement of the new-comers through a crack in the window-blind, and was +now standing in the little entry, not two feet from the door. The good +woman counted twenty, which she thought would occupy just about the time +necessary to come from the kitchen, and then opened the door, with a +proper expression of polite surprise on her face. + +"Good-day!" she said, with a rising inflection. + +"How do you do?" replied Hildegarde, with a falling one. "Are you Mrs. +Brett, and are you expecting us?" + +"My name is Brett," replied the tall, spare woman in the brown stuff +gown; "but I wasn't expectin' any one, as I know of. Pleased to see ye, +though! Step in, won't ye?" + +"Oh!" cried Hildegarde, looking distressed. "Didn't you--haven't you had +a letter from Martha? She promised to write, and said she was sure you +would take us in for the night. I don't understand--" + +"There!" cried Mrs. Brett. "Step right in now, do! and I'll tell you. +This way, if _you_ please!" and much flurried, she led the way into the +best room, and drew up the hair-cloth rocking-chair, in which our +heroine entombed herself. "I _do_ declare," the widow went on, "I ought +to be shook! There _was_ a letter come last night; and my spectacles was +broken, my dear, and I can't read Martha's small handwriting without +'em. I thought 't was just one of her letters, you know, telling how +they was getting on, and I'd wait till one of the neighbors came in to +read it to me. Well, there! and all the time she was telling me +something, was she? and who might you be, dear, that was thinking of +staying here?" + +"I am Hilda Grahame!" said the girl, suppressing an inclination to cry, +as the thought of Rose's tired face came over her. "If you will find the +letter, Mrs. Brett, I will read it to you at once. It was to tell you +that I was coming, with my friend, who is in the carriage now, and her +young brother; and Martha thought there was no doubt about your taking +us in. Perhaps there is some other house--" + +"No, there isn't," said the Widow Brett, quickly and kindly,--"not +another one. The idea! Of course I'll take you in, child, and glad +enough of the chance. And you Miss Hildy Grahame, too, that Marthy has +told me so much about! Why, I'm right glad to see ye, right glad!" She +took Hildegarde's hand, and moved it up and down as if it were a +pump-handle, her homely face shining with a cordiality which was +evidently genuine. "Only,"--and here her face clouded again,--"only if +I'd ha' known, I should have had everything ready, and have done some +cleaning, and cooked up a few things. You'll have to take me just as I +am, I expect! However--" + +"Oh, we _like_ things just as they are!" cried Hildegarde, in delight. +"You must not make any difference at all for us, Mrs. Brett! We shall +not like it if you do. May I bring my friend in now?" + +"Well, I should say so!" cried the good woman. "She's out in the +carriage, you say? I'll go right out and fetch her in." + +Rose was warmly welcomed, and brought into the house; while Hilda +fastened Dr. Abernethy to the gate-post, and got the shawls and +hand-bags out from under the seat. + +"I expect you'd like to go right upstairs and lay off your things!" was +Mrs. Brett's next remark. "I declare! I do wish 't I'd known! I swep' +the spare chamber yesterday, but I hadn't any _i_dea of its being used. +Well, there! you'll have to take me as I am." She bustled upstairs +before the girls, talking all the way. "I try to keep the house clean, +but I don't often have comp'ny, and the dust doos gather so, this dry +weather, and not keeping any help, you see--well, there! this is the +best I've got, and maybe it'll do to sleep in." + +She threw open, with mingled pride and nervousness, the door of a +pleasant, sunny room, rather bare, but in exquisite order. The rag +carpet was brilliant with scarlet, blue, and green; the furniture showed +no smallest speck of dust; the bed looked like a snowdrift. +Nevertheless, the good hostess went peering about, wiping the chairs +with her apron, and repeating, "The dust _doos_ gather so! I wouldn't +set down, if I was you, till I've got the chairs done off!" + +"Why, Mrs. Brett," cried Hildegarde, laughing merrily, "it is the chairs +you should be anxious for, not ourselves. We are simply _covered_ with +dust, from head to foot. I think it must be an inch deep on my hat!" she +continued, taking off her round "sailor" and looking at it with +pretended alarm. "I don't dare to put it down in this clean room." + +"Oh, _that_'s all right!" cried the widow, beaming. "Land sakes! I don't +care how much dust you bring in, but I _should_ be lawth to have you get +any on you here. Well, there! now you need a proper good rest, I'm sure, +both of you. Wouldn't you like a cup o' tea now?" + +[Illustration: "'NOT A THING IN THE HOUSE!'"] + +Both girls declined the tea, and declared that an hour's rest was all +they needed; so the good woman bade them "rest good!" and hurried +downstairs, to fling herself into a Berserker fit of cooking. "Not a +thing in the house!" she soliloquized, as she sifted flour and beat eggs +with the energy of desperation, "except cookies and doughnuts; and +Marthy always has everything so nice, let alone what they're used to at +home. I'll make up a sheet of sponge-cake, I guess, first, and while +it's baking I can whip up some chocolate frosting and mix a pan of +biscuit. Le' me see! I might make a jelly-roll, while I'm about it, for +there's some of Marthy's own currant jelly that she sent me last fall. +They'd ought to have some hearty victuals for supper, I suppose; but I +declare,"--she paused, with the egg-beater in her hand,--"stuffed +aigs'll have to do to-night, I guess!" she concluded with a sigh. "There +isn't time to get a chicken ready. Well, there! If I'd ha' known! but +they'll have to take me as I am. I might give 'em some fritters, +though, to eat with maple surrup, just for a relish." + +While these formidable preparations were going on against their peace of +body, the two girls were enjoying an hour of perfect rest, each after +her own manner. Rose was curled up on the bed, in a delicious doze which +was fast deepening into sound sleep. Hildegarde sat in a low chair with +a book in her hand, and looked out of the window. She could always rest +better with a book, even if she did not read it; and the very touch of +this little worn morocco volume--it was the "Golden Treasury"--was a +pleasure to her. She looked out dreamily over the pleasant green fields +and strips of woodland; for the house stood at the very end of the +little village, and the country was before and around it. Under the +window lay the back yard, with a white lilac-tree in blossom, and a +well with a long sweep. Such a pleasant place it looked! A low +stone-wall shut it in, the stones all covered with moss and gay red and +yellow lichens. Beside the white lilac, there was a great elm and a +yellow birch. In the latter was an oriole's nest; and presently +Hildegarde heard the bird's clear golden note, and saw his bright wings +flash by. "I like this place!" she said, settling herself comfortably in +the flag-bottomed chair. She dropped her eyes to the book in her lap and +read,-- + + "Straight mine eye hath caught new pleasures + While the landscape round it measures: + Russet lawns, and fallows gray, + Where the nibbling flocks do stray; + Mountains, on whose barren breast + The laboring clouds do often rest; + Meadows trim with daisies pied, + Shallow brooks, and rivers wide." + +Then her eyes strayed over the landscape again. "There must be a brook +over there, behind that line of willows!" she thought. "I wonder if +Milton loved willows. There are pines and monumental oaks in 'Il +Penseroso,' but I don't remember any willows. It's a pity we have no +skylarks here! I do want Rose to hear a skylark. Dear Rose! dear Milton! +Oh--I am _so_ comfortable!" + +And Hildegarde was asleep. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + +OLD MR. COLT. + + +Supper was over. The girls had laughingly resisted their hostess's +appeal, "Just one more fritter, with another on each side to keep it +warm,--though I don't know as they _are_ fit to eat!" and on her +positive refusal to let them help wash the dishes, had retired to the +back doorstep, from which they could watch the sunset. Here they were +joined by Bubble, who had found a lodging for himself, Dr. Abernethy, +and the pony, in the family of Abner Colt, the mail-carrier. He took his +place on the doorstep with the air of one who has fairly earned his +repose. + +"Well, Bubble," said Hildegarde, "tell us how you have fared." + +"Oh, very well!" answered the boy,--"very well, Miss Hilda! They're a +funny set over there at Mr. Colt's, but they seem very kind, and they +have given me a nice little room in the stable-loft, so 't I can see to +the Doctor any minute." + +"How is the dear beast?" asked Rose. "I thought he went a little lame, +after he got that stone in his foot." + +"I have bathed the foot," said Bubble, "and it'll be all right +to-morrow. Old Mr. Colt wanted to give me three different kinds of +liniment to rub on it, but hot water is all it needs. He's a queer old +fellow, old Mr. Colt!" he added meditatively. "Seems to live on medicine +chiefly." + +"What do you mean?" asked the girls. + +"Why," said Bubble, "he came in to supper--I hadn't seen him +before--with a big bottle under his arm, and a box of pills in his hand. +He came shuffling in in his stocking-feet, and when he saw me he gave a +kind of groan. 'Who's that?' says he. 'It's a boy come over from +Bywood,' says Mrs. Abner, as they call her. 'He's goin' to stop here +over night, Father. Ain't you glad to see him?--Father likes young folks +real well!' she says to me. The old gentleman gave a groan, and sat +down, nursing his big bottle as if it were a baby. 'D'ye ever have the +dyspepsy?' he asked, looking at me. 'No, sir!' said I. 'Never had +anything that I know of, 'cept the measles.' He groaned again, and +poured something out of the bottle into a tumbler. 'You look kinder +'pindlin',' says he, shaking his head. 'I think likely you've got it on +ye 'thout knowin' it. It's sub-tile, dyspepsy is,--dreadful sub-tile.'" + +"What did he mean?--subtle?" asked Hilda, laughing. + +"I suppose so!" replied the boy. "And then he took his medicine, +groaning all the time and making the worst faces you ever saw. 'I reckon +you'd better take a swallow o' this, my son!' he said. 'It's a +pre-ventitative, as well 's a cure.'" + +"Bubble," cried his sister, "you are making this up. Confess, you +monkey!" + +"I'm not!" said Bubble, laughing. "It's true, every word of it. I +_couldn't_ make up old Mr. Colt! 'It's a pre-ventitative!' he says, and +reaches out his hand for my tumbler. Then Abner, the young man, spoke +up, and told him he guessed I'd be better without it, and that 't wasn't +meant for young people, and so on. 'What is it, Mr. Colt?' I asked, +seeing that he looked real--I mean very much--disappointed. He +brightened up at once. 'It's Vino's Vegetable Vivifier!' he said. 'It's +the greatest thing out for dyspepsy. How many bottles have I took, +Leory?' 'I believe this is the tenth, Father!' said Mrs. Abner. 'And _I_ +don't see as 't 's done you a mite o' good!' she said to herself, but so +'t I could hear. 'Thar!' says the old man, nodding at me, as proud as +could be, 'd' ye hear that? Ten bottles I've took, at a dollar a bottle. +Ah! it's great stuff. Ugh!' and he groaned and took a great piece of +mince-pie on his plate. 'Oh, Father!' says the young woman, '_do_ you +think you ought to eat mince-pie, after as sick as you was yesterday?' +He was just as mad as hops! 'Ef I'm to be grutched vittles,' he says, 'I +guess it's time for me to be quittin'. I've eat mince-pie seventy year, +man an' boy, and I guess I ain't goin' to leave off now. I kin go over +to Joel's, if so be folks begrutches me my vittles here.' 'Oh, come, +Father!' says Abner; 'you know Leory didn't mean nothing like that. Ef +you've got to have the pie, why, you've _got_ to have it, that's all.' +The old man groaned, and pegged away at the pie like a good one. 'Ah!' +he said, 'I sha'n't be here long, anyway. Nobody needn't be afraid o' +_my_ eatin' up their substance. Hand me them doughnuts, Abner. Nothin' +seems to have any taste to it, somehow.'" + +"Did he eat nothing but pie and doughnuts?" asked Hilda. "I should be +afraid he would die to-night." + +"Oh," said Bubble, "you wouldn't believe me if I told you all the things +he ate. Pickles and hot biscuit and cheese--and groaning all the time, +and saying nobody knowed what dyspepsy was till they'd had it. Then, +when he'd finished, he opened the pill-box, which had been close beside +his plate all the time, and took three great fat black pills. 'Have any +trouble with yer liver?' says he, turning to me again; 'there is +nothin' like these pills for yer liver. You take two of these, and +you'll feel 'em all over ye in an hour's time,--all over ye!' I thought +'t was about time for me to go, so I said I must attend to the horse's +foot, and went out to the stable. It was then that he brought me the +three kinds of liniment, and wanted me to rub them all on, 'so 's if one +didn't take holt, another would.'" + +"What a dreadful old ghoul!" cried Hildegarde, indignantly. "I don't +think it's safe for you to stay there, Bubble. I know he will poison you +in some way." + +"You're talking about Cephas Colt, _I_ know," said the voice of Mrs. +Brett; and the good woman appeared with her knitting, and joined the +group on the doorstep. "He is a caution, Cephas is,--a caution! He's +been dosing himself for the last thirty years, and it's a living miracle +that he is alive to-day Abner and Leory have a sight o' trouble with +him; but they're real good and patient, more so 'n I should be. Did he +show you his collection of bottles?" she added, turning to Bubble. + +"No," replied the boy. "He did speak of showing me something; but I was +in a hurry to get over here, so I told him I couldn't wait." + +"You'll see 'em to-morrow, then!" said the widow. "It's his delight to +show 'em to strangers. Four thousand and odd bottles he has,--all physic +bottles, that have held all the stuff he and his folks have taken for +thirty years." + +"Four--thousand--bottles!" cried her hearers, in dismay. + +"And odd!" replied the widow, with emphasis. "He's adding new ones all +the time, and hopes to make it up to five thousand before he dies. Large +ones and small, of course, and lotions and all. He takes every new +thing that comes along, reg'lar. He has his wife's bottles all arranged +in a shape, kind o' monument-like. They do say he wanted to set them up +on her grave, but I guess that's only talk." + +"How long ago did she die?" asked Rose. + +"Three year ago, it is now!" said Mrs. Brett. "Dosed herself to death, +we all thought. She was just like him! Folks used to say they had pills +and catnip-tea for dinner the day they was married. You know how folks +will talk! It's a fact though"--here she lowered her voice--"and I'd +ought not to gossip about my neighbors, nor I don't among themselves +much, but strangers seem different somehow,--anyhow, it _is_ a fact that +he wanted to put a scandalous inscription on her monument in the +cemetery, and Abner wouldn't let him; the only time Abner ever stood +out against his father, as I know of." + +"What was the inscription?" asked Hildegarde, trying hard to look as +grave as the subject required. + +"Well,--you mustn't say I told you!" said the Widow Brett, lowering her +voice still more, and looking about with an air of mystery,--"'t was + + 'Phosphoria helped her for a spell; + But Death spoke up, and all is well.' + +'Sh! you mustn't laugh!" she added, as the three young people broke into +peals of laughter. "There! I'd ought not to have told. He didn't _mean_ +nothing improper, only to express resignation to the will o' Providence. +Well, there! the tongue's an onruly member. And so you young ladies +thought you'd like to see Bixby, did ye?" she added, for the third or +fourth time. "Well, I'm sure! Bixby'd oughter be proud. 'T _is_ a +sightly place, I've always thought. You must go over t' the cemetery +to-morrow, and see what there is to see." + +"Yes, we did want to see Bixby," answered straightforward Hildegarde; +"but we came still more to see you, Mrs. Brett. Indeed, we have a very +important message for you." + +And beginning at the beginning, Hildegarde unfolded the great scheme. +Mrs. Brett listened, wide-eyed, following the recital with appreciative +motions of lips and hands. When it was over, she seemed for once at a +loss for words. + +"I--well, there!" she said; and she crumpled up her apron, and then +smoothed it out again. "I--why, I don't know what _to_ say. Well! I'm +completely, as you may say, struck of a heap. I don't know what +Marthy's thinking of, I'm sure. It isn't _me_ you want, surely. You +want a woman with faculty!" + +"Of course we do!" cried both girls, laughing. "That is why we have come +to you." + +"Sho!" said Mrs. Brett, crumpling her apron again, and trying not to +look pleased. "Why, young ladies, I couldn't do it, no way in the world. +There's my chickens, you see, and my cow, let alone the house; not but +what Joel (that's my nephew) would be glad enough to take keer of 'em. +And goin' so fur away, as you may say--though 't would be pleasant to be +nigh Marthy--we was always friends, Marthy and me, since we was +girls--and preserves to make, and fall cleanin' comin' on, and help so +skurce as 'tis--why, I don't know what Marthy's thinkin' of, really I +don't. Children, too! why, I do love children, and I shouldn't never +think I had things comfortable enough for 'em; not but that's a lovely +place, pretty as ever I see. I helped Marthy clean it one spring, and +such a fancy as I took to that kitchen,--why, there! and the little room +over it; I remember of saying to Marthy, says I, a woman might live +happy in those two rooms, let alone the back yard, with all that nice +fine gravel for the chickens, I says. But there! I couldn't do it, Miss +Grahame, no way in the world. Why, I ain't got more'n half-a-dozen +aprons to my back; so now you see!" + +This last seemed such a very funny reason to give, that the three young +people could not help laughing heartily. + +"Martha has dozens and dozens of aprons, Mrs. Brett," said Hildegarde. +"She has a whole bureau full of them, because she is afraid her eyes may +give out some day, and then she will not be able to make any more. And +now, just think a moment!" She laid her hand on the good woman's arm, +and continued in her most persuasive tones: "Think of living in that +pleasant house, with the pretty room for your own, and the sunny +kitchen, and the laundry, all under your own management." + +"Set tubs!" said Mrs. Brett, in a pathetic parenthesis. "If there's one +thing I've allers hankered after, more 'n another, it's a set tub!" + +"And the dear little children playing about in the garden, and coming to +you with flowers, and looking to you as almost a second mother--" + +"Little Joel,"--cried the widow, putting her apron to her eyes, and +beginning to rock gently to and fro--"I've allus felt that blessed child +would ha' lived, if he'd ha' been left with me. There! Joel's been a +good nephew, there couldn't no one have a better; but his wife and me, +we never conjingled. She took the child away, and it peaked and pined +from that day. Well, there! the ways are mysterious!" + +"And you would take the chickens and the cow with you, of course," this +artful girl went on; "for the children must have milk and eggs, and I +never tasted more delicious milk than this of yours." + +"I've no cause to be ashamed of the cow!" said the widow, still rocking. +"There isn't a cow equal to her round Marthy's way. I've heerd Marthy +say so. Sixteen quarts she gives, and I do 'clare it's most half cream. +Jersey! there isn't many Jerseys round Marthy's way." + +"And then the comfort you would be to Martha and to dear Miss Bond!" +Rose put in. "Martha has a good deal of rheumatism in winter, you know, +and she says you are such a good nurse. She told me how you rubbed her +in her rheumatic fever. She thinks you saved her life, and I am sure you +did." + +"If I rubbed Marthy Ellen Banks one foot, I rubbed her a hundred miles!" +said Mrs. Brett, with a faint gleam in her moist eyes. "'From her +tombstun back to a well woman is a good way,' Dr. Jones says to me, 'and +that way you've rubbed Marthy Ellen, Mis' Brett!' says he. Good man Dr. +Jones is,--none better! There isn't no one round Bixby can doctor my +sciatica as he did when I was stayin' to Mis' Bond's last year. Mis' +Bond, too,--well, there! she was a mother to me. Seemed like 't was more +home there than Bixby was, since little Joel died. Mysterious the ways +is! Mr. Rawlins well?" she added, after a moment's pause. + +"Mr.--Oh, Jeremiah!" cried Hildegarde, after a moment of bewilderment. +"Jeremiah is very well, all except a cough; and, dear me! Mrs. Brett, I +haven't given you his message. 'Tell Mrs. Brett,' he said, almost the +last thing before we came away this morning,--'tell Mrs. Brett she'll +_have_ to come, to make me a treacle-posset for my cough. Not even +Martha can make treacle-posset like hers!' Those were Jeremiah's very +words, Mrs. Brett." + +A faint color stole into the widow's thin cheeks. She sat up straight, +and began to smooth out her apron. "Miss Grahame," she said +emphatically, "I verily believe you could persuade a cat out of a +bird's-nest. If it seems I'm really needed over to Bywood--I don't +hardly know how I _can_ go--but--well, there! you've come so fur, and I +do like to 'commodate; so--well, I don't really see how I can--but--I +will!" + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + +JOYOUS GARD. + + +It was the tenth day of September, and as pleasant a day as one could +wish to see. The sun shone brightly everywhere; but Hildegarde thought +that the laughing god sent his brightest golden rays down on the spot +where she was standing. The House in the Wood no longer justified its +name; for the trees had been cut away from around it,--only a few +stately pines and ancient hemlocks remaining to mount guard over the +cottage, and to make pleasant shady places on the wide, sunny lawns that +stretched before and behind it. The brook no longer murmured unseen, but +laughed now in the sunlight, and reflected every manner of pretty +thing,--fleecy cloudlet, fluttering bird or butterfly, nodding fern or +soldierly "cat-tail." + +The house itself looked alert and wide-awake, with all its windows +thrown open, and its door standing hospitably ajar, as if awaiting +welcome guests. From an upper window came a sound of singing, for Rose +was there, arranging flowers in the vases; from another direction was +heard the ring of a hammer, as Bubble gave the last strokes to a +wonderful cart which he had been making, and which was to be his +contribution to the Country Home. + +Hildegarde stood on the piazza, alone; her hands were full of flowers, +and the "laughing light" of them was reflected in her bright, lovely +face. She looked about her on the sunny greenery, on the blue shining +stream, up to the bluer sky above. "This is the happiest day of my +life!" said the girl, softly. She wondered what she had done, that all +this joy and brightness should be hers. Every one was so good to her; +every one had helped so kindly in the undertaking, from the beginning +down to this happy end. There had been a good deal to be done, of +course; but it seemed as if every hand had been outstretched to aid this +work of her heart. + +Cousin Wealthy, of course, had made it possible, and had been absorbed +in it, heart and soul, as had all the others of the household. But there +had also been so many pleasant tokens from outside. When Mrs. Brett +arrived a week before, to take charge of the house, she brought a box of +contributions from her neighbors in Bixby, to whom she had told the +story of the Country Home,--scrap-books, comforters, rag-babies, +preserves, pop-corn, pincushions, catsup, kettle-holders. Bixby had +done what it could, and the girls and Miss Wealthy and Martha were +delighted with everything; but there was much laughter when the widow +pulled out a huge bottle of Vino's Vegetable Vivifier, and presented it, +with a twinkle in her eye, as the gift of Mr. Cephas Colt. Nor had the +scattered villagers of Bywood been less generous. One good farmer had +brought a load of wood; another, some sacks of Early Rose potatoes; a +third presented a jar of June butter; a fourth, some home-made +maple-syrup. The wives and daughters had equalled those of Bixby in +their gifts of useful trifles; and Rose, who was fond of details, +calculated that there were two tidies for every chair in the house. + +The boys of the neighborhood, who had at first shown a tendency to sit +round on stumps and jeer at the proceedings, had now, at Hildegarde's +suggestion, formed themselves into a Kindling-Wood Club, under Bubble's +leadership; and they split wood every afternoon for an hour, with such +good results that Jeremiah reckoned they wouldn't need no coal round +this place; they could burn kindlin's as reckless as if they was +somebody's else hired gal! + +Then, the day before, a great cart had rumbled up to the door, bringing +a packing-case, of a shape which made Hildegarde cry out, and clap her +hands, and say, "Papa! I _know_ it is Papa!"--which for the moment +greatly disconcerted the teamster, who had no idea of carrying people's +papas round in boxes. But when the case was opened, there was the +prettiest upright piano that ever was seen; and sure enough, a note +inside the cover said that this was "for Hildegarde's Hobby, from +Hildegarde's Poppy." But more than that! the space between the piano and +the box was completely filled with picture-books,--layers and layers of +them; Walter Crane, and Caldecott, and Gordon Browne, and all the most +delightful picture-books in the world. And in each book was written "The +Rainy-Day Library;" which when Hildegarde saw, she began to cry, and +said that her mother was the most blessed creature in the world. + +But after all, the thing that had touched the girl's heart most deeply +was the arrival, this very morning, of old Galusha Pennypacker, +shuffling along with his stick, and bent almost double under the weight +of a great sack which he carried on his back. Mrs. Brett had been +looking out of the window, and announced that a crazy man was coming: +"Looks like it, anyway. Hadn't I better call Zee-rubble, Miss Grahame?" + +But Hildegarde looked out, recognized the old man, and flew to meet him. +"Good-morning, Mr. Pennypacker!" she cried cordially. "Do let me help +you with that heavy bag! There! now sit down here in the shade, for I am +sure you are very tired." + +She brought a chair quickly; and the old man sank into it, for he was +indeed exhausted by the long walk under his heavy burden. He gasped +painfully for breath; and it was not till Hildegarde had brought him +water, and fanned him diligently for some minutes, that he was able to +speak. + +"Thank ye!" he said at last, drawing out something that might once have +been a handkerchief, and wiping his wrinkled face. "It's a warm day--for +walkin'." + +"Yes, indeed it is!" Hildegarde assented. "And it is a long walk from +your house, Mr. Pennypacker. I fear it has been too much for you. Could +you not have got one of the neighbors to give you a lift?" + +"No! no!" replied the old man quickly, with a cunning gleam in his +sharp little eyes. "I'd ruther walk,--I'd ruther! Walkin' don't cost +nothin'! They'd charged me, like's not, a quarter for fetchin' on me +here. They think the old man's got money, but he hain't; no, he hain't +got one red cent,--not for them he hain't." He paused, and began +fumbling at the string of the sack. "Hearin' you was settin' up a +horspittle here," he said, "I cal'lated to bring two or three apples. +Children likes apples, don't they?" He looked up suddenly, with the same +fierce gleam which had frightened Hildegarde and Rose so when they first +saw him; but Hildegarde had no longer any fear of the singular old man. + +"Yes, they do!" she said warmly. "I don't know of anything they like so +well, Mr. Pennypacker. How very kind of you! And you came all this way +on foot, to bring them?" + +"The' warn't no shorter way!" replied old Galusha, dryly. "Thar'! I +reckon them's good apples." + +They were superb Red Astrakhans; every one, so far as Hildegarde could +see, perfect in shape and beauty. Moreover, they had all been polished +till they shone mirror-like. Hildegarde wondered what they had been +rubbed with, but dismissed the thought, as one unwise to dwell upon. + +"They's wuth money, them apples!" said the old man, after she had +thanked him again and again for the timely gift. "Money!" he repeated, +lingering on the word, as if it were pleasant to the taste. "Huh! there +ain't nobody else on the yearth I'd ha' give so much as a core of one of +'em to, 'cept you, young woman." + +"I'm sure you are extremely kind, Mr. Pennypacker!" was all Hildegarde +could say. + +"Ye've took thought for me!" said the old man. "The' ain't nobody took +thought for old G'lushe Pennypacker, round here, not for a good while. +Ye was to my place yesterday, warn't ye?" He looked up again, with a +sudden glare. + +"Yes," Hildegarde admitted, "I was; and my friend too. She knit the +stockings for you, sir. I hope you liked them." + +"Yes, yes!" said the old man, absently. "Good stockin's, good stockin's! +Nice gal she is too. But--'t was you left the book, warn't it, hey?" + +"Yes," said Hildegarde, blushing. "I am so fond of 'Robinson Crusoe' +myself, I thought you might like it too." + +"Hain't seen that book for fifty year!" said the old man. "Sot up all +last night readin' it. It'll be comp'ny to me all winter. And you--you +took thought on me!--a young, fly-away, handsome gal, and old G'lushe +Pennypacker! Wal, 't won't be forgot here, nor yet yender!" + +He gave an upward jerk of his head, and then passed his rag of a +handkerchief over his face again, and said he must be going. But he did +not go till he had had a glass of milk, and half-a-dozen of Mrs. Brett's +doughnuts, to strengthen him for his homeward walk. + +All this came back to Hildegarde, as she stood on the piazza; and as she +recalled the softened, friendly look in the old man's eyes as he bade +her good-by, she said again to herself, "This is the happiest day of my +life!" The next day would not be so happy, for Rose and Bubble were +going,--one to her home at Hartley's Glen, the other to his school in +New York; and in a fortnight she must herself be turning her face +homeward. + +How short the summer had been!--had there ever been such a flying +season?--and yet she had done very little; she had only been happy, and +enjoyed herself. Miss Wealthy, perhaps, could have told another +story,--of kind deeds and words; of hours spent in reading aloud, in +winding wools, in arranging flowers, in the thousand little +helpfulnesses by which a girl can make herself beloved and necessary in +a household. To the gentle, dreamy, delicate Rose, Hildegarde had really +_been_ the summer. Without this strong arm always round her, this strong +sunny nature, helping, cheering, amusing, how could she have come out of +the life-long habits of invalidism, and learned to face the world +standing on both feet? She could not have done it, Rose felt; and with +this feeling, she probably would not have done it. + +But, as I said, Hildegarde knew nothing of this. She had been happy, +that was all. And though she was going to her own beloved home, and to +the parents who were the greater part of the world to her, still she +would be sorry to leave this happiness even for a completer one. + +But hark! was that the sound of wheels? Yes; they were coming. + +"Cousin Wealthy!" cried the girl, running to the door. "Rose! Bubble! +Martha! Mrs. Brett! Benny! Come out, all of you! The stage is here!" + +Out they came, all running, all out of breath, save Miss Wealthy, who +knew the exact number of steps that would bring her to the exact middle +of the piazza, and took these steps with her usual gentle precision of +movement. She had no sooner taken up the position which she felt to be +the proper one for her, than round the corner came the Bywood stage,--a +long, lumbering, ramshackle vehicle, in which sat Mrs. Murray, a +kind-looking nurse, and the twelve convalescent children who were to +have the first delights of the Country Home. + +At sight of them Bubble began to wave his hat violently. "Hooray!" he +shouted. "Three cheers for the young uns!" + +"Hooray!" echoed Benny, flapping his hands about, as he had no hat to +wave. + +The children set up a feeble shout in reply, and waved heads, arms, and +legs indiscriminately. Then ensued a scene of joyous confusion. The +little ones were lifted out, kissed, and welcomed; their bundles +followed; and for a few minutes the quiet place was filled with a very +Babel of voices. + +High above them all rose the clarion tones of Benny, explaining to a +former fellow-patient his present position in life. "I don't lives +here!" he said; "I lives a little way off. I's ve boy of ve house where +I lives, and I takes care of a whole lot of womenfolks, and Jim Maria +helps me, and vere's anover boy who does fings for me. It's bully, and +I'm goin' to stay vere all my life long." + +Mrs. Murray looked quickly at Miss Wealthy. "Does he know of his +mother's death?" she asked in a low tone. + +"No!" replied Miss Wealthy. "He has almost forgotten her, poor little +lad! I fear she was not very kind to him. And I have decided to keep +him, Mrs. Murray, and to give him a happy childhood, and then send him +to a good school. He is a most lovable child, and it will be a privilege +to have him, especially as my dear young relative is to leave me soon." + +Both looked instinctively toward Hildegarde, who was standing, flushed +and radiant, the centre of a group of children, who clustered round +her, pulling at her hands and clinging to her gown. + +"What's the name of this place?" one little fellow was asking her. "I +like this place! What is its name?" + +"It is called Joyous Gard!" replied Hildegarde. "That was the name of a +beautiful castle, long and long ago, which belonged to a very brave +knight; and we think it will be a good name for your Country Home, +because we mean to make it full of joy and happiness, and yet to guard +you well in it. So Joyous Gard it is to be. Say it now, all of +you,--'Joyous Gard!'" + +And "Joyous Gard!" shouted the children, their voices echoing merrily +among the trees, and spreading away, till Rose, the romantic, wondered +if some faint tone of it might not reach a pale shade called Lancelot du +Lake, and bring him comfort where he sorrowed for his sins. + +So in Joyous Gard let us leave our Hildegarde,--in each hand a child, +around her many loving hearts, in her own heart great joy and light and +love. Let us leave her, and wish that all girls might know the cheer and +happiness that was hers, not for that day only, but through all her +days. + + +THE END. + + + + +Selections from L. C. Page & Company's Books for Young People + + +THE BLUE BONNET SERIES + + _Each large 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated, per volume_ $ 2.00 + + _The seven volumes, boxed as a set_ 14.00 + + +=A TEXAS BLUE BONNET= + +By CAROLINE E. JACOBS. + + +=BLUE BONNET'S RANCH PARTY= + +By CAROLINE E. JACOBS AND EDYTH ELLERBECK READ. + + +=BLUE BONNET IN BOSTON= + +By CAROLINE E. JACOBS AND LELA HORN RICHARDS. + + +=BLUE BONNET KEEPS HOUSE= + +By CAROLINE E. JACOBS AND LELA HORN RICHARDS. + + +=BLUE BONNET--DEBUTANTE= + +By LELA HORN RICHARDS. + + +=BLUE BONNET OF THE SEVEN STARS= + +By LELA HORN RICHARDS. + + +=BLUE BONNET'S FAMILY= + +By LELA HORN RICHARDS. + + "Blue Bonnet has the very finest kind of + wholesome, honest, lively girlishness and + cannot but make friends with every one who + meets her through these books about + her."--_Chicago Inter-Ocean._ + + "Blue Bonnet and her companions are real girls, + the kind that one would like to have in one's + home."--_New York Sun._ + + + + +=THE HENRIETTA SERIES= + +By LELA HORN RICHARDS + + _Each one volume, 12mo, illustrated_ $1.90 + +=ONLY HENRIETTA= + + "It is an inspiring story of the unfolding of + life for a young girl--a story in which there + is plenty of action to hold interest and wealth + of delicate sympathy and understanding that + appeals to the hearts of young and + old."--_Pittsburgh Leader._ + +=HENRIETTA'S INHERITANCE= + + "One of the most noteworthy stories for girls + issued this season. The life of Henrietta is + made very real, and there is enough incident in + the narrative to balance the delightful + characterization."--_Providence Journal._ + + + + +=THE BOYS' STORY OF THE RAILROAD SERIES= + +By BURTON E. STEVENSON + +_Each large 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated,_ $1.75 + +=THE YOUNG SECTION-HAND=; OR, THE ADVENTURES OF ALLAN WEST. + + "The whole range of section railroading is + covered in the story."--_Chicago Post._ + +=THE YOUNG TRAIN DISPATCHER= + + "A vivacious account of the varied and often + hazardous nature of railroad + life."--_Congregationalist._ + +=THE YOUNG TRAIN MASTER= + + "It is a book that can be unreservedly + commended to anyone who loves a good, + wholesome, thrilling, informing + yarn."--_Passaic News._ + +=THE YOUNG APPRENTICE=; OR, ALLAN WEST'S CHUM. + + "The story is intensely + interesting."--_Baltimore Sun._ + + + + +=THE DAYS OF CHIVALRY SERIES= + +=Of Worth While Classics for Boys and Girls= + + _Revised and Edited for the Modern Reader + Each large 12mo, illustrated and with a poster + jacket in full color_ $2.00 + +=THE DAYS OF CHIVALRY= + +By W. H. DAVENPORT ADAMS. + +=THE CHAPLET OF PEARLS= + +By C. M. YONGE. + +=ERLING THE BOLD= + +By R. M. BALLANTYNE. + +=WINNING HIS KNIGHTHOOD=; Or, THE ADVENTURES OF RAOULF DE GYSSAGE. + +By H. TURING BRUCE. + + "Tales which ring to the clanking of armour, + tales of marches and counter-marches, tales of + wars, but tales which bring peace; a peace and + contentment in the knowledge that right, even + in the darkest times, has survived and + conquered."--_Portland Evening Express._ + + + + +=BARBARA WINTHROP SERIES= + +By HELEN KATHERINE BROUGHALL + + _Each one volume, cloth decorative, 12mo, illustrated_ $2.00 + +=BARBARA WINTHROP AT BOARDING SCHOOL= + +=BARBARA WINTHROP AT CAMP= + +=BARBARA WINTHROP: GRADUATE= + +=BARBARA WINTHROP ABROAD= + + "Full of adventure--initiations, joys, picnics, + parties, tragedies, vacation and all. Just what + girls like, books in which 'dreams come true,' + entertaining 'gossipy' books overflowing with + conversation."--_Salt Lake City Deseret News._ + + "High ideals and a real spirit of fun underlie + the stories. They will be a decided addition to + the bookshelves of the young girl for whom a + holiday gift is contemplated."--_Los Angeles + Saturday Night._ + + + + +=DOCTOR'S LITTLE GIRL SERIES= + +By MARION AMES TAGGART + + _Each large 12mo, cloth, illustrated, per volume,_ $1.75 + +=THE DOCTOR'S LITTLE GIRL= + + "A charming story of the ups and downs of the + life of a dear little maid."--_The Churchman._ + +=SWEET NANCY:= THE FURTHER ADVENTURES OF THE DOCTOR'S LITTLE GIRL. + + "Just the sort of book to amuse, while its + influence cannot but be elevating."--_New York + Sun._ + +=NANCY, THE DOCTOR'S LITTLE PARTNER= + + "The story is sweet and fascinating, such as + many girls of wholesome tastes will + enjoy."--_Springfield Union._ + +=NANCY PORTER'S OPPORTUNITY= + + "Nancy shows throughout that she is a splendid + young woman, with plenty of pluck."--_Boston + Globe._ + +=NANCY AND THE COGGS TWINS= + + "The story is refreshing."--_New York Sun._ + + * * * * * + +Transcriber's Notes: + +Obvious punctuation errors repaired. + +In the Hildegarde-Margaret Series advertisement, the price per volume +had been blotted out by a reader and $2.00 written in. A search for +advertisements of this set costing $19.75 shows them individually at +$1.75 and the text has been changed to reflect that. + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Hildegarde's Holiday, by Laura E. Richards + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HILDEGARDE'S HOLIDAY *** + +***** This file should be named 24826.txt or 24826.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/4/8/2/24826/ + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, Emmy and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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