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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/33927-8.txt b/33927-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..493e409 --- /dev/null +++ b/33927-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5271 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Not Quite Eighteen, by Susan Coolidge + +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: Not Quite Eighteen + +Author: Susan Coolidge + +Release Date: October 14, 2010 [EBook #33927] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NOT QUITE EIGHTEEN *** + + + + +Produced by Suzanne Shell and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + + + + + + + + +NOT QUITE EIGHTEEN. + + + + +[Illustration: The fox stared at her, and she stared back at the +fox.--PAGE 16.] + + + + + NOT QUITE EIGHTEEN. + + BY SUSAN COOLIDGE, + + AUTHOR OF "WHAT KATY DID," "THE NEW YEAR'S BARGAIN," + "THE BARBERRY BUSH," "A GUERNSEY LILY," + "IN THE HIGH VALLEY," ETC. + + + BOSTON: + ROBERTS BROTHERS. + 1894. + + + + + _Copyright, 1894_, + BY ROBERTS BROTHERS. + + + University Press: + JOHN WILSON AND SON, CAMBRIDGE, U.S.A. + + + + +CONTENTS. + + + PAGE + + I. HOW BUNNY BROUGHT GOOD LUCK 7 + + II. A BIT OF WILFULNESS 30 + + III. THE WOLVES OF ST. GERVAS 42 + + IV. THREE LITTLE CANDLES 62 + + V. UNCLE AND AUNT 83 + + VI. THE CORN-BALL MONEY 111 + + VII. THE PRIZE GIRL OF THE HARNESSING CLASS 123 + + VIII. DOLLY PHONE 142 + + IX. A NURSERY TYRANT 165 + + X. WHAT THE PINK FLAMINGO DID 179 + + XI. TWO PAIRS OF EYES 200 + + XII. THE PONY THAT KEPT THE STORE 211 + + XIII. PINK AND SCARLET 227 + + XIV. DOLLY'S LESSON 239 + + XV. A BLESSING IN DISGUISE 252 + + XVI. A GRANTED WISH 269 + + + + +HOW BUNNY BROUGHT GOOD LUCK. + + +It was Midsummer's Day, that delightful point toward which the whole +year climbs, and from which it slips off like an ebbing wave in the +direction of the distant winter. No wonder that superstitious people in +old times gave this day to the fairies, for it is the most beautiful day +of all. The world seems full of bird-songs, sunshine, and flower-smells +then; storm and sorrow appear impossible things; the barest and ugliest +spot takes on a brief charm and, for the moment, seems lovely and +desirable. + +"That's a picturesque old place," said a lady on the back seat of the +big wagon in which Hiram Swift was taking his summer boarders to drive. + +They were passing a low, wide farmhouse, gray from want of paint, with a +shabby barn and sheds attached, all overarched by tall elms. The narrow +hay-field and the vegetable-patch ended in a rocky hillside, with its +steep ledges, overgrown and topped with tall pines and firs, which made +a dense green background to the old buildings. + +"I don't know about its being like a picter," said Hiram, dryly, as he +flicked away a fly from the shoulder of his horse, "but it isn't much +by way of a farm. That bit of hay-field is about all the land there is +that's worth anything; the rest is all rock. I guess the Widow Gale +doesn't take much comfort in its bein' picturesque. She'd be glad +enough to have the land made flat, if she could." + +"Oh, is that the Gale farm, where the silver-mine is said to be?" + +"Yes, marm; at least, it's the farm where the man lived that, 'cordin' +to what folks say, said he'd found a silver-mine. I don't take a great +deal of stock in the story myself." + +"A silver-mine! That sounds interesting," said a pretty girl on the +front seat, who had been driving the horses half the way, aided and +abetted by Hiram, with whom she was a prime favorite. "Tell me about it, +Mr. Swift. Is it a story, and when did it all happen?" + +"Well, I don't know as it ever did happen," responded the farmer, +cautiously. "All I know for certain is, that my father used to tell a +story that, before I was born (nigh on to sixty years ago, that must +have been), Squire Asy Allen--that used to live up to that red house on +North Street, where you bought the crockery mug, you know, Miss +Rose--come up one day in a great hurry to catch the stage, with a lump +of rock tied in his handkerchief. Old Roger Gale had found it, he said, +and they thought it was silver ore; and the Squire was a-takin' it down +to New Haven to get it analyzed. My father, he saw the rock, but he +didn't think much of it from the looks, till the Squire got back ten +days afterward and said the New Haven professor pronounced it silver, +sure enough, and a rich specimen; and any man who owned a mine of it had +his fortune made, he said. Then, of course, the township got excited, +and everybody talked silver, and there was a great to-do." + +"And why didn't they go to work on the mine at once?" asked the pretty +girl. + +"Well, you see, unfortunately, no one knew where it was, and old Roger +Gale had taken that particular day, of all others, to fall off his +hay-riggin' and break his neck, and he hadn't happened to mention to any +one before doing so where he found the rock! He was a close-mouthed old +chap, Roger was. For ten years after that, folks that hadn't anything +else to do went about hunting for the silver-mine, but they gradooally +got tired, and now it's nothin' more than an old story. Does to amuse +boarders with in the summer," concluded Mr. Swift, with a twinkle. "For +my part, I don't believe there ever was a mine." + +"But there was the piece of ore to prove it." + +"Oh, that don't prove anything, because it got lost. No one knows what +became of it. An' sixty years is long enough for a story to get +exaggerated in." + +"I don't see why there shouldn't be silver in Beulah township," remarked +the lady on the back seat. "You have all kinds of other minerals +here,--soapstone and mica and emery and tourmalines and beryls." + +"Well, ma'am, I don't see nuther, unless, mebbe, it's the Lord's will +there shouldn't be." + +"It would be so interesting if the mine could be found!" said the pretty +girl. + +"It would be _so_, especially to the Gale family,--that is, if it was +found on their land. The widow's a smart, capable woman, but it's as +much as she can do, turn and twist how she may, to make both ends meet. +And there's that boy of hers, a likely boy as ever you see, and just +hungry for book-l'arnin', the minister says. The chance of an eddication +would be just everything to him, and the widow can't give him one." + +"It's really a romance," said the pretty girl, carelessly, the wants and +cravings of others slipping off her young sympathies easily. + +Then the horses reached the top of the long hill they had been climbing, +Hiram put on the brake, and they began to grind down a hill equally +long, with a soft panorama of plumy tree-clad summits before them, +shimmering in the June sunshine. Drives in Beulah township were apt to +be rather perpendicular, however you took them. + +Some one, high up on the hill behind the farmhouse, heard the clank +of the brakes, and lifted up her head to listen. It was Hester +Gale,--a brown little girl, with quick dark eyes, and a mane of curly +chestnut hair, only too apt to get into tangles. She was just eight +years old, and to her the old farmstead, which the neighbors scorned +as worthless, was a sort of enchanted land, full of delights and +surprises,--hiding-places which no one but herself knew, rocks and +thickets where she was sure real fairies dwelt, and cubby-houses sacred +to the use of "Bunny," who was her sole playmate and companion, and the +confidant to whom she told all her plans and secrets. + +Bunny was a doll,--an old-fashioned doll, carved out of a solid piece of +hickory-wood, with a stern expression of face, and a perfectly +unyielding figure; but a doll whom Hester loved above all things. Her +mother and her mother's mother had played with Bunny, but this only made +her the dearer. + +The two sat together between the gnarled roots of an old spruce which +grew near the edge of a steep little cliff. It was one of the loneliest +parts of the rocky hillside, and the hardest to get at. Hester liked it +better than any of her other hiding-places, because no one but herself +ever came there. + +Bunny lay in her lap, and Hester was in the middle of a story, when she +stopped to listen to the wagon grinding down-hill. + +"So the little chicken said, 'Peep! Peep!' and started off to see what +the big yellow fox was like," she went on. "That was a silly thing for +her to do, wasn't it, Bunny? because foxes aren't a bit nice to +chickens. But the little chicken didn't know any better, and she +wouldn't listen to the old hens when they told her how foolish she was. +That was wrong, because it's naughty to dis--dis--apute your elders, +mother says; children that do are almost always sorry afterward. + +"Well, she hadn't gone far before she heard a rustle in the bushes on +one side. She thought it was the fox, and then she _did_ feel +frightened, you'd better believe, and all the things she meant to say to +him went straight out of her head. But it wasn't the fox that time; it +was a teeny-weeny little striped squirrel, and he just said, 'It's a +sightly day, isn't it?' and, without waiting for an answer, ran up a +tree. So the chicken didn't mind _him_ a bit. + +"Then, by and by, when she had gone a long way farther off from home, +she heard another rustle. It was just like--Oh, what's that, Bunny?" + +Hester stopped short, and I am sorry to say that Bunny never heard the +end of the chicken story, for the rustle resolved itself into--what do +you think? + +It was a fox! A real fox! + +There he stood on the hillside, gazing straight at Hester, with his +yellow brush waving behind him, and his eyes looking as sharp as the row +of gleaming teeth beneath them. Foxes were rare animals in the Beulah +region. Hester had never seen one before; but she had seen the picture +of a fox in one of Roger's books, so she knew what it was. + +The fox stared at her, and she stared back at the fox. Then her heart +melted with fear, like the heart of the little chicken, and she jumped +to her feet, forgetting Bunny, who fell from her lap, and rolled +unobserved over the edge of the cliff. The sudden movement startled the +fox, and he disappeared into the bushes with a wave of his yellow brush; +just how or where he went, Hester could not have told. + +"How sorry Roger will be that he wasn't here to see him!" was her first +thought. Her second was for Bunny. She turned, and stooped to pick up +the doll--and lo! Bunny was not there. + +High and low she searched, beneath grass tangles, under "juniper +saucers," among the stems of the thickly massed blueberries and +hardhacks, but nowhere was Bunny to be seen. She peered over the ledge, +but nothing met her eyes below but a thick growth of blackish, stunted +evergreens. This place "down below" had been a sort of terror to +Hester's imagination always, as an entirely unknown and unexplored +region; but in the cause of the beloved Bunny she was prepared to risk +anything, and she bravely made ready to plunge into the depths. + +It was not so easy to plunge, however. The cliff was ten or twelve feet +in height where she stood, and ran for a considerable distance to right +and left without getting lower. This way and that she quested, and at +last found a crevice where it was possible to scramble down,--a steep +little crevice, full of blackberry briers, which scratched her face and +tore her frock. When at last she gained the lower bank, this further +difficulty presented itself: she could not tell where she was. The +evergreen thicket nearly met over her head, the branches got into her +eyes, and buffeted and bewildered her. She could not make out the place +where she had been sitting, and no signs of Bunny could be found. At +last, breathless with exertion, tired, hot, and hopeless, she made her +way out of the thicket, and went, crying, home to her mother. + +She was still crying, and refusing to be comforted, when Roger came in +from milking. He was sorry for Hester, but not so sorry as he would have +been had his mind not been full of troubles of his own. He tried to +console her with a vague promise of helping her to look for Bunny "some +day when there wasn't so much to do." But this was cold comfort, and, in +the end, Hester went to bed heartbroken, to sob herself to sleep. + +"Mother," said Roger, after she had gone, "Jim Boies is going to his +uncle's, in New Ipswich, in September, to do chores and help round a +little, and to go all winter to the academy." + +The New Ipswich Academy was quite a famous school then, and to go there +was a great chance for a studious boy. + +"That's a bit of good luck for Jim." + +"Yes; first-rate." + +"Not quite so first-rate for you." + +"No" (gloomily). "I shall miss Jim. He's always been my best friend +among the boys. But what makes me mad is that he doesn't care a bit +about going. Mother, why doesn't good luck ever come to us Gales?" + +"It was good luck for me when you came, Roger. I don't know how I should +get along without you." + +"I'd be worth a great deal more to you if I could get a chance at any +sort of schooling. Doesn't it seem hard, Mother? There's Squire Dennis +and Farmer Atwater, and half a dozen others in this township, who are +all ready to send their boys to college, and the boys don't want to go! +Bob Dennis says that he'd far rather do teaming in the summer, and take +the girls up to singing practice at the church, than go to all the +Harvards and Yales in the world; and I, who'd give my head, almost, to +go to college, can't! It doesn't seem half right, Mother." + +"No, Roger, it doesn't; not a quarter. There are a good many things that +don't seem right in this world, but I don't know who's to mend 'em. I +can't. The only way is to dig along hard and do what's to be done as +well as you can, whatever it is, and make the best of your 'musts.' +There's always a 'must.' I suppose rich people have them as well as poor +ones." + +"Rich people's boys can go to college." + +"Yes,--and mine can't. I'd sell all we've got to send you, Roger, since +your heart is so set on it, but this poor little farm wouldn't be half +enough, even if any one wanted to buy it, which isn't likely. It's no +use talking about it, Roger; it only makes both of us feel bad.--Did you +kill the 'broilers' for the hotel?" she asked with a sudden change of +tone. + +"No, not yet." + +"Go and do it, then, right away. You'll have to carry them down early +with the eggs. Four pairs, Roger. Chickens are the best crop we can +raise on this farm." + +"If we could find Great-uncle Roger's mine, we'd eat the chickens +ourselves," said Roger, as he reluctantly turned to go. + +"Yes, and if that apple-tree'd take to bearing gold apples, we wouldn't +have to work at all. Hurry and do your chores before dark, Roger." + +Mrs. Gale was a Spartan in her methods, but, for all that, she sighed a +bitter sigh as Roger went out of the door. + +"He's such a smart boy," she told herself, "there's nothing he couldn't +do,--nothing, if he had a chance. I do call it hard. The folks who have +plenty of money to do with have dull boys; and I, who've got a bright +one, can't do anything for him! It seems as if things weren't justly +arranged." + +Hester spent all her spare time during the next week in searching for +the lost Bunny. It rained hard one day, and all the following night; she +could not sleep for fear that Bunny was getting wet, and looked so pale +in the morning that her mother forbade her going to the hill. + +"Your feet were sopping when you came in yesterday," she said; "and +that's the second apron you've torn. You'll just have to let Bunny go, +Hester; no two ways about it." + +Then Hester moped and grieved and grew thin, and at last she fell ill. +It was low fever, the doctor said. Several days went by, and she was no +better. One noon, Roger came in from haying to find his mother with her +eyes looking very much troubled. "Hester is light-headed," she said; "we +must have the doctor again." + +Roger went in to look at the child, who was lying in a little bedroom +off the kitchen. The small, flushed face on the pillow did not light up +at his approach. On the contrary, Hester's eyes, which were unnaturally +big and bright, looked past and beyond him. + +"Hessie, dear, don't you know Roger?" + +"He said he'd find Bunny for me some day," muttered the little voice; +"but he never did. Oh, I wish he would!--I wish he would! I do want her +so much!" Then she rambled on about foxes, and the old spruce-tree, and +the rocks,--always with the refrain, "I wish I had Bunny; I want her so +much!" + +"Mother, I do believe it's that wretched old doll she's fretted herself +sick over," said Roger, going back into the kitchen. "Now, I'll tell you +what! Mr. Hinsdale's going up to the town this noon, and he'll leave +word for the doctor to come; and the minute I've swallowed my dinner, +I'm going up to the hill to find Bunny. I don't believe Hessie'll get +any better till she's found." + +"Very well," said Mrs. Gale. "I suppose the hay'll be spoiled, but we've +got to get Hessie cured at any price." + +"Oh, I'll find the doll. I know about where Hessie was when she lost it. +And the hay'll take no harm. I only got a quarter of the field cut, and +it's good drying weather." + +Roger made haste with his dinner. His conscience pricked him as he +remembered his neglected promise and his indifference to Hester's +griefs; he felt in haste to make amends. He went straight to the old +spruce, which, he had gathered from Hester's rambling speech, was the +scene of Bunny's disappearance. It was easily found, being the oldest +and largest on the hillside. + +Roger had brought a stout stick with him, and now, leaning over the +cliff edge, he tried to poke with it in the branches below, while +searching for the dolly. But the stick was not long enough, and slipped +through his fingers, disappearing suddenly and completely through the +evergreens. + +"Hallo!" cried Roger. "There must be a hole there of some sort. Bunny's +at the bottom of it, no doubt. Here goes to find her!" + +His longer legs made easy work of the steep descent which had so puzzled +his little sister. Presently he stood, waist-deep, in tangled hemlock +boughs, below the old spruce. He parted the bushes in advance, and moved +cautiously forward, step by step. He felt a cavity just before him, but +the thicket was so dense that he could see nothing. + +Feeling for his pocket-knife, which luckily was a stout one, he stood +still, cutting, slashing, and breaking off the tough boughs, and +throwing them on one side. It was hard work, but after ten minutes a +space was cleared which let in a ray of light, and, with a hot, red face +and surprised eyes, Roger Gale stooped over the edge of a rocky cavity, +on the sides of which something glittered and shone. He swung himself +over the edge, and dropped into the hole, which was but a few feet deep. +His foot struck on something hard as he landed. He stooped to pick it +up, and his hand encountered a soft substance. He lifted both objects +out together. + +The soft substance was a doll's woollen frock. There, indeed, was the +lost Bunny, looking no whit the worse for her adventures, and the hard +thing on which her wooden head had lain was a pickaxe,--an old iron +pick, red with rust. Three letters were rudely cut on the handle,--R. P. +G. They were Roger's own initials. Roger Perkins Gale. It had been his +father's name also, and that of the great-uncle after whom they both +were named. + +With an excited cry, Roger stooped again, and lifted out of the hole a +lump of quartz mingled with ore. Suddenly he realized where he was and +what he had found. This was the long lost silver-mine, whose finding and +whose disappearance had for so many years been a tradition in the +township. Here it was that old Roger Gale had found his "speciment," +knocked off probably with that very pick, and, covering up all traces of +his discovery, had gone sturdily off to his farm-work, to meet his death +next week on the hay-rigging, with the secret locked within his breast. +For sixty years the evergreen thicket had grown and toughened and +guarded the hidden cavity beneath its roots; and it might easily have +done so for sixty years longer, if Bunny,--little wooden Bunny, with her +lack-lustre eyes and expressionless features,--had not led the way into +its tangles. + +Hester got well. When Roger placed the doll in her arms, she seemed to +come to herself, fondled and kissed her, and presently dropped into a +satisfied sleep, from which she awoke conscious and relieved. The "mine" +did not prove exactly a mine,--it was not deep or wide enough for that; +but the ore in it was rich in quality, and the news of its finding made +a great stir in the neighborhood. Mrs. Gale was offered a price for her +hillside which made her what she considered a rich woman, and she was +wise enough to close with the offer at once, and neither stand out for +higher terms nor risk the chance of mining on her own account. She and +her family left the quiet little farmhouse soon after that, and went to +live in Worcester. Roger had all the schooling he desired, and made +ready for Harvard and the law-school, where he worked hard, and laid +the foundations of what has since proved a brilliant career. You may be +sure that Bunny went to Worcester also, treated and regarded as one of +the most valued members of the family. Hester took great care of her, +and so did Hester's little girl later on; and even Mrs. Gale spoke +respectfully of her always, and treated her with honor. For was it not +Bunny who broke the long spell of evil fate, and brought good luck back +to the Gale family? + + + + +A BIT OF WILFULNESS. + + +There was a great excitement in the Keene's pleasant home at Wrentham, +one morning, about three years ago. The servants were hard at work, +making everything neat and orderly. The children buzzed about like +active flies, for in the evening some one was coming whom none of them +had as yet seen,--a new mamma, whom their father had just married. + +The three older children remembered their own mamma pretty well; to the +babies, she was only a name. Janet, the eldest, recollected her best of +all, and the idea of somebody coming to take her place did not please +her at all. This was not from a sense of jealousy for the mother who +was gone, but rather from a jealousy for herself; for since Mrs. Keene's +death, three years before, Janet had done pretty much as she liked, and +the idea of control and interference aroused within her, in advance, the +spirit of resistance. + +Janet's father was a busy lawyer, and had little time to give to the +study of his children's characters. He liked to come home at night, +after a hard day at his office, or in the courts, and find a nicely +arranged table and room, and a bright fire in the grate, beside which he +could read his newspaper without interruption, just stopping now and +then to say a word to the children, or have a frolic with the younger +ones before they went to bed. Old Maria, who had been nurse to all the +five in turn, managed the housekeeping; and so long as there was no +outward disturbance, Mr. Keene asked no questions. + +He had no idea that Janet, in fact, ruled the family. She was only +twelve, but she had the spirit of a dictator, and none of the little +ones dared to dispute her will or to complain. In fact, there was not +often cause for complaint. When Janet was not opposed, she was both kind +and amusing. She had much sense and capacity for a child of her years, +and her brothers and sisters were not old enough to detect the mistakes +which she sometimes made. + +And now a stepmother was coming to spoil all this, as Janet thought. Her +meditations, as she dusted the china and arranged the flowers, ran +something after this fashion: + +"She's only twenty-one, Papa said, and that's only nine years older than +I am, and nine years isn't much. I'm not going to call her 'Mamma,' +anyway. I shall call her 'Jerusha,' from the very first; for Maria said +that Jessie was only a nickname, and I hate nicknames. I know she'll +want me to begin school next fall, but I don't mean to, for she don't +know anything about the schools here, and I can judge better than she +can. There, that looks nice!" putting a tall spike of lilies in a pale +green vase. "Now I'll dress baby and little Jim, and we shall all be +ready when they come." + +It was exactly six, that loveliest hour of a lovely June day, when the +carriage stopped at the gate. Mr. Keene helped his wife out, and looked +eagerly toward the piazza, on which the five children were grouped. + +"Well, my dears," he cried, "how do you do? Why don't you come and kiss +your new mamma?" + +They all came obediently, pretty little Jim and baby Alice, hand in +hand, then Harry and Mabel, and, last of all, Janet. The little ones +shyly allowed themselves to be kissed, saying nothing, but Janet, true +to her resolution, returned her stepmother's salute in a matter-of-fact +way, kissed her father, and remarked: + +"Do come in, Papa; Jerusha must be tired!" + +Mr. Keene gave an amazed look at his wife. The corners of her mouth +twitched, and Janet thought wrathfully, "I do believe she is laughing at +me!" But Mrs. Keene stifled the laugh, and, taking little Alice's hand, +led the way into the house. + +"Oh, how nice, how pretty!" were her first words. "Look at the flowers, +James! Did you arrange them, Janet? I suspect you did." + +"Yes," said Janet; "I did them all." + +"Thank you, dear," said Mrs. Keene, and stooped to kiss her again. It +was an affectionate kiss, and Janet had to confess to herself that this +new--person was pleasant looking. She had pretty brown hair and eyes, a +warm glow of color in a pair of round cheeks, and an expression at once +sweet and sensible and decided. It was a face full of attraction; the +younger children felt it, and began to sidle up and cuddle against the +new mamma. Janet felt the attraction, too, but she resisted it. + +"Don't squeeze Jerusha in that way," she said to Mabel; "you are +creasing her jacket. Jim, come here, you are in the way." + +"Janet," said Mr. Keene, in a voice of displeasure, "what do you mean by +calling your mother 'Jerusha'?" + +"She isn't my real mother," explained Janet, defiantly. "I don't want to +call her 'Mamma;' she's too young." + +Mrs. Keene laughed,--she couldn't help it. + +"We will settle by and by what you shall call me," she said. "But, +Janet, it can't be Jerusha, for that is not my name. I was baptized +Jessie." + +"I shall call you Mrs. Keene, then," said Janet, mortified, but +persistent. Her stepmother looked pained, but she said no more. + +None of the other children made any difficulty about saying "Mamma" to +this sweet new friend. Jessie Keene was the very woman to "mother" a +family of children. Bright and tender and firm all at once, she was +playmate to them as well as authority, and in a very little while they +all learned to love her dearly,--all but Janet; and even she, at times, +found it hard to resist this influence, which was at the same time so +strong and so kind. + +Still, she did resist, and the result was constant discomfort to both +parties. To the younger children the new mamma brought added happiness, +because they yielded to her wise and reasonable authority. To Janet she +brought only friction and resentment, because she would not yield. + +So two months passed. Late in August, Mr. and Mrs Keene started on a +short journey which was to keep them away from home for two days. Just +as the carriage was driving away, Mrs. Keene suddenly said,-- + +"Oh, Janet! I forgot to say that I would rather you didn't go see Ellen +Colton while we are away, or let any of the other children. Please tell +nurse about it." + +"Why mustn't I?" demanded Janet. + +"Because--" began her mother, but Mr. Keene broke in. + +"Never mind 'becauses,' Jessie; we must be off. It's enough for you, +Janet, that your mother orders it. And see that you do as she says." + +"It's a shame!" muttered Janet, as she slowly went back to the house. "I +always have gone to see Ellen whenever I liked. No one ever stopped me +before. I don't think it's a bit fair; and I wish Papa wouldn't speak to +me like that before--her." + +Gradually she worked herself into a strong fit of ill-temper. All day +long she felt a growing sense of injury, and she made up her mind not to +bear it. Next morning, in a towering state of self-will, she marched +straight down to the Coltons, resolved at least to find out the meaning +of this vexatious prohibition. + +No one was on the piazza, and Janet ran up-stairs to Ellen's room, +expecting to find her studying her lessons. + +No; Ellen was in the bed, fast asleep. Janet took a story-book, and sat +down beside her. "She'll be surprised when she wakes up," she thought. + +The book proved interesting, and Janet read on for nearly half an hour +before Mrs. Colton came in with a cup and spoon in her hand. She gave a +scream when she saw Janet. + +"Mercy!" she cried, "what are you doing here? Didn't your ma tell you? +Ellen's got scarlet-fever." + +"No, she didn't tell me _that_. She only said I mustn't come here." + +"And why did you come?" + +Somehow Janet found it hard to explain, even to herself, why she had +been so determined not to obey. + +Very sorrowfully she walked homeward. She had sense enough to know how +dreadful might be the result of her disobedience, and she felt humble +and wretched. "Oh, if only I hadn't!" was the language of her heart. + +The little ones had gone out to play. Janet hurried to her own room, and +locked the door. + +"I won't see any of them till Papa comes," she thought. "Then perhaps +they won't catch it from me." + +She watched from the window till Maria came out to hang something on the +clothesline, and called to her. + +"I'm not coming down to dinner," she said. "Will you please bring me +some, and leave it by my door? No, I'm not ill, but there are reasons. +I'd rather not tell anybody about them but Mamma." + +"Sakes alive!" said old Maria to herself, "she called missus 'Mamma.' +The skies must be going to fall." + +Mrs. Keene's surprise may be imagined at finding Janet thus, in a state +of voluntary quarantine. + +"I am so sorry," she said, when she had listened to her confession. +"Most sorry of all for you, my child, because you may have to bear the +worst penalty. But it was brave and thoughtful in you to shut yourself +up to spare the little ones, dear Janet." + +"Oh, Mamma!" cried Janet, bursting into tears. "How kind you are not to +scold me! I have been so horrid to you always." All the pride and +hardness were melted out of her now, and for the first time she clung to +her stepmother with a sense of protection and comfort. + +Janet said afterwards, that the fortnight which she spent in her room, +waiting to know if she had caught the fever, was one of the nicest times +she ever had. The children and the servants, and even Papa, kept away +from her, but Mrs. Keene came as often and stayed as long as she could; +and, thrown thus upon her sole companionship, Janet found out the worth +of this dear, kind stepmother. She did _not_ have scarlet-fever, and at +the end of three weeks was allowed to go back to her old ways, but with +a different spirit. + +"I can't think why I didn't love you sooner," she told Mamma once. + +"I think I know," replied Mrs. Keene, smiling. "That stiff little will +was in the way. You willed not to like me, and it was easy to obey your +will; but now you will to love me, and loving is as easy as unloving +was." + + + + +THE WOLVES OF ST. GERVAS. + + +There never seemed a place more in need of something to make it merry +than was the little Swiss hamlet of St. Gervas toward the end of March, +some years since. + +The winter had been the hardest ever known in the Bernese Oberland. Ever +since November the snow had fallen steadily, with few intermissions, and +the fierce winds from the Breithorn and the St. Theodule Pass had blown +day and night, and the drifts deepened in the valleys, and the icicles +on the eaves of the chalets grown thicker and longer. The old wives had +quoted comforting saws about a "white Michaelmas making a brown +Easter;" but Easter was at hand now, and there were no signs of +relenting yet. + +Week after week the strong men had sallied forth with shovels and +pickaxes to dig out the half-buried dwellings, and to open the paths +between them, which had grown so deep that they seemed more like +trenches than footways. + +Month after month the intercourse between neighbors had become more +difficult and meetings less frequent. People looked over the white +wastes at each other, the children ran to the doors and shouted messages +across the snow, but no one was brave enough to face the cold and the +drifts. + +Even the village inn was deserted. Occasionally some hardy wayfarer came +by and stopped for a mug of beer and to tell Dame Ursel, the landlady, +how deep the snows were, how black clouds lay to the north, betokening +another fall, and that the shoulders and flanks of the Matterhorn were +whiter than man had ever seen them before. Then he would struggle on +his way, and perhaps two or three days would pass before another guest +crossed the threshold. + +It was a sad change for the Kröne, whose big sanded kitchen was usually +crowded with jolly peasants, and full of laughter and jest, the clinking +of glasses, and the smoke from long pipes. Dame Ursel felt it keenly. + +But such jolly meetings were clearly impossible now. The weather was too +hard. Women could not easily make their way through the snow, and they +dared not let the children play even close to the doors; for as the wind +blew strongly down from the sheltering forest on the hill above, which +was the protection of St. Gervas from landslides and avalanches, shrill +yelping cries would ever and anon be heard, which sounded very near. The +mothers listened with a shudder, for it was known that the wolves, +driven by hunger, had ventured nearer to the hamlet than they had ever +before done, and were there just above on the hillside, waiting to make +a prey of anything not strong enough to protect itself against them. + +"Three pigs have they carried off since Christmas," said Mère Kronk, +"and one of those the pig of a widow! Two sheep and a calf have they +also taken; and only night before last they all but got at the Alleene's +cow. Matters have come to a pass indeed in St. Gervas, if cows are to be +devoured in our very midst! Toinette and Pertal, come in at once! Thou +must not venture even so far as the doorstep unless thy father be along, +and he with his rifle over his shoulder, if he wants me to sleep of +nights." + +"Oh, dear!" sighed little Toinette for the hundredth time. "How I wish +the dear summer would come! Then the wolves would go away, and we could +run about as we used, and Gretchen Slaut and I go to the Alp for +berries. It seems as if it had been winter forever and ever. I haven't +seen Gretchen or little Marie for two whole weeks. _Their_ mother, too, +is fearful of the wolves." + +All the mothers in St. Gervas were fearful of the wolves. + +The little hamlet was, as it were, in a state of siege. Winter, the +fierce foe, was the besieger. Month by month he had drawn his lines +nearer, and made them stronger; the only hope was in the rescue which +spring might bring. Like a beleaguered garrison, whose hopes and +provisions are running low, the villagers looked out with eager eyes for +the signs of coming help, and still the snows fell, and the help did not +come. + +How fared it meanwhile in the forest slopes above? + +It is not a sin for a wolf to be hungry, any more than it is for a man; +and the wolves of St. Gervas were ravenous indeed. All their customary +supplies were cut off. The leverets and marmots, and other small +animals on which they were accustomed to prey, had been driven by the +cold into the recesses of their hidden holes, from which they did not +venture out. There was no herbage to tempt the rabbits forth, no tender +birch growths for the strong gray hares. + +No doubt the wolves talked the situation over in their wolfish language, +realized that it was a desperate one, and planned the daring forays +which resulted in the disappearance of the pigs and sheep and the attack +on the Alleene's cow. The animals killed all belonged to outlying houses +a little further from the village than the rest; but the wolves had +grown bold with impunity, and, as Mère Kronk said, there was no knowing +at what moment they might make a dash at the centre of the hamlet. + +I fear they would have enjoyed a fat little boy or girl if they could +have come across one astray on the hillside, near their haunts, very +much. But no such luck befell them. The mothers of St. Gervas were too +wary for that, and no child went out after dark, or ventured more than a +few yards from the open house-door, even at high noon. + +"Something must be done," declared Johann Vecht, the bailiff. "We are +growing sickly and timorous. My wife hasn't smiled for a month. She +talks of nothing but snow and wolves, and it is making the children +fearful. My Annerle cried out in her sleep last night that she was being +devoured, and little Kasper woke up and cried too. Something must be +done!" + +"Something must indeed be done!" repeated Solomon, the forester. "We are +letting the winter get the better of us, and losing heart and courage. +We must make an effort to get together in the old neighborly way; that's +what we want." + +This conversation took place at the Kröne, and here the landlady, who +was tired of empty kitchen and scant custom, put in her word:-- + +"You are right, neighbors. What we need is to get together, and feast +and make merry, forgetting the hard times. Make your plans, and trust me +to carry them out to the letter. Is it a feast that you decide upon? I +will cook it. Is it a _musiker fest_? My Carl, there, can play the +zither with any other, no matter whom it be, and can sing. _Himmel_! how +he can sing! Command me! I will work my fingers to the bone rather than +you shall not be satisfied." + +"Aha, the sun!" cried Solomon; for as the landlady spoke, a pale yellow +ray shot through the pane and streamed over the floor. "That is a good +omen. Dame Ursel, thou art right. A jolly merrymaking is what we all +want. We will have one, and thou shalt cook the supper according to thy +promise." + +Several neighbors had entered the inn kitchen since the talk began, so +that quite a company had collected,--more than had got together since +the mass on Christmas Day. All were feeling cheered by the sight of the +sunshine; it seemed a happy moment to propose the merrymaking. + +So it was decided then and there that a supper should be held that day +week at the Kröne, men and women both to be invited,--all, in fact, who +could pay and wished to come. It seemed likely that most of the +inhabitants of St. Gervas would be present, such enthusiasm did the plan +awake in young and old. The week's delay would allow time to send to the +villagers lower down in the valley for a reinforcement of tobacco, for +the supply of that essential article was running low, and what was a +feast without tobacco? + +"We shall have a quarter of mutton," declared the landlady. "Neils +Austerman is to kill next Monday, and I will send at once to bespeak +the hind-quarter. That will insure a magnificent roast. Three fat geese +have I also, fit for the spit, and four hens. Oh, I assure you, my +masters, that there shall be no lack on my part! My Fritz shall get a +large mess of eels from the Lake. He fishes through the ice, as thou +knowest, and is lucky; the creatures always take his hook. Fried eels +are excellent eating! You will want a plenty of them. Three months +_maigre_ is good preparation for a feast. Wine and beer we have in +plenty in the cellar, and the cheese I shall cut is as a cartwheel for +bigness. Bring you the appetites, my masters, and I will engage that the +supply is sufficient." + +The landlady rubbed her hands as she spoke, with an air of joyful +anticipation. + +"My mouth waters already with thy list," declared Kronk. "I must hasten +home and tell my dame of the plan. It will raise her spirits, poor soul, +and she is sadly in need of cheering." + +The next week seemed shorter than any week had seemed since Michaelmas. +True, the weather was no better. The brief sunshine had been followed by +a wild snowstorm, and the wind was still blowing furiously. + +But now there was something to talk and think about besides weather. +Everybody was full of the forthcoming feast. Morning after morning Fritz +of the Kröne could be seen sitting beside his fishing-holes on the +frozen lake, patiently letting down his lines, and later, climbing the +hill, his basket laden with brown and wriggling eels. Everybody crowded +to the windows to watch him,--the catch was a matter of public interest. + +Three hardy men on snow-shoes, with guns over their shoulders, had +ventured down to St. Nicklaus, and returned, bringing the wished-for +tobacco and word that the lower valleys were no better off than the +upper, that everything was buried in snow, and no one had got in from +the Rhone valley for three weeks or more. + +Anxiously was the weather watched as the day of the feast drew near; and +when the morning dawned, every one gave a sigh of relief that it did not +snow. It was gray and threatening, but the wind had veered, and blew +from the southwest. It was not nearly so cold, and a change seemed at +hand. + +The wolves of St. Gervas were quite as well aware as the inhabitants +that something unusual was going forward. + +From their covert in the sheltering wood they watched the stir and +excitement, the running to and fro, the columns of smoke which streamed +upward from the chimneys of the inn. As the afternoon drew on, strange +savory smells were wafted upward by the strong-blowing wind,--smells of +frying and roasting, and hissing fat. + +"Oh, how it smells! How good it does smell!" said one wolf. He snuffed +the wind greedily, then threw back his head and gave vent to a long +"O-w!" + +The other wolves joined in the howl. + +"What can it be? Oh, how hungry it makes me!" cried one of the younger +ones. "O-w-w-w!" + +"What a dreadful noise those creatures are making up there," remarked +Frau Kronk as, under the protection of her stalwart husband, she hurried +her children along the snow path toward the Kröne. "They sound so +hungry! I shall not feel really safe till we are all at home again, with +the door fast barred." + +But she forgot her fears when the door of the inn was thrown hospitably +open as they drew near, and the merry scene inside revealed itself. + +The big sanded kitchen had been dressed with fir boughs, and was +brightly lighted with many candles. At the great table in the midst sat +rows of men and women, clad in their Sunday best. The men were smoking +long pipes, tall mugs of beer stood before everybody, and a buzz of +talk and laughter filled the place. + +Beyond, in the wide chimney, blazed a glorious fire, and about and over +it the supper could be seen cooking. The quarter of mutton, done to a +turn, hung on its spit, and on either side of it sputtered the geese and +the fat hens, brown and savory, and smelling delicious. Over the fire on +iron hooks hung a great kettle of potatoes and another of cabbage. + +On one side of the hearth knelt Gretel, the landlord's daughter, +grinding coffee, while on the other her brother Fritz brandished an +immense frying-pan heaped with sizzling eels, which sent out the loudest +smells of all. + +The air of the room was thick with the steam of the fry mingled with the +smoke of the pipes. A fastidious person might have objected to it as +hard to breathe, but the natives of St. Gervas were not fastidious, and +found no fault whatever with the smells and the smoke which, to them, +represented conviviality and good cheer. Even the dogs under the table +were rejoicing in it, and sending looks of expectation toward the +fireplace. + +"Welcome, welcome!" cried the jolly company as the Kronks appeared. +"Last to come is as well off as first, if a seat remains, and the supper +is still uneaten. Sit thee down, Dame, while the young ones join the +other children in the little kitchen. Supper is all but ready, and a +good one too, as all noses testify. Those eels smell rarely. It is but +to fetch the wine now, and then fall to, eh, Landlady?" + +"Nor shall the wine be long lacking!" cried Dame Ursel, snatching up a +big brown pitcher. "Sit thee down, Frau Kronk. That place beside thy +gossip Barbe was saved for thee. 'Tis but to go to the cellar and +return, and all will be ready. Stir the eels once more, Fritz; and +thou, Gretchen, set the coffee-pot on the coals. I shall be back in the +twinkling of an eye." + +There was a little hungry pause. From the smaller kitchen, behind, the +children's laughter could be heard. + +"It is good to be in company again," said Frau Kronk, sinking into her +seat with a sigh of pleasure. + +"Yes, so we thought,--we who got up the feast," responded Solomon, the +forester. "'Neighbors,' says I, 'we are all getting out of spirits with +so much cold and snow, and we must rouse ourselves and do something.' +'Yes,' says they, 'but what?' 'Nothing can be plainer,' says I, 'we +must'--_Himmel_! what is that?" + +What was it, indeed? + +For even as Solomon spoke, the heavy door of the kitchen burst open, +letting in a whirl of cold wind and sleet, and letting in something else +as well. + +For out of the darkness, as if blown by the wind, a troop of dark swift +shapes darted in. + +They were the wolves of St. Gervas, who, made bold by hunger, and +attracted and led on by the strong fragrance of the feast, had forgotten +their usual cowardice, and, stealing from the mountain-side and through +the deserted streets of the hamlet, had made a dash at the inn. + +There were not less than twenty of them; there seemed to be a hundred. + +As if acting by a preconcerted plan, they made a rush at the fireplace. +The guests sat petrified round the table, with their dogs cowering at +their feet, and no one stirred or moved, while the biggest wolf, who +seemed the leader of the band, tore the mutton from the spit, while the +next in size made a grab at the fat geese and the fowls, and the rest +seized upon the eels, hissing hot as they were, in the pan. Gretchen and +Fritz sat in their respective corners of the hearth, paralyzed with +fright at the near, snapping jaws and the fierce red eyes which glared +at them. + +Then, overturning the cabbage-pot as they went, the whole pack whirled, +and sped out again into the night, which seemed to swallow them up all +in a moment. + +And still the guests sat as if turned to stone, their eyes fixed upon +the door, through which the flakes of the snow-squall were rapidly +drifting; and no one had recovered voice to utter a word, when Dame +Ursel, rosy and beaming, came up from the cellar with her brimming +pitcher. + +"Why is the door open?" she demanded. Then her eyes went over to the +fireplace, where but a moment before the supper had been. Had been; for +not an eatable article remained except the potatoes and the cabbages and +cabbage water on the hearth. From far without rang back a long howl +which had in it a note of triumph. + +This was the end of the merrymaking. The guests were too startled and +terrified to remain for another supper, even had there been time to cook +one. Potatoes, black bread, and beer remained, and with these the braver +of the guests consoled themselves, while the more timorous hurried home, +well protected with guns, to barricade their doors, and rejoice that it +was their intended feast and not themselves which was being discussed at +that moment by the hungry denizens of the forest above. + +There was a great furbishing up of bolts and locks next day, and a +fitting of stout bars to doors which had hitherto done very well without +such safeguards; but it was a long time before any inhabitant of St. +Gervas felt it safe to go from home alone, or without a rifle over his +shoulder. + +So the wolves had the best of the merrymaking, and the villagers +decidedly the worst. Still, the wolves were not altogether to be +congratulated; for, stung by their disappointment and by the unmerciful +laughter and ridicule of the other villages, the men of St. Gervas +organized a great wolf-hunt later in the spring, and killed such a +number that to hear a wolf howl has become a rare thing in that part of +the Oberland. + +"Ha! ha! my fine fellow, you are the one that made off with our mutton +so fast," said the stout forester, as he stripped the skin from the +largest of the slain. "Your days for mutton are over, my friend. It will +be one while before you and your thievish pack come down again to +interrupt Christian folk at their supper!" + +But, in spite of Solomon's bold words, the tale of the frustrated feast +has passed into a proverb; and to-day in the neighboring chalets and +hamlets you may hear people say, "Don't count on your mutton till it's +in your mouth, or it may fare with you as with the merry-makers at St. +Gervas." + + + + +THREE LITTLE CANDLES. + + +The winter dusk was settling down upon the old farmhouse where three +generations of Marshes had already lived and died. It stood on a gentle +rise of ground above the Kittery sands,--a low, wide, rambling +structure, outgrowth of the gradual years since great-grandfather Marsh, +in the early days of the colony, had built the first log-house, and so +laid the foundation of the settlement. + +This log-house still existed. It served as a lean-to for the larger +building, and held the buttery, the "out-kitchen" for rougher work, and +the woodshed. Moss and lichens clustered thickly between the old logs, +to which time had communicated a rich brown tint; a mat of luxuriant +hop-vine clothed the porch, and sent fantastic garlands up to the +ridgepole. The small heavily-puttied panes in the windows had taken on +that strange iridescence which comes to glass with the lapse of time, +and glowed, when the light touched them at a certain angle, with odd +gleams of red, opal, and green-blue. + +On one of the central panes was an odd blur or cloud. Cynthia Marsh +liked to "play" that it was a face,--the face of a girl who used to +crawl out of that window in the early days of the house, but had long +since grown up and passed away. It was rather a ghostly playmate, but +Cynthia enjoyed her. + +This same imaginative little Cynthia was sitting with her brother and +sister in the "new kitchen," which yet was a pretty old one, and had +rafters overhead, and bunches of herbs and strings of dried apples tied +to them. It was still the days of pot-hooks and trammels, and a kettle +of bubbling mush hung on the crane over the fire, which smelt very good. +Every now and then Hepzibah, the old servant, would come and give it a +stir, plunging her long spoon to the very bottom of the pot. It was the +"Children's Hour," though no Longfellow had as yet given the pretty name +to that delightful time between daylight and dark, when the toils of the +day are over, and even grown people can fold their busy hands and rest +and talk and love each other, with no sense of wasted time to spoil +their pleasure. + +"I say," began Reuben, who, if he had lived to-day, would have put on +his cards "Reuben Marsh, 4th," "what do you think? We're going to have +our little candles to-night. Aunt Doris said that mother said so. Isn't +that famous!" + +"Are we really?" cried Cynthia, clasping her hands. "How glad I am! It's +more than a year since we had any little candles, and though I've tried +to be good, I was so afraid when you broke the oil-lamp, the other day, +that it would put them off. I do love them so!" + +"How many candles may we have?" asked little Eunice. + +"Oh, there are only three,--one for each of us. Mother gave the rest +away, you know. Have you made up any story yet, Eunice?" + +"I did make one, but I've forgotten part of it. It was a great while +ago, when I thought we were surely going to get the candles, and then +Reuben had that quarrel with Friend Amos's son, and mother would not let +us have them. She said a boy who gave place to wrath did not deserve a +little candle." + +"I know," said Reuben, penitently. "But that was a great while ago, and +I've not given place to wrath since. You must begin and think of your +story very hard, Eunice, or the candle will burn out while you are +remembering it." + +These "little candles," for the amusement of children, were an ancient +custom in New England, long practised in the Marsh family. When the +great annual candle-dipping took place, and the carefully saved tallow, +with its due admixture of water and bayberry wax for hardness, was made +hot in the kettle, and the wicks, previously steeped in alum, were tied +in bunches so that no two should touch each other, and dipped and dried, +and dipped again, at the end of each bundle was hung two or three tiny +candles, much smaller than the rest. These were rewards for the children +when they should earn them by being unusually good. They were lit at +bedtime, and, by immemorial law, so long as the candles burned, the +children might tell each other ghost or fairy stories, which at other +times were discouraged, as having a bad effect on the mind. This +privilege was greatly valued, and the advent of the little candles made +a sort of holiday, when holidays were few and far between. + +"I suppose Reuben will have his candle first, as he is the oldest," said +Eunice. + +"Mother said last year that we should have them all three on the same +night," replied Cynthia. "She said she would rather that we lay awake +till half-past nine for once, than till half-past eight for three times. +It's much nicer, I think. It's like having plenty to eat at one dinner, +instead of half-enough several days running. Eunice, you'd better burn +your candle first, I think, because you get sleepy a great deal sooner +than Reuby or I do. You needn't light it till after you're in bed, you +know, and that will make it last longer. When it's done, I'll hurry and +go to bed too, and then we'll light mine; and Reuben can do the same, +and if he leaves his door open, we shall hear his story perfectly well. +Oh, what fun it will be! I wish there were ever and ever so many little +candles,--a hundred, at the very least!" + +"Hepsy, ain't supper nearly ready? We're in such a hurry to-night!" said +Eunice. + +"Why, what are you in a hurry about?" demanded Hepsy, giving a last stir +to the mush, which had grown deliciously thick. + +"We want to go to bed early." + +"That's a queer reason! You're not so sharp set after bed, as a general +thing. Well, the mush is done. Reuby, ring the bell at the shed door, +and as soon as the men come in, we'll be ready." + +It was a good supper. The generous heat of the great fireplace in the +Marsh kitchen seemed to communicate a special savor of its own to +everything that was cooked before it, as if the noble hickory logs lent +a forest flavor to the food. The brown bread and beans and the squash +pies from the deep brick oven were excellent; and the "pumpkin sweets," +from the same charmed receptacle, had come out a deep rich red color, +jellied with juice to their cores. Nothing could have improved them, +unless it were the thick yellow cream which Mrs. Marsh poured over each +as she passed it. The children ate as only hearty children can eat, but +the recollection of the little candles was all the time in their minds, +and the moment that Reuben had finished his third apple he began to +fidget. + +"Mayn't we go to bed now?" he asked. + +"Not till father has returned thanks," said his mother, rebukingly. "You +are glad enough to take the gifts of the Lord, Reuben. You should be +equally ready to pay back the poor tribute of a decent gratitude." + +Reuben sat abashed while Mr. Marsh uttered the customary words, which +was rather a short prayer than a long grace. The boy did not dare to +again allude to the candles, but stood looking sorry and shamefaced, +till his mother, laying her hand indulgently on his shoulder, slipped +the little candle in his fingers. + +"Thee didn't mean it, dear, I know," she whispered. "It's natural enough +that thee shouldst be impatient. Now take thy candle, and be off. +Cynthia, Eunice, here are the other two, and remember, all of you, that +not a word must be told of the stories when once the candles burn out. +This is the test of obedience. Be good children, and I'll come up later +to see that all is safe." + +Mrs. Marsh was of Quaker stock, but she only reverted to the once +familiar _thee_ and _thou_ at times when she felt particularly kind and +tender. The children liked to have her do so. It meant that mother loved +them more than usual. + +The bedrooms over the kitchen, in which the children slept, were very +plain, with painted floors and scant furniture; but they were used to +them, and missed nothing. The moon was shining, so that little Eunice +found no difficulty in undressing without a light. As soon as she was in +bed, she called to the others, who were waiting in Reuben's room, "I'm +all ready!" + +A queer clicking noise followed. It was made by Reuben's striking the +flint of the tinder-box. In another moment the first of the little +candles was lighted. They fetched it in; and the others sat on the foot +of the bed while Eunice, raised on her pillow, with red, excited cheeks, +began:-- + +"I've remembered all about my story, and this is it: Once there was a +Fairy. He was not a bad fairy, but a very good one. One day he broke his +wing, and the Fairy King said he mustn't come to court any more till he +got it mended. This was very hard, because glue and things like that +don't stick to Fairies' wings, you know." + +"Couldn't he have tied it up and boiled it in milk?" asked Cynthia, who +had once seen a saucer so treated, with good effect. + +"Why, Cynthia Marsh! Do you suppose Fairies like to have their wings +boiled? I never! Of course they don't! Well, the poor Fairy did not +know what to do. He hopped away, for he could not fly, and pretty soon +he met an old woman. + +"'Goody,' said he, 'can you tell me what will mend a Fairy's broken +wing?' + +"'Is it your wing that is broken?' asked the old woman. + +"'Yes,' said the Fairy, speaking very sadly. + +"'There is only one thing,' said the old woman. 'If you can find a girl +who has never said a cross word in her life, and she will put the pieces +together, and hold them tight, and say, "_Ram shackla alla balla ba_," +three times, it will mend in a minute.' + +"So the Fairy thanked her, and went his way, dragging the poor wing +behind him. By and by he came to a wood, and there in front of a little +house was the prettiest girl he had ever seen. Her eyes were as blue as, +as blue as--as the edges of mother's company saucers! And her hair, +which was the color of gold, curled down to her feet. + +"'A girl with hair and eyes like that couldn't say a cross word to save +her life,' thought the Fairy. He was just going to speak to her. She +couldn't see him, you know, because he was indivisible--" + +"'Invisible,' you mean," interrupted Reuben. + +"Oh, Reuben, don't stop her! See how the tallow is running down the side +of the candle! She'll never have time to finish," put in Cynthia, +anxiously. + +"I meant 'invisible,' of course," went on Eunice, speaking fast. "Well, +just then a woman came out of the house. It was the pretty girl's +mother. + +"'Estella,' she said, 'I want you to go for the cows, because your +father is sick.' + +"'Oh, bother!' said the pretty girl. 'I don't want to! I hate going for +cows. I wish father wouldn't go and get sick!' Just think of a girl's +speaking like that to her mother! And the Fairy sighed, for he thought, +'My wing won't get mended here,' and he hopped away. + +"By and by he came to a house in another wood, and there was another +girl. She wasn't pretty at all. She had short stubby brown hair like +Cynthia's, and a turn-up nose like me, and her freckles were as big as +Reuben's, but she looked nice and kind. + +"The Fairy didn't have much hope that a girl who was as homely as that +could mend wings. But while he was waiting, another woman came out. It +was the turned-up-nose girl's mother, and she said, 'I want you to go +for the cows to-night, because your father has broken his leg.' + +"And the girl smiled just as sweet, and she said, 'Yes, mother, I'll be +glad to go.' + +"Then the Fairy rejoiced, and he came forward and said--Oh, dear!" + +This was not what the Fairy said, but what Eunice said; for at that +moment the little candle went out. + +"Well, I am glad you got as far as you did," whispered Cynthia, "for I +guess the turned-up-nose girl could mend the wing. Now, Reuby, if you'll +go into your room I'll not be two minutes. And then you can light my +candle." + +In less than two minutes all was ready. This time there were two little +girls in bed, and Reuben sat alone at the foot, ready to listen. + +"My story," began Cynthia, "is about that girl in the window-pane in the +ell. Her name was Mercy Marsh, and she lived in this house." + +"Is it true?" asked Eunice. + +"No, it's made up, but I'm going to make believe that it's true. She +slept in the corn chamber,--it was a bedroom then,--and she had that +yellow painted bedstead of Hepzibah's. + +"There was a hiding-place under the floor of the room. It was made to +put things in when Indians came, or the English,--money and spoons, and +things like that. + +"One day when Mercy was spinning under the big elm, a man came running +down the road. He was a young man, and very handsome, and he had on a +sort of uniform. + +"'Hide me!' he cried. 'They will kill me if they catch me. Hide me, +quick!' + +"'Who will kill you?' asked Mercy. + +"Then the young man told her that he had accidentally shot a man who was +out hunting with him, and that the man's brothers, who were very bad +people, had sworn to have his blood. + +"Then Mercy took his hand, and led him quickly up to her room, and +lifted the cover of the hiding-place, and told him to get in. And he got +in, but first he said, 'Fair maiden, if I come out alive, I shall have +somewhat to say to thee.' And Mercy blushed." + +"What did he mean?" asked Eunice, innocently. + +"Oh, just love-making and nonsense!" put in Reuben. "Hurry up, Cynthia! +Come to the fighting. The candle's all but burned out." + +"There isn't going to be any fighting," returned Cynthia. "Well, Mercy +pulled the bedside carpet over the cover, and she set that red +candle-stand on one corner of it and a chair on the other corner, and +went back to her spinning. She had hardly begun before there was a +rustling in the bushes, and two men with guns in their hands came out. + +"'Which way did he go?' they shouted. + +"'Who?' she said, and she looked up so quietly that they never suspected +her. + +"'Has no one gone by?' they asked her. + +"'No one,' she said; and you know this wasn't a lie, for the young man +did not go by. He stopped! + +"'There is the back door open,' she went on, 'and you are welcome to +search, if you desire it. My father is away, but he will be here soon.' +She said this because she feared the men. + +"So the men searched, but they found nothing, and Mercy's room looked so +neat and peaceful that they did not like to disturb it, and just looked +in at the door. And when they were gone, Mercy went up and raised the +cover, and the youth said that he loved her, and that if the Lord +willed, he--" + +Pop! The second candle went suddenly out. + +"It's a shame!" cried Reuben, dancing with vexation. "It seems as if the +blamed things knew when we most wanted them to last!" + +"Oh, Reuben! don't say 'blamed.'" + +"I forgot. Well, blame-worthy, then. There's no harm in that." + +"We shall never know if the young man married Mercy," said little +Eunice, lamentably. + +"Oh, of course he did! That's the way stories always end." + +"Now, Reuben, hurry to bed, and when you are all ready, light your +candle, and if you speak loud we shall hear every word." + +This was Reuben's story: "Once there was a Ghost. He had committed a +murder, and that was the reason he had to go alone and fly about on cold +nights in a white shirt. + +"He used to look in at windows and see people sitting by fires, and envy +them. And he would moan and chatter his teeth, and then they would say +that he was the wind." + +"Oh, Reuben! is it going to be very awful?" demanded Cynthia, +apprehensively. + +"Not very. Only just enough to half-scare you to death! He would put +his hand out when girls stood by the door, and they would feel as if a +whole pitcher of cold water had been poured down their backs. + +"Once a boy came to the door. He was the son of the murdered man. The +Ghost was afraid of him. 'Thomas!' said the Ghost. + +"'Who speaks?' said the boy. He couldn't have heard if he hadn't been +the son of the murdered man. + +"'I'm the Ghost of your father's slayer,' said the Ghost. 'Tell me what +I can do to be forgiven.' + +"'I don't think you can be forgiven,' said the boy. Then the Ghost gave +such a dreadful groan that the boy felt sorry for him. + +"'I'll tell you, then,' he said. 'Go to my father's grave, and lay upon +it a perfectly white blackberry, and a perfectly black snowdrop, and a +valuable secret, and a hair from the head of a really happy person, and +you shall be forgiven!' + +"So the Ghost set out to find these four things. He had to bleach the +blackberry and dye the snowdrop, and he got the hair from the head of a +little baby who happened to be born with hair and hadn't had time to be +unhappy, and the secret was about a goldmine that only the Ghost knew +about. But just as he was laying them on the grave, a cold hand +clutched--" The sentence ended in a three-fold shriek, for just at this +exciting juncture the last candle went out. + +"Children," said Mrs. Marsh, opening the door, "I'm afraid you've been +frightening yourselves with your stories. That was foolish. I am glad +there are no more little candles. Now, not another word to-night." + +She straightened the tossed coverlids, heard their prayers, and went +away. In a few minutes all that remained of the long-anticipated treat +were three little drops of tallow where three little candles had quite +burned out, three stories not quite told, and three children fast +asleep. + + + + +UNCLE AND AUNT. + + +Uncle and Aunt were a very dear and rather queer old couple, who lived +in one of the small villages which dot the long indented coast of Long +Island Sound. It was four miles to the railway, so the village had not +waked up from its colonial sleep on the building of the line, as had +other villages nearer to its course, but remained the same shady, quiet +place, with never a steam-whistle nor a manufactory bell to break its +repose. + +Sparlings-Neck was the name of the place. No hotel had ever been built +there, so no summer visitors came to give it a fictitious air of life +for a few weeks of the year. The century-old elms waved above the +gambrel roofs of the white, green-blinded houses, and saw the same names +on doorplates and knockers that had been there when the century began: +"Benjamin," "Wilson," "Kirkland," "Benson," "Reinike,"--there they all +were, with here and there the prefix of a distinguishing initial, as "J. +L. Benson," "Eleazar Wilson," or "Paul Reinike." Paul Reinike, fourth of +the name who had dwelt in that house, was the "Uncle" of this story. + +Uncle was tall and gaunt and gray, of the traditional New England type. +He had a shrewd, dry face, with wise little wrinkles about the corners +of the eyes, and just a twinkle of fun and a quiet kindliness in the +lines of the mouth. People said the squire was a master-hand at a +bargain. And so he was; but if he got the uttermost penny out of all +legitimate business transactions, he was always ready to give that +penny, and many more, whenever deserving want knocked at his door, or a +good work to be done showed itself distinctly as needing help. + +Aunt, too, was a New Englander, but of a slightly different type. She +was the squire's cousin before she became his wife; and she had the +family traits, but with a difference. She was spare, but she was also +very small, and had a distinct air of authority which made her like a +fairy godmother. She was very quiet and comfortable in her ways, but she +was full of "faculty,"--that invaluable endowment which covers such a +multitude of capacities. Nobody's bread or pies were equal to Aunt's. +Her preserves never fermented; her cranberry always jellied; her +sponge-cake rose to heights unattained by her neighbors', and stayed +there, instead of ignominiously "flopping" when removed from the oven, +like the sponge-cake of inferior housekeepers. Everything in the old +home moved like clock-work. Meals were ready to a minute; the mahogany +furniture glittered like dark-red glass; the tall clock in the entry +was never a tick out of the way; and yet Aunt never appeared to be +particularly busy. To one not conversant with her methods, she gave the +impression of being generally at leisure, sitting in her rocking-chair +in the "keeping-room," hemming cap-strings, and reading Emerson, for +Aunt liked to keep up with the thought of the day. + +Hesse declared that either she sat up and did things after the rest of +the family had gone to bed, or else that she kept a Brownie to work for +her; but Hesse was a saucy child, and Aunt only smiled indulgently at +these sarcasms. + +Hesse was the only young thing in the shabby old home; for, though it +held many handsome things, it was shabby. Even the cat was a sober +matron. The old white mare had seen almost half as many years as her +master. The very rats and mice looked gray and bearded when you caught a +glimpse of them. But Hesse was youth incarnate, and as refreshing in +the midst of the elderly stillness which surrounded her as a frolicsome +puff of wind, or a dancing ray of sunshine. She had come to live with +Uncle and Aunt when she was ten years old; she was now nearly eighteen, +and she loved the quaint house and its quainter occupants with her whole +heart. + +Hesse's odd name, which had been her mother's, her grandmother's, and +her great-grandmother's before her, was originally borrowed from that of +the old German town whence the first Reinike had emigrated to America. +She had not spent quite all of the time at Sparlings-Neck since her +mother died. There had been two years at boarding-school, broken by long +vacations, and once she had made a visit in New York to her mother's +cousin, Mrs. De Lancey, who considered herself a sort of joint guardian +over Hesse, and was apt to send a frock or a hat, now and then, as the +fashions changed; that "the child might not look exactly like Noah, and +Mrs. Noah, and the rest of the people in the ark," she told her +daughter. This visit to New York had taken place when Hesse was about +fifteen; now she was to make another. And, just as this story opens, she +and Aunt were talking over her wardrobe for the occasion. + +"I shall give you this China-crape shawl," said Aunt, decisively. + +Hesse looked admiringly, but a little doubtfully, at the soft, clinging +fabric, rich with masses of yellow-white embroidery. + +"I am afraid girls don't wear shawls now," she ventured to say. + +"My dear," said Aunt, "a handsome thing is always handsome; never mind +if it is not the last novelty, put it on, all the same. The Reinikes can +wear what they like, I hope! They certainly know better what is proper +than these oil-and-shoddy people in New York that we read about in the +newspapers. Now, here is my India shawl,"--unpinning a towel, and +shaking out a quantity of dried rose-leaves. "I _lend_ you this; not +give it, you understand." + +[Illustration: "I shall give you this China-crape shawl," said aunt, +decisively.--PAGE 88.] + +"Thank you, Aunt, dear." Hesse was secretly wondering what Cousin Julia +and the girls would say to the India shawl. + +"You must have a pelisse, of some sort," continued her aunt; "but +perhaps your Cousin De Lancey can see to that. Though I _might_ have +Miss Lewis for a day, and cut over that handsome camlet of mine. It's +been lying there in camphor for fifteen years, of no use to anybody." + +"Oh, but that would be a pity!" cried Hesse, with innocent wiliness. +"The girls are all wearing little short jackets now, trimmed with fur, +or something like that; it would be a pity to cut up that great cloak to +make a little bit of a wrap for me." + +"Fur?" said her aunt, catching at the word; "the very thing! How will +this do?" dragging out of the camphor-chest an enormous cape, which +seemed made of tortoise-shell cats, so yellow and brown and mottled was +it. "Won't this do for a trimming, or would you rather have it as it +is?" + +"I shall have to ask Cousin Julia," replied Hesse. "Oh, Aunt, dear, +don't give me any more! You really mustn't! You are robbing yourself of +everything!" For Aunt was pulling out yards of yellow lace, lengths of +sash ribbon of faded colors and wonderful thickness, strange, +old-fashioned trinkets. + +"And here's your grandmother's wedding-gown--and mine!" she said; "you +had better take them both. I have little occasion for dress here, and I +like you to have them, Hesse. Say no more about it, my dear." + +There was never any gainsaying Aunt, so Hesse departed for New York with +her trunk full of antiquated finery, sage-green and "pale-colored" silks +that would almost stand alone; Mechlin lace, the color of a spring +buttercup; hair rings set with pearls, and brooches such as no one sees, +nowadays, outside of a curiosity shop. Great was the amusement which the +unpacking caused in Madison Avenue. + +"Yet the things are really handsome," said Mrs. De Lancey, surveying the +fur cape critically. "This fur is queer and old-timey, but it will make +quite an effective trimming. As for this crape shawl, I have an idea: +you shall have an overdress made of it, Hesse. It will be lovely with a +silk slip. You may laugh, Pauline, but you will wish you had one like it +when you see Hesse in hers. It only needs a little taste in adapting, +and fortunately these quaint old things are just coming into fashion." + +Pauline, a pretty girl,--modern to her fingertips--held up a square +brooch, on which, under pink glass, shone a complication of initials in +gold, the whole set in a narrow twisted rim of pearls and garnets, and +asked: + +"How do you propose to 'adapt' this, Mamma?" + +"Oh," cried Hesse, "I wouldn't have that 'adapted' for the world! It +must stay just as it is. It belonged to my grandmother, and it has a +love-story connected with it." + +"A love-story! Oh, tell it to us!" said Grace, the second of the De +Lancey girls. + +"Why," explained Hesse; "you see, my grandmother was once engaged to a +man named John Sherwood. He was a 'beautiful young man,' Aunt says; but +very soon after they were engaged, he fell ill with consumption, and had +to go to Madeira. He gave Grandmamma that pin before he sailed. See, +there are his initials, 'J. S.,' and hers, 'H. L. R.,' for Hesse Lee +Reinike, you know. He gave her a copy of 'Thomas à Kempis' besides, with +'The Lord do so to me, and more also, if aught but death part thee and +me,' written on the title-page. I have the book, too; Uncle gave it to +me for my own." + +"And did _he_ ever come back?" asked Pauline. + +"No," answered Hesse. "He died in Madeira, and was buried there; and +quite a long time afterward, Grandmamma married my grandfather. I'm so +fond of that queer old brooch, I like to wear it sometimes." + +"How _does_ it look?" demanded Pauline. + +"You shall see for yourself, for I'll wear it to-night," said Hesse. + +And when Hesse came down to dinner with the quaint ornament shining +against her white neck on a bit of black velvet ribbon, even Pauline +owned that the effect was not bad,--queer, of course, and unlike other +people's things, but certainly not bad. + +Mrs. De Lancey had a quick eye for character, and she noted with +satisfaction that her young cousin was neither vexed at, nor affected +by, her cousins' criticisms on her outfit. Hesse saw for herself that +her things were unusual, and not in the prevailing style, but she knew +them to be handsome of their kind, and she loved them as a part of her +old home. There was, too, in her blood a little of the family pride +which had made Aunt say, "The Reinikes know what is proper, I hope." So +she wore her odd fur and made-over silks and the old laces with no sense +of being ill-dressed, and that very fact "carried it off," and made her +seem well dressed. Cousin Julia saw that her wardrobe was sufficiently +modernized not to look absurd, or attract too much attention, and there +was something in Hesse's face and figure which suited the character of +her clothes. People took notice of this or that, now and again,--said it +was pretty, and where could they get such a thing?--and, flattery of +flatteries, some of the girls copied her effects! + +"Estelle Morgan says, if you don't mind, she means to have a ball-dress +exactly like that blue one of yours," Pauline told her one day. + +"Oh, how funny! Aunt's wedding-gown made up with surah!" cried Hesse. +"Do you remember how you laughed at the idea, Polly, and said it would +be horrid?" + +"Yes, and I did think so," said Polly; "but somehow it looks very nice +on you. When it is hanging up in the closet, I don't care much for it." + +"Well, luckily, no one need look at it when it is hanging up in the +closet," retorted Hesse, laughing. + +Her freshness, her sweet temper, and bright capacity for enjoyment had +speedily made Hesse a success among the young people of her cousins' +set. Girls liked her, and ran after her as a social favorite; and she +had flowers and german favors and flatteries enough to spoil her, had +she been spoilable. But she kept a steady head through all these +distractions, and never forgot, however busy she might be, to send off +the long journal-letter, which was the chief weekly event to Uncle and +Aunt. + +Three months had been the time fixed for Hesse's stay in New York, but, +without her knowledge, Mrs. De Lancey had written to beg for a little +extension. Gayeties thickened as Lent drew near, and there was one +special fancy dress ball, at Mrs. Shuttleworth's, about which Hesse had +heard a great deal, and which she had secretly regretted to lose. She +was, therefore, greatly delighted at a letter from Aunt, giving her +leave to stay a fortnight longer. + +"Uncle will come for you on Shrove-Tuesday," wrote her Aunt. "He has +some business to attend to, so he will stay over till Thursday, and you +can take your pleasure till the last possible moment." + +"How lovely!" cried Hesse. "How good of you to write, Cousin Julia, and +I _am_ so pleased to go to Mrs. Shuttleworth's ball!" + +"What will you wear?" asked Pauline. + +"Oh, I haven't thought of that, yet. I must invent something, for I +don't wish to buy another dress, I have had so many things already." + +"Now, Hesse, you can't invent anything. It's impossible to make a fancy +dress out of the ragbag," said Pauline, whose ideas were all of an +expensive kind. + +"We shall see," said Hesse. "I think I shall keep my costume as a +surprise,--except from you, Cousin Julia. I shall want you to help me, +but none of the others shall know anything about it till I come +down-stairs." + +This was a politic move on the part of Hesse. She was resolved to spend +no money, for she knew that her winter had cost more than Uncle had +expected, and more than it might be convenient for him to spare; yet she +wished to avert discussion and remonstrance, and at the same time to +prevent Mrs. De Lancey from giving her a new dress, which was very often +that lady's easy way of helping Hesse out of her toilet difficulties. So +a little seamstress was procured, and Cousin Julia taken into counsel. +Hesse kept her door carefully locked for a day or two; and when, on the +evening of the party, she came down attired as "My great-grandmother," +in a short-waisted, straight-skirted white satin; with a big +ante-revolutionary hat tied under her dimpled chin; a fichu of mull, +embroidered in colored silks, knotted across her breast; long white silk +mittens, and a reticule of pearl beads hanging from her girdle,--even +Pauline could find no fault. The costume was as becoming as it was +queer; and all the girls told Hesse that she had never looked so well in +her life. + +Eight or ten particular friends of Pauline and Grace had arranged to +meet at the De Lanceys', and all start together for the ball. The room +was quite full of gay figures as "My great-grandmother" came down; it +was one of those little moments of triumph which girls prize. The +door-bell rang as she slowly turned before the throng, to exhibit the +back of the wonderful gored and plaited skirt. There was a little +colloquy in the hall, the butler opened the door, and in walked a figure +which looked singularly out of place among the pretty, fantastic, +girlish forms,--a tall, spare, elderly figure, in a coat of +old-fashioned cut. A carpet-bag was in his hand. He was no other than +Uncle, come a day before he was expected. + +His entrance made a little pause. + +"What an extraordinary-looking person!" whispered Maud Ashurst to +Pauline, who colored, hesitated, and did not, for a moment, know what to +do. Hesse, standing with her back to the door, had seen nothing; but, +struck by the silence, she turned. A meaner nature than hers might have +shared Pauline's momentary embarrassment, but there was not a mean fibre +in the whole of Hesse's frank, generous being. + +"Uncle! dear Uncle!" she cried; and, running forward, she threw her arms +around the lean old neck, and gave him half a dozen of her warmest +kisses. + +"It is my uncle," she explained to the others. "We didn't expect him +till to-morrow; and isn't it too delightful that he should come in time +to see us all in our dresses!" + +Then she drew him this way and that, introducing him to all her +particular friends, chattering, dimpling, laughing with such evident +enjoyment, such an assured sense that it was the pleasantest thing +possible to have her uncle there, that every one else began to share it. +The other girls, who, with a little encouragement, a little reserve and +annoyed embarrassment on the part of Hesse, would have voted Uncle "a +countrified old quiz," and, while keeping up the outward forms of +civility, would have despised him in their hearts, infected by Hesse's +sweet happiness, began to talk to him with the wish to please, and +presently to discover how pleasant his face was, and how shrewd and +droll his ideas and comments; and it ended by all pronouncing him an +"old dear,"--so true it is that genuine and unaffected love and respect +carry weight with them for all the rest of the world. + +Uncle was immensely amused by the costumes. He recalled the fancy balls +of his youth, and gave the party some ideas on dress which had never +occurred to any of them before. He could not at all understand the +principle of selection on which the different girls had chosen their +various characters. + +"That gypsy queen looked as if she ought to be teaching a +Sunday-school," he told Hesse afterward. "Little Red Riding Hood was too +big for her wolf; and as for that scampish little nun of yours, I don't +believe the stoutest convent ever built could hold her in for half a +day." + +"Come with us to Mrs. Shuttleworth's. It will be a pretty scene, and +something for you to tell Cousin Marianne about when you go back," urged +Mrs. De Lancey. + +"Oh, do, do!" chimed in Hesse. "It will be twice as much fun if you are +there, Uncle!" + +But Uncle was tired by his journey, and would not consent; and I am +afraid that Pauline and Grace were a little relieved by his decision. +False shame and the fear of "people" are powerful influences. + +Three days later, Hesse's long, delightful visit ended, and she was +speeding home under Uncle's care. + +"You must write and invite some of those fine young folk to come up to +see you in June," he told her. + +"That will be delightful," said Hesse. But when she came to think about +it later, she was not so sure about its being delightful. + +There is nothing like a long absence from home to open one's eyes to the +real aspect of familiar things. The Sparlings-Neck house looked wofully +plain and old-fashioned, even to Hesse, when contrasted with the +elegance of Madison Avenue; how much more so, she reflected, would it +look to the girls! + +She thought of Uncle's after-dinner pipe; of the queer little chamber, +opening from the dining-room, where he and Aunt chose to sleep; of the +green-painted woodwork of the spare bedrooms, and the blue paper-shades, +tied up with a cord, which Aunt clung to because they were in fashion +when she was a girl; and for a few foolish moments she felt that she +would rather not have her friends come at all, than have them come to +see all this, and perhaps make fun of it. Only for a few moments; then +her more generous nature asserted itself with a bound. + +"How mean of me to even think of such a thing!" she told herself, +indignantly,--"to feel ashamed to have people know what my own home is +like, and Uncle and Aunt, who are so good to me! Hesse Reinike, I should +like to hire some one to give you a good whipping! The girls _shall_ +come, and I'll make the old house look just as sweet as I can, and they +shall like it, and have a beautiful time from the moment they come till +they go away, if I can possibly give it to them." + +To punish herself for what she considered an unworthy feeling, she +resolved not to ask Aunt to let her change the blue paper-shades for +white curtains, but to have everything exactly as it usually was. But +Aunt had her own ideas and her pride of housekeeping to consider. As the +time of the visit drew near, laundering and bleaching seemed to be +constantly going on, and Jane, the old housemaid, was kept busy tacking +dimity valances and fringed hangings on the substantial four-post +bedsteads, and arranging fresh muslin covers over the toilet-tables. +Treasures unknown to Hesse were drawn out of their receptacles,--bits of +old embroidery, tamboured tablecloths and "crazy quilts," vases and +bow-pots of pretty old china for the bureaus and chimney-pieces. Hesse +took a long drive to the woods, and brought back great masses of ferns, +pink azalea, and wild laurel. All the neighbors' gardens were laid under +contribution. When all was in order, with ginger-jars full of cool white +daisies and golden buttercups standing on the shining mahogany tables, +bunches of blue lupines on the mantel, the looking-glasses wreathed with +traveller's joy, a great bowl full of early roses and quantities of +lilies-of-the-valley, the old house looked cosey enough and smelt sweet +enough to satisfy the most fastidious taste. + +Hesse drove over with Uncle to the station to meet her guests. They took +the big carryall, which, with squeezing, would hold seven; and a wagon +followed for the luggage. There were five girls coming; for, besides +Pauline and Grace, Hesse had invited Georgie Berrian, Maud Ashurst, and +Ella Waring, who were the three special favorites among her New York +friends. + +The five flocked out of the train, looking so dainty and stylish that +they made the old carryall seem shabbier than ever by contrast. Maud +Ashurst cast one surprised look at it and at the old white mare,--she +had never seen just such a carriage before; but the quality of the +equipage was soon forgotten, as Uncle twitched the reins, and they +started down the long lane-like road which led to Sparlings-Neck and was +Hesse's particular delight. + +The station and the dusty railroad were forgotten almost +immediately,--lost in the sense of complete country freshness. On either +hand rose tangled banks of laurel and barberries, sweet-ferns and +budding grapevines, overarched by tall trees, and sending out delicious +odors; while mingling with and blending all came, borne on a shoreward +wind, the strong salt fragrance of the sea. + +"What is it? What can it be? I never smelt anything like it!" cried the +girls from the city. + +"Now, girls," cried Hesse, turning her bright face around from the +driver's seat, "this is real, absolute country, you know,--none of the +make-believes which you get at Newport or up the Hudson. Everything we +have is just as queer and old-fashioned as it can be. You won't be asked +to a single party while you are here, and there isn't the ghost of a +young man in the neighborhood. Well, yes, there may be a ghost, but +there is no young man. You must just make up your minds, all of you, to +a dull time, and then you'll find that it's lovely." + +"It's sure to be lovely wherever you are, you dear thing!" declared Ella +Waring, with a little rapturous squeeze. + +I fancy that, just at first, the city girls did think the place very +queer. None of them had ever seen just such an old house as the +Reinikes' before. The white wainscots with their toothed mouldings +matched by the cornices above, the droll little cupboards in the walls, +the fire-boards pasted with gay pictures, the queer closets and +clothes-presses occurring just where no one would naturally have looked +for them, and having, each and all, an odd shut-up odor, as of by-gone +days,--all seemed very strange to them. But the flowers and the green +elms and Hesse's warm welcome were delightful; so were Aunt's waffles +and wonderful tarts, the strawberries smothered in country cream, and +the cove oysters and clams which came in, deliciously stewed, for tea; +and they soon pronounced the visit "a lark," and Sparlings-Neck a +paradise. + +There were long drives in the woods, picnics in the pine groves, +bathing-parties on the beach, morning sittings under the trees with an +interesting book; and when a northeaster came, and brought with it what +seemed a brief return of winter, there was a crackling fire, a +candy-pull, and a charming evening spent in sitting on the floor +telling ghost-stories, with the room only lighted by the fitfully +blazing wood, and with cold creeps running down their backs! Altogether, +the fortnight was a complete success, and every one saw its end with +reluctance. + +"I wish we were going to stay all summer!" said Georgie Berrian. +"Newport will seem stiff and tiresome after this." + +"I never had so good a time,--never!" declared Ella. "And, Hesse, I do +think your aunt and uncle are the dearest old people I ever saw!" That +pleased Hesse most of all. But what pleased her still more was when, +after the guests were gone, and the house restored to its old order, and +the regular home life begun again, Uncle put his arm around her, and +gave her a kiss,--not a bedtime kiss, or one called for by any special +occasion, but an extra kiss, all of his own accord. + +"A dear child," he said; "not a bit ashamed of the old folks, was she? +I liked that, Hesse." + +"Ashamed of you and Aunt? I should think not!" answered Hesse, with a +flush. + +Uncle gave a dry little chuckle. + +"Well, well," he said, "some girls would have been; you weren't,--that's +all the difference. You're a good child, Hesse." + + + + +THE CORN-BALL MONEY, AND WHAT BECAME OF IT. + + +Dotty and Dimple were two little sisters, who looked so much alike that +most people took them for twins. They both had round faces, blue eyes, +straight brown hair, cut short in the neck, and cheeks as firm and pink +as fall apples; and, though Dotty was eleven months the oldest, Dimple +was the taller by half an inch, so that altogether it was very +confusing. + +I don't believe any twins could love each other better than did these +little girls. Nobody ever heard them utter a quarrelsome word from the +time they waked in the morning, and began to chatter and giggle in bed +like two little squirrels, to the moment when they fell asleep at night, +with arms tight clasped round each other's necks. They liked the same +things, did the same things, and played together all day long without +being tired. Their father's farm was two miles from the nearest +neighbor, and three from the schoolhouse; so they didn't go to school, +and no little boys and girls ever came to see them. + +Should you think it would be lonely to live so? Dotty and Dimple didn't. +They had each other for playmates, and all outdoors to play in, and that +was enough. + +The farm was a wild, beautiful spot. A river ran round two sides of it; +and quite near the house it "met with an accident," as Dotty said; that +is, it tumbled over some high rocks in a waterfall, and then, picking +itself up, took another jump, and landed, all white and foaming, in a +deep wooded glen. + +The water where it fell was dazzling with rainbows, like soap-bubbles; +and the pool at the bottom had the color of a green emerald, only that +all over the top little flakes of sparkling spray swam and glittered in +the sun. Altogether it was a wonderful place, and the children were +never tired of watching the cascade or hearing the rush and roar of its +leap. + +All summer long city people, boarding in the village, six miles off, +would drive over to see the fall. This was very interesting, indeed! +Carryalls and big wagons would stop at the gate, and ladies get out, +with pretty round hats and parasols; and gentlemen, carrying canes; and +dear little children, in flounced and braided frocks. And they would all +come trooping up close by the house, on their way to see the view. +Sometimes, but not often, one would stop to get a drink of water or ask +the way. Dotty and Dimple liked very much to have them come. They would +hide, and peep out at the strangers, and make up all kinds of stories +about them; but they were too shy to come forward or let themselves be +seen. So the people from the city never guessed what bright eyes were +looking at them from behind the door or on the other side of the bushes. +But all the same, it was great fun for the children to have them come, +and they were always pleased when wheels were heard and wagons drove up +to the gate. + +It was early last summer that a droll idea popped into Dotty's head. It +all came from a man who, walking past, and stopping to see the fall, sat +down a while to rest, and said to the farmer:-- + +"I should think you'd charge people something for looking at that ere +place, stranger." + +"No," replied Dotty's father. "I don't calculate on asking folks nothing +for the use of their eyes." + +"Well," said the man, getting up to go, "you might as well. It's what +folks is doing all over the country. If 't was mine, I'd fix up a lunch +or something, and fetch 'em that way." + +But the farmer only laughed. That night, when Dotty and Dimple were in +bed, they began to whisper to each other about the man. + +"Wasn't it funny," giggled Dimple, "his telling Pa to fix a lunch?" + +"Yes," said Dotty. "But I'll tell you what, Dimple! when he said that, I +had such a nice plan come into my head. You know you and me can make +real nice corn-balls." + +"'Course we can." + +"Well, let's get Pa, or else Zach, to make us a little table,--out of +boards, you know; and let's put it on the bank, close to the place where +folks go to see the fall; and every day let's pop a lot of corn, and +make some balls, and set them on the table for the folks to eat. Don't +you think that would be nice?" + +"I'm afraid Mother wouldn't let us have so much molasses," said the +practical Dimple. + +"Oh, but don't you see I mean to have the folks _pay_ for 'em! We'll put +a paper on the table, with 'two cents apiece,' or something like that, +on it. And then they'll put the money on the table, and when they're +gone away we'll go and fetch it. Won't that be fun? Perhaps there'd be a +great, great deal,--most as much as a dollar!" + +"Oh, no," cried Dimple, "not so much as _that_! But we might get a +greenback. How much is a greenback, Dot?" + +"Oh, I don't know," replied Dotty. "A good deal, I know, but I guess it +isn't so much as a dollar." + +The little sisters could hardly sleep that night, they were so excited +over their plan. Next morning they were up with the birds; and before +breakfast Mother, Father, and Zach, the hired man, had heard all about +the wonderful scheme. + +Mother said she didn't mind letting them try; and Zach, who was very +fond of the children, promised to make the table the very first thing +after the big field was ploughed. And so he did; and a very nice table +it was, with four legs and a good stout top. Dotty and Dimple laughed +with pleasure when they saw it. + +Zach set it on the bank just at the place where the people stood to look +at the view; and he drove a stake at each corner; and found some old +sheeting, and made a sort of tent over the table, so that the sun should +not shine under and melt the corn-balls. When it was all arranged, and +the table set out, with the corn-balls on one plate and maple-sugar +cakes on another, it looked very tempting, and the children were +extremely proud of it. Dotty cut a sheet of paper, and printed upon it +the following notice: + + "Corn bals 2 sents apece. + Sugar 1 sent apece. + Plese help yure selfs and put the munney + on the table." + +This was pinned to the tent, right over the table. + +The first day four people came to visit the waterfall; and when the +children ran down to look, after they had driven away, half the +provisions were gone, and there on the table lay four shining five-cent +pieces! The next day was not so good; they only made four cents. And so +it went on all summer. Some days a good many people would come, and a +good many pennies be left on the table; and other days nobody would +come, and the wasps would eat the maple-sugar, and fly away without +paying anything at all. But little by little the tin box in Mother's +drawer got heavier and heavier, until at last, early in October, Dotty +declared that she was tired of making corn-balls, and she guessed the +city-folks were all gone home; and now wouldn't Mother please to count +the money, and see how much they had got? + +So Mother emptied the tin box into her lap, with a great jingle of +pennies and rustling of fractional currency. And how much do you think +there was? Three dollars and seventy-eight cents! The seventy-eight +cents Mother said would just about pay for the molasses; so there were +three dollars all their own,--for Dotty and Dimple to spend as they +liked! + +You should have seen them dance about the kitchen! Three dollars! Why, +it was a fortune! It would buy everything in the world! They had fifty +plans, at least, for spending it; and sat up so late talking them over, +and had such red cheeks and excited eyes, that Mother said she was +afraid they wouldn't sleep one wink all night. But, bless you! they did, +and were as bright as buttons in the morning. + +For a week there was nothing talked about but the wonderful three +dollars. And then one evening Father, who had been over to the village, +came home with a very grave face, and, drawing a newspaper from his +pocket, read them all about the great fire in Chicago. + +He read how the flames, spreading like wind, swept from one house to +another, and how people had just time to run out of their homes, leaving +everything to burn; how women, with babies in their arms, and frightened +children crouched all that dreadful night out on the cold, wet prairie, +without food or clothes or shelter; how little boys and girls ran +through the burning streets, crying for the parents whom they could not +find; how everybody had lost everything. + +"Oh," said Dimple, almost crying, as she listened to the piteous story, +"how dreadful those little girls must feel! And I suppose all their +dollies are burned up too. I wouldn't have Nancy burned in a fire for +anything!" and, picking up an old doll, of whom she was very fond, she +hugged her with unspeakable affection. + +That night there was another long, mysterious confabulation in the +children's bed; and, coming down in the morning, hand in hand, Dotty and +Dimple announced that they had made up their minds what to do with the +corn-ball money. + +"We're going to send it to the Sicago," said Dimple, "to those poor +little girls whose dollies are all burned up!" + +"How will you send it?" asked their Mother. + +"In a letter," said Dotty. "And please, Pa, write on the outside: 'From +Dotty and Dimple, to buy some dollies for the little girls whose dollies +were burned up in the fire.'" + +So their father put the money into an envelope, and wrote on the outside +just what Dotty said. And, when he had got through, he put his hands in +his pockets and walked out of the room. The children wondered what made +his face so red, and when they turned round, there was Mother with tears +in her eyes. + +"Why, what's the matter?" cried they. But their Mother only put her arms +round them and kissed them very hard. And she whispered to herself: "Of +such is the Kingdom of Heaven." + + + + +THE PRIZE GIRL OF THE HARNESSING CLASS. + + +It was the day before Thanksgiving, but the warmth of a late Indian +summer lay over the world, and tempered the autumn chill into mildness +more like early October than late November. Elsie Thayer, driving her +village cart rapidly through the "Long Woods," caught herself vaguely +wondering why the grass was not greener, and what should set the leaves +to tumbling off the trees in such an unsummer-like fashion,--then smiled +at herself for being so forgetful. + +The cart was packed full; for, besides Elsie herself, it held a bag of +sweet potatoes, a sizable bundle or two, and a large market-basket, +from which protruded the unmistakable legs of a turkey, not to mention a +choice smaller basket covered with a napkin. All these were going to the +little farmstead in which dwelt Mrs. Ann Sparrow, Elsie's nurse in +childhood, and the most faithful and kindly of friends ever since. Elsie +always made sure that "Nursey" had a good Thanksgiving dinner, and +generally carried it herself. + +The day was so delightful that it seemed almost a pity that the pony +should trot so fast. One would willingly have gone slowly, tasting drop +by drop, as it were, the lovely sunshine filtering through the yellow +beech boughs, the unexpected warmth, and the balmy spice of the air, +which had in it a tinge of smoky haze. But the day before Thanksgiving +is sure to be a busy one with New England folk; Elsie had other tasks +awaiting her, and she knew that Nursey would not be content with a short +visit. + +"Hurry up, little Jack!" she said. "You shall have a long rest +presently, if you are a good boy, and some nice fresh grass,--if I can +find any; anyway, a little drink of water. So make haste." + +Jack made haste. The yellow wheels of the cart spun in and out of the +shadow like circles of gleaming sun. When the two miles were achieved, +and the little clearing came into view, Elsie slackened her pace: she +wanted to take Nursey by surprise. Driving straight to a small open +shed, she deftly unharnessed the pony, tied him with a liberal allowance +of halter, hung up the harness, and wheeled the cart away from his +heels, all with the ease which is born of practice. She then gathered a +lapful of brown but still nourishing grasses for Jack, and was about to +lift the parcels from the wagon when she was espied by Mrs. Sparrow. + +Out she came, hurrying and flushed with pleasure,--the dearest old +woman, with pink, wrinkled cheeks like a perfectly baked apple, and a +voice which still retained its pleasant English tones, after sixty long +years in America. + +"Well, Missy, dear, so it's you. I made sure you'd come, and had been +watching all the morning; but somehow I missed you when you drove up, +and it was just by haccident like, that I looked out of window and see +you in the shed. You're looking well, Missy. That school hasn't hurt you +a bit. Just the same nice color in your cheeks as ever. I was that +troubled when I heard you wa'n't coming home last summer, for I thought +maybe you was ill; but your mother she said 'twas all right, and just +for your pleasure, and I see it was so. Why,"--her voice changing to +consternation,--"if you haven't unharnessed the horse! Now, Missy, how +came you to do that? You forgot there wasn't no one about but me. Who's +to put him in for you, I wonder?" + +"Oh, I don't want any one. I can harness the pony myself." + +"Oh, Missy, dear, you mustn't do that! I couldn't let you. It's real +hard to harness a horse. You'd make some mistake, and then there'd be a +haccident." + +"Nonsense, Nursey! I've harnessed Jack once this morning already; it's +just as easy to do it twice. I'm a member of a Harnessing Class, I'd +have you to know; and, what's more, I took the prize!" + +"Now, Missy, dear, whatever do you mean by that? Young ladies learn to +harness! I never heard of such a thing in my life! In my young time, in +England, they learned globes and langwidges, and, it might be, to paint +in oils and such, and make nice things in chenille." + +"I'll tell you all about it, but first let us carry these things up to +the house. Here's your Thanksgiving turkey, Nursey,--with Mother's love. +Papa sent you the sweet potatoes and the cranberries; and the oranges +and figs and the pumpkin pie are from me. I made the pie myself. That's +another of the useful things that I learned to do at my school." + +"The master is very kind, Missy; and so is your mother; and I'm thankful +to you all. But that's a queer school of yours, it seems to me. For my +part, I never heard of young ladies learning such things as cooking and +harnessing at boarding-schools." + +"Oh, we learn arts and languages, too,--that part of our education isn't +neglected. Now, Nursey, we'll put these things in your buttery, and you +shall give me a glass of nice cold milk; and while I drink it I'll tell +you about Rosemary Hall,--that's the name of the school, you know; and +it's the dearest, nicest place you can think of." + +"Very likely, Miss Elsie," in an unconvinced tone; "but still I don't +see any reason why they should set you to making pies and harnessing +horses." + +"Oh, that's just at odd times, by way of fun and pleasure; it isn't +lessons, you know. You see, Mrs. Thanet--that's a rich lady who lives +close by, and is a sort of fairy godmother to us girls--has a great +notion about practical education. It was she who got up the Harnessing +Class and the Model Kitchen. It's the dearest little place you ever saw, +Nursey, with a _perfect_ stove, and shelves, and hooks for everything; +and such bright tins, and the prettiest of old-fashioned crockery! It's +just like a picture. We girls were always squabbling over whose turn +should come first. You can't think how much I learned there, Nursey! I +learned to make a pie, and clear out a grate, and scour saucepans, and," +counting on her fingers, "to make bread, rolls, minute-biscuit, +coffee,--delicious coffee, Nursey!--good soup, creamed oysters, and +pumpkin-pies and apple-pies! Just wait, and you shall see!" + +She jumped up, ran into the buttery, and soon returned, carrying a +triangle of pie on a plate. + +"It isn't Thanksgiving yet, I know; but there is no law against eating +pumpkin-pie the day before, so please, Nursey, taste this and see if you +don't call it good. Papa says it makes him think of his mother's pies, +when he was a little boy." + +"Indeed, and it is good, Missy, dear; and I won't deny but cooking may +be well for you to know; but for that other--the harnessing class, as +you call it,--I don't see the sense of that at all, Missy." + +"Oh, Nursey, indeed there is a great deal of sense in it. Mrs. Thanet +says it might easily happen, in the country especially,--if any one was +hurt or taken very ill, you know,--that life might depend upon a girl's +knowing how to harness. She had a man teach us, and we practised and +practised, and at the end of the term there was an exhibition, with a +prize for the girl who could harness and unharness quickest, and I won +it! See, here it is!" + +She held out a slim brown hand, and displayed a narrow gold bangle, on +which was engraved in minute letters, "What is worth doing at all, is +worth doing well." + +"Isn't it pretty?" she asked. + +"Yes," doubtfully. "The bracelet is pretty enough, Missy; but I can't +quite like what it stands for. It don't seem ladylike for you to be +knowing about harnesses and such things." + +"Oh, Nursey, dear, what nonsense!" + +There were things to be done after she got home, but Elsie could not +hurry her visit. Jack consumed his grass heap, and then stood sleepily +blinking at the flies for a long hour before his young mistress jumped +up. + +"Now, I must go!" she cried. "Come out and see me harness up, Nursey." + +It was swiftly and skilfully done, but still Nurse Sparrow shook her +head. + +"I don't like it!" she insisted. "'A horse shall be a vain thing for +safety'--that's in Holy Writ." + +"You are an obstinate old dear," said Elsie, good-humoredly. "Wait till +you're ill some day, and I go for the doctor. _Then_ you'll realize the +advantage of practical education. What a queer smell of smoke there is, +Nursey!" gathering up her reins. + +"Yes; the woods has been on fire for quite a spell, back on the other +side of Bald Top. You can smell the smoke most of the time. Seems to me +it's stronger than usual, to-day." + +"You don't think there is any danger of its coming this way, do you?" + +"Oh, no!" contentedly. "I don't suppose it could come so far as this." + +"But why not?" thought Elsie to herself, as she drove rapidly back. "If +the wind were right for it, why shouldn't it come this way? Fires travel +much farther than that on the prairies,--and they go very fast, too. I +never did like having Nursey all alone by herself on that farm." + +She reached home, to find things in unexpected confusion. Her father had +been called away for the night by a telegram, and her mother--on this, +of all days--had gone to bed, disabled with a bad headache. There was +much to be done, and Elsie flung herself into the breach, and did it, +too busy to think again of Nurse Sparrow and the fire, until, toward +nightfall, she noted that the wind had changed, and was blowing straight +from Bald Top, bringing with it an increase of smoke. + +She ran out to consult the hired man before he went home for the night, +and to ask if he thought there was any danger of the fire reaching the +Long Woods. He "guessed" not. + +"These fires get going quite often on to the other side of Bald Top, but +there ain't none of 'em come over this way, and 'tain't likely they ever +will. I guess Mis' Sparrow's safe enough. You needn't worry, Miss +Elsie." + +In spite of this comforting assurance, Elsie did worry. She looked out +of her west window the last thing before going to bed; and when, at two +in the morning, she woke with a sudden start, her first impulse was to +run to the window again. Then she gave an exclamation, and her heart +stood still with fear; for the southern slopes of Bald Top were ringed +with flames which gleamed dim and lurid through the smoke, and showers +of sparks, thrown high in air, showed that the edges of the woods beyond +Nursey's farm were already burning. + +"She'll be frightened to death," thought Elsie. "Oh, poor dear, and no +one to help her!" + +What should she do? To go after the man and waken him meant a long +delay. He was a heavy sleeper, and his house was a quarter of a mile +distant. But there was Jack in the stable, and the stable key was in +the hall below. As she dressed, she decided. + +"How glad I am that I can do this!" she thought, as she flung the +harness over the pony's back, strapped, buckled, adjusted,--doing all +with a speed which yet left nothing undone and slighted nothing. Not +even on the day when she took the prize had she put her horse in so +quickly. She ran back at the last moment for two warm rugs. Deftly +guiding Jack over the grass, that his hoofs should make no noise, she +gained the road, and, quickening him to his fastest pace, drove +fearlessly into the dark woods. + +They were not so dark as she had feared they would be, for the light of +a late, low-hung moon penetrated the trees, with perhaps some +reflections from the far-away fire, so that she easily made out the +turns and windings of the track. The light grew stronger as she +advanced. The main fire was still far distant, but before she reached +Nurse's little clearing, she even drove by one place where the woods +were ablaze. + +She had expected to find Mrs. Sparrow in an agitation of terror; but, +behold! she was in her bed, sound asleep. Happily, it was easy to get at +her. Nursey's theory was that, "if anybody thought it would pay him to +sit up at night and rob an old woman, he'd do it anyway, and needn't +have the trouble of getting in at the window;" and on the strength of +this philosophical utterance, she went to bed with the door on the +latch. + +She took Elsie for a dream, at first. + +"I'm just a-dreaming. I ain't a-going to wake up; you needn't think it," +she muttered sleepily. + +But when Elsie at last shook her into consciousness, and pointed at the +fiery glow on the horizon, her terror matched her previous unconcern. + +"Oh, dear, dear!" she wailed, as with trembling, suddenly stiff fingers +she put on her clothes. "I'm a-going to be burned out! It's hard, at my +time of life, just when I had got things tidy and comfortable. I was +a-thinking of sending over for my niece to the Isle of Dogs, and getting +her to come and stay with me, I was indeed, Missy. But there won't be +any use in that _now_." + +"Perhaps the fire won't come so far as this, after all," said the +practical Elsie. + +"Oh, yes, it will! It's 'most here now." + +"Well, whether it does or not, I'm going to carry you home with me, +where you will be safe. Now, Nursey, tell me which of your things you +care most for, that we can take with us,--small things, I mean. Of +course we can't carry tables and beds in my little cart." + +The selection proved difficult. Nurse's affections clung to a tall +eight-day clock, and were hard to be detached. She also felt strongly +that it was a clear flying in the face of Providence not to save +"Sparrow's chair," a solid structure of cherry, with rockers weighing +many pounds, and quite as wide as the wagon. Elsie coaxed and +remonstrated, and at last got Nursey into the seat, with the cat and a +bundle of her best clothes in her lap, her tea-spoons in her pocket, a +basket of specially beloved baking-tins under the seat, and a favorite +feather-bed at the back, among whose billowy folds were tucked away an +assortment of treasures, ending with the Thanksgiving goodies which had +been brought over that morning. + +"I can't leave that turkey behind, Missy, dear--I really can't!" pleaded +Nursey. "I've been thinking of him, and anticipating how good he was +going to be, all day; and I haven't had but one taste of your pie. +They're so little, they'll go in anywhere." + +The fire seemed startlingly near now, and the western sky was all +aflame, while over against it, in the east, burned the first yellow +beams of dawn. People were astir by this time, and men on foot and +horseback were hurrying toward the burning woods. They stared curiously +at the oddly laden cart. + +"Why, you didn't ever come over for me all alone!" cried Nurse Sparrow, +rousing suddenly to a sense of the situation. "I've be'n that flustered +that I never took thought of how you got across, or anything about it. +Where was your Pa, Missy,--and Hiram?" + +Elsie explained. + +"Oh, you blessed child; and if you hadn't come, I'd have been burned in +my bed, as like as not!" cried the old woman, quite overpowered. "Well, +well! little did I think, when you was a baby, and I a-tending you, that +the day was to come when you were to run yourself into danger for the +sake of saving my poor old life!" + +"I don't see that there has been any particular danger for me to run, so +far; and as for saving your life, Nursey, it would very likely have +saved itself if I hadn't come near you. See, the wind has changed; it +is blowing from the north now. Perhaps the fire won't reach your house, +after all. But, anyway, I am glad you are here and not there. We cannot +be too careful of such a dear old Nursey as you are. And one thing, I +think, you'll confess,"--Elsie's tone was a little mischievous,--"and +that is, that harnessing classes have their uses. If I hadn't known how +to put Jack in the cart, I might at this moment be hammering on the door +of that stupid Hiram (who, you know, sleeps like a log) trying to wake +him, and you on the clearing alone, scared to death. Now, Nursey, own +up: Mrs. Thanet wasn't so far wrong, now was she?" + +"Indeed, no, Missy. It'd be very ungrateful for me to be saying that. +The lady judged wiser than I did." + +"Very well, then," cried Elsie, joyously. "If only your house isn't +burned up, I shall be glad the fire happened; for it's such a triumph +for Mrs. Thanet, and she'll be so pleased!" + +Nursey's house did not burn down. The change of wind came just in time +to save it; and, after eating her own Thanksgiving turkey in her old +home, and being petted and made much of for a few days, she went back, +none the worse for her adventure, to find her goods and chattels in +their usual places, and all safe. + +And Mrs. Thanet _was_ pleased. She sent Elsie a pretty locket, with the +date of the fire engraved upon it, and wrote that she gloried in her as +the Vindicator of a Principle, which fine words made Elsie laugh; but +she enjoyed being praised all the same. + + + + +DOLLY PHONE. + + +A dusty workshop, dark except where one broad ray of light streamed +through a broken shutter, a row of mysterious objects, with a tiny tin +funnel fitted into the front of each, and a cloth over their tops, odd +designs in wood and brass hanging on the wall, a carpenter's bench, a +small furnace, a general strew of shavings, iron scrape, and odds and +ends, and a little girl sitting on the floor, crying. It does not sound +much like the beginning of a story, does it? And no one would have been +more surprised than Amy Carpenter herself if any one had come as she sat +there crying, and told her that a story was begun, and she was in it. + +Yet that is the way in which stories in real life often do begin. Dust, +dulness, every-day things about one, tears, temper; and out of these +unpromising materials Fate weaves a "happening" for us. She does not +wait till skies are blue and suns shine, till the room is dusted, and we +are all ready, but chooses such time as pleases her, and surprises us. + +Amy was in as evil a temper as little girls of ten are often visited +with. Things had gone very wrong with her that day. It began with a +great disappointment. All Miss Gray's class at school was going on a +picnic. Amy had expected to go too, and at the last moment her mother +had kept her at home. + +"I'm real sorry about it," Mrs. Carpenter had said, "but you see how it +is. Baby's right fretty with his teeth, and your father's that worried +about his machine that I'm afraid he'll be down sick. If we can't keep +Baby quiet, father can't eat, and if he don't eat he won't sleep, and if +he can't sleep he can't work, and then I don't see what will become of +us. I've all that sewing to finish for Mrs. Judge Peters, and she's +going away Monday; and if she don't have it in time, she'll be put out, +and, as like as not, give her work to some one else. Now, don't cry, +Amy. I'm right sorry to disappoint you, but all of us must take our turn +in giving up things. I'm sure I take mine," with a little patient sigh. + +"Father's sure that this new machine of his is going to make our +fortune," she went on, after an interval of busy stitching. "But I don't +know. He said just the same about the alarm-clock, and the Imferno +Reaper and Binder, and that thing-a-my-jig for opening cans, and the +self-registering Savings Bank, and the Minute Egg-Beater, and the Tuck +Measurer, and none of them came to anything in the end. Perhaps it'll be +the same with this." Another sigh, a little deeper than the last. + +Some little girls might have been touched with the tired, discouraged +voice and look, but Amy was a stormy child, with a hot temper and a very +strong will. So instead of being sorry and helpful, she went on crying +and complaining, till her mother spoke sharply, and then subsided into +sulky silence. Baby woke, and she had to take him up, but she did it +unwillingly, and her unhappy mood seemed to communicate itself to him, +as moods will. He wriggled and twisted in her arms, and presently began +to whimper. Amy hushed and patted. She set him on his feet, she turned +him over on his face, nothing pleased him. The whimper increased to a +roar. + +"Dear! dear!" cried poor Mrs. Carpenter, stopping her machine in the +middle of a long seam. "What is the matter? I never did see anybody so +unhandy with a baby as you are. Here I am in such a hurry, and you +don't try to amuse him worth a cent. I'm really ashamed of you, Amy +Carpenter." + +Amy's back and arms ached; she felt that this speech was cruelly unjust. +What she did not see was that it was her own temper which was repeated +in her little brother. Like all babies, he knew instinctively the +difference between loving tendance and that which is bestowed from a +cold sense of duty, and he resented the latter with all his might. + +"Do walk up and down and sing to him," said Mrs. Carpenter, who hated to +have her child unhappy, but still more to leave her sewing,--"sing +something cheerful. Perhaps he'll go to sleep if you do." + +So Amy, feeling very cross and injured, had to walk the heavy baby up +and down, and sing "Rock me to sleep, Mother," which was the only +"cheerful" song she could think of. It quieted the baby for a while, +then, just as his eyelids were drooping, a fresh attack of fretting +seized upon him, and he began to cry; Amy was so vexed that she gave him +a furtive slap. It was a very little slap, but her mother saw it. + +"You naughty, bad girl!" she cried, jumping up; "so that's the way you +treat your little brother, is it? Slapping him on the sly! No wonder he +doesn't like you, and won't go to sleep!" She snatched the child away, +and gave Amy a smart box on the ear. Mrs. Carpenter, though a good +woman, had a quick temper of her own. + +"You can go up-stairs now," she said in a stern, exasperated tone. "I +don't want you any more this afternoon. If you were a good girl, you +might have been a real comfort to me this hard day, but as it is, I'd +rather have your room than your company." + +Frightened and angry both, Amy rushed up-stairs, and into her father's +workshop, the door of which stood open. He had just gone out, and the +confusion and dreariness of the place seemed inviting to her at the +moment. Flinging the door to with a great bang, she threw herself on the +floor, and gave vent to her pent-up emotions. + +"It's unjust!" she sobbed, speaking louder than usual, as people do who +are in a passion. "Mamma is as mean as she can be! Scolding me because +that old baby wouldn't go to sleep! I hate everybody! I wish I was dead! +I wish everybody else was dead!" + +These were dreadful words for a little girl to use. Even in her anger, +Amy would have been startled and ashamed at the idea of any one's ever +hearing them. + +But Amy had a listener, though she little suspected it, and, what was +worse, a listener who was recording every word that she uttered! + +The "new machine" of which Mrs. Carpenter had spoken was really a very +clever and ingenious one. It was the adaptation of the phonographic +principle to the person of a doll. Mr. Carpenter had succeeded in +interesting somebody with capital in his project, and the dolls were at +that moment being manufactured for the apparatus, the construction of +which he kept in his own hands. This apparatus was held in small +cylinders, just large enough to fit into the body of a doll and contain, +each, a few sentences, which the doll would seem to speak when set in an +upright position. + +These cylinders were just ready, and standing in a row waiting to +receive their "charges," which were to be put into them through the tin +funnels fitted for the purpose. Amy, as she sat on the floor, was +exactly opposite one of these funnels, and all her angry words passed +into, and became a part of, the mechanism of the doll. After this, no +matter how many pretty words might be uttered softly into that cylinder, +none of them could make any impression; the doll was full. It could hold +no more. + +But no one knew that the doll was full. Amy, her fit of passion over, +fell asleep on the floor, and when her father's step sounded below, +waked in a calmer mood. She was sorry that she had been so naughty, and +tried to make up for it by being more helpful and patient in the evening +and next day. Her mother easily forgave her, and she did not find it +hard to forgive herself, and soon forgot the event of that unhappy +afternoon. Mr. Carpenter sat down in front of his cylinders that night, +and filled them all, as he supposed, with nice little sentences to +please and surprise small doll owners, such as "Good morning, Mamma. +Shall I put on my pink or my olive frock this morning?" or "Good-night, +Mamma. I'm so sleepy!" or bits of nursery rhymes,--Bo Peep or Jack and +Jill or Little Boy Blue. Then, when the phonographs were filled, the +machinery went away to be put in the dolls, and Mr. Carpenter began on a +fresh set. + +Mrs. Carpenter, meanwhile, had finished her big job of sewing, so she +felt less hurried, and had more time for the baby. The weather was +beautiful, things went well at school, and altogether life seemed +pleasant to Amy, and she found it easy to be kind and good-natured. + +This agreeable state of things lasted through the autumn. The +Dolliphone, as Mr. Carpenter had christened his invention, proved a hit. +Orders poured in from all over the United States, and from England and +France, and the manufactory was taxed to its utmost extent. At last one +of Mr. Carpenter's inventions had turned out a success, and his spirits +rose high. + +"We've fetched it this time, Mother," he told his wife. "The stock's +going up like all possessed, and the dolls are going out as fast as we +can get them ready. Why, we've had orders from as far off as Australia! +China'll come next, I suppose, or the Cannibal Islands. There's no end +to the money that's in it." + +"I'm glad, Robert, I'm sure," returned Mrs. Carpenter; "but don't count +too much upon it all. I've thought a heap of that self-acting churn, you +remember." + +"Pshaw! the churn never did amount to shucks anyhow," said her husband, +who had the true inventor's faculty for forgetting the mischances of the +past in the contemplation of the hopes of the future. "It was just a +little dud to make folks open their eyes, any way. This Dolliphone is +different. It's bound to sell like wild-fire, once it gets to going. +We'll be rich folks before we know it, Mother." + +"That'll be nice," said Mrs. Carpenter, with a dry, unbelieving cough. +She did not mean to be as discouraging as she sounded, but a woman can +scarcely be the wife of an unsuccessful genius for fifteen years, and +see the family earnings vanish down the throat of one invention after +another, without becoming outwardly, as well as inwardly, discouraged. + +"Now, don't be a wet blanket, Mother," said Mr. Carpenter, +good-humoredly. "We've had some upsets in our calculation, I confess, +but this time it's all coming out right, as you'll see. And I wanted to +ask you about something, and that is what you'd think of Amy's having +one of the dolls for her Christmas? Don't you think it'd please her?" + +"Why, of course; but do you think you can afford it, Robert? The dolls +are five dollars, aren't they?" + +"Yes, to customers they are, but I shouldn't have to pay anything like +that, of course. I can have one for cost price, say a dollar +seventy-five; so if you think the child would like it, we'll fix it so." + +"Well, I should be glad to have Amy get one," said Mrs. Carpenter, +brightening up. "And it seems only right that she should, when you +invented it and all. She's been pretty good these last weeks, and she'll +be mightily tickled." + +So it was settled, but the pile of orders to be filled was so incessant +that it was not till Christmas Eve that Mr. Carpenter could get hold of +a doll for his own use, and no time was left in which to dress it. That +was no matter, Mrs. Carpenter declared; Amy would like to make the +clothes herself, and it would be good practice in sewing. She hunted up +some pieces of cambric and flannel and scraps of ribbon for the purpose, +and when Amy woke on Christmas morning, there by her side lay the big, +beautiful creature, with flaxen hair, long-lashed blue eyes, and a +dimple in her pink chin. Beside her was a parcel containing the +materials for her clothes and a new spool of thread, and on the doll's +arm was pinned a paper with this inscription:-- + + "_For Amy, with a Merry Christmas from Father and Mother._ + + "_Her name is Dolly Phone._" + +Amy's only doll up to this time had been a rag one, manufactured by her +mother, and you can imagine her delight. She hugged Dolly Phone to her +heart, kissed her twenty times over, and examined all her beauties in +detail,--her lovely bang, her hands, and her little feet, which had +brown kid shoes sewed on them, and the smile on her lips, which showed +two tiny white teeth. She stood her up on the quilt to see how tall she +was, and as she did so, wonder of wonders, out of these smiling red lips +came a voice, sharp and high-pitched, as if a canary-bird or a +Jew's-harp were suddenly endowed with speech, and began to talk to her! + +What did the voice say? Not "Good-morning, Mamma," or "I'm so sleepy!" +or "Mistress Mary quite contrary," or "Twinkle, twinkle, little +star,"--none of these things. Her sister dolls might have said these +things; what Dolly Phone said, speaking fast and excitedly, was,-- + +"It's unjust! Mamma is as mean as she can be! Scolding me because that +old baby wouldn't go to sleep! I hate everybody! I wish I was dead! I +wish everybody else was dead!" And then, in a different tone, a good +deal deeper, "Good-morning, ma-m--" and there the voice stopped +suddenly. + +Amy had listened to this remarkable address with astonishment. That her +beautiful new baby could speak, was delightful, but what horrible things +she said! + +"How queerly you talk, darling!" she cried, snatching the doll into her +arms again. "What is the matter? Why do you speak so to me? Are you +alive, or only making believe? I'm not mean; what makes you say I am? +And, oh! why do you wish you were dead?" + +Dolly stared full in her face with an unwinking smile. She looked +perfectly good-natured. Amy began to think that she was dreaming, or +that the whole thing was some queer trick. + +"There, there, dear!" she cried, patting the doll's back, "we won't say +any more about it. You love me now, I know you do!" + +Then, very gently and cautiously, she set Dolly on her feet again. +"Perhaps she'll say something nice this time," she thought hopefully. + +Alas! the rosy lips only uttered the self-same words. "Mean--unjust--I +hate everybody--I wish everybody was dead," in sharp, unpitying +sequence. Worst of all, the phrases began to have a familiar sound to +Amy's ear. She felt her cheeks burn with a sudden red. + +"Why," she thought, "that was what I said in the workshop the day I was +so cross. How could the doll know? Oh, dear! she's so lovely and so +beautiful, but if she keeps on talking like this, what shall I do?" + +Deep in her heart struggled an uneasy fear. Mother would hear the doll! +Mother might suspect what it meant! At all hazards, Dolly must be kept +from talking while mother was by. + +She was so quiet and subdued when she went downstairs to breakfast, with +the doll in her arms, that her father and mother could not understand +it. They had looked forward to seeing her boisterously joyful. She +kissed them, and thanked them, and tried to seem like her usual self, +but mothers' eyes are sharp, and Mrs. Carpenter detected the look of +trouble. + +"What's the matter, dear?" she whispered. "Don't you feel well?" + +"Oh, yes! very well. Nothing's the matter." Amy whispered back, keeping +the terrible Dolly sedulously prone, as she spoke. + +"Come, Amy, let's see your new baby," said Mr. Carpenter. "She's a +beauty, ain't she? Half of her was made in this house, did you know +that? Set her up, and let's hear her talk." + +"She's asleep now," faltered Amy. "But she's been talking up-stairs. She +talks very nicely, Papa. She's tired now, truly she is." + +"Nonsense! she isn't the kind that gets tired. Her tongue won't ache if +she runs on all day; she's like some little girls in that. Stand her up, +Amy, I want to hear her. I've never seen one of 'em out of the shop +before. She looks wonderfully alive, doesn't she, Mother?" + +But Amy still hesitated. Her manner was so strange that her father grew +impatient at last, and, reaching out, took the doll from her, and set it +sharply on the table. The little button on the sole of the foot set the +curious instrument within in motion. As prepared phrases were rolled off +in shrill succession, Mr. Carpenter leaned forward to listen. When the +sounds ended, he raised his head with a look of bewilderment. + +"Why--why--what is the creature at?" he exclaimed. "That isn't what I +put into her. 'I Wish I was dead! Wish everybody else was dead!' I can't +understand it at all. I charged all the dolls myself, and there wasn't a +word like that in the whole batch. If the others have gone wrong like +this, it's all up with our profits." + +He looked so troubled and down-hearted that Amy could bear it no longer. + +"It's all my fault!" she cried, bursting into tears. "Somehow it's all +my fault, though I can't tell how, for it was I who said those things. I +said those very things, Papa, in your workshop one day when I was in a +temper. Don't you recollect the day, Mother,--the day when I didn't go +to the picnic, and Baby wouldn't go to sleep, and I slapped him, and you +boxed my ears? I went up-stairs, and I was crying, and I said,--yes, I +think I said every word of those things, though I forgot all about them +till Dolly said them to me this morning, and how she could possibly +know, I can't imagine." + +"But I can imagine," said her father. "Where did you sit that day, Amy?" + +"On the floor, by the door." + +"Was there a row of things close by, with tin funnels stuck in them and +a cloth over the top?" + +"I think there was. I recollect the funnels." + +"Then that's all right!" exclaimed Mr. Carpenter, his face clearing up. +"Those were the phonographs, Mother, and, don't you see, she must have +been exactly opposite one of the funnels, and her voice went in and +filled it. It's the best kind of good luck that that cylinder happened +to be put into her doll. If all that bad language had gone to anybody +else, there would have been the mischief to pay. Folks would have been +writing to the papers, as like as not, or the ministers preaching +against the dolls as a bad influence. It would have ruined the whole +concern, and all your fault, Amy." + +"Oh, Papa, how dreadful! how perfectly dreadful!" was all Amy could say, +but she sobbed so wildly that her father's anger melted. + +"There, don't cry," he said more kindly; "we won't be too hard on you on +Christmas Day. Wipe your eyes, and we'll try to think no more about it, +especially as the spoiled doll has fallen to your own share, and no real +harm is done." + +In his relief Mr. Carpenter was disposed to pass lightly over the +matter. Not so his wife. She took a more serious view of it. + +"You see, Amy," she said that night when they chanced to be alone, "you +see how a hasty word sticks and lasts. You never supposed that day that +the things you said would ever come back to you again, but here they +are." + +"Yes--because of the doll,--of her inside, I mean. It heard." + +"But if the doll hadn't heard, some one would have heard all the same." + +"Do you mean God?" asked Amy, in an awe-struck voice. + +"Yes. He hears every word that we say, the minister tells us, and writes +them all down in a book. If it frightened you to have the doll repeat +the words you had forgotten, think how much more it will frighten you, +and all of us, when that book is opened and all the wrong things we have +ever said are read out for the whole world to hear." + +Mrs. Carpenter did not often speak so solemnly, and it made a great +impression on Amy's mind. She still plays with Dolly Phone, and loves +her, in a way, but it is a love which is mingled with fear. The doll is +like a reproach of conscience to her. That is not pleasant, so she is +kept flat on her back most of the time. Only, now and then, when Amy has +been cross and said a sharp word, and is sorry for it, she solemnly +takes Dolly, sets her on her feet, and, as a penance, makes herself +listen to all the hateful string of phrases which form her stock of +conversation. + +"It's horrid, but it's good for me," she tells the baby, who listens +with a look of fascinated wonder. "I shall have to keep her, and let her +talk that way, till I'm such a good girl that there isn't any danger of +my ever being naughty again. And that must be for a long, long time +yet," she concludes with a sigh. + + + + +A NURSERY TYRANT. + + +It was such a pleasant old nursery that it seemed impossible that +anything disagreeable should enter into it. The three southern windows +stood open in all pleasant weather, letting in cheerful sun and air. For +cold days there was a generous grate, full of blazing coals, and guarded +by a high fender of green-painted wire. There were little cupboards set +in the deep sides of the chimney. The two on the left were Barbara's and +Eunice's; the two to the right, Reggy's and Roger's. Here they kept +their own particular treasures under lock and key; while little May, the +left-over one, was accommodated with two shelves inside the closet +where they all hung their hats and coats. + +No one slept in this nursery, but all the Erskine children spent a good +part of the daytime in it. Here they studied their lessons, and played +when it was too stormy to go out; there the little ones were dressed and +undressed, and all five took their suppers there every night. They liked +it better than any other room in the house, partly, I suppose, because +they lived so much in it. + +Barbara was the eldest of the brood. It would have shocked her very +much, had she guessed that any one was ever going to speak of her as a +"tyrant." Her idea of a tyrant was a lofty personage with a crown on his +head, like Xerxes, or King John, or the Emperor Nero. She had not gotten +far enough in life or history to know that the same thing can be done in +a small house that is done on a throne; and that tyranny is tyranny even +when it is not bridging the Dardanelles, or flinging Christians to the +wild beasts, or refusing to sign Magna Charta. In short, that the +principle of a thing is its real life, and makes it the same, whether +its extent or opportunities be more or less. + +This particular tyrant was a bright, active, self-willed little girl of +eleven, with a pair of brown eyes, a mop of curly brown hair, pink +cheeks, and a mouth which was so rosy and smiled so often that people +forgot to notice the resolute little chin beneath it. She was very +good-humored when everybody minded her, warm-hearted, generous, full of +plans and fancies, and anxious to make everybody happy in her own way. +She also cared a good deal about being liked and admired, as self-willed +people often do; and whenever she fancied that the children loved Eunice +better than herself (which was the case), she was grieved, and felt that +it was unfair. "For I do a great deal more to please them than Eunie +does," she would say to herself, forgetting that not what we do, but +what we are, it is which makes us beloved or otherwise. + +But though the younger ones loved Eunice best, they were much more apt +to do as Barbara wished, partly because it was easier than to oppose +her, and partly because she and her many ideas and projects interested +them. They never knew what was coming next; and they seldom dared to +make up their minds about anything, or form any wishes of their own, +till they knew what their despot had decided upon. Eunice was gentle and +yielding, Mary almost a baby; but the boys, as they grew older, +occasionally showed signs of rebellion, and though Barbara put these +down with an iron hand, they were likely to come again with fresh +provocation. + +The fifteenth of May was always a festival in the Erskine household. +"Mamma's May Day," the children called it, because not only was it their +mother's birthday, but it also took the place of the regular May Day, +which was apt to be too cold or windy for celebration. The children +were allowed to choose their own treat, and they always chose a picnic +and a May crowning. Barbara was invariably queen, as a matter of course, +and she made a very good one, and expended much time and ingenuity in +inventing something new each year to make the holiday different from +what it had ever been before. She always kept her plans secret till the +last moment, to enhance the pleasure of the surprise. + +It never occurred to any one, least of all to Barbara herself, that +there could be rotation in office, or that any one else should be chosen +as queen. Still, changes of dynasty will come to families as well as to +kingdoms; and Queen Barbara found this out. + +"Eunie, I want you to do something," she said, one afternoon in late +April, producing two long pieces of stiff white tarlatan; "please sew +this up _there_ and there, and hem it _there_,--not nice sewing, you +know, but big stitches." + +"What is it for?" asked Eunie, obediently receiving the tarlatan, and +putting on her thimble. + +"Ah, that is a secret," replied Barbara. "You'll know by and by." + +"Can't you tell me now?" + +"No, not till Mother's May Day. I'll tell you then." + +"Oh, Barbie," cried Eunice, dropping the tarlatan, "I wanted to speak to +you before you began anything. The children want little Mary to be the +queen this year." + +"Mary! Why? I've always been queen. What do they want to change for? +Mary wouldn't know how to do it, and I've such a nice plan for this +year!" + +"Your plans always are nice," said the peace-loving Eunice; "but, +Barbie, really and truly, we do all want to have Mary this time. She's +so cunning and pretty, and you've always been queen, you know. It was +the boys thought of it first, and they want her ever so much. Do let +her, just for once." + +"Why, Eunice, I wouldn't have believed you could be so unkind!" said +Barbara, in an aggrieved tone. "It's not a bit fair to turn me out, when +I've always worked so hard at the May Day, and done _everything_, while +the rest of you just sat by and enjoyed yourselves, and had all the fun +and none of the trouble." + +"But the boys think the trouble is half the fun," persisted Eunice. +"They would rather take it than not. Don't you think it would be nice to +be a maid of honor, just for once?"--persuasively. + +"No, indeed, I don't!" retorted Barbara, passionately. "Be maid of +honor, and have that baby of a Mary, queen! You must be crazy, Eunice +Erskine. I'll be queen or nothing, you can tell the boys; and if I +backed out, and didn't help, I guess you'd all be sorry enough." So +saying, Barbara marched off, with her chin in the air. She was not +really much afraid that her usually obedient subjects would resist her +authority; but she had found that this injured way of speaking impressed +the children, and helped her to carry her points. + +So she was surprised enough, when that evening, at supper, she noticed a +constraint of manner among the rest of the party. The children looked +sober. Reggy whispered to Eunice, Roger kicked Reggy, and at last burst +out with, "Now, see here, Barbie Erskine, we want to tell you something. +We're going to have Baby for queen this time, and not you, and that's +all there is about it." + +"Roger," said the indignant Barbara, "how dare you speak so? You're not +going to have anything of the kind unless I say you may." + +"Yes, we are. Mamma says we ought to take turns, and we never have. +Nobody has ever had a turn except you, and you keep having yours all +the time. We don't want the same queen always, and this year we've +chosen Mary." + +"Roger Erskine!" cried Barbara, hotly. "You're the rudest boy that ever +was!" Then she turned to the others. "Now listen to me," she said. "I've +made all my plans for this year, and they're perfectly lovely. I won't +tell you what they are, exactly, because it would spoil the surprise, +but there's going to be an angel! An angel--with wings! What do you +think of that? You'd be sorry if I gave it up, wouldn't you? Well, if +one more word is said about Mary's being queen, I will give it up, and I +won't help you a bit. Now you can choose." + +Her tone was awfully solemn, but the children did not give way. Even the +hint about the angel produced no effect. Eunice began, "I'm sure, +Barbie--" but Reggy stopped her with, "Shut up, Eunice! Everybody in +favor of Mary for queen, can hold up their hands," he called out. + +Six hands went up. Eunice raised hers in a deprecating way, but she +raised it. "It's a vote," cried Roger. Barbara glared at them all with +helpless wrath; then she said, in a choked voice, "Oh, well! have your +old picnic, then. I sha'n't come to it," and ran out of the room, +leaving her refractory subjects almost frightened at their own success. + +Two unhappy weeks followed. True to her threat, Barbara refused to take +any share in the holiday preparations. She sat about in corners, sulky +and unhappy, while the others worked, or tried to work. Sooth to say, +they missed her help very much, and did badly enough without her, but +they would not let her know this. The boys whistled as they drove nails, +and _sounded_ very contented and happy. + +Presently Fate sent them a new ally. Aunt Kate, the young aunt whom the +children liked best of all their relations, came on a visit, and, +finding so much going on, bestirred herself to help. She was not long in +missing Barbara, and she easily guessed out the position of affairs, +though the children made no explanations. + +One afternoon, leaving the others hard at work, she went in search of +Barbara, who had hidden herself away with a book, in the shrubbery. + +"Why are you all alone?" she asked, sitting down beside her. + +"I don't know where the others are," said Barbara, moodily. + +"They are tying wreaths to dress the tent to-morrow. Don't you want to +go and help them?" + +"No, they don't want me! Oh, Aunt Kate!" with a sudden burst of +confidence, "they have treated me so! You can't think how they have +treated me!" + +"Why, what have they done?" + +"I've always been queen on mother's May Day,--always. And this year I +meant to be again. And I had such a nice plan for the coronation, and +then they all chose Mary." + +"Well?" + +"They insisted on having Mary for queen, though I told them I wouldn't +help if they did," repeated Barbara. + +"Well?" + +"Well? That's all. What do you mean, Aunty?" + +"I was waiting to hear you tell the real grievance. That the children +should want Mary for queen, when you have been one so many times, +doesn't seem to be a reason." + +Barbara was too much surprised to speak. + +"Yes, my dear, I mean it," persisted her aunt. "Now let us talk this +over. Why should you always be queen on Mamma's birthday? Who gave you +the right, I mean?" + +"The children liked to have me," faltered Barbara. + +"Precisely. But this year they liked to have Mary." + +"But I worked so hard, Aunty. You can't think how I worked. I did +everything; and sometimes I got dreadfully tired." + +"Was that to please the others?" + +"Y-es--" + +"Or would they rather have helped in the work, and did you keep it to +yourself because you liked to do it alone?" asked Aunt Kate, with a +smile. "Now, my Barbie, listen to me. You have led always because you +liked to lead, and the others submitted to you. But no one can govern +forever. The rest are growing up; they have their own rights and their +own opinions. You cannot go on always ruling them as you did when they +were little. Do you want to be a good, useful older sister, loved and +trusted, or to have Eunice slip into your place, and be the real elder +sister, while you gradually become a cipher in the family?" + +Barbara began to cry. + +"Dear child," said Aunty Kate, kissing her, "now is your chance. +Influence, not authority, should be a sister's weapon. If you want to +lead the children, you must do it with a smile, not a pout." + +The children were surprised enough that evening when Barbara came up to +offer to help tie wreaths. Her eyes looked as if she had been crying, +but she was very kind and nice all that night and next day. She was maid +of honor to little Queen Mary, after all. Eunice gave her a rapturous +kiss afterward, and said, "Oh, Barbie, how _dear_ you are!" and, +somehow, Barbara forgot to feel badly about not being queen. Some +defeats are better than victories. + + + + +WHAT THE PINK FLAMINGO DID. + + +The great pink flamingo roused from his resting-place among the sedges +when the noise began. At first he only stirred sleepily, and wondered, +half awake, at the unusual sounds; but as they increased, curiosity +began to trouble him. Party after party in launches or bright-hued +gondolas glided past, all gay and chattering, and full of excitement +about something, he did not know what. It was the first night on which +the buildings and grounds of the Chicago Fair were illuminated, and the +flamingo could not tell what to make of it, any more than could the +herons and swans, the Muscovy ducks, the cranes, or any other of the +winged creatures which had learned to make themselves at home on the +banks of the lagoons. + +The pink flamingo's name was Coco. He had been "raised" on the shore of +the St. Johns River, in Florida, as the pet and _protégé_ of Cecil +Schott, a boy who had taught him many tricks,--to catch fish and fetch +them out in his mouth, as a retriever fetches a bird, to eat caramels, +to dive after objects thrown into the water and bring them up in his +beak:--after Cecil himself even, so long as he was small enough to be +counted as an "object." Often and often had Coco plunged into the deep +river, following the downward sweep of his little master, and seized him +by the arm or foot before he was anywhere near the bottom. He would eat +from Cecil's hand, also, and stand by his side, folding one wide wing +across the boy's shoulder, as though it were an arm. Cecil was growing +up now, and had been sent to school; so when Mr. Schott heard that the +Chicago directors were making a collection of birds for the Fair +Grounds, he offered Coco, whose fearlessness and familiarity with human +beings seemed peculiarly to adapt him for a public position. + +When the fifth electrical launch had sped past the sedges, and strange, +hovering lights began to burn in the sky, and ring the domes and roofs +in the distance toward the south, Coco could endure it no longer, and, +betaking himself to the water, started on a tour of investigation. He +looked very big in the dim light of the upper waterways,--almost as big +as the smaller of the gondolas. The people in the boats exclaimed with +astonishment as he passed them, his broad wings raised above him, like +rose-colored sails, and his stout legs beating the water into foam +behind, like a propeller. + +At first his course lay amid soft shadows. The upper part of the Fair +Grounds was not illuminated, and only a bird's keen vision could have +made out accustomed objects. But the flamingo had no difficulty in +seeing. He knew exactly where to look for the nest of the female swan on +the wooded island. He could even make out her dim white shape in the +gloom, and hear the disturbed flutter of her wings. There was the +plantation of white hyacinths, and there the outline of the shabby old +"Prairie Schooner," into which he had more than once poked his +inquisitive head. There stood the "Log Cabin," and beyond, the twinkling +lanterns of the Japanese Tea Garden. The pink flamingo recognized them +all. Under one graceful bridge after another, past one enormous +beautiful building after another, he swept, following the curves and +turnings of the waterways, startled here and there by unaccustomed +lights and the sounds of a hurrying crowd, till at last, with one bold +sweep, he glided under the last arch and out into the broad basin of the +Court of Honor. + +He had been there before. Catch the pink flamingo leaving any part of +the Fair Grounds unexplored! He was not that sort of bird. He had even +been there in the evening, when the moon shone clearly on the water, +with only a point of light here and there on the surrounding shores, and +no sounds to break the stillness but the plash of waves washing in from +the lake, and the low talk of little groups of late-stayers, sitting on +the steps before the Liberal Arts Building, looking across to the +fountain and the dim row of sculptured forms on the summit of the +Peristyle. But now all was different. The gilded dome of the +Administration Building was ringed with lines of fire. The façade of the +Agricultural blazed with lights, which shone on the bas-reliefs and +sculptures, on the winged Diana above, and the great bulls which guard +the approach to the boat-landing. Every figure which topped the long +double lines of the Peristyle stood out distinctly against the +transparent sky; the gilding of the broad arch toward the lake glowed +ruddy in the light, and so did the majestic figure of the Republic, its +noble outline reflected in the shimmering waters beneath. The great +fountain opposite caught the blaze, and sent its smooth shoots over the +basin edges with a white phosphorescent radiance. Then a wide beam from +a search-light swept across, and seemed to turn the figures into life; +made the form of the Discoverer and the beautiful figures of the rowing +women on either side, throb and pulsate, fluctuating with the +fluctuating ray, till they seemed to bend and move. On either side, the +electrical fountains lifted high in air great sheaves of iridescent +colors, scarlet, green, and blue, like a flag of upheaving jewels, while +the faces of the immense throng along the esplanades and on the dome of +the Administration Building changed from gloom to glory and back again +to gloom as the dancing ray wandered to and fro. + +It was a scene from fairyland; but it did not altogether please Coco, +who, startled and affrighted, made a dive, and disappeared under water +by way of a relief to his feelings. Then he came up again, and, growing +by degrees accustomed to these novel splendors, he recovered confidence, +and began to look about him. + +"Oh, what a beautiful bird!" he heard some one say; and though he did +not understand the words, he knew well enough that he was being admired, +and thereupon proceeded to make himself a part of the show. He splashed, +dived, extended his wide wings, curved his long neck, and generally +exhibited himself to the best of his ability, all the time maintaining +an absent-minded air, as if he were not aware that any one else was +present. Coco was very conceited for a bird. + +Meanwhile, at about the same moment in which the pink flamingo was +roused from his slumbers, a small Turkish boy named Hassan awoke from +his, in the retirement of the Midway Plaisance. He had not been at all +a good little Turk since he came to America, his parents thought. +Something in the air of freedom had apparently demoralized him. It might +be that domestic discipline had been relaxed since their arrival, for +there had been much to do in getting the Turkish Bazaar and the Mosque +and the Village ready; but certain it is that Hassan had been naughtier +and given more trouble during the past ten weeks than in all the +previous years of his short life. Once, in a great rain-storm, he had +actually run away, slipping past the guard at the gate, and tearing +wildly down the street. Where he was going, he did not know or care; all +he wanted was to run. How far he might have gone, or what would have +become of him in the end, no one can say, had his father not caught a +glimpse of the small fleeting figure. + +"Beard of the Prophet!" ejaculated the scandalized Mustapha. "That son +of Sheitan, the enemy of true believers, will be run over by the horses +of the infidel if I do not overtake him speedily." + +He tucked up his blue robe, which almost touched the muddy ground, it +was so long, revealing, as he did so, yellow boots topped with American +socks, and, above these, a pair of green drawers, and started in +pursuit. Alas! the guard at the turnstile stopped him, and demanded his +pass. In vain Mustapha remonstrated, and explained, in fluent Turkish, +that his sole object was to capture his evil child, who had escaped from +home. The guard did not understand the language of Turkey, and +persisted, explaining, in the tongue of Chicago, that he was acting +under orders, and that no "foreigner" could go in or out without proper +authority. + +"Permit! Permit! Pass! Pass! You must show your pass!" cried the guard. +"_Backsheesh_, you know." + +It was his sole Turkish word. He had learned it since the Fair opened +from hearing it so often. + +"You bet!" responded Mustapha. It was his sole English word. "The +Prophet visit you with a murrain and total baldness!" he continued, in +his own vernacular. Then, seeing that Hassan, who was having a most +enjoyable time, was nearing a corner and about to disappear, he uttered +a wild shout of despair, and, thrusting the guard aside, darted through +the gate and after the child. His long petticoat waggled in the wind, +and blew behind him like a wet umbrella broken loose. The guard was so +convulsed with laughter that he could only stand still and hold his +sides. Two chairmen, who had trundled two ladies down the Plaisance to +the gate, were as much convulsed as he. Little Hassan ran for all he was +worth. His gown of drab cotton, as long, in proportion, as his father's, +switched and fluttered as he flew along. But longer legs always have +the advantage over shorter ones in a race. The pursuer gained on the +pursued. When Hassan saw that there was no hope, and he was bound to be +overtaken, he just flung himself down in a mud-puddle and kicked and +screamed. His exasperated parent pulled him up, and, with a shake, set +him on his feet. Hassan made his legs limp, and refused to walk; so +Mustapha tucked him under his arm, and strode back toward the Plaisance. +The guard was still too doubled up with laughter for speech, so he let +him pass unscolded. Once safely inside, Mustapha shifted his wet and +dirty little burden on to its feet, whirled aside the drab skirt, and, +with trenchant slaps, administered a brief but effectual American +spanking. He then conducted Hassan to his veiled mother in her +retirement, and intimated his pleasure that he should be made to undergo +a further penance. + +It was this same naughty little Turk who woke up at the same time with +the pink flamingo. He heard music and shouts, and saw the same strange +glow toward the southward which had startled the bird from its rest. His +father and mother had joined the motley throng of foreign folk of all +nationalities, garbs, and shades of complexion,--Arabs, Javanese, +Alaskans, Eskimos, South Sea Islanders, Cossacks, American Indians, and +East Indians, Chinese, and Dahomyans,--who had flocked out of the +Plaisance to see the spectacle. No one was left behind but the sleeping +children, and here was Hassan, no longer asleep, but very wide awake +indeed. + +[Illustration: Down the esplanade sped the little figure.--PAGE 191.] + +No time did he lose in hesitation; he knew in a moment what he wanted to +do. His queer little clothes were close at hand,--the drab gown, still +mud-stained from his run, the yellow slippers, the small fez for his +head. Into them he skipped, and, stepping out of the door, he ran down +the Plaisance, keeping on the shaded side as far as might be, for fear +of being stopped. He need not have been afraid; there was no one to stop +him. The great Woman's Building came in sight, with the outlines of the +still larger Horticultural beyond. Down the esplanade sped the little +figure. The light grew more brilliant with every turn; more and more +people passed him, but all were pressing southward. And in a crowd like +this, nobody had time to notice the advent of such a very small Turk +among them. Hot and breathless after his long run, Hassan at last +emerged, as the pink flamingo had done, on the Court of Honor. + +Here his smallness proved an advantage to him, for he could crowd +himself into minute spaces in the living mass where a grown person could +not go, squeeze between people's legs, and wriggle and twist, all the +time pressing steadily forward, till at last he gained the parapet, and, +climbing up, seated himself comfortably on the top. Then his eyes and +mouth opened simultaneously into an "Ahi!" of wonder, for close before +him was one of the electrical fountains, shooting blue and crimson +fires, and a little beyond shone the pulsating radiance of the dazzling +forms grouped above the Discoverer, the rearing horses, the winged shape +in the bow of the boat. Never before had anything so wonderful been seen +by our little Turk. The great basin twinkled with reflected lights, like +a starry sky set upside down; overhead the statues glittered; a round +silver moon hung above, and broad rays, like her own beams intensified +and set into motion, wandered to and fro from the search-light opposite, +darting now on a splendid façade, now on a towering dome, again on a +bridge packed with people, whose expectant faces were all turned +skyward, and, finally, on a great pink bird which was wheeling and +turning in the water. + +There was a sudden small splash. + +"Oh, oh!" shrieked a child's voice, in tones of distress, "my dolly's +fallen in! Mamma, Mamma, that was my dolly that fell in. She'll be all +drowned! Oh, my dolly!" Then the voice changed to one of amazement and +joy: "Oh, Mamma, see that bird! He has got her!" + +Coco had spied the doll as it fell, and, true to his early training, +dived after it as a matter of course, and came up with the doll in his +bill. + +"Oh, you good birdie! you dear birdie!" cried the little one, stretching +her arms over the parapet. "Let me have Dolly again, please, dear +birdie!" + +Coco understood only Flamingo, and had no idea what the little girl was +saying; but as a nibble or two had showed that the doll was not edible, +he made no resistance when a gentleman reached over from the edge of a +gondola and took it from his beak. It was handed back to its little +owner amid a great clapping and laughing, and Coco was given an Albert +biscuit instead, which he liked much better, and speedily disposed of. +He knew that the applause was meant for him, and, puffed up with pride, +sailed vain-gloriously to and fro, waiting another chance to distinguish +himself. + +It came! There was another and much louder splash as a small red-capped +figure toppled over into the water. It was Hassan, who, leaning over to +watch the wonderful bird, had lost his balance. + +No one laughed this time, and there was a general cry of "Oh, it was a +child! A child has fallen in! Save him, some one!" People shouted for +"a boat;" men pulled off their coats, making ready for a plunge; women +began to cry; then, all at once, there was a general exclamation of +astonishment and admiration. + +"The bird has got him" cried a hundred voices. + +It was again Coco! To dive after Hassan, to seize the drab skirt in his +beak, and bring the child again to the surface of the water, was an easy +feat to him; but to the excited multitudes upon the banks it seemed +well-nigh a miracle. + +"Never saw such a thing in my life!" declared a man on the bridge. +"Don't tell me that bird hasn't an intellect. No, sir! There ain't a man +here could have done that better, nor so well as that there pelican. He +is smart enough to vote, he is!" + +"Too smart," remarked his next neighbor. "He'd never stick to the +regular ticket; he'd have a mind of his own. That ain't the sort we want +over here. We want voters that don't have independent ideas, but just do +as the boss tells 'em." + +"That's pretty true, I reckon," replied the first man. + +Meanwhile, Hassan was safe on shore. It had been for only one moment +that the flamingo had needed to support his burden; then it was lifted +from him by a man in a boat, who took time to tell him that he was a +"first-rate fellow, a famous fellow, and ought to have a medal from the +Humane Society." + +"He _shall_ have one!" declared an enthusiastic lady in the crowd. "I +will see to it myself." And the next morning she bought a souvenir +half-dollar, had "For a Brave Bird" engraved upon it, and a hole bored +in its rim, through which she ran a pink ribbon. This she carried over +to the Wooded Island, and, with the assistance of two Columbian guards, +captured Coco, and tied the ribbon firmly round his neck. He resisted +strenuously, and spent much time in trying to peck the decoration off; +but as time went on, and he became accustomed to it, and found that +wherever he went it made him conspicuous, and that the other birds +envied him the notice he attracted, he rather learned to like his +"medal;" and he wore it to the very end of the Columbian Exposition. + +Meanwhile, as Fate willed it, the dripping Hassan was handed ashore +precisely at that point of the esplanade where stood his father and +mother! They had not seen the accident, nor understood that it was a boy +who had fallen in and been rescued by a bird; so when a wet little +object was set to drip almost at their feet, and they recognized in it +their own offspring, whom they supposed to be safely asleep at home, it +will be easily imagined that their wrath and astonishment knew no +bounds. + +"Ahi! child of sin, contaminated by the unbeliever, is it indeed thou?" +cried the irate Mustapha. "What djinnee, what imp of Eblis hath brought +thee here?" + +"He hath been in the water, Allah preserve us!" cried the more +tender-hearted mother. "He might have been drowned." + +"In the water! Nay, then; wherefore is he not in bed where we left him? +We will see if this imp of evil be not taught to avoid the water in the +future. On my head be it if he is not, Inshallah!" + +So the weeping Hassan was led home by his family, his garments leaving a +trail of drip on the concrete all the way up the long distance; and in +the seclusion of the temporary harem he was caused to see the error of +his way. + +"Thou shalt be made to remember," declared his irate parent in the +pauses of discipline. "I will not have thee as the sons of these +infidels who despise correction, saying 'I will' and 'I will not,' and +are as a blemish and a darkening to the faces of their parents. The +Prophet rebuke me if I do! Inshallah!" + +But Coco, when the lights were put out and the great crowd streamed +away, leaving the Fair Grounds to silence and loneliness, and the +lagoons became again a soft land of shadows broken by reaches of +moonlight, sailed back to his perch among the sedges with a calm and +satisfied mind. He had a right to be pleased with himself. Had he not +saved two "people," one very small and hard, and the other very big and +soft? Nothing whispered of that dreadful half-dollar which was coming on +the morrow to vex his spirit. No one said to _him_ "Inshallah." He +tucked his head under his wing and went to sleep, a peaceful and +contented flamingo; and the moral is, "Be virtuous and you will be +happy." + + + + +TWO PAIRS OF EYES. + + +Did it ever occur to you what a difference there is in the way in which +people use their eyes? I do not mean that some people squint, and some +do not; that some have short sight, and some long sight. These are +accidental differences; and the people who cannot see far, sometimes see +more, and more truly, than do other people whose vision is as keen as +the eagle's. No, the difference between people's eyes lies in the power +and the habit of observation. + +Did you ever hear of the famous conjurer Robert Houdin, whose wonderful +tricks and feats of magic were the astonishment of Europe a few years +ago? He tells us, in his autobiography, that to see everything at a +glance, while seeming to see nothing, is the first requisite in the +education of a "magician," and that the faculty of noticing rapidly and +exactly can be trained like any other faculty. When he was fitting his +little son to follow the same profession, he used to take him past a +shop-window, at a quick walk, and then ask him how many objects in the +window he could remember and describe. At first, the child could only +recollect three or four; but gradually he rose to ten, twelve, twenty, +and, in the end, his eyes would note, and his memory retain, not less +than forty articles, all caught in the few seconds which it took to pass +the window at a rapid walk. + +It is so more or less with us all. Few things are more surprising than +the distinct picture which one mind will bring away from a place, and +the vague and blurred one which another mind will bring. Observation is +one of the valuable faculties, and the lack of it a fault which people +have to pay for, in various ways, all their lives. + +There were once two peasant boys in France, whose names were Jean and +Louis Cardilliac. They were cousins; their mothers were both widows, and +they lived close to each other in a little village, near a great forest. +They also looked much alike. Both had dark, closely shaven hair, olive +skins, and large, black eyes; but in spite of all their resemblances, +Jean was always spoken of as "lucky," and Louis as "unlucky," for +reasons which you will shortly see. + +If the two boys were out together, in the forest or the fields, they +walked along quite differently. Louis dawdled in a sort of loose-jointed +trot, with his eyes fixed on whatever happened to be in his hand,--a +sling, perhaps, or a stick, or one of those snappers with which birds +are scared away from fruit. If it were the stick, he cracked it as he +went, or he snapped the snapper, and he whistled, as he did so, in an +absent-minded way. Jean's black eyes, on the contrary, were always on +the alert, and making discoveries. While Louis stared and puckered his +lips up over the snapper or the sling, Jean would note, unconsciously +but truly, the form of the clouds, the look of the sky in the rainy +west, the wedge-shaped procession of the ducks through the air, and the +way in which they used their wings, the bird-calls in the hedge. He was +quick to mark a strange leaf, or an unaccustomed fungus by the path, or +any small article which had been dropped by the way. Once, he picked up +a five-franc piece; once, a silver pencil-case which belonged to the +_curé_, who was glad to get it again, and gave Jean ten sous by way of +reward. Louis would have liked ten sous very much, but somehow he never +found any pencil-cases; and it seemed hard and unjust when his mother +upbraided him for the fact, which, to his thinking, was rather his +misfortune than his fault. + +"How can I help it?" he asked. "The saints are kind to Jean, and they +are not kind to me,--_voilà tout_!" + +"The saints help those who help themselves," retorted his mother. "Thou +art a look-in-the-air. Jean keeps his eyes open, he has wit, and he +notices." + +But such reproaches did not help Louis, or teach him anything. Habit is +so strong. + +"There!" cried his mother one day, when he came in to supper. "Thy +cousin--thy lucky cousin--has again been lucky. He has found a +truffle-bed, and thy aunt has sold the truffles to the man from Paris +for a hundred francs. A hundred francs! It will be long before thy +stupid fingers can earn the half of that!" + +"Where did Jean find the bed?" asked Louis. + +"In the oak copse near the brook, where thou mightest have found them +as easily as he," retorted his mother. "He was walking along with +Daudot, the wood cutter's dog--whose mother was a truffle-hunter--and +Daudot began to point and scratch; and Jean suspected something, got a +spade, dug, and crack! a hundred francs! Ah, _his_ mother is to be +envied!" + +"The oak copse! Near the brook!" exclaimed Louis, too much excited to +note the reproach which concluded the sentence. "Why, I was there but +the other day with Daudot, and I remember now, he scratched and whined a +great deal, and tore at the ground. I didn't think anything about it at +the time." + +"Oh, thou little imbecile--thou stupid!" cried his mother, angrily. +"There were the truffles, and the first chance was for thee. Didn't +think anything about it! Thou never dost think, thou never wilt. Out of +my sight, and do not let me see thee again till bedtime." + +Supperless and disconsolate poor Louis slunk away. He called Daudot, and +went to the oak copse, resolved that if he saw any sign of excitement on +the part of the dog, to fetch a spade and instantly begin to dig. But +Daudot trotted along quietly, as if there were not a truffle left in +France, and the walk was fruitless. + +"If I had only," became a favorite sentence with Louis, as time went on. +"If I had only noticed this." "If I had only stopped then." But such +phrases are apt to come into the mind after something has been missed by +not noticing or not stopping, so they do little good to anybody. + +Did it ever occur to you that what people call "lucky chances," though +they seem to come suddenly, are in reality prepared for by a long +unconscious process of making ready on the part of those who profit by +them? Such a chance came at last to both Jean and Louis,--to Louis no +less than to Jean; but one was prepared for it, and the other was not. + +Professor Sylvestre, a famous naturalist from Toulouse, came to the +forest village where the two boys lived, one summer. He wanted a boy to +guide him about the country, carry his plant-cases and herbals, and help +in his search after rare flowers and birds, and he asked Madame Collot, +the landlady of the inn, to recommend one. She named Jean and Louis; +they were both good boys, she said. + +So the professor sent for them to come and talk with him. + +"Do you know the forest well, and the paths?" he asked. + +Yes, both of them knew the forest very well. + +"Are there any woodpeckers of such and such a species?" he asked next. +"Have you the large lunar moth here? Can you tell me where to look for +_Campanila rhomboidalis_?" and he rapidly described the variety. + +Louis shook his head. He knew nothing of any of these things. But Jean +at once waked up with interest. He knew a great deal about +woodpeckers,--not in a scientific way, but with the knowledge of one who +has watched and studied bird habits. He had quite a collection of lunar +and other moths of his own, and though he did not recognize the rare +_Campanila_ by its botanical title, he did as soon as the professor +described the peculiarities of the leaf and blossom. So M. Sylvestre +engaged him to be his guide so long as he stayed in the region, and +agreed to pay him ten francs a week. And Mother Cardilliac wrung her +hands, and exclaimed more piteously than ever over her boy's "ill luck" +and his cousin's superior good fortune. + +One can never tell how a "chance" may develop. Professor Sylvestre was +well off, and kind of heart. He had no children of his own, and he was +devoted, above all other things, to the interest of science. He saw the +making of a first-rate naturalist in Jean Cardilliac, with his quick +eyes, his close observation, his real interest in finding out and making +sure. He grew to an interest in and liking for the boy, which ripened, +as the time drew near for him to return to his university, into an offer +to take Jean with him, and provide for his education, on the condition +that Jean, in return, should render him a certain amount of assistance +during his out-of-school hours. It was, in effect, a kind of adoption, +which might lead to almost anything; and Jean's mother was justified in +declaring, as she did, that his fortune was made. + +"And for thee, thou canst stay at home, and dig potatoes for the rest of +thy sorry life," lamented the mother of Louis. "Well, let people say +what they will, this is an unjust world; and, what is worse, the saints +look on, and do nothing to prevent it. Heaven forgive me if it is +blasphemous to speak so, but I cannot help it!" + +But it was neither "luck" nor "injustice." It was merely the difference +between "eyes and no eyes,"--a difference which will always exist and +always tell. + + + + +THE PONY THAT KEPT THE STORE. + + +It was a shabby old store, built where two cross-roads and a lane met at +the foot of a low hill, and left between them a small triangular space +fringed with grass. On the hill stood a summer hotel, full of boarders +from the neighboring city; for the place was cool and airy, and a wide +expanse of sea and rocky islands, edged with beaches and wooded points, +stretched away from the hill's foot. + +In years gone by, the shabby old store had driven quite a flourishing +trade during the months of the year when the hotel was open. The +boarders went there for their ink and tacks; their sewing-silk and +shoe-buttons; for the orange marmalade and potted ham which they +carried on picnics; for the liquid blacking, which saved the boot-boy at +the hotel so much labor; the letter-paper, on which they wrote to their +friends what a good time they were having; and all the thousand and one +things of which people who have little to do with their time and money +fancy themselves in want. But a year before the time at which the events +I am about to relate took place, the owner of the store built himself a +new and better one at a place a mile further on, where there was a still +larger hotel and a group of cottages, and removed thither with his +belongings. The old building had stood empty for some months, and at +last was hired for a queer use,--namely, to serve as stable for a very +small Shetland pony, not much larger than a calf, or an extra large +Newfoundland dog. + +"Cloud" was the pony's name. He belonged to Ned Cabot, who was nine +years old, and was not only his pony, but his intimate friend as well. +Ned loved him only the better for a terrible accident which had befallen +Cloud a few months before. + +The Cabots, who had been living on Lake Superior for a while, came back +to the East with all their goods and chattels, and among the rest, their +horses. It had been a question as to how little Cloud should travel; and +at last a box was built which could be set in a freight-car, and in +which, it was hoped, he would make the journey in safety. But accidents +sometimes happen even when the utmost care is taken, and, sad to relate, +Cloud arrived in Boston with his tiny foreleg broken. + +Horses' legs are hard to mend, you know; and generally when one breaks, +it is thought the easiest and cheapest way out of the trouble to shoot +the poor animal at once, and buy another to take his place. But the bare +mention of such a thing threw Ned into such paroxysms of grief, and he +sobbed so dreadfully, that all his family made haste to assure him that +under no circumstances should Cloud be shot. Instead, he was sent to a +hospital,--not the Massachusetts General, I think, but something almost +as superior in its line, where animals are treated, and there the +surgeons slung him up, and put his leg into plaster, exactly as if he +had been a human being. Had he been a large, heavy horse, I suppose they +could hardly have done this; but being a little light pony, it was +possible. And the result was that the poor fellow got well, and was not +lamed in the least, which made his little master very happy. He loved +Cloud all the more for this great escape, and Cloud fully returned Ned's +affection. He was a rather over-indulged and overfed pony; but with Ned, +he was always a pattern of gentleness and propriety. Ned could lie flat +on his back and read story books by the hour without the least fear that +Cloud would jump or shy or shake him off. Far from it! Cloud would +graze quietly up and down, taking pains not to disturb the reading, only +turning his head now and then to see if Ned was comfortable, and when he +found him so, giving a little satisfied whinny, which seemed to say, +"Here we are, and what a time we are having!" Surely, no pony could be +expected to do better than that. + +So now little Cloud, with his foreleg quite mended and as strong as +ever, was the sole occupant of the roomy old country store. A little +stall had been partitioned off for him in a corner where there was a +window, out of which he could see the buckboards and cut-unders drive +by, and the daisies and long grass on the opposite slope blowing in the +fresh sea wind. Horses have curiosity, and like to look out of the +window and watch what is going on as well as people do. + +There were things inside the store that were worth looking at as well as +things outside. When Mr. Harrison, the storekeeper, moved away, he +carried off most of his belongings, but a few articles he left behind, I +suppose because he did not consider them worth taking away. There were +two blue painted counters and some rough hanging shelves, a set of rusty +old scales and weights, a row of glass jars with a little dab of +something at the bottom of each,--rice, brown sugar, cream-of-tartar, +cracker crumbs, and fragments of ginger-snaps. There was also a bottle +half full of fermented olives, a paper parcel of musty corn flour, and, +greatest of all, a big triangle of cheese, blue with mould, in a round +red wooden box with wire sides, like an enormous mouse-trap. It was +quite a stock-in-trade for a pony, and Cloud had so much the air of +being in possession, that the smallest of the children at the hotel +always spoke of the place as his store. "I want to go down to Cloud's +store," they would say to their nurses. + +Ned and his sister Constance took a great deal of the care of the pony +on themselves. A freckled little country lad named Dick had been engaged +to feed and clean him; but he so often ran away from his work that the +children were never easy in their minds for fear lest Cloud had been +forgotten and was left supperless or with no bed to lie upon. Almost +always, and especially on Sunday nights, when he of the freckles was +most apt to absent himself, they would coax their mother to let them run +down the last thing and make sure that all was right. If it were not, +Ned would turn to, and Constance also, to feed and bed the pony; they +were both strong and sturdy, and could do the work very well, only +Constance always wanted to braid his mane to make it kink, and Ned would +never let her; so they sometimes ended with quarrelling. + +One day in August it happened that Ned's father and mother, his big +brother, his two sisters, and, in fact, most of the grown people in the +hotel, went off on a picnic to White Gull Island, which was about seven +miles out to sea. They started at ten in the morning, with a good +breeze, and a load of very attractive-looking lunch-baskets; but at noon +the wind died down, and did not spring up again, and when Ned's bedtime +came, they had still not returned. Their big sail could be seen far out +beyond the islands. They were rowing the boat, Mr. Gale, the +hotel-keeper, said; but unless the wind came up, he did not think they +would be in much before midnight. + +Ned had not gone with the others. He had hurt his foot a day or two +before, and his mother thought climbing rocks would be bad for it. He +had cried a little when Constance and the rest sailed away, but had soon +been consoled. Mrs. Cabot had arranged a series of treats for him, a row +with Nurse, a sea-bath, a new story-book, and had asked a little boy he +liked to come over from the other hotel and spend the afternoon on the +beach. There had been the surprise of a box of candy and two big +peaches. Altogether, the day had gone happily, and it was not till Nurse +had put Ned to bed and gone off to a "praise meeting" in the Methodist +chapel, that it occurred to him to feel lonely. + +He lay looking out at sea, which was lit by the biggest and whitest moon +ever seen. Far away he could catch the shimmer of the idle sail, which +seemed scarcely nearer than it had done at supper-time. + +"I wish Mamma were here to kiss me for good-night," reflected Ned, +rather dismally. "I don't feel sleepy a bit, and it isn't nice to have +them all gone." + +From the foot of the hill came a sound of small hoofs stamping +impatiently. Then a complaining whinny was heard. Ned sat up in bed. +Something was wrong with Cloud, he was sure. + +"It's that bad Dick. He's gone off and forgotten to give Cloud any +supper," thought Ned. Then he called "Mary! Ma-ry!" several times, +before he remembered that Mary was gone to the praise meeting. + +"I don't care!" he said aloud. "I'm not going to let my Cloudy starve +for anybody." + +So he scrambled out of bed, found his shoes, and hastily put on some of +the clothes which Mary had just taken off and folded up. There was no +one on the piazza to note the little figure as it sped down the slope. +Everybody was off enjoying the moonlight in some way or other. + +It was, indeed, as Ned had suspected. Dick of the freckles had gone +fishing and forgotten Cloud altogether. The moon shone full through the +eastern windows of the store, making it almost as light as day, and Ned +had no trouble in finding the hay and the water-pail. He watched the +pony as he hungrily champed and chewed the sweet-smelling heap and +sucked up the water, then he brushed out his stall, and scattered +straw, and then sat down "for a minute," as he told himself, to rest and +watch Cloud go to sleep. It was very pleasant in the old store, he +thought. + +Presently Cloud lay down on the straw too, and cuddled close up to Ned, +who patted and stroked him. Ned thought he was asleep, he lay so still. +But after a little while Cloud stirred and got up, first on his forelegs +and then altogether. He stood a moment watching Ned, who pretended to be +sleeping, then he opened the slatted door of his stall, moved gently +across the floor and went in behind the old blue counter. + +"What _is_ he going to do?" thought Ned. "I never saw anything so funny. +Constance will never believe when I tell her about it." + +What Cloud did was to take one of the glass jars from the shelf in his +teeth, and set it on the counter. It was the one which held the +gingersnap crumbs. Cloud lifted off the lid. Just then a clatter of +hoofs was heard outside, and another horse came in. Ned knew the horse +in a minute. It was the yellow one which Mr. Gale drove in his +buckboard. + +The yellow horse trotted up to the counter, and he and Cloud talked +together for a few minutes. It was in pony language, and Ned could not +understand what they said; but it had to do with the gingersnaps, +apparently, for Cloud poured part of them out on the counter, and the +buckboard horse greedily licked them up. Then he gave Cloud something by +way of payment. Ned could not see what, but it seemed to be a nail out +of his hind shoe, and then tiptoed out of the store and across the road +to the field where the horses grazed, while Cloud opened a drawer at the +back of the counter and threw in the nail, if it was one. It _sounded_ +like a nail. + +He had scarcely done so when more hoofs sounded, and two other horses +came in. Horse one was the bay which went with the yellow in the +buckboard, the other Mr. Gale's sorrel colt, which he allowed no one to +drive except himself. Cloud seemed very glad to see them. And such a +lively chorus went on across the counter of whinnies and snorts and +splutters, accompanied with such emphatic stamps, that Ned shrank into a +dark corner, and did not dare to laugh aloud, though he longed to as he +peeped between the bars. + +The sorrel colt seemed to want a great many things. He evidently had the +shopping instinct. Cloud lifted down all the jars, one by one, and the +colt sampled their contents. The cream-of-tartar he did not like at all; +but he ate all the brown sugar and the cracker crumbs, tasted an olive +and let it drop with a disgusted neigh, and lastly took a bite of the +mouldy cheese in the red trap, and expressed his opinion of it by what +seemed to be a "swear-word." Then he and the bay-horse and Cloud went +to the end of the store where a rusty old stove without any pipe stood, +sat down on their haunches before it, put their forelegs on its top, and +began, as it seemed, to discuss politics; at least, it sounded +wonderfully like the conversation that had gone on in that very corner +in Mr. Harrison's day, when the farmers collected to predict the defeat +of the candidate on the other side, whoever he might be. + +They talked so long that Ned grew very sleepy, and lay down again on the +straw. He felt that he ought to go home and to bed, but he did not quite +dare. The strange horses might take offence at his being there, he +thought; still, he had a comfortable feeling that as Cloud's friend they +would not do him any real harm. Even when, as it seemed, one of them +came into the stall, took hold of his shoulder, and began to shake him +violently, he was not really frightened. + +"Don't!" he said sleepily. "I won't tell anybody. Cloud knows me. I'm a +friend of his." + +"Ned! wake up! Ned! wake up!" said some one. Was it the red horse? + +No, it was his father. And there was Mamma on the other side of him. And +there was Cloud lying on the straw close by, pretending to be asleep, +but with one eye half open! + +"Wake up!" said Papa; "here it is, after eleven o'clock, and Mamma half +frightened to death at getting home and not finding you in your bed. How +did you come down here, sir?" + +"Cloud was crying for his supper, and I came down to feed him," +explained Ned. "And then I stayed to watch him keep store. Oh, it was so +funny, Mamma! The other horses came and bought things, and Cloud was +just like a real storekeeper, and sold crackers to them, and sugar, and +took the money--no, it was nails, I think." + +"My dear, you have been dreaming," said Mrs. Cabot. "Don't let him talk +any more, John. He is all excited now, and won't sleep if you do." + +So, though Ned loudly protested that he had not been asleep at all, and +so could not have dreamed, he was put to bed at once, and no one would +listen to him. And next day it was just as bad, for all of them, +Constance as well as the rest, insisted that Ned had fallen asleep in +the pony's stall and dreamed the whole thing. Even when he opened the +drawer at the back of the counter and showed them the shoe-nail that +Cloud had dropped in, they would not believe. There was nothing +remarkable in there being a nail there, they said; all sorts of things +were put in the drawers of country stores. + +But Ned and Cloud knew very well that it was not a dream. + + + + +PINK AND SCARLET. + + +"It's the most perfect beauty that ever was!" + +"Pshaw! you always say that. It's not a bit prettier than Mary's." + +"Yes, it is." + +"No, indeed, it isn't." + +The subject of dispute was a parasol,--a dark blue one, trimmed with +fringe, and with an ivory handle. The two little girls who were +discussing it were Alice Hoare and her sister Madge. It was Madge's +birthday, and the parasol was one of her presents. + +The dispute continued. + +"I wish you wouldn't always say that your things are better than any one +else's," said Alice. "It's ex-exaspering to talk like that, and Mamma +said when we exasperated it was almost as bad as telling lies." + +"She didn't say "exasperate." That wasn't the word at all; and this is +the sweetest, dearest, most perfectly beautiful parasol in the world, a +great deal prettier than your green one." + +"Yes, so it is," confessed candid Alice. "Mine is quite old now. This is +younger, and, besides, the top of mine is broken off. But yours isn't +really any prettier than Mary's." + +"It is too! It's a great deal more beautiful and a great deal more +fascinating." + +"What is that which is so fascinating?" asked their sister Mary, coming +into the room. "The new parasol? My! that is strong language to use +about a parasol. It should at least be an umbrella, I think. See, Madge, +here is another birthday gift." + +It was a gilt cage, with a pair of Java sparrows. "Oh, lovely! +delicious!" cried Madge, jumping up and down. "I think this is the best +birthday that ever was! Are they from you, Mary, darling? Thank you ever +so much! They are the most perfectly beautiful things I ever saw." + +"The parasol was the most beautiful just now," observed Alice. + +"Oh, these are much beautifuller than that, because they are alive," +replied Madge, giving her oldest sister a rapturous squeeze. + +"I wish you'd make me a birthday present in return," said Mary. "I wish +you'd drop that bad habit of exaggerating everything you like, and +everything you don't like. All your 'bads' are 'dreadfuls,'--all your +pinks are scarlets." + +"I don't know what you mean," said Madge, puzzled and offended. + +"It's only what Mamma has often spoken to you about, dear Madgie. It is +saying more than is quite true, and more than you quite feel. I am sure +you don't mean to be false, but people who are not used to you might +think you so." + +"It's because I like things so much." + +"No, for when you don't like them, it's just as bad. I have heard you +say fifty times, at least, 'It is the horridest thing I ever saw,' and +you know there couldn't be fifty 'horridest' things." + +"But you all know what I mean." + +"Well, we can guess, but you ought to be more exact. And, besides, Papa +says if we use up all our strong words about little every-day things, we +sha'n't have any to use when we are talking about really great things. +If you call a heavy muffin 'awful,' what are you going to say about an +earthquake or tornado?" + +"We don't have any earthquakes in Groton, and I don't ever mean to go to +places where they do," retorted Madge, triumphantly. + +"Madge, how bad you are!" cried little Alice. "You ought to promise +Mary right away, because it's your birthday." + +"Well, I'll try," said Madge. But she did not make the promise with much +heart, and she soon forgot all about it. It seemed to her that Mary was +making a great fuss about a small thing. + +Are there any small things? Sometimes I am inclined to doubt it. A +fever-germ can only be seen under the microscope, but think what a +terrible work it can do. The avalanche, in its beginning, is only a few +moving particles of snow; the tiny spring feeds the brook, which in turn +feeds the river; the little evil, unchecked, grows into the habit which +masters the strongest man. All great things begin in small things; and +these small things which are to become we know not what, should be +important in our eyes. + +Madge Hoare meant to be a truthful child; but little by little, and day +by day, her perception of what truth really is, was being worn away by +the habit of exaggeration. + +"Perfectly beautiful," "perfectly horrible," "perfectly dreadful," +"perfectly fascinating," such were the mild terms which she daily used +to describe the most ordinary things,--apples, rice puddings, arithmetic +lessons, gingham dresses, and, as we have seen, blue parasols! And the +habit grew upon her, as habits will. When she needed stronger language +than usual, things had to be "horrider" than horrid, and "beautifuller" +than beautiful. And the worst of it was, that she was all the time half +conscious of her own insincerity, and that, to use Mary's favorite +figure, she _meant_ pink, but she _said_ scarlet. + +The family fell so into the habit of making mental allowances and +deductions for all Madge's statements that sometimes they fell into the +habit of not believing enough. "It is only Madge!" they would say, and +so dismiss the subject from their minds. This careless disbelief vexed +and hurt Madge very often, but it did not hurt enough to cure her. One +day, however, it did lead to something which she could not help +remembering. + +It was warm weather still, although September, and Ernest, the little +baby brother, whom Madge loved best of all the children, was playing one +morning in the yard by himself. Madge was studying an "awful" arithmetic +lesson upstairs at the window. She could not see Ernest, who was making +a sand-pie directly beneath her; but she did see an old woman peer over +the fence, open the gate, and steal into the yard. + +"What a horrid-looking old woman!" thought Madge. "The multiple of +sixteen added to--Oh, bother! what an awful sum this is!" She forgot the +old woman for a few moments, then she again saw her going out of the +yard, and carrying under her cloak what seemed to be a large bundle. The +odd thing was, that the bundle seemed to have legs, and to kick; or was +it the wind blowing the old woman's cloak about? + +Madge watched the old woman out of sight with a puzzled and +half-frightened feeling. "Could she have stolen anything?" she asked +herself; and at last she ran downstairs to see. Nothing seemed missing +from the hall, only Ernie's straw hat lay in the middle of the gravel +walk. + +"Mamma!" cried Madge, bursting into the library where her mother was +talking to a visitor. "There has been the most perfectly horrible old +woman in our yard that I ever saw. She was so awful-looking that I was +afraid she had been stealing something. Did you see her, Mamma?" + +"My dear, all old women are awful in your eyes," said Mrs. Hoare, +calmly. "This was old Mrs. Shephard, I presume. I told her to come for a +bundle of washing. Run away now, Madge, I am busy." + +Madge went, but she still did not feel satisfied. The more she thought +about the old woman, the more she was sure that it was not old Mrs. +Shephard. She went with her fears to Mary. + +"She was just like a gypsy," she explained, "or a horrible old witch. +Her hair stuck out so, and she had the awfullest face! I am almost sure +she stole something, and carried it away under her shawl, sister." + +"Nonsense!" said Mary, who was drawing, and not inclined to disturb +herself for one of Madge's "cock-and-bull" stories. "It was only one of +Mamma's old goodies, you may be sure. Don't you recollect what a fright +you gave us about the robber, who turned out to be a man selling apples; +and that other time, when you were certain there was a bear in the +garden, and it was nothing but Mr. Price's big Newfoundland?" + +"But this was quite different; it really was. This old woman was really +awful." + +"Your old women always are," replied Mary, unconcernedly, going on with +her sketch. + +No one would attend to Madge's story, no one sympathized with her alarm. +She was like the boy who cried "Wolf!" so often that, when the real wolf +came, no one heeded his cries. But the family roused from their +indifference, when, an hour later, Nurse came to ask where Master Ernie +could be, and search revealed the fact that he was nowhere about the +premises. Madge and her old woman were treated with greater respect +then. Papa set off for the constable, and Jim drove rapidly in the +direction which the old woman was taking when last seen. Poor Mrs. Hoare +was terribly anxious and distressed. + +"I blame myself for not attending at once to what Madge said," she told +Mary. "But the fact is that she exaggerates so constantly that I have +fallen into the habit of only half listening to her. If it had been +Alice, it would have been quite different." + +Madge overheard Mamma say this, and she crept away to her own room, and +cried as if her heart would break. + +"If Ernie is never found, it will all be my fault," she thought. "Nobody +believes a word that I say. But they would have believed if Alice had +said it, and Mary would have run after that wicked old woman, and got +dear baby away from her. Oh dear, how miserable I am!" + +Madge never forgot that long afternoon and that wretched night. Mamma +did not go to bed at all, and none of them slept much. It was not till +ten o'clock the next morning that Papa and Jim came back, bringing--oh, +joy!--little Ernie with them, his pretty hair all tangled and his rosy +cheeks glazed with crying, but otherwise unhurt. He had been found +nearly ten miles away, locked in a miserable cottage by the old woman, +who had taken off his nice clothes and dressed him in a ragged frock. +She had left him there while she went out to beg, or perhaps to make +arrangements for carrying him farther out of reach; but she had given +him some bread and milk for supper and breakfast, and the little fellow +was not much the worse for his adventure; and after a bath and a +re-dressing, and after being nearly kissed to death by the whole family, +he went to sleep in his own crib very comfortably. + +"Papa," said Madge that night, "I never mean to exaggerate any more as +long as I live. I mean to say exactly what I think, only not so much, so +that you shall all have confidence in me. And then, next time baby is +stolen, you will all believe what I say." + +"I hope there will never be any 'next time,'" observed her mother; "but +I shall have to be glad of what happened this time, if it really cures +you of such a bad habit, my little Madge." + + + + +DOLLY'S LESSON. + + +"What is presence of mind, any way?" demanded little Dolly Ware, as she +sat, surrounded by her family, watching the sunset. + +The sunset hour is best of all the twenty-four in Nantucket. At no other +time is the sea so blue and silvery, or the streaks of purple and pale +green which mark the place of the sand-spits and shallows that underlie +the island waters so defined, or of such charming colors. The wind blows +across softly from the south shore, and brings with it scents of heath +and thyme, caught from the high upland moors above the town. The sun +dips down, and sends a flash of glory to the zenith; and small pink +clouds curl up about the rising moon, fondle her, as it were, and seem +to love her. It is a delightful moment, and all Nantucket dwellers learn +to watch for it. + +It was the custom of the Ware family, as soon as they had despatched +their supper,--a very hearty supper, suited to young appetites sharpened +by sea air;--of chowder, or hot lobster, or a newly caught blue-fish, +with piles of brown bread and butter, and unlimited milk,--to rush out +_en masse_ to the piazza of their little cottage, and "attend to the +sunset," as though it were a family affair. It was the hour when jokes +were cracked and questions asked, and when Mamma, who was apt to be +pretty busy during the daytime, had leisure to answer them. + +Dolly was youngest of the family,--a thin, wiry child, tall for her +years, with a brown bang lying like a thatch over a pair of bright +inquisitive eyes, and a thick pig-tail braided down her back. Phyllis, +the next in age, was short and fat; then came Harry, then Erma, just +sixteen (named after a German great-grandmother), and, last of all, +Jack, tallest and jolliest of the group, who had just "passed his +preliminaries," and would enter college next year. Mrs. Ware might be +excused for the little air of motherly pride with which she gazed at her +five. They were fine children, all of them,--frank, affectionate, +generous, with bright minds and healthy bodies. + +"Presence of mind sometimes means absence of body," remarked Jack, in +answer to Dolly's question. + +"I was speaking to Mamma," said Dolly, with dignity. "I wasn't asking +you." + +"I am aware of the fact, but I overlooked the formality, for once. What +makes you want to know, midget?" + +"There was a story in the paper about a girl who hid the kerosene can +when the new cook came, and it said she showed true presence of mind," +replied Dolly. + +"Oh, that was only fun! It didn't mean anything." + +"Isn't there any such thing, then?" + +"Why, of course there is. Picking up a shell just before it bursts in a +hospital tent, and throwing it out of the door, is presence of mind." + +"Yes, and tying a string round the right place on your leg when you've +cut an artery," added Harry, eagerly. + +"Swallowing a quart of whiskey when a rattlesnake bites you," suggested +Jack. + +"Saving the silver, instead of the waste-paper basket, when the house is +on fire," put in Erma. + +Dolly looked from one to the other. + +"What funny things!" she cried. "I don't believe you know anything about +it. Mamma, tell me what it really means." + +"I think," said Mrs. Ware, in those gentle tones to which her children +always listened, "that presence of mind means keeping cool, and having +your wits about you, at critical moments. Our minds--our reasoning +faculties, that is--are apt to be stunned or shocked when we are +suddenly frightened or excited; they leave us, and go away, as it were, +and it is only afterward that we pick ourselves up, and realize what we +ought to have done. To act coolly and sensibly in the face of danger is +a fine thing, and one to be proud of." + +"Should you be proud of me if I showed presence of mind?" asked Dolly, +leaning her arms on her mother's lap. + +"Very proud," replied Mrs. Ware, smiling as she stroked the brown +head,--"very proud, indeed." + +"I mean to do it," said Dolly, in a firm tone. + +There was a general laugh. + +"How will you go to work?" asked Jack. "Shall I step down to Hussey's, +and get a shell for you to practise on?" + +"She'll be setting the house on fire some night, to show what she can +do," added Harry, teasingly. + +"I shall do no such thing," protested Dolly, indignantly. "How foolish +you are! You don't understand a bit! I don't want to make things happen; +but, if they do happen, I shall try to keep cool and have my wits about +me, and perhaps I shall." + +"It would be lovely to be brave and do heroic things," remarked Phyllis. + +"You could at least be brave enough to use your common sense," said her +mother. "Yours is a very good resolution, Dolly dear, and I hope you'll +keep to it." + +"I will," said Dolly, and marched undauntedly off to bed. Later, she +found herself repeating, as if it were a lesson to be learned, "Presence +of mind means keeping cool, and having your wits about you;" and she +said it over and over every morning and evening after that, as she +braided her hair. Phyllis overheard, and laughed at her a little; but +Dolly didn't mind being laughed at, and kept on rehearsing her sentence +all the same. + +It is not given to all of us to test ourselves, and discover by actual +experiment just how much a mental resolution has done for us. Dolly, +however, was to have the chance. The bathing-beach at Nantucket is a +particularly safe one, and the water through the summer months most warm +and delicious. All the children who lived on the sandy bluff known as +"The Cliff" were in the habit of bathing; and the daily dip taken in +company was the chief event of the day, in their opinion. The little +Wares all swam like ducks; and no one thought of being nervous or +apprehensive if Harry struck out boldly for the jetty, or if Erma and +Phyllis were seen side by side at a point far beyond the depth of either +of them, or little Dolly took a "header" into deep water off an old +boat. + +It happened, about two months after the talk on the piazza, that Dolly +was bathing with Kitty Allen, a small neighbor of her own age. Kitty had +just been learning to swim, and was very proud of her new accomplishment; +but she was by no means so sure of herself or so much at home in the +water as Dolly, who had learned three years before, and practised +continually. + +The two children had swam out for quite a distance; then, as they turned +to go back, Kitty suddenly realized her distance from the shore, and was +seized with immediate and paralyzing terror. + +"Oh, oh!" she gasped. "How far out we are! We shall never get back in +the world! We shall be drowned! Dolly Ware, we shall certainly be +drowned!" + +She made a vain clutch at Dolly, and, with a wild scream, went down, and +disappeared. + +Dolly dived after her, only to be met by Kitty coming up to the surface +again, and frantically reaching out, as drowning persons do, for +something to hold by. The first thing she touched was Dolly's large +pig-tail, and, grasping that tight, she sank again, dragging Dolly down +with her, backward. + +It was really a hazardous moment. Many a good swimmer has lost his life +under similar circumstances. Nothing is more dangerous than to be caught +and held by a person who cannot swim, or who is too much disabled by +fear to use his powers. + +And now it was that Dolly's carefully conned lesson about presence of +mind came to her aid. "Keep cool; have your wits about you," rang +through her ears, as, held in Kitty's desperate grasp, she was dragged +down, down into the sea. A clear sense of what she ought to do flashed +across her mind. She must escape from Kitty and hold her up, but not +give Kitty any chance to drag her down again. As they rose, she pulled +her hair away with a sudden motion, and seized Kitty by the collar of +her bathing-dress, behind. + +"Float, and I'll hold you up," she gasped. "If you try to catch hold of +me again, I'll just swim off, and leave you, and then you _will_ be +drowned, Kitty Allen." + +Kitty was too far gone to make any very serious struggle. Then Dolly, +striking out strongly, and pushing Kitty before her, sent one wild cry +for help toward the beach. + +The cry was heard. It seemed to Dolly a terribly long time before any +answer came, but it was in reality less than five minutes before a boat +was pushed into the water. Dolly saw it rowing toward her, and held on +bravely. "Be cool; have your wits about you," she said to herself. And +she kept firm grasp of her mind, and would not let the fright, of whose +existence she was conscious, get possession of her. + +Oh, how welcome was the dash of the oars close at hand, how gladly she +relinquished Kitty to the strong arms that lifted her into the boat! +But when the men would have helped her in too, she refused. + +"No, thank you; I'll swim!" she said. It seemed nothing to get herself +to shore, now that the responsibility of Kitty and Kitty's weight were +taken from her. She swam pluckily along, the boat keeping near, lest her +strength should give out, and reached the beach just as Jack, that +moment aware of the situation, was dashing into the water after her. She +was very pale, but declared herself not tired at all, and she dressed +and marched sturdily up the cliff, refusing all assistance. + +There was quite a little stir among the summer colony over the +adventure, and Mrs. Ware had many compliments paid her for her child's +behavior. Mr. Allen came over, and had much to say about the +extraordinary presence of mind which Dolly had shown. + +"It was really remarkable," he said. "If she had fought with Kitty, or +if she had tried to swim ashore and had not called for assistance, they +might easily have both been drowned. It is extraordinary that a child of +that age should keep her head, and show such coolness and decision." + +"It wasn't remarkable at all," Dolly declared, as soon as he was gone. +"It was just because you said that on the piazza that night." + +"Said what?" + +"Why, Mamma, surely you haven't forgotten. It was that about presence of +mind, you know. I taught it to myself, and have said it over and over +ever since,--'Keep cool; have your wits about you.' I said it in the +water when Kitty was pulling me under." + +"Did you, really?" + +"Indeed, I did. And then I seemed to know what to do." + +"Well, it was a good lesson," said Mrs. Ware, with glistening eyes. "I +am glad and thankful that you learned it when you did, Dolly." + +"Are you proud of me?" demanded Dolly. + +"Yes, I am proud of you." + +This capped the climax of Dolly's contentment. Mamma was proud of her; +she was quite satisfied. + + + + +A BLESSING IN DISGUISE. + + +It was a dark day for Patty Flint when her father, with that curt +severity of manner which men are apt to assume to mask an inward +awkwardness, announced to her his intention of marrying for the second +time. + +"Tell the others after I am gone out," he concluded. + +"But, Papa, do explain a little more to me before you go," protested +Patty. "Who is this Miss Maskelyne? What kind of a person is she? Must +we call her mother?" + +"Well--we'll leave that to be settled later on. Miss Maskelyne is +a--a--well, a very nice person indeed, Patty. She'll make us all very +comfortable." + +"We always have been comfortable, I'm sure," said Patty, in an injured +tone. + +Dr. Flint instinctively cast a look around the room. It _was_ +comfortable, certainly, so far as neatness and sufficient furniture and +a hot fire in an air-tight stove can make a room comfortable. There was +a distinct lack of anything to complain of, yet something seemed to him +lacking. What was it? His thoughts involuntarily flew to a room which he +had quitted only the day before, no larger, no sunnier, not so well +furnished, and which yet, to his mind, seemed full of a refinement and +homelikeness which he missed in his own, though, man-like, he could have +in no wise explained what went to produce it. + +His rather stern face relaxed with a half-smile; his eyes seemed to seek +out a picture far away. But Patty was watching him,--an observant, +decidedly aggrieved Patty, who had done her best for him since her +mother died, and a good best too, her age considered, and who was not +inexcusable in disliking to be supplanted by a stranger. Poor Patty! But +even for Patty's sake it was better so, the father reflected, looking at +the prim, opinionated little figure before him, and noting how all the +childishness and girlishness seemed to have faded out of it during three +years of responsibility. She certainly had managed wonderfully for a +child of fifteen, and his voice was very kind as he said, "Yes, my dear, +so we have. You've been a good girl, Patty, and done your best for us +all; but you're young to have so much care, and when the new mother +comes, she will relieve you of it, and leave you free to occupy and +amuse yourself as other girls of your age do." + +He kissed Patty as he finished speaking. Kisses were not such every-day +matters in the Flint family as to be unimportant, and Patty, with all +her vexation, could not but be gratified. Then he hurried away, and, +after watching till his gig turned the corner, she went slowly upstairs +to the room where the children were learning their Sunday-school +lessons. + +There were three besides herself,--Susy and Agnes, aged respectively +twelve and ten; and Hal, the only boy, who was not quite seven. This +hour of study in the middle of Saturday morning was deeply resented by +them all; but Patty's rules were like the laws of the Medes and +Persians, which alter not, and they dared not resist. They had solaced +the tedium of the occasion by a contraband game of checkers during her +absence, but had pushed the board under the flounce of the sofa when +they heard her steps, and flown back to their tasks. Over-discipline +often leads to little shuffles and deceptions like this, and Patty, who +loved authority for authority's sake, was not always wise in enforcing +it. + +"When you have got through with your lessons, I have something to tell +you," was her beginning. + +It was an indiscreet one; for of course the children at once protested +that they were through! How could they be expected to interest +themselves in the "whole duty of man," with a secret obviously in the +air. + +"Very well, then," said Patty, indulgently,--for she was dying to tell +her news,--"Papa has just asked me to say to you that he is--is--going +to be married to a lady in New Bedford." + +"Married!" cried Agnes, with wide-open eyes. "How funny! I thought only +people who are young got married. Can we go to the wedding, do you +suppose, Patty?" + +"Oh, perhaps we shall be bridesmaids! I'd like that," added Susy. + +"And have black cake in little white boxes, just as many as we want. +Goody!" put in Hal. + +"Oh, children, how can you talk so?" cried Patty, all her half-formed +resolutions of keeping silence and not letting the others know how she +felt about it flying to the winds. "Do you really want a stepmother to +come in and scold and interfere and spoil all our comfort? Do you want +some one else to tell you what to do, and make you mind, instead of me? +You're too little to know about such things, but I know what stepmothers +are. I read about them in a book once, and they're dreadful creatures, +and always hate the children, and try to make their Papas hate them too. +It will be awful to have one, I think." + +Patty was absolutely crying as she finished this outburst; and, emotion +being contagious, the little ones began to cry also. + +"Why does Papa want to marry her, if she's so horrid?" sobbed Agnes. + +"I'll never love her!" declared Susy. + +"And I'll set my wooden dog on her!" added Hal. + +"Oh, Hal," protested Patty, alarmed at the effect of her own injudicious +explosion, "don't talk like that! We mustn't be rude to her. Papa +wouldn't like it. Of course, we needn't love her, or tell her things, or +call her 'mother,' but we _must_ be polite to her." + +"I don't know what you mean exactly, but I'm not going to be it, +anyway," said Agnes. + +And, indeed, Patty's notion of a politeness which was to include neither +liking nor confidence nor respect _was_ rather a difficult one to +comprehend. + +None of the children went to the wedding, which was a very quiet one. +Patty declared that she was glad; but in her heart I think she regretted +the loss of the excitement, and the opportunity for criticism. A big +loaf of thickly frosted sponge cake arrived for the children, with some +bon-bons, and a kind little note from the bride; and these offerings +might easily have placated the younger ones, had not Patty diligently +fanned the embers of discontent and kept them from dying out. + +And all the time she had no idea that she was doing wrong. She felt +ill-treated and injured, and her imagination played all sorts of +unhappy tricks. She made pictures of the future, in which she saw +herself neglected and unloved, her little sisters and brother +ill-treated, her father estranged, and the household under the rule of +an enemy, unscrupulous, selfish, and cruel. Over these purely imaginary +pictures she shed many needless tears. + +"But there's one thing," she told herself,--"it can't last always. When +girls are eighteen, they come of age, and can go away if they like; and +I _shall_ go away! And I shall take the children with me. Papa won't +care for any of us by that time; so he will not object." + +So with this league, offensive and defensive, formed against her, the +new Mrs. Flint came home. Mary the cook and Ann the housemaid joined in +it to a degree. + +"To be sure, it's provoking enough that Miss Patty can be when she's a +mind," observed Mary; "a-laying down the law, and ordering me about, +when she knows no more than the babe unborn how things should be done! +Still, I'd rather keep on wid her than be thrying my hand at a stranger. +This'll prove a hard missis, mark my word for it, Ann! See how the +children is set against her from the first! That's a sign." + +Everything was neat and in order on the afternoon when Dr. and Mrs. +Flint were expected. Patty had worked hard to produce this result. "She +shall see that I know how to keep house," she said to herself. All the +rooms had received thorough sweeping, all the rugs had been beaten and +the curtains shaken out, the chairs had their backs exactly to the wall, +and every book on the centre table lay precisely at right angles with a +second book underneath it. Patty's ideas of decoration had not got +beyond a stiff neatness. She had yet to learn how charming an easy +disorder can be made. + +The children, in immaculate white aprons, waited with her in the parlor. +They did not run out into the hall when the carriage stopped. The +malcontent Ann opened the door in silence. + +"Where are the children?" were the first words that Patty heard her +stepmother say. + +The voice was sweet and bright, with a sort of assured tone in it, as of +one used always to a welcome. She did not wait for the Doctor, but +walked into the room by herself, a tall, slender, graceful woman, with a +face full of brilliant meanings, of tenderness, sense, and fun. One look +out of her brown eyes did much toward the undoing of Patty's work of +prejudice with the little ones. + +"Patty, dear child, where are you?" she said. And she kissed her warmly, +not seeming to notice the averted eyes and the unresponding lips. Then +she turned to the little ones, and somehow, by what magic they could not +tell, in a very few minutes they had forgotten to be afraid of her, +forgotten that she was a stranger and a stepmother, and had begun to +talk to her freely and at their ease. Dr. Flint's face brightened as he +saw the group. + +"Getting acquainted with the new mamma?" he said. "That's right." + +But this was a mistake. It reminded the children that she was new, and +they drew back again into shyness. His wife gave him a rapid, humorous +look of warning. + +"It always takes a little while for people to get acquainted," she said; +"but these 'people' and I do not mean to wait long." + +She smiled as she spoke, and the children felt the fascination of her +manner; only Patty held aloof. + +The next few weeks went unhappily enough with her. She had to see her +adherents desert her, one by one; to know that Mary and Ann chanted the +praises of the new housekeeper to all their friends; to watch the little +girls' growing fondness for the stranger; to notice that little Hal +petted and fondled her as he had never done his rather rigorous elder +sister; and that her father looked younger and brighter and more content +than she had ever seen him look before. She had also to witness the +gradual demolishment of the stiff household arrangements which she had +inherited traditionally from her mother, and sedulously observed and +kept up. + +The new Mrs. Flint was a born homemaker. The little instinctive touches +which she administered here and there presently changed the whole aspect +of things. The chairs walked away from the walls; the sofa was wheeled +into the best position for the light; plants, which Patty had eschewed +as making trouble and "slop," blossomed everywhere. Books were +"strewed," as Patty in her secret thought expressed it, in all +directions; fresh flowers filled the vases; the blinds were thrown back +for the sunshine to stream in. The climax seemed to come when Mrs. Flint +turned out the air-tight stove, opened the disused fireplace, routed a +pair of andirons from the attic, and set up a wood fire. + +"It will snap all over the room. The ashes will dirty everything. The +children will set fire to their aprons, and burn up!" objected Patty. + +"There's a big wire fireguard coming to make the children safe," replied +her stepmother, easily. "As for the snapping and the dirt, that's all +fancy, Patty. I've lived with a wood fire all my life, and it's no +trouble at all, if properly managed. I'm sure you'll like it, dear, when +you are used to it." + +And the worst was that Patty _did_ like it. It was so with many of the +new arrangements. She opposed them violently at first in her heart, not +saying much,--for Mrs. Flint, with all her brightness and affectionate +sweetness, had an air of experience and authority about her which it was +not easy to dispute,--and later ended by confessing to herself that they +were improvements. A gradual thaw was taking place in her frozen little +nature. She fought against it; but as well might a winter-sealed pond +resist the sweet influences of spring. + +Against her will, almost without her knowledge, she was receiving the +impress of a character wider and sweeter and riper than her own. +Insensibly, an admiration of her stepmother grew upon her. She saw her +courted by strangers for her beauty and grace; she saw her become a sort +of queen among the young people of the town; but she also saw--she could +not help seeing--that no tinge of vanity ever marred her reception of +this regard, and that no duty was ever left undone, no kindness ever +neglected, because of the pressure of the pleasantness of life. And +then--for a girl cannot but enjoy being made the most of--she gradually +realized that Mrs. Flint, in spite of coldness and discouragement, cared +for her rights, protected her pleasures, was ready to take pains that +Patty should have her share and her chance, should be and appear at her +best. It was something she had missed always,--the supervision and +loving watchfulness of a mother. Now it was hers; and, though she fought +against the conviction, it was sent to her. + +In less than a year Patty had yielded unconditionally to the new +_régime_. She was a generous child at heart, and, her opposition once +conquered, she became fonder of her stepmother than all the rest put +together. Simply and thoroughly she gave herself up to be re-moulded +into a new pattern. Her standards changed; her narrow world of motives +and ideas expanded and enlarged, till from its confines she saw the +illimitable width of the whole universe. Sunshine lightened all her dark +places, and set her dormant capacities to growing. Such is the result, +at times, of one gracious, informing nature upon others. + +Before her eighteenth birthday, the date which she had set in her first +ignorant revolt of soul for escape from an imaginary tyranny, the +stepmother she had so dreaded was become her best and most intimate +friend. It was on that very day that she made for the first time a full +confession of her foolishness. + +"What a goose!--what a silly, bad thing I was!" she said. "I hated the +idea of you, Mamma. I said I never would like you, whatever you did; and +then I just went and fell in love with you!" + +"You hid the hatred tolerably well, but I am happy to say that you don't +hide the love," said Mrs. Flint, with a smile. + +"Hide it? I don't want to! I wonder what did make me behave so? Oh, I +know,--it was that absurd book! I wish people wouldn't write such +things, Mamma. When I'm quite grown up I mean to write a book myself, +and just tell everybody how different it really is, and that the nicest, +dearest, best things in the world, and the greatest blessings, +are--stepmothers." + +"Blessings in disguise," said Mrs. Flint. "Well, Patty, I am afraid I +was pretty thoroughly disguised in the beginning; but if you consider me +a blessing now, it's all right." + +"Oh, it's all just as right as it can be!" said Patty, fervently. + + + + +A GRANTED WISH. + + +This is a story about princesses and beggar-girls, hovels and palaces, +sweet things and sad things, fullness and scarcity. It is a simple story +enough, and mostly true. And as it touches so many and such different +extremes of human condition and human experience, it ought by good +rights to interest almost everybody; don't you think so? + +Effie Wallis's great wish was to have a doll of her own. This was not a +very unreasonable wish for any little girl to feel, one would think, yet +there seemed as little likelihood of its being granted as that the moon +should come down out of the sky and offer itself to her as a plaything; +for Effie and her parents belonged to the very poorest of the London +poor, and how deep a poverty that is, only London knows. + +We have poor people enough, and sin and suffering enough in our own +large cities, but I don't think the poorest of them are quite so badly +off as London's worst. Effie and her father and mother and her little +sister and her three brothers all lived in a single cellar-like room, in +the most squalid quarter of St. Giles. There was almost no furniture in +the room; in winter it was often fireless, in summer hot always, and +full of evil smells. Food was scanty, and sometimes wanting altogether, +for gin cost less than bread, and Effie's father was continuously drunk, +her mother not infrequently so. It was a miserable home and a wretched +family. The parents fought, the children cried and quarrelled, and the +parents beat them. As the boys grew bigger, they made haste to escape +into the streets, where all manner of evil was taught them. Jack, the +eldest, who was but just twelve, had twice been arrested, and sentenced +to a term of imprisonment for picking pockets. They were growing up to +be little thieves, young ruffians, and what chance for better things was +there in the squalid cellar and the comfortless life, and how little +chance of a doll for Effie, you will easily see. Poor doll-less Effie! +She was only six years old, and really a sweet little child. The grime +on her cheeks did not reach to her heart, which was as simple and +ignorant and innocent as that of white-clad children, whose mothers kiss +them, and whose faces are washed every day. + +In all her life Effie had only seen one doll. It was a battered object, +with one leg gone, and only half a nose, but, to Effie's eyes, it was a +beauty and a treasure. This doll was the property of a little girl to +whom Effie had never dared to speak, she seemed to her so happy and +privileged, so far above herself, as she strutted up and down the alley +with other children, bearing the one-legged doll in her arms. It was not +the alley in which the Wallises lived, but a somewhat wider one into +which that opened. One of Effie's few pleasures was to creep away when +she could, and, crouched behind a post at the alley's foot, watch the +children playing there. No one thought of or noticed her. Once, when the +owner of the doll threw her on the ground for a moment and ran away, +Effie ventured to steal out and touch the wonderful creature with her +finger. It was only a touch, for the other children soon returned, and +Effie fled back to her hiding-place; but she never forgot it. Oh, if +only she could have a doll like that for her own, what happiness it +would be, she thought; but she never dared to mention the doll to her +mother, or to put the wish into words. + +If any one had come in just then and told Effie that one day she was to +own a doll far more beautiful than the shabby treasure she so coveted, +and that the person to give it her would be the future Queen of +England,--why, first it would have been needful to explain to her what +the words meant, and then she certainly wouldn't have believed them. +What a wide, wide distance there seemed from the wretched alley where +the little, half-clad child crouched behind the post, to the sunny +palace where the fair princess, England's darling, sat surrounded by her +bright-faced children,--a distance too wide to bridge, as it would +appear; yet it was bridged, and there was a half-way point where both +could meet, as you will see. That half-way point was called "The Great +Ormond Street Child's Hospital." + +For one day a very sad thing happened to Effie. Sent by her mother to +buy a quartern of gin, she was coming back with the jug in her hand, +when a half-tipsy man, reeling against her, threw her down just where a +flight of steps led to a lower street. She was picked up and carried +home, where for some days she lay in great pain, before a kind woman who +went about to read the Bible to the poor, found her out, and sent the +dispensary doctor to see her. He shook his head gravely after he had +examined her, and said her leg was badly broken, and ought to have been +seen to long before, and that there was no use trying to cure her there, +and she must be carried to the hospital. Mrs. Wallis made a great outcry +over this, for mothers are mothers, even when they are poor and drunken +and ignorant, and do not like to have their children taken away from +them; but in the end the doctor prevailed. + +Effie hardly knew when they moved her, for the doctor had given her +something which made her sleep heavily and long. It was like a dream +when she at last opened her eyes, and found herself in a place which she +had never seen before,--a long, wide, airy room, with a double row of +narrow, white beds like the one in which she herself was, and in most of +the beds sick children lying. Bright colored pictures and texts painted +gaily in red and blue hung on the walls above the beds; some of the +counterpanes had pretty verses printed on them. Effie could not read, +but she liked to look at the texts, they were so bright. There were +flowers in pots and jars on the window-sills, and on some of the little +tables that stood beside the beds, and tiny chairs with rockers, in +which pale little boys and girls sat swinging to and fro. A great many +of them were playing with toys, and they all looked happy. An air of +fresh, cheerful neatness was over all the place, and altogether it was +so pleasant that for a long time Effie lay staring about her, and +speaking not a word. At last, in a faint little voice, she half +whispered, "Where is this?" + +Faint as was the voice, some one heard it, and came at once to the +bedside. This somebody was a nice, sweet-faced, motherly looking woman, +dressed in the uniform of Miss Nightingale's nurses. She smiled so +kindly at Effie that Effie smiled feebly back. + +"Where is this?" she asked again. + +"This is a nice place where they take care of little children who are +ill, and make them well again," answered the nurse, brightly. + +"Do you live here?" said Effie, after a pause, during which her large +eyes seemed to grow larger. + +"Yes. My name is Nurse Johnstone, and I am _your_ nurse. You've had a +long sleep, haven't you, dear? Now you've waked up, would you like some +nice milk to drink?" + +"Y-es," replied Effie, doubtfully. But when the milk came, she liked it +very much, it was so cool and rich and sweet. It was brought in a little +blue cup, and Effie drank it through a glass tube, because she must not +lift her head. There was a bit of white bread to eat besides, but Effie +did not care for that. She was drowsy still, and fell asleep as soon as +the last mouthful of milk was swallowed. + +When she next waked, Nurse Johnstone was there again, with such a good +little cupful of hot broth for Effie to eat, and another slice of bread. +Effie's head was clearer now, and she felt much more like talking and +questioning. The ward was dark and still, only a shaded lamp here and +there showed the little ones asleep in their cots. + +"This is a nice place I think," said Effie, as she slowly sipped the +soup. + +"I'm glad you like it," said the nurse, "almost all children do." + +"I like you, too," said Effie, with a contented sigh, "and _that_," +pointing to the broth. She had not once asked after her mother; the +nurse noticed, and she drew her own inferences. + +"Now," she said, after she had smoothed the bed clothes and Effie's +hair, and given the pillow a touch or two to make it easier, "now, it +would be nice if you would say one little Bible verse for me, and then +go to sleep again." + +"A verse?" said Effie. + +"Yes, a little Bible verse." + +"Bible?" repeated Effie, in a puzzled tone. + +"Yes, dear,--a Bible verse. Don't you know one?" + +"No." + +"But you've seen a Bible, surely." + +Effie shook her head. "I don't know what you mean," she said. + +"Why, you poor lamb," cried Nurse Johnstone, "I do believe you haven't! +Well, and in a Christian country, too! If that ain't too bad. I'll tell +you a verse this minute, you poor little thing, and to-morrow we'll see +if you can't learn it." Then, very slowly and reverently, she repeated, +"Suffer the little children to come unto Me, and forbid them not, for +of such is the kingdom of Heaven." Twice she repeated the text, Effie +listening attentively to the strange, beautiful words; then she kissed +her for good-night, and moved away. Effie lay awake awhile saying the +verse over to herself. She had a good memory, and when she waked next +morning she found that she was able to say it quite perfectly. + +That happened to be a Thursday, and Thursday was always a special day in +Great Ormond Street, because it was that on which the Princess of Wales +made her weekly visit to the hospital. Effie had never heard of a +princess, and had no idea what all the happy bustle meant, as nurses and +patients made ready for the coming guest. Nothing could be cleaner than +the ward in its every-day condition, but all little possible touches +were given to make it look its very best. Fresh flowers were put into +the jars, the little ones able to sit up, were made very neat, each +white bed was duly smoothed, and every face had a look as though +something pleasant was going to happen. Children easily catch the +contagion of cheerfulness, and Effie was insensibly cheered by seeing +other people so. She lay on her pillow, observing everything, and +faintly smiling, when the door opened, and in came a slender, beautiful +lady, wrapped in soft silks and laces, with two or three children beside +her. All the nurses began to courtesy, and the children to dimple and +twinkle at the sight of her. She walked straight to the middle of the +ward, then, lifting something up that all might see it, she said in a +clear sweet voice: "Isn't there some one of these little girls who can +say a pretty Bible verse for me? If there is, she shall have this." + +What do you think "this" was? No other than a doll! A large, beautiful +creature of wax, with curly brown hair, blue eyes which could open and +shut, the reddest lips and pinkest cheeks ever seen, and a place, +somewhere about her middle, which, when pinched, made her utter a +squeaky sound like "Mama." This delightful doll had on a pretty blue +dress with a scarlet sash, and a pair of brown kid boots with real +buttons. She wore a little blue hat on top of her curly head, and +sported an actual pocket-handkerchief, three inches square, or so, on +which was written her name, "Dolly Varden." All the little ones stared +at her with dazzled eyes, but for a moment no one spoke. I suppose they +really were too surprised to speak, till suddenly a little hand went up, +and a small voice was heard from the far corner. The voice came from +Effie, too, and it was Effie herself who spoke. + +"I can say a verse," said the small voice. + +"Can you? That is nice. Say it, then," said the princess, turning toward +her. + +Then the small, piping voice repeated, very slowly and distinctly, this +text: "Suffer the little children to come unto--_Nurse Johnstone_--and +forbid them not, for of such is the kingdom of Heaven!" + +What a laugh rang through the ward then! The nurses laughed, the little +ones laughed too, though they did not distinctly understand at what. +Nurse Johnstone cried as well as laughed, and the princess was almost as +bad, for her eyes were dewy, though a smile was on her sweet lips as she +stepped forward and laid the doll in Effie's hands. Nurse Johnstone +eagerly explained: "I said 'Come unto Me,' and she thought it meant +_me_, poor little lamb, and it's a shame there should be such ignorance +in a Christian land!" All this time Effie was hugging her dolly in a +silent rapture. Her wish was granted, and wasn't it strange that it +should have been granted just _so_? + +[Illustration: She stepped forward and laid the doll in Effie's +hands.--PAGE 282.] + +Do you want to know more about little Effie? There isn't much more to +tell. All the kindness and care which she received in Great Ormond +Street could not make her well again. She had no constitution, the +doctors said, and no strength. She lived a good many weeks, however, +and they were the happiest weeks of her life, I think. Dolly Varden +was always beside her, and Dolly was clasped tight in her arms when +she finally fell asleep to waken up no more. Nurse Johnstone, who had +learned to love the little girl dearly, wanted to lay the doll in the +small coffin; but the other nurses said it would be a pity to do so. +There are so few dolls and so many children in the world, you know; so +in the end Dolly Varden was given to another little sick girl, who took +as much pleasure in her as Effie had done. + +So Effie's wish was granted, though only for a little while. It is very +often so with wishes which we make in this world. But I am very sure +that Effie doesn't miss the dolly or anything else in the happy world +to which she has gone, and that the wishes granted there are granted +fully and forever, and more freely and abundantly than we who stay +behind can even guess. + + +THE END. + + + + +SUSAN COOLIDGE'S POPULAR STORY BOOKS. + +SUSAN COOLIDGE has always possessed the affection of her young readers, +for it seems as if she had the happy instinct of planning stories that +each girl would like to act out in reality.--_The Critic._ + +Not even Miss Alcott apprehends child nature with finer sympathy, or +pictures its nobler traits with more skill.--_Boston Daily Advertiser._ + + =THE NEW YEAR'S BARGAIN.= A Christmas Story for Children. With + Illustrations by ADDIE LEDYARD. 16mo. $1.25. + + =WHAT KATY DID.= A Story. With Illustrations by ADDIE LEDYARD. + 16mo. $1.25. + + =WHAT KATY DID AT SCHOOL.= Being more about "What Katy Did." + With Illustrations. 16mo. $1.25. + + =MISCHIEF'S THANKSGIVING=, and other Stories. With Illustrations + by ADDIE LEDYARD. 16mo. $1.25. + + =NINE LITTLE GOSLINGS.= With Illustrations by J. A. MITCHELL. + 16mo. $1.25. + + =EYEBRIGHT.= A Story. With Illustrations. 16mo. $1.25. + + =CROSS PATCH.= With Illustrations. 16mo. $1.25. + + =A ROUND DOZEN.= With Illustrations. 16mo. $1.25. + + =A LITTLE COUNTRY GIRL.= With Illustrations. 16mo. $1.25. + + =WHAT KATY DID NEXT.= With Illustrations. 16mo. $1.25. + + =CLOVER.= A Sequel to the Katy Books. With Illustrations by + JESSIE MCDERMOTT. 16mo. $1.25. + + =JUST SIXTEEN.= With Illustrations. 16mo. $1.25. + + =IN THE HIGH VALLEY.= With Illustrations. 16mo. $1.25. + + =A GUERNSEY LILY=; or, How the Feud was Healed. A Story of the + Channel Islands. Profusely Illustrated. 16mo. $1.25. + + =THE BARBERRY BUSH=, and Seven Other Stories about Girls for + Girls. With Illustrations by JESSIE MCDERMOTT. 16mo. $1.25. + + =NOT QUITE EIGHTEEN.= A volume of Stories. With illustrations by + JESSIE MCDERMOTT. 16mo. $1.25. + +_Sold by all booksellers. Mailed, post-paid, on receipt of price, by the +publishers_, ROBERTS BROTHERS, BOSTON + + + + +[Illustration] + +IN THE HIGH VALLEY. + +Being the Fifth and last volume of the "Katy Did Series." With +illustrations by JESSIE MCDERMOTT. + +One volume, square 16mo, cloth. Price, $1.25. + +ROBERTS BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS, BOSTON. + + + + +A GUERNSEY LILY; OR, HOW THE FEUD WAS HEALED + +A Story for Girls and Boys. + +[Illustration] + +BY + +SUSAN COOLIDGE, + +Author of "What Katy Did," "Clover," "In the High Valley," etc. + +NEW EDITION. Square 16mo. ILLUSTRATED. Price, $1.25. + +ROBERTS BROTHERS, BOSTON. + + + + +_Messrs. Roberts Brothers' Publications._ + +SUSAN COOLIDGE'S POPULAR BOOKS. + +[Illustration] + + =THE BARBERRY BUSH.= And Seven Other Stories about Girls for Girls. + By Susan Coolidge. Illustrated by Jessie McDermott. 16mo. + Cloth. Uniform with "What Katy Did," etc. Price, $1.25. + +_For sale by all booksellers, and mailed, post-paid, on receipt of price +by the publishers._ + +ROBERTS BROTHERS, BOSTON, MASS. + + + + +Transcriber's Note: + + Punctuation, spelling, hyphenation and language has been retained as + it appears in the original publication except as follows: + + Page 8 + + the shoulder of his off horse _changed to_ + the shoulder of his horse + + Page 194 + + a "a boat;" men pulled off _changed to_ + "a boat;" men pulled off + + Page 270 + + it summer hot always, _changed to_ + in summer hot always, + + Page 283 + + dolly was clasped tight in her arms _changed to_ + Dolly was clasped tight in her arms + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Not Quite Eighteen, by Susan Coolidge + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NOT QUITE EIGHTEEN *** + +***** This file should be named 33927-8.txt or 33927-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/3/9/2/33927/ + +Produced by Suzanne Shell and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + +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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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: Not Quite Eighteen + +Author: Susan Coolidge + +Release Date: October 14, 2010 [EBook #33927] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NOT QUITE EIGHTEEN *** + + + + +Produced by Suzanne Shell and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + + + + + +</pre> + + + +<hr /> + +<h1>NOT QUITE EIGHTEEN</h1> + +<hr class="hr3" /> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="400" height="555" alt="Cover" title="" /> +</div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/frontispiece.jpg" width="400" height="597" alt="Frontispiece" title="Page 16" /> +<span class="caption">The fox stared at her, and she stared back at the +fox.—<span class="smcap"><a href="#fox">Page 16.</a></span></span> +</div> + + +<hr /> + +<p class="center"><span class="title">NOT QUITE EIGHTEEN.</span><br /> +<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> +<span class="smcap author">By SUSAN COOLIDGE</span>,<br /> +<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> +<small>AUTHOR OF "WHAT KATY DID," "THE NEW YEAR'S BARGAIN,"<br /> +"THE BARBERRY BUSH," "A GUERNSEY LILY,"<br /> +"IN THE HIGH VALLEY," ETC.</small></p> + +<hr class="hr3" /> + +<p class="center"><span class="author">BOSTON:</span><br /> +ROBERTS BROTHERS.<br /> +1894.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="center"><i>Copyright, 1894</i>,<br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">By Roberts Brothers</span>.</p> + +<hr class="white" /> + +<p class="center"><span class="oldenglish">University Press:</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">John Wilson and Son, Cambridge, U.S.A.</span></p> + + + +<hr /> + +<h2><a name="contents" id="contents"></a>Contents</h2> + +<hr class="hr3" /> + +<table summary="Contents" class="width30"> +<tr> +<th class="thr2" colspan="3">PAGE</th> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdr">I.</td> +<td class="tdl"> <span class="smcap">How Bunny Brought Good Luck</span></td> +<td class="tdr2"><a href="#i">7</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdr">II.</td> +<td class="tdl"> <span class="smcap">A Bit of Wilfulness</span></td> +<td class="tdr2"><a href="#ii">30</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdr">III.</td> +<td class="tdl"> <span class="smcap">The Wolves of St. Gervas</span></td> +<td class="tdr2"><a href="#iii">42</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdr">IV.</td> +<td class="tdl"> <span class="smcap">Three Little Candles</span></td> +<td class="tdr2"><a href="#iv">62</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdr">V.</td> +<td class="tdl"> <span class="smcap">Uncle and Aunt</span></td> +<td class="tdr2"><a href="#v">83</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdr">VI.</td> +<td class="tdl"> <span class="smcap">The Corn-Ball Money</span></td> +<td class="tdr2"><a href="#vi">111</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdr">VII.</td> +<td class="tdl"> <span class="smcap">The Prize Girl of the Harnessing Class</span></td> +<td class="tdr2"><a href="#vii">123</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdr">VIII.</td> +<td class="tdl"> <span class="smcap">Dolly Phone</span></td> +<td class="tdr2"><a href="#viii">142</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdr">IX.</td> +<td class="tdl"> <span class="smcap">A Nursery Tyrant</span></td> +<td class="tdr2"><a href="#ix">165</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdr">X.</td> +<td class="tdl"> <span class="smcap">What the Pink Flamingo Did</span></td> +<td class="tdr2"><a href="#x">179</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdr">XI.</td> +<td class="tdl"> <span class="smcap">Two Pairs of Eyes</span></td> +<td class="tdr2"><a href="#xi">200</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdr">XII.</td> +<td class="tdl"> <span class="smcap">The Pony that Kept the Store</span></td> +<td class="tdr2"><a href="#xii">211</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdr">XIII.</td> +<td class="tdl"> <span class="smcap">Pink and Scarlet</span></td> +<td class="tdr2"><a href="#xiii">227</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdr">XIV.</td> +<td class="tdl"> <span class="smcap">Dolly's Lesson</span></td> +<td class="tdr2"><a href="#xiv">239</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdr">XV.</td> +<td class="tdl"> <span class="smcap">A Blessing in Disguise</span></td> +<td class="tdr2"><a href="#xv">252</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdr">XVI.</td> +<td class="tdl"> <span class="smcap">A Granted Wish</span></td> +<td class="tdr2"><a href="#xvi">269</a></td> +</tr> +</table> + + + + + +<hr /> + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span> +<a name="i" id="i"></a>HOW BUNNY BROUGHT GOOD LUCK.</h2> + +<hr class="hr3" /> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 94px;"> +<img src="images/dropi.jpg" width="94" height="100" alt="Ornate capital "I"" title="" /> +</div> + +<p class="noi"><span class="hidden">I</span>T was Midsummer's Day, that delightful point toward which the whole +year climbs, and from which it slips off like an ebbing wave in the +direction of the distant winter. No wonder that superstitious people in +old times gave this day to the fairies, for it is the most beautiful day +of all. The world seems full of bird-songs, sunshine, and flower-smells +then; storm and sorrow appear impossible things; the barest and ugliest +spot takes on a brief charm and, for the moment, seems lovely and +desirable.</p> + +<p>"That's a picturesque old place," said a lady on the back seat of the +big wagon in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span> which Hiram Swift was taking his summer boarders to drive.</p> + +<p>They were passing a low, wide farmhouse, gray from want of paint, with a +shabby barn and sheds attached, all overarched by tall elms. The narrow +hay-field and the vegetable-patch ended in a rocky hillside, with its +steep ledges, overgrown and topped with tall pines and firs, which made +a dense green background to the old buildings.</p> + +<p>"I don't know about its being like a picter," said Hiram, dryly, as he +flicked away a fly from the shoulder <a name="off" id="off"></a><ins title="Original had of his off horse">of his horse</ins>, "but it isn't +much by way of a farm. That bit of hay-field is about all the land there +is that's worth anything; the rest is all rock. I guess the Widow Gale +doesn't take much comfort in its bein' picturesque. She'd be glad enough +to have the land made flat, if she could."</p> + +<p>"Oh, is that the Gale farm, where the silver-mine is said to be?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, marm; at least, it's the farm where<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span> the man lived that, 'cordin' +to what folks say, said he'd found a silver-mine. I don't take a great +deal of stock in the story myself."</p> + +<p>"A silver-mine! That sounds interesting," said a pretty girl on the +front seat, who had been driving the horses half the way, aided and +abetted by Hiram, with whom she was a prime favorite. "Tell me about it, +Mr. Swift. Is it a story, and when did it all happen?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I don't know as it ever did happen," responded the farmer, +cautiously. "All I know for certain is, that my father used to tell a +story that, before I was born (nigh on to sixty years ago, that must +have been), Squire Asy Allen—that used to live up to that red house on +North Street, where you bought the crockery mug, you know, Miss +Rose—come up one day in a great hurry to catch the stage, with a lump +of rock tied in his handkerchief. Old Roger Gale had found it, he said, +and they thought it was silver ore;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span> and the Squire was a-takin' it down +to New Haven to get it analyzed. My father, he saw the rock, but he +didn't think much of it from the looks, till the Squire got back ten +days afterward and said the New Haven professor pronounced it silver, +sure enough, and a rich specimen; and any man who owned a mine of it had +his fortune made, he said. Then, of course, the township got excited, +and everybody talked silver, and there was a great to-do."</p> + +<p>"And why didn't they go to work on the mine at once?" asked the pretty +girl.</p> + +<p>"Well, you see, unfortunately, no one knew where it was, and old Roger +Gale had taken that particular day, of all others, to fall off his +hay-riggin' and break his neck, and he hadn't happened to mention to any +one before doing so where he found the rock! He was a close-mouthed old +chap, Roger was. For ten years after that, folks that hadn't anything +else to do went about hunting for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span> the silver-mine, but they gradooally +got tired, and now it's nothin' more than an old story. Does to amuse +boarders with in the summer," concluded Mr. Swift, with a twinkle. "For +my part, I don't believe there ever was a mine."</p> + +<p>"But there was the piece of ore to prove it."</p> + +<p>"Oh, that don't prove anything, because it got lost. No one knows what +became of it. An' sixty years is long enough for a story to get +exaggerated in."</p> + +<p>"I don't see why there shouldn't be silver in Beulah township," remarked +the lady on the back seat. "You have all kinds of other minerals +here,—soapstone and mica and emery and tourmalines and beryls."</p> + +<p>"Well, ma'am, I don't see nuther, unless, mebbe, it's the Lord's will +there shouldn't be."</p> + +<p>"It would be so interesting if the mine could be found!" said the pretty +girl.</p> + +<p>"It would be <i>so</i>, especially to the Gale family,—that is, if it was +found on their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span> land. The widow's a smart, capable woman, but it's as +much as she can do, turn and twist how she may, to make both ends meet. +And there's that boy of hers, a likely boy as ever you see, and just +hungry for book-l'arnin', the minister says. The chance of an eddication +would be just everything to him, and the widow can't give him one."</p> + +<p>"It's really a romance," said the pretty girl, carelessly, the wants and +cravings of others slipping off her young sympathies easily.</p> + +<p>Then the horses reached the top of the long hill they had been climbing, +Hiram put on the brake, and they began to grind down a hill equally +long, with a soft panorama of plumy tree-clad summits before them, +shimmering in the June sunshine. Drives in Beulah township were apt to +be rather perpendicular, however you took them.</p> + +<p>Some one, high up on the hill behind the farmhouse, heard the clank +of the brakes,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span> and lifted up her head to listen. It was Hester +Gale,—a brown little girl, with quick dark eyes, and a mane of curly +chestnut hair, only too apt to get into tangles. She was just eight +years old, and to her the old farmstead, which the neighbors scorned +as worthless, was a sort of enchanted land, full of delights and +surprises,—hiding-places which no one but herself knew, rocks and +thickets where she was sure real fairies dwelt, and cubby-houses sacred +to the use of "Bunny," who was her sole playmate and companion, and the +confidant to whom she told all her plans and secrets.</p> + +<p>Bunny was a doll,—an old-fashioned doll, carved out of a solid piece of +hickory-wood, with a stern expression of face, and a perfectly +unyielding figure; but a doll whom Hester loved above all things. Her +mother and her mother's mother had played with Bunny, but this only made +her the dearer.</p> + +<p>The two sat together between the gnarled<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span> roots of an old spruce which +grew near the edge of a steep little cliff. It was one of the loneliest +parts of the rocky hillside, and the hardest to get at. Hester liked it +better than any of her other hiding-places, because no one but herself +ever came there.</p> + +<p>Bunny lay in her lap, and Hester was in the middle of a story, when she +stopped to listen to the wagon grinding down-hill.</p> + +<p>"So the little chicken said, 'Peep! Peep!' and started off to see what +the big yellow fox was like," she went on. "That was a silly thing for +her to do, wasn't it, Bunny? because foxes aren't a bit nice to +chickens. But the little chicken didn't know any better, and she +wouldn't listen to the old hens when they told her how foolish she was. +That was wrong, because it's naughty to dis—dis—apute your elders, +mother says; children that do are almost always sorry afterward.</p> + +<p>"Well, she hadn't gone far before she heard a rustle in the bushes on +one side.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span> She thought it was the fox, and then she <i>did</i> feel +frightened, you'd better believe, and all the things she meant to say to +him went straight out of her head. But it wasn't the fox that time; it +was a teeny-weeny little striped squirrel, and he just said, 'It's a +sightly day, isn't it?' and, without waiting for an answer, ran up a +tree. So the chicken didn't mind <i>him</i> a bit.</p> + +<p>"Then, by and by, when she had gone a long way farther off from home, +she heard another rustle. It was just like—Oh, what's that, Bunny?"</p> + +<p>Hester stopped short, and I am sorry to say that Bunny never heard the +end of the chicken story, for the rustle resolved itself into—what do +you think?</p> + +<p>It was a fox! A real fox!</p> + +<p>There he stood on the hillside, gazing straight at Hester, with his +yellow brush waving behind him, and his eyes looking as sharp as the row +of gleaming teeth beneath<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span> them. Foxes were rare animals in the Beulah +region. Hester had never seen one before; but she had seen the picture +of a fox in one of Roger's books, so she knew what it was.</p> + +<p><a name="fox" id="fox"></a>The fox stared at her, and she stared back at the fox. Then her heart +melted with fear, like the heart of the little chicken, and she jumped +to her feet, forgetting Bunny, who fell from her lap, and rolled +unobserved over the edge of the cliff. The sudden movement startled the +fox, and he disappeared into the bushes with a wave of his yellow brush; +just how or where he went, Hester could not have told.</p> + +<p>"How sorry Roger will be that he wasn't here to see him!" was her first +thought. Her second was for Bunny. She turned, and stooped to pick up +the doll—and lo! Bunny was not there.</p> + +<p>High and low she searched, beneath grass tangles, under "juniper +saucers," among the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span> stems of the thickly massed blueberries and +hardhacks, but nowhere was Bunny to be seen. She peered over the ledge, +but nothing met her eyes below but a thick growth of blackish, stunted +evergreens. This place "down below" had been a sort of terror to +Hester's imagination always, as an entirely unknown and unexplored +region; but in the cause of the beloved Bunny she was prepared to risk +anything, and she bravely made ready to plunge into the depths.</p> + +<p>It was not so easy to plunge, however. The cliff was ten or twelve feet +in height where she stood, and ran for a considerable distance to right +and left without getting lower. This way and that she quested, and at +last found a crevice where it was possible to scramble down,—a steep +little crevice, full of blackberry briers, which scratched her face and +tore her frock. When at last she gained the lower bank, this further +difficulty presented itself: she could not tell where she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span> was. The +evergreen thicket nearly met over her head, the branches got into her +eyes, and buffeted and bewildered her. She could not make out the place +where she had been sitting, and no signs of Bunny could be found. At +last, breathless with exertion, tired, hot, and hopeless, she made her +way out of the thicket, and went, crying, home to her mother.</p> + +<p>She was still crying, and refusing to be comforted, when Roger came in +from milking. He was sorry for Hester, but not so sorry as he would have +been had his mind not been full of troubles of his own. He tried to +console her with a vague promise of helping her to look for Bunny "some +day when there wasn't so much to do." But this was cold comfort, and, in +the end, Hester went to bed heartbroken, to sob herself to sleep.</p> + +<p>"Mother," said Roger, after she had gone, "Jim Boies is going to his +uncle's, in New Ipswich, in September, to do chores and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span> help round a +little, and to go all winter to the academy."</p> + +<p>The New Ipswich Academy was quite a famous school then, and to go there +was a great chance for a studious boy.</p> + +<p>"That's a bit of good luck for Jim."</p> + +<p>"Yes; first-rate."</p> + +<p>"Not quite so first-rate for you."</p> + +<p>"No" (gloomily). "I shall miss Jim. He's always been my best friend +among the boys. But what makes me mad is that he doesn't care a bit +about going. Mother, why doesn't good luck ever come to us Gales?"</p> + +<p>"It was good luck for me when you came, Roger. I don't know how I should +get along without you."</p> + +<p>"I'd be worth a great deal more to you if I could get a chance at any +sort of schooling. Doesn't it seem hard, Mother? There's Squire Dennis +and Farmer Atwater, and half a dozen others in this township, who are +all<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span> ready to send their boys to college, and the boys don't want to go! +Bob Dennis says that he'd far rather do teaming in the summer, and take +the girls up to singing practice at the church, than go to all the +Harvards and Yales in the world; and I, who'd give my head, almost, to +go to college, can't! It doesn't seem half right, Mother."</p> + +<p>"No, Roger, it doesn't; not a quarter. There are a good many things that +don't seem right in this world, but I don't know who's to mend 'em. I +can't. The only way is to dig along hard and do what's to be done as +well as you can, whatever it is, and make the best of your 'musts.' +There's always a 'must.' I suppose rich people have them as well as poor +ones."</p> + +<p>"Rich people's boys can go to college."</p> + +<p>"Yes,—and mine can't. I'd sell all we've got to send you, Roger, since +your heart is so set on it, but this poor little farm wouldn't be half +enough, even if any one wanted to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span> buy it, which isn't likely. It's no +use talking about it, Roger; it only makes both of us feel bad.—Did you +kill the 'broilers' for the hotel?" she asked with a sudden change of +tone.</p> + +<p>"No, not yet."</p> + +<p>"Go and do it, then, right away. You'll have to carry them down early +with the eggs. Four pairs, Roger. Chickens are the best crop we can +raise on this farm."</p> + +<p>"If we could find Great-uncle Roger's mine, we'd eat the chickens +ourselves," said Roger, as he reluctantly turned to go.</p> + +<p>"Yes, and if that apple-tree'd take to bearing gold apples, we wouldn't +have to work at all. Hurry and do your chores before dark, Roger."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Gale was a Spartan in her methods, but, for all that, she sighed a +bitter sigh as Roger went out of the door.</p> + +<p>"He's such a smart boy," she told herself, "there's nothing he couldn't +do,—nothing,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span> if he had a chance. I do call it hard. The folks who have +plenty of money to do with have dull boys; and I, who've got a bright +one, can't do anything for him! It seems as if things weren't justly +arranged."</p> + +<p>Hester spent all her spare time during the next week in searching for +the lost Bunny. It rained hard one day, and all the following night; she +could not sleep for fear that Bunny was getting wet, and looked so pale +in the morning that her mother forbade her going to the hill.</p> + +<p>"Your feet were sopping when you came in yesterday," she said; "and +that's the second apron you've torn. You'll just have to let Bunny go, +Hester; no two ways about it."</p> + +<p>Then Hester moped and grieved and grew thin, and at last she fell ill. +It was low fever, the doctor said. Several days went by, and she was no +better. One noon, Roger came in from haying to find his mother with her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span> +eyes looking very much troubled. "Hester is light-headed," she said; "we +must have the doctor again."</p> + +<p>Roger went in to look at the child, who was lying in a little bedroom +off the kitchen. The small, flushed face on the pillow did not light up +at his approach. On the contrary, Hester's eyes, which were unnaturally +big and bright, looked past and beyond him.</p> + +<p>"Hessie, dear, don't you know Roger?"</p> + +<p>"He said he'd find Bunny for me some day," muttered the little voice; +"but he never did. Oh, I wish he would!—I wish he would! I do want her +so much!" Then she rambled on about foxes, and the old spruce-tree, and +the rocks,—always with the refrain, "I wish I had Bunny; I want her so +much!"</p> + +<p>"Mother, I do believe it's that wretched old doll she's fretted herself +sick over," said Roger, going back into the kitchen. "Now, I'll tell you +what! Mr. Hinsdale's going<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span> up to the town this noon, and he'll leave +word for the doctor to come; and the minute I've swallowed my dinner, +I'm going up to the hill to find Bunny. I don't believe Hessie'll get +any better till she's found."</p> + +<p>"Very well," said Mrs. Gale. "I suppose the hay'll be spoiled, but we've +got to get Hessie cured at any price."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'll find the doll. I know about where Hessie was when she lost it. +And the hay'll take no harm. I only got a quarter of the field cut, and +it's good drying weather."</p> + +<p>Roger made haste with his dinner. His conscience pricked him as he +remembered his neglected promise and his indifference to Hester's +griefs; he felt in haste to make amends. He went straight to the old +spruce, which, he had gathered from Hester's rambling speech, was the +scene of Bunny's disappearance. It was easily found, being the oldest +and largest on the hillside.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span> +Roger had brought a stout stick with him, and now, leaning over the +cliff edge, he tried to poke with it in the branches below, while +searching for the dolly. But the stick was not long enough, and slipped +through his fingers, disappearing suddenly and completely through the +evergreens.</p> + +<p>"Hallo!" cried Roger. "There must be a hole there of some sort. Bunny's +at the bottom of it, no doubt. Here goes to find her!"</p> + +<p>His longer legs made easy work of the steep descent which had so puzzled +his little sister. Presently he stood, waist-deep, in tangled hemlock +boughs, below the old spruce. He parted the bushes in advance, and moved +cautiously forward, step by step. He felt a cavity just before him, but +the thicket was so dense that he could see nothing.</p> + +<p>Feeling for his pocket-knife, which luckily was a stout one, he stood +still, cutting, slashing,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span> and breaking off the tough boughs, and +throwing them on one side. It was hard work, but after ten minutes a +space was cleared which let in a ray of light, and, with a hot, red face +and surprised eyes, Roger Gale stooped over the edge of a rocky cavity, +on the sides of which something glittered and shone. He swung himself +over the edge, and dropped into the hole, which was but a few feet deep. +His foot struck on something hard as he landed. He stooped to pick it +up, and his hand encountered a soft substance. He lifted both objects +out together.</p> + +<p>The soft substance was a doll's woollen frock. There, indeed, was the +lost Bunny, looking no whit the worse for her adventures, and the hard +thing on which her wooden head had lain was a pickaxe,—an old iron +pick, red with rust. Three letters were rudely cut on the handle,—R. P. +G. They were Roger's own initials. Roger<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span> Perkins Gale. It had been his +father's name also, and that of the great-uncle after whom they both +were named.</p> + +<p>With an excited cry, Roger stooped again, and lifted out of the hole a +lump of quartz mingled with ore. Suddenly he realized where he was and +what he had found. This was the long lost silver-mine, whose finding and +whose disappearance had for so many years been a tradition in the +township. Here it was that old Roger Gale had found his "speciment," +knocked off probably with that very pick, and, covering up all traces of +his discovery, had gone sturdily off to his farm-work, to meet his death +next week on the hay-rigging, with the secret locked within his breast. +For sixty years the evergreen thicket had grown and toughened and +guarded the hidden cavity beneath its roots; and it might easily have +done so for sixty years longer, if Bunny,—little wooden Bunny, with her +lack-lustre eyes and expressionless<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span> features,—had not led the way into +its tangles.</p> + +<p>Hester got well. When Roger placed the doll in her arms, she seemed to +come to herself, fondled and kissed her, and presently dropped into a +satisfied sleep, from which she awoke conscious and relieved. The "mine" +did not prove exactly a mine,—it was not deep or wide enough for that; +but the ore in it was rich in quality, and the news of its finding made +a great stir in the neighborhood. Mrs. Gale was offered a price for her +hillside which made her what she considered a rich woman, and she was +wise enough to close with the offer at once, and neither stand out for +higher terms nor risk the chance of mining on her own account. She and +her family left the quiet little farmhouse soon after that, and went to +live in Worcester. Roger had all the schooling he desired, and made +ready for Harvard and the law-school, where he worked<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span> hard, and laid +the foundations of what has since proved a brilliant career. You may be +sure that Bunny went to Worcester also, treated and regarded as one of +the most valued members of the family. Hester took great care of her, +and so did Hester's little girl later on; and even Mrs. Gale spoke +respectfully of her always, and treated her with honor. For was it not +Bunny who broke the long spell of evil fate, and brought good luck back +to the Gale family?</p> + +<p class="link"><a href="#contents">Back to contents</a></p> + +<hr /> + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span> +<a name="ii" id="ii"></a>A BIT OF WILFULNESS.</h2> + + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 91px;"> +<img src="images/dropt.jpg" width="91" height="100" alt="Ornate capital "T"" title="" /> +</div> + +<p class="noi"><span class="hidden">T</span>HERE was a great excitement in the Keene's pleasant home at Wrentham, +one morning, about three years ago. The servants were hard at work, +making everything neat and orderly. The children buzzed about like +active flies, for in the evening some one was coming whom none of them +had as yet seen,—a new mamma, whom their father had just married.</p> + +<p>The three older children remembered their own mamma pretty well; to the +babies, she was only a name. Janet, the eldest, recollected her best of +all, and the idea of somebody coming to take her place did not please +her at all. This was not from a sense of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span> jealousy for the mother who +was gone, but rather from a jealousy for herself; for since Mrs. Keene's +death, three years before, Janet had done pretty much as she liked, and +the idea of control and interference aroused within her, in advance, the +spirit of resistance.</p> + +<p>Janet's father was a busy lawyer, and had little time to give to the +study of his children's characters. He liked to come home at night, +after a hard day at his office, or in the courts, and find a nicely +arranged table and room, and a bright fire in the grate, beside which he +could read his newspaper without interruption, just stopping now and +then to say a word to the children, or have a frolic with the younger +ones before they went to bed. Old Maria, who had been nurse to all the +five in turn, managed the housekeeping; and so long as there was no +outward disturbance, Mr. Keene asked no questions.</p> + +<p>He had no idea that Janet, in fact, ruled the family. She was only +twelve, but she had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span> the spirit of a dictator, and none of the little +ones dared to dispute her will or to complain. In fact, there was not +often cause for complaint. When Janet was not opposed, she was both kind +and amusing. She had much sense and capacity for a child of her years, +and her brothers and sisters were not old enough to detect the mistakes +which she sometimes made.</p> + +<p>And now a stepmother was coming to spoil all this, as Janet thought. Her +meditations, as she dusted the china and arranged the flowers, ran +something after this fashion:</p> + +<p>"She's only twenty-one, Papa said, and that's only nine years older than +I am, and nine years isn't much. I'm not going to call her 'Mamma,' +anyway. I shall call her 'Jerusha,' from the very first; for Maria said +that Jessie was only a nickname, and I hate nicknames. I know she'll +want me to begin school next fall, but I don't mean to, for she don't +know anything about the schools here,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span> and I can judge better than she +can. There, that looks nice!" putting a tall spike of lilies in a pale +green vase. "Now I'll dress baby and little Jim, and we shall all be +ready when they come."</p> + +<p>It was exactly six, that loveliest hour of a lovely June day, when the +carriage stopped at the gate. Mr. Keene helped his wife out, and looked +eagerly toward the piazza, on which the five children were grouped.</p> + +<p>"Well, my dears," he cried, "how do you do? Why don't you come and kiss +your new mamma?"</p> + +<p>They all came obediently, pretty little Jim and baby Alice, hand in +hand, then Harry and Mabel, and, last of all, Janet. The little ones +shyly allowed themselves to be kissed, saying nothing, but Janet, true +to her resolution, returned her stepmother's salute in a matter-of-fact +way, kissed her father, and remarked:</p> + +<p>"Do come in, Papa; Jerusha must be tired!"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span> +Mr. Keene gave an amazed look at his wife. The corners of her mouth +twitched, and Janet thought wrathfully, "I do believe she is laughing at +me!" But Mrs. Keene stifled the laugh, and, taking little Alice's hand, +led the way into the house.</p> + +<p>"Oh, how nice, how pretty!" were her first words. "Look at the flowers, +James! Did you arrange them, Janet? I suspect you did."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Janet; "I did them all."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, dear," said Mrs. Keene, and stooped to kiss her again. It +was an affectionate kiss, and Janet had to confess to herself that this +new—person was pleasant looking. She had pretty brown hair and eyes, a +warm glow of color in a pair of round cheeks, and an expression at once +sweet and sensible and decided. It was a face full of attraction; the +younger children felt it, and began to sidle up and cuddle against the +new mamma. Janet felt the attraction, too, but she resisted it.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span> +"Don't squeeze Jerusha in that way," she said to Mabel; "you are +creasing her jacket. Jim, come here, you are in the way."</p> + +<p>"Janet," said Mr. Keene, in a voice of displeasure, "what do you mean by +calling your mother 'Jerusha'?"</p> + +<p>"She isn't my real mother," explained Janet, defiantly. "I don't want to +call her 'Mamma;' she's too young."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Keene laughed,—she couldn't help it.</p> + +<p>"We will settle by and by what you shall call me," she said. "But, +Janet, it can't be Jerusha, for that is not my name. I was baptized +Jessie."</p> + +<p>"I shall call you Mrs. Keene, then," said Janet, mortified, but +persistent. Her stepmother looked pained, but she said no more.</p> + +<p>None of the other children made any difficulty about saying "Mamma" to +this sweet new friend. Jessie Keene was the very woman to "mother" a +family of children.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span> Bright and tender and firm all at once, she was +playmate to them as well as authority, and in a very little while they +all learned to love her dearly,—all but Janet; and even she, at times, +found it hard to resist this influence, which was at the same time so +strong and so kind.</p> + +<p>Still, she did resist, and the result was constant discomfort to both +parties. To the younger children the new mamma brought added happiness, +because they yielded to her wise and reasonable authority. To Janet she +brought only friction and resentment, because she would not yield.</p> + +<p>So two months passed. Late in August, Mr. and Mrs Keene started on a +short journey which was to keep them away from home for two days. Just +as the carriage was driving away, Mrs. Keene suddenly said,—</p> + +<p>"Oh, Janet! I forgot to say that I would rather you didn't go see Ellen +Colton while<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span> we are away, or let any of the other children. Please tell +nurse about it."</p> + +<p>"Why mustn't I?" demanded Janet.</p> + +<p>"Because—" began her mother, but Mr. Keene broke in.</p> + +<p>"Never mind 'becauses,' Jessie; we must be off. It's enough for you, +Janet, that your mother orders it. And see that you do as she says."</p> + +<p>"It's a shame!" muttered Janet, as she slowly went back to the house. "I +always have gone to see Ellen whenever I liked. No one ever stopped me +before. I don't think it's a bit fair; and I wish Papa wouldn't speak to +me like that before—her."</p> + +<p>Gradually she worked herself into a strong fit of ill-temper. All day +long she felt a growing sense of injury, and she made up her mind not to +bear it. Next morning, in a towering state of self-will, she marched +straight down to the Coltons, resolved at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span> least to find out the meaning +of this vexatious prohibition.</p> + +<p>No one was on the piazza, and Janet ran up-stairs to Ellen's room, +expecting to find her studying her lessons.</p> + +<p>No; Ellen was in the bed, fast asleep. Janet took a story-book, and sat +down beside her. "She'll be surprised when she wakes up," she thought.</p> + +<p>The book proved interesting, and Janet read on for nearly half an hour +before Mrs. Colton came in with a cup and spoon in her hand. She gave a +scream when she saw Janet.</p> + +<p>"Mercy!" she cried, "what are you doing here? Didn't your ma tell you? +Ellen's got scarlet-fever."</p> + +<p>"No, she didn't tell me <i>that</i>. She only said I mustn't come here."</p> + +<p>"And why did you come?"</p> + +<p>Somehow Janet found it hard to explain, even to herself, why she had +been so determined not to obey.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span> +Very sorrowfully she walked homeward. She had sense enough to know how +dreadful might be the result of her disobedience, and she felt humble +and wretched. "Oh, if only I hadn't!" was the language of her heart.</p> + +<p>The little ones had gone out to play. Janet hurried to her own room, and +locked the door.</p> + +<p>"I won't see any of them till Papa comes," she thought. "Then perhaps +they won't catch it from me."</p> + +<p>She watched from the window till Maria came out to hang something on the +clothesline, and called to her.</p> + +<p>"I'm not coming down to dinner," she said. "Will you please bring me +some, and leave it by my door? No, I'm not ill, but there are reasons. +I'd rather not tell anybody about them but Mamma."</p> + +<p>"Sakes alive!" said old Maria to herself, "she called missus 'Mamma.' +The skies must be going to fall."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span> +Mrs. Keene's surprise may be imagined at finding Janet thus, in a state +of voluntary quarantine.</p> + +<p>"I am so sorry," she said, when she had listened to her confession. +"Most sorry of all for you, my child, because you may have to bear the +worst penalty. But it was brave and thoughtful in you to shut yourself +up to spare the little ones, dear Janet."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mamma!" cried Janet, bursting into tears. "How kind you are not to +scold me! I have been so horrid to you always." All the pride and +hardness were melted out of her now, and for the first time she clung to +her stepmother with a sense of protection and comfort.</p> + +<p>Janet said afterwards, that the fortnight which she spent in her room, +waiting to know if she had caught the fever, was one of the nicest times +she ever had. The children and the servants, and even Papa, kept away +from her, but Mrs. Keene came as often and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span> stayed as long as she could; +and, thrown thus upon her sole companionship, Janet found out the worth +of this dear, kind stepmother. She did <i>not</i> have scarlet-fever, and at +the end of three weeks was allowed to go back to her old ways, but with +a different spirit.</p> + +<p>"I can't think why I didn't love you sooner," she told Mamma once.</p> + +<p>"I think I know," replied Mrs. Keene, smiling. "That stiff little will +was in the way. You willed not to like me, and it was easy to obey your +will; but now you will to love me, and loving is as easy as unloving +was."</p> + +<p class="link"><a href="#contents">Back to contents</a></p> + +<hr /> + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span> +<a name="iii" id="iii"></a>THE WOLVES OF ST. GERVAS.</h2> + + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 91px;"> +<img src="images/dropt.jpg" width="91" height="100" alt="Ornate capital "T"" title="" /> +</div> + +<p class="noi"><span class="hidden">T</span>HERE never seemed a place more in need of something to make it merry +than was the little Swiss hamlet of St. Gervas toward the end of March, +some years since.</p> + +<p>The winter had been the hardest ever known in the Bernese Oberland. Ever +since November the snow had fallen steadily, with few intermissions, and +the fierce winds from the Breithorn and the St. Theodule Pass had blown +day and night, and the drifts deepened in the valleys, and the icicles +on the eaves of the chalets grown thicker and longer. The old wives had +quoted comforting saws about a "white Michaelmas making a brown +Easter;"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span> but Easter was at hand now, and there were no signs of +relenting yet.</p> + +<p>Week after week the strong men had sallied forth with shovels and +pickaxes to dig out the half-buried dwellings, and to open the paths +between them, which had grown so deep that they seemed more like +trenches than footways.</p> + +<p>Month after month the intercourse between neighbors had become more +difficult and meetings less frequent. People looked over the white +wastes at each other, the children ran to the doors and shouted messages +across the snow, but no one was brave enough to face the cold and the +drifts.</p> + +<p>Even the village inn was deserted. Occasionally some hardy wayfarer came +by and stopped for a mug of beer and to tell Dame Ursel, the landlady, +how deep the snows were, how black clouds lay to the north, betokening +another fall, and that the shoulders and flanks of the Matterhorn were +whiter<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span> than man had ever seen them before. Then he would struggle on +his way, and perhaps two or three days would pass before another guest +crossed the threshold.</p> + +<p>It was a sad change for the Kröne, whose big sanded kitchen was usually +crowded with jolly peasants, and full of laughter and jest, the clinking +of glasses, and the smoke from long pipes. Dame Ursel felt it keenly.</p> + +<p>But such jolly meetings were clearly impossible now. The weather was too +hard. Women could not easily make their way through the snow, and they +dared not let the children play even close to the doors; for as the wind +blew strongly down from the sheltering forest on the hill above, which +was the protection of St. Gervas from landslides and avalanches, shrill +yelping cries would ever and anon be heard, which sounded very near. The +mothers listened with a shudder, for it was known that the wolves, +driven by hunger, had ventured nearer to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span> the hamlet than they had ever +before done, and were there just above on the hillside, waiting to make +a prey of anything not strong enough to protect itself against them.</p> + +<p>"Three pigs have they carried off since Christmas," said Mère Kronk, +"and one of those the pig of a widow! Two sheep and a calf have they +also taken; and only night before last they all but got at the Alleene's +cow. Matters have come to a pass indeed in St. Gervas, if cows are to be +devoured in our very midst! Toinette and Pertal, come in at once! Thou +must not venture even so far as the doorstep unless thy father be along, +and he with his rifle over his shoulder, if he wants me to sleep of +nights."</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear!" sighed little Toinette for the hundredth time. "How I wish +the dear summer would come! Then the wolves would go away, and we could +run about as we used, and Gretchen Slaut and I go to the Alp for +berries. It seems as if it had been<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span> winter forever and ever. I haven't +seen Gretchen or little Marie for two whole weeks. <i>Their</i> mother, too, +is fearful of the wolves."</p> + +<p>All the mothers in St. Gervas were fearful of the wolves.</p> + +<p>The little hamlet was, as it were, in a state of siege. Winter, the +fierce foe, was the besieger. Month by month he had drawn his lines +nearer, and made them stronger; the only hope was in the rescue which +spring might bring. Like a beleaguered garrison, whose hopes and +provisions are running low, the villagers looked out with eager eyes for +the signs of coming help, and still the snows fell, and the help did not +come.</p> + +<p>How fared it meanwhile in the forest slopes above?</p> + +<p>It is not a sin for a wolf to be hungry, any more than it is for a man; +and the wolves of St. Gervas were ravenous indeed. All their customary +supplies were cut off. The leverets<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span> and marmots, and other small +animals on which they were accustomed to prey, had been driven by the +cold into the recesses of their hidden holes, from which they did not +venture out. There was no herbage to tempt the rabbits forth, no tender +birch growths for the strong gray hares.</p> + +<p>No doubt the wolves talked the situation over in their wolfish language, +realized that it was a desperate one, and planned the daring forays +which resulted in the disappearance of the pigs and sheep and the attack +on the Alleene's cow. The animals killed all belonged to outlying houses +a little further from the village than the rest; but the wolves had +grown bold with impunity, and, as Mère Kronk said, there was no knowing +at what moment they might make a dash at the centre of the hamlet.</p> + +<p>I fear they would have enjoyed a fat little boy or girl if they could +have come across one astray on the hillside, near their haunts,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span> very +much. But no such luck befell them. The mothers of St. Gervas were too +wary for that, and no child went out after dark, or ventured more than a +few yards from the open house-door, even at high noon.</p> + +<p>"Something must be done," declared Johann Vecht, the bailiff. "We are +growing sickly and timorous. My wife hasn't smiled for a month. She +talks of nothing but snow and wolves, and it is making the children +fearful. My Annerle cried out in her sleep last night that she was being +devoured, and little Kasper woke up and cried too. Something must be +done!"</p> + +<p>"Something must indeed be done!" repeated Solomon, the forester. "We are +letting the winter get the better of us, and losing heart and courage. +We must make an effort to get together in the old neighborly way; that's +what we want."</p> + +<p>This conversation took place at the Kröne, and here the landlady, who +was tired of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span> empty kitchen and scant custom, put in her word:—</p> + +<p>"You are right, neighbors. What we need is to get together, and feast +and make merry, forgetting the hard times. Make your plans, and trust me +to carry them out to the letter. Is it a feast that you decide upon? I +will cook it. Is it a <i>musiker fest</i>? My Carl, there, can play the +zither with any other, no matter whom it be, and can sing. <i>Himmel</i>! how +he can sing! Command me! I will work my fingers to the bone rather than +you shall not be satisfied."</p> + +<p>"Aha, the sun!" cried Solomon; for as the landlady spoke, a pale yellow +ray shot through the pane and streamed over the floor. "That is a good +omen. Dame Ursel, thou art right. A jolly merrymaking is what we all +want. We will have one, and thou shalt cook the supper according to thy +promise."</p> + +<p>Several neighbors had entered the inn<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span> kitchen since the talk began, so +that quite a company had collected,—more than had got together since +the mass on Christmas Day. All were feeling cheered by the sight of the +sunshine; it seemed a happy moment to propose the merrymaking.</p> + +<p>So it was decided then and there that a supper should be held that day +week at the Kröne, men and women both to be invited,—all, in fact, who +could pay and wished to come. It seemed likely that most of the +inhabitants of St. Gervas would be present, such enthusiasm did the plan +awake in young and old. The week's delay would allow time to send to the +villagers lower down in the valley for a reinforcement of tobacco, for +the supply of that essential article was running low, and what was a +feast without tobacco?</p> + +<p>"We shall have a quarter of mutton," declared the landlady. "Neils +Austerman is to kill next Monday, and I will send at once<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span> to bespeak +the hind-quarter. That will insure a magnificent roast. Three fat geese +have I also, fit for the spit, and four hens. Oh, I assure you, my +masters, that there shall be no lack on my part! My Fritz shall get a +large mess of eels from the Lake. He fishes through the ice, as thou +knowest, and is lucky; the creatures always take his hook. Fried eels +are excellent eating! You will want a plenty of them. Three months +<i>maigre</i> is good preparation for a feast. Wine and beer we have in +plenty in the cellar, and the cheese I shall cut is as a cartwheel for +bigness. Bring you the appetites, my masters, and I will engage that the +supply is sufficient."</p> + +<p>The landlady rubbed her hands as she spoke, with an air of joyful +anticipation.</p> + +<p>"My mouth waters already with thy list," declared Kronk. "I must hasten +home and tell my dame of the plan. It will raise her spirits, poor soul, +and she is sadly in need of cheering."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span> +The next week seemed shorter than any week had seemed since Michaelmas. +True, the weather was no better. The brief sunshine had been followed by +a wild snowstorm, and the wind was still blowing furiously.</p> + +<p>But now there was something to talk and think about besides weather. +Everybody was full of the forthcoming feast. Morning after morning Fritz +of the Kröne could be seen sitting beside his fishing-holes on the +frozen lake, patiently letting down his lines, and later, climbing the +hill, his basket laden with brown and wriggling eels. Everybody crowded +to the windows to watch him,—the catch was a matter of public interest.</p> + +<p>Three hardy men on snow-shoes, with guns over their shoulders, had +ventured down to St. Nicklaus, and returned, bringing the wished-for +tobacco and word that the lower valleys were no better off than the +upper, that everything was buried in snow, and no one had got in from +the Rhone valley for three weeks or more.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span> +Anxiously was the weather watched as the day of the feast drew near; and +when the morning dawned, every one gave a sigh of relief that it did not +snow. It was gray and threatening, but the wind had veered, and blew +from the southwest. It was not nearly so cold, and a change seemed at +hand.</p> + +<p>The wolves of St. Gervas were quite as well aware as the inhabitants +that something unusual was going forward.</p> + +<p>From their covert in the sheltering wood they watched the stir and +excitement, the running to and fro, the columns of smoke which streamed +upward from the chimneys of the inn. As the afternoon drew on, strange +savory smells were wafted upward by the strong-blowing wind,—smells of +frying and roasting, and hissing fat.</p> + +<p>"Oh, how it smells! How good it does smell!" said one wolf. He snuffed +the wind greedily, then threw back his head and gave vent to a long +"O-w!"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span> +The other wolves joined in the howl.</p> + +<p>"What can it be? Oh, how hungry it makes me!" cried one of the younger +ones. "O-w-w-w!"</p> + +<p>"What a dreadful noise those creatures are making up there," remarked +Frau Kronk as, under the protection of her stalwart husband, she hurried +her children along the snow path toward the Kröne. "They sound so +hungry! I shall not feel really safe till we are all at home again, with +the door fast barred."</p> + +<p>But she forgot her fears when the door of the inn was thrown hospitably +open as they drew near, and the merry scene inside revealed itself.</p> + +<p>The big sanded kitchen had been dressed with fir boughs, and was +brightly lighted with many candles. At the great table in the midst sat +rows of men and women, clad in their Sunday best. The men were smoking +long pipes, tall mugs of beer stood before<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span> everybody, and a buzz of +talk and laughter filled the place.</p> + +<p>Beyond, in the wide chimney, blazed a glorious fire, and about and over +it the supper could be seen cooking. The quarter of mutton, done to a +turn, hung on its spit, and on either side of it sputtered the geese and +the fat hens, brown and savory, and smelling delicious. Over the fire on +iron hooks hung a great kettle of potatoes and another of cabbage.</p> + +<p>On one side of the hearth knelt Gretel, the landlord's daughter, +grinding coffee, while on the other her brother Fritz brandished an +immense frying-pan heaped with sizzling eels, which sent out the loudest +smells of all.</p> + +<p>The air of the room was thick with the steam of the fry mingled with the +smoke of the pipes. A fastidious person might have objected to it as +hard to breathe, but the natives of St. Gervas were not fastidious, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span> +found no fault whatever with the smells and the smoke which, to them, +represented conviviality and good cheer. Even the dogs under the table +were rejoicing in it, and sending looks of expectation toward the +fireplace.</p> + +<p>"Welcome, welcome!" cried the jolly company as the Kronks appeared. +"Last to come is as well off as first, if a seat remains, and the supper +is still uneaten. Sit thee down, Dame, while the young ones join the +other children in the little kitchen. Supper is all but ready, and a +good one too, as all noses testify. Those eels smell rarely. It is but +to fetch the wine now, and then fall to, eh, Landlady?"</p> + +<p>"Nor shall the wine be long lacking!" cried Dame Ursel, snatching up a +big brown pitcher. "Sit thee down, Frau Kronk. That place beside thy +gossip Barbe was saved for thee. 'Tis but to go to the cellar and +return, and all will be ready. Stir the eels once<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span> more, Fritz; and +thou, Gretchen, set the coffee-pot on the coals. I shall be back in the +twinkling of an eye."</p> + +<p>There was a little hungry pause. From the smaller kitchen, behind, the +children's laughter could be heard.</p> + +<p>"It is good to be in company again," said Frau Kronk, sinking into her +seat with a sigh of pleasure.</p> + +<p>"Yes, so we thought,—we who got up the feast," responded Solomon, the +forester. "'Neighbors,' says I, 'we are all getting out of spirits with +so much cold and snow, and we must rouse ourselves and do something.' +'Yes,' says they, 'but what?' 'Nothing can be plainer,' says I, 'we +must'—<i>Himmel</i>! what is that?"</p> + +<p>What was it, indeed?</p> + +<p>For even as Solomon spoke, the heavy door of the kitchen burst open, +letting in a whirl of cold wind and sleet, and letting in something else +as well.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span> +For out of the darkness, as if blown by the wind, a troop of dark swift +shapes darted in.</p> + +<p>They were the wolves of St. Gervas, who, made bold by hunger, and +attracted and led on by the strong fragrance of the feast, had forgotten +their usual cowardice, and, stealing from the mountain-side and through +the deserted streets of the hamlet, had made a dash at the inn.</p> + +<p>There were not less than twenty of them; there seemed to be a hundred.</p> + +<p>As if acting by a preconcerted plan, they made a rush at the fireplace. +The guests sat petrified round the table, with their dogs cowering at +their feet, and no one stirred or moved, while the biggest wolf, who +seemed the leader of the band, tore the mutton from the spit, while the +next in size made a grab at the fat geese and the fowls, and the rest +seized upon the eels, hissing hot as they were, in the pan. Gretchen and +Fritz sat in their respective corners of the hearth,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span> paralyzed with +fright at the near, snapping jaws and the fierce red eyes which glared +at them.</p> + +<p>Then, overturning the cabbage-pot as they went, the whole pack whirled, +and sped out again into the night, which seemed to swallow them up all +in a moment.</p> + +<p>And still the guests sat as if turned to stone, their eyes fixed upon +the door, through which the flakes of the snow-squall were rapidly +drifting; and no one had recovered voice to utter a word, when Dame +Ursel, rosy and beaming, came up from the cellar with her brimming +pitcher.</p> + +<p>"Why is the door open?" she demanded. Then her eyes went over to the +fireplace, where but a moment before the supper had been. Had been; for +not an eatable article remained except the potatoes and the cabbages and +cabbage water on the hearth. From far without rang back a long howl +which had in it a note of triumph.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span> +This was the end of the merrymaking. The guests were too startled and +terrified to remain for another supper, even had there been time to cook +one. Potatoes, black bread, and beer remained, and with these the braver +of the guests consoled themselves, while the more timorous hurried home, +well protected with guns, to barricade their doors, and rejoice that it +was their intended feast and not themselves which was being discussed at +that moment by the hungry denizens of the forest above.</p> + +<p>There was a great furbishing up of bolts and locks next day, and a +fitting of stout bars to doors which had hitherto done very well without +such safeguards; but it was a long time before any inhabitant of St. +Gervas felt it safe to go from home alone, or without a rifle over his +shoulder.</p> + +<p>So the wolves had the best of the merrymaking, and the villagers +decidedly the worst. Still, the wolves were not altogether to be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span> +congratulated; for, stung by their disappointment and by the unmerciful +laughter and ridicule of the other villages, the men of St. Gervas +organized a great wolf-hunt later in the spring, and killed such a +number that to hear a wolf howl has become a rare thing in that part of +the Oberland.</p> + +<p>"Ha! ha! my fine fellow, you are the one that made off with our mutton +so fast," said the stout forester, as he stripped the skin from the +largest of the slain. "Your days for mutton are over, my friend. It will +be one while before you and your thievish pack come down again to +interrupt Christian folk at their supper!"</p> + +<p>But, in spite of Solomon's bold words, the tale of the frustrated feast +has passed into a proverb; and to-day in the neighboring chalets and +hamlets you may hear people say, "Don't count on your mutton till it's +in your mouth, or it may fare with you as with the merry-makers at St. +Gervas."</p> + +<p class="link"><a href="#contents">Back to contents</a></p> + +<hr /> + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span> +<a name="iv" id="iv"></a>THREE LITTLE CANDLES.</h2> + + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 91px;"> +<img src="images/dropt.jpg" width="91" height="100" alt="Ornate capital "T"" title="" /> +</div> + +<p class="noi"><span class="hidden">T</span>HE winter dusk was settling down upon the old farmhouse where three +generations of Marshes had already lived and died. It stood on a gentle +rise of ground above the Kittery sands,—a low, wide, rambling +structure, outgrowth of the gradual years since great-grandfather Marsh, +in the early days of the colony, had built the first log-house, and so +laid the foundation of the settlement.</p> + +<p>This log-house still existed. It served as a lean-to for the larger +building, and held the buttery, the "out-kitchen" for rougher work, and +the woodshed. Moss and lichens clustered thickly between the old logs, +to which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span> time had communicated a rich brown tint; a mat of luxuriant +hop-vine clothed the porch, and sent fantastic garlands up to the +ridgepole. The small heavily-puttied panes in the windows had taken on +that strange iridescence which comes to glass with the lapse of time, +and glowed, when the light touched them at a certain angle, with odd +gleams of red, opal, and green-blue.</p> + +<p>On one of the central panes was an odd blur or cloud. Cynthia Marsh +liked to "play" that it was a face,—the face of a girl who used to +crawl out of that window in the early days of the house, but had long +since grown up and passed away. It was rather a ghostly playmate, but +Cynthia enjoyed her.</p> + +<p>This same imaginative little Cynthia was sitting with her brother and +sister in the "new kitchen," which yet was a pretty old one, and had +rafters overhead, and bunches of herbs and strings of dried apples tied +to them. It was still the days of pot-hooks and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span> trammels, and a kettle +of bubbling mush hung on the crane over the fire, which smelt very good. +Every now and then Hepzibah, the old servant, would come and give it a +stir, plunging her long spoon to the very bottom of the pot. It was the +"Children's Hour," though no Longfellow had as yet given the pretty name +to that delightful time between daylight and dark, when the toils of the +day are over, and even grown people can fold their busy hands and rest +and talk and love each other, with no sense of wasted time to spoil +their pleasure.</p> + +<p>"I say," began Reuben, who, if he had lived to-day, would have put on +his cards "Reuben Marsh, 4th," "what do you think? We're going to have +our little candles to-night. Aunt Doris said that mother said so. Isn't +that famous!"</p> + +<p>"Are we really?" cried Cynthia, clasping her hands. "How glad I am! It's +more than a year since we had any little candles,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span> and though I've tried +to be good, I was so afraid when you broke the oil-lamp, the other day, +that it would put them off. I do love them so!"</p> + +<p>"How many candles may we have?" asked little Eunice.</p> + +<p>"Oh, there are only three,—one for each of us. Mother gave the rest +away, you know. Have you made up any story yet, Eunice?"</p> + +<p>"I did make one, but I've forgotten part of it. It was a great while +ago, when I thought we were surely going to get the candles, and then +Reuben had that quarrel with Friend Amos's son, and mother would not let +us have them. She said a boy who gave place to wrath did not deserve a +little candle."</p> + +<p>"I know," said Reuben, penitently. "But that was a great while ago, and +I've not given place to wrath since. You must begin and think of your +story very hard, Eunice,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span> or the candle will burn out while you are +remembering it."</p> + +<p>These "little candles," for the amusement of children, were an ancient +custom in New England, long practised in the Marsh family. When the +great annual candle-dipping took place, and the carefully saved tallow, +with its due admixture of water and bayberry wax for hardness, was made +hot in the kettle, and the wicks, previously steeped in alum, were tied +in bunches so that no two should touch each other, and dipped and dried, +and dipped again, at the end of each bundle was hung two or three tiny +candles, much smaller than the rest. These were rewards for the children +when they should earn them by being unusually good. They were lit at +bedtime, and, by immemorial law, so long as the candles burned, the +children might tell each other ghost or fairy stories, which at other +times were discouraged, as having a bad effect on the mind. This +privilege was greatly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span> valued, and the advent of the little candles made +a sort of holiday, when holidays were few and far between.</p> + +<p>"I suppose Reuben will have his candle first, as he is the oldest," said +Eunice.</p> + +<p>"Mother said last year that we should have them all three on the same +night," replied Cynthia. "She said she would rather that we lay awake +till half-past nine for once, than till half-past eight for three times. +It's much nicer, I think. It's like having plenty to eat at one dinner, +instead of half-enough several days running. Eunice, you'd better burn +your candle first, I think, because you get sleepy a great deal sooner +than Reuby or I do. You needn't light it till after you're in bed, you +know, and that will make it last longer. When it's done, I'll hurry and +go to bed too, and then we'll light mine; and Reuben can do the same, +and if he leaves his door open, we shall hear his story perfectly well. +Oh, what fun it will be! I wish there<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span> were ever and ever so many little +candles,—a hundred, at the very least!"</p> + +<p>"Hepsy, ain't supper nearly ready? We're in such a hurry to-night!" said +Eunice.</p> + +<p>"Why, what are you in a hurry about?" demanded Hepsy, giving a last stir +to the mush, which had grown deliciously thick.</p> + +<p>"We want to go to bed early."</p> + +<p>"That's a queer reason! You're not so sharp set after bed, as a general +thing. Well, the mush is done. Reuby, ring the bell at the shed door, +and as soon as the men come in, we'll be ready."</p> + +<p>It was a good supper. The generous heat of the great fireplace in the +Marsh kitchen seemed to communicate a special savor of its own to +everything that was cooked before it, as if the noble hickory logs lent +a forest flavor to the food. The brown bread and beans and the squash +pies from the deep brick oven were excellent; and the "pumpkin sweets," +from the same charmed receptacle, had come<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span> out a deep rich red color, +jellied with juice to their cores. Nothing could have improved them, +unless it were the thick yellow cream which Mrs. Marsh poured over each +as she passed it. The children ate as only hearty children can eat, but +the recollection of the little candles was all the time in their minds, +and the moment that Reuben had finished his third apple he began to +fidget.</p> + +<p>"Mayn't we go to bed now?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Not till father has returned thanks," said his mother, rebukingly. "You +are glad enough to take the gifts of the Lord, Reuben. You should be +equally ready to pay back the poor tribute of a decent gratitude."</p> + +<p>Reuben sat abashed while Mr. Marsh uttered the customary words, which +was rather a short prayer than a long grace. The boy did not dare to +again allude to the candles, but stood looking sorry and shamefaced, +till his mother, laying her hand indulgently on his shoulder, slipped +the little candle in his fingers.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span> +"Thee didn't mean it, dear, I know," she whispered. "It's natural enough +that thee shouldst be impatient. Now take thy candle, and be off. +Cynthia, Eunice, here are the other two, and remember, all of you, that +not a word must be told of the stories when once the candles burn out. +This is the test of obedience. Be good children, and I'll come up later +to see that all is safe."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Marsh was of Quaker stock, but she only reverted to the once +familiar <i>thee</i> and <i>thou</i> at times when she felt particularly kind and +tender. The children liked to have her do so. It meant that mother loved +them more than usual.</p> + +<p>The bedrooms over the kitchen, in which the children slept, were very +plain, with painted floors and scant furniture; but they were used to +them, and missed nothing. The moon was shining, so that little Eunice +found no difficulty in undressing without a light. As soon as she was in +bed, she called to the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span> others, who were waiting in Reuben's room, "I'm +all ready!"</p> + +<p>A queer clicking noise followed. It was made by Reuben's striking the +flint of the tinder-box. In another moment the first of the little +candles was lighted. They fetched it in; and the others sat on the foot +of the bed while Eunice, raised on her pillow, with red, excited cheeks, +began:—</p> + +<p>"I've remembered all about my story, and this is it: Once there was a +Fairy. He was not a bad fairy, but a very good one. One day he broke his +wing, and the Fairy King said he mustn't come to court any more till he +got it mended. This was very hard, because glue and things like that +don't stick to Fairies' wings, you know."</p> + +<p>"Couldn't he have tied it up and boiled it in milk?" asked Cynthia, who +had once seen a saucer so treated, with good effect.</p> + +<p>"Why, Cynthia Marsh! Do you suppose Fairies like to have their wings +boiled? I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span> never! Of course they don't! Well, the poor Fairy did not +know what to do. He hopped away, for he could not fly, and pretty soon +he met an old woman.</p> + +<p>"'Goody,' said he, 'can you tell me what will mend a Fairy's broken +wing?'</p> + +<p>"'Is it your wing that is broken?' asked the old woman.</p> + +<p>"'Yes,' said the Fairy, speaking very sadly.</p> + +<p>"'There is only one thing,' said the old woman. 'If you can find a girl +who has never said a cross word in her life, and she will put the pieces +together, and hold them tight, and say, "<i>Ram shackla alla balla ba</i>," +three times, it will mend in a minute.'</p> + +<p>"So the Fairy thanked her, and went his way, dragging the poor wing +behind him. By and by he came to a wood, and there in front of a little +house was the prettiest girl he had ever seen. Her eyes were as blue as, +as blue as—as the edges of mother's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span> company saucers! And her hair, +which was the color of gold, curled down to her feet.</p> + +<p>"'A girl with hair and eyes like that couldn't say a cross word to save +her life,' thought the Fairy. He was just going to speak to her. She +couldn't see him, you know, because he was indivisible—"</p> + +<p>"'Invisible,' you mean," interrupted Reuben.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Reuben, don't stop her! See how the tallow is running down the side +of the candle! She'll never have time to finish," put in Cynthia, +anxiously.</p> + +<p>"I meant 'invisible,' of course," went on Eunice, speaking fast. "Well, +just then a woman came out of the house. It was the pretty girl's +mother.</p> + +<p>"'Estella,' she said, 'I want you to go for the cows, because your +father is sick.'</p> + +<p>"'Oh, bother!' said the pretty girl. 'I don't want to! I hate going for +cows. I wish father wouldn't go and get sick!' Just<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span> think of a girl's +speaking like that to her mother! And the Fairy sighed, for he thought, +'My wing won't get mended here,' and he hopped away.</p> + +<p>"By and by he came to a house in another wood, and there was another +girl. She wasn't pretty at all. She had short stubby brown hair like +Cynthia's, and a turn-up nose like me, and her freckles were as big as +Reuben's, but she looked nice and kind.</p> + +<p>"The Fairy didn't have much hope that a girl who was as homely as that +could mend wings. But while he was waiting, another woman came out. It +was the turned-up-nose girl's mother, and she said, 'I want you to go +for the cows to-night, because your father has broken his leg.'</p> + +<p>"And the girl smiled just as sweet, and she said, 'Yes, mother, I'll be +glad to go.'</p> + +<p>"Then the Fairy rejoiced, and he came forward and said—Oh, dear!"</p> + +<p>This was not what the Fairy said, but what<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span> Eunice said; for at that +moment the little candle went out.</p> + +<p>"Well, I am glad you got as far as you did," whispered Cynthia, "for I +guess the turned-up-nose girl could mend the wing. Now, Reuby, if you'll +go into your room I'll not be two minutes. And then you can light my +candle."</p> + +<p>In less than two minutes all was ready. This time there were two little +girls in bed, and Reuben sat alone at the foot, ready to listen.</p> + +<p>"My story," began Cynthia, "is about that girl in the window-pane in the +ell. Her name was Mercy Marsh, and she lived in this house."</p> + +<p>"Is it true?" asked Eunice.</p> + +<p>"No, it's made up, but I'm going to make believe that it's true. She +slept in the corn chamber,—it was a bedroom then,—and she had that +yellow painted bedstead of Hepzibah's.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span> +"There was a hiding-place under the floor of the room. It was made to +put things in when Indians came, or the English,—money and spoons, and +things like that.</p> + +<p>"One day when Mercy was spinning under the big elm, a man came running +down the road. He was a young man, and very handsome, and he had on a +sort of uniform.</p> + +<p>"'Hide me!' he cried. 'They will kill me if they catch me. Hide me, +quick!'</p> + +<p>"'Who will kill you?' asked Mercy.</p> + +<p>"Then the young man told her that he had accidentally shot a man who was +out hunting with him, and that the man's brothers, who were very bad +people, had sworn to have his blood.</p> + +<p>"Then Mercy took his hand, and led him quickly up to her room, and +lifted the cover of the hiding-place, and told him to get in. And he got +in, but first he said, 'Fair maiden, if I come out alive, I shall have +somewhat to say to thee.' And Mercy blushed."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span> +"What did he mean?" asked Eunice, innocently.</p> + +<p>"Oh, just love-making and nonsense!" put in Reuben. "Hurry up, Cynthia! +Come to the fighting. The candle's all but burned out."</p> + +<p>"There isn't going to be any fighting," returned Cynthia. "Well, Mercy +pulled the bedside carpet over the cover, and she set that red +candle-stand on one corner of it and a chair on the other corner, and +went back to her spinning. She had hardly begun before there was a +rustling in the bushes, and two men with guns in their hands came out.</p> + +<p>"'Which way did he go?' they shouted.</p> + +<p>"'Who?' she said, and she looked up so quietly that they never suspected +her.</p> + +<p>"'Has no one gone by?' they asked her.</p> + +<p>"'No one,' she said; and you know this wasn't a lie, for the young man +did not go by. He stopped!</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span> +"'There is the back door open,' she went on, 'and you are welcome to +search, if you desire it. My father is away, but he will be here soon.' +She said this because she feared the men.</p> + +<p>"So the men searched, but they found nothing, and Mercy's room looked so +neat and peaceful that they did not like to disturb it, and just looked +in at the door. And when they were gone, Mercy went up and raised the +cover, and the youth said that he loved her, and that if the Lord +willed, he—"</p> + +<p>Pop! The second candle went suddenly out.</p> + +<p>"It's a shame!" cried Reuben, dancing with vexation. "It seems as if the +blamed things knew when we most wanted them to last!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Reuben! don't say 'blamed.'"</p> + +<p>"I forgot. Well, blame-worthy, then. There's no harm in that."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span> +"We shall never know if the young man married Mercy," said little +Eunice, lamentably.</p> + +<p>"Oh, of course he did! That's the way stories always end."</p> + +<p>"Now, Reuben, hurry to bed, and when you are all ready, light your +candle, and if you speak loud we shall hear every word."</p> + +<p>This was Reuben's story: "Once there was a Ghost. He had committed a +murder, and that was the reason he had to go alone and fly about on cold +nights in a white shirt.</p> + +<p>"He used to look in at windows and see people sitting by fires, and envy +them. And he would moan and chatter his teeth, and then they would say +that he was the wind."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Reuben! is it going to be very awful?" demanded Cynthia, +apprehensively.</p> + +<p>"Not very. Only just enough to half-scare<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span> you to death! He would put +his hand out when girls stood by the door, and they would feel as if a +whole pitcher of cold water had been poured down their backs.</p> + +<p>"Once a boy came to the door. He was the son of the murdered man. The +Ghost was afraid of him. 'Thomas!' said the Ghost.</p> + +<p>"'Who speaks?' said the boy. He couldn't have heard if he hadn't been +the son of the murdered man.</p> + +<p>"'I'm the Ghost of your father's slayer,' said the Ghost. 'Tell me what +I can do to be forgiven.'</p> + +<p>"'I don't think you can be forgiven,' said the boy. Then the Ghost gave +such a dreadful groan that the boy felt sorry for him.</p> + +<p>"'I'll tell you, then,' he said. 'Go to my father's grave, and lay upon +it a perfectly white blackberry, and a perfectly black snowdrop,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span> and a +valuable secret, and a hair from the head of a really happy person, and +you shall be forgiven!'</p> + +<p>"So the Ghost set out to find these four things. He had to bleach the +blackberry and dye the snowdrop, and he got the hair from the head of a +little baby who happened to be born with hair and hadn't had time to be +unhappy, and the secret was about a goldmine that only the Ghost knew +about. But just as he was laying them on the grave, a cold hand +clutched—" The sentence ended in a three-fold shriek, for just at this +exciting juncture the last candle went out.</p> + +<p>"Children," said Mrs. Marsh, opening the door, "I'm afraid you've been +frightening yourselves with your stories. That was foolish. I am glad +there are no more little candles. Now, not another word to-night."</p> + +<p>She straightened the tossed coverlids, heard their prayers, and went +away. In a few<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span> minutes all that remained of the long-anticipated treat +were three little drops of tallow where three little candles had quite +burned out, three stories not quite told, and three children fast +asleep.</p> + +<p class="link"><a href="#contents">Back to contents</a></p> + +<hr /> + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span> +<a name="v" id="v"></a>UNCLE AND AUNT.</h2> + + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 102px;"> +<img src="images/dropu.jpg" width="102" height="100" alt="Ornate capital "U"" title="" /> +</div> + +<p class="noi"><span class="hidden">U</span>NCLE and Aunt were a very dear and rather queer old couple, who lived +in one of the small villages which dot the long indented coast of Long +Island Sound. It was four miles to the railway, so the village had not +waked up from its colonial sleep on the building of the line, as had +other villages nearer to its course, but remained the same shady, quiet +place, with never a steam-whistle nor a manufactory bell to break its +repose.</p> + +<p>Sparlings-Neck was the name of the place. No hotel had ever been built +there, so no summer visitors came to give it a fictitious air of life +for a few weeks of the year. The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span> century-old elms waved above the +gambrel roofs of the white, green-blinded houses, and saw the same names +on doorplates and knockers that had been there when the century began: +"Benjamin," "Wilson," "Kirkland," "Benson," "Reinike,"—there they all +were, with here and there the prefix of a distinguishing initial, as "J. +L. Benson," "Eleazar Wilson," or "Paul Reinike." Paul Reinike, fourth of +the name who had dwelt in that house, was the "Uncle" of this story.</p> + +<p>Uncle was tall and gaunt and gray, of the traditional New England type. +He had a shrewd, dry face, with wise little wrinkles about the corners +of the eyes, and just a twinkle of fun and a quiet kindliness in the +lines of the mouth. People said the squire was a master-hand at a +bargain. And so he was; but if he got the uttermost penny out of all +legitimate business transactions, he was always ready to give that +penny, and many more, whenever deserving want knocked at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span> his door, or a +good work to be done showed itself distinctly as needing help.</p> + +<p>Aunt, too, was a New Englander, but of a slightly different type. She +was the squire's cousin before she became his wife; and she had the +family traits, but with a difference. She was spare, but she was also +very small, and had a distinct air of authority which made her like a +fairy godmother. She was very quiet and comfortable in her ways, but she +was full of "faculty,"—that invaluable endowment which covers such a +multitude of capacities. Nobody's bread or pies were equal to Aunt's. +Her preserves never fermented; her cranberry always jellied; her +sponge-cake rose to heights unattained by her neighbors', and stayed +there, instead of ignominiously "flopping" when removed from the oven, +like the sponge-cake of inferior housekeepers. Everything in the old +home moved like clock-work. Meals were ready to a minute; the mahogany +furniture glittered like dark-red<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span> glass; the tall clock in the entry +was never a tick out of the way; and yet Aunt never appeared to be +particularly busy. To one not conversant with her methods, she gave the +impression of being generally at leisure, sitting in her rocking-chair +in the "keeping-room," hemming cap-strings, and reading Emerson, for +Aunt liked to keep up with the thought of the day.</p> + +<p>Hesse declared that either she sat up and did things after the rest of +the family had gone to bed, or else that she kept a Brownie to work for +her; but Hesse was a saucy child, and Aunt only smiled indulgently at +these sarcasms.</p> + +<p>Hesse was the only young thing in the shabby old home; for, though it +held many handsome things, it was shabby. Even the cat was a sober +matron. The old white mare had seen almost half as many years as her +master. The very rats and mice looked gray and bearded when you caught a +glimpse of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span> them. But Hesse was youth incarnate, and as refreshing in +the midst of the elderly stillness which surrounded her as a frolicsome +puff of wind, or a dancing ray of sunshine. She had come to live with +Uncle and Aunt when she was ten years old; she was now nearly eighteen, +and she loved the quaint house and its quainter occupants with her whole +heart.</p> + +<p>Hesse's odd name, which had been her mother's, her grandmother's, and +her great-grandmother's before her, was originally borrowed from that of +the old German town whence the first Reinike had emigrated to America. +She had not spent quite all of the time at Sparlings-Neck since her +mother died. There had been two years at boarding-school, broken by long +vacations, and once she had made a visit in New York to her mother's +cousin, Mrs. De Lancey, who considered herself a sort of joint guardian +over Hesse, and was apt to send a frock or a hat,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span> now and then, as the +fashions changed; that "the child might not look exactly like Noah, and +Mrs. Noah, and the rest of the people in the ark," she told her +daughter. This visit to New York had taken place when Hesse was about +fifteen; now she was to make another. And, just as this story opens, she +and Aunt were talking over her wardrobe for the occasion.</p> + +<p><a name="shall" id="shall"></a>"I shall give you this China-crape shawl," said Aunt, decisively.</p> + +<p>Hesse looked admiringly, but a little doubtfully, at the soft, clinging +fabric, rich with masses of yellow-white embroidery.</p> + +<p>"I am afraid girls don't wear shawls now," she ventured to say.</p> + +<p>"My dear," said Aunt, "a handsome thing is always handsome; never mind +if it is not the last novelty, put it on, all the same. The Reinikes can +wear what they like, I hope! They certainly know better what is proper +than these oil-and-shoddy people in New York that we read about in the +newspapers. Now, here is my India shawl,"—unpinning a towel, and +shaking out a quantity of dried rose-leaves. "I <i>lend</i> you this; not +give it, you understand."</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/gs02.jpg" width="400" height="602" alt="" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"I shall give you this China-crape shawl," said aunt, +decisively.—<span class="smcap"><a href="#shall">Page 88.</a></span></span> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span> +"Thank you, Aunt, dear." Hesse was secretly wondering what Cousin Julia +and the girls would say to the India shawl.</p> + +<p>"You must have a pelisse, of some sort," continued her aunt; "but +perhaps your Cousin De Lancey can see to that. Though I <i>might</i> have +Miss Lewis for a day, and cut over that handsome camlet of mine. It's +been lying there in camphor for fifteen years, of no use to anybody."</p> + +<p>"Oh, but that would be a pity!" cried Hesse, with innocent wiliness. +"The girls are all wearing little short jackets now, trimmed with fur, +or something like that; it would be a pity to cut up that great cloak to +make a little bit of a wrap for me."</p> + +<p>"Fur?" said her aunt, catching at the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span> word; "the very thing! How will +this do?" dragging out of the camphor-chest an enormous cape, which +seemed made of tortoise-shell cats, so yellow and brown and mottled was +it. "Won't this do for a trimming, or would you rather have it as it +is?"</p> + +<p>"I shall have to ask Cousin Julia," replied Hesse. "Oh, Aunt, dear, +don't give me any more! You really mustn't! You are robbing yourself of +everything!" For Aunt was pulling out yards of yellow lace, lengths of +sash ribbon of faded colors and wonderful thickness, strange, +old-fashioned trinkets.</p> + +<p>"And here's your grandmother's wedding-gown—and mine!" she said; "you +had better take them both. I have little occasion for dress here, and I +like you to have them, Hesse. Say no more about it, my dear."</p> + +<p>There was never any gainsaying Aunt, so Hesse departed for New York with +her trunk full of antiquated finery, sage-green and "pale-colored" silks +that would almost stand alone;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span> Mechlin lace, the color of a spring +buttercup; hair rings set with pearls, and brooches such as no one sees, +nowadays, outside of a curiosity shop. Great was the amusement which the +unpacking caused in Madison Avenue.</p> + +<p>"Yet the things are really handsome," said Mrs. De Lancey, surveying the +fur cape critically. "This fur is queer and old-timey, but it will make +quite an effective trimming. As for this crape shawl, I have an idea: +you shall have an overdress made of it, Hesse. It will be lovely with a +silk slip. You may laugh, Pauline, but you will wish you had one like it +when you see Hesse in hers. It only needs a little taste in adapting, +and fortunately these quaint old things are just coming into fashion."</p> + +<p>Pauline, a pretty girl,—modern to her fingertips—held up a square +brooch, on which, under pink glass, shone a complication of initials in +gold, the whole set in a narrow twisted rim of pearls and garnets, and +asked:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span> +"How do you propose to 'adapt' this, Mamma?"</p> + +<p>"Oh," cried Hesse, "I wouldn't have that 'adapted' for the world! It +must stay just as it is. It belonged to my grandmother, and it has a +love-story connected with it."</p> + +<p>"A love-story! Oh, tell it to us!" said Grace, the second of the De +Lancey girls.</p> + +<p>"Why," explained Hesse; "you see, my grandmother was once engaged to a +man named John Sherwood. He was a 'beautiful young man,' Aunt says; but +very soon after they were engaged, he fell ill with consumption, and had +to go to Madeira. He gave Grandmamma that pin before he sailed. See, +there are his initials, 'J. S.,' and hers, 'H. L. R.,' for Hesse Lee +Reinike, you know. He gave her a copy of 'Thomas à Kempis' besides, with +'The Lord do so to me, and more also, if aught but death part thee and +me,' written on the title-page. I have the book, too; Uncle gave it to +me for my own."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span> +"And did <i>he</i> ever come back?" asked Pauline.</p> + +<p>"No," answered Hesse. "He died in Madeira, and was buried there; and +quite a long time afterward, Grandmamma married my grandfather. I'm so +fond of that queer old brooch, I like to wear it sometimes."</p> + +<p>"How <i>does</i> it look?" demanded Pauline.</p> + +<p>"You shall see for yourself, for I'll wear it to-night," said Hesse.</p> + +<p>And when Hesse came down to dinner with the quaint ornament shining +against her white neck on a bit of black velvet ribbon, even Pauline +owned that the effect was not bad,—queer, of course, and unlike other +people's things, but certainly not bad.</p> + +<p>Mrs. De Lancey had a quick eye for character, and she noted with +satisfaction that her young cousin was neither vexed at, nor affected +by, her cousins' criticisms on her outfit. Hesse saw for herself that +her things were unusual, and not in the prevailing style, but<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span> she knew +them to be handsome of their kind, and she loved them as a part of her +old home. There was, too, in her blood a little of the family pride +which had made Aunt say, "The Reinikes know what is proper, I hope." So +she wore her odd fur and made-over silks and the old laces with no sense +of being ill-dressed, and that very fact "carried it off," and made her +seem well dressed. Cousin Julia saw that her wardrobe was sufficiently +modernized not to look absurd, or attract too much attention, and there +was something in Hesse's face and figure which suited the character of +her clothes. People took notice of this or that, now and again,—said it +was pretty, and where could they get such a thing?—and, flattery of +flatteries, some of the girls copied her effects!</p> + +<p>"Estelle Morgan says, if you don't mind, she means to have a ball-dress +exactly like that blue one of yours," Pauline told her one day.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span> +"Oh, how funny! Aunt's wedding-gown made up with surah!" cried Hesse. +"Do you remember how you laughed at the idea, Polly, and said it would +be horrid?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and I did think so," said Polly; "but somehow it looks very nice +on you. When it is hanging up in the closet, I don't care much for it."</p> + +<p>"Well, luckily, no one need look at it when it is hanging up in the +closet," retorted Hesse, laughing.</p> + +<p>Her freshness, her sweet temper, and bright capacity for enjoyment had +speedily made Hesse a success among the young people of her cousins' +set. Girls liked her, and ran after her as a social favorite; and she +had flowers and german favors and flatteries enough to spoil her, had +she been spoilable. But she kept a steady head through all these +distractions, and never forgot, however busy she might be, to send off +the long journal-letter, which was the chief weekly event to Uncle and +Aunt.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span> +Three months had been the time fixed for Hesse's stay in New York, but, +without her knowledge, Mrs. De Lancey had written to beg for a little +extension. Gayeties thickened as Lent drew near, and there was one +special fancy dress ball, at Mrs. Shuttleworth's, about which Hesse had +heard a great deal, and which she had secretly regretted to lose. She +was, therefore, greatly delighted at a letter from Aunt, giving her +leave to stay a fortnight longer.</p> + +<p>"Uncle will come for you on Shrove-Tuesday," wrote her Aunt. "He has +some business to attend to, so he will stay over till Thursday, and you +can take your pleasure till the last possible moment."</p> + +<p>"How lovely!" cried Hesse. "How good of you to write, Cousin Julia, and +I <i>am</i> so pleased to go to Mrs. Shuttleworth's ball!"</p> + +<p>"What will you wear?" asked Pauline.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I haven't thought of that, yet. I must invent something, for I +don't wish to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span> buy another dress, I have had so many things already."</p> + +<p>"Now, Hesse, you can't invent anything. It's impossible to make a fancy +dress out of the ragbag," said Pauline, whose ideas were all of an +expensive kind.</p> + +<p>"We shall see," said Hesse. "I think I shall keep my costume as a +surprise,—except from you, Cousin Julia. I shall want you to help me, +but none of the others shall know anything about it till I come +down-stairs."</p> + +<p>This was a politic move on the part of Hesse. She was resolved to spend +no money, for she knew that her winter had cost more than Uncle had +expected, and more than it might be convenient for him to spare; yet she +wished to avert discussion and remonstrance, and at the same time to +prevent Mrs. De Lancey from giving her a new dress, which was very often +that lady's easy way of helping Hesse out of her toilet difficulties. So +a little seamstress was procured, and Cousin<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span> Julia taken into counsel. +Hesse kept her door carefully locked for a day or two; and when, on the +evening of the party, she came down attired as "My great-grandmother," +in a short-waisted, straight-skirted white satin; with a big +ante-revolutionary hat tied under her dimpled chin; a fichu of mull, +embroidered in colored silks, knotted across her breast; long white silk +mittens, and a reticule of pearl beads hanging from her girdle,—even +Pauline could find no fault. The costume was as becoming as it was +queer; and all the girls told Hesse that she had never looked so well in +her life.</p> + +<p>Eight or ten particular friends of Pauline and Grace had arranged to +meet at the De Lanceys', and all start together for the ball. The room +was quite full of gay figures as "My great-grandmother" came down; it +was one of those little moments of triumph which girls prize. The +door-bell rang as she slowly turned before the throng, to exhibit the +back<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span> of the wonderful gored and plaited skirt. There was a little +colloquy in the hall, the butler opened the door, and in walked a figure +which looked singularly out of place among the pretty, fantastic, +girlish forms,—a tall, spare, elderly figure, in a coat of +old-fashioned cut. A carpet-bag was in his hand. He was no other than +Uncle, come a day before he was expected.</p> + +<p>His entrance made a little pause.</p> + +<p>"What an extraordinary-looking person!" whispered Maud Ashurst to +Pauline, who colored, hesitated, and did not, for a moment, know what to +do. Hesse, standing with her back to the door, had seen nothing; but, +struck by the silence, she turned. A meaner nature than hers might have +shared Pauline's momentary embarrassment, but there was not a mean fibre +in the whole of Hesse's frank, generous being.</p> + +<p>"Uncle! dear Uncle!" she cried; and, running forward, she threw her arms +around<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span> the lean old neck, and gave him half a dozen of her warmest +kisses.</p> + +<p>"It is my uncle," she explained to the others. "We didn't expect him +till to-morrow; and isn't it too delightful that he should come in time +to see us all in our dresses!"</p> + +<p>Then she drew him this way and that, introducing him to all her +particular friends, chattering, dimpling, laughing with such evident +enjoyment, such an assured sense that it was the pleasantest thing +possible to have her uncle there, that every one else began to share it. +The other girls, who, with a little encouragement, a little reserve and +annoyed embarrassment on the part of Hesse, would have voted Uncle "a +countrified old quiz," and, while keeping up the outward forms of +civility, would have despised him in their hearts, infected by Hesse's +sweet happiness, began to talk to him with the wish to please, and +presently to discover how pleasant his face was, and how shrewd and +droll his ideas<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span> and comments; and it ended by all pronouncing him an +"old dear,"—so true it is that genuine and unaffected love and respect +carry weight with them for all the rest of the world.</p> + +<p>Uncle was immensely amused by the costumes. He recalled the fancy balls +of his youth, and gave the party some ideas on dress which had never +occurred to any of them before. He could not at all understand the +principle of selection on which the different girls had chosen their +various characters.</p> + +<p>"That gypsy queen looked as if she ought to be teaching a +Sunday-school," he told Hesse afterward. "Little Red Riding Hood was too +big for her wolf; and as for that scampish little nun of yours, I don't +believe the stoutest convent ever built could hold her in for half a +day."</p> + +<p>"Come with us to Mrs. Shuttleworth's. It will be a pretty scene, and +something for you to tell Cousin Marianne about when you go back," urged +Mrs. De Lancey.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span> +"Oh, do, do!" chimed in Hesse. "It will be twice as much fun if you are +there, Uncle!"</p> + +<p>But Uncle was tired by his journey, and would not consent; and I am +afraid that Pauline and Grace were a little relieved by his decision. +False shame and the fear of "people" are powerful influences.</p> + +<p>Three days later, Hesse's long, delightful visit ended, and she was +speeding home under Uncle's care.</p> + +<p>"You must write and invite some of those fine young folk to come up to +see you in June," he told her.</p> + +<p>"That will be delightful," said Hesse. But when she came to think about +it later, she was not so sure about its being delightful.</p> + +<p>There is nothing like a long absence from home to open one's eyes to the +real aspect of familiar things. The Sparlings-Neck house looked wofully +plain and old-fashioned, even to Hesse, when contrasted with the +elegance<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span> of Madison Avenue; how much more so, she reflected, would it +look to the girls!</p> + +<p>She thought of Uncle's after-dinner pipe; of the queer little chamber, +opening from the dining-room, where he and Aunt chose to sleep; of the +green-painted woodwork of the spare bedrooms, and the blue paper-shades, +tied up with a cord, which Aunt clung to because they were in fashion +when she was a girl; and for a few foolish moments she felt that she +would rather not have her friends come at all, than have them come to +see all this, and perhaps make fun of it. Only for a few moments; then +her more generous nature asserted itself with a bound.</p> + +<p>"How mean of me to even think of such a thing!" she told herself, +indignantly,—"to feel ashamed to have people know what my own home is +like, and Uncle and Aunt, who are so good to me! Hesse Reinike, I should +like to hire some one to give you a good whipping! The girls <i>shall</i> +come, and I'll<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span> make the old house look just as sweet as I can, and they +shall like it, and have a beautiful time from the moment they come till +they go away, if I can possibly give it to them."</p> + +<p>To punish herself for what she considered an unworthy feeling, she +resolved not to ask Aunt to let her change the blue paper-shades for +white curtains, but to have everything exactly as it usually was. But +Aunt had her own ideas and her pride of housekeeping to consider. As the +time of the visit drew near, laundering and bleaching seemed to be +constantly going on, and Jane, the old housemaid, was kept busy tacking +dimity valances and fringed hangings on the substantial four-post +bedsteads, and arranging fresh muslin covers over the toilet-tables. +Treasures unknown to Hesse were drawn out of their receptacles,—bits of +old embroidery, tamboured tablecloths and "crazy quilts," vases and +bow-pots of pretty old china for the bureaus<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span> and chimney-pieces. Hesse +took a long drive to the woods, and brought back great masses of ferns, +pink azalea, and wild laurel. All the neighbors' gardens were laid under +contribution. When all was in order, with ginger-jars full of cool white +daisies and golden buttercups standing on the shining mahogany tables, +bunches of blue lupines on the mantel, the looking-glasses wreathed with +traveller's joy, a great bowl full of early roses and quantities of +lilies-of-the-valley, the old house looked cosey enough and smelt sweet +enough to satisfy the most fastidious taste.</p> + +<p>Hesse drove over with Uncle to the station to meet her guests. They took +the big carryall, which, with squeezing, would hold seven; and a wagon +followed for the luggage. There were five girls coming; for, besides +Pauline and Grace, Hesse had invited Georgie Berrian, Maud Ashurst, and +Ella Waring, who were the three special favorites among her New York +friends.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span> +The five flocked out of the train, looking so dainty and stylish that +they made the old carryall seem shabbier than ever by contrast. Maud +Ashurst cast one surprised look at it and at the old white mare,—she +had never seen just such a carriage before; but the quality of the +equipage was soon forgotten, as Uncle twitched the reins, and they +started down the long lane-like road which led to Sparlings-Neck and was +Hesse's particular delight.</p> + +<p>The station and the dusty railroad were forgotten almost +immediately,—lost in the sense of complete country freshness. On either +hand rose tangled banks of laurel and barberries, sweet-ferns and +budding grapevines, overarched by tall trees, and sending out delicious +odors; while mingling with and blending all came, borne on a shoreward +wind, the strong salt fragrance of the sea.</p> + +<p>"What is it? What can it be? I never<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span> smelt anything like it!" cried the +girls from the city.</p> + +<p>"Now, girls," cried Hesse, turning her bright face around from the +driver's seat, "this is real, absolute country, you know,—none of the +make-believes which you get at Newport or up the Hudson. Everything we +have is just as queer and old-fashioned as it can be. You won't be asked +to a single party while you are here, and there isn't the ghost of a +young man in the neighborhood. Well, yes, there may be a ghost, but +there is no young man. You must just make up your minds, all of you, to +a dull time, and then you'll find that it's lovely."</p> + +<p>"It's sure to be lovely wherever you are, you dear thing!" declared Ella +Waring, with a little rapturous squeeze.</p> + +<p>I fancy that, just at first, the city girls did think the place very +queer. None of them had ever seen just such an old house as the +Reinikes' before. The white wainscots with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span> their toothed mouldings +matched by the cornices above, the droll little cupboards in the walls, +the fire-boards pasted with gay pictures, the queer closets and +clothes-presses occurring just where no one would naturally have looked +for them, and having, each and all, an odd shut-up odor, as of by-gone +days,—all seemed very strange to them. But the flowers and the green +elms and Hesse's warm welcome were delightful; so were Aunt's waffles +and wonderful tarts, the strawberries smothered in country cream, and +the cove oysters and clams which came in, deliciously stewed, for tea; +and they soon pronounced the visit "a lark," and Sparlings-Neck a +paradise.</p> + +<p>There were long drives in the woods, picnics in the pine groves, +bathing-parties on the beach, morning sittings under the trees with an +interesting book; and when a northeaster came, and brought with it what +seemed a brief return of winter, there was a crackling fire, a +candy-pull, and a charming evening<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span> spent in sitting on the floor +telling ghost-stories, with the room only lighted by the fitfully +blazing wood, and with cold creeps running down their backs! Altogether, +the fortnight was a complete success, and every one saw its end with +reluctance.</p> + +<p>"I wish we were going to stay all summer!" said Georgie Berrian. +"Newport will seem stiff and tiresome after this."</p> + +<p>"I never had so good a time,—never!" declared Ella. "And, Hesse, I do +think your aunt and uncle are the dearest old people I ever saw!" That +pleased Hesse most of all. But what pleased her still more was when, +after the guests were gone, and the house restored to its old order, and +the regular home life begun again, Uncle put his arm around her, and +gave her a kiss,—not a bedtime kiss, or one called for by any special +occasion, but an extra kiss, all of his own accord.</p> + +<p>"A dear child," he said; "not a bit ashamed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span> of the old folks, was she? +I liked that, Hesse."</p> + +<p>"Ashamed of you and Aunt? I should think not!" answered Hesse, with a +flush.</p> + +<p>Uncle gave a dry little chuckle.</p> + +<p>"Well, well," he said, "some girls would have been; you weren't,—that's +all the difference. You're a good child, Hesse."</p> + +<p class="link"><a href="#contents">Back to contents</a></p> + +<hr /> + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span> +<a name="vi" id="vi"></a>THE CORN-BALL MONEY, AND WHAT BECAME OF IT.</h2> + + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 92px;"> +<img src="images/dropd.jpg" width="92" height="100" alt="Ornate capital "D"" title="" /> +</div> + +<p class="noi"><span class="hidden">D</span>OTTY and Dimple were two little sisters, who looked so much alike that +most people took them for twins. They both had round faces, blue eyes, +straight brown hair, cut short in the neck, and cheeks as firm and pink +as fall apples; and, though Dotty was eleven months the oldest, Dimple +was the taller by half an inch, so that altogether it was very +confusing.</p> + +<p>I don't believe any twins could love each other better than did these +little girls. Nobody ever heard them utter a quarrelsome word from the +time they waked in the morning, and began to chatter and giggle in bed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span> +like two little squirrels, to the moment when they fell asleep at night, +with arms tight clasped round each other's necks. They liked the same +things, did the same things, and played together all day long without +being tired. Their father's farm was two miles from the nearest +neighbor, and three from the schoolhouse; so they didn't go to school, +and no little boys and girls ever came to see them.</p> + +<p>Should you think it would be lonely to live so? Dotty and Dimple didn't. +They had each other for playmates, and all outdoors to play in, and that +was enough.</p> + +<p>The farm was a wild, beautiful spot. A river ran round two sides of it; +and quite near the house it "met with an accident," as Dotty said; that +is, it tumbled over some high rocks in a waterfall, and then, picking +itself up, took another jump, and landed, all white and foaming, in a +deep wooded glen.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span> +The water where it fell was dazzling with rainbows, like soap-bubbles; +and the pool at the bottom had the color of a green emerald, only that +all over the top little flakes of sparkling spray swam and glittered in +the sun. Altogether it was a wonderful place, and the children were +never tired of watching the cascade or hearing the rush and roar of its +leap.</p> + +<p>All summer long city people, boarding in the village, six miles off, +would drive over to see the fall. This was very interesting, indeed! +Carryalls and big wagons would stop at the gate, and ladies get out, +with pretty round hats and parasols; and gentlemen, carrying canes; and +dear little children, in flounced and braided frocks. And they would all +come trooping up close by the house, on their way to see the view. +Sometimes, but not often, one would stop to get a drink of water or ask +the way. Dotty and Dimple liked very much to have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span> them come. They would +hide, and peep out at the strangers, and make up all kinds of stories +about them; but they were too shy to come forward or let themselves be +seen. So the people from the city never guessed what bright eyes were +looking at them from behind the door or on the other side of the bushes. +But all the same, it was great fun for the children to have them come, +and they were always pleased when wheels were heard and wagons drove up +to the gate.</p> + +<p>It was early last summer that a droll idea popped into Dotty's head. It +all came from a man who, walking past, and stopping to see the fall, sat +down a while to rest, and said to the farmer:—</p> + +<p>"I should think you'd charge people something for looking at that ere +place, stranger."</p> + +<p>"No," replied Dotty's father. "I don't calculate on asking folks nothing +for the use of their eyes."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span> +"Well," said the man, getting up to go, "you might as well. It's what +folks is doing all over the country. If 't was mine, I'd fix up a lunch +or something, and fetch 'em that way."</p> + +<p>But the farmer only laughed. That night, when Dotty and Dimple were in +bed, they began to whisper to each other about the man.</p> + +<p>"Wasn't it funny," giggled Dimple, "his telling Pa to fix a lunch?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Dotty. "But I'll tell you what, Dimple! when he said that, I +had such a nice plan come into my head. You know you and me can make +real nice corn-balls."</p> + +<p>"'Course we can."</p> + +<p>"Well, let's get Pa, or else Zach, to make us a little table,—out of +boards, you know; and let's put it on the bank, close to the place where +folks go to see the fall; and every day let's pop a lot of corn, and +make some balls, and set them on the table for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span> the folks to eat. Don't +you think that would be nice?"</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid Mother wouldn't let us have so much molasses," said the +practical Dimple.</p> + +<p>"Oh, but don't you see I mean to have the folks <i>pay</i> for 'em! We'll put +a paper on the table, with 'two cents apiece,' or something like that, +on it. And then they'll put the money on the table, and when they're +gone away we'll go and fetch it. Won't that be fun? Perhaps there'd be a +great, great deal,—most as much as a dollar!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no," cried Dimple, "not so much as <i>that</i>! But we might get a +greenback. How much is a greenback, Dot?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't know," replied Dotty. "A good deal, I know, but I guess it +isn't so much as a dollar."</p> + +<p>The little sisters could hardly sleep that night, they were so excited +over their plan. Next morning they were up with the birds; and before +breakfast Mother, Father, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span> Zach, the hired man, had heard all about +the wonderful scheme.</p> + +<p>Mother said she didn't mind letting them try; and Zach, who was very +fond of the children, promised to make the table the very first thing +after the big field was ploughed. And so he did; and a very nice table +it was, with four legs and a good stout top. Dotty and Dimple laughed +with pleasure when they saw it.</p> + +<p>Zach set it on the bank just at the place where the people stood to look +at the view; and he drove a stake at each corner; and found some old +sheeting, and made a sort of tent over the table, so that the sun should +not shine under and melt the corn-balls. When it was all arranged, and +the table set out, with the corn-balls on one plate and maple-sugar +cakes on another, it looked very tempting, and the children were +extremely proud of it. Dotty cut a sheet of paper, and printed upon it +the following notice:</p> + +<blockquote> +<p class="center"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span> + "Corn bals 2 sents apece.<br /> + Sugar 1 sent apece.<br /> +Plese help yure selfs and put the munney<br /> + on the table."</p> +</blockquote> + +<p>This was pinned to the tent, right over the table.</p> + +<p>The first day four people came to visit the waterfall; and when the +children ran down to look, after they had driven away, half the +provisions were gone, and there on the table lay four shining five-cent +pieces! The next day was not so good; they only made four cents. And so +it went on all summer. Some days a good many people would come, and a +good many pennies be left on the table; and other days nobody would +come, and the wasps would eat the maple-sugar, and fly away without +paying anything at all. But little by little the tin box in Mother's +drawer got heavier and heavier, until at last, early in October, Dotty +declared that she was tired of making corn-balls, and she guessed the +city-folks<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span> were all gone home; and now wouldn't Mother please to count +the money, and see how much they had got?</p> + +<p>So Mother emptied the tin box into her lap, with a great jingle of +pennies and rustling of fractional currency. And how much do you think +there was? Three dollars and seventy-eight cents! The seventy-eight +cents Mother said would just about pay for the molasses; so there were +three dollars all their own,—for Dotty and Dimple to spend as they +liked!</p> + +<p>You should have seen them dance about the kitchen! Three dollars! Why, +it was a fortune! It would buy everything in the world! They had fifty +plans, at least, for spending it; and sat up so late talking them over, +and had such red cheeks and excited eyes, that Mother said she was +afraid they wouldn't sleep one wink all night. But, bless you! they did, +and were as bright as buttons in the morning.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span> +For a week there was nothing talked about but the wonderful three +dollars. And then one evening Father, who had been over to the village, +came home with a very grave face, and, drawing a newspaper from his +pocket, read them all about the great fire in Chicago.</p> + +<p>He read how the flames, spreading like wind, swept from one house to +another, and how people had just time to run out of their homes, leaving +everything to burn; how women, with babies in their arms, and frightened +children crouched all that dreadful night out on the cold, wet prairie, +without food or clothes or shelter; how little boys and girls ran +through the burning streets, crying for the parents whom they could not +find; how everybody had lost everything.</p> + +<p>"Oh," said Dimple, almost crying, as she listened to the piteous story, +"how dreadful those little girls must feel! And I suppose all their +dollies are burned up too. I wouldn't<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span> have Nancy burned in a fire for +anything!" and, picking up an old doll, of whom she was very fond, she +hugged her with unspeakable affection.</p> + +<p>That night there was another long, mysterious confabulation in the +children's bed; and, coming down in the morning, hand in hand, Dotty and +Dimple announced that they had made up their minds what to do with the +corn-ball money.</p> + +<p>"We're going to send it to the Sicago," said Dimple, "to those poor +little girls whose dollies are all burned up!"</p> + +<p>"How will you send it?" asked their Mother.</p> + +<p>"In a letter," said Dotty. "And please, Pa, write on the outside: 'From +Dotty and Dimple, to buy some dollies for the little girls whose dollies +were burned up in the fire.'"</p> + +<p>So their father put the money into an envelope, and wrote on the outside +just what Dotty said. And, when he had got through,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span> he put his hands in +his pockets and walked out of the room. The children wondered what made +his face so red, and when they turned round, there was Mother with tears +in her eyes.</p> + +<p>"Why, what's the matter?" cried they. But their Mother only put her arms +round them and kissed them very hard. And she whispered to herself: "Of +such is the Kingdom of Heaven."</p> + +<p class="link"><a href="#contents">Back to contents</a></p> + +<hr /> + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span> +<a name="vii" id="vii"></a>THE PRIZE GIRL OF THE HARNESSING CLASS.</h2> + + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 94px;"> +<img src="images/dropi.jpg" width="94" height="100" alt="Ornate capital "I"" title="" /> +</div> + +<p class="noi"><span class="hidden">I</span>T was the day before Thanksgiving, but the warmth of a late Indian +summer lay over the world, and tempered the autumn chill into mildness +more like early October than late November. Elsie Thayer, driving her +village cart rapidly through the "Long Woods," caught herself vaguely +wondering why the grass was not greener, and what should set the leaves +to tumbling off the trees in such an unsummer-like fashion,—then smiled +at herself for being so forgetful.</p> + +<p>The cart was packed full; for, besides Elsie herself, it held a bag of +sweet potatoes, a sizable bundle or two, and a large market-basket,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span> +from which protruded the unmistakable legs of a turkey, not to mention a +choice smaller basket covered with a napkin. All these were going to the +little farmstead in which dwelt Mrs. Ann Sparrow, Elsie's nurse in +childhood, and the most faithful and kindly of friends ever since. Elsie +always made sure that "Nursey" had a good Thanksgiving dinner, and +generally carried it herself.</p> + +<p>The day was so delightful that it seemed almost a pity that the pony +should trot so fast. One would willingly have gone slowly, tasting drop +by drop, as it were, the lovely sunshine filtering through the yellow +beech boughs, the unexpected warmth, and the balmy spice of the air, +which had in it a tinge of smoky haze. But the day before Thanksgiving +is sure to be a busy one with New England folk; Elsie had other tasks +awaiting her, and she knew that Nursey would not be content with a short +visit.</p> + +<p>"Hurry up, little Jack!" she said. "You<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span> shall have a long rest +presently, if you are a good boy, and some nice fresh grass,—if I can +find any; anyway, a little drink of water. So make haste."</p> + +<p>Jack made haste. The yellow wheels of the cart spun in and out of the +shadow like circles of gleaming sun. When the two miles were achieved, +and the little clearing came into view, Elsie slackened her pace: she +wanted to take Nursey by surprise. Driving straight to a small open +shed, she deftly unharnessed the pony, tied him with a liberal allowance +of halter, hung up the harness, and wheeled the cart away from his +heels, all with the ease which is born of practice. She then gathered a +lapful of brown but still nourishing grasses for Jack, and was about to +lift the parcels from the wagon when she was espied by Mrs. Sparrow.</p> + +<p>Out she came, hurrying and flushed with pleasure,—the dearest old +woman, with pink, wrinkled cheeks like a perfectly baked<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span> apple, and a +voice which still retained its pleasant English tones, after sixty long +years in America.</p> + +<p>"Well, Missy, dear, so it's you. I made sure you'd come, and had been +watching all the morning; but somehow I missed you when you drove up, +and it was just by haccident like, that I looked out of window and see +you in the shed. You're looking well, Missy. That school hasn't hurt you +a bit. Just the same nice color in your cheeks as ever. I was that +troubled when I heard you wa'n't coming home last summer, for I thought +maybe you was ill; but your mother she said 'twas all right, and just +for your pleasure, and I see it was so. Why,"—her voice changing to +consternation,—"if you haven't unharnessed the horse! Now, Missy, how +came you to do that? You forgot there wasn't no one about but me. Who's +to put him in for you, I wonder?"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span> +"Oh, I don't want any one. I can harness the pony myself."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Missy, dear, you mustn't do that! I couldn't let you. It's real +hard to harness a horse. You'd make some mistake, and then there'd be a +haccident."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense, Nursey! I've harnessed Jack once this morning already; it's +just as easy to do it twice. I'm a member of a Harnessing Class, I'd +have you to know; and, what's more, I took the prize!"</p> + +<p>"Now, Missy, dear, whatever do you mean by that? Young ladies learn to +harness! I never heard of such a thing in my life! In my young time, in +England, they learned globes and langwidges, and, it might be, to paint +in oils and such, and make nice things in chenille."</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you all about it, but first let us carry these things up to +the house. Here's your Thanksgiving turkey, Nursey,—with Mother's love. +Papa sent you the sweet<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span> potatoes and the cranberries; and the oranges +and figs and the pumpkin pie are from me. I made the pie myself. That's +another of the useful things that I learned to do at my school."</p> + +<p>"The master is very kind, Missy; and so is your mother; and I'm thankful +to you all. But that's a queer school of yours, it seems to me. For my +part, I never heard of young ladies learning such things as cooking and +harnessing at boarding-schools."</p> + +<p>"Oh, we learn arts and languages, too,—that part of our education isn't +neglected. Now, Nursey, we'll put these things in your buttery, and you +shall give me a glass of nice cold milk; and while I drink it I'll tell +you about Rosemary Hall,—that's the name of the school, you know; and +it's the dearest, nicest place you can think of."</p> + +<p>"Very likely, Miss Elsie," in an unconvinced tone; "but still I don't +see any reason why they should set you to making pies and harnessing +horses."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span> +"Oh, that's just at odd times, by way of fun and pleasure; it isn't +lessons, you know. You see, Mrs. Thanet—that's a rich lady who lives +close by, and is a sort of fairy godmother to us girls—has a great +notion about practical education. It was she who got up the Harnessing +Class and the Model Kitchen. It's the dearest little place you ever saw, +Nursey, with a <i>perfect</i> stove, and shelves, and hooks for everything; +and such bright tins, and the prettiest of old-fashioned crockery! It's +just like a picture. We girls were always squabbling over whose turn +should come first. You can't think how much I learned there, Nursey! I +learned to make a pie, and clear out a grate, and scour saucepans, and," +counting on her fingers, "to make bread, rolls, minute-biscuit, +coffee,—delicious coffee, Nursey!—good soup, creamed oysters, and +pumpkin-pies and apple-pies! Just wait, and you shall see!"</p> + +<p>She jumped up, ran into the buttery, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span> soon returned, carrying a +triangle of pie on a plate.</p> + +<p>"It isn't Thanksgiving yet, I know; but there is no law against eating +pumpkin-pie the day before, so please, Nursey, taste this and see if you +don't call it good. Papa says it makes him think of his mother's pies, +when he was a little boy."</p> + +<p>"Indeed, and it is good, Missy, dear; and I won't deny but cooking may +be well for you to know; but for that other—the harnessing class, as +you call it,—I don't see the sense of that at all, Missy."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Nursey, indeed there is a great deal of sense in it. Mrs. Thanet +says it might easily happen, in the country especially,—if any one was +hurt or taken very ill, you know,—that life might depend upon a girl's +knowing how to harness. She had a man teach us, and we practised and +practised, and at the end of the term there was an exhibition, with a +prize for the girl who could harness and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span> unharness quickest, and I won +it! See, here it is!"</p> + +<p>She held out a slim brown hand, and displayed a narrow gold bangle, on +which was engraved in minute letters, "What is worth doing at all, is +worth doing well."</p> + +<p>"Isn't it pretty?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes," doubtfully. "The bracelet is pretty enough, Missy; but I can't +quite like what it stands for. It don't seem ladylike for you to be +knowing about harnesses and such things."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Nursey, dear, what nonsense!"</p> + +<p>There were things to be done after she got home, but Elsie could not +hurry her visit. Jack consumed his grass heap, and then stood sleepily +blinking at the flies for a long hour before his young mistress jumped +up.</p> + +<p>"Now, I must go!" she cried. "Come out and see me harness up, Nursey."</p> + +<p>It was swiftly and skilfully done, but still Nurse Sparrow shook her +head.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span> +"I don't like it!" she insisted. "'A horse shall be a vain thing for +safety'—that's in Holy Writ."</p> + +<p>"You are an obstinate old dear," said Elsie, good-humoredly. "Wait till +you're ill some day, and I go for the doctor. <i>Then</i> you'll realize the +advantage of practical education. What a queer smell of smoke there is, +Nursey!" gathering up her reins.</p> + +<p>"Yes; the woods has been on fire for quite a spell, back on the other +side of Bald Top. You can smell the smoke most of the time. Seems to me +it's stronger than usual, to-day."</p> + +<p>"You don't think there is any danger of its coming this way, do you?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no!" contentedly. "I don't suppose it could come so far as this."</p> + +<p>"But why not?" thought Elsie to herself, as she drove rapidly back. "If +the wind were right for it, why shouldn't it come this way? Fires travel +much farther than that on the prairies,—and they go very fast, too.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span> I +never did like having Nursey all alone by herself on that farm."</p> + +<p>She reached home, to find things in unexpected confusion. Her father had +been called away for the night by a telegram, and her mother—on this, +of all days—had gone to bed, disabled with a bad headache. There was +much to be done, and Elsie flung herself into the breach, and did it, +too busy to think again of Nurse Sparrow and the fire, until, toward +nightfall, she noted that the wind had changed, and was blowing straight +from Bald Top, bringing with it an increase of smoke.</p> + +<p>She ran out to consult the hired man before he went home for the night, +and to ask if he thought there was any danger of the fire reaching the +Long Woods. He "guessed" not.</p> + +<p>"These fires get going quite often on to the other side of Bald Top, but +there ain't none of 'em come over this way, and 'tain't likely they ever +will. I guess Mis' Sparrow's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span> safe enough. You needn't worry, Miss +Elsie."</p> + +<p>In spite of this comforting assurance, Elsie did worry. She looked out +of her west window the last thing before going to bed; and when, at two +in the morning, she woke with a sudden start, her first impulse was to +run to the window again. Then she gave an exclamation, and her heart +stood still with fear; for the southern slopes of Bald Top were ringed +with flames which gleamed dim and lurid through the smoke, and showers +of sparks, thrown high in air, showed that the edges of the woods beyond +Nursey's farm were already burning.</p> + +<p>"She'll be frightened to death," thought Elsie. "Oh, poor dear, and no +one to help her!"</p> + +<p>What should she do? To go after the man and waken him meant a long +delay. He was a heavy sleeper, and his house was a quarter of a mile +distant. But there was Jack in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span> stable, and the stable key was in +the hall below. As she dressed, she decided.</p> + +<p>"How glad I am that I can do this!" she thought, as she flung the +harness over the pony's back, strapped, buckled, adjusted,—doing all +with a speed which yet left nothing undone and slighted nothing. Not +even on the day when she took the prize had she put her horse in so +quickly. She ran back at the last moment for two warm rugs. Deftly +guiding Jack over the grass, that his hoofs should make no noise, she +gained the road, and, quickening him to his fastest pace, drove +fearlessly into the dark woods.</p> + +<p>They were not so dark as she had feared they would be, for the light of +a late, low-hung moon penetrated the trees, with perhaps some +reflections from the far-away fire, so that she easily made out the +turns and windings of the track. The light grew stronger as she +advanced. The main fire was still far distant, but before she reached +Nurse's little clearing,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span> she even drove by one place where the woods +were ablaze.</p> + +<p>She had expected to find Mrs. Sparrow in an agitation of terror; but, +behold! she was in her bed, sound asleep. Happily, it was easy to get at +her. Nursey's theory was that, "if anybody thought it would pay him to +sit up at night and rob an old woman, he'd do it anyway, and needn't +have the trouble of getting in at the window;" and on the strength of +this philosophical utterance, she went to bed with the door on the +latch.</p> + +<p>She took Elsie for a dream, at first.</p> + +<p>"I'm just a-dreaming. I ain't a-going to wake up; you needn't think it," +she muttered sleepily.</p> + +<p>But when Elsie at last shook her into consciousness, and pointed at the +fiery glow on the horizon, her terror matched her previous unconcern.</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear, dear!" she wailed, as with trembling, suddenly stiff fingers +she put on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span> her clothes. "I'm a-going to be burned out! It's hard, at my +time of life, just when I had got things tidy and comfortable. I was +a-thinking of sending over for my niece to the Isle of Dogs, and getting +her to come and stay with me, I was indeed, Missy. But there won't be +any use in that <i>now</i>."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps the fire won't come so far as this, after all," said the +practical Elsie.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, it will! It's 'most here now."</p> + +<p>"Well, whether it does or not, I'm going to carry you home with me, +where you will be safe. Now, Nursey, tell me which of your things you +care most for, that we can take with us,—small things, I mean. Of +course we can't carry tables and beds in my little cart."</p> + +<p>The selection proved difficult. Nurse's affections clung to a tall +eight-day clock, and were hard to be detached. She also felt strongly +that it was a clear flying in the face of Providence not to save +"Sparrow's chair,"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span> a solid structure of cherry, with rockers weighing +many pounds, and quite as wide as the wagon. Elsie coaxed and +remonstrated, and at last got Nursey into the seat, with the cat and a +bundle of her best clothes in her lap, her tea-spoons in her pocket, a +basket of specially beloved baking-tins under the seat, and a favorite +feather-bed at the back, among whose billowy folds were tucked away an +assortment of treasures, ending with the Thanksgiving goodies which had +been brought over that morning.</p> + +<p>"I can't leave that turkey behind, Missy, dear—I really can't!" pleaded +Nursey. "I've been thinking of him, and anticipating how good he was +going to be, all day; and I haven't had but one taste of your pie. +They're so little, they'll go in anywhere."</p> + +<p>The fire seemed startlingly near now, and the western sky was all +aflame, while over against it, in the east, burned the first yellow +beams of dawn. People were astir by this<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span> time, and men on foot and +horseback were hurrying toward the burning woods. They stared curiously +at the oddly laden cart.</p> + +<p>"Why, you didn't ever come over for me all alone!" cried Nurse Sparrow, +rousing suddenly to a sense of the situation. "I've be'n that flustered +that I never took thought of how you got across, or anything about it. +Where was your Pa, Missy,—and Hiram?"</p> + +<p>Elsie explained.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you blessed child; and if you hadn't come, I'd have been burned in +my bed, as like as not!" cried the old woman, quite overpowered. "Well, +well! little did I think, when you was a baby, and I a-tending you, that +the day was to come when you were to run yourself into danger for the +sake of saving my poor old life!"</p> + +<p>"I don't see that there has been any particular danger for me to run, so +far; and as for saving your life, Nursey, it would very likely have +saved itself if I hadn't come near<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span> you. See, the wind has changed; it +is blowing from the north now. Perhaps the fire won't reach your house, +after all. But, anyway, I am glad you are here and not there. We cannot +be too careful of such a dear old Nursey as you are. And one thing, I +think, you'll confess,"—Elsie's tone was a little mischievous,—"and +that is, that harnessing classes have their uses. If I hadn't known how +to put Jack in the cart, I might at this moment be hammering on the door +of that stupid Hiram (who, you know, sleeps like a log) trying to wake +him, and you on the clearing alone, scared to death. Now, Nursey, own +up: Mrs. Thanet wasn't so far wrong, now was she?"</p> + +<p>"Indeed, no, Missy. It'd be very ungrateful for me to be saying that. +The lady judged wiser than I did."</p> + +<p>"Very well, then," cried Elsie, joyously. "If only your house isn't +burned up, I shall be glad the fire happened; for it's such a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span> triumph +for Mrs. Thanet, and she'll be so pleased!"</p> + +<p>Nursey's house did not burn down. The change of wind came just in time +to save it; and, after eating her own Thanksgiving turkey in her old +home, and being petted and made much of for a few days, she went back, +none the worse for her adventure, to find her goods and chattels in +their usual places, and all safe.</p> + +<p>And Mrs. Thanet <i>was</i> pleased. She sent Elsie a pretty locket, with the +date of the fire engraved upon it, and wrote that she gloried in her as +the Vindicator of a Principle, which fine words made Elsie laugh; but +she enjoyed being praised all the same.</p> + +<p class="link"><a href="#contents">Back to contents</a></p> + +<hr /> + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span> +<a name="viii" id="viii"></a>DOLLY PHONE.</h2> + + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 95px;"> +<img src="images/dropa.jpg" width="95" height="100" alt="Ornate capital "A"" title="" /> +</div> + +<p class="noi"><span class="hidden">A</span> DUSTY workshop, dark except where one broad ray of light streamed +through a broken shutter, a row of mysterious objects, with a tiny tin +funnel fitted into the front of each, and a cloth over their tops, odd +designs in wood and brass hanging on the wall, a carpenter's bench, a +small furnace, a general strew of shavings, iron scrape, and odds and +ends, and a little girl sitting on the floor, crying. It does not sound +much like the beginning of a story, does it? And no one would have been +more surprised than Amy Carpenter herself if any one had come as she sat +there crying, and told her that a story was begun, and she was in it.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span> +Yet that is the way in which stories in real life often do begin. Dust, +dulness, every-day things about one, tears, temper; and out of these +unpromising materials Fate weaves a "happening" for us. She does not +wait till skies are blue and suns shine, till the room is dusted, and we +are all ready, but chooses such time as pleases her, and surprises us.</p> + +<p>Amy was in as evil a temper as little girls of ten are often visited +with. Things had gone very wrong with her that day. It began with a +great disappointment. All Miss Gray's class at school was going on a +picnic. Amy had expected to go too, and at the last moment her mother +had kept her at home.</p> + +<p>"I'm real sorry about it," Mrs. Carpenter had said, "but you see how it +is. Baby's right fretty with his teeth, and your father's that worried +about his machine that I'm afraid he'll be down sick. If we can't keep<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span> +Baby quiet, father can't eat, and if he don't eat he won't sleep, and if +he can't sleep he can't work, and then I don't see what will become of +us. I've all that sewing to finish for Mrs. Judge Peters, and she's +going away Monday; and if she don't have it in time, she'll be put out, +and, as like as not, give her work to some one else. Now, don't cry, +Amy. I'm right sorry to disappoint you, but all of us must take our turn +in giving up things. I'm sure I take mine," with a little patient sigh.</p> + +<p>"Father's sure that this new machine of his is going to make our +fortune," she went on, after an interval of busy stitching. "But I don't +know. He said just the same about the alarm-clock, and the Imferno +Reaper and Binder, and that thing-a-my-jig for opening cans, and the +self-registering Savings Bank, and the Minute Egg-Beater, and the Tuck +Measurer, and none of them came to anything in the end. Perhaps it'll be +the same<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span> with this." Another sigh, a little deeper than the last.</p> + +<p>Some little girls might have been touched with the tired, discouraged +voice and look, but Amy was a stormy child, with a hot temper and a very +strong will. So instead of being sorry and helpful, she went on crying +and complaining, till her mother spoke sharply, and then subsided into +sulky silence. Baby woke, and she had to take him up, but she did it +unwillingly, and her unhappy mood seemed to communicate itself to him, +as moods will. He wriggled and twisted in her arms, and presently began +to whimper. Amy hushed and patted. She set him on his feet, she turned +him over on his face, nothing pleased him. The whimper increased to a +roar.</p> + +<p>"Dear! dear!" cried poor Mrs. Carpenter, stopping her machine in the +middle of a long seam. "What is the matter? I never did see anybody so +unhandy with a baby as you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span> are. Here I am in such a hurry, and you +don't try to amuse him worth a cent. I'm really ashamed of you, Amy +Carpenter."</p> + +<p>Amy's back and arms ached; she felt that this speech was cruelly unjust. +What she did not see was that it was her own temper which was repeated +in her little brother. Like all babies, he knew instinctively the +difference between loving tendance and that which is bestowed from a +cold sense of duty, and he resented the latter with all his might.</p> + +<p>"Do walk up and down and sing to him," said Mrs. Carpenter, who hated to +have her child unhappy, but still more to leave her sewing,—"sing +something cheerful. Perhaps he'll go to sleep if you do."</p> + +<p>So Amy, feeling very cross and injured, had to walk the heavy baby up +and down, and sing "Rock me to sleep, Mother," which was the only +"cheerful" song she could think of. It quieted the baby for a while, +then, just as his eyelids were drooping, a fresh attack<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span> of fretting +seized upon him, and he began to cry; Amy was so vexed that she gave him +a furtive slap. It was a very little slap, but her mother saw it.</p> + +<p>"You naughty, bad girl!" she cried, jumping up; "so that's the way you +treat your little brother, is it? Slapping him on the sly! No wonder he +doesn't like you, and won't go to sleep!" She snatched the child away, +and gave Amy a smart box on the ear. Mrs. Carpenter, though a good +woman, had a quick temper of her own.</p> + +<p>"You can go up-stairs now," she said in a stern, exasperated tone. "I +don't want you any more this afternoon. If you were a good girl, you +might have been a real comfort to me this hard day, but as it is, I'd +rather have your room than your company."</p> + +<p>Frightened and angry both, Amy rushed up-stairs, and into her father's +workshop, the door of which stood open. He had just gone out, and the +confusion and dreariness of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span> place seemed inviting to her at the +moment. Flinging the door to with a great bang, she threw herself on the +floor, and gave vent to her pent-up emotions.</p> + +<p>"It's unjust!" she sobbed, speaking louder than usual, as people do who +are in a passion. "Mamma is as mean as she can be! Scolding me because +that old baby wouldn't go to sleep! I hate everybody! I wish I was dead! +I wish everybody else was dead!"</p> + +<p>These were dreadful words for a little girl to use. Even in her anger, +Amy would have been startled and ashamed at the idea of any one's ever +hearing them.</p> + +<p>But Amy had a listener, though she little suspected it, and, what was +worse, a listener who was recording every word that she uttered!</p> + +<p>The "new machine" of which Mrs. Carpenter had spoken was really a very +clever and ingenious one. It was the adaptation of the phonographic +principle to the person of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span> a doll. Mr. Carpenter had succeeded in +interesting somebody with capital in his project, and the dolls were at +that moment being manufactured for the apparatus, the construction of +which he kept in his own hands. This apparatus was held in small +cylinders, just large enough to fit into the body of a doll and contain, +each, a few sentences, which the doll would seem to speak when set in an +upright position.</p> + +<p>These cylinders were just ready, and standing in a row waiting to +receive their "charges," which were to be put into them through the tin +funnels fitted for the purpose. Amy, as she sat on the floor, was +exactly opposite one of these funnels, and all her angry words passed +into, and became a part of, the mechanism of the doll. After this, no +matter how many pretty words might be uttered softly into that cylinder, +none of them could make any impression; the doll was full. It could hold +no more.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span> +But no one knew that the doll was full. Amy, her fit of passion over, +fell asleep on the floor, and when her father's step sounded below, +waked in a calmer mood. She was sorry that she had been so naughty, and +tried to make up for it by being more helpful and patient in the evening +and next day. Her mother easily forgave her, and she did not find it +hard to forgive herself, and soon forgot the event of that unhappy +afternoon. Mr. Carpenter sat down in front of his cylinders that night, +and filled them all, as he supposed, with nice little sentences to +please and surprise small doll owners, such as "Good morning, Mamma. +Shall I put on my pink or my olive frock this morning?" or "Good-night, +Mamma. I'm so sleepy!" or bits of nursery rhymes,—Bo Peep or Jack and +Jill or Little Boy Blue. Then, when the phonographs were filled, the +machinery went away to be put in the dolls, and Mr. Carpenter began on a +fresh set.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span> +Mrs. Carpenter, meanwhile, had finished her big job of sewing, so she +felt less hurried, and had more time for the baby. The weather was +beautiful, things went well at school, and altogether life seemed +pleasant to Amy, and she found it easy to be kind and good-natured.</p> + +<p>This agreeable state of things lasted through the autumn. The +Dolliphone, as Mr. Carpenter had christened his invention, proved a hit. +Orders poured in from all over the United States, and from England and +France, and the manufactory was taxed to its utmost extent. At last one +of Mr. Carpenter's inventions had turned out a success, and his spirits +rose high.</p> + +<p>"We've fetched it this time, Mother," he told his wife. "The stock's +going up like all possessed, and the dolls are going out as fast as we +can get them ready. Why, we've had orders from as far off as Australia! +China'll come next, I suppose, or the Cannibal<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span> Islands. There's no end +to the money that's in it."</p> + +<p>"I'm glad, Robert, I'm sure," returned Mrs. Carpenter; "but don't count +too much upon it all. I've thought a heap of that self-acting churn, you +remember."</p> + +<p>"Pshaw! the churn never did amount to shucks anyhow," said her husband, +who had the true inventor's faculty for forgetting the mischances of the +past in the contemplation of the hopes of the future. "It was just a +little dud to make folks open their eyes, any way. This Dolliphone is +different. It's bound to sell like wild-fire, once it gets to going. +We'll be rich folks before we know it, Mother."</p> + +<p>"That'll be nice," said Mrs. Carpenter, with a dry, unbelieving cough. +She did not mean to be as discouraging as she sounded, but a woman can +scarcely be the wife of an unsuccessful genius for fifteen years, and +see the family earnings vanish down the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span> throat of one invention after +another, without becoming outwardly, as well as inwardly, discouraged.</p> + +<p>"Now, don't be a wet blanket, Mother," said Mr. Carpenter, +good-humoredly. "We've had some upsets in our calculation, I confess, +but this time it's all coming out right, as you'll see. And I wanted to +ask you about something, and that is what you'd think of Amy's having +one of the dolls for her Christmas? Don't you think it'd please her?"</p> + +<p>"Why, of course; but do you think you can afford it, Robert? The dolls +are five dollars, aren't they?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, to customers they are, but I shouldn't have to pay anything like +that, of course. I can have one for cost price, say a dollar +seventy-five; so if you think the child would like it, we'll fix it so."</p> + +<p>"Well, I should be glad to have Amy get one," said Mrs. Carpenter, +brightening up.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span> "And it seems only right that she should, when you +invented it and all. She's been pretty good these last weeks, and she'll +be mightily tickled."</p> + +<p>So it was settled, but the pile of orders to be filled was so incessant +that it was not till Christmas Eve that Mr. Carpenter could get hold of +a doll for his own use, and no time was left in which to dress it. That +was no matter, Mrs. Carpenter declared; Amy would like to make the +clothes herself, and it would be good practice in sewing. She hunted up +some pieces of cambric and flannel and scraps of ribbon for the purpose, +and when Amy woke on Christmas morning, there by her side lay the big, +beautiful creature, with flaxen hair, long-lashed blue eyes, and a +dimple in her pink chin. Beside her was a parcel containing the +materials for her clothes and a new spool of thread, and on the doll's +arm was pinned a paper with this inscription:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span>—</p> + +<blockquote> +<p>"<i>For Amy, with a Merry Christmas from Father and Mother.</i></p> + +<p>"<i>Her name is Dolly Phone.</i>"</p> +</blockquote> + +<p>Amy's only doll up to this time had been a rag one, manufactured by her +mother, and you can imagine her delight. She hugged Dolly Phone to her +heart, kissed her twenty times over, and examined all her beauties in +detail,—her lovely bang, her hands, and her little feet, which had +brown kid shoes sewed on them, and the smile on her lips, which showed +two tiny white teeth. She stood her up on the quilt to see how tall she +was, and as she did so, wonder of wonders, out of these smiling red lips +came a voice, sharp and high-pitched, as if a canary-bird or a +Jew's-harp were suddenly endowed with speech, and began to talk to her!</p> + +<p>What did the voice say? Not "Good-morning, Mamma," or "I'm so sleepy!" +or "Mistress Mary quite contrary," or "Twinkle, twinkle, little +star,"—none of these things.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span> Her sister dolls might have said these +things; what Dolly Phone said, speaking fast and excitedly, was,—</p> + +<p>"It's unjust! Mamma is as mean as she can be! Scolding me because that +old baby wouldn't go to sleep! I hate everybody! I wish I was dead! I +wish everybody else was dead!" And then, in a different tone, a good +deal deeper, "Good-morning, ma-m—" and there the voice stopped +suddenly.</p> + +<p>Amy had listened to this remarkable address with astonishment. That her +beautiful new baby could speak, was delightful, but what horrible things +she said!</p> + +<p>"How queerly you talk, darling!" she cried, snatching the doll into her +arms again. "What is the matter? Why do you speak so to me? Are you +alive, or only making believe? I'm not mean; what makes you say I am? +And, oh! why do you wish you were dead?"</p> + +<p>Dolly stared full in her face with an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span> unwinking smile. She looked +perfectly good-natured. Amy began to think that she was dreaming, or +that the whole thing was some queer trick.</p> + +<p>"There, there, dear!" she cried, patting the doll's back, "we won't say +any more about it. You love me now, I know you do!"</p> + +<p>Then, very gently and cautiously, she set Dolly on her feet again. +"Perhaps she'll say something nice this time," she thought hopefully.</p> + +<p>Alas! the rosy lips only uttered the self-same words. "Mean—unjust—I +hate everybody—I wish everybody was dead," in sharp, unpitying +sequence. Worst of all, the phrases began to have a familiar sound to +Amy's ear. She felt her cheeks burn with a sudden red.</p> + +<p>"Why," she thought, "that was what I said in the workshop the day I was +so cross. How could the doll know? Oh, dear! she's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span> so lovely and so +beautiful, but if she keeps on talking like this, what shall I do?"</p> + +<p>Deep in her heart struggled an uneasy fear. Mother would hear the doll! +Mother might suspect what it meant! At all hazards, Dolly must be kept +from talking while mother was by.</p> + +<p>She was so quiet and subdued when she went downstairs to breakfast, with +the doll in her arms, that her father and mother could not understand +it. They had looked forward to seeing her boisterously joyful. She +kissed them, and thanked them, and tried to seem like her usual self, +but mothers' eyes are sharp, and Mrs. Carpenter detected the look of +trouble.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter, dear?" she whispered. "Don't you feel well?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes! very well. Nothing's the matter." Amy whispered back, keeping +the terrible Dolly sedulously prone, as she spoke.</p> + +<p>"Come, Amy, let's see your new baby,"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span> said Mr. Carpenter. "She's a +beauty, ain't she? Half of her was made in this house, did you know +that? Set her up, and let's hear her talk."</p> + +<p>"She's asleep now," faltered Amy. "But she's been talking up-stairs. She +talks very nicely, Papa. She's tired now, truly she is."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense! she isn't the kind that gets tired. Her tongue won't ache if +she runs on all day; she's like some little girls in that. Stand her up, +Amy, I want to hear her. I've never seen one of 'em out of the shop +before. She looks wonderfully alive, doesn't she, Mother?"</p> + +<p>But Amy still hesitated. Her manner was so strange that her father grew +impatient at last, and, reaching out, took the doll from her, and set it +sharply on the table. The little button on the sole of the foot set the +curious instrument within in motion. As prepared phrases were rolled off +in shrill succession, Mr. Carpenter leaned forward to listen.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span> When the +sounds ended, he raised his head with a look of bewilderment.</p> + +<p>"Why—why—what is the creature at?" he exclaimed. "That isn't what I +put into her. 'I Wish I was dead! Wish everybody else was dead!' I can't +understand it at all. I charged all the dolls myself, and there wasn't a +word like that in the whole batch. If the others have gone wrong like +this, it's all up with our profits."</p> + +<p>He looked so troubled and down-hearted that Amy could bear it no longer.</p> + +<p>"It's all my fault!" she cried, bursting into tears. "Somehow it's all +my fault, though I can't tell how, for it was I who said those things. I +said those very things, Papa, in your workshop one day when I was in a +temper. Don't you recollect the day, Mother,—the day when I didn't go +to the picnic, and Baby wouldn't go to sleep, and I slapped him, and you +boxed my ears? I went up-stairs, and I was crying, and I said,—yes, I +think I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span> said every word of those things, though I forgot all about them +till Dolly said them to me this morning, and how she could possibly +know, I can't imagine."</p> + +<p>"But I can imagine," said her father. "Where did you sit that day, Amy?"</p> + +<p>"On the floor, by the door."</p> + +<p>"Was there a row of things close by, with tin funnels stuck in them and +a cloth over the top?"</p> + +<p>"I think there was. I recollect the funnels."</p> + +<p>"Then that's all right!" exclaimed Mr. Carpenter, his face clearing up. +"Those were the phonographs, Mother, and, don't you see, she must have +been exactly opposite one of the funnels, and her voice went in and +filled it. It's the best kind of good luck that that cylinder happened +to be put into her doll. If all that bad language had gone to anybody +else, there would have been the mischief to pay. Folks would have been +writing to the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span> papers, as like as not, or the ministers preaching +against the dolls as a bad influence. It would have ruined the whole +concern, and all your fault, Amy."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Papa, how dreadful! how perfectly dreadful!" was all Amy could say, +but she sobbed so wildly that her father's anger melted.</p> + +<p>"There, don't cry," he said more kindly; "we won't be too hard on you on +Christmas Day. Wipe your eyes, and we'll try to think no more about it, +especially as the spoiled doll has fallen to your own share, and no real +harm is done."</p> + +<p>In his relief Mr. Carpenter was disposed to pass lightly over the +matter. Not so his wife. She took a more serious view of it.</p> + +<p>"You see, Amy," she said that night when they chanced to be alone, "you +see how a hasty word sticks and lasts. You never supposed that day that +the things you said would<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span> ever come back to you again, but here they +are."</p> + +<p>"Yes—because of the doll,—of her inside, I mean. It heard."</p> + +<p>"But if the doll hadn't heard, some one would have heard all the same."</p> + +<p>"Do you mean God?" asked Amy, in an awe-struck voice.</p> + +<p>"Yes. He hears every word that we say, the minister tells us, and writes +them all down in a book. If it frightened you to have the doll repeat +the words you had forgotten, think how much more it will frighten you, +and all of us, when that book is opened and all the wrong things we have +ever said are read out for the whole world to hear."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Carpenter did not often speak so solemnly, and it made a great +impression on Amy's mind. She still plays with Dolly Phone, and loves +her, in a way, but it is a love which is mingled with fear. The doll is +like a reproach of conscience to her. That is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span> not pleasant, so she is +kept flat on her back most of the time. Only, now and then, when Amy has +been cross and said a sharp word, and is sorry for it, she solemnly +takes Dolly, sets her on her feet, and, as a penance, makes herself +listen to all the hateful string of phrases which form her stock of +conversation.</p> + +<p>"It's horrid, but it's good for me," she tells the baby, who listens +with a look of fascinated wonder. "I shall have to keep her, and let her +talk that way, till I'm such a good girl that there isn't any danger of +my ever being naughty again. And that must be for a long, long time +yet," she concludes with a sigh.</p> + +<p class="link"><a href="#contents">Back to contents</a></p> + +<hr /> + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span> +<a name="ix" id="ix"></a>A NURSERY TYRANT.</h2> + + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 94px;"> +<img src="images/dropi.jpg" width="94" height="100" alt="Ornate capital "I"" title="" /> +</div> + +<p class="noi"><span class="hidden">I</span>T was such a pleasant old nursery that it seemed impossible that +anything disagreeable should enter into it. The three southern windows +stood open in all pleasant weather, letting in cheerful sun and air. For +cold days there was a generous grate, full of blazing coals, and guarded +by a high fender of green-painted wire. There were little cupboards set +in the deep sides of the chimney. The two on the left were Barbara's and +Eunice's; the two to the right, Reggy's and Roger's. Here they kept +their own particular treasures under lock and key; while little May, the +left-over one, was accommodated with two shelves<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span> inside the closet +where they all hung their hats and coats.</p> + +<p>No one slept in this nursery, but all the Erskine children spent a good +part of the daytime in it. Here they studied their lessons, and played +when it was too stormy to go out; there the little ones were dressed and +undressed, and all five took their suppers there every night. They liked +it better than any other room in the house, partly, I suppose, because +they lived so much in it.</p> + +<p>Barbara was the eldest of the brood. It would have shocked her very +much, had she guessed that any one was ever going to speak of her as a +"tyrant." Her idea of a tyrant was a lofty personage with a crown on his +head, like Xerxes, or King John, or the Emperor Nero. She had not gotten +far enough in life or history to know that the same thing can be done in +a small house that is done on a throne; and that tyranny is tyranny even +when it is not bridging the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span> Dardanelles, or flinging Christians to the +wild beasts, or refusing to sign Magna Charta. In short, that the +principle of a thing is its real life, and makes it the same, whether +its extent or opportunities be more or less.</p> + +<p>This particular tyrant was a bright, active, self-willed little girl of +eleven, with a pair of brown eyes, a mop of curly brown hair, pink +cheeks, and a mouth which was so rosy and smiled so often that people +forgot to notice the resolute little chin beneath it. She was very +good-humored when everybody minded her, warm-hearted, generous, full of +plans and fancies, and anxious to make everybody happy in her own way. +She also cared a good deal about being liked and admired, as self-willed +people often do; and whenever she fancied that the children loved Eunice +better than herself (which was the case), she was grieved, and felt that +it was unfair. "For I do a great deal more to please them than Eunie +does," she would say to herself, forgetting that not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span> what we do, but +what we are, it is which makes us beloved or otherwise.</p> + +<p>But though the younger ones loved Eunice best, they were much more apt +to do as Barbara wished, partly because it was easier than to oppose +her, and partly because she and her many ideas and projects interested +them. They never knew what was coming next; and they seldom dared to +make up their minds about anything, or form any wishes of their own, +till they knew what their despot had decided upon. Eunice was gentle and +yielding, Mary almost a baby; but the boys, as they grew older, +occasionally showed signs of rebellion, and though Barbara put these +down with an iron hand, they were likely to come again with fresh +provocation.</p> + +<p>The fifteenth of May was always a festival in the Erskine household. +"Mamma's May Day," the children called it, because not only was it their +mother's birthday, but it also took the place of the regular May Day, +which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span> was apt to be too cold or windy for celebration. The children +were allowed to choose their own treat, and they always chose a picnic +and a May crowning. Barbara was invariably queen, as a matter of course, +and she made a very good one, and expended much time and ingenuity in +inventing something new each year to make the holiday different from +what it had ever been before. She always kept her plans secret till the +last moment, to enhance the pleasure of the surprise.</p> + +<p>It never occurred to any one, least of all to Barbara herself, that +there could be rotation in office, or that any one else should be chosen +as queen. Still, changes of dynasty will come to families as well as to +kingdoms; and Queen Barbara found this out.</p> + +<p>"Eunie, I want you to do something," she said, one afternoon in late +April, producing two long pieces of stiff white tarlatan; "please sew +this up <i>there</i> and there, and hem it <i>there</i>,—not nice sewing, you +know, but big stitches."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span> +"What is it for?" asked Eunie, obediently receiving the tarlatan, and +putting on her thimble.</p> + +<p>"Ah, that is a secret," replied Barbara. "You'll know by and by."</p> + +<p>"Can't you tell me now?"</p> + +<p>"No, not till Mother's May Day. I'll tell you then."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Barbie," cried Eunice, dropping the tarlatan, "I wanted to speak to +you before you began anything. The children want little Mary to be the +queen this year."</p> + +<p>"Mary! Why? I've always been queen. What do they want to change for? +Mary wouldn't know how to do it, and I've such a nice plan for this +year!"</p> + +<p>"Your plans always are nice," said the peace-loving Eunice; "but, +Barbie, really and truly, we do all want to have Mary this time. She's +so cunning and pretty, and you've always been queen, you know. It was +the boys thought of it first, and they<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span> want her ever so much. Do let +her, just for once."</p> + +<p>"Why, Eunice, I wouldn't have believed you could be so unkind!" said +Barbara, in an aggrieved tone. "It's not a bit fair to turn me out, when +I've always worked so hard at the May Day, and done <i>everything</i>, while +the rest of you just sat by and enjoyed yourselves, and had all the fun +and none of the trouble."</p> + +<p>"But the boys think the trouble is half the fun," persisted Eunice. +"They would rather take it than not. Don't you think it would be nice to +be a maid of honor, just for once?"—persuasively.</p> + +<p>"No, indeed, I don't!" retorted Barbara, passionately. "Be maid of +honor, and have that baby of a Mary, queen! You must be crazy, Eunice +Erskine. I'll be queen or nothing, you can tell the boys; and if I +backed out, and didn't help, I guess you'd all be sorry enough." So +saying, Barbara<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span> marched off, with her chin in the air. She was not +really much afraid that her usually obedient subjects would resist her +authority; but she had found that this injured way of speaking impressed +the children, and helped her to carry her points.</p> + +<p>So she was surprised enough, when that evening, at supper, she noticed a +constraint of manner among the rest of the party. The children looked +sober. Reggy whispered to Eunice, Roger kicked Reggy, and at last burst +out with, "Now, see here, Barbie Erskine, we want to tell you something. +We're going to have Baby for queen this time, and not you, and that's +all there is about it."</p> + +<p>"Roger," said the indignant Barbara, "how dare you speak so? You're not +going to have anything of the kind unless I say you may."</p> + +<p>"Yes, we are. Mamma says we ought to take turns, and we never have. +Nobody has ever had a turn except you, and you keep<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span> having yours all +the time. We don't want the same queen always, and this year we've +chosen Mary."</p> + +<p>"Roger Erskine!" cried Barbara, hotly. "You're the rudest boy that ever +was!" Then she turned to the others. "Now listen to me," she said. "I've +made all my plans for this year, and they're perfectly lovely. I won't +tell you what they are, exactly, because it would spoil the surprise, +but there's going to be an angel! An angel—with wings! What do you +think of that? You'd be sorry if I gave it up, wouldn't you? Well, if +one more word is said about Mary's being queen, I will give it up, and I +won't help you a bit. Now you can choose."</p> + +<p>Her tone was awfully solemn, but the children did not give way. Even the +hint about the angel produced no effect. Eunice began, "I'm sure, +Barbie—" but Reggy stopped her with, "Shut up, Eunice! Everybody in +favor<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span> of Mary for queen, can hold up their hands," he called out.</p> + +<p>Six hands went up. Eunice raised hers in a deprecating way, but she +raised it. "It's a vote," cried Roger. Barbara glared at them all with +helpless wrath; then she said, in a choked voice, "Oh, well! have your +old picnic, then. I sha'n't come to it," and ran out of the room, +leaving her refractory subjects almost frightened at their own success.</p> + +<p>Two unhappy weeks followed. True to her threat, Barbara refused to take +any share in the holiday preparations. She sat about in corners, sulky +and unhappy, while the others worked, or tried to work. Sooth to say, +they missed her help very much, and did badly enough without her, but +they would not let her know this. The boys whistled as they drove nails, +and <i>sounded</i> very contented and happy.</p> + +<p>Presently Fate sent them a new ally.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span> Aunt Kate, the young aunt whom the +children liked best of all their relations, came on a visit, and, +finding so much going on, bestirred herself to help. She was not long in +missing Barbara, and she easily guessed out the position of affairs, +though the children made no explanations.</p> + +<p>One afternoon, leaving the others hard at work, she went in search of +Barbara, who had hidden herself away with a book, in the shrubbery.</p> + +<p>"Why are you all alone?" she asked, sitting down beside her.</p> + +<p>"I don't know where the others are," said Barbara, moodily.</p> + +<p>"They are tying wreaths to dress the tent to-morrow. Don't you want to +go and help them?"</p> + +<p>"No, they don't want me! Oh, Aunt Kate!" with a sudden burst of +confidence, "they have treated me so! You can't think how they have +treated me!"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span> +"Why, what have they done?"</p> + +<p>"I've always been queen on mother's May Day,—always. And this year I +meant to be again. And I had such a nice plan for the coronation, and +then they all chose Mary."</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"They insisted on having Mary for queen, though I told them I wouldn't +help if they did," repeated Barbara.</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"Well? That's all. What do you mean, Aunty?"</p> + +<p>"I was waiting to hear you tell the real grievance. That the children +should want Mary for queen, when you have been one so many times, +doesn't seem to be a reason."</p> + +<p>Barbara was too much surprised to speak.</p> + +<p>"Yes, my dear, I mean it," persisted her aunt. "Now let us talk this +over. Why should you always be queen on Mamma's birthday? Who gave you +the right, I mean?"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span> +"The children liked to have me," faltered Barbara.</p> + +<p>"Precisely. But this year they liked to have Mary."</p> + +<p>"But I worked so hard, Aunty. You can't think how I worked. I did +everything; and sometimes I got dreadfully tired."</p> + +<p>"Was that to please the others?"</p> + +<p>"Y-es—"</p> + +<p>"Or would they rather have helped in the work, and did you keep it to +yourself because you liked to do it alone?" asked Aunt Kate, with a +smile. "Now, my Barbie, listen to me. You have led always because you +liked to lead, and the others submitted to you. But no one can govern +forever. The rest are growing up; they have their own rights and their +own opinions. You cannot go on always ruling them as you did when they +were little. Do you want to be a good, useful older sister, loved and +trusted, or to have Eunice slip into your place, and be the real elder +sister,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span> while you gradually become a cipher in the family?"</p> + +<p>Barbara began to cry.</p> + +<p>"Dear child," said Aunty Kate, kissing her, "now is your chance. +Influence, not authority, should be a sister's weapon. If you want to +lead the children, you must do it with a smile, not a pout."</p> + +<p>The children were surprised enough that evening when Barbara came up to +offer to help tie wreaths. Her eyes looked as if she had been crying, +but she was very kind and nice all that night and next day. She was maid +of honor to little Queen Mary, after all. Eunice gave her a rapturous +kiss afterward, and said, "Oh, Barbie, how <i>dear</i> you are!" and, +somehow, Barbara forgot to feel badly about not being queen. Some +defeats are better than victories.</p> + +<p class="link"><a href="#contents">Back to contents</a></p> + +<hr /> + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span> +<a name="x" id="x"></a>WHAT THE PINK FLAMINGO DID.</h2> + + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 91px;"> +<img src="images/dropt.jpg" width="91" height="100" alt="Ornate capital "T"" title="" /> +</div> + +<p class="noi"><span class="hidden">T</span>HE great pink flamingo roused from his resting-place among the sedges +when the noise began. At first he only stirred sleepily, and wondered, +half awake, at the unusual sounds; but as they increased, curiosity +began to trouble him. Party after party in launches or bright-hued +gondolas glided past, all gay and chattering, and full of excitement +about something, he did not know what. It was the first night on which +the buildings and grounds of the Chicago Fair were illuminated, and the +flamingo could not tell what to make of it, any more than could the +herons and swans, the Muscovy ducks, the cranes, or any other<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span> of the +winged creatures which had learned to make themselves at home on the +banks of the lagoons.</p> + +<p>The pink flamingo's name was Coco. He had been "raised" on the shore of +the St. Johns River, in Florida, as the pet and <i>protégé</i> of Cecil +Schott, a boy who had taught him many tricks,—to catch fish and fetch +them out in his mouth, as a retriever fetches a bird, to eat caramels, +to dive after objects thrown into the water and bring them up in his +beak:—after Cecil himself even, so long as he was small enough to be +counted as an "object." Often and often had Coco plunged into the deep +river, following the downward sweep of his little master, and seized him +by the arm or foot before he was anywhere near the bottom. He would eat +from Cecil's hand, also, and stand by his side, folding one wide wing +across the boy's shoulder, as though it were an arm. Cecil was growing +up now, and had been sent to school; so when Mr. Schott<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span> heard that the +Chicago directors were making a collection of birds for the Fair +Grounds, he offered Coco, whose fearlessness and familiarity with human +beings seemed peculiarly to adapt him for a public position.</p> + +<p>When the fifth electrical launch had sped past the sedges, and strange, +hovering lights began to burn in the sky, and ring the domes and roofs +in the distance toward the south, Coco could endure it no longer, and, +betaking himself to the water, started on a tour of investigation. He +looked very big in the dim light of the upper waterways,—almost as big +as the smaller of the gondolas. The people in the boats exclaimed with +astonishment as he passed them, his broad wings raised above him, like +rose-colored sails, and his stout legs beating the water into foam +behind, like a propeller.</p> + +<p>At first his course lay amid soft shadows. The upper part of the Fair +Grounds was not illuminated, and only a bird's keen vision<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span> could have +made out accustomed objects. But the flamingo had no difficulty in +seeing. He knew exactly where to look for the nest of the female swan on +the wooded island. He could even make out her dim white shape in the +gloom, and hear the disturbed flutter of her wings. There was the +plantation of white hyacinths, and there the outline of the shabby old +"Prairie Schooner," into which he had more than once poked his +inquisitive head. There stood the "Log Cabin," and beyond, the twinkling +lanterns of the Japanese Tea Garden. The pink flamingo recognized them +all. Under one graceful bridge after another, past one enormous +beautiful building after another, he swept, following the curves and +turnings of the waterways, startled here and there by unaccustomed +lights and the sounds of a hurrying crowd, till at last, with one bold +sweep, he glided under the last arch and out into the broad basin of the +Court of Honor.</p> + +<p>He had been there before. Catch the pink<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span> flamingo leaving any part of +the Fair Grounds unexplored! He was not that sort of bird. He had even +been there in the evening, when the moon shone clearly on the water, +with only a point of light here and there on the surrounding shores, and +no sounds to break the stillness but the plash of waves washing in from +the lake, and the low talk of little groups of late-stayers, sitting on +the steps before the Liberal Arts Building, looking across to the +fountain and the dim row of sculptured forms on the summit of the +Peristyle. But now all was different. The gilded dome of the +Administration Building was ringed with lines of fire. The façade of the +Agricultural blazed with lights, which shone on the bas-reliefs and +sculptures, on the winged Diana above, and the great bulls which guard +the approach to the boat-landing. Every figure which topped the long +double lines of the Peristyle stood out distinctly against the +transparent sky; the gilding of the broad arch toward the lake<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span> glowed +ruddy in the light, and so did the majestic figure of the Republic, its +noble outline reflected in the shimmering waters beneath. The great +fountain opposite caught the blaze, and sent its smooth shoots over the +basin edges with a white phosphorescent radiance. Then a wide beam from +a search-light swept across, and seemed to turn the figures into life; +made the form of the Discoverer and the beautiful figures of the rowing +women on either side, throb and pulsate, fluctuating with the +fluctuating ray, till they seemed to bend and move. On either side, the +electrical fountains lifted high in air great sheaves of iridescent +colors, scarlet, green, and blue, like a flag of upheaving jewels, while +the faces of the immense throng along the esplanades and on the dome of +the Administration Building changed from gloom to glory and back again +to gloom as the dancing ray wandered to and fro.</p> + +<p>It was a scene from fairyland; but it did<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span> not altogether please Coco, +who, startled and affrighted, made a dive, and disappeared under water +by way of a relief to his feelings. Then he came up again, and, growing +by degrees accustomed to these novel splendors, he recovered confidence, +and began to look about him.</p> + +<p>"Oh, what a beautiful bird!" he heard some one say; and though he did +not understand the words, he knew well enough that he was being admired, +and thereupon proceeded to make himself a part of the show. He splashed, +dived, extended his wide wings, curved his long neck, and generally +exhibited himself to the best of his ability, all the time maintaining +an absent-minded air, as if he were not aware that any one else was +present. Coco was very conceited for a bird.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, at about the same moment in which the pink flamingo was +roused from his slumbers, a small Turkish boy named Hassan awoke from +his, in the retirement of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span> Midway Plaisance. He had not been at all +a good little Turk since he came to America, his parents thought. +Something in the air of freedom had apparently demoralized him. It might +be that domestic discipline had been relaxed since their arrival, for +there had been much to do in getting the Turkish Bazaar and the Mosque +and the Village ready; but certain it is that Hassan had been naughtier +and given more trouble during the past ten weeks than in all the +previous years of his short life. Once, in a great rain-storm, he had +actually run away, slipping past the guard at the gate, and tearing +wildly down the street. Where he was going, he did not know or care; all +he wanted was to run. How far he might have gone, or what would have +become of him in the end, no one can say, had his father not caught a +glimpse of the small fleeting figure.</p> + +<p>"Beard of the Prophet!" ejaculated the scandalized Mustapha. "That son +of Sheitan,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span> the enemy of true believers, will be run over by the horses +of the infidel if I do not overtake him speedily."</p> + +<p>He tucked up his blue robe, which almost touched the muddy ground, it +was so long, revealing, as he did so, yellow boots topped with American +socks, and, above these, a pair of green drawers, and started in +pursuit. Alas! the guard at the turnstile stopped him, and demanded his +pass. In vain Mustapha remonstrated, and explained, in fluent Turkish, +that his sole object was to capture his evil child, who had escaped from +home. The guard did not understand the language of Turkey, and +persisted, explaining, in the tongue of Chicago, that he was acting +under orders, and that no "foreigner" could go in or out without proper +authority.</p> + +<p>"Permit! Permit! Pass! Pass! You must show your pass!" cried the guard. +"<i>Backsheesh</i>, you know."</p> + +<p>It was his sole Turkish word. He had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span> learned it since the Fair opened +from hearing it so often.</p> + +<p>"You bet!" responded Mustapha. It was his sole English word. "The +Prophet visit you with a murrain and total baldness!" he continued, in +his own vernacular. Then, seeing that Hassan, who was having a most +enjoyable time, was nearing a corner and about to disappear, he uttered +a wild shout of despair, and, thrusting the guard aside, darted through +the gate and after the child. His long petticoat waggled in the wind, +and blew behind him like a wet umbrella broken loose. The guard was so +convulsed with laughter that he could only stand still and hold his +sides. Two chairmen, who had trundled two ladies down the Plaisance to +the gate, were as much convulsed as he. Little Hassan ran for all he was +worth. His gown of drab cotton, as long, in proportion, as his father's, +switched and fluttered as he flew along. But longer legs<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span> always have +the advantage over shorter ones in a race. The pursuer gained on the +pursued. When Hassan saw that there was no hope, and he was bound to be +overtaken, he just flung himself down in a mud-puddle and kicked and +screamed. His exasperated parent pulled him up, and, with a shake, set +him on his feet. Hassan made his legs limp, and refused to walk; so +Mustapha tucked him under his arm, and strode back toward the Plaisance. +The guard was still too doubled up with laughter for speech, so he let +him pass unscolded. Once safely inside, Mustapha shifted his wet and +dirty little burden on to its feet, whirled aside the drab skirt, and, +with trenchant slaps, administered a brief but effectual American +spanking. He then conducted Hassan to his veiled mother in her +retirement, and intimated his pleasure that he should be made to undergo +a further penance.</p> + +<p>It was this same naughty little Turk who<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span> woke up at the same time with +the pink flamingo. He heard music and shouts, and saw the same strange +glow toward the southward which had startled the bird from its rest. His +father and mother had joined the motley throng of foreign folk of all +nationalities, garbs, and shades of complexion,—Arabs, Javanese, +Alaskans, Eskimos, South Sea Islanders, Cossacks, American Indians, and +East Indians, Chinese, and Dahomyans,—who had flocked out of the +Plaisance to see the spectacle. No one was left behind but the sleeping +children, and here was Hassan, no longer asleep, but very wide awake +indeed.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/gs03.jpg" width="400" height="642" alt="" title="" /> +<span class="caption">Down the esplanade sped the little figure.—<span class="smcap"><a href="#down">Page 191.</a></span></span> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span> +No time did he lose in hesitation; he knew in a moment what he wanted to +do. His queer little clothes were close at hand,—the drab gown, still +mud-stained from his run, the yellow slippers, the small fez for his +head. Into them he skipped, and, stepping out of the door, he ran down +the Plaisance, keeping on the shaded side as far as might be, for fear +of being stopped. He need not have been afraid; there was no one to stop +him. The great Woman's Building came in sight, with the outlines of the +still larger Horticultural beyond. <a name="down" id="down"></a>Down the esplanade sped the little +figure. The light grew more brilliant with every turn; more and more +people passed him, but all were pressing southward. And in a crowd like +this, nobody had time to notice the advent of such a very small Turk +among them. Hot and breathless after his long run, Hassan at last +emerged, as the pink flamingo had done, on the Court of Honor.</p> + +<p>Here his smallness proved an advantage to him, for he could crowd +himself into minute spaces in the living mass where a grown person could +not go, squeeze between people's legs, and wriggle and twist, all the +time pressing steadily forward, till at last he gained the parapet, and, +climbing up, seated himself comfortably on the top. Then his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span> eyes and +mouth opened simultaneously into an "Ahi!" of wonder, for close before +him was one of the electrical fountains, shooting blue and crimson +fires, and a little beyond shone the pulsating radiance of the dazzling +forms grouped above the Discoverer, the rearing horses, the winged shape +in the bow of the boat. Never before had anything so wonderful been seen +by our little Turk. The great basin twinkled with reflected lights, like +a starry sky set upside down; overhead the statues glittered; a round +silver moon hung above, and broad rays, like her own beams intensified +and set into motion, wandered to and fro from the search-light opposite, +darting now on a splendid façade, now on a towering dome, again on a +bridge packed with people, whose expectant faces were all turned +skyward, and, finally, on a great pink bird which was wheeling and +turning in the water.</p> + +<p>There was a sudden small splash.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span> +"Oh, oh!" shrieked a child's voice, in tones of distress, "my dolly's +fallen in! Mamma, Mamma, that was my dolly that fell in. She'll be all +drowned! Oh, my dolly!" Then the voice changed to one of amazement and +joy: "Oh, Mamma, see that bird! He has got her!"</p> + +<p>Coco had spied the doll as it fell, and, true to his early training, +dived after it as a matter of course, and came up with the doll in his +bill.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you good birdie! you dear birdie!" cried the little one, stretching +her arms over the parapet. "Let me have Dolly again, please, dear +birdie!"</p> + +<p>Coco understood only Flamingo, and had no idea what the little girl was +saying; but as a nibble or two had showed that the doll was not edible, +he made no resistance when a gentleman reached over from the edge of a +gondola and took it from his beak. It was handed back to its little +owner amid a great<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span> clapping and laughing, and Coco was given an Albert +biscuit instead, which he liked much better, and speedily disposed of. +He knew that the applause was meant for him, and, puffed up with pride, +sailed vain-gloriously to and fro, waiting another chance to distinguish +himself.</p> + +<p>It came! There was another and much louder splash as a small red-capped +figure toppled over into the water. It was Hassan, who, leaning over to +watch the wonderful bird, had lost his balance.</p> + +<p>No one laughed this time, and there was a general cry of "Oh, it was a +child! A child has fallen in! Save him, some one!" People shouted for +<a name="boat" id="boat"></a><ins title="Original has duplicated a">"a boat;"</ins> men pulled off their coats, making ready +for a plunge; women began to cry; then, all at once, there was a general +exclamation of astonishment and admiration.</p> + +<p>"The bird has got him" cried a hundred voices.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span> +It was again Coco! To dive after Hassan, to seize the drab skirt in his +beak, and bring the child again to the surface of the water, was an easy +feat to him; but to the excited multitudes upon the banks it seemed +well-nigh a miracle.</p> + +<p>"Never saw such a thing in my life!" declared a man on the bridge. +"Don't tell me that bird hasn't an intellect. No, sir! There ain't a man +here could have done that better, nor so well as that there pelican. He +is smart enough to vote, he is!"</p> + +<p>"Too smart," remarked his next neighbor. "He'd never stick to the +regular ticket; he'd have a mind of his own. That ain't the sort we want +over here. We want voters that don't have independent ideas, but just do +as the boss tells 'em."</p> + +<p>"That's pretty true, I reckon," replied the first man.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, Hassan was safe on shore. It had been for only one moment +that the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span> flamingo had needed to support his burden; then it was lifted +from him by a man in a boat, who took time to tell him that he was a +"first-rate fellow, a famous fellow, and ought to have a medal from the +Humane Society."</p> + +<p>"He <i>shall</i> have one!" declared an enthusiastic lady in the crowd. "I +will see to it myself." And the next morning she bought a souvenir +half-dollar, had "For a Brave Bird" engraved upon it, and a hole bored +in its rim, through which she ran a pink ribbon. This she carried over +to the Wooded Island, and, with the assistance of two Columbian guards, +captured Coco, and tied the ribbon firmly round his neck. He resisted +strenuously, and spent much time in trying to peck the decoration off; +but as time went on, and he became accustomed to it, and found that +wherever he went it made him conspicuous, and that the other birds +envied him the notice he attracted, he rather learned to like<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span> his +"medal;" and he wore it to the very end of the Columbian Exposition.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, as Fate willed it, the dripping Hassan was handed ashore +precisely at that point of the esplanade where stood his father and +mother! They had not seen the accident, nor understood that it was a boy +who had fallen in and been rescued by a bird; so when a wet little +object was set to drip almost at their feet, and they recognized in it +their own offspring, whom they supposed to be safely asleep at home, it +will be easily imagined that their wrath and astonishment knew no +bounds.</p> + +<p>"Ahi! child of sin, contaminated by the unbeliever, is it indeed thou?" +cried the irate Mustapha. "What djinnee, what imp of Eblis hath brought +thee here?"</p> + +<p>"He hath been in the water, Allah preserve us!" cried the more +tender-hearted mother. "He might have been drowned."</p> + +<p>"In the water! Nay, then; wherefore is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span> he not in bed where we left him? +We will see if this imp of evil be not taught to avoid the water in the +future. On my head be it if he is not, Inshallah!"</p> + +<p>So the weeping Hassan was led home by his family, his garments leaving a +trail of drip on the concrete all the way up the long distance; and in +the seclusion of the temporary harem he was caused to see the error of +his way.</p> + +<p>"Thou shalt be made to remember," declared his irate parent in the +pauses of discipline. "I will not have thee as the sons of these +infidels who despise correction, saying 'I will' and 'I will not,' and +are as a blemish and a darkening to the faces of their parents. The +Prophet rebuke me if I do! Inshallah!"</p> + +<p>But Coco, when the lights were put out and the great crowd streamed +away, leaving the Fair Grounds to silence and loneliness, and the +lagoons became again a soft land of shadows broken by reaches of +moonlight,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span> sailed back to his perch among the sedges with a calm and +satisfied mind. He had a right to be pleased with himself. Had he not +saved two "people," one very small and hard, and the other very big and +soft? Nothing whispered of that dreadful half-dollar which was coming on +the morrow to vex his spirit. No one said to <i>him</i> "Inshallah." He +tucked his head under his wing and went to sleep, a peaceful and +contented flamingo; and the moral is, "Be virtuous and you will be +happy."</p> + +<p class="link"><a href="#contents">Back to contents</a></p> + +<hr /> + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span> +<a name="xi" id="xi"></a>TWO PAIRS OF EYES.</h2> + + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 92px;"> +<img src="images/dropd.jpg" width="92" height="100" alt="Ornate capital "D"" title="" /> +</div> + +<p class="noi"><span class="hidden">D</span>ID it ever occur to you what a difference there is in the way in which +people use their eyes? I do not mean that some people squint, and some +do not; that some have short sight, and some long sight. These are +accidental differences; and the people who cannot see far, sometimes see +more, and more truly, than do other people whose vision is as keen as +the eagle's. No, the difference between people's eyes lies in the power +and the habit of observation.</p> + +<p>Did you ever hear of the famous conjurer Robert Houdin, whose wonderful +tricks and feats of magic were the astonishment of Europe a few years +ago? He tells us, in his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span> autobiography, that to see everything at a +glance, while seeming to see nothing, is the first requisite in the +education of a "magician," and that the faculty of noticing rapidly and +exactly can be trained like any other faculty. When he was fitting his +little son to follow the same profession, he used to take him past a +shop-window, at a quick walk, and then ask him how many objects in the +window he could remember and describe. At first, the child could only +recollect three or four; but gradually he rose to ten, twelve, twenty, +and, in the end, his eyes would note, and his memory retain, not less +than forty articles, all caught in the few seconds which it took to pass +the window at a rapid walk.</p> + +<p>It is so more or less with us all. Few things are more surprising than +the distinct picture which one mind will bring away from a place, and +the vague and blurred one which another mind will bring. Observation is +one<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span> of the valuable faculties, and the lack of it a fault which people +have to pay for, in various ways, all their lives.</p> + +<p>There were once two peasant boys in France, whose names were Jean and +Louis Cardilliac. They were cousins; their mothers were both widows, and +they lived close to each other in a little village, near a great forest. +They also looked much alike. Both had dark, closely shaven hair, olive +skins, and large, black eyes; but in spite of all their resemblances, +Jean was always spoken of as "lucky," and Louis as "unlucky," for +reasons which you will shortly see.</p> + +<p>If the two boys were out together, in the forest or the fields, they +walked along quite differently. Louis dawdled in a sort of loose-jointed +trot, with his eyes fixed on whatever happened to be in his hand,—a +sling, perhaps, or a stick, or one of those snappers with which birds +are scared away from fruit. If it were the stick, he cracked it as he +went, or<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span> he snapped the snapper, and he whistled, as he did so, in an +absent-minded way. Jean's black eyes, on the contrary, were always on +the alert, and making discoveries. While Louis stared and puckered his +lips up over the snapper or the sling, Jean would note, unconsciously +but truly, the form of the clouds, the look of the sky in the rainy +west, the wedge-shaped procession of the ducks through the air, and the +way in which they used their wings, the bird-calls in the hedge. He was +quick to mark a strange leaf, or an unaccustomed fungus by the path, or +any small article which had been dropped by the way. Once, he picked up +a five-franc piece; once, a silver pencil-case which belonged to the +<i>curé</i>, who was glad to get it again, and gave Jean ten sous by way of +reward. Louis would have liked ten sous very much, but somehow he never +found any pencil-cases; and it seemed hard and unjust when his mother +upbraided him for the fact, which, to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span> his thinking, was rather his +misfortune than his fault.</p> + +<p>"How can I help it?" he asked. "The saints are kind to Jean, and they +are not kind to me,—<i>voilà tout</i>!"</p> + +<p>"The saints help those who help themselves," retorted his mother. "Thou +art a look-in-the-air. Jean keeps his eyes open, he has wit, and he +notices."</p> + +<p>But such reproaches did not help Louis, or teach him anything. Habit is +so strong.</p> + +<p>"There!" cried his mother one day, when he came in to supper. "Thy +cousin—thy lucky cousin—has again been lucky. He has found a +truffle-bed, and thy aunt has sold the truffles to the man from Paris +for a hundred francs. A hundred francs! It will be long before thy +stupid fingers can earn the half of that!"</p> + +<p>"Where did Jean find the bed?" asked Louis.</p> + +<p>"In the oak copse near the brook, where<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span> thou mightest have found them +as easily as he," retorted his mother. "He was walking along with +Daudot, the wood cutter's dog—whose mother was a truffle-hunter—and +Daudot began to point and scratch; and Jean suspected something, got a +spade, dug, and crack! a hundred francs! Ah, <i>his</i> mother is to be +envied!"</p> + +<p>"The oak copse! Near the brook!" exclaimed Louis, too much excited to +note the reproach which concluded the sentence. "Why, I was there but +the other day with Daudot, and I remember now, he scratched and whined a +great deal, and tore at the ground. I didn't think anything about it at +the time."</p> + +<p>"Oh, thou little imbecile—thou stupid!" cried his mother, angrily. +"There were the truffles, and the first chance was for thee. Didn't +think anything about it! Thou never dost think, thou never wilt. Out of +my sight, and do not let me see thee again till bedtime."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span> +Supperless and disconsolate poor Louis slunk away. He called Daudot, and +went to the oak copse, resolved that if he saw any sign of excitement on +the part of the dog, to fetch a spade and instantly begin to dig. But +Daudot trotted along quietly, as if there were not a truffle left in +France, and the walk was fruitless.</p> + +<p>"If I had only," became a favorite sentence with Louis, as time went on. +"If I had only noticed this." "If I had only stopped then." But such +phrases are apt to come into the mind after something has been missed by +not noticing or not stopping, so they do little good to anybody.</p> + +<p>Did it ever occur to you that what people call "lucky chances," though +they seem to come suddenly, are in reality prepared for by a long +unconscious process of making ready on the part of those who profit by +them? Such a chance came at last to both Jean and Louis,—to Louis no +less than to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span> Jean; but one was prepared for it, and the other was not.</p> + +<p>Professor Sylvestre, a famous naturalist from Toulouse, came to the +forest village where the two boys lived, one summer. He wanted a boy to +guide him about the country, carry his plant-cases and herbals, and help +in his search after rare flowers and birds, and he asked Madame Collot, +the landlady of the inn, to recommend one. She named Jean and Louis; +they were both good boys, she said.</p> + +<p>So the professor sent for them to come and talk with him.</p> + +<p>"Do you know the forest well, and the paths?" he asked.</p> + +<p>Yes, both of them knew the forest very well.</p> + +<p>"Are there any woodpeckers of such and such a species?" he asked next. +"Have you the large lunar moth here? Can you tell me where to look for +<i>Campanila rhomboidalis</i>?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span> and he rapidly described the variety.</p> + +<p>Louis shook his head. He knew nothing of any of these things. But Jean +at once waked up with interest. He knew a great deal about +woodpeckers,—not in a scientific way, but with the knowledge of one who +has watched and studied bird habits. He had quite a collection of lunar +and other moths of his own, and though he did not recognize the rare +<i>Campanila</i> by its botanical title, he did as soon as the professor +described the peculiarities of the leaf and blossom. So M. Sylvestre +engaged him to be his guide so long as he stayed in the region, and +agreed to pay him ten francs a week. And Mother Cardilliac wrung her +hands, and exclaimed more piteously than ever over her boy's "ill luck" +and his cousin's superior good fortune.</p> + +<p>One can never tell how a "chance" may develop. Professor Sylvestre was +well off, and kind of heart. He had no children of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span> his own, and he was +devoted, above all other things, to the interest of science. He saw the +making of a first-rate naturalist in Jean Cardilliac, with his quick +eyes, his close observation, his real interest in finding out and making +sure. He grew to an interest in and liking for the boy, which ripened, +as the time drew near for him to return to his university, into an offer +to take Jean with him, and provide for his education, on the condition +that Jean, in return, should render him a certain amount of assistance +during his out-of-school hours. It was, in effect, a kind of adoption, +which might lead to almost anything; and Jean's mother was justified in +declaring, as she did, that his fortune was made.</p> + +<p>"And for thee, thou canst stay at home, and dig potatoes for the rest of +thy sorry life," lamented the mother of Louis. "Well, let people say +what they will, this is an unjust world; and, what is worse, the saints<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span> +look on, and do nothing to prevent it. Heaven forgive me if it is +blasphemous to speak so, but I cannot help it!"</p> + +<p>But it was neither "luck" nor "injustice." It was merely the difference +between "eyes and no eyes,"—a difference which will always exist and +always tell.</p> + +<p class="link"><a href="#contents">Back to contents</a></p> + +<hr /> + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span> +<a name="xii" id="xii"></a>THE PONY THAT KEPT THE STORE.</h2> + + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 94px;"> +<img src="images/dropi.jpg" width="94" height="100" alt="Ornate capital "I"" title="" /> +</div> + +<p class="noi"><span class="hidden">I</span>T was a shabby old store, built where two cross-roads and a lane met at +the foot of a low hill, and left between them a small triangular space +fringed with grass. On the hill stood a summer hotel, full of boarders +from the neighboring city; for the place was cool and airy, and a wide +expanse of sea and rocky islands, edged with beaches and wooded points, +stretched away from the hill's foot.</p> + +<p>In years gone by, the shabby old store had driven quite a flourishing +trade during the months of the year when the hotel was open. The +boarders went there for their ink and tacks; their sewing-silk and +shoe-buttons; for the orange marmalade and potted ham<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span> which they +carried on picnics; for the liquid blacking, which saved the boot-boy at +the hotel so much labor; the letter-paper, on which they wrote to their +friends what a good time they were having; and all the thousand and one +things of which people who have little to do with their time and money +fancy themselves in want. But a year before the time at which the events +I am about to relate took place, the owner of the store built himself a +new and better one at a place a mile further on, where there was a still +larger hotel and a group of cottages, and removed thither with his +belongings. The old building had stood empty for some months, and at +last was hired for a queer use,—namely, to serve as stable for a very +small Shetland pony, not much larger than a calf, or an extra large +Newfoundland dog.</p> + +<p>"Cloud" was the pony's name. He belonged to Ned Cabot, who was nine +years old, and was not only his pony, but his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span> intimate friend as well. +Ned loved him only the better for a terrible accident which had befallen +Cloud a few months before.</p> + +<p>The Cabots, who had been living on Lake Superior for a while, came back +to the East with all their goods and chattels, and among the rest, their +horses. It had been a question as to how little Cloud should travel; and +at last a box was built which could be set in a freight-car, and in +which, it was hoped, he would make the journey in safety. But accidents +sometimes happen even when the utmost care is taken, and, sad to relate, +Cloud arrived in Boston with his tiny foreleg broken.</p> + +<p>Horses' legs are hard to mend, you know; and generally when one breaks, +it is thought the easiest and cheapest way out of the trouble to shoot +the poor animal at once, and buy another to take his place. But the bare +mention of such a thing threw Ned into such paroxysms of grief, and he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span> +sobbed so dreadfully, that all his family made haste to assure him that +under no circumstances should Cloud be shot. Instead, he was sent to a +hospital,—not the Massachusetts General, I think, but something almost +as superior in its line, where animals are treated, and there the +surgeons slung him up, and put his leg into plaster, exactly as if he +had been a human being. Had he been a large, heavy horse, I suppose they +could hardly have done this; but being a little light pony, it was +possible. And the result was that the poor fellow got well, and was not +lamed in the least, which made his little master very happy. He loved +Cloud all the more for this great escape, and Cloud fully returned Ned's +affection. He was a rather over-indulged and overfed pony; but with Ned, +he was always a pattern of gentleness and propriety. Ned could lie flat +on his back and read story books by the hour without the least fear that +Cloud would jump or<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span> shy or shake him off. Far from it! Cloud would +graze quietly up and down, taking pains not to disturb the reading, only +turning his head now and then to see if Ned was comfortable, and when he +found him so, giving a little satisfied whinny, which seemed to say, +"Here we are, and what a time we are having!" Surely, no pony could be +expected to do better than that.</p> + +<p>So now little Cloud, with his foreleg quite mended and as strong as +ever, was the sole occupant of the roomy old country store. A little +stall had been partitioned off for him in a corner where there was a +window, out of which he could see the buckboards and cut-unders drive +by, and the daisies and long grass on the opposite slope blowing in the +fresh sea wind. Horses have curiosity, and like to look out of the +window and watch what is going on as well as people do.</p> + +<p>There were things inside the store that were worth looking at as well as +things outside.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span> When Mr. Harrison, the storekeeper, moved away, he +carried off most of his belongings, but a few articles he left behind, I +suppose because he did not consider them worth taking away. There were +two blue painted counters and some rough hanging shelves, a set of rusty +old scales and weights, a row of glass jars with a little dab of +something at the bottom of each,—rice, brown sugar, cream-of-tartar, +cracker crumbs, and fragments of ginger-snaps. There was also a bottle +half full of fermented olives, a paper parcel of musty corn flour, and, +greatest of all, a big triangle of cheese, blue with mould, in a round +red wooden box with wire sides, like an enormous mouse-trap. It was +quite a stock-in-trade for a pony, and Cloud had so much the air of +being in possession, that the smallest of the children at the hotel +always spoke of the place as his store. "I want to go down to Cloud's +store," they would say to their nurses.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span> +Ned and his sister Constance took a great deal of the care of the pony +on themselves. A freckled little country lad named Dick had been engaged +to feed and clean him; but he so often ran away from his work that the +children were never easy in their minds for fear lest Cloud had been +forgotten and was left supperless or with no bed to lie upon. Almost +always, and especially on Sunday nights, when he of the freckles was +most apt to absent himself, they would coax their mother to let them run +down the last thing and make sure that all was right. If it were not, +Ned would turn to, and Constance also, to feed and bed the pony; they +were both strong and sturdy, and could do the work very well, only +Constance always wanted to braid his mane to make it kink, and Ned would +never let her; so they sometimes ended with quarrelling.</p> + +<p>One day in August it happened that Ned's father and mother, his big +brother, his two<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span> sisters, and, in fact, most of the grown people in the +hotel, went off on a picnic to White Gull Island, which was about seven +miles out to sea. They started at ten in the morning, with a good +breeze, and a load of very attractive-looking lunch-baskets; but at noon +the wind died down, and did not spring up again, and when Ned's bedtime +came, they had still not returned. Their big sail could be seen far out +beyond the islands. They were rowing the boat, Mr. Gale, the +hotel-keeper, said; but unless the wind came up, he did not think they +would be in much before midnight.</p> + +<p>Ned had not gone with the others. He had hurt his foot a day or two +before, and his mother thought climbing rocks would be bad for it. He +had cried a little when Constance and the rest sailed away, but had soon +been consoled. Mrs. Cabot had arranged a series of treats for him, a row +with Nurse, a sea-bath, a new story-book, and had asked a little boy he +liked to come over from the other hotel<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span> and spend the afternoon on the +beach. There had been the surprise of a box of candy and two big +peaches. Altogether, the day had gone happily, and it was not till Nurse +had put Ned to bed and gone off to a "praise meeting" in the Methodist +chapel, that it occurred to him to feel lonely.</p> + +<p>He lay looking out at sea, which was lit by the biggest and whitest moon +ever seen. Far away he could catch the shimmer of the idle sail, which +seemed scarcely nearer than it had done at supper-time.</p> + +<p>"I wish Mamma were here to kiss me for good-night," reflected Ned, +rather dismally. "I don't feel sleepy a bit, and it isn't nice to have +them all gone."</p> + +<p>From the foot of the hill came a sound of small hoofs stamping +impatiently. Then a complaining whinny was heard. Ned sat up in bed. +Something was wrong with Cloud, he was sure.</p> + +<p>"It's that bad Dick. He's gone off and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span> forgotten to give Cloud any +supper," thought Ned. Then he called "Mary! Ma-ry!" several times, +before he remembered that Mary was gone to the praise meeting.</p> + +<p>"I don't care!" he said aloud. "I'm not going to let my Cloudy starve +for anybody."</p> + +<p>So he scrambled out of bed, found his shoes, and hastily put on some of +the clothes which Mary had just taken off and folded up. There was no +one on the piazza to note the little figure as it sped down the slope. +Everybody was off enjoying the moonlight in some way or other.</p> + +<p>It was, indeed, as Ned had suspected. Dick of the freckles had gone +fishing and forgotten Cloud altogether. The moon shone full through the +eastern windows of the store, making it almost as light as day, and Ned +had no trouble in finding the hay and the water-pail. He watched the +pony as he hungrily champed and chewed the sweet-smelling heap and +sucked up the water, then he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span> brushed out his stall, and scattered +straw, and then sat down "for a minute," as he told himself, to rest and +watch Cloud go to sleep. It was very pleasant in the old store, he +thought.</p> + +<p>Presently Cloud lay down on the straw too, and cuddled close up to Ned, +who patted and stroked him. Ned thought he was asleep, he lay so still. +But after a little while Cloud stirred and got up, first on his forelegs +and then altogether. He stood a moment watching Ned, who pretended to be +sleeping, then he opened the slatted door of his stall, moved gently +across the floor and went in behind the old blue counter.</p> + +<p>"What <i>is</i> he going to do?" thought Ned. "I never saw anything so funny. +Constance will never believe when I tell her about it."</p> + +<p>What Cloud did was to take one of the glass jars from the shelf in his +teeth, and set it on the counter. It was the one which held the +gingersnap crumbs. Cloud lifted<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span> off the lid. Just then a clatter of +hoofs was heard outside, and another horse came in. Ned knew the horse +in a minute. It was the yellow one which Mr. Gale drove in his +buckboard.</p> + +<p>The yellow horse trotted up to the counter, and he and Cloud talked +together for a few minutes. It was in pony language, and Ned could not +understand what they said; but it had to do with the gingersnaps, +apparently, for Cloud poured part of them out on the counter, and the +buckboard horse greedily licked them up. Then he gave Cloud something by +way of payment. Ned could not see what, but it seemed to be a nail out +of his hind shoe, and then tiptoed out of the store and across the road +to the field where the horses grazed, while Cloud opened a drawer at the +back of the counter and threw in the nail, if it was one. It <i>sounded</i> +like a nail.</p> + +<p>He had scarcely done so when more hoofs<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span> sounded, and two other horses +came in. Horse one was the bay which went with the yellow in the +buckboard, the other Mr. Gale's sorrel colt, which he allowed no one to +drive except himself. Cloud seemed very glad to see them. And such a +lively chorus went on across the counter of whinnies and snorts and +splutters, accompanied with such emphatic stamps, that Ned shrank into a +dark corner, and did not dare to laugh aloud, though he longed to as he +peeped between the bars.</p> + +<p>The sorrel colt seemed to want a great many things. He evidently had the +shopping instinct. Cloud lifted down all the jars, one by one, and the +colt sampled their contents. The cream-of-tartar he did not like at all; +but he ate all the brown sugar and the cracker crumbs, tasted an olive +and let it drop with a disgusted neigh, and lastly took a bite of the +mouldy cheese in the red trap, and expressed his opinion of it by what +seemed to be a "swear-word." Then he and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span> the bay-horse and Cloud went +to the end of the store where a rusty old stove without any pipe stood, +sat down on their haunches before it, put their forelegs on its top, and +began, as it seemed, to discuss politics; at least, it sounded +wonderfully like the conversation that had gone on in that very corner +in Mr. Harrison's day, when the farmers collected to predict the defeat +of the candidate on the other side, whoever he might be.</p> + +<p>They talked so long that Ned grew very sleepy, and lay down again on the +straw. He felt that he ought to go home and to bed, but he did not quite +dare. The strange horses might take offence at his being there, he +thought; still, he had a comfortable feeling that as Cloud's friend they +would not do him any real harm. Even when, as it seemed, one of them +came into the stall, took hold of his shoulder, and began to shake him +violently, he was not really frightened.</p> + +<p>"Don't!" he said sleepily. "I won't<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span> tell anybody. Cloud knows me. I'm a +friend of his."</p> + +<p>"Ned! wake up! Ned! wake up!" said some one. Was it the red horse?</p> + +<p>No, it was his father. And there was Mamma on the other side of him. And +there was Cloud lying on the straw close by, pretending to be asleep, +but with one eye half open!</p> + +<p>"Wake up!" said Papa; "here it is, after eleven o'clock, and Mamma half +frightened to death at getting home and not finding you in your bed. How +did you come down here, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Cloud was crying for his supper, and I came down to feed him," +explained Ned. "And then I stayed to watch him keep store. Oh, it was so +funny, Mamma! The other horses came and bought things, and Cloud was +just like a real storekeeper, and sold crackers to them, and sugar, and +took the money—no, it was nails, I think."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span> +"My dear, you have been dreaming," said Mrs. Cabot. "Don't let him talk +any more, John. He is all excited now, and won't sleep if you do."</p> + +<p>So, though Ned loudly protested that he had not been asleep at all, and +so could not have dreamed, he was put to bed at once, and no one would +listen to him. And next day it was just as bad, for all of them, +Constance as well as the rest, insisted that Ned had fallen asleep in +the pony's stall and dreamed the whole thing. Even when he opened the +drawer at the back of the counter and showed them the shoe-nail that +Cloud had dropped in, they would not believe. There was nothing +remarkable in there being a nail there, they said; all sorts of things +were put in the drawers of country stores.</p> + +<p>But Ned and Cloud knew very well that it was not a dream.</p> + +<p class="link"><a href="#contents">Back to contents</a></p> + +<hr /> + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span> +<a name="xiii" id="xiii"></a>PINK AND SCARLET.</h2> + + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 110px;"> +<img src="images/dropquotei.jpg" width="110" height="100" alt="Ornate capital ""I"" title="" /> +</div> + +<p class="noi"><span class="hidden">"I</span>T'S the most perfect beauty that ever was!"</p> + +<p>"Pshaw! you always say that. It's not a bit prettier than Mary's."</p> + +<p>"Yes, it is."</p> + +<p>"No, indeed, it isn't."</p> + +<p>The subject of dispute was a parasol,—a dark blue one, trimmed with +fringe, and with an ivory handle. The two little girls who were +discussing it were Alice Hoare and her sister Madge. It was Madge's +birthday, and the parasol was one of her presents.</p> + +<p>The dispute continued.</p> + +<p>"I wish you wouldn't always say that your things are better than any one +else's,"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span> said Alice. "It's ex-exaspering to talk like that, and Mamma +said when we exasperated it was almost as bad as telling lies."</p> + +<p>"She didn't say "exasperate." That wasn't the word at all; and this is +the sweetest, dearest, most perfectly beautiful parasol in the world, a +great deal prettier than your green one."</p> + +<p>"Yes, so it is," confessed candid Alice. "Mine is quite old now. This is +younger, and, besides, the top of mine is broken off. But yours isn't +really any prettier than Mary's."</p> + +<p>"It is too! It's a great deal more beautiful and a great deal more +fascinating."</p> + +<p>"What is that which is so fascinating?" asked their sister Mary, coming +into the room. "The new parasol? My! that is strong language to use +about a parasol. It should at least be an umbrella, I think. See, Madge, +here is another birthday gift."</p> + +<p>It was a gilt cage, with a pair of Java sparrows.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span> "Oh, lovely! +delicious!" cried Madge, jumping up and down. "I think this is the best +birthday that ever was! Are they from you, Mary, darling? Thank you ever +so much! They are the most perfectly beautiful things I ever saw."</p> + +<p>"The parasol was the most beautiful just now," observed Alice.</p> + +<p>"Oh, these are much beautifuller than that, because they are alive," +replied Madge, giving her oldest sister a rapturous squeeze.</p> + +<p>"I wish you'd make me a birthday present in return," said Mary. "I wish +you'd drop that bad habit of exaggerating everything you like, and +everything you don't like. All your 'bads' are 'dreadfuls,'—all your +pinks are scarlets."</p> + +<p>"I don't know what you mean," said Madge, puzzled and offended.</p> + +<p>"It's only what Mamma has often spoken to you about, dear Madgie. It is +saying more than is quite true, and more than you quite<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span> feel. I am sure +you don't mean to be false, but people who are not used to you might +think you so."</p> + +<p>"It's because I like things so much."</p> + +<p>"No, for when you don't like them, it's just as bad. I have heard you +say fifty times, at least, 'It is the horridest thing I ever saw,' and +you know there couldn't be fifty 'horridest' things."</p> + +<p>"But you all know what I mean."</p> + +<p>"Well, we can guess, but you ought to be more exact. And, besides, Papa +says if we use up all our strong words about little every-day things, we +sha'n't have any to use when we are talking about really great things. +If you call a heavy muffin 'awful,' what are you going to say about an +earthquake or tornado?"</p> + +<p>"We don't have any earthquakes in Groton, and I don't ever mean to go to +places where they do," retorted Madge, triumphantly.</p> + +<p>"Madge, how bad you are!" cried little<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span> Alice. "You ought to promise +Mary right away, because it's your birthday."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'll try," said Madge. But she did not make the promise with much +heart, and she soon forgot all about it. It seemed to her that Mary was +making a great fuss about a small thing.</p> + +<p>Are there any small things? Sometimes I am inclined to doubt it. A +fever-germ can only be seen under the microscope, but think what a +terrible work it can do. The avalanche, in its beginning, is only a few +moving particles of snow; the tiny spring feeds the brook, which in turn +feeds the river; the little evil, unchecked, grows into the habit which +masters the strongest man. All great things begin in small things; and +these small things which are to become we know not what, should be +important in our eyes.</p> + +<p>Madge Hoare meant to be a truthful child; but little by little, and day +by day, her perception of what truth really is, was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span> being worn away by +the habit of exaggeration.</p> + +<p>"Perfectly beautiful," "perfectly horrible," "perfectly dreadful," +"perfectly fascinating," such were the mild terms which she daily used +to describe the most ordinary things,—apples, rice puddings, arithmetic +lessons, gingham dresses, and, as we have seen, blue parasols! And the +habit grew upon her, as habits will. When she needed stronger language +than usual, things had to be "horrider" than horrid, and "beautifuller" +than beautiful. And the worst of it was, that she was all the time half +conscious of her own insincerity, and that, to use Mary's favorite +figure, she <i>meant</i> pink, but she <i>said</i> scarlet.</p> + +<p>The family fell so into the habit of making mental allowances and +deductions for all Madge's statements that sometimes they fell into the +habit of not believing enough. "It is only Madge!" they would say, and +so dismiss the subject from their minds. This careless<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span> disbelief vexed +and hurt Madge very often, but it did not hurt enough to cure her. One +day, however, it did lead to something which she could not help +remembering.</p> + +<p>It was warm weather still, although September, and Ernest, the little +baby brother, whom Madge loved best of all the children, was playing one +morning in the yard by himself. Madge was studying an "awful" arithmetic +lesson upstairs at the window. She could not see Ernest, who was making +a sand-pie directly beneath her; but she did see an old woman peer over +the fence, open the gate, and steal into the yard.</p> + +<p>"What a horrid-looking old woman!" thought Madge. "The multiple of +sixteen added to—Oh, bother! what an awful sum this is!" She forgot the +old woman for a few moments, then she again saw her going out of the +yard, and carrying under her cloak what seemed to be a large bundle. The +odd thing was, that the bundle seemed to have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span> legs, and to kick; or was +it the wind blowing the old woman's cloak about?</p> + +<p>Madge watched the old woman out of sight with a puzzled and +half-frightened feeling. "Could she have stolen anything?" she asked +herself; and at last she ran downstairs to see. Nothing seemed missing +from the hall, only Ernie's straw hat lay in the middle of the gravel +walk.</p> + +<p>"Mamma!" cried Madge, bursting into the library where her mother was +talking to a visitor. "There has been the most perfectly horrible old +woman in our yard that I ever saw. She was so awful-looking that I was +afraid she had been stealing something. Did you see her, Mamma?"</p> + +<p>"My dear, all old women are awful in your eyes," said Mrs. Hoare, +calmly. "This was old Mrs. Shephard, I presume. I told her to come for a +bundle of washing. Run away now, Madge, I am busy."</p> + +<p>Madge went, but she still did not feel satisfied.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span> The more she thought +about the old woman, the more she was sure that it was not old Mrs. +Shephard. She went with her fears to Mary.</p> + +<p>"She was just like a gypsy," she explained, "or a horrible old witch. +Her hair stuck out so, and she had the awfullest face! I am almost sure +she stole something, and carried it away under her shawl, sister."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense!" said Mary, who was drawing, and not inclined to disturb +herself for one of Madge's "cock-and-bull" stories. "It was only one of +Mamma's old goodies, you may be sure. Don't you recollect what a fright +you gave us about the robber, who turned out to be a man selling apples; +and that other time, when you were certain there was a bear in the +garden, and it was nothing but Mr. Price's big Newfoundland?"</p> + +<p>"But this was quite different; it really was. This old woman was really +awful."</p> + +<p>"Your old women always are," replied<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span> Mary, unconcernedly, going on with +her sketch.</p> + +<p>No one would attend to Madge's story, no one sympathized with her alarm. +She was like the boy who cried "Wolf!" so often that, when the real wolf +came, no one heeded his cries. But the family roused from their +indifference, when, an hour later, Nurse came to ask where Master Ernie +could be, and search revealed the fact that he was nowhere about the +premises. Madge and her old woman were treated with greater respect +then. Papa set off for the constable, and Jim drove rapidly in the +direction which the old woman was taking when last seen. Poor Mrs. Hoare +was terribly anxious and distressed.</p> + +<p>"I blame myself for not attending at once to what Madge said," she told +Mary. "But the fact is that she exaggerates so constantly that I have +fallen into the habit of only half listening to her. If it had been +Alice, it would have been quite different."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span> +Madge overheard Mamma say this, and she crept away to her own room, and +cried as if her heart would break.</p> + +<p>"If Ernie is never found, it will all be my fault," she thought. "Nobody +believes a word that I say. But they would have believed if Alice had +said it, and Mary would have run after that wicked old woman, and got +dear baby away from her. Oh dear, how miserable I am!"</p> + +<p>Madge never forgot that long afternoon and that wretched night. Mamma +did not go to bed at all, and none of them slept much. It was not till +ten o'clock the next morning that Papa and Jim came back, bringing—oh, +joy!—little Ernie with them, his pretty hair all tangled and his rosy +cheeks glazed with crying, but otherwise unhurt. He had been found +nearly ten miles away, locked in a miserable cottage by the old woman, +who had taken off his nice clothes and dressed him in a ragged frock. +She had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span> left him there while she went out to beg, or perhaps to make +arrangements for carrying him farther out of reach; but she had given +him some bread and milk for supper and breakfast, and the little fellow +was not much the worse for his adventure; and after a bath and a +re-dressing, and after being nearly kissed to death by the whole family, +he went to sleep in his own crib very comfortably.</p> + +<p>"Papa," said Madge that night, "I never mean to exaggerate any more as +long as I live. I mean to say exactly what I think, only not so much, so +that you shall all have confidence in me. And then, next time baby is +stolen, you will all believe what I say."</p> + +<p>"I hope there will never be any 'next time,'" observed her mother; "but +I shall have to be glad of what happened this time, if it really cures +you of such a bad habit, my little Madge."</p> + +<p class="link"><a href="#contents">Back to contents</a></p> + +<hr /> + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span> +<a name="xiv" id="xiv"></a>DOLLY'S LESSON.</h2> + + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 114px;"> +<img src="images/dropquotew.jpg" width="114" height="100" alt="Ornate capital ""W"" title="" /> +</div> + +<p class="noi"><span class="hidden">"W</span>HAT is presence of mind, any way?" demanded little Dolly Ware, as she +sat, surrounded by her family, watching the sunset.</p> + +<p>The sunset hour is best of all the twenty-four in Nantucket. At no other +time is the sea so blue and silvery, or the streaks of purple and pale +green which mark the place of the sand-spits and shallows that underlie +the island waters so defined, or of such charming colors. The wind blows +across softly from the south shore, and brings with it scents of heath +and thyme, caught from the high upland moors above the town. The sun +dips down, and sends a flash of glory to the zenith; and small pink +clouds curl up about the rising moon, fondle her, as it were, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span> seem +to love her. It is a delightful moment, and all Nantucket dwellers learn +to watch for it.</p> + +<p>It was the custom of the Ware family, as soon as they had despatched +their supper,—a very hearty supper, suited to young appetites sharpened +by sea air;—of chowder, or hot lobster, or a newly caught blue-fish, +with piles of brown bread and butter, and unlimited milk,—to rush out +<i>en masse</i> to the piazza of their little cottage, and "attend to the +sunset," as though it were a family affair. It was the hour when jokes +were cracked and questions asked, and when Mamma, who was apt to be +pretty busy during the daytime, had leisure to answer them.</p> + +<p>Dolly was youngest of the family,—a thin, wiry child, tall for her +years, with a brown bang lying like a thatch over a pair of bright +inquisitive eyes, and a thick pig-tail braided down her back. Phyllis, +the next in age, was short and fat; then came<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span> Harry, then Erma, just +sixteen (named after a German great-grandmother), and, last of all, +Jack, tallest and jolliest of the group, who had just "passed his +preliminaries," and would enter college next year. Mrs. Ware might be +excused for the little air of motherly pride with which she gazed at her +five. They were fine children, all of them,—frank, affectionate, +generous, with bright minds and healthy bodies.</p> + +<p>"Presence of mind sometimes means absence of body," remarked Jack, in +answer to Dolly's question.</p> + +<p>"I was speaking to Mamma," said Dolly, with dignity. "I wasn't asking +you."</p> + +<p>"I am aware of the fact, but I overlooked the formality, for once. What +makes you want to know, midget?"</p> + +<p>"There was a story in the paper about a girl who hid the kerosene can +when the new cook came, and it said she showed true presence of mind," +replied Dolly.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span> +"Oh, that was only fun! It didn't mean anything."</p> + +<p>"Isn't there any such thing, then?"</p> + +<p>"Why, of course there is. Picking up a shell just before it bursts in a +hospital tent, and throwing it out of the door, is presence of mind."</p> + +<p>"Yes, and tying a string round the right place on your leg when you've +cut an artery," added Harry, eagerly.</p> + +<p>"Swallowing a quart of whiskey when a rattlesnake bites you," suggested +Jack.</p> + +<p>"Saving the silver, instead of the waste-paper basket, when the house is +on fire," put in Erma.</p> + +<p>Dolly looked from one to the other.</p> + +<p>"What funny things!" she cried. "I don't believe you know anything about +it. Mamma, tell me what it really means."</p> + +<p>"I think," said Mrs. Ware, in those gentle tones to which her children +always listened, "that presence of mind means keeping cool,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span> and having +your wits about you, at critical moments. Our minds—our reasoning +faculties, that is—are apt to be stunned or shocked when we are +suddenly frightened or excited; they leave us, and go away, as it were, +and it is only afterward that we pick ourselves up, and realize what we +ought to have done. To act coolly and sensibly in the face of danger is +a fine thing, and one to be proud of."</p> + +<p>"Should you be proud of me if I showed presence of mind?" asked Dolly, +leaning her arms on her mother's lap.</p> + +<p>"Very proud," replied Mrs. Ware, smiling as she stroked the brown +head,—"very proud, indeed."</p> + +<p>"I mean to do it," said Dolly, in a firm tone.</p> + +<p>There was a general laugh.</p> + +<p>"How will you go to work?" asked Jack. "Shall I step down to Hussey's, +and get a shell for you to practise on?"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span> +"She'll be setting the house on fire some night, to show what she can +do," added Harry, teasingly.</p> + +<p>"I shall do no such thing," protested Dolly, indignantly. "How foolish +you are! You don't understand a bit! I don't want to make things happen; +but, if they do happen, I shall try to keep cool and have my wits about +me, and perhaps I shall."</p> + +<p>"It would be lovely to be brave and do heroic things," remarked Phyllis.</p> + +<p>"You could at least be brave enough to use your common sense," said her +mother. "Yours is a very good resolution, Dolly dear, and I hope you'll +keep to it."</p> + +<p>"I will," said Dolly, and marched undauntedly off to bed. Later, she +found herself repeating, as if it were a lesson to be learned, "Presence +of mind means keeping cool, and having your wits about you;" and she +said it over and over every morning and evening after that, as she +braided her hair.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span> Phyllis overheard, and laughed at her a little; but +Dolly didn't mind being laughed at, and kept on rehearsing her sentence +all the same.</p> + +<p>It is not given to all of us to test ourselves, and discover by actual +experiment just how much a mental resolution has done for us. Dolly, +however, was to have the chance. The bathing-beach at Nantucket is a +particularly safe one, and the water through the summer months most warm +and delicious. All the children who lived on the sandy bluff known as +"The Cliff" were in the habit of bathing; and the daily dip taken in +company was the chief event of the day, in their opinion. The little +Wares all swam like ducks; and no one thought of being nervous or +apprehensive if Harry struck out boldly for the jetty, or if Erma and +Phyllis were seen side by side at a point far beyond the depth of either +of them, or little Dolly took a "header" into deep water off an old +boat.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span> +It happened, about two months after the talk on the piazza, that Dolly +was bathing with Kitty Allen, a small neighbor of her own age. Kitty had +just been learning to swim, and was very proud of her new +accomplishment; but she was by no means so sure of herself or so much at +home in the water as Dolly, who had learned three years before, and +practised continually.</p> + +<p>The two children had swam out for quite a distance; then, as they turned +to go back, Kitty suddenly realized her distance from the shore, and was +seized with immediate and paralyzing terror.</p> + +<p>"Oh, oh!" she gasped. "How far out we are! We shall never get back in +the world! We shall be drowned! Dolly Ware, we shall certainly be +drowned!"</p> + +<p>She made a vain clutch at Dolly, and, with a wild scream, went down, and +disappeared.</p> + +<p>Dolly dived after her, only to be met by Kitty coming up to the surface +again, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span> frantically reaching out, as drowning persons do, for +something to hold by. The first thing she touched was Dolly's large +pig-tail, and, grasping that tight, she sank again, dragging Dolly down +with her, backward.</p> + +<p>It was really a hazardous moment. Many a good swimmer has lost his life +under similar circumstances. Nothing is more dangerous than to be caught +and held by a person who cannot swim, or who is too much disabled by +fear to use his powers.</p> + +<p>And now it was that Dolly's carefully conned lesson about presence of +mind came to her aid. "Keep cool; have your wits about you," rang +through her ears, as, held in Kitty's desperate grasp, she was dragged +down, down into the sea. A clear sense of what she ought to do flashed +across her mind. She must escape from Kitty and hold her up, but not +give Kitty any chance to drag her down again. As they rose, she pulled +her hair away with a sudden motion,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span> and seized Kitty by the collar of +her bathing-dress, behind.</p> + +<p>"Float, and I'll hold you up," she gasped. "If you try to catch hold of +me again, I'll just swim off, and leave you, and then you <i>will</i> be +drowned, Kitty Allen."</p> + +<p>Kitty was too far gone to make any very serious struggle. Then Dolly, +striking out strongly, and pushing Kitty before her, sent one wild cry +for help toward the beach.</p> + +<p>The cry was heard. It seemed to Dolly a terribly long time before any +answer came, but it was in reality less than five minutes before a boat +was pushed into the water. Dolly saw it rowing toward her, and held on +bravely. "Be cool; have your wits about you," she said to herself. And +she kept firm grasp of her mind, and would not let the fright, of whose +existence she was conscious, get possession of her.</p> + +<p>Oh, how welcome was the dash of the oars close at hand, how gladly she +relinquished<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span> Kitty to the strong arms that lifted her into the boat! +But when the men would have helped her in too, she refused.</p> + +<p>"No, thank you; I'll swim!" she said. It seemed nothing to get herself +to shore, now that the responsibility of Kitty and Kitty's weight were +taken from her. She swam pluckily along, the boat keeping near, lest her +strength should give out, and reached the beach just as Jack, that +moment aware of the situation, was dashing into the water after her. She +was very pale, but declared herself not tired at all, and she dressed +and marched sturdily up the cliff, refusing all assistance.</p> + +<p>There was quite a little stir among the summer colony over the +adventure, and Mrs. Ware had many compliments paid her for her child's +behavior. Mr. Allen came over, and had much to say about the +extraordinary presence of mind which Dolly had shown.</p> + +<p>"It was really remarkable," he said. "If<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span> she had fought with Kitty, or +if she had tried to swim ashore and had not called for assistance, they +might easily have both been drowned. It is extraordinary that a child of +that age should keep her head, and show such coolness and decision."</p> + +<p>"It wasn't remarkable at all," Dolly declared, as soon as he was gone. +"It was just because you said that on the piazza that night."</p> + +<p>"Said what?"</p> + +<p>"Why, Mamma, surely you haven't forgotten. It was that about presence of +mind, you know. I taught it to myself, and have said it over and over +ever since,—'Keep cool; have your wits about you.' I said it in the +water when Kitty was pulling me under."</p> + +<p>"Did you, really?"</p> + +<p>"Indeed, I did. And then I seemed to know what to do."</p> + +<p>"Well, it was a good lesson," said Mrs. Ware, with glistening eyes. "I +am glad<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span> and thankful that you learned it when you did, Dolly."</p> + +<p>"Are you proud of me?" demanded Dolly.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I am proud of you."</p> + +<p>This capped the climax of Dolly's contentment. Mamma was proud of her; +she was quite satisfied.</p> + +<p class="link"><a href="#contents">Back to contents</a></p> + +<hr /> + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span> +<a name="xv" id="xv"></a>A BLESSING IN DISGUISE.</h2> + + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 94px;"> +<img src="images/dropi.jpg" width="94" height="100" alt="Ornate capital "I"" title="" /> +</div> + +<p class="noi"><span class="hidden">I</span>T was a dark day for Patty Flint when her father, with that curt +severity of manner which men are apt to assume to mask an inward +awkwardness, announced to her his intention of marrying for the second +time.</p> + +<p>"Tell the others after I am gone out," he concluded.</p> + +<p>"But, Papa, do explain a little more to me before you go," protested +Patty. "Who is this Miss Maskelyne? What kind of a person is she? Must +we call her mother?"</p> + +<p>"Well—we'll leave that to be settled later on. Miss Maskelyne is +a—a—well, a very nice person indeed, Patty. She'll make us all very +comfortable."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span> +"We always have been comfortable, I'm sure," said Patty, in an injured +tone.</p> + +<p>Dr. Flint instinctively cast a look around the room. It <i>was</i> +comfortable, certainly, so far as neatness and sufficient furniture and +a hot fire in an air-tight stove can make a room comfortable. There was +a distinct lack of anything to complain of, yet something seemed to him +lacking. What was it? His thoughts involuntarily flew to a room which he +had quitted only the day before, no larger, no sunnier, not so well +furnished, and which yet, to his mind, seemed full of a refinement and +homelikeness which he missed in his own, though, man-like, he could have +in no wise explained what went to produce it.</p> + +<p>His rather stern face relaxed with a half-smile; his eyes seemed to seek +out a picture far away. But Patty was watching him,—an observant, +decidedly aggrieved Patty, who had done her best for him since her +mother died, and a good best too, her age considered,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span> and who was not +inexcusable in disliking to be supplanted by a stranger. Poor Patty! But +even for Patty's sake it was better so, the father reflected, looking at +the prim, opinionated little figure before him, and noting how all the +childishness and girlishness seemed to have faded out of it during three +years of responsibility. She certainly had managed wonderfully for a +child of fifteen, and his voice was very kind as he said, "Yes, my dear, +so we have. You've been a good girl, Patty, and done your best for us +all; but you're young to have so much care, and when the new mother +comes, she will relieve you of it, and leave you free to occupy and +amuse yourself as other girls of your age do."</p> + +<p>He kissed Patty as he finished speaking. Kisses were not such every-day +matters in the Flint family as to be unimportant, and Patty, with all +her vexation, could not but be gratified. Then he hurried away, and, +after watching till his gig turned the corner, she went<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span> slowly upstairs +to the room where the children were learning their Sunday-school +lessons.</p> + +<p>There were three besides herself,—Susy and Agnes, aged respectively +twelve and ten; and Hal, the only boy, who was not quite seven. This +hour of study in the middle of Saturday morning was deeply resented by +them all; but Patty's rules were like the laws of the Medes and +Persians, which alter not, and they dared not resist. They had solaced +the tedium of the occasion by a contraband game of checkers during her +absence, but had pushed the board under the flounce of the sofa when +they heard her steps, and flown back to their tasks. Over-discipline +often leads to little shuffles and deceptions like this, and Patty, who +loved authority for authority's sake, was not always wise in enforcing +it.</p> + +<p>"When you have got through with your lessons, I have something to tell +you," was her beginning.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[256]</a></span> +It was an indiscreet one; for of course the children at once protested +that they were through! How could they be expected to interest +themselves in the "whole duty of man," with a secret obviously in the +air.</p> + +<p>"Very well, then," said Patty, indulgently,—for she was dying to tell +her news,—"Papa has just asked me to say to you that he is—is—going +to be married to a lady in New Bedford."</p> + +<p>"Married!" cried Agnes, with wide-open eyes. "How funny! I thought only +people who are young got married. Can we go to the wedding, do you +suppose, Patty?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, perhaps we shall be bridesmaids! I'd like that," added Susy.</p> + +<p>"And have black cake in little white boxes, just as many as we want. +Goody!" put in Hal.</p> + +<p>"Oh, children, how can you talk so?" cried Patty, all her half-formed +resolutions of keeping silence and not letting the others know<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[257]</a></span> how she +felt about it flying to the winds. "Do you really want a stepmother to +come in and scold and interfere and spoil all our comfort? Do you want +some one else to tell you what to do, and make you mind, instead of me? +You're too little to know about such things, but I know what stepmothers +are. I read about them in a book once, and they're dreadful creatures, +and always hate the children, and try to make their Papas hate them too. +It will be awful to have one, I think."</p> + +<p>Patty was absolutely crying as she finished this outburst; and, emotion +being contagious, the little ones began to cry also.</p> + +<p>"Why does Papa want to marry her, if she's so horrid?" sobbed Agnes.</p> + +<p>"I'll never love her!" declared Susy.</p> + +<p>"And I'll set my wooden dog on her!" added Hal.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Hal," protested Patty, alarmed at the effect of her own injudicious +explosion, "don't talk like that! We mustn't be rude to her.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[258]</a></span> Papa +wouldn't like it. Of course, we needn't love her, or tell her things, or +call her 'mother,' but we <i>must</i> be polite to her."</p> + +<p>"I don't know what you mean exactly, but I'm not going to be it, +anyway," said Agnes.</p> + +<p>And, indeed, Patty's notion of a politeness which was to include neither +liking nor confidence nor respect <i>was</i> rather a difficult one to +comprehend.</p> + +<p>None of the children went to the wedding, which was a very quiet one. +Patty declared that she was glad; but in her heart I think she regretted +the loss of the excitement, and the opportunity for criticism. A big +loaf of thickly frosted sponge cake arrived for the children, with some +bon-bons, and a kind little note from the bride; and these offerings +might easily have placated the younger ones, had not Patty diligently +fanned the embers of discontent and kept them from dying out.</p> + +<p>And all the time she had no idea that she was doing wrong. She felt +ill-treated and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[259]</a></span> injured, and her imagination played all sorts of +unhappy tricks. She made pictures of the future, in which she saw +herself neglected and unloved, her little sisters and brother +ill-treated, her father estranged, and the household under the rule of +an enemy, unscrupulous, selfish, and cruel. Over these purely imaginary +pictures she shed many needless tears.</p> + +<p>"But there's one thing," she told herself,—"it can't last always. When +girls are eighteen, they come of age, and can go away if they like; and +I <i>shall</i> go away! And I shall take the children with me. Papa won't +care for any of us by that time; so he will not object."</p> + +<p>So with this league, offensive and defensive, formed against her, the +new Mrs. Flint came home. Mary the cook and Ann the housemaid joined in +it to a degree.</p> + +<p>"To be sure, it's provoking enough that Miss Patty can be when she's a +mind,"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[260]</a></span> observed Mary; "a-laying down the law, and ordering me about, +when she knows no more than the babe unborn how things should be done! +Still, I'd rather keep on wid her than be thrying my hand at a stranger. +This'll prove a hard missis, mark my word for it, Ann! See how the +children is set against her from the first! That's a sign."</p> + +<p>Everything was neat and in order on the afternoon when Dr. and Mrs. +Flint were expected. Patty had worked hard to produce this result. "She +shall see that I know how to keep house," she said to herself. All the +rooms had received thorough sweeping, all the rugs had been beaten and +the curtains shaken out, the chairs had their backs exactly to the wall, +and every book on the centre table lay precisely at right angles with a +second book underneath it. Patty's ideas of decoration had not got +beyond a stiff neatness. She had yet to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[261]</a></span> learn how charming an easy +disorder can be made.</p> + +<p>The children, in immaculate white aprons, waited with her in the parlor. +They did not run out into the hall when the carriage stopped. The +malcontent Ann opened the door in silence.</p> + +<p>"Where are the children?" were the first words that Patty heard her +stepmother say.</p> + +<p>The voice was sweet and bright, with a sort of assured tone in it, as of +one used always to a welcome. She did not wait for the Doctor, but +walked into the room by herself, a tall, slender, graceful woman, with a +face full of brilliant meanings, of tenderness, sense, and fun. One look +out of her brown eyes did much toward the undoing of Patty's work of +prejudice with the little ones.</p> + +<p>"Patty, dear child, where are you?" she said. And she kissed her warmly, +not seeming to notice the averted eyes and the unresponding<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[262]</a></span> lips. Then +she turned to the little ones, and somehow, by what magic they could not +tell, in a very few minutes they had forgotten to be afraid of her, +forgotten that she was a stranger and a stepmother, and had begun to +talk to her freely and at their ease. Dr. Flint's face brightened as he +saw the group.</p> + +<p>"Getting acquainted with the new mamma?" he said. "That's right."</p> + +<p>But this was a mistake. It reminded the children that she was new, and +they drew back again into shyness. His wife gave him a rapid, humorous +look of warning.</p> + +<p>"It always takes a little while for people to get acquainted," she said; +"but these 'people' and I do not mean to wait long."</p> + +<p>She smiled as she spoke, and the children felt the fascination of her +manner; only Patty held aloof.</p> + +<p>The next few weeks went unhappily enough with her. She had to see her +adherents<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[263]</a></span> desert her, one by one; to know that Mary and Ann chanted the +praises of the new housekeeper to all their friends; to watch the little +girls' growing fondness for the stranger; to notice that little Hal +petted and fondled her as he had never done his rather rigorous elder +sister; and that her father looked younger and brighter and more content +than she had ever seen him look before. She had also to witness the +gradual demolishment of the stiff household arrangements which she had +inherited traditionally from her mother, and sedulously observed and +kept up.</p> + +<p>The new Mrs. Flint was a born homemaker. The little instinctive touches +which she administered here and there presently changed the whole aspect +of things. The chairs walked away from the walls; the sofa was wheeled +into the best position for the light; plants, which Patty had eschewed +as making trouble and "slop," blossomed everywhere.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[264]</a></span> Books were +"strewed," as Patty in her secret thought expressed it, in all +directions; fresh flowers filled the vases; the blinds were thrown back +for the sunshine to stream in. The climax seemed to come when Mrs. Flint +turned out the air-tight stove, opened the disused fireplace, routed a +pair of andirons from the attic, and set up a wood fire.</p> + +<p>"It will snap all over the room. The ashes will dirty everything. The +children will set fire to their aprons, and burn up!" objected Patty.</p> + +<p>"There's a big wire fireguard coming to make the children safe," replied +her stepmother, easily. "As for the snapping and the dirt, that's all +fancy, Patty. I've lived with a wood fire all my life, and it's no +trouble at all, if properly managed. I'm sure you'll like it, dear, when +you are used to it."</p> + +<p>And the worst was that Patty <i>did</i> like it. It was so with many of the +new arrangements.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[265]</a></span> She opposed them violently at first in her heart, not +saying much,—for Mrs. Flint, with all her brightness and affectionate +sweetness, had an air of experience and authority about her which it was +not easy to dispute,—and later ended by confessing to herself that they +were improvements. A gradual thaw was taking place in her frozen little +nature. She fought against it; but as well might a winter-sealed pond +resist the sweet influences of spring.</p> + +<p>Against her will, almost without her knowledge, she was receiving the +impress of a character wider and sweeter and riper than her own. +Insensibly, an admiration of her stepmother grew upon her. She saw her +courted by strangers for her beauty and grace; she saw her become a sort +of queen among the young people of the town; but she also saw—she could +not help seeing—that no tinge of vanity ever marred her reception of +this regard, and that no duty was ever left undone,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[266]</a></span> no kindness ever +neglected, because of the pressure of the pleasantness of life. And +then—for a girl cannot but enjoy being made the most of—she gradually +realized that Mrs. Flint, in spite of coldness and discouragement, cared +for her rights, protected her pleasures, was ready to take pains that +Patty should have her share and her chance, should be and appear at her +best. It was something she had missed always,—the supervision and +loving watchfulness of a mother. Now it was hers; and, though she fought +against the conviction, it was sent to her.</p> + +<p>In less than a year Patty had yielded unconditionally to the new +<i>régime</i>. She was a generous child at heart, and, her opposition once +conquered, she became fonder of her stepmother than all the rest put +together. Simply and thoroughly she gave herself up to be re-moulded +into a new pattern. Her standards changed; her narrow world of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[267]</a></span> motives +and ideas expanded and enlarged, till from its confines she saw the +illimitable width of the whole universe. Sunshine lightened all her dark +places, and set her dormant capacities to growing. Such is the result, +at times, of one gracious, informing nature upon others.</p> + +<p>Before her eighteenth birthday, the date which she had set in her first +ignorant revolt of soul for escape from an imaginary tyranny, the +stepmother she had so dreaded was become her best and most intimate +friend. It was on that very day that she made for the first time a full +confession of her foolishness.</p> + +<p>"What a goose!—what a silly, bad thing I was!" she said. "I hated the +idea of you, Mamma. I said I never would like you, whatever you did; and +then I just went and fell in love with you!"</p> + +<p>"You hid the hatred tolerably well, but I am happy to say that you don't +hide the love," said Mrs. Flint, with a smile.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[268]</a></span> +"Hide it? I don't want to! I wonder what did make me behave so? Oh, I +know,—it was that absurd book! I wish people wouldn't write such +things, Mamma. When I'm quite grown up I mean to write a book myself, +and just tell everybody how different it really is, and that the nicest, +dearest, best things in the world, and the greatest blessings, +are—stepmothers."</p> + +<p>"Blessings in disguise," said Mrs. Flint. "Well, Patty, I am afraid I +was pretty thoroughly disguised in the beginning; but if you consider me +a blessing now, it's all right."</p> + +<p>"Oh, it's all just as right as it can be!" said Patty, fervently.</p> + +<p class="link"><a href="#contents">Back to contents</a></p> + +<hr /> + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[269]</a></span> +<a name="xvi" id="xvi"></a>A GRANTED WISH.</h2> + + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 91px;"> +<img src="images/dropt.jpg" width="91" height="100" alt="Ornate capital "T"" title="" /> +</div> + +<p class="noi"><span class="hidden">T</span>HIS is a story about princesses and beggar-girls, hovels and palaces, +sweet things and sad things, fullness and scarcity. It is a simple story +enough, and mostly true. And as it touches so many and such different +extremes of human condition and human experience, it ought by good +rights to interest almost everybody; don't you think so?</p> + +<p>Effie Wallis's great wish was to have a doll of her own. This was not a +very unreasonable wish for any little girl to feel, one would think, yet +there seemed as little likelihood of its being granted as that the moon +should come down out of the sky and offer itself to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[270]</a></span> her as a plaything; +for Effie and her parents belonged to the very poorest of the London +poor, and how deep a poverty that is, only London knows.</p> + +<p>We have poor people enough, and sin and suffering enough in our own +large cities, but I don't think the poorest of them are quite so badly +off as London's worst. Effie and her father and mother and her little +sister and her three brothers all lived in a single cellar-like room, in +the most squalid quarter of St. Giles. There was almost no furniture in +the room; in winter it was often fireless, +<a name="in" id="in"></a><ins title="Original has it">in</ins> summer hot always, +and full of evil smells. Food was scanty, and sometimes wanting +altogether, for gin cost less than bread, and Effie's father was +continuously drunk, her mother not infrequently so. It was a miserable +home and a wretched family. The parents fought, the children cried and +quarrelled, and the parents beat them. As the boys grew bigger, they +made haste to escape into the streets, where<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[271]</a></span> all manner of evil was +taught them. Jack, the eldest, who was but just twelve, had twice been +arrested, and sentenced to a term of imprisonment for picking pockets. +They were growing up to be little thieves, young ruffians, and what +chance for better things was there in the squalid cellar and the +comfortless life, and how little chance of a doll for Effie, you will +easily see. Poor doll-less Effie! She was only six years old, and really +a sweet little child. The grime on her cheeks did not reach to her +heart, which was as simple and ignorant and innocent as that of +white-clad children, whose mothers kiss them, and whose faces are washed +every day.</p> + +<p>In all her life Effie had only seen one doll. It was a battered object, +with one leg gone, and only half a nose, but, to Effie's eyes, it was a +beauty and a treasure. This doll was the property of a little girl to +whom Effie had never dared to speak, she seemed to her so happy and +privileged, so far above herself, as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[272]</a></span> she strutted up and down the alley +with other children, bearing the one-legged doll in her arms. It was not +the alley in which the Wallises lived, but a somewhat wider one into +which that opened. One of Effie's few pleasures was to creep away when +she could, and, crouched behind a post at the alley's foot, watch the +children playing there. No one thought of or noticed her. Once, when the +owner of the doll threw her on the ground for a moment and ran away, +Effie ventured to steal out and touch the wonderful creature with her +finger. It was only a touch, for the other children soon returned, and +Effie fled back to her hiding-place; but she never forgot it. Oh, if +only she could have a doll like that for her own, what happiness it +would be, she thought; but she never dared to mention the doll to her +mother, or to put the wish into words.</p> + +<p>If any one had come in just then and told Effie that one day she was to +own a doll far<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[273]</a></span> more beautiful than the shabby treasure she so coveted, +and that the person to give it her would be the future Queen of +England,—why, first it would have been needful to explain to her what +the words meant, and then she certainly wouldn't have believed them. +What a wide, wide distance there seemed from the wretched alley where +the little, half-clad child crouched behind the post, to the sunny +palace where the fair princess, England's darling, sat surrounded by her +bright-faced children,—a distance too wide to bridge, as it would +appear; yet it was bridged, and there was a half-way point where both +could meet, as you will see. That half-way point was called "The Great +Ormond Street Child's Hospital."</p> + +<p>For one day a very sad thing happened to Effie. Sent by her mother to +buy a quartern of gin, she was coming back with the jug in her hand, +when a half-tipsy man, reeling against her, threw her down just where a +flight<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[274]</a></span> of steps led to a lower street. She was picked up and carried +home, where for some days she lay in great pain, before a kind woman who +went about to read the Bible to the poor, found her out, and sent the +dispensary doctor to see her. He shook his head gravely after he had +examined her, and said her leg was badly broken, and ought to have been +seen to long before, and that there was no use trying to cure her there, +and she must be carried to the hospital. Mrs. Wallis made a great outcry +over this, for mothers are mothers, even when they are poor and drunken +and ignorant, and do not like to have their children taken away from +them; but in the end the doctor prevailed.</p> + +<p>Effie hardly knew when they moved her, for the doctor had given her +something which made her sleep heavily and long. It was like a dream +when she at last opened her eyes, and found herself in a place which she +had never seen before,—a long, wide, airy room,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[275]</a></span> with a double row of +narrow, white beds like the one in which she herself was, and in most of +the beds sick children lying. Bright colored pictures and texts painted +gaily in red and blue hung on the walls above the beds; some of the +counterpanes had pretty verses printed on them. Effie could not read, +but she liked to look at the texts, they were so bright. There were +flowers in pots and jars on the window-sills, and on some of the little +tables that stood beside the beds, and tiny chairs with rockers, in +which pale little boys and girls sat swinging to and fro. A great many +of them were playing with toys, and they all looked happy. An air of +fresh, cheerful neatness was over all the place, and altogether it was +so pleasant that for a long time Effie lay staring about her, and +speaking not a word. At last, in a faint little voice, she half +whispered, "Where is this?"</p> + +<p>Faint as was the voice, some one heard it, and came at once to the +bedside. This somebody<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[276]</a></span> was a nice, sweet-faced, motherly looking woman, +dressed in the uniform of Miss Nightingale's nurses. She smiled so +kindly at Effie that Effie smiled feebly back.</p> + +<p>"Where is this?" she asked again.</p> + +<p>"This is a nice place where they take care of little children who are +ill, and make them well again," answered the nurse, brightly.</p> + +<p>"Do you live here?" said Effie, after a pause, during which her large +eyes seemed to grow larger.</p> + +<p>"Yes. My name is Nurse Johnstone, and I am <i>your</i> nurse. You've had a +long sleep, haven't you, dear? Now you've waked up, would you like some +nice milk to drink?"</p> + +<p>"Y-es," replied Effie, doubtfully. But when the milk came, she liked it +very much, it was so cool and rich and sweet. It was brought in a little +blue cup, and Effie drank it through a glass tube, because she must<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[277]</a></span> not +lift her head. There was a bit of white bread to eat besides, but Effie +did not care for that. She was drowsy still, and fell asleep as soon as +the last mouthful of milk was swallowed.</p> + +<p>When she next waked, Nurse Johnstone was there again, with such a good +little cupful of hot broth for Effie to eat, and another slice of bread. +Effie's head was clearer now, and she felt much more like talking and +questioning. The ward was dark and still, only a shaded lamp here and +there showed the little ones asleep in their cots.</p> + +<p>"This is a nice place I think," said Effie, as she slowly sipped the +soup.</p> + +<p>"I'm glad you like it," said the nurse, "almost all children do."</p> + +<p>"I like you, too," said Effie, with a contented sigh, "and <i>that</i>," +pointing to the broth. She had not once asked after her mother; the +nurse noticed, and she drew her own inferences.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[278]</a></span> +"Now," she said, after she had smoothed the bed clothes and Effie's +hair, and given the pillow a touch or two to make it easier, "now, it +would be nice if you would say one little Bible verse for me, and then +go to sleep again."</p> + +<p>"A verse?" said Effie.</p> + +<p>"Yes, a little Bible verse."</p> + +<p>"Bible?" repeated Effie, in a puzzled tone.</p> + +<p>"Yes, dear,—a Bible verse. Don't you know one?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"But you've seen a Bible, surely."</p> + +<p>Effie shook her head. "I don't know what you mean," she said.</p> + +<p>"Why, you poor lamb," cried Nurse Johnstone, "I do believe you haven't! +Well, and in a Christian country, too! If that ain't too bad. I'll tell +you a verse this minute, you poor little thing, and to-morrow we'll see +if you can't learn it." Then, very slowly and reverently, she repeated, +"Suffer<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[279]</a></span> the little children to come unto Me, and forbid them not, for +of such is the kingdom of Heaven." Twice she repeated the text, Effie +listening attentively to the strange, beautiful words; then she kissed +her for good-night, and moved away. Effie lay awake awhile saying the +verse over to herself. She had a good memory, and when she waked next +morning she found that she was able to say it quite perfectly.</p> + +<p>That happened to be a Thursday, and Thursday was always a special day in +Great Ormond Street, because it was that on which the Princess of Wales +made her weekly visit to the hospital. Effie had never heard of a +princess, and had no idea what all the happy bustle meant, as nurses and +patients made ready for the coming guest. Nothing could be cleaner than +the ward in its every-day condition, but all little possible touches +were given to make it look its very best. Fresh<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[280]</a></span> flowers were put into +the jars, the little ones able to sit up, were made very neat, each +white bed was duly smoothed, and every face had a look as though +something pleasant was going to happen. Children easily catch the +contagion of cheerfulness, and Effie was insensibly cheered by seeing +other people so. She lay on her pillow, observing everything, and +faintly smiling, when the door opened, and in came a slender, beautiful +lady, wrapped in soft silks and laces, with two or three children beside +her. All the nurses began to courtesy, and the children to dimple and +twinkle at the sight of her. She walked straight to the middle of the +ward, then, lifting something up that all might see it, she said in a +clear sweet voice: "Isn't there some one of these little girls who can +say a pretty Bible verse for me? If there is, she shall have this."</p> + +<p>What do you think "this" was? No other than a doll! A large, beautiful +creature of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[281]</a></span> wax, with curly brown hair, blue eyes which could open and +shut, the reddest lips and pinkest cheeks ever seen, and a place, +somewhere about her middle, which, when pinched, made her utter a +squeaky sound like "Mama." This delightful doll had on a pretty blue +dress with a scarlet sash, and a pair of brown kid boots with real +buttons. She wore a little blue hat on top of her curly head, and +sported an actual pocket-handkerchief, three inches square, or so, on +which was written her name, "Dolly Varden." All the little ones stared +at her with dazzled eyes, but for a moment no one spoke. I suppose they +really were too surprised to speak, till suddenly a little hand went up, +and a small voice was heard from the far corner. The voice came from +Effie, too, and it was Effie herself who spoke.</p> + +<p>"I can say a verse," said the small voice.</p> + +<p>"Can you? That is nice. Say it, then," said the princess, turning toward +her.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[282]</a></span> +Then the small, piping voice repeated, very slowly and distinctly, this +text: "Suffer the little children to come unto—<i>Nurse Johnstone</i>—and +forbid them not, for of such is the kingdom of Heaven!"</p> + +<p>What a laugh rang through the ward then! The nurses laughed, the little +ones laughed too, though they did not distinctly understand at what. +Nurse Johnstone cried as well as laughed, and the princess was almost as +bad, for her eyes were dewy, though a smile was on her sweet lips as she +<a name="stepped" id="stepped"></a>stepped forward and laid the doll in Effie's hands. Nurse Johnstone +eagerly explained: "I said 'Come unto Me,' and she thought it meant +<i>me</i>, poor little lamb, and it's a shame there should be such ignorance +in a Christian land!" All this time Effie was hugging her dolly in a +silent rapture. Her wish was granted, and wasn't it strange that it +should have been granted just <i>so</i>?</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/gs04.jpg" width="400" height="578" alt="" title="" /> +<span class="caption">She stepped forward and laid the doll in Effie's +hands.—<span class="smcap"><a href="#stepped">Page 282.</a></span></span> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[283]</a></span> +Do you want to know more about little Effie? There isn't much more to +tell. All the kindness and care which she received in Great Ormond +Street could not make her well again. She had no constitution, the +doctors said, and no strength. She lived a good many weeks, however, and +they were the happiest weeks of her life, I think. Dolly Varden was +always beside her, and +<a name="Dolly" id="Dolly"></a><ins title="Original has dolly">Dolly</ins> was clasped tight in her arms +when she finally fell asleep to waken up no more. Nurse Johnstone, who +had learned to love the little girl dearly, wanted to lay the doll in +the small coffin; but the other nurses said it would be a pity to do so. +There are so few dolls and so many children in the world, you know; so +in the end Dolly Varden was given to another little sick girl, who took +as much pleasure in her as Effie had done.</p> + +<p>So Effie's wish was granted, though only for a little while. It is very +often so with wishes which we make in this world. But I am very sure +that Effie doesn't miss the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[284]</a></span> dolly or anything else in the happy world +to which she has gone, and that the wishes granted there are granted +fully and forever, and more freely and abundantly than we who stay +behind can even guess.</p> + +<hr class="white" /> + +<h3>THE END.</h3> + + +<div class="block"> + +<hr class="hrfull" /> + +<p class="center booktitle">SUSAN COOLIDGE'S POPULAR STORY BOOKS.</p> + +<hr class="hrfull" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">Susan Coolidge</span> has always possessed the affection of her young readers, +for it seems as if she had the happy instinct of planning stories that +each girl would like to act out in reality.—<i>The Critic.</i></p> + +<p>Not even Miss Alcott apprehends child nature with finer sympathy, or +pictures its nobler traits with more skill.—<i>Boston Daily Advertiser.</i></p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p class="hang"><b>THE NEW YEAR'S BARGAIN.</b> A Christmas Story for Children. With +Illustrations by <span class="smcap">Addie Ledyard</span>. 16mo. $1.25.</p> + +<p class="hang"><b>WHAT KATY DID.</b> A Story. With Illustrations by <span class="smcap">Addie Ledyard</span>. +16mo. $1.25.</p> + +<p class="hang"><b>WHAT KATY DID AT SCHOOL.</b> Being more about "What Katy Did." With +Illustrations. 16mo. $1.25.</p> + +<p class="hang"><b>MISCHIEF'S THANKSGIVING</b>, and other Stories. With Illustrations +by <span class="smcap">Addie Ledyard</span>. 16mo. $1.25.</p> + +<p class="hang"><b>NINE LITTLE GOSLINGS.</b> With Illustrations by <span class="smcap">J. A. Mitchell</span>. +16mo. $1.25.</p> + +<p class="hang"><b>EYEBRIGHT.</b> A Story. With Illustrations. 16mo. $1.25.</p> + +<p class="hang"><b>CROSS PATCH.</b> With Illustrations. 16mo. $1.25.</p> + +<p class="hang"><b>A ROUND DOZEN.</b> With Illustrations. 16mo. $1.25.</p> + +<p class="hang"><b>A LITTLE COUNTRY GIRL.</b> With Illustrations. 16mo. $1.25.</p> + +<p class="hang"><b>WHAT KATY DID NEXT.</b> With Illustrations. 16mo. $1.25.</p> + +<p class="hang"><b>CLOVER.</b> A Sequel to the Katy Books. With Illustrations by <span class="smcap">Jessie +McDermott</span>. 16mo. $1.25.</p> + +<p class="hang"><b>JUST SIXTEEN.</b> With Illustrations. 16mo. $1.25.</p> + +<p class="hang"><b>IN THE HIGH VALLEY.</b> With Illustrations. 16mo. $1.25.</p> + +<p class="hang"><b>A GUERNSEY LILY</b>; or, How the Feud was Healed. A Story of the +Channel Islands. Profusely Illustrated. 16mo. $1.25.</p> + +<p class="hang"><b>THE BARBERRY BUSH</b>, and Seven Other Stories about Girls for +Girls. With Illustrations by <span class="smcap">Jessie McDermott</span>. 16mo. $1.25.</p> + +<p class="hang"><b>NOT QUITE EIGHTEEN.</b> A volume of Stories. With illustrations by +<span class="smcap">Jessie McDermott</span>. 16mo. $1.25.</p> + + + +<p><i>Sold by all booksellers. Mailed, post-paid, on receipt of price, by the +publishers</i>,</p> + +<p class="right"><span class="smcap">ROBERTS BROTHERS, Boston</span></p> + + + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/book01.jpg" width="400" height="518" alt="In the High Valley" title="" /> +</div> + +<p class="center booktitle">IN THE HIGH VALLEY.</p> + +<p>Being the Fifth and last volume of the "Katy Did Series." With +illustrations by <span class="smcap">Jessie McDermott</span>.</p> + +<p class="condensed center">One volume, square 16mo, cloth. Price, $1.25.</p> + +<p class="right"><span class="smcap">ROBERTS BROTHERS, Publishers, Boston.</span></p> + + + +<hr /> + +<p class="center"><span class="booktitle">A GUERNSEY LILY;</span><br /> +<br /> +OR,<br /> +<br /> +<span class="booksub">HOW THE FEUD WAS HEALED</span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="oldenglish">A Story for Girls and Boys.</span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/book02.jpg" width="400" height="241" alt="How the Feud Was Healed" title="" /> +</div> + +<p class="center">BY<br /> +<br /> +<span class="author">SUSAN COOLIDGE,</span><br /> +<small>Author of "What Katy Did," "Clover," "In the High Valley," etc.</small></p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p class="booksub2 center">NEW EDITION. Square 16mo. ILLUSTRATED. Price, $1.25.</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p class="center"><span class="author">ROBERTS BROTHERS,</span><br /> +BOSTON.</p> + + + + +<hr /> + +<p class="center"><span class="booksub2"><i>Messrs. Roberts Brothers' Publications.</i></span></p> + +<p class="condensed center">SUSAN COOLIDGE'S POPULAR BOOKS.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/book03.jpg" width="400" height="513" alt="The Barberrry Bush" title="" /> +</div> + +<p class="hang"><big><b>THE BARBERRY BUSH.</b> And Seven Other Stories about Girls for +Girls. By Susan Coolidge. Illustrated by Jessie McDermott. 16mo. +Cloth. Uniform with "What Katy Did," etc. Price, $1.25.</big></p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p><i>For sale by all booksellers, and mailed, post-paid, on receipt of price +by the publishers.</i></p> + +<p class="right"><span class="smcap">ROBERTS BROTHERS, Boston, Mass.</span></p> + + +<hr class="hrfull" /> +</div> + + + +<hr class="white" /> + +<div id="box2"> +<p class="center">Transcriber's Note:</p> + +<p class="noi">Punctuation, spelling, hyphenation and language has been retained as +it appears in the original publication except as follows:</p> + +<p class="noi">Page 8<br /> + +the shoulder of his off horse <i>changed to</i><br /> +the shoulder <a href="#off">of his horse</a></p> + +<p class="noi">Page 194<br /> + +a "a boat;" men pulled off <i>changed to</i><br /> +<a href="#boat">"a boat;"</a> men pulled off</p> + +<p class="noi">Page 270<br /> + +it summer hot always, <i>changed to</i><br /> +<a href="#in">in</a> summer hot always,</p> + +<p class="noi">Page 283<br /> + +dolly was clasped tight in her arms <i>changed to</i><br /> +<a href="#Dolly">Dolly</a> was clasped tight in her arms</p> +</div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Not Quite Eighteen, by Susan Coolidge + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NOT QUITE EIGHTEEN *** + +***** This file should be named 33927-h.htm or 33927-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/3/9/2/33927/ + +Produced by Suzanne Shell and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + +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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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: Not Quite Eighteen + +Author: Susan Coolidge + +Release Date: October 14, 2010 [EBook #33927] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NOT QUITE EIGHTEEN *** + + + + +Produced by Suzanne Shell and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + + + + + + + + +NOT QUITE EIGHTEEN. + + + + +[Illustration: The fox stared at her, and she stared back at the +fox.--PAGE 16.] + + + + + NOT QUITE EIGHTEEN. + + BY SUSAN COOLIDGE, + + AUTHOR OF "WHAT KATY DID," "THE NEW YEAR'S BARGAIN," + "THE BARBERRY BUSH," "A GUERNSEY LILY," + "IN THE HIGH VALLEY," ETC. + + + BOSTON: + ROBERTS BROTHERS. + 1894. + + + + + _Copyright, 1894_, + BY ROBERTS BROTHERS. + + + University Press: + JOHN WILSON AND SON, CAMBRIDGE, U.S.A. + + + + +CONTENTS. + + + PAGE + + I. HOW BUNNY BROUGHT GOOD LUCK 7 + + II. A BIT OF WILFULNESS 30 + + III. THE WOLVES OF ST. GERVAS 42 + + IV. THREE LITTLE CANDLES 62 + + V. UNCLE AND AUNT 83 + + VI. THE CORN-BALL MONEY 111 + + VII. THE PRIZE GIRL OF THE HARNESSING CLASS 123 + + VIII. DOLLY PHONE 142 + + IX. A NURSERY TYRANT 165 + + X. WHAT THE PINK FLAMINGO DID 179 + + XI. TWO PAIRS OF EYES 200 + + XII. THE PONY THAT KEPT THE STORE 211 + + XIII. PINK AND SCARLET 227 + + XIV. DOLLY'S LESSON 239 + + XV. A BLESSING IN DISGUISE 252 + + XVI. A GRANTED WISH 269 + + + + +HOW BUNNY BROUGHT GOOD LUCK. + + +It was Midsummer's Day, that delightful point toward which the whole +year climbs, and from which it slips off like an ebbing wave in the +direction of the distant winter. No wonder that superstitious people in +old times gave this day to the fairies, for it is the most beautiful day +of all. The world seems full of bird-songs, sunshine, and flower-smells +then; storm and sorrow appear impossible things; the barest and ugliest +spot takes on a brief charm and, for the moment, seems lovely and +desirable. + +"That's a picturesque old place," said a lady on the back seat of the +big wagon in which Hiram Swift was taking his summer boarders to drive. + +They were passing a low, wide farmhouse, gray from want of paint, with a +shabby barn and sheds attached, all overarched by tall elms. The narrow +hay-field and the vegetable-patch ended in a rocky hillside, with its +steep ledges, overgrown and topped with tall pines and firs, which made +a dense green background to the old buildings. + +"I don't know about its being like a picter," said Hiram, dryly, as he +flicked away a fly from the shoulder of his horse, "but it isn't much +by way of a farm. That bit of hay-field is about all the land there is +that's worth anything; the rest is all rock. I guess the Widow Gale +doesn't take much comfort in its bein' picturesque. She'd be glad +enough to have the land made flat, if she could." + +"Oh, is that the Gale farm, where the silver-mine is said to be?" + +"Yes, marm; at least, it's the farm where the man lived that, 'cordin' +to what folks say, said he'd found a silver-mine. I don't take a great +deal of stock in the story myself." + +"A silver-mine! That sounds interesting," said a pretty girl on the +front seat, who had been driving the horses half the way, aided and +abetted by Hiram, with whom she was a prime favorite. "Tell me about it, +Mr. Swift. Is it a story, and when did it all happen?" + +"Well, I don't know as it ever did happen," responded the farmer, +cautiously. "All I know for certain is, that my father used to tell a +story that, before I was born (nigh on to sixty years ago, that must +have been), Squire Asy Allen--that used to live up to that red house on +North Street, where you bought the crockery mug, you know, Miss +Rose--come up one day in a great hurry to catch the stage, with a lump +of rock tied in his handkerchief. Old Roger Gale had found it, he said, +and they thought it was silver ore; and the Squire was a-takin' it down +to New Haven to get it analyzed. My father, he saw the rock, but he +didn't think much of it from the looks, till the Squire got back ten +days afterward and said the New Haven professor pronounced it silver, +sure enough, and a rich specimen; and any man who owned a mine of it had +his fortune made, he said. Then, of course, the township got excited, +and everybody talked silver, and there was a great to-do." + +"And why didn't they go to work on the mine at once?" asked the pretty +girl. + +"Well, you see, unfortunately, no one knew where it was, and old Roger +Gale had taken that particular day, of all others, to fall off his +hay-riggin' and break his neck, and he hadn't happened to mention to any +one before doing so where he found the rock! He was a close-mouthed old +chap, Roger was. For ten years after that, folks that hadn't anything +else to do went about hunting for the silver-mine, but they gradooally +got tired, and now it's nothin' more than an old story. Does to amuse +boarders with in the summer," concluded Mr. Swift, with a twinkle. "For +my part, I don't believe there ever was a mine." + +"But there was the piece of ore to prove it." + +"Oh, that don't prove anything, because it got lost. No one knows what +became of it. An' sixty years is long enough for a story to get +exaggerated in." + +"I don't see why there shouldn't be silver in Beulah township," remarked +the lady on the back seat. "You have all kinds of other minerals +here,--soapstone and mica and emery and tourmalines and beryls." + +"Well, ma'am, I don't see nuther, unless, mebbe, it's the Lord's will +there shouldn't be." + +"It would be so interesting if the mine could be found!" said the pretty +girl. + +"It would be _so_, especially to the Gale family,--that is, if it was +found on their land. The widow's a smart, capable woman, but it's as +much as she can do, turn and twist how she may, to make both ends meet. +And there's that boy of hers, a likely boy as ever you see, and just +hungry for book-l'arnin', the minister says. The chance of an eddication +would be just everything to him, and the widow can't give him one." + +"It's really a romance," said the pretty girl, carelessly, the wants and +cravings of others slipping off her young sympathies easily. + +Then the horses reached the top of the long hill they had been climbing, +Hiram put on the brake, and they began to grind down a hill equally +long, with a soft panorama of plumy tree-clad summits before them, +shimmering in the June sunshine. Drives in Beulah township were apt to +be rather perpendicular, however you took them. + +Some one, high up on the hill behind the farmhouse, heard the clank +of the brakes, and lifted up her head to listen. It was Hester +Gale,--a brown little girl, with quick dark eyes, and a mane of curly +chestnut hair, only too apt to get into tangles. She was just eight +years old, and to her the old farmstead, which the neighbors scorned +as worthless, was a sort of enchanted land, full of delights and +surprises,--hiding-places which no one but herself knew, rocks and +thickets where she was sure real fairies dwelt, and cubby-houses sacred +to the use of "Bunny," who was her sole playmate and companion, and the +confidant to whom she told all her plans and secrets. + +Bunny was a doll,--an old-fashioned doll, carved out of a solid piece of +hickory-wood, with a stern expression of face, and a perfectly +unyielding figure; but a doll whom Hester loved above all things. Her +mother and her mother's mother had played with Bunny, but this only made +her the dearer. + +The two sat together between the gnarled roots of an old spruce which +grew near the edge of a steep little cliff. It was one of the loneliest +parts of the rocky hillside, and the hardest to get at. Hester liked it +better than any of her other hiding-places, because no one but herself +ever came there. + +Bunny lay in her lap, and Hester was in the middle of a story, when she +stopped to listen to the wagon grinding down-hill. + +"So the little chicken said, 'Peep! Peep!' and started off to see what +the big yellow fox was like," she went on. "That was a silly thing for +her to do, wasn't it, Bunny? because foxes aren't a bit nice to +chickens. But the little chicken didn't know any better, and she +wouldn't listen to the old hens when they told her how foolish she was. +That was wrong, because it's naughty to dis--dis--apute your elders, +mother says; children that do are almost always sorry afterward. + +"Well, she hadn't gone far before she heard a rustle in the bushes on +one side. She thought it was the fox, and then she _did_ feel +frightened, you'd better believe, and all the things she meant to say to +him went straight out of her head. But it wasn't the fox that time; it +was a teeny-weeny little striped squirrel, and he just said, 'It's a +sightly day, isn't it?' and, without waiting for an answer, ran up a +tree. So the chicken didn't mind _him_ a bit. + +"Then, by and by, when she had gone a long way farther off from home, +she heard another rustle. It was just like--Oh, what's that, Bunny?" + +Hester stopped short, and I am sorry to say that Bunny never heard the +end of the chicken story, for the rustle resolved itself into--what do +you think? + +It was a fox! A real fox! + +There he stood on the hillside, gazing straight at Hester, with his +yellow brush waving behind him, and his eyes looking as sharp as the row +of gleaming teeth beneath them. Foxes were rare animals in the Beulah +region. Hester had never seen one before; but she had seen the picture +of a fox in one of Roger's books, so she knew what it was. + +The fox stared at her, and she stared back at the fox. Then her heart +melted with fear, like the heart of the little chicken, and she jumped +to her feet, forgetting Bunny, who fell from her lap, and rolled +unobserved over the edge of the cliff. The sudden movement startled the +fox, and he disappeared into the bushes with a wave of his yellow brush; +just how or where he went, Hester could not have told. + +"How sorry Roger will be that he wasn't here to see him!" was her first +thought. Her second was for Bunny. She turned, and stooped to pick up +the doll--and lo! Bunny was not there. + +High and low she searched, beneath grass tangles, under "juniper +saucers," among the stems of the thickly massed blueberries and +hardhacks, but nowhere was Bunny to be seen. She peered over the ledge, +but nothing met her eyes below but a thick growth of blackish, stunted +evergreens. This place "down below" had been a sort of terror to +Hester's imagination always, as an entirely unknown and unexplored +region; but in the cause of the beloved Bunny she was prepared to risk +anything, and she bravely made ready to plunge into the depths. + +It was not so easy to plunge, however. The cliff was ten or twelve feet +in height where she stood, and ran for a considerable distance to right +and left without getting lower. This way and that she quested, and at +last found a crevice where it was possible to scramble down,--a steep +little crevice, full of blackberry briers, which scratched her face and +tore her frock. When at last she gained the lower bank, this further +difficulty presented itself: she could not tell where she was. The +evergreen thicket nearly met over her head, the branches got into her +eyes, and buffeted and bewildered her. She could not make out the place +where she had been sitting, and no signs of Bunny could be found. At +last, breathless with exertion, tired, hot, and hopeless, she made her +way out of the thicket, and went, crying, home to her mother. + +She was still crying, and refusing to be comforted, when Roger came in +from milking. He was sorry for Hester, but not so sorry as he would have +been had his mind not been full of troubles of his own. He tried to +console her with a vague promise of helping her to look for Bunny "some +day when there wasn't so much to do." But this was cold comfort, and, in +the end, Hester went to bed heartbroken, to sob herself to sleep. + +"Mother," said Roger, after she had gone, "Jim Boies is going to his +uncle's, in New Ipswich, in September, to do chores and help round a +little, and to go all winter to the academy." + +The New Ipswich Academy was quite a famous school then, and to go there +was a great chance for a studious boy. + +"That's a bit of good luck for Jim." + +"Yes; first-rate." + +"Not quite so first-rate for you." + +"No" (gloomily). "I shall miss Jim. He's always been my best friend +among the boys. But what makes me mad is that he doesn't care a bit +about going. Mother, why doesn't good luck ever come to us Gales?" + +"It was good luck for me when you came, Roger. I don't know how I should +get along without you." + +"I'd be worth a great deal more to you if I could get a chance at any +sort of schooling. Doesn't it seem hard, Mother? There's Squire Dennis +and Farmer Atwater, and half a dozen others in this township, who are +all ready to send their boys to college, and the boys don't want to go! +Bob Dennis says that he'd far rather do teaming in the summer, and take +the girls up to singing practice at the church, than go to all the +Harvards and Yales in the world; and I, who'd give my head, almost, to +go to college, can't! It doesn't seem half right, Mother." + +"No, Roger, it doesn't; not a quarter. There are a good many things that +don't seem right in this world, but I don't know who's to mend 'em. I +can't. The only way is to dig along hard and do what's to be done as +well as you can, whatever it is, and make the best of your 'musts.' +There's always a 'must.' I suppose rich people have them as well as poor +ones." + +"Rich people's boys can go to college." + +"Yes,--and mine can't. I'd sell all we've got to send you, Roger, since +your heart is so set on it, but this poor little farm wouldn't be half +enough, even if any one wanted to buy it, which isn't likely. It's no +use talking about it, Roger; it only makes both of us feel bad.--Did you +kill the 'broilers' for the hotel?" she asked with a sudden change of +tone. + +"No, not yet." + +"Go and do it, then, right away. You'll have to carry them down early +with the eggs. Four pairs, Roger. Chickens are the best crop we can +raise on this farm." + +"If we could find Great-uncle Roger's mine, we'd eat the chickens +ourselves," said Roger, as he reluctantly turned to go. + +"Yes, and if that apple-tree'd take to bearing gold apples, we wouldn't +have to work at all. Hurry and do your chores before dark, Roger." + +Mrs. Gale was a Spartan in her methods, but, for all that, she sighed a +bitter sigh as Roger went out of the door. + +"He's such a smart boy," she told herself, "there's nothing he couldn't +do,--nothing, if he had a chance. I do call it hard. The folks who have +plenty of money to do with have dull boys; and I, who've got a bright +one, can't do anything for him! It seems as if things weren't justly +arranged." + +Hester spent all her spare time during the next week in searching for +the lost Bunny. It rained hard one day, and all the following night; she +could not sleep for fear that Bunny was getting wet, and looked so pale +in the morning that her mother forbade her going to the hill. + +"Your feet were sopping when you came in yesterday," she said; "and +that's the second apron you've torn. You'll just have to let Bunny go, +Hester; no two ways about it." + +Then Hester moped and grieved and grew thin, and at last she fell ill. +It was low fever, the doctor said. Several days went by, and she was no +better. One noon, Roger came in from haying to find his mother with her +eyes looking very much troubled. "Hester is light-headed," she said; "we +must have the doctor again." + +Roger went in to look at the child, who was lying in a little bedroom +off the kitchen. The small, flushed face on the pillow did not light up +at his approach. On the contrary, Hester's eyes, which were unnaturally +big and bright, looked past and beyond him. + +"Hessie, dear, don't you know Roger?" + +"He said he'd find Bunny for me some day," muttered the little voice; +"but he never did. Oh, I wish he would!--I wish he would! I do want her +so much!" Then she rambled on about foxes, and the old spruce-tree, and +the rocks,--always with the refrain, "I wish I had Bunny; I want her so +much!" + +"Mother, I do believe it's that wretched old doll she's fretted herself +sick over," said Roger, going back into the kitchen. "Now, I'll tell you +what! Mr. Hinsdale's going up to the town this noon, and he'll leave +word for the doctor to come; and the minute I've swallowed my dinner, +I'm going up to the hill to find Bunny. I don't believe Hessie'll get +any better till she's found." + +"Very well," said Mrs. Gale. "I suppose the hay'll be spoiled, but we've +got to get Hessie cured at any price." + +"Oh, I'll find the doll. I know about where Hessie was when she lost it. +And the hay'll take no harm. I only got a quarter of the field cut, and +it's good drying weather." + +Roger made haste with his dinner. His conscience pricked him as he +remembered his neglected promise and his indifference to Hester's +griefs; he felt in haste to make amends. He went straight to the old +spruce, which, he had gathered from Hester's rambling speech, was the +scene of Bunny's disappearance. It was easily found, being the oldest +and largest on the hillside. + +Roger had brought a stout stick with him, and now, leaning over the +cliff edge, he tried to poke with it in the branches below, while +searching for the dolly. But the stick was not long enough, and slipped +through his fingers, disappearing suddenly and completely through the +evergreens. + +"Hallo!" cried Roger. "There must be a hole there of some sort. Bunny's +at the bottom of it, no doubt. Here goes to find her!" + +His longer legs made easy work of the steep descent which had so puzzled +his little sister. Presently he stood, waist-deep, in tangled hemlock +boughs, below the old spruce. He parted the bushes in advance, and moved +cautiously forward, step by step. He felt a cavity just before him, but +the thicket was so dense that he could see nothing. + +Feeling for his pocket-knife, which luckily was a stout one, he stood +still, cutting, slashing, and breaking off the tough boughs, and +throwing them on one side. It was hard work, but after ten minutes a +space was cleared which let in a ray of light, and, with a hot, red face +and surprised eyes, Roger Gale stooped over the edge of a rocky cavity, +on the sides of which something glittered and shone. He swung himself +over the edge, and dropped into the hole, which was but a few feet deep. +His foot struck on something hard as he landed. He stooped to pick it +up, and his hand encountered a soft substance. He lifted both objects +out together. + +The soft substance was a doll's woollen frock. There, indeed, was the +lost Bunny, looking no whit the worse for her adventures, and the hard +thing on which her wooden head had lain was a pickaxe,--an old iron +pick, red with rust. Three letters were rudely cut on the handle,--R. P. +G. They were Roger's own initials. Roger Perkins Gale. It had been his +father's name also, and that of the great-uncle after whom they both +were named. + +With an excited cry, Roger stooped again, and lifted out of the hole a +lump of quartz mingled with ore. Suddenly he realized where he was and +what he had found. This was the long lost silver-mine, whose finding and +whose disappearance had for so many years been a tradition in the +township. Here it was that old Roger Gale had found his "speciment," +knocked off probably with that very pick, and, covering up all traces of +his discovery, had gone sturdily off to his farm-work, to meet his death +next week on the hay-rigging, with the secret locked within his breast. +For sixty years the evergreen thicket had grown and toughened and +guarded the hidden cavity beneath its roots; and it might easily have +done so for sixty years longer, if Bunny,--little wooden Bunny, with her +lack-lustre eyes and expressionless features,--had not led the way into +its tangles. + +Hester got well. When Roger placed the doll in her arms, she seemed to +come to herself, fondled and kissed her, and presently dropped into a +satisfied sleep, from which she awoke conscious and relieved. The "mine" +did not prove exactly a mine,--it was not deep or wide enough for that; +but the ore in it was rich in quality, and the news of its finding made +a great stir in the neighborhood. Mrs. Gale was offered a price for her +hillside which made her what she considered a rich woman, and she was +wise enough to close with the offer at once, and neither stand out for +higher terms nor risk the chance of mining on her own account. She and +her family left the quiet little farmhouse soon after that, and went to +live in Worcester. Roger had all the schooling he desired, and made +ready for Harvard and the law-school, where he worked hard, and laid +the foundations of what has since proved a brilliant career. You may be +sure that Bunny went to Worcester also, treated and regarded as one of +the most valued members of the family. Hester took great care of her, +and so did Hester's little girl later on; and even Mrs. Gale spoke +respectfully of her always, and treated her with honor. For was it not +Bunny who broke the long spell of evil fate, and brought good luck back +to the Gale family? + + + + +A BIT OF WILFULNESS. + + +There was a great excitement in the Keene's pleasant home at Wrentham, +one morning, about three years ago. The servants were hard at work, +making everything neat and orderly. The children buzzed about like +active flies, for in the evening some one was coming whom none of them +had as yet seen,--a new mamma, whom their father had just married. + +The three older children remembered their own mamma pretty well; to the +babies, she was only a name. Janet, the eldest, recollected her best of +all, and the idea of somebody coming to take her place did not please +her at all. This was not from a sense of jealousy for the mother who +was gone, but rather from a jealousy for herself; for since Mrs. Keene's +death, three years before, Janet had done pretty much as she liked, and +the idea of control and interference aroused within her, in advance, the +spirit of resistance. + +Janet's father was a busy lawyer, and had little time to give to the +study of his children's characters. He liked to come home at night, +after a hard day at his office, or in the courts, and find a nicely +arranged table and room, and a bright fire in the grate, beside which he +could read his newspaper without interruption, just stopping now and +then to say a word to the children, or have a frolic with the younger +ones before they went to bed. Old Maria, who had been nurse to all the +five in turn, managed the housekeeping; and so long as there was no +outward disturbance, Mr. Keene asked no questions. + +He had no idea that Janet, in fact, ruled the family. She was only +twelve, but she had the spirit of a dictator, and none of the little +ones dared to dispute her will or to complain. In fact, there was not +often cause for complaint. When Janet was not opposed, she was both kind +and amusing. She had much sense and capacity for a child of her years, +and her brothers and sisters were not old enough to detect the mistakes +which she sometimes made. + +And now a stepmother was coming to spoil all this, as Janet thought. Her +meditations, as she dusted the china and arranged the flowers, ran +something after this fashion: + +"She's only twenty-one, Papa said, and that's only nine years older than +I am, and nine years isn't much. I'm not going to call her 'Mamma,' +anyway. I shall call her 'Jerusha,' from the very first; for Maria said +that Jessie was only a nickname, and I hate nicknames. I know she'll +want me to begin school next fall, but I don't mean to, for she don't +know anything about the schools here, and I can judge better than she +can. There, that looks nice!" putting a tall spike of lilies in a pale +green vase. "Now I'll dress baby and little Jim, and we shall all be +ready when they come." + +It was exactly six, that loveliest hour of a lovely June day, when the +carriage stopped at the gate. Mr. Keene helped his wife out, and looked +eagerly toward the piazza, on which the five children were grouped. + +"Well, my dears," he cried, "how do you do? Why don't you come and kiss +your new mamma?" + +They all came obediently, pretty little Jim and baby Alice, hand in +hand, then Harry and Mabel, and, last of all, Janet. The little ones +shyly allowed themselves to be kissed, saying nothing, but Janet, true +to her resolution, returned her stepmother's salute in a matter-of-fact +way, kissed her father, and remarked: + +"Do come in, Papa; Jerusha must be tired!" + +Mr. Keene gave an amazed look at his wife. The corners of her mouth +twitched, and Janet thought wrathfully, "I do believe she is laughing at +me!" But Mrs. Keene stifled the laugh, and, taking little Alice's hand, +led the way into the house. + +"Oh, how nice, how pretty!" were her first words. "Look at the flowers, +James! Did you arrange them, Janet? I suspect you did." + +"Yes," said Janet; "I did them all." + +"Thank you, dear," said Mrs. Keene, and stooped to kiss her again. It +was an affectionate kiss, and Janet had to confess to herself that this +new--person was pleasant looking. She had pretty brown hair and eyes, a +warm glow of color in a pair of round cheeks, and an expression at once +sweet and sensible and decided. It was a face full of attraction; the +younger children felt it, and began to sidle up and cuddle against the +new mamma. Janet felt the attraction, too, but she resisted it. + +"Don't squeeze Jerusha in that way," she said to Mabel; "you are +creasing her jacket. Jim, come here, you are in the way." + +"Janet," said Mr. Keene, in a voice of displeasure, "what do you mean by +calling your mother 'Jerusha'?" + +"She isn't my real mother," explained Janet, defiantly. "I don't want to +call her 'Mamma;' she's too young." + +Mrs. Keene laughed,--she couldn't help it. + +"We will settle by and by what you shall call me," she said. "But, +Janet, it can't be Jerusha, for that is not my name. I was baptized +Jessie." + +"I shall call you Mrs. Keene, then," said Janet, mortified, but +persistent. Her stepmother looked pained, but she said no more. + +None of the other children made any difficulty about saying "Mamma" to +this sweet new friend. Jessie Keene was the very woman to "mother" a +family of children. Bright and tender and firm all at once, she was +playmate to them as well as authority, and in a very little while they +all learned to love her dearly,--all but Janet; and even she, at times, +found it hard to resist this influence, which was at the same time so +strong and so kind. + +Still, she did resist, and the result was constant discomfort to both +parties. To the younger children the new mamma brought added happiness, +because they yielded to her wise and reasonable authority. To Janet she +brought only friction and resentment, because she would not yield. + +So two months passed. Late in August, Mr. and Mrs Keene started on a +short journey which was to keep them away from home for two days. Just +as the carriage was driving away, Mrs. Keene suddenly said,-- + +"Oh, Janet! I forgot to say that I would rather you didn't go see Ellen +Colton while we are away, or let any of the other children. Please tell +nurse about it." + +"Why mustn't I?" demanded Janet. + +"Because--" began her mother, but Mr. Keene broke in. + +"Never mind 'becauses,' Jessie; we must be off. It's enough for you, +Janet, that your mother orders it. And see that you do as she says." + +"It's a shame!" muttered Janet, as she slowly went back to the house. "I +always have gone to see Ellen whenever I liked. No one ever stopped me +before. I don't think it's a bit fair; and I wish Papa wouldn't speak to +me like that before--her." + +Gradually she worked herself into a strong fit of ill-temper. All day +long she felt a growing sense of injury, and she made up her mind not to +bear it. Next morning, in a towering state of self-will, she marched +straight down to the Coltons, resolved at least to find out the meaning +of this vexatious prohibition. + +No one was on the piazza, and Janet ran up-stairs to Ellen's room, +expecting to find her studying her lessons. + +No; Ellen was in the bed, fast asleep. Janet took a story-book, and sat +down beside her. "She'll be surprised when she wakes up," she thought. + +The book proved interesting, and Janet read on for nearly half an hour +before Mrs. Colton came in with a cup and spoon in her hand. She gave a +scream when she saw Janet. + +"Mercy!" she cried, "what are you doing here? Didn't your ma tell you? +Ellen's got scarlet-fever." + +"No, she didn't tell me _that_. She only said I mustn't come here." + +"And why did you come?" + +Somehow Janet found it hard to explain, even to herself, why she had +been so determined not to obey. + +Very sorrowfully she walked homeward. She had sense enough to know how +dreadful might be the result of her disobedience, and she felt humble +and wretched. "Oh, if only I hadn't!" was the language of her heart. + +The little ones had gone out to play. Janet hurried to her own room, and +locked the door. + +"I won't see any of them till Papa comes," she thought. "Then perhaps +they won't catch it from me." + +She watched from the window till Maria came out to hang something on the +clothesline, and called to her. + +"I'm not coming down to dinner," she said. "Will you please bring me +some, and leave it by my door? No, I'm not ill, but there are reasons. +I'd rather not tell anybody about them but Mamma." + +"Sakes alive!" said old Maria to herself, "she called missus 'Mamma.' +The skies must be going to fall." + +Mrs. Keene's surprise may be imagined at finding Janet thus, in a state +of voluntary quarantine. + +"I am so sorry," she said, when she had listened to her confession. +"Most sorry of all for you, my child, because you may have to bear the +worst penalty. But it was brave and thoughtful in you to shut yourself +up to spare the little ones, dear Janet." + +"Oh, Mamma!" cried Janet, bursting into tears. "How kind you are not to +scold me! I have been so horrid to you always." All the pride and +hardness were melted out of her now, and for the first time she clung to +her stepmother with a sense of protection and comfort. + +Janet said afterwards, that the fortnight which she spent in her room, +waiting to know if she had caught the fever, was one of the nicest times +she ever had. The children and the servants, and even Papa, kept away +from her, but Mrs. Keene came as often and stayed as long as she could; +and, thrown thus upon her sole companionship, Janet found out the worth +of this dear, kind stepmother. She did _not_ have scarlet-fever, and at +the end of three weeks was allowed to go back to her old ways, but with +a different spirit. + +"I can't think why I didn't love you sooner," she told Mamma once. + +"I think I know," replied Mrs. Keene, smiling. "That stiff little will +was in the way. You willed not to like me, and it was easy to obey your +will; but now you will to love me, and loving is as easy as unloving +was." + + + + +THE WOLVES OF ST. GERVAS. + + +There never seemed a place more in need of something to make it merry +than was the little Swiss hamlet of St. Gervas toward the end of March, +some years since. + +The winter had been the hardest ever known in the Bernese Oberland. Ever +since November the snow had fallen steadily, with few intermissions, and +the fierce winds from the Breithorn and the St. Theodule Pass had blown +day and night, and the drifts deepened in the valleys, and the icicles +on the eaves of the chalets grown thicker and longer. The old wives had +quoted comforting saws about a "white Michaelmas making a brown +Easter;" but Easter was at hand now, and there were no signs of +relenting yet. + +Week after week the strong men had sallied forth with shovels and +pickaxes to dig out the half-buried dwellings, and to open the paths +between them, which had grown so deep that they seemed more like +trenches than footways. + +Month after month the intercourse between neighbors had become more +difficult and meetings less frequent. People looked over the white +wastes at each other, the children ran to the doors and shouted messages +across the snow, but no one was brave enough to face the cold and the +drifts. + +Even the village inn was deserted. Occasionally some hardy wayfarer came +by and stopped for a mug of beer and to tell Dame Ursel, the landlady, +how deep the snows were, how black clouds lay to the north, betokening +another fall, and that the shoulders and flanks of the Matterhorn were +whiter than man had ever seen them before. Then he would struggle on +his way, and perhaps two or three days would pass before another guest +crossed the threshold. + +It was a sad change for the Kroene, whose big sanded kitchen was usually +crowded with jolly peasants, and full of laughter and jest, the clinking +of glasses, and the smoke from long pipes. Dame Ursel felt it keenly. + +But such jolly meetings were clearly impossible now. The weather was too +hard. Women could not easily make their way through the snow, and they +dared not let the children play even close to the doors; for as the wind +blew strongly down from the sheltering forest on the hill above, which +was the protection of St. Gervas from landslides and avalanches, shrill +yelping cries would ever and anon be heard, which sounded very near. The +mothers listened with a shudder, for it was known that the wolves, +driven by hunger, had ventured nearer to the hamlet than they had ever +before done, and were there just above on the hillside, waiting to make +a prey of anything not strong enough to protect itself against them. + +"Three pigs have they carried off since Christmas," said Mere Kronk, +"and one of those the pig of a widow! Two sheep and a calf have they +also taken; and only night before last they all but got at the Alleene's +cow. Matters have come to a pass indeed in St. Gervas, if cows are to be +devoured in our very midst! Toinette and Pertal, come in at once! Thou +must not venture even so far as the doorstep unless thy father be along, +and he with his rifle over his shoulder, if he wants me to sleep of +nights." + +"Oh, dear!" sighed little Toinette for the hundredth time. "How I wish +the dear summer would come! Then the wolves would go away, and we could +run about as we used, and Gretchen Slaut and I go to the Alp for +berries. It seems as if it had been winter forever and ever. I haven't +seen Gretchen or little Marie for two whole weeks. _Their_ mother, too, +is fearful of the wolves." + +All the mothers in St. Gervas were fearful of the wolves. + +The little hamlet was, as it were, in a state of siege. Winter, the +fierce foe, was the besieger. Month by month he had drawn his lines +nearer, and made them stronger; the only hope was in the rescue which +spring might bring. Like a beleaguered garrison, whose hopes and +provisions are running low, the villagers looked out with eager eyes for +the signs of coming help, and still the snows fell, and the help did not +come. + +How fared it meanwhile in the forest slopes above? + +It is not a sin for a wolf to be hungry, any more than it is for a man; +and the wolves of St. Gervas were ravenous indeed. All their customary +supplies were cut off. The leverets and marmots, and other small +animals on which they were accustomed to prey, had been driven by the +cold into the recesses of their hidden holes, from which they did not +venture out. There was no herbage to tempt the rabbits forth, no tender +birch growths for the strong gray hares. + +No doubt the wolves talked the situation over in their wolfish language, +realized that it was a desperate one, and planned the daring forays +which resulted in the disappearance of the pigs and sheep and the attack +on the Alleene's cow. The animals killed all belonged to outlying houses +a little further from the village than the rest; but the wolves had +grown bold with impunity, and, as Mere Kronk said, there was no knowing +at what moment they might make a dash at the centre of the hamlet. + +I fear they would have enjoyed a fat little boy or girl if they could +have come across one astray on the hillside, near their haunts, very +much. But no such luck befell them. The mothers of St. Gervas were too +wary for that, and no child went out after dark, or ventured more than a +few yards from the open house-door, even at high noon. + +"Something must be done," declared Johann Vecht, the bailiff. "We are +growing sickly and timorous. My wife hasn't smiled for a month. She +talks of nothing but snow and wolves, and it is making the children +fearful. My Annerle cried out in her sleep last night that she was being +devoured, and little Kasper woke up and cried too. Something must be +done!" + +"Something must indeed be done!" repeated Solomon, the forester. "We are +letting the winter get the better of us, and losing heart and courage. +We must make an effort to get together in the old neighborly way; that's +what we want." + +This conversation took place at the Kroene, and here the landlady, who +was tired of empty kitchen and scant custom, put in her word:-- + +"You are right, neighbors. What we need is to get together, and feast +and make merry, forgetting the hard times. Make your plans, and trust me +to carry them out to the letter. Is it a feast that you decide upon? I +will cook it. Is it a _musiker fest_? My Carl, there, can play the +zither with any other, no matter whom it be, and can sing. _Himmel_! how +he can sing! Command me! I will work my fingers to the bone rather than +you shall not be satisfied." + +"Aha, the sun!" cried Solomon; for as the landlady spoke, a pale yellow +ray shot through the pane and streamed over the floor. "That is a good +omen. Dame Ursel, thou art right. A jolly merrymaking is what we all +want. We will have one, and thou shalt cook the supper according to thy +promise." + +Several neighbors had entered the inn kitchen since the talk began, so +that quite a company had collected,--more than had got together since +the mass on Christmas Day. All were feeling cheered by the sight of the +sunshine; it seemed a happy moment to propose the merrymaking. + +So it was decided then and there that a supper should be held that day +week at the Kroene, men and women both to be invited,--all, in fact, who +could pay and wished to come. It seemed likely that most of the +inhabitants of St. Gervas would be present, such enthusiasm did the plan +awake in young and old. The week's delay would allow time to send to the +villagers lower down in the valley for a reinforcement of tobacco, for +the supply of that essential article was running low, and what was a +feast without tobacco? + +"We shall have a quarter of mutton," declared the landlady. "Neils +Austerman is to kill next Monday, and I will send at once to bespeak +the hind-quarter. That will insure a magnificent roast. Three fat geese +have I also, fit for the spit, and four hens. Oh, I assure you, my +masters, that there shall be no lack on my part! My Fritz shall get a +large mess of eels from the Lake. He fishes through the ice, as thou +knowest, and is lucky; the creatures always take his hook. Fried eels +are excellent eating! You will want a plenty of them. Three months +_maigre_ is good preparation for a feast. Wine and beer we have in +plenty in the cellar, and the cheese I shall cut is as a cartwheel for +bigness. Bring you the appetites, my masters, and I will engage that the +supply is sufficient." + +The landlady rubbed her hands as she spoke, with an air of joyful +anticipation. + +"My mouth waters already with thy list," declared Kronk. "I must hasten +home and tell my dame of the plan. It will raise her spirits, poor soul, +and she is sadly in need of cheering." + +The next week seemed shorter than any week had seemed since Michaelmas. +True, the weather was no better. The brief sunshine had been followed by +a wild snowstorm, and the wind was still blowing furiously. + +But now there was something to talk and think about besides weather. +Everybody was full of the forthcoming feast. Morning after morning Fritz +of the Kroene could be seen sitting beside his fishing-holes on the +frozen lake, patiently letting down his lines, and later, climbing the +hill, his basket laden with brown and wriggling eels. Everybody crowded +to the windows to watch him,--the catch was a matter of public interest. + +Three hardy men on snow-shoes, with guns over their shoulders, had +ventured down to St. Nicklaus, and returned, bringing the wished-for +tobacco and word that the lower valleys were no better off than the +upper, that everything was buried in snow, and no one had got in from +the Rhone valley for three weeks or more. + +Anxiously was the weather watched as the day of the feast drew near; and +when the morning dawned, every one gave a sigh of relief that it did not +snow. It was gray and threatening, but the wind had veered, and blew +from the southwest. It was not nearly so cold, and a change seemed at +hand. + +The wolves of St. Gervas were quite as well aware as the inhabitants +that something unusual was going forward. + +From their covert in the sheltering wood they watched the stir and +excitement, the running to and fro, the columns of smoke which streamed +upward from the chimneys of the inn. As the afternoon drew on, strange +savory smells were wafted upward by the strong-blowing wind,--smells of +frying and roasting, and hissing fat. + +"Oh, how it smells! How good it does smell!" said one wolf. He snuffed +the wind greedily, then threw back his head and gave vent to a long +"O-w!" + +The other wolves joined in the howl. + +"What can it be? Oh, how hungry it makes me!" cried one of the younger +ones. "O-w-w-w!" + +"What a dreadful noise those creatures are making up there," remarked +Frau Kronk as, under the protection of her stalwart husband, she hurried +her children along the snow path toward the Kroene. "They sound so +hungry! I shall not feel really safe till we are all at home again, with +the door fast barred." + +But she forgot her fears when the door of the inn was thrown hospitably +open as they drew near, and the merry scene inside revealed itself. + +The big sanded kitchen had been dressed with fir boughs, and was +brightly lighted with many candles. At the great table in the midst sat +rows of men and women, clad in their Sunday best. The men were smoking +long pipes, tall mugs of beer stood before everybody, and a buzz of +talk and laughter filled the place. + +Beyond, in the wide chimney, blazed a glorious fire, and about and over +it the supper could be seen cooking. The quarter of mutton, done to a +turn, hung on its spit, and on either side of it sputtered the geese and +the fat hens, brown and savory, and smelling delicious. Over the fire on +iron hooks hung a great kettle of potatoes and another of cabbage. + +On one side of the hearth knelt Gretel, the landlord's daughter, +grinding coffee, while on the other her brother Fritz brandished an +immense frying-pan heaped with sizzling eels, which sent out the loudest +smells of all. + +The air of the room was thick with the steam of the fry mingled with the +smoke of the pipes. A fastidious person might have objected to it as +hard to breathe, but the natives of St. Gervas were not fastidious, and +found no fault whatever with the smells and the smoke which, to them, +represented conviviality and good cheer. Even the dogs under the table +were rejoicing in it, and sending looks of expectation toward the +fireplace. + +"Welcome, welcome!" cried the jolly company as the Kronks appeared. +"Last to come is as well off as first, if a seat remains, and the supper +is still uneaten. Sit thee down, Dame, while the young ones join the +other children in the little kitchen. Supper is all but ready, and a +good one too, as all noses testify. Those eels smell rarely. It is but +to fetch the wine now, and then fall to, eh, Landlady?" + +"Nor shall the wine be long lacking!" cried Dame Ursel, snatching up a +big brown pitcher. "Sit thee down, Frau Kronk. That place beside thy +gossip Barbe was saved for thee. 'Tis but to go to the cellar and +return, and all will be ready. Stir the eels once more, Fritz; and +thou, Gretchen, set the coffee-pot on the coals. I shall be back in the +twinkling of an eye." + +There was a little hungry pause. From the smaller kitchen, behind, the +children's laughter could be heard. + +"It is good to be in company again," said Frau Kronk, sinking into her +seat with a sigh of pleasure. + +"Yes, so we thought,--we who got up the feast," responded Solomon, the +forester. "'Neighbors,' says I, 'we are all getting out of spirits with +so much cold and snow, and we must rouse ourselves and do something.' +'Yes,' says they, 'but what?' 'Nothing can be plainer,' says I, 'we +must'--_Himmel_! what is that?" + +What was it, indeed? + +For even as Solomon spoke, the heavy door of the kitchen burst open, +letting in a whirl of cold wind and sleet, and letting in something else +as well. + +For out of the darkness, as if blown by the wind, a troop of dark swift +shapes darted in. + +They were the wolves of St. Gervas, who, made bold by hunger, and +attracted and led on by the strong fragrance of the feast, had forgotten +their usual cowardice, and, stealing from the mountain-side and through +the deserted streets of the hamlet, had made a dash at the inn. + +There were not less than twenty of them; there seemed to be a hundred. + +As if acting by a preconcerted plan, they made a rush at the fireplace. +The guests sat petrified round the table, with their dogs cowering at +their feet, and no one stirred or moved, while the biggest wolf, who +seemed the leader of the band, tore the mutton from the spit, while the +next in size made a grab at the fat geese and the fowls, and the rest +seized upon the eels, hissing hot as they were, in the pan. Gretchen and +Fritz sat in their respective corners of the hearth, paralyzed with +fright at the near, snapping jaws and the fierce red eyes which glared +at them. + +Then, overturning the cabbage-pot as they went, the whole pack whirled, +and sped out again into the night, which seemed to swallow them up all +in a moment. + +And still the guests sat as if turned to stone, their eyes fixed upon +the door, through which the flakes of the snow-squall were rapidly +drifting; and no one had recovered voice to utter a word, when Dame +Ursel, rosy and beaming, came up from the cellar with her brimming +pitcher. + +"Why is the door open?" she demanded. Then her eyes went over to the +fireplace, where but a moment before the supper had been. Had been; for +not an eatable article remained except the potatoes and the cabbages and +cabbage water on the hearth. From far without rang back a long howl +which had in it a note of triumph. + +This was the end of the merrymaking. The guests were too startled and +terrified to remain for another supper, even had there been time to cook +one. Potatoes, black bread, and beer remained, and with these the braver +of the guests consoled themselves, while the more timorous hurried home, +well protected with guns, to barricade their doors, and rejoice that it +was their intended feast and not themselves which was being discussed at +that moment by the hungry denizens of the forest above. + +There was a great furbishing up of bolts and locks next day, and a +fitting of stout bars to doors which had hitherto done very well without +such safeguards; but it was a long time before any inhabitant of St. +Gervas felt it safe to go from home alone, or without a rifle over his +shoulder. + +So the wolves had the best of the merrymaking, and the villagers +decidedly the worst. Still, the wolves were not altogether to be +congratulated; for, stung by their disappointment and by the unmerciful +laughter and ridicule of the other villages, the men of St. Gervas +organized a great wolf-hunt later in the spring, and killed such a +number that to hear a wolf howl has become a rare thing in that part of +the Oberland. + +"Ha! ha! my fine fellow, you are the one that made off with our mutton +so fast," said the stout forester, as he stripped the skin from the +largest of the slain. "Your days for mutton are over, my friend. It will +be one while before you and your thievish pack come down again to +interrupt Christian folk at their supper!" + +But, in spite of Solomon's bold words, the tale of the frustrated feast +has passed into a proverb; and to-day in the neighboring chalets and +hamlets you may hear people say, "Don't count on your mutton till it's +in your mouth, or it may fare with you as with the merry-makers at St. +Gervas." + + + + +THREE LITTLE CANDLES. + + +The winter dusk was settling down upon the old farmhouse where three +generations of Marshes had already lived and died. It stood on a gentle +rise of ground above the Kittery sands,--a low, wide, rambling +structure, outgrowth of the gradual years since great-grandfather Marsh, +in the early days of the colony, had built the first log-house, and so +laid the foundation of the settlement. + +This log-house still existed. It served as a lean-to for the larger +building, and held the buttery, the "out-kitchen" for rougher work, and +the woodshed. Moss and lichens clustered thickly between the old logs, +to which time had communicated a rich brown tint; a mat of luxuriant +hop-vine clothed the porch, and sent fantastic garlands up to the +ridgepole. The small heavily-puttied panes in the windows had taken on +that strange iridescence which comes to glass with the lapse of time, +and glowed, when the light touched them at a certain angle, with odd +gleams of red, opal, and green-blue. + +On one of the central panes was an odd blur or cloud. Cynthia Marsh +liked to "play" that it was a face,--the face of a girl who used to +crawl out of that window in the early days of the house, but had long +since grown up and passed away. It was rather a ghostly playmate, but +Cynthia enjoyed her. + +This same imaginative little Cynthia was sitting with her brother and +sister in the "new kitchen," which yet was a pretty old one, and had +rafters overhead, and bunches of herbs and strings of dried apples tied +to them. It was still the days of pot-hooks and trammels, and a kettle +of bubbling mush hung on the crane over the fire, which smelt very good. +Every now and then Hepzibah, the old servant, would come and give it a +stir, plunging her long spoon to the very bottom of the pot. It was the +"Children's Hour," though no Longfellow had as yet given the pretty name +to that delightful time between daylight and dark, when the toils of the +day are over, and even grown people can fold their busy hands and rest +and talk and love each other, with no sense of wasted time to spoil +their pleasure. + +"I say," began Reuben, who, if he had lived to-day, would have put on +his cards "Reuben Marsh, 4th," "what do you think? We're going to have +our little candles to-night. Aunt Doris said that mother said so. Isn't +that famous!" + +"Are we really?" cried Cynthia, clasping her hands. "How glad I am! It's +more than a year since we had any little candles, and though I've tried +to be good, I was so afraid when you broke the oil-lamp, the other day, +that it would put them off. I do love them so!" + +"How many candles may we have?" asked little Eunice. + +"Oh, there are only three,--one for each of us. Mother gave the rest +away, you know. Have you made up any story yet, Eunice?" + +"I did make one, but I've forgotten part of it. It was a great while +ago, when I thought we were surely going to get the candles, and then +Reuben had that quarrel with Friend Amos's son, and mother would not let +us have them. She said a boy who gave place to wrath did not deserve a +little candle." + +"I know," said Reuben, penitently. "But that was a great while ago, and +I've not given place to wrath since. You must begin and think of your +story very hard, Eunice, or the candle will burn out while you are +remembering it." + +These "little candles," for the amusement of children, were an ancient +custom in New England, long practised in the Marsh family. When the +great annual candle-dipping took place, and the carefully saved tallow, +with its due admixture of water and bayberry wax for hardness, was made +hot in the kettle, and the wicks, previously steeped in alum, were tied +in bunches so that no two should touch each other, and dipped and dried, +and dipped again, at the end of each bundle was hung two or three tiny +candles, much smaller than the rest. These were rewards for the children +when they should earn them by being unusually good. They were lit at +bedtime, and, by immemorial law, so long as the candles burned, the +children might tell each other ghost or fairy stories, which at other +times were discouraged, as having a bad effect on the mind. This +privilege was greatly valued, and the advent of the little candles made +a sort of holiday, when holidays were few and far between. + +"I suppose Reuben will have his candle first, as he is the oldest," said +Eunice. + +"Mother said last year that we should have them all three on the same +night," replied Cynthia. "She said she would rather that we lay awake +till half-past nine for once, than till half-past eight for three times. +It's much nicer, I think. It's like having plenty to eat at one dinner, +instead of half-enough several days running. Eunice, you'd better burn +your candle first, I think, because you get sleepy a great deal sooner +than Reuby or I do. You needn't light it till after you're in bed, you +know, and that will make it last longer. When it's done, I'll hurry and +go to bed too, and then we'll light mine; and Reuben can do the same, +and if he leaves his door open, we shall hear his story perfectly well. +Oh, what fun it will be! I wish there were ever and ever so many little +candles,--a hundred, at the very least!" + +"Hepsy, ain't supper nearly ready? We're in such a hurry to-night!" said +Eunice. + +"Why, what are you in a hurry about?" demanded Hepsy, giving a last stir +to the mush, which had grown deliciously thick. + +"We want to go to bed early." + +"That's a queer reason! You're not so sharp set after bed, as a general +thing. Well, the mush is done. Reuby, ring the bell at the shed door, +and as soon as the men come in, we'll be ready." + +It was a good supper. The generous heat of the great fireplace in the +Marsh kitchen seemed to communicate a special savor of its own to +everything that was cooked before it, as if the noble hickory logs lent +a forest flavor to the food. The brown bread and beans and the squash +pies from the deep brick oven were excellent; and the "pumpkin sweets," +from the same charmed receptacle, had come out a deep rich red color, +jellied with juice to their cores. Nothing could have improved them, +unless it were the thick yellow cream which Mrs. Marsh poured over each +as she passed it. The children ate as only hearty children can eat, but +the recollection of the little candles was all the time in their minds, +and the moment that Reuben had finished his third apple he began to +fidget. + +"Mayn't we go to bed now?" he asked. + +"Not till father has returned thanks," said his mother, rebukingly. "You +are glad enough to take the gifts of the Lord, Reuben. You should be +equally ready to pay back the poor tribute of a decent gratitude." + +Reuben sat abashed while Mr. Marsh uttered the customary words, which +was rather a short prayer than a long grace. The boy did not dare to +again allude to the candles, but stood looking sorry and shamefaced, +till his mother, laying her hand indulgently on his shoulder, slipped +the little candle in his fingers. + +"Thee didn't mean it, dear, I know," she whispered. "It's natural enough +that thee shouldst be impatient. Now take thy candle, and be off. +Cynthia, Eunice, here are the other two, and remember, all of you, that +not a word must be told of the stories when once the candles burn out. +This is the test of obedience. Be good children, and I'll come up later +to see that all is safe." + +Mrs. Marsh was of Quaker stock, but she only reverted to the once +familiar _thee_ and _thou_ at times when she felt particularly kind and +tender. The children liked to have her do so. It meant that mother loved +them more than usual. + +The bedrooms over the kitchen, in which the children slept, were very +plain, with painted floors and scant furniture; but they were used to +them, and missed nothing. The moon was shining, so that little Eunice +found no difficulty in undressing without a light. As soon as she was in +bed, she called to the others, who were waiting in Reuben's room, "I'm +all ready!" + +A queer clicking noise followed. It was made by Reuben's striking the +flint of the tinder-box. In another moment the first of the little +candles was lighted. They fetched it in; and the others sat on the foot +of the bed while Eunice, raised on her pillow, with red, excited cheeks, +began:-- + +"I've remembered all about my story, and this is it: Once there was a +Fairy. He was not a bad fairy, but a very good one. One day he broke his +wing, and the Fairy King said he mustn't come to court any more till he +got it mended. This was very hard, because glue and things like that +don't stick to Fairies' wings, you know." + +"Couldn't he have tied it up and boiled it in milk?" asked Cynthia, who +had once seen a saucer so treated, with good effect. + +"Why, Cynthia Marsh! Do you suppose Fairies like to have their wings +boiled? I never! Of course they don't! Well, the poor Fairy did not +know what to do. He hopped away, for he could not fly, and pretty soon +he met an old woman. + +"'Goody,' said he, 'can you tell me what will mend a Fairy's broken +wing?' + +"'Is it your wing that is broken?' asked the old woman. + +"'Yes,' said the Fairy, speaking very sadly. + +"'There is only one thing,' said the old woman. 'If you can find a girl +who has never said a cross word in her life, and she will put the pieces +together, and hold them tight, and say, "_Ram shackla alla balla ba_," +three times, it will mend in a minute.' + +"So the Fairy thanked her, and went his way, dragging the poor wing +behind him. By and by he came to a wood, and there in front of a little +house was the prettiest girl he had ever seen. Her eyes were as blue as, +as blue as--as the edges of mother's company saucers! And her hair, +which was the color of gold, curled down to her feet. + +"'A girl with hair and eyes like that couldn't say a cross word to save +her life,' thought the Fairy. He was just going to speak to her. She +couldn't see him, you know, because he was indivisible--" + +"'Invisible,' you mean," interrupted Reuben. + +"Oh, Reuben, don't stop her! See how the tallow is running down the side +of the candle! She'll never have time to finish," put in Cynthia, +anxiously. + +"I meant 'invisible,' of course," went on Eunice, speaking fast. "Well, +just then a woman came out of the house. It was the pretty girl's +mother. + +"'Estella,' she said, 'I want you to go for the cows, because your +father is sick.' + +"'Oh, bother!' said the pretty girl. 'I don't want to! I hate going for +cows. I wish father wouldn't go and get sick!' Just think of a girl's +speaking like that to her mother! And the Fairy sighed, for he thought, +'My wing won't get mended here,' and he hopped away. + +"By and by he came to a house in another wood, and there was another +girl. She wasn't pretty at all. She had short stubby brown hair like +Cynthia's, and a turn-up nose like me, and her freckles were as big as +Reuben's, but she looked nice and kind. + +"The Fairy didn't have much hope that a girl who was as homely as that +could mend wings. But while he was waiting, another woman came out. It +was the turned-up-nose girl's mother, and she said, 'I want you to go +for the cows to-night, because your father has broken his leg.' + +"And the girl smiled just as sweet, and she said, 'Yes, mother, I'll be +glad to go.' + +"Then the Fairy rejoiced, and he came forward and said--Oh, dear!" + +This was not what the Fairy said, but what Eunice said; for at that +moment the little candle went out. + +"Well, I am glad you got as far as you did," whispered Cynthia, "for I +guess the turned-up-nose girl could mend the wing. Now, Reuby, if you'll +go into your room I'll not be two minutes. And then you can light my +candle." + +In less than two minutes all was ready. This time there were two little +girls in bed, and Reuben sat alone at the foot, ready to listen. + +"My story," began Cynthia, "is about that girl in the window-pane in the +ell. Her name was Mercy Marsh, and she lived in this house." + +"Is it true?" asked Eunice. + +"No, it's made up, but I'm going to make believe that it's true. She +slept in the corn chamber,--it was a bedroom then,--and she had that +yellow painted bedstead of Hepzibah's. + +"There was a hiding-place under the floor of the room. It was made to +put things in when Indians came, or the English,--money and spoons, and +things like that. + +"One day when Mercy was spinning under the big elm, a man came running +down the road. He was a young man, and very handsome, and he had on a +sort of uniform. + +"'Hide me!' he cried. 'They will kill me if they catch me. Hide me, +quick!' + +"'Who will kill you?' asked Mercy. + +"Then the young man told her that he had accidentally shot a man who was +out hunting with him, and that the man's brothers, who were very bad +people, had sworn to have his blood. + +"Then Mercy took his hand, and led him quickly up to her room, and +lifted the cover of the hiding-place, and told him to get in. And he got +in, but first he said, 'Fair maiden, if I come out alive, I shall have +somewhat to say to thee.' And Mercy blushed." + +"What did he mean?" asked Eunice, innocently. + +"Oh, just love-making and nonsense!" put in Reuben. "Hurry up, Cynthia! +Come to the fighting. The candle's all but burned out." + +"There isn't going to be any fighting," returned Cynthia. "Well, Mercy +pulled the bedside carpet over the cover, and she set that red +candle-stand on one corner of it and a chair on the other corner, and +went back to her spinning. She had hardly begun before there was a +rustling in the bushes, and two men with guns in their hands came out. + +"'Which way did he go?' they shouted. + +"'Who?' she said, and she looked up so quietly that they never suspected +her. + +"'Has no one gone by?' they asked her. + +"'No one,' she said; and you know this wasn't a lie, for the young man +did not go by. He stopped! + +"'There is the back door open,' she went on, 'and you are welcome to +search, if you desire it. My father is away, but he will be here soon.' +She said this because she feared the men. + +"So the men searched, but they found nothing, and Mercy's room looked so +neat and peaceful that they did not like to disturb it, and just looked +in at the door. And when they were gone, Mercy went up and raised the +cover, and the youth said that he loved her, and that if the Lord +willed, he--" + +Pop! The second candle went suddenly out. + +"It's a shame!" cried Reuben, dancing with vexation. "It seems as if the +blamed things knew when we most wanted them to last!" + +"Oh, Reuben! don't say 'blamed.'" + +"I forgot. Well, blame-worthy, then. There's no harm in that." + +"We shall never know if the young man married Mercy," said little +Eunice, lamentably. + +"Oh, of course he did! That's the way stories always end." + +"Now, Reuben, hurry to bed, and when you are all ready, light your +candle, and if you speak loud we shall hear every word." + +This was Reuben's story: "Once there was a Ghost. He had committed a +murder, and that was the reason he had to go alone and fly about on cold +nights in a white shirt. + +"He used to look in at windows and see people sitting by fires, and envy +them. And he would moan and chatter his teeth, and then they would say +that he was the wind." + +"Oh, Reuben! is it going to be very awful?" demanded Cynthia, +apprehensively. + +"Not very. Only just enough to half-scare you to death! He would put +his hand out when girls stood by the door, and they would feel as if a +whole pitcher of cold water had been poured down their backs. + +"Once a boy came to the door. He was the son of the murdered man. The +Ghost was afraid of him. 'Thomas!' said the Ghost. + +"'Who speaks?' said the boy. He couldn't have heard if he hadn't been +the son of the murdered man. + +"'I'm the Ghost of your father's slayer,' said the Ghost. 'Tell me what +I can do to be forgiven.' + +"'I don't think you can be forgiven,' said the boy. Then the Ghost gave +such a dreadful groan that the boy felt sorry for him. + +"'I'll tell you, then,' he said. 'Go to my father's grave, and lay upon +it a perfectly white blackberry, and a perfectly black snowdrop, and a +valuable secret, and a hair from the head of a really happy person, and +you shall be forgiven!' + +"So the Ghost set out to find these four things. He had to bleach the +blackberry and dye the snowdrop, and he got the hair from the head of a +little baby who happened to be born with hair and hadn't had time to be +unhappy, and the secret was about a goldmine that only the Ghost knew +about. But just as he was laying them on the grave, a cold hand +clutched--" The sentence ended in a three-fold shriek, for just at this +exciting juncture the last candle went out. + +"Children," said Mrs. Marsh, opening the door, "I'm afraid you've been +frightening yourselves with your stories. That was foolish. I am glad +there are no more little candles. Now, not another word to-night." + +She straightened the tossed coverlids, heard their prayers, and went +away. In a few minutes all that remained of the long-anticipated treat +were three little drops of tallow where three little candles had quite +burned out, three stories not quite told, and three children fast +asleep. + + + + +UNCLE AND AUNT. + + +Uncle and Aunt were a very dear and rather queer old couple, who lived +in one of the small villages which dot the long indented coast of Long +Island Sound. It was four miles to the railway, so the village had not +waked up from its colonial sleep on the building of the line, as had +other villages nearer to its course, but remained the same shady, quiet +place, with never a steam-whistle nor a manufactory bell to break its +repose. + +Sparlings-Neck was the name of the place. No hotel had ever been built +there, so no summer visitors came to give it a fictitious air of life +for a few weeks of the year. The century-old elms waved above the +gambrel roofs of the white, green-blinded houses, and saw the same names +on doorplates and knockers that had been there when the century began: +"Benjamin," "Wilson," "Kirkland," "Benson," "Reinike,"--there they all +were, with here and there the prefix of a distinguishing initial, as "J. +L. Benson," "Eleazar Wilson," or "Paul Reinike." Paul Reinike, fourth of +the name who had dwelt in that house, was the "Uncle" of this story. + +Uncle was tall and gaunt and gray, of the traditional New England type. +He had a shrewd, dry face, with wise little wrinkles about the corners +of the eyes, and just a twinkle of fun and a quiet kindliness in the +lines of the mouth. People said the squire was a master-hand at a +bargain. And so he was; but if he got the uttermost penny out of all +legitimate business transactions, he was always ready to give that +penny, and many more, whenever deserving want knocked at his door, or a +good work to be done showed itself distinctly as needing help. + +Aunt, too, was a New Englander, but of a slightly different type. She +was the squire's cousin before she became his wife; and she had the +family traits, but with a difference. She was spare, but she was also +very small, and had a distinct air of authority which made her like a +fairy godmother. She was very quiet and comfortable in her ways, but she +was full of "faculty,"--that invaluable endowment which covers such a +multitude of capacities. Nobody's bread or pies were equal to Aunt's. +Her preserves never fermented; her cranberry always jellied; her +sponge-cake rose to heights unattained by her neighbors', and stayed +there, instead of ignominiously "flopping" when removed from the oven, +like the sponge-cake of inferior housekeepers. Everything in the old +home moved like clock-work. Meals were ready to a minute; the mahogany +furniture glittered like dark-red glass; the tall clock in the entry +was never a tick out of the way; and yet Aunt never appeared to be +particularly busy. To one not conversant with her methods, she gave the +impression of being generally at leisure, sitting in her rocking-chair +in the "keeping-room," hemming cap-strings, and reading Emerson, for +Aunt liked to keep up with the thought of the day. + +Hesse declared that either she sat up and did things after the rest of +the family had gone to bed, or else that she kept a Brownie to work for +her; but Hesse was a saucy child, and Aunt only smiled indulgently at +these sarcasms. + +Hesse was the only young thing in the shabby old home; for, though it +held many handsome things, it was shabby. Even the cat was a sober +matron. The old white mare had seen almost half as many years as her +master. The very rats and mice looked gray and bearded when you caught a +glimpse of them. But Hesse was youth incarnate, and as refreshing in +the midst of the elderly stillness which surrounded her as a frolicsome +puff of wind, or a dancing ray of sunshine. She had come to live with +Uncle and Aunt when she was ten years old; she was now nearly eighteen, +and she loved the quaint house and its quainter occupants with her whole +heart. + +Hesse's odd name, which had been her mother's, her grandmother's, and +her great-grandmother's before her, was originally borrowed from that of +the old German town whence the first Reinike had emigrated to America. +She had not spent quite all of the time at Sparlings-Neck since her +mother died. There had been two years at boarding-school, broken by long +vacations, and once she had made a visit in New York to her mother's +cousin, Mrs. De Lancey, who considered herself a sort of joint guardian +over Hesse, and was apt to send a frock or a hat, now and then, as the +fashions changed; that "the child might not look exactly like Noah, and +Mrs. Noah, and the rest of the people in the ark," she told her +daughter. This visit to New York had taken place when Hesse was about +fifteen; now she was to make another. And, just as this story opens, she +and Aunt were talking over her wardrobe for the occasion. + +"I shall give you this China-crape shawl," said Aunt, decisively. + +Hesse looked admiringly, but a little doubtfully, at the soft, clinging +fabric, rich with masses of yellow-white embroidery. + +"I am afraid girls don't wear shawls now," she ventured to say. + +"My dear," said Aunt, "a handsome thing is always handsome; never mind +if it is not the last novelty, put it on, all the same. The Reinikes can +wear what they like, I hope! They certainly know better what is proper +than these oil-and-shoddy people in New York that we read about in the +newspapers. Now, here is my India shawl,"--unpinning a towel, and +shaking out a quantity of dried rose-leaves. "I _lend_ you this; not +give it, you understand." + +[Illustration: "I shall give you this China-crape shawl," said aunt, +decisively.--PAGE 88.] + +"Thank you, Aunt, dear." Hesse was secretly wondering what Cousin Julia +and the girls would say to the India shawl. + +"You must have a pelisse, of some sort," continued her aunt; "but +perhaps your Cousin De Lancey can see to that. Though I _might_ have +Miss Lewis for a day, and cut over that handsome camlet of mine. It's +been lying there in camphor for fifteen years, of no use to anybody." + +"Oh, but that would be a pity!" cried Hesse, with innocent wiliness. +"The girls are all wearing little short jackets now, trimmed with fur, +or something like that; it would be a pity to cut up that great cloak to +make a little bit of a wrap for me." + +"Fur?" said her aunt, catching at the word; "the very thing! How will +this do?" dragging out of the camphor-chest an enormous cape, which +seemed made of tortoise-shell cats, so yellow and brown and mottled was +it. "Won't this do for a trimming, or would you rather have it as it +is?" + +"I shall have to ask Cousin Julia," replied Hesse. "Oh, Aunt, dear, +don't give me any more! You really mustn't! You are robbing yourself of +everything!" For Aunt was pulling out yards of yellow lace, lengths of +sash ribbon of faded colors and wonderful thickness, strange, +old-fashioned trinkets. + +"And here's your grandmother's wedding-gown--and mine!" she said; "you +had better take them both. I have little occasion for dress here, and I +like you to have them, Hesse. Say no more about it, my dear." + +There was never any gainsaying Aunt, so Hesse departed for New York with +her trunk full of antiquated finery, sage-green and "pale-colored" silks +that would almost stand alone; Mechlin lace, the color of a spring +buttercup; hair rings set with pearls, and brooches such as no one sees, +nowadays, outside of a curiosity shop. Great was the amusement which the +unpacking caused in Madison Avenue. + +"Yet the things are really handsome," said Mrs. De Lancey, surveying the +fur cape critically. "This fur is queer and old-timey, but it will make +quite an effective trimming. As for this crape shawl, I have an idea: +you shall have an overdress made of it, Hesse. It will be lovely with a +silk slip. You may laugh, Pauline, but you will wish you had one like it +when you see Hesse in hers. It only needs a little taste in adapting, +and fortunately these quaint old things are just coming into fashion." + +Pauline, a pretty girl,--modern to her fingertips--held up a square +brooch, on which, under pink glass, shone a complication of initials in +gold, the whole set in a narrow twisted rim of pearls and garnets, and +asked: + +"How do you propose to 'adapt' this, Mamma?" + +"Oh," cried Hesse, "I wouldn't have that 'adapted' for the world! It +must stay just as it is. It belonged to my grandmother, and it has a +love-story connected with it." + +"A love-story! Oh, tell it to us!" said Grace, the second of the De +Lancey girls. + +"Why," explained Hesse; "you see, my grandmother was once engaged to a +man named John Sherwood. He was a 'beautiful young man,' Aunt says; but +very soon after they were engaged, he fell ill with consumption, and had +to go to Madeira. He gave Grandmamma that pin before he sailed. See, +there are his initials, 'J. S.,' and hers, 'H. L. R.,' for Hesse Lee +Reinike, you know. He gave her a copy of 'Thomas a Kempis' besides, with +'The Lord do so to me, and more also, if aught but death part thee and +me,' written on the title-page. I have the book, too; Uncle gave it to +me for my own." + +"And did _he_ ever come back?" asked Pauline. + +"No," answered Hesse. "He died in Madeira, and was buried there; and +quite a long time afterward, Grandmamma married my grandfather. I'm so +fond of that queer old brooch, I like to wear it sometimes." + +"How _does_ it look?" demanded Pauline. + +"You shall see for yourself, for I'll wear it to-night," said Hesse. + +And when Hesse came down to dinner with the quaint ornament shining +against her white neck on a bit of black velvet ribbon, even Pauline +owned that the effect was not bad,--queer, of course, and unlike other +people's things, but certainly not bad. + +Mrs. De Lancey had a quick eye for character, and she noted with +satisfaction that her young cousin was neither vexed at, nor affected +by, her cousins' criticisms on her outfit. Hesse saw for herself that +her things were unusual, and not in the prevailing style, but she knew +them to be handsome of their kind, and she loved them as a part of her +old home. There was, too, in her blood a little of the family pride +which had made Aunt say, "The Reinikes know what is proper, I hope." So +she wore her odd fur and made-over silks and the old laces with no sense +of being ill-dressed, and that very fact "carried it off," and made her +seem well dressed. Cousin Julia saw that her wardrobe was sufficiently +modernized not to look absurd, or attract too much attention, and there +was something in Hesse's face and figure which suited the character of +her clothes. People took notice of this or that, now and again,--said it +was pretty, and where could they get such a thing?--and, flattery of +flatteries, some of the girls copied her effects! + +"Estelle Morgan says, if you don't mind, she means to have a ball-dress +exactly like that blue one of yours," Pauline told her one day. + +"Oh, how funny! Aunt's wedding-gown made up with surah!" cried Hesse. +"Do you remember how you laughed at the idea, Polly, and said it would +be horrid?" + +"Yes, and I did think so," said Polly; "but somehow it looks very nice +on you. When it is hanging up in the closet, I don't care much for it." + +"Well, luckily, no one need look at it when it is hanging up in the +closet," retorted Hesse, laughing. + +Her freshness, her sweet temper, and bright capacity for enjoyment had +speedily made Hesse a success among the young people of her cousins' +set. Girls liked her, and ran after her as a social favorite; and she +had flowers and german favors and flatteries enough to spoil her, had +she been spoilable. But she kept a steady head through all these +distractions, and never forgot, however busy she might be, to send off +the long journal-letter, which was the chief weekly event to Uncle and +Aunt. + +Three months had been the time fixed for Hesse's stay in New York, but, +without her knowledge, Mrs. De Lancey had written to beg for a little +extension. Gayeties thickened as Lent drew near, and there was one +special fancy dress ball, at Mrs. Shuttleworth's, about which Hesse had +heard a great deal, and which she had secretly regretted to lose. She +was, therefore, greatly delighted at a letter from Aunt, giving her +leave to stay a fortnight longer. + +"Uncle will come for you on Shrove-Tuesday," wrote her Aunt. "He has +some business to attend to, so he will stay over till Thursday, and you +can take your pleasure till the last possible moment." + +"How lovely!" cried Hesse. "How good of you to write, Cousin Julia, and +I _am_ so pleased to go to Mrs. Shuttleworth's ball!" + +"What will you wear?" asked Pauline. + +"Oh, I haven't thought of that, yet. I must invent something, for I +don't wish to buy another dress, I have had so many things already." + +"Now, Hesse, you can't invent anything. It's impossible to make a fancy +dress out of the ragbag," said Pauline, whose ideas were all of an +expensive kind. + +"We shall see," said Hesse. "I think I shall keep my costume as a +surprise,--except from you, Cousin Julia. I shall want you to help me, +but none of the others shall know anything about it till I come +down-stairs." + +This was a politic move on the part of Hesse. She was resolved to spend +no money, for she knew that her winter had cost more than Uncle had +expected, and more than it might be convenient for him to spare; yet she +wished to avert discussion and remonstrance, and at the same time to +prevent Mrs. De Lancey from giving her a new dress, which was very often +that lady's easy way of helping Hesse out of her toilet difficulties. So +a little seamstress was procured, and Cousin Julia taken into counsel. +Hesse kept her door carefully locked for a day or two; and when, on the +evening of the party, she came down attired as "My great-grandmother," +in a short-waisted, straight-skirted white satin; with a big +ante-revolutionary hat tied under her dimpled chin; a fichu of mull, +embroidered in colored silks, knotted across her breast; long white silk +mittens, and a reticule of pearl beads hanging from her girdle,--even +Pauline could find no fault. The costume was as becoming as it was +queer; and all the girls told Hesse that she had never looked so well in +her life. + +Eight or ten particular friends of Pauline and Grace had arranged to +meet at the De Lanceys', and all start together for the ball. The room +was quite full of gay figures as "My great-grandmother" came down; it +was one of those little moments of triumph which girls prize. The +door-bell rang as she slowly turned before the throng, to exhibit the +back of the wonderful gored and plaited skirt. There was a little +colloquy in the hall, the butler opened the door, and in walked a figure +which looked singularly out of place among the pretty, fantastic, +girlish forms,--a tall, spare, elderly figure, in a coat of +old-fashioned cut. A carpet-bag was in his hand. He was no other than +Uncle, come a day before he was expected. + +His entrance made a little pause. + +"What an extraordinary-looking person!" whispered Maud Ashurst to +Pauline, who colored, hesitated, and did not, for a moment, know what to +do. Hesse, standing with her back to the door, had seen nothing; but, +struck by the silence, she turned. A meaner nature than hers might have +shared Pauline's momentary embarrassment, but there was not a mean fibre +in the whole of Hesse's frank, generous being. + +"Uncle! dear Uncle!" she cried; and, running forward, she threw her arms +around the lean old neck, and gave him half a dozen of her warmest +kisses. + +"It is my uncle," she explained to the others. "We didn't expect him +till to-morrow; and isn't it too delightful that he should come in time +to see us all in our dresses!" + +Then she drew him this way and that, introducing him to all her +particular friends, chattering, dimpling, laughing with such evident +enjoyment, such an assured sense that it was the pleasantest thing +possible to have her uncle there, that every one else began to share it. +The other girls, who, with a little encouragement, a little reserve and +annoyed embarrassment on the part of Hesse, would have voted Uncle "a +countrified old quiz," and, while keeping up the outward forms of +civility, would have despised him in their hearts, infected by Hesse's +sweet happiness, began to talk to him with the wish to please, and +presently to discover how pleasant his face was, and how shrewd and +droll his ideas and comments; and it ended by all pronouncing him an +"old dear,"--so true it is that genuine and unaffected love and respect +carry weight with them for all the rest of the world. + +Uncle was immensely amused by the costumes. He recalled the fancy balls +of his youth, and gave the party some ideas on dress which had never +occurred to any of them before. He could not at all understand the +principle of selection on which the different girls had chosen their +various characters. + +"That gypsy queen looked as if she ought to be teaching a +Sunday-school," he told Hesse afterward. "Little Red Riding Hood was too +big for her wolf; and as for that scampish little nun of yours, I don't +believe the stoutest convent ever built could hold her in for half a +day." + +"Come with us to Mrs. Shuttleworth's. It will be a pretty scene, and +something for you to tell Cousin Marianne about when you go back," urged +Mrs. De Lancey. + +"Oh, do, do!" chimed in Hesse. "It will be twice as much fun if you are +there, Uncle!" + +But Uncle was tired by his journey, and would not consent; and I am +afraid that Pauline and Grace were a little relieved by his decision. +False shame and the fear of "people" are powerful influences. + +Three days later, Hesse's long, delightful visit ended, and she was +speeding home under Uncle's care. + +"You must write and invite some of those fine young folk to come up to +see you in June," he told her. + +"That will be delightful," said Hesse. But when she came to think about +it later, she was not so sure about its being delightful. + +There is nothing like a long absence from home to open one's eyes to the +real aspect of familiar things. The Sparlings-Neck house looked wofully +plain and old-fashioned, even to Hesse, when contrasted with the +elegance of Madison Avenue; how much more so, she reflected, would it +look to the girls! + +She thought of Uncle's after-dinner pipe; of the queer little chamber, +opening from the dining-room, where he and Aunt chose to sleep; of the +green-painted woodwork of the spare bedrooms, and the blue paper-shades, +tied up with a cord, which Aunt clung to because they were in fashion +when she was a girl; and for a few foolish moments she felt that she +would rather not have her friends come at all, than have them come to +see all this, and perhaps make fun of it. Only for a few moments; then +her more generous nature asserted itself with a bound. + +"How mean of me to even think of such a thing!" she told herself, +indignantly,--"to feel ashamed to have people know what my own home is +like, and Uncle and Aunt, who are so good to me! Hesse Reinike, I should +like to hire some one to give you a good whipping! The girls _shall_ +come, and I'll make the old house look just as sweet as I can, and they +shall like it, and have a beautiful time from the moment they come till +they go away, if I can possibly give it to them." + +To punish herself for what she considered an unworthy feeling, she +resolved not to ask Aunt to let her change the blue paper-shades for +white curtains, but to have everything exactly as it usually was. But +Aunt had her own ideas and her pride of housekeeping to consider. As the +time of the visit drew near, laundering and bleaching seemed to be +constantly going on, and Jane, the old housemaid, was kept busy tacking +dimity valances and fringed hangings on the substantial four-post +bedsteads, and arranging fresh muslin covers over the toilet-tables. +Treasures unknown to Hesse were drawn out of their receptacles,--bits of +old embroidery, tamboured tablecloths and "crazy quilts," vases and +bow-pots of pretty old china for the bureaus and chimney-pieces. Hesse +took a long drive to the woods, and brought back great masses of ferns, +pink azalea, and wild laurel. All the neighbors' gardens were laid under +contribution. When all was in order, with ginger-jars full of cool white +daisies and golden buttercups standing on the shining mahogany tables, +bunches of blue lupines on the mantel, the looking-glasses wreathed with +traveller's joy, a great bowl full of early roses and quantities of +lilies-of-the-valley, the old house looked cosey enough and smelt sweet +enough to satisfy the most fastidious taste. + +Hesse drove over with Uncle to the station to meet her guests. They took +the big carryall, which, with squeezing, would hold seven; and a wagon +followed for the luggage. There were five girls coming; for, besides +Pauline and Grace, Hesse had invited Georgie Berrian, Maud Ashurst, and +Ella Waring, who were the three special favorites among her New York +friends. + +The five flocked out of the train, looking so dainty and stylish that +they made the old carryall seem shabbier than ever by contrast. Maud +Ashurst cast one surprised look at it and at the old white mare,--she +had never seen just such a carriage before; but the quality of the +equipage was soon forgotten, as Uncle twitched the reins, and they +started down the long lane-like road which led to Sparlings-Neck and was +Hesse's particular delight. + +The station and the dusty railroad were forgotten almost +immediately,--lost in the sense of complete country freshness. On either +hand rose tangled banks of laurel and barberries, sweet-ferns and +budding grapevines, overarched by tall trees, and sending out delicious +odors; while mingling with and blending all came, borne on a shoreward +wind, the strong salt fragrance of the sea. + +"What is it? What can it be? I never smelt anything like it!" cried the +girls from the city. + +"Now, girls," cried Hesse, turning her bright face around from the +driver's seat, "this is real, absolute country, you know,--none of the +make-believes which you get at Newport or up the Hudson. Everything we +have is just as queer and old-fashioned as it can be. You won't be asked +to a single party while you are here, and there isn't the ghost of a +young man in the neighborhood. Well, yes, there may be a ghost, but +there is no young man. You must just make up your minds, all of you, to +a dull time, and then you'll find that it's lovely." + +"It's sure to be lovely wherever you are, you dear thing!" declared Ella +Waring, with a little rapturous squeeze. + +I fancy that, just at first, the city girls did think the place very +queer. None of them had ever seen just such an old house as the +Reinikes' before. The white wainscots with their toothed mouldings +matched by the cornices above, the droll little cupboards in the walls, +the fire-boards pasted with gay pictures, the queer closets and +clothes-presses occurring just where no one would naturally have looked +for them, and having, each and all, an odd shut-up odor, as of by-gone +days,--all seemed very strange to them. But the flowers and the green +elms and Hesse's warm welcome were delightful; so were Aunt's waffles +and wonderful tarts, the strawberries smothered in country cream, and +the cove oysters and clams which came in, deliciously stewed, for tea; +and they soon pronounced the visit "a lark," and Sparlings-Neck a +paradise. + +There were long drives in the woods, picnics in the pine groves, +bathing-parties on the beach, morning sittings under the trees with an +interesting book; and when a northeaster came, and brought with it what +seemed a brief return of winter, there was a crackling fire, a +candy-pull, and a charming evening spent in sitting on the floor +telling ghost-stories, with the room only lighted by the fitfully +blazing wood, and with cold creeps running down their backs! Altogether, +the fortnight was a complete success, and every one saw its end with +reluctance. + +"I wish we were going to stay all summer!" said Georgie Berrian. +"Newport will seem stiff and tiresome after this." + +"I never had so good a time,--never!" declared Ella. "And, Hesse, I do +think your aunt and uncle are the dearest old people I ever saw!" That +pleased Hesse most of all. But what pleased her still more was when, +after the guests were gone, and the house restored to its old order, and +the regular home life begun again, Uncle put his arm around her, and +gave her a kiss,--not a bedtime kiss, or one called for by any special +occasion, but an extra kiss, all of his own accord. + +"A dear child," he said; "not a bit ashamed of the old folks, was she? +I liked that, Hesse." + +"Ashamed of you and Aunt? I should think not!" answered Hesse, with a +flush. + +Uncle gave a dry little chuckle. + +"Well, well," he said, "some girls would have been; you weren't,--that's +all the difference. You're a good child, Hesse." + + + + +THE CORN-BALL MONEY, AND WHAT BECAME OF IT. + + +Dotty and Dimple were two little sisters, who looked so much alike that +most people took them for twins. They both had round faces, blue eyes, +straight brown hair, cut short in the neck, and cheeks as firm and pink +as fall apples; and, though Dotty was eleven months the oldest, Dimple +was the taller by half an inch, so that altogether it was very +confusing. + +I don't believe any twins could love each other better than did these +little girls. Nobody ever heard them utter a quarrelsome word from the +time they waked in the morning, and began to chatter and giggle in bed +like two little squirrels, to the moment when they fell asleep at night, +with arms tight clasped round each other's necks. They liked the same +things, did the same things, and played together all day long without +being tired. Their father's farm was two miles from the nearest +neighbor, and three from the schoolhouse; so they didn't go to school, +and no little boys and girls ever came to see them. + +Should you think it would be lonely to live so? Dotty and Dimple didn't. +They had each other for playmates, and all outdoors to play in, and that +was enough. + +The farm was a wild, beautiful spot. A river ran round two sides of it; +and quite near the house it "met with an accident," as Dotty said; that +is, it tumbled over some high rocks in a waterfall, and then, picking +itself up, took another jump, and landed, all white and foaming, in a +deep wooded glen. + +The water where it fell was dazzling with rainbows, like soap-bubbles; +and the pool at the bottom had the color of a green emerald, only that +all over the top little flakes of sparkling spray swam and glittered in +the sun. Altogether it was a wonderful place, and the children were +never tired of watching the cascade or hearing the rush and roar of its +leap. + +All summer long city people, boarding in the village, six miles off, +would drive over to see the fall. This was very interesting, indeed! +Carryalls and big wagons would stop at the gate, and ladies get out, +with pretty round hats and parasols; and gentlemen, carrying canes; and +dear little children, in flounced and braided frocks. And they would all +come trooping up close by the house, on their way to see the view. +Sometimes, but not often, one would stop to get a drink of water or ask +the way. Dotty and Dimple liked very much to have them come. They would +hide, and peep out at the strangers, and make up all kinds of stories +about them; but they were too shy to come forward or let themselves be +seen. So the people from the city never guessed what bright eyes were +looking at them from behind the door or on the other side of the bushes. +But all the same, it was great fun for the children to have them come, +and they were always pleased when wheels were heard and wagons drove up +to the gate. + +It was early last summer that a droll idea popped into Dotty's head. It +all came from a man who, walking past, and stopping to see the fall, sat +down a while to rest, and said to the farmer:-- + +"I should think you'd charge people something for looking at that ere +place, stranger." + +"No," replied Dotty's father. "I don't calculate on asking folks nothing +for the use of their eyes." + +"Well," said the man, getting up to go, "you might as well. It's what +folks is doing all over the country. If 't was mine, I'd fix up a lunch +or something, and fetch 'em that way." + +But the farmer only laughed. That night, when Dotty and Dimple were in +bed, they began to whisper to each other about the man. + +"Wasn't it funny," giggled Dimple, "his telling Pa to fix a lunch?" + +"Yes," said Dotty. "But I'll tell you what, Dimple! when he said that, I +had such a nice plan come into my head. You know you and me can make +real nice corn-balls." + +"'Course we can." + +"Well, let's get Pa, or else Zach, to make us a little table,--out of +boards, you know; and let's put it on the bank, close to the place where +folks go to see the fall; and every day let's pop a lot of corn, and +make some balls, and set them on the table for the folks to eat. Don't +you think that would be nice?" + +"I'm afraid Mother wouldn't let us have so much molasses," said the +practical Dimple. + +"Oh, but don't you see I mean to have the folks _pay_ for 'em! We'll put +a paper on the table, with 'two cents apiece,' or something like that, +on it. And then they'll put the money on the table, and when they're +gone away we'll go and fetch it. Won't that be fun? Perhaps there'd be a +great, great deal,--most as much as a dollar!" + +"Oh, no," cried Dimple, "not so much as _that_! But we might get a +greenback. How much is a greenback, Dot?" + +"Oh, I don't know," replied Dotty. "A good deal, I know, but I guess it +isn't so much as a dollar." + +The little sisters could hardly sleep that night, they were so excited +over their plan. Next morning they were up with the birds; and before +breakfast Mother, Father, and Zach, the hired man, had heard all about +the wonderful scheme. + +Mother said she didn't mind letting them try; and Zach, who was very +fond of the children, promised to make the table the very first thing +after the big field was ploughed. And so he did; and a very nice table +it was, with four legs and a good stout top. Dotty and Dimple laughed +with pleasure when they saw it. + +Zach set it on the bank just at the place where the people stood to look +at the view; and he drove a stake at each corner; and found some old +sheeting, and made a sort of tent over the table, so that the sun should +not shine under and melt the corn-balls. When it was all arranged, and +the table set out, with the corn-balls on one plate and maple-sugar +cakes on another, it looked very tempting, and the children were +extremely proud of it. Dotty cut a sheet of paper, and printed upon it +the following notice: + + "Corn bals 2 sents apece. + Sugar 1 sent apece. + Plese help yure selfs and put the munney + on the table." + +This was pinned to the tent, right over the table. + +The first day four people came to visit the waterfall; and when the +children ran down to look, after they had driven away, half the +provisions were gone, and there on the table lay four shining five-cent +pieces! The next day was not so good; they only made four cents. And so +it went on all summer. Some days a good many people would come, and a +good many pennies be left on the table; and other days nobody would +come, and the wasps would eat the maple-sugar, and fly away without +paying anything at all. But little by little the tin box in Mother's +drawer got heavier and heavier, until at last, early in October, Dotty +declared that she was tired of making corn-balls, and she guessed the +city-folks were all gone home; and now wouldn't Mother please to count +the money, and see how much they had got? + +So Mother emptied the tin box into her lap, with a great jingle of +pennies and rustling of fractional currency. And how much do you think +there was? Three dollars and seventy-eight cents! The seventy-eight +cents Mother said would just about pay for the molasses; so there were +three dollars all their own,--for Dotty and Dimple to spend as they +liked! + +You should have seen them dance about the kitchen! Three dollars! Why, +it was a fortune! It would buy everything in the world! They had fifty +plans, at least, for spending it; and sat up so late talking them over, +and had such red cheeks and excited eyes, that Mother said she was +afraid they wouldn't sleep one wink all night. But, bless you! they did, +and were as bright as buttons in the morning. + +For a week there was nothing talked about but the wonderful three +dollars. And then one evening Father, who had been over to the village, +came home with a very grave face, and, drawing a newspaper from his +pocket, read them all about the great fire in Chicago. + +He read how the flames, spreading like wind, swept from one house to +another, and how people had just time to run out of their homes, leaving +everything to burn; how women, with babies in their arms, and frightened +children crouched all that dreadful night out on the cold, wet prairie, +without food or clothes or shelter; how little boys and girls ran +through the burning streets, crying for the parents whom they could not +find; how everybody had lost everything. + +"Oh," said Dimple, almost crying, as she listened to the piteous story, +"how dreadful those little girls must feel! And I suppose all their +dollies are burned up too. I wouldn't have Nancy burned in a fire for +anything!" and, picking up an old doll, of whom she was very fond, she +hugged her with unspeakable affection. + +That night there was another long, mysterious confabulation in the +children's bed; and, coming down in the morning, hand in hand, Dotty and +Dimple announced that they had made up their minds what to do with the +corn-ball money. + +"We're going to send it to the Sicago," said Dimple, "to those poor +little girls whose dollies are all burned up!" + +"How will you send it?" asked their Mother. + +"In a letter," said Dotty. "And please, Pa, write on the outside: 'From +Dotty and Dimple, to buy some dollies for the little girls whose dollies +were burned up in the fire.'" + +So their father put the money into an envelope, and wrote on the outside +just what Dotty said. And, when he had got through, he put his hands in +his pockets and walked out of the room. The children wondered what made +his face so red, and when they turned round, there was Mother with tears +in her eyes. + +"Why, what's the matter?" cried they. But their Mother only put her arms +round them and kissed them very hard. And she whispered to herself: "Of +such is the Kingdom of Heaven." + + + + +THE PRIZE GIRL OF THE HARNESSING CLASS. + + +It was the day before Thanksgiving, but the warmth of a late Indian +summer lay over the world, and tempered the autumn chill into mildness +more like early October than late November. Elsie Thayer, driving her +village cart rapidly through the "Long Woods," caught herself vaguely +wondering why the grass was not greener, and what should set the leaves +to tumbling off the trees in such an unsummer-like fashion,--then smiled +at herself for being so forgetful. + +The cart was packed full; for, besides Elsie herself, it held a bag of +sweet potatoes, a sizable bundle or two, and a large market-basket, +from which protruded the unmistakable legs of a turkey, not to mention a +choice smaller basket covered with a napkin. All these were going to the +little farmstead in which dwelt Mrs. Ann Sparrow, Elsie's nurse in +childhood, and the most faithful and kindly of friends ever since. Elsie +always made sure that "Nursey" had a good Thanksgiving dinner, and +generally carried it herself. + +The day was so delightful that it seemed almost a pity that the pony +should trot so fast. One would willingly have gone slowly, tasting drop +by drop, as it were, the lovely sunshine filtering through the yellow +beech boughs, the unexpected warmth, and the balmy spice of the air, +which had in it a tinge of smoky haze. But the day before Thanksgiving +is sure to be a busy one with New England folk; Elsie had other tasks +awaiting her, and she knew that Nursey would not be content with a short +visit. + +"Hurry up, little Jack!" she said. "You shall have a long rest +presently, if you are a good boy, and some nice fresh grass,--if I can +find any; anyway, a little drink of water. So make haste." + +Jack made haste. The yellow wheels of the cart spun in and out of the +shadow like circles of gleaming sun. When the two miles were achieved, +and the little clearing came into view, Elsie slackened her pace: she +wanted to take Nursey by surprise. Driving straight to a small open +shed, she deftly unharnessed the pony, tied him with a liberal allowance +of halter, hung up the harness, and wheeled the cart away from his +heels, all with the ease which is born of practice. She then gathered a +lapful of brown but still nourishing grasses for Jack, and was about to +lift the parcels from the wagon when she was espied by Mrs. Sparrow. + +Out she came, hurrying and flushed with pleasure,--the dearest old +woman, with pink, wrinkled cheeks like a perfectly baked apple, and a +voice which still retained its pleasant English tones, after sixty long +years in America. + +"Well, Missy, dear, so it's you. I made sure you'd come, and had been +watching all the morning; but somehow I missed you when you drove up, +and it was just by haccident like, that I looked out of window and see +you in the shed. You're looking well, Missy. That school hasn't hurt you +a bit. Just the same nice color in your cheeks as ever. I was that +troubled when I heard you wa'n't coming home last summer, for I thought +maybe you was ill; but your mother she said 'twas all right, and just +for your pleasure, and I see it was so. Why,"--her voice changing to +consternation,--"if you haven't unharnessed the horse! Now, Missy, how +came you to do that? You forgot there wasn't no one about but me. Who's +to put him in for you, I wonder?" + +"Oh, I don't want any one. I can harness the pony myself." + +"Oh, Missy, dear, you mustn't do that! I couldn't let you. It's real +hard to harness a horse. You'd make some mistake, and then there'd be a +haccident." + +"Nonsense, Nursey! I've harnessed Jack once this morning already; it's +just as easy to do it twice. I'm a member of a Harnessing Class, I'd +have you to know; and, what's more, I took the prize!" + +"Now, Missy, dear, whatever do you mean by that? Young ladies learn to +harness! I never heard of such a thing in my life! In my young time, in +England, they learned globes and langwidges, and, it might be, to paint +in oils and such, and make nice things in chenille." + +"I'll tell you all about it, but first let us carry these things up to +the house. Here's your Thanksgiving turkey, Nursey,--with Mother's love. +Papa sent you the sweet potatoes and the cranberries; and the oranges +and figs and the pumpkin pie are from me. I made the pie myself. That's +another of the useful things that I learned to do at my school." + +"The master is very kind, Missy; and so is your mother; and I'm thankful +to you all. But that's a queer school of yours, it seems to me. For my +part, I never heard of young ladies learning such things as cooking and +harnessing at boarding-schools." + +"Oh, we learn arts and languages, too,--that part of our education isn't +neglected. Now, Nursey, we'll put these things in your buttery, and you +shall give me a glass of nice cold milk; and while I drink it I'll tell +you about Rosemary Hall,--that's the name of the school, you know; and +it's the dearest, nicest place you can think of." + +"Very likely, Miss Elsie," in an unconvinced tone; "but still I don't +see any reason why they should set you to making pies and harnessing +horses." + +"Oh, that's just at odd times, by way of fun and pleasure; it isn't +lessons, you know. You see, Mrs. Thanet--that's a rich lady who lives +close by, and is a sort of fairy godmother to us girls--has a great +notion about practical education. It was she who got up the Harnessing +Class and the Model Kitchen. It's the dearest little place you ever saw, +Nursey, with a _perfect_ stove, and shelves, and hooks for everything; +and such bright tins, and the prettiest of old-fashioned crockery! It's +just like a picture. We girls were always squabbling over whose turn +should come first. You can't think how much I learned there, Nursey! I +learned to make a pie, and clear out a grate, and scour saucepans, and," +counting on her fingers, "to make bread, rolls, minute-biscuit, +coffee,--delicious coffee, Nursey!--good soup, creamed oysters, and +pumpkin-pies and apple-pies! Just wait, and you shall see!" + +She jumped up, ran into the buttery, and soon returned, carrying a +triangle of pie on a plate. + +"It isn't Thanksgiving yet, I know; but there is no law against eating +pumpkin-pie the day before, so please, Nursey, taste this and see if you +don't call it good. Papa says it makes him think of his mother's pies, +when he was a little boy." + +"Indeed, and it is good, Missy, dear; and I won't deny but cooking may +be well for you to know; but for that other--the harnessing class, as +you call it,--I don't see the sense of that at all, Missy." + +"Oh, Nursey, indeed there is a great deal of sense in it. Mrs. Thanet +says it might easily happen, in the country especially,--if any one was +hurt or taken very ill, you know,--that life might depend upon a girl's +knowing how to harness. She had a man teach us, and we practised and +practised, and at the end of the term there was an exhibition, with a +prize for the girl who could harness and unharness quickest, and I won +it! See, here it is!" + +She held out a slim brown hand, and displayed a narrow gold bangle, on +which was engraved in minute letters, "What is worth doing at all, is +worth doing well." + +"Isn't it pretty?" she asked. + +"Yes," doubtfully. "The bracelet is pretty enough, Missy; but I can't +quite like what it stands for. It don't seem ladylike for you to be +knowing about harnesses and such things." + +"Oh, Nursey, dear, what nonsense!" + +There were things to be done after she got home, but Elsie could not +hurry her visit. Jack consumed his grass heap, and then stood sleepily +blinking at the flies for a long hour before his young mistress jumped +up. + +"Now, I must go!" she cried. "Come out and see me harness up, Nursey." + +It was swiftly and skilfully done, but still Nurse Sparrow shook her +head. + +"I don't like it!" she insisted. "'A horse shall be a vain thing for +safety'--that's in Holy Writ." + +"You are an obstinate old dear," said Elsie, good-humoredly. "Wait till +you're ill some day, and I go for the doctor. _Then_ you'll realize the +advantage of practical education. What a queer smell of smoke there is, +Nursey!" gathering up her reins. + +"Yes; the woods has been on fire for quite a spell, back on the other +side of Bald Top. You can smell the smoke most of the time. Seems to me +it's stronger than usual, to-day." + +"You don't think there is any danger of its coming this way, do you?" + +"Oh, no!" contentedly. "I don't suppose it could come so far as this." + +"But why not?" thought Elsie to herself, as she drove rapidly back. "If +the wind were right for it, why shouldn't it come this way? Fires travel +much farther than that on the prairies,--and they go very fast, too. I +never did like having Nursey all alone by herself on that farm." + +She reached home, to find things in unexpected confusion. Her father had +been called away for the night by a telegram, and her mother--on this, +of all days--had gone to bed, disabled with a bad headache. There was +much to be done, and Elsie flung herself into the breach, and did it, +too busy to think again of Nurse Sparrow and the fire, until, toward +nightfall, she noted that the wind had changed, and was blowing straight +from Bald Top, bringing with it an increase of smoke. + +She ran out to consult the hired man before he went home for the night, +and to ask if he thought there was any danger of the fire reaching the +Long Woods. He "guessed" not. + +"These fires get going quite often on to the other side of Bald Top, but +there ain't none of 'em come over this way, and 'tain't likely they ever +will. I guess Mis' Sparrow's safe enough. You needn't worry, Miss +Elsie." + +In spite of this comforting assurance, Elsie did worry. She looked out +of her west window the last thing before going to bed; and when, at two +in the morning, she woke with a sudden start, her first impulse was to +run to the window again. Then she gave an exclamation, and her heart +stood still with fear; for the southern slopes of Bald Top were ringed +with flames which gleamed dim and lurid through the smoke, and showers +of sparks, thrown high in air, showed that the edges of the woods beyond +Nursey's farm were already burning. + +"She'll be frightened to death," thought Elsie. "Oh, poor dear, and no +one to help her!" + +What should she do? To go after the man and waken him meant a long +delay. He was a heavy sleeper, and his house was a quarter of a mile +distant. But there was Jack in the stable, and the stable key was in +the hall below. As she dressed, she decided. + +"How glad I am that I can do this!" she thought, as she flung the +harness over the pony's back, strapped, buckled, adjusted,--doing all +with a speed which yet left nothing undone and slighted nothing. Not +even on the day when she took the prize had she put her horse in so +quickly. She ran back at the last moment for two warm rugs. Deftly +guiding Jack over the grass, that his hoofs should make no noise, she +gained the road, and, quickening him to his fastest pace, drove +fearlessly into the dark woods. + +They were not so dark as she had feared they would be, for the light of +a late, low-hung moon penetrated the trees, with perhaps some +reflections from the far-away fire, so that she easily made out the +turns and windings of the track. The light grew stronger as she +advanced. The main fire was still far distant, but before she reached +Nurse's little clearing, she even drove by one place where the woods +were ablaze. + +She had expected to find Mrs. Sparrow in an agitation of terror; but, +behold! she was in her bed, sound asleep. Happily, it was easy to get at +her. Nursey's theory was that, "if anybody thought it would pay him to +sit up at night and rob an old woman, he'd do it anyway, and needn't +have the trouble of getting in at the window;" and on the strength of +this philosophical utterance, she went to bed with the door on the +latch. + +She took Elsie for a dream, at first. + +"I'm just a-dreaming. I ain't a-going to wake up; you needn't think it," +she muttered sleepily. + +But when Elsie at last shook her into consciousness, and pointed at the +fiery glow on the horizon, her terror matched her previous unconcern. + +"Oh, dear, dear!" she wailed, as with trembling, suddenly stiff fingers +she put on her clothes. "I'm a-going to be burned out! It's hard, at my +time of life, just when I had got things tidy and comfortable. I was +a-thinking of sending over for my niece to the Isle of Dogs, and getting +her to come and stay with me, I was indeed, Missy. But there won't be +any use in that _now_." + +"Perhaps the fire won't come so far as this, after all," said the +practical Elsie. + +"Oh, yes, it will! It's 'most here now." + +"Well, whether it does or not, I'm going to carry you home with me, +where you will be safe. Now, Nursey, tell me which of your things you +care most for, that we can take with us,--small things, I mean. Of +course we can't carry tables and beds in my little cart." + +The selection proved difficult. Nurse's affections clung to a tall +eight-day clock, and were hard to be detached. She also felt strongly +that it was a clear flying in the face of Providence not to save +"Sparrow's chair," a solid structure of cherry, with rockers weighing +many pounds, and quite as wide as the wagon. Elsie coaxed and +remonstrated, and at last got Nursey into the seat, with the cat and a +bundle of her best clothes in her lap, her tea-spoons in her pocket, a +basket of specially beloved baking-tins under the seat, and a favorite +feather-bed at the back, among whose billowy folds were tucked away an +assortment of treasures, ending with the Thanksgiving goodies which had +been brought over that morning. + +"I can't leave that turkey behind, Missy, dear--I really can't!" pleaded +Nursey. "I've been thinking of him, and anticipating how good he was +going to be, all day; and I haven't had but one taste of your pie. +They're so little, they'll go in anywhere." + +The fire seemed startlingly near now, and the western sky was all +aflame, while over against it, in the east, burned the first yellow +beams of dawn. People were astir by this time, and men on foot and +horseback were hurrying toward the burning woods. They stared curiously +at the oddly laden cart. + +"Why, you didn't ever come over for me all alone!" cried Nurse Sparrow, +rousing suddenly to a sense of the situation. "I've be'n that flustered +that I never took thought of how you got across, or anything about it. +Where was your Pa, Missy,--and Hiram?" + +Elsie explained. + +"Oh, you blessed child; and if you hadn't come, I'd have been burned in +my bed, as like as not!" cried the old woman, quite overpowered. "Well, +well! little did I think, when you was a baby, and I a-tending you, that +the day was to come when you were to run yourself into danger for the +sake of saving my poor old life!" + +"I don't see that there has been any particular danger for me to run, so +far; and as for saving your life, Nursey, it would very likely have +saved itself if I hadn't come near you. See, the wind has changed; it +is blowing from the north now. Perhaps the fire won't reach your house, +after all. But, anyway, I am glad you are here and not there. We cannot +be too careful of such a dear old Nursey as you are. And one thing, I +think, you'll confess,"--Elsie's tone was a little mischievous,--"and +that is, that harnessing classes have their uses. If I hadn't known how +to put Jack in the cart, I might at this moment be hammering on the door +of that stupid Hiram (who, you know, sleeps like a log) trying to wake +him, and you on the clearing alone, scared to death. Now, Nursey, own +up: Mrs. Thanet wasn't so far wrong, now was she?" + +"Indeed, no, Missy. It'd be very ungrateful for me to be saying that. +The lady judged wiser than I did." + +"Very well, then," cried Elsie, joyously. "If only your house isn't +burned up, I shall be glad the fire happened; for it's such a triumph +for Mrs. Thanet, and she'll be so pleased!" + +Nursey's house did not burn down. The change of wind came just in time +to save it; and, after eating her own Thanksgiving turkey in her old +home, and being petted and made much of for a few days, she went back, +none the worse for her adventure, to find her goods and chattels in +their usual places, and all safe. + +And Mrs. Thanet _was_ pleased. She sent Elsie a pretty locket, with the +date of the fire engraved upon it, and wrote that she gloried in her as +the Vindicator of a Principle, which fine words made Elsie laugh; but +she enjoyed being praised all the same. + + + + +DOLLY PHONE. + + +A dusty workshop, dark except where one broad ray of light streamed +through a broken shutter, a row of mysterious objects, with a tiny tin +funnel fitted into the front of each, and a cloth over their tops, odd +designs in wood and brass hanging on the wall, a carpenter's bench, a +small furnace, a general strew of shavings, iron scrape, and odds and +ends, and a little girl sitting on the floor, crying. It does not sound +much like the beginning of a story, does it? And no one would have been +more surprised than Amy Carpenter herself if any one had come as she sat +there crying, and told her that a story was begun, and she was in it. + +Yet that is the way in which stories in real life often do begin. Dust, +dulness, every-day things about one, tears, temper; and out of these +unpromising materials Fate weaves a "happening" for us. She does not +wait till skies are blue and suns shine, till the room is dusted, and we +are all ready, but chooses such time as pleases her, and surprises us. + +Amy was in as evil a temper as little girls of ten are often visited +with. Things had gone very wrong with her that day. It began with a +great disappointment. All Miss Gray's class at school was going on a +picnic. Amy had expected to go too, and at the last moment her mother +had kept her at home. + +"I'm real sorry about it," Mrs. Carpenter had said, "but you see how it +is. Baby's right fretty with his teeth, and your father's that worried +about his machine that I'm afraid he'll be down sick. If we can't keep +Baby quiet, father can't eat, and if he don't eat he won't sleep, and if +he can't sleep he can't work, and then I don't see what will become of +us. I've all that sewing to finish for Mrs. Judge Peters, and she's +going away Monday; and if she don't have it in time, she'll be put out, +and, as like as not, give her work to some one else. Now, don't cry, +Amy. I'm right sorry to disappoint you, but all of us must take our turn +in giving up things. I'm sure I take mine," with a little patient sigh. + +"Father's sure that this new machine of his is going to make our +fortune," she went on, after an interval of busy stitching. "But I don't +know. He said just the same about the alarm-clock, and the Imferno +Reaper and Binder, and that thing-a-my-jig for opening cans, and the +self-registering Savings Bank, and the Minute Egg-Beater, and the Tuck +Measurer, and none of them came to anything in the end. Perhaps it'll be +the same with this." Another sigh, a little deeper than the last. + +Some little girls might have been touched with the tired, discouraged +voice and look, but Amy was a stormy child, with a hot temper and a very +strong will. So instead of being sorry and helpful, she went on crying +and complaining, till her mother spoke sharply, and then subsided into +sulky silence. Baby woke, and she had to take him up, but she did it +unwillingly, and her unhappy mood seemed to communicate itself to him, +as moods will. He wriggled and twisted in her arms, and presently began +to whimper. Amy hushed and patted. She set him on his feet, she turned +him over on his face, nothing pleased him. The whimper increased to a +roar. + +"Dear! dear!" cried poor Mrs. Carpenter, stopping her machine in the +middle of a long seam. "What is the matter? I never did see anybody so +unhandy with a baby as you are. Here I am in such a hurry, and you +don't try to amuse him worth a cent. I'm really ashamed of you, Amy +Carpenter." + +Amy's back and arms ached; she felt that this speech was cruelly unjust. +What she did not see was that it was her own temper which was repeated +in her little brother. Like all babies, he knew instinctively the +difference between loving tendance and that which is bestowed from a +cold sense of duty, and he resented the latter with all his might. + +"Do walk up and down and sing to him," said Mrs. Carpenter, who hated to +have her child unhappy, but still more to leave her sewing,--"sing +something cheerful. Perhaps he'll go to sleep if you do." + +So Amy, feeling very cross and injured, had to walk the heavy baby up +and down, and sing "Rock me to sleep, Mother," which was the only +"cheerful" song she could think of. It quieted the baby for a while, +then, just as his eyelids were drooping, a fresh attack of fretting +seized upon him, and he began to cry; Amy was so vexed that she gave him +a furtive slap. It was a very little slap, but her mother saw it. + +"You naughty, bad girl!" she cried, jumping up; "so that's the way you +treat your little brother, is it? Slapping him on the sly! No wonder he +doesn't like you, and won't go to sleep!" She snatched the child away, +and gave Amy a smart box on the ear. Mrs. Carpenter, though a good +woman, had a quick temper of her own. + +"You can go up-stairs now," she said in a stern, exasperated tone. "I +don't want you any more this afternoon. If you were a good girl, you +might have been a real comfort to me this hard day, but as it is, I'd +rather have your room than your company." + +Frightened and angry both, Amy rushed up-stairs, and into her father's +workshop, the door of which stood open. He had just gone out, and the +confusion and dreariness of the place seemed inviting to her at the +moment. Flinging the door to with a great bang, she threw herself on the +floor, and gave vent to her pent-up emotions. + +"It's unjust!" she sobbed, speaking louder than usual, as people do who +are in a passion. "Mamma is as mean as she can be! Scolding me because +that old baby wouldn't go to sleep! I hate everybody! I wish I was dead! +I wish everybody else was dead!" + +These were dreadful words for a little girl to use. Even in her anger, +Amy would have been startled and ashamed at the idea of any one's ever +hearing them. + +But Amy had a listener, though she little suspected it, and, what was +worse, a listener who was recording every word that she uttered! + +The "new machine" of which Mrs. Carpenter had spoken was really a very +clever and ingenious one. It was the adaptation of the phonographic +principle to the person of a doll. Mr. Carpenter had succeeded in +interesting somebody with capital in his project, and the dolls were at +that moment being manufactured for the apparatus, the construction of +which he kept in his own hands. This apparatus was held in small +cylinders, just large enough to fit into the body of a doll and contain, +each, a few sentences, which the doll would seem to speak when set in an +upright position. + +These cylinders were just ready, and standing in a row waiting to +receive their "charges," which were to be put into them through the tin +funnels fitted for the purpose. Amy, as she sat on the floor, was +exactly opposite one of these funnels, and all her angry words passed +into, and became a part of, the mechanism of the doll. After this, no +matter how many pretty words might be uttered softly into that cylinder, +none of them could make any impression; the doll was full. It could hold +no more. + +But no one knew that the doll was full. Amy, her fit of passion over, +fell asleep on the floor, and when her father's step sounded below, +waked in a calmer mood. She was sorry that she had been so naughty, and +tried to make up for it by being more helpful and patient in the evening +and next day. Her mother easily forgave her, and she did not find it +hard to forgive herself, and soon forgot the event of that unhappy +afternoon. Mr. Carpenter sat down in front of his cylinders that night, +and filled them all, as he supposed, with nice little sentences to +please and surprise small doll owners, such as "Good morning, Mamma. +Shall I put on my pink or my olive frock this morning?" or "Good-night, +Mamma. I'm so sleepy!" or bits of nursery rhymes,--Bo Peep or Jack and +Jill or Little Boy Blue. Then, when the phonographs were filled, the +machinery went away to be put in the dolls, and Mr. Carpenter began on a +fresh set. + +Mrs. Carpenter, meanwhile, had finished her big job of sewing, so she +felt less hurried, and had more time for the baby. The weather was +beautiful, things went well at school, and altogether life seemed +pleasant to Amy, and she found it easy to be kind and good-natured. + +This agreeable state of things lasted through the autumn. The +Dolliphone, as Mr. Carpenter had christened his invention, proved a hit. +Orders poured in from all over the United States, and from England and +France, and the manufactory was taxed to its utmost extent. At last one +of Mr. Carpenter's inventions had turned out a success, and his spirits +rose high. + +"We've fetched it this time, Mother," he told his wife. "The stock's +going up like all possessed, and the dolls are going out as fast as we +can get them ready. Why, we've had orders from as far off as Australia! +China'll come next, I suppose, or the Cannibal Islands. There's no end +to the money that's in it." + +"I'm glad, Robert, I'm sure," returned Mrs. Carpenter; "but don't count +too much upon it all. I've thought a heap of that self-acting churn, you +remember." + +"Pshaw! the churn never did amount to shucks anyhow," said her husband, +who had the true inventor's faculty for forgetting the mischances of the +past in the contemplation of the hopes of the future. "It was just a +little dud to make folks open their eyes, any way. This Dolliphone is +different. It's bound to sell like wild-fire, once it gets to going. +We'll be rich folks before we know it, Mother." + +"That'll be nice," said Mrs. Carpenter, with a dry, unbelieving cough. +She did not mean to be as discouraging as she sounded, but a woman can +scarcely be the wife of an unsuccessful genius for fifteen years, and +see the family earnings vanish down the throat of one invention after +another, without becoming outwardly, as well as inwardly, discouraged. + +"Now, don't be a wet blanket, Mother," said Mr. Carpenter, +good-humoredly. "We've had some upsets in our calculation, I confess, +but this time it's all coming out right, as you'll see. And I wanted to +ask you about something, and that is what you'd think of Amy's having +one of the dolls for her Christmas? Don't you think it'd please her?" + +"Why, of course; but do you think you can afford it, Robert? The dolls +are five dollars, aren't they?" + +"Yes, to customers they are, but I shouldn't have to pay anything like +that, of course. I can have one for cost price, say a dollar +seventy-five; so if you think the child would like it, we'll fix it so." + +"Well, I should be glad to have Amy get one," said Mrs. Carpenter, +brightening up. "And it seems only right that she should, when you +invented it and all. She's been pretty good these last weeks, and she'll +be mightily tickled." + +So it was settled, but the pile of orders to be filled was so incessant +that it was not till Christmas Eve that Mr. Carpenter could get hold of +a doll for his own use, and no time was left in which to dress it. That +was no matter, Mrs. Carpenter declared; Amy would like to make the +clothes herself, and it would be good practice in sewing. She hunted up +some pieces of cambric and flannel and scraps of ribbon for the purpose, +and when Amy woke on Christmas morning, there by her side lay the big, +beautiful creature, with flaxen hair, long-lashed blue eyes, and a +dimple in her pink chin. Beside her was a parcel containing the +materials for her clothes and a new spool of thread, and on the doll's +arm was pinned a paper with this inscription:-- + + "_For Amy, with a Merry Christmas from Father and Mother._ + + "_Her name is Dolly Phone._" + +Amy's only doll up to this time had been a rag one, manufactured by her +mother, and you can imagine her delight. She hugged Dolly Phone to her +heart, kissed her twenty times over, and examined all her beauties in +detail,--her lovely bang, her hands, and her little feet, which had +brown kid shoes sewed on them, and the smile on her lips, which showed +two tiny white teeth. She stood her up on the quilt to see how tall she +was, and as she did so, wonder of wonders, out of these smiling red lips +came a voice, sharp and high-pitched, as if a canary-bird or a +Jew's-harp were suddenly endowed with speech, and began to talk to her! + +What did the voice say? Not "Good-morning, Mamma," or "I'm so sleepy!" +or "Mistress Mary quite contrary," or "Twinkle, twinkle, little +star,"--none of these things. Her sister dolls might have said these +things; what Dolly Phone said, speaking fast and excitedly, was,-- + +"It's unjust! Mamma is as mean as she can be! Scolding me because that +old baby wouldn't go to sleep! I hate everybody! I wish I was dead! I +wish everybody else was dead!" And then, in a different tone, a good +deal deeper, "Good-morning, ma-m--" and there the voice stopped +suddenly. + +Amy had listened to this remarkable address with astonishment. That her +beautiful new baby could speak, was delightful, but what horrible things +she said! + +"How queerly you talk, darling!" she cried, snatching the doll into her +arms again. "What is the matter? Why do you speak so to me? Are you +alive, or only making believe? I'm not mean; what makes you say I am? +And, oh! why do you wish you were dead?" + +Dolly stared full in her face with an unwinking smile. She looked +perfectly good-natured. Amy began to think that she was dreaming, or +that the whole thing was some queer trick. + +"There, there, dear!" she cried, patting the doll's back, "we won't say +any more about it. You love me now, I know you do!" + +Then, very gently and cautiously, she set Dolly on her feet again. +"Perhaps she'll say something nice this time," she thought hopefully. + +Alas! the rosy lips only uttered the self-same words. "Mean--unjust--I +hate everybody--I wish everybody was dead," in sharp, unpitying +sequence. Worst of all, the phrases began to have a familiar sound to +Amy's ear. She felt her cheeks burn with a sudden red. + +"Why," she thought, "that was what I said in the workshop the day I was +so cross. How could the doll know? Oh, dear! she's so lovely and so +beautiful, but if she keeps on talking like this, what shall I do?" + +Deep in her heart struggled an uneasy fear. Mother would hear the doll! +Mother might suspect what it meant! At all hazards, Dolly must be kept +from talking while mother was by. + +She was so quiet and subdued when she went downstairs to breakfast, with +the doll in her arms, that her father and mother could not understand +it. They had looked forward to seeing her boisterously joyful. She +kissed them, and thanked them, and tried to seem like her usual self, +but mothers' eyes are sharp, and Mrs. Carpenter detected the look of +trouble. + +"What's the matter, dear?" she whispered. "Don't you feel well?" + +"Oh, yes! very well. Nothing's the matter." Amy whispered back, keeping +the terrible Dolly sedulously prone, as she spoke. + +"Come, Amy, let's see your new baby," said Mr. Carpenter. "She's a +beauty, ain't she? Half of her was made in this house, did you know +that? Set her up, and let's hear her talk." + +"She's asleep now," faltered Amy. "But she's been talking up-stairs. She +talks very nicely, Papa. She's tired now, truly she is." + +"Nonsense! she isn't the kind that gets tired. Her tongue won't ache if +she runs on all day; she's like some little girls in that. Stand her up, +Amy, I want to hear her. I've never seen one of 'em out of the shop +before. She looks wonderfully alive, doesn't she, Mother?" + +But Amy still hesitated. Her manner was so strange that her father grew +impatient at last, and, reaching out, took the doll from her, and set it +sharply on the table. The little button on the sole of the foot set the +curious instrument within in motion. As prepared phrases were rolled off +in shrill succession, Mr. Carpenter leaned forward to listen. When the +sounds ended, he raised his head with a look of bewilderment. + +"Why--why--what is the creature at?" he exclaimed. "That isn't what I +put into her. 'I Wish I was dead! Wish everybody else was dead!' I can't +understand it at all. I charged all the dolls myself, and there wasn't a +word like that in the whole batch. If the others have gone wrong like +this, it's all up with our profits." + +He looked so troubled and down-hearted that Amy could bear it no longer. + +"It's all my fault!" she cried, bursting into tears. "Somehow it's all +my fault, though I can't tell how, for it was I who said those things. I +said those very things, Papa, in your workshop one day when I was in a +temper. Don't you recollect the day, Mother,--the day when I didn't go +to the picnic, and Baby wouldn't go to sleep, and I slapped him, and you +boxed my ears? I went up-stairs, and I was crying, and I said,--yes, I +think I said every word of those things, though I forgot all about them +till Dolly said them to me this morning, and how she could possibly +know, I can't imagine." + +"But I can imagine," said her father. "Where did you sit that day, Amy?" + +"On the floor, by the door." + +"Was there a row of things close by, with tin funnels stuck in them and +a cloth over the top?" + +"I think there was. I recollect the funnels." + +"Then that's all right!" exclaimed Mr. Carpenter, his face clearing up. +"Those were the phonographs, Mother, and, don't you see, she must have +been exactly opposite one of the funnels, and her voice went in and +filled it. It's the best kind of good luck that that cylinder happened +to be put into her doll. If all that bad language had gone to anybody +else, there would have been the mischief to pay. Folks would have been +writing to the papers, as like as not, or the ministers preaching +against the dolls as a bad influence. It would have ruined the whole +concern, and all your fault, Amy." + +"Oh, Papa, how dreadful! how perfectly dreadful!" was all Amy could say, +but she sobbed so wildly that her father's anger melted. + +"There, don't cry," he said more kindly; "we won't be too hard on you on +Christmas Day. Wipe your eyes, and we'll try to think no more about it, +especially as the spoiled doll has fallen to your own share, and no real +harm is done." + +In his relief Mr. Carpenter was disposed to pass lightly over the +matter. Not so his wife. She took a more serious view of it. + +"You see, Amy," she said that night when they chanced to be alone, "you +see how a hasty word sticks and lasts. You never supposed that day that +the things you said would ever come back to you again, but here they +are." + +"Yes--because of the doll,--of her inside, I mean. It heard." + +"But if the doll hadn't heard, some one would have heard all the same." + +"Do you mean God?" asked Amy, in an awe-struck voice. + +"Yes. He hears every word that we say, the minister tells us, and writes +them all down in a book. If it frightened you to have the doll repeat +the words you had forgotten, think how much more it will frighten you, +and all of us, when that book is opened and all the wrong things we have +ever said are read out for the whole world to hear." + +Mrs. Carpenter did not often speak so solemnly, and it made a great +impression on Amy's mind. She still plays with Dolly Phone, and loves +her, in a way, but it is a love which is mingled with fear. The doll is +like a reproach of conscience to her. That is not pleasant, so she is +kept flat on her back most of the time. Only, now and then, when Amy has +been cross and said a sharp word, and is sorry for it, she solemnly +takes Dolly, sets her on her feet, and, as a penance, makes herself +listen to all the hateful string of phrases which form her stock of +conversation. + +"It's horrid, but it's good for me," she tells the baby, who listens +with a look of fascinated wonder. "I shall have to keep her, and let her +talk that way, till I'm such a good girl that there isn't any danger of +my ever being naughty again. And that must be for a long, long time +yet," she concludes with a sigh. + + + + +A NURSERY TYRANT. + + +It was such a pleasant old nursery that it seemed impossible that +anything disagreeable should enter into it. The three southern windows +stood open in all pleasant weather, letting in cheerful sun and air. For +cold days there was a generous grate, full of blazing coals, and guarded +by a high fender of green-painted wire. There were little cupboards set +in the deep sides of the chimney. The two on the left were Barbara's and +Eunice's; the two to the right, Reggy's and Roger's. Here they kept +their own particular treasures under lock and key; while little May, the +left-over one, was accommodated with two shelves inside the closet +where they all hung their hats and coats. + +No one slept in this nursery, but all the Erskine children spent a good +part of the daytime in it. Here they studied their lessons, and played +when it was too stormy to go out; there the little ones were dressed and +undressed, and all five took their suppers there every night. They liked +it better than any other room in the house, partly, I suppose, because +they lived so much in it. + +Barbara was the eldest of the brood. It would have shocked her very +much, had she guessed that any one was ever going to speak of her as a +"tyrant." Her idea of a tyrant was a lofty personage with a crown on his +head, like Xerxes, or King John, or the Emperor Nero. She had not gotten +far enough in life or history to know that the same thing can be done in +a small house that is done on a throne; and that tyranny is tyranny even +when it is not bridging the Dardanelles, or flinging Christians to the +wild beasts, or refusing to sign Magna Charta. In short, that the +principle of a thing is its real life, and makes it the same, whether +its extent or opportunities be more or less. + +This particular tyrant was a bright, active, self-willed little girl of +eleven, with a pair of brown eyes, a mop of curly brown hair, pink +cheeks, and a mouth which was so rosy and smiled so often that people +forgot to notice the resolute little chin beneath it. She was very +good-humored when everybody minded her, warm-hearted, generous, full of +plans and fancies, and anxious to make everybody happy in her own way. +She also cared a good deal about being liked and admired, as self-willed +people often do; and whenever she fancied that the children loved Eunice +better than herself (which was the case), she was grieved, and felt that +it was unfair. "For I do a great deal more to please them than Eunie +does," she would say to herself, forgetting that not what we do, but +what we are, it is which makes us beloved or otherwise. + +But though the younger ones loved Eunice best, they were much more apt +to do as Barbara wished, partly because it was easier than to oppose +her, and partly because she and her many ideas and projects interested +them. They never knew what was coming next; and they seldom dared to +make up their minds about anything, or form any wishes of their own, +till they knew what their despot had decided upon. Eunice was gentle and +yielding, Mary almost a baby; but the boys, as they grew older, +occasionally showed signs of rebellion, and though Barbara put these +down with an iron hand, they were likely to come again with fresh +provocation. + +The fifteenth of May was always a festival in the Erskine household. +"Mamma's May Day," the children called it, because not only was it their +mother's birthday, but it also took the place of the regular May Day, +which was apt to be too cold or windy for celebration. The children +were allowed to choose their own treat, and they always chose a picnic +and a May crowning. Barbara was invariably queen, as a matter of course, +and she made a very good one, and expended much time and ingenuity in +inventing something new each year to make the holiday different from +what it had ever been before. She always kept her plans secret till the +last moment, to enhance the pleasure of the surprise. + +It never occurred to any one, least of all to Barbara herself, that +there could be rotation in office, or that any one else should be chosen +as queen. Still, changes of dynasty will come to families as well as to +kingdoms; and Queen Barbara found this out. + +"Eunie, I want you to do something," she said, one afternoon in late +April, producing two long pieces of stiff white tarlatan; "please sew +this up _there_ and there, and hem it _there_,--not nice sewing, you +know, but big stitches." + +"What is it for?" asked Eunie, obediently receiving the tarlatan, and +putting on her thimble. + +"Ah, that is a secret," replied Barbara. "You'll know by and by." + +"Can't you tell me now?" + +"No, not till Mother's May Day. I'll tell you then." + +"Oh, Barbie," cried Eunice, dropping the tarlatan, "I wanted to speak to +you before you began anything. The children want little Mary to be the +queen this year." + +"Mary! Why? I've always been queen. What do they want to change for? +Mary wouldn't know how to do it, and I've such a nice plan for this +year!" + +"Your plans always are nice," said the peace-loving Eunice; "but, +Barbie, really and truly, we do all want to have Mary this time. She's +so cunning and pretty, and you've always been queen, you know. It was +the boys thought of it first, and they want her ever so much. Do let +her, just for once." + +"Why, Eunice, I wouldn't have believed you could be so unkind!" said +Barbara, in an aggrieved tone. "It's not a bit fair to turn me out, when +I've always worked so hard at the May Day, and done _everything_, while +the rest of you just sat by and enjoyed yourselves, and had all the fun +and none of the trouble." + +"But the boys think the trouble is half the fun," persisted Eunice. +"They would rather take it than not. Don't you think it would be nice to +be a maid of honor, just for once?"--persuasively. + +"No, indeed, I don't!" retorted Barbara, passionately. "Be maid of +honor, and have that baby of a Mary, queen! You must be crazy, Eunice +Erskine. I'll be queen or nothing, you can tell the boys; and if I +backed out, and didn't help, I guess you'd all be sorry enough." So +saying, Barbara marched off, with her chin in the air. She was not +really much afraid that her usually obedient subjects would resist her +authority; but she had found that this injured way of speaking impressed +the children, and helped her to carry her points. + +So she was surprised enough, when that evening, at supper, she noticed a +constraint of manner among the rest of the party. The children looked +sober. Reggy whispered to Eunice, Roger kicked Reggy, and at last burst +out with, "Now, see here, Barbie Erskine, we want to tell you something. +We're going to have Baby for queen this time, and not you, and that's +all there is about it." + +"Roger," said the indignant Barbara, "how dare you speak so? You're not +going to have anything of the kind unless I say you may." + +"Yes, we are. Mamma says we ought to take turns, and we never have. +Nobody has ever had a turn except you, and you keep having yours all +the time. We don't want the same queen always, and this year we've +chosen Mary." + +"Roger Erskine!" cried Barbara, hotly. "You're the rudest boy that ever +was!" Then she turned to the others. "Now listen to me," she said. "I've +made all my plans for this year, and they're perfectly lovely. I won't +tell you what they are, exactly, because it would spoil the surprise, +but there's going to be an angel! An angel--with wings! What do you +think of that? You'd be sorry if I gave it up, wouldn't you? Well, if +one more word is said about Mary's being queen, I will give it up, and I +won't help you a bit. Now you can choose." + +Her tone was awfully solemn, but the children did not give way. Even the +hint about the angel produced no effect. Eunice began, "I'm sure, +Barbie--" but Reggy stopped her with, "Shut up, Eunice! Everybody in +favor of Mary for queen, can hold up their hands," he called out. + +Six hands went up. Eunice raised hers in a deprecating way, but she +raised it. "It's a vote," cried Roger. Barbara glared at them all with +helpless wrath; then she said, in a choked voice, "Oh, well! have your +old picnic, then. I sha'n't come to it," and ran out of the room, +leaving her refractory subjects almost frightened at their own success. + +Two unhappy weeks followed. True to her threat, Barbara refused to take +any share in the holiday preparations. She sat about in corners, sulky +and unhappy, while the others worked, or tried to work. Sooth to say, +they missed her help very much, and did badly enough without her, but +they would not let her know this. The boys whistled as they drove nails, +and _sounded_ very contented and happy. + +Presently Fate sent them a new ally. Aunt Kate, the young aunt whom the +children liked best of all their relations, came on a visit, and, +finding so much going on, bestirred herself to help. She was not long in +missing Barbara, and she easily guessed out the position of affairs, +though the children made no explanations. + +One afternoon, leaving the others hard at work, she went in search of +Barbara, who had hidden herself away with a book, in the shrubbery. + +"Why are you all alone?" she asked, sitting down beside her. + +"I don't know where the others are," said Barbara, moodily. + +"They are tying wreaths to dress the tent to-morrow. Don't you want to +go and help them?" + +"No, they don't want me! Oh, Aunt Kate!" with a sudden burst of +confidence, "they have treated me so! You can't think how they have +treated me!" + +"Why, what have they done?" + +"I've always been queen on mother's May Day,--always. And this year I +meant to be again. And I had such a nice plan for the coronation, and +then they all chose Mary." + +"Well?" + +"They insisted on having Mary for queen, though I told them I wouldn't +help if they did," repeated Barbara. + +"Well?" + +"Well? That's all. What do you mean, Aunty?" + +"I was waiting to hear you tell the real grievance. That the children +should want Mary for queen, when you have been one so many times, +doesn't seem to be a reason." + +Barbara was too much surprised to speak. + +"Yes, my dear, I mean it," persisted her aunt. "Now let us talk this +over. Why should you always be queen on Mamma's birthday? Who gave you +the right, I mean?" + +"The children liked to have me," faltered Barbara. + +"Precisely. But this year they liked to have Mary." + +"But I worked so hard, Aunty. You can't think how I worked. I did +everything; and sometimes I got dreadfully tired." + +"Was that to please the others?" + +"Y-es--" + +"Or would they rather have helped in the work, and did you keep it to +yourself because you liked to do it alone?" asked Aunt Kate, with a +smile. "Now, my Barbie, listen to me. You have led always because you +liked to lead, and the others submitted to you. But no one can govern +forever. The rest are growing up; they have their own rights and their +own opinions. You cannot go on always ruling them as you did when they +were little. Do you want to be a good, useful older sister, loved and +trusted, or to have Eunice slip into your place, and be the real elder +sister, while you gradually become a cipher in the family?" + +Barbara began to cry. + +"Dear child," said Aunty Kate, kissing her, "now is your chance. +Influence, not authority, should be a sister's weapon. If you want to +lead the children, you must do it with a smile, not a pout." + +The children were surprised enough that evening when Barbara came up to +offer to help tie wreaths. Her eyes looked as if she had been crying, +but she was very kind and nice all that night and next day. She was maid +of honor to little Queen Mary, after all. Eunice gave her a rapturous +kiss afterward, and said, "Oh, Barbie, how _dear_ you are!" and, +somehow, Barbara forgot to feel badly about not being queen. Some +defeats are better than victories. + + + + +WHAT THE PINK FLAMINGO DID. + + +The great pink flamingo roused from his resting-place among the sedges +when the noise began. At first he only stirred sleepily, and wondered, +half awake, at the unusual sounds; but as they increased, curiosity +began to trouble him. Party after party in launches or bright-hued +gondolas glided past, all gay and chattering, and full of excitement +about something, he did not know what. It was the first night on which +the buildings and grounds of the Chicago Fair were illuminated, and the +flamingo could not tell what to make of it, any more than could the +herons and swans, the Muscovy ducks, the cranes, or any other of the +winged creatures which had learned to make themselves at home on the +banks of the lagoons. + +The pink flamingo's name was Coco. He had been "raised" on the shore of +the St. Johns River, in Florida, as the pet and _protege_ of Cecil +Schott, a boy who had taught him many tricks,--to catch fish and fetch +them out in his mouth, as a retriever fetches a bird, to eat caramels, +to dive after objects thrown into the water and bring them up in his +beak:--after Cecil himself even, so long as he was small enough to be +counted as an "object." Often and often had Coco plunged into the deep +river, following the downward sweep of his little master, and seized him +by the arm or foot before he was anywhere near the bottom. He would eat +from Cecil's hand, also, and stand by his side, folding one wide wing +across the boy's shoulder, as though it were an arm. Cecil was growing +up now, and had been sent to school; so when Mr. Schott heard that the +Chicago directors were making a collection of birds for the Fair +Grounds, he offered Coco, whose fearlessness and familiarity with human +beings seemed peculiarly to adapt him for a public position. + +When the fifth electrical launch had sped past the sedges, and strange, +hovering lights began to burn in the sky, and ring the domes and roofs +in the distance toward the south, Coco could endure it no longer, and, +betaking himself to the water, started on a tour of investigation. He +looked very big in the dim light of the upper waterways,--almost as big +as the smaller of the gondolas. The people in the boats exclaimed with +astonishment as he passed them, his broad wings raised above him, like +rose-colored sails, and his stout legs beating the water into foam +behind, like a propeller. + +At first his course lay amid soft shadows. The upper part of the Fair +Grounds was not illuminated, and only a bird's keen vision could have +made out accustomed objects. But the flamingo had no difficulty in +seeing. He knew exactly where to look for the nest of the female swan on +the wooded island. He could even make out her dim white shape in the +gloom, and hear the disturbed flutter of her wings. There was the +plantation of white hyacinths, and there the outline of the shabby old +"Prairie Schooner," into which he had more than once poked his +inquisitive head. There stood the "Log Cabin," and beyond, the twinkling +lanterns of the Japanese Tea Garden. The pink flamingo recognized them +all. Under one graceful bridge after another, past one enormous +beautiful building after another, he swept, following the curves and +turnings of the waterways, startled here and there by unaccustomed +lights and the sounds of a hurrying crowd, till at last, with one bold +sweep, he glided under the last arch and out into the broad basin of the +Court of Honor. + +He had been there before. Catch the pink flamingo leaving any part of +the Fair Grounds unexplored! He was not that sort of bird. He had even +been there in the evening, when the moon shone clearly on the water, +with only a point of light here and there on the surrounding shores, and +no sounds to break the stillness but the plash of waves washing in from +the lake, and the low talk of little groups of late-stayers, sitting on +the steps before the Liberal Arts Building, looking across to the +fountain and the dim row of sculptured forms on the summit of the +Peristyle. But now all was different. The gilded dome of the +Administration Building was ringed with lines of fire. The facade of the +Agricultural blazed with lights, which shone on the bas-reliefs and +sculptures, on the winged Diana above, and the great bulls which guard +the approach to the boat-landing. Every figure which topped the long +double lines of the Peristyle stood out distinctly against the +transparent sky; the gilding of the broad arch toward the lake glowed +ruddy in the light, and so did the majestic figure of the Republic, its +noble outline reflected in the shimmering waters beneath. The great +fountain opposite caught the blaze, and sent its smooth shoots over the +basin edges with a white phosphorescent radiance. Then a wide beam from +a search-light swept across, and seemed to turn the figures into life; +made the form of the Discoverer and the beautiful figures of the rowing +women on either side, throb and pulsate, fluctuating with the +fluctuating ray, till they seemed to bend and move. On either side, the +electrical fountains lifted high in air great sheaves of iridescent +colors, scarlet, green, and blue, like a flag of upheaving jewels, while +the faces of the immense throng along the esplanades and on the dome of +the Administration Building changed from gloom to glory and back again +to gloom as the dancing ray wandered to and fro. + +It was a scene from fairyland; but it did not altogether please Coco, +who, startled and affrighted, made a dive, and disappeared under water +by way of a relief to his feelings. Then he came up again, and, growing +by degrees accustomed to these novel splendors, he recovered confidence, +and began to look about him. + +"Oh, what a beautiful bird!" he heard some one say; and though he did +not understand the words, he knew well enough that he was being admired, +and thereupon proceeded to make himself a part of the show. He splashed, +dived, extended his wide wings, curved his long neck, and generally +exhibited himself to the best of his ability, all the time maintaining +an absent-minded air, as if he were not aware that any one else was +present. Coco was very conceited for a bird. + +Meanwhile, at about the same moment in which the pink flamingo was +roused from his slumbers, a small Turkish boy named Hassan awoke from +his, in the retirement of the Midway Plaisance. He had not been at all +a good little Turk since he came to America, his parents thought. +Something in the air of freedom had apparently demoralized him. It might +be that domestic discipline had been relaxed since their arrival, for +there had been much to do in getting the Turkish Bazaar and the Mosque +and the Village ready; but certain it is that Hassan had been naughtier +and given more trouble during the past ten weeks than in all the +previous years of his short life. Once, in a great rain-storm, he had +actually run away, slipping past the guard at the gate, and tearing +wildly down the street. Where he was going, he did not know or care; all +he wanted was to run. How far he might have gone, or what would have +become of him in the end, no one can say, had his father not caught a +glimpse of the small fleeting figure. + +"Beard of the Prophet!" ejaculated the scandalized Mustapha. "That son +of Sheitan, the enemy of true believers, will be run over by the horses +of the infidel if I do not overtake him speedily." + +He tucked up his blue robe, which almost touched the muddy ground, it +was so long, revealing, as he did so, yellow boots topped with American +socks, and, above these, a pair of green drawers, and started in +pursuit. Alas! the guard at the turnstile stopped him, and demanded his +pass. In vain Mustapha remonstrated, and explained, in fluent Turkish, +that his sole object was to capture his evil child, who had escaped from +home. The guard did not understand the language of Turkey, and +persisted, explaining, in the tongue of Chicago, that he was acting +under orders, and that no "foreigner" could go in or out without proper +authority. + +"Permit! Permit! Pass! Pass! You must show your pass!" cried the guard. +"_Backsheesh_, you know." + +It was his sole Turkish word. He had learned it since the Fair opened +from hearing it so often. + +"You bet!" responded Mustapha. It was his sole English word. "The +Prophet visit you with a murrain and total baldness!" he continued, in +his own vernacular. Then, seeing that Hassan, who was having a most +enjoyable time, was nearing a corner and about to disappear, he uttered +a wild shout of despair, and, thrusting the guard aside, darted through +the gate and after the child. His long petticoat waggled in the wind, +and blew behind him like a wet umbrella broken loose. The guard was so +convulsed with laughter that he could only stand still and hold his +sides. Two chairmen, who had trundled two ladies down the Plaisance to +the gate, were as much convulsed as he. Little Hassan ran for all he was +worth. His gown of drab cotton, as long, in proportion, as his father's, +switched and fluttered as he flew along. But longer legs always have +the advantage over shorter ones in a race. The pursuer gained on the +pursued. When Hassan saw that there was no hope, and he was bound to be +overtaken, he just flung himself down in a mud-puddle and kicked and +screamed. His exasperated parent pulled him up, and, with a shake, set +him on his feet. Hassan made his legs limp, and refused to walk; so +Mustapha tucked him under his arm, and strode back toward the Plaisance. +The guard was still too doubled up with laughter for speech, so he let +him pass unscolded. Once safely inside, Mustapha shifted his wet and +dirty little burden on to its feet, whirled aside the drab skirt, and, +with trenchant slaps, administered a brief but effectual American +spanking. He then conducted Hassan to his veiled mother in her +retirement, and intimated his pleasure that he should be made to undergo +a further penance. + +It was this same naughty little Turk who woke up at the same time with +the pink flamingo. He heard music and shouts, and saw the same strange +glow toward the southward which had startled the bird from its rest. His +father and mother had joined the motley throng of foreign folk of all +nationalities, garbs, and shades of complexion,--Arabs, Javanese, +Alaskans, Eskimos, South Sea Islanders, Cossacks, American Indians, and +East Indians, Chinese, and Dahomyans,--who had flocked out of the +Plaisance to see the spectacle. No one was left behind but the sleeping +children, and here was Hassan, no longer asleep, but very wide awake +indeed. + +[Illustration: Down the esplanade sped the little figure.--PAGE 191.] + +No time did he lose in hesitation; he knew in a moment what he wanted to +do. His queer little clothes were close at hand,--the drab gown, still +mud-stained from his run, the yellow slippers, the small fez for his +head. Into them he skipped, and, stepping out of the door, he ran down +the Plaisance, keeping on the shaded side as far as might be, for fear +of being stopped. He need not have been afraid; there was no one to stop +him. The great Woman's Building came in sight, with the outlines of the +still larger Horticultural beyond. Down the esplanade sped the little +figure. The light grew more brilliant with every turn; more and more +people passed him, but all were pressing southward. And in a crowd like +this, nobody had time to notice the advent of such a very small Turk +among them. Hot and breathless after his long run, Hassan at last +emerged, as the pink flamingo had done, on the Court of Honor. + +Here his smallness proved an advantage to him, for he could crowd +himself into minute spaces in the living mass where a grown person could +not go, squeeze between people's legs, and wriggle and twist, all the +time pressing steadily forward, till at last he gained the parapet, and, +climbing up, seated himself comfortably on the top. Then his eyes and +mouth opened simultaneously into an "Ahi!" of wonder, for close before +him was one of the electrical fountains, shooting blue and crimson +fires, and a little beyond shone the pulsating radiance of the dazzling +forms grouped above the Discoverer, the rearing horses, the winged shape +in the bow of the boat. Never before had anything so wonderful been seen +by our little Turk. The great basin twinkled with reflected lights, like +a starry sky set upside down; overhead the statues glittered; a round +silver moon hung above, and broad rays, like her own beams intensified +and set into motion, wandered to and fro from the search-light opposite, +darting now on a splendid facade, now on a towering dome, again on a +bridge packed with people, whose expectant faces were all turned +skyward, and, finally, on a great pink bird which was wheeling and +turning in the water. + +There was a sudden small splash. + +"Oh, oh!" shrieked a child's voice, in tones of distress, "my dolly's +fallen in! Mamma, Mamma, that was my dolly that fell in. She'll be all +drowned! Oh, my dolly!" Then the voice changed to one of amazement and +joy: "Oh, Mamma, see that bird! He has got her!" + +Coco had spied the doll as it fell, and, true to his early training, +dived after it as a matter of course, and came up with the doll in his +bill. + +"Oh, you good birdie! you dear birdie!" cried the little one, stretching +her arms over the parapet. "Let me have Dolly again, please, dear +birdie!" + +Coco understood only Flamingo, and had no idea what the little girl was +saying; but as a nibble or two had showed that the doll was not edible, +he made no resistance when a gentleman reached over from the edge of a +gondola and took it from his beak. It was handed back to its little +owner amid a great clapping and laughing, and Coco was given an Albert +biscuit instead, which he liked much better, and speedily disposed of. +He knew that the applause was meant for him, and, puffed up with pride, +sailed vain-gloriously to and fro, waiting another chance to distinguish +himself. + +It came! There was another and much louder splash as a small red-capped +figure toppled over into the water. It was Hassan, who, leaning over to +watch the wonderful bird, had lost his balance. + +No one laughed this time, and there was a general cry of "Oh, it was a +child! A child has fallen in! Save him, some one!" People shouted for +"a boat;" men pulled off their coats, making ready for a plunge; women +began to cry; then, all at once, there was a general exclamation of +astonishment and admiration. + +"The bird has got him" cried a hundred voices. + +It was again Coco! To dive after Hassan, to seize the drab skirt in his +beak, and bring the child again to the surface of the water, was an easy +feat to him; but to the excited multitudes upon the banks it seemed +well-nigh a miracle. + +"Never saw such a thing in my life!" declared a man on the bridge. +"Don't tell me that bird hasn't an intellect. No, sir! There ain't a man +here could have done that better, nor so well as that there pelican. He +is smart enough to vote, he is!" + +"Too smart," remarked his next neighbor. "He'd never stick to the +regular ticket; he'd have a mind of his own. That ain't the sort we want +over here. We want voters that don't have independent ideas, but just do +as the boss tells 'em." + +"That's pretty true, I reckon," replied the first man. + +Meanwhile, Hassan was safe on shore. It had been for only one moment +that the flamingo had needed to support his burden; then it was lifted +from him by a man in a boat, who took time to tell him that he was a +"first-rate fellow, a famous fellow, and ought to have a medal from the +Humane Society." + +"He _shall_ have one!" declared an enthusiastic lady in the crowd. "I +will see to it myself." And the next morning she bought a souvenir +half-dollar, had "For a Brave Bird" engraved upon it, and a hole bored +in its rim, through which she ran a pink ribbon. This she carried over +to the Wooded Island, and, with the assistance of two Columbian guards, +captured Coco, and tied the ribbon firmly round his neck. He resisted +strenuously, and spent much time in trying to peck the decoration off; +but as time went on, and he became accustomed to it, and found that +wherever he went it made him conspicuous, and that the other birds +envied him the notice he attracted, he rather learned to like his +"medal;" and he wore it to the very end of the Columbian Exposition. + +Meanwhile, as Fate willed it, the dripping Hassan was handed ashore +precisely at that point of the esplanade where stood his father and +mother! They had not seen the accident, nor understood that it was a boy +who had fallen in and been rescued by a bird; so when a wet little +object was set to drip almost at their feet, and they recognized in it +their own offspring, whom they supposed to be safely asleep at home, it +will be easily imagined that their wrath and astonishment knew no +bounds. + +"Ahi! child of sin, contaminated by the unbeliever, is it indeed thou?" +cried the irate Mustapha. "What djinnee, what imp of Eblis hath brought +thee here?" + +"He hath been in the water, Allah preserve us!" cried the more +tender-hearted mother. "He might have been drowned." + +"In the water! Nay, then; wherefore is he not in bed where we left him? +We will see if this imp of evil be not taught to avoid the water in the +future. On my head be it if he is not, Inshallah!" + +So the weeping Hassan was led home by his family, his garments leaving a +trail of drip on the concrete all the way up the long distance; and in +the seclusion of the temporary harem he was caused to see the error of +his way. + +"Thou shalt be made to remember," declared his irate parent in the +pauses of discipline. "I will not have thee as the sons of these +infidels who despise correction, saying 'I will' and 'I will not,' and +are as a blemish and a darkening to the faces of their parents. The +Prophet rebuke me if I do! Inshallah!" + +But Coco, when the lights were put out and the great crowd streamed +away, leaving the Fair Grounds to silence and loneliness, and the +lagoons became again a soft land of shadows broken by reaches of +moonlight, sailed back to his perch among the sedges with a calm and +satisfied mind. He had a right to be pleased with himself. Had he not +saved two "people," one very small and hard, and the other very big and +soft? Nothing whispered of that dreadful half-dollar which was coming on +the morrow to vex his spirit. No one said to _him_ "Inshallah." He +tucked his head under his wing and went to sleep, a peaceful and +contented flamingo; and the moral is, "Be virtuous and you will be +happy." + + + + +TWO PAIRS OF EYES. + + +Did it ever occur to you what a difference there is in the way in which +people use their eyes? I do not mean that some people squint, and some +do not; that some have short sight, and some long sight. These are +accidental differences; and the people who cannot see far, sometimes see +more, and more truly, than do other people whose vision is as keen as +the eagle's. No, the difference between people's eyes lies in the power +and the habit of observation. + +Did you ever hear of the famous conjurer Robert Houdin, whose wonderful +tricks and feats of magic were the astonishment of Europe a few years +ago? He tells us, in his autobiography, that to see everything at a +glance, while seeming to see nothing, is the first requisite in the +education of a "magician," and that the faculty of noticing rapidly and +exactly can be trained like any other faculty. When he was fitting his +little son to follow the same profession, he used to take him past a +shop-window, at a quick walk, and then ask him how many objects in the +window he could remember and describe. At first, the child could only +recollect three or four; but gradually he rose to ten, twelve, twenty, +and, in the end, his eyes would note, and his memory retain, not less +than forty articles, all caught in the few seconds which it took to pass +the window at a rapid walk. + +It is so more or less with us all. Few things are more surprising than +the distinct picture which one mind will bring away from a place, and +the vague and blurred one which another mind will bring. Observation is +one of the valuable faculties, and the lack of it a fault which people +have to pay for, in various ways, all their lives. + +There were once two peasant boys in France, whose names were Jean and +Louis Cardilliac. They were cousins; their mothers were both widows, and +they lived close to each other in a little village, near a great forest. +They also looked much alike. Both had dark, closely shaven hair, olive +skins, and large, black eyes; but in spite of all their resemblances, +Jean was always spoken of as "lucky," and Louis as "unlucky," for +reasons which you will shortly see. + +If the two boys were out together, in the forest or the fields, they +walked along quite differently. Louis dawdled in a sort of loose-jointed +trot, with his eyes fixed on whatever happened to be in his hand,--a +sling, perhaps, or a stick, or one of those snappers with which birds +are scared away from fruit. If it were the stick, he cracked it as he +went, or he snapped the snapper, and he whistled, as he did so, in an +absent-minded way. Jean's black eyes, on the contrary, were always on +the alert, and making discoveries. While Louis stared and puckered his +lips up over the snapper or the sling, Jean would note, unconsciously +but truly, the form of the clouds, the look of the sky in the rainy +west, the wedge-shaped procession of the ducks through the air, and the +way in which they used their wings, the bird-calls in the hedge. He was +quick to mark a strange leaf, or an unaccustomed fungus by the path, or +any small article which had been dropped by the way. Once, he picked up +a five-franc piece; once, a silver pencil-case which belonged to the +_cure_, who was glad to get it again, and gave Jean ten sous by way of +reward. Louis would have liked ten sous very much, but somehow he never +found any pencil-cases; and it seemed hard and unjust when his mother +upbraided him for the fact, which, to his thinking, was rather his +misfortune than his fault. + +"How can I help it?" he asked. "The saints are kind to Jean, and they +are not kind to me,--_voila tout_!" + +"The saints help those who help themselves," retorted his mother. "Thou +art a look-in-the-air. Jean keeps his eyes open, he has wit, and he +notices." + +But such reproaches did not help Louis, or teach him anything. Habit is +so strong. + +"There!" cried his mother one day, when he came in to supper. "Thy +cousin--thy lucky cousin--has again been lucky. He has found a +truffle-bed, and thy aunt has sold the truffles to the man from Paris +for a hundred francs. A hundred francs! It will be long before thy +stupid fingers can earn the half of that!" + +"Where did Jean find the bed?" asked Louis. + +"In the oak copse near the brook, where thou mightest have found them +as easily as he," retorted his mother. "He was walking along with +Daudot, the wood cutter's dog--whose mother was a truffle-hunter--and +Daudot began to point and scratch; and Jean suspected something, got a +spade, dug, and crack! a hundred francs! Ah, _his_ mother is to be +envied!" + +"The oak copse! Near the brook!" exclaimed Louis, too much excited to +note the reproach which concluded the sentence. "Why, I was there but +the other day with Daudot, and I remember now, he scratched and whined a +great deal, and tore at the ground. I didn't think anything about it at +the time." + +"Oh, thou little imbecile--thou stupid!" cried his mother, angrily. +"There were the truffles, and the first chance was for thee. Didn't +think anything about it! Thou never dost think, thou never wilt. Out of +my sight, and do not let me see thee again till bedtime." + +Supperless and disconsolate poor Louis slunk away. He called Daudot, and +went to the oak copse, resolved that if he saw any sign of excitement on +the part of the dog, to fetch a spade and instantly begin to dig. But +Daudot trotted along quietly, as if there were not a truffle left in +France, and the walk was fruitless. + +"If I had only," became a favorite sentence with Louis, as time went on. +"If I had only noticed this." "If I had only stopped then." But such +phrases are apt to come into the mind after something has been missed by +not noticing or not stopping, so they do little good to anybody. + +Did it ever occur to you that what people call "lucky chances," though +they seem to come suddenly, are in reality prepared for by a long +unconscious process of making ready on the part of those who profit by +them? Such a chance came at last to both Jean and Louis,--to Louis no +less than to Jean; but one was prepared for it, and the other was not. + +Professor Sylvestre, a famous naturalist from Toulouse, came to the +forest village where the two boys lived, one summer. He wanted a boy to +guide him about the country, carry his plant-cases and herbals, and help +in his search after rare flowers and birds, and he asked Madame Collot, +the landlady of the inn, to recommend one. She named Jean and Louis; +they were both good boys, she said. + +So the professor sent for them to come and talk with him. + +"Do you know the forest well, and the paths?" he asked. + +Yes, both of them knew the forest very well. + +"Are there any woodpeckers of such and such a species?" he asked next. +"Have you the large lunar moth here? Can you tell me where to look for +_Campanila rhomboidalis_?" and he rapidly described the variety. + +Louis shook his head. He knew nothing of any of these things. But Jean +at once waked up with interest. He knew a great deal about +woodpeckers,--not in a scientific way, but with the knowledge of one who +has watched and studied bird habits. He had quite a collection of lunar +and other moths of his own, and though he did not recognize the rare +_Campanila_ by its botanical title, he did as soon as the professor +described the peculiarities of the leaf and blossom. So M. Sylvestre +engaged him to be his guide so long as he stayed in the region, and +agreed to pay him ten francs a week. And Mother Cardilliac wrung her +hands, and exclaimed more piteously than ever over her boy's "ill luck" +and his cousin's superior good fortune. + +One can never tell how a "chance" may develop. Professor Sylvestre was +well off, and kind of heart. He had no children of his own, and he was +devoted, above all other things, to the interest of science. He saw the +making of a first-rate naturalist in Jean Cardilliac, with his quick +eyes, his close observation, his real interest in finding out and making +sure. He grew to an interest in and liking for the boy, which ripened, +as the time drew near for him to return to his university, into an offer +to take Jean with him, and provide for his education, on the condition +that Jean, in return, should render him a certain amount of assistance +during his out-of-school hours. It was, in effect, a kind of adoption, +which might lead to almost anything; and Jean's mother was justified in +declaring, as she did, that his fortune was made. + +"And for thee, thou canst stay at home, and dig potatoes for the rest of +thy sorry life," lamented the mother of Louis. "Well, let people say +what they will, this is an unjust world; and, what is worse, the saints +look on, and do nothing to prevent it. Heaven forgive me if it is +blasphemous to speak so, but I cannot help it!" + +But it was neither "luck" nor "injustice." It was merely the difference +between "eyes and no eyes,"--a difference which will always exist and +always tell. + + + + +THE PONY THAT KEPT THE STORE. + + +It was a shabby old store, built where two cross-roads and a lane met at +the foot of a low hill, and left between them a small triangular space +fringed with grass. On the hill stood a summer hotel, full of boarders +from the neighboring city; for the place was cool and airy, and a wide +expanse of sea and rocky islands, edged with beaches and wooded points, +stretched away from the hill's foot. + +In years gone by, the shabby old store had driven quite a flourishing +trade during the months of the year when the hotel was open. The +boarders went there for their ink and tacks; their sewing-silk and +shoe-buttons; for the orange marmalade and potted ham which they +carried on picnics; for the liquid blacking, which saved the boot-boy at +the hotel so much labor; the letter-paper, on which they wrote to their +friends what a good time they were having; and all the thousand and one +things of which people who have little to do with their time and money +fancy themselves in want. But a year before the time at which the events +I am about to relate took place, the owner of the store built himself a +new and better one at a place a mile further on, where there was a still +larger hotel and a group of cottages, and removed thither with his +belongings. The old building had stood empty for some months, and at +last was hired for a queer use,--namely, to serve as stable for a very +small Shetland pony, not much larger than a calf, or an extra large +Newfoundland dog. + +"Cloud" was the pony's name. He belonged to Ned Cabot, who was nine +years old, and was not only his pony, but his intimate friend as well. +Ned loved him only the better for a terrible accident which had befallen +Cloud a few months before. + +The Cabots, who had been living on Lake Superior for a while, came back +to the East with all their goods and chattels, and among the rest, their +horses. It had been a question as to how little Cloud should travel; and +at last a box was built which could be set in a freight-car, and in +which, it was hoped, he would make the journey in safety. But accidents +sometimes happen even when the utmost care is taken, and, sad to relate, +Cloud arrived in Boston with his tiny foreleg broken. + +Horses' legs are hard to mend, you know; and generally when one breaks, +it is thought the easiest and cheapest way out of the trouble to shoot +the poor animal at once, and buy another to take his place. But the bare +mention of such a thing threw Ned into such paroxysms of grief, and he +sobbed so dreadfully, that all his family made haste to assure him that +under no circumstances should Cloud be shot. Instead, he was sent to a +hospital,--not the Massachusetts General, I think, but something almost +as superior in its line, where animals are treated, and there the +surgeons slung him up, and put his leg into plaster, exactly as if he +had been a human being. Had he been a large, heavy horse, I suppose they +could hardly have done this; but being a little light pony, it was +possible. And the result was that the poor fellow got well, and was not +lamed in the least, which made his little master very happy. He loved +Cloud all the more for this great escape, and Cloud fully returned Ned's +affection. He was a rather over-indulged and overfed pony; but with Ned, +he was always a pattern of gentleness and propriety. Ned could lie flat +on his back and read story books by the hour without the least fear that +Cloud would jump or shy or shake him off. Far from it! Cloud would +graze quietly up and down, taking pains not to disturb the reading, only +turning his head now and then to see if Ned was comfortable, and when he +found him so, giving a little satisfied whinny, which seemed to say, +"Here we are, and what a time we are having!" Surely, no pony could be +expected to do better than that. + +So now little Cloud, with his foreleg quite mended and as strong as +ever, was the sole occupant of the roomy old country store. A little +stall had been partitioned off for him in a corner where there was a +window, out of which he could see the buckboards and cut-unders drive +by, and the daisies and long grass on the opposite slope blowing in the +fresh sea wind. Horses have curiosity, and like to look out of the +window and watch what is going on as well as people do. + +There were things inside the store that were worth looking at as well as +things outside. When Mr. Harrison, the storekeeper, moved away, he +carried off most of his belongings, but a few articles he left behind, I +suppose because he did not consider them worth taking away. There were +two blue painted counters and some rough hanging shelves, a set of rusty +old scales and weights, a row of glass jars with a little dab of +something at the bottom of each,--rice, brown sugar, cream-of-tartar, +cracker crumbs, and fragments of ginger-snaps. There was also a bottle +half full of fermented olives, a paper parcel of musty corn flour, and, +greatest of all, a big triangle of cheese, blue with mould, in a round +red wooden box with wire sides, like an enormous mouse-trap. It was +quite a stock-in-trade for a pony, and Cloud had so much the air of +being in possession, that the smallest of the children at the hotel +always spoke of the place as his store. "I want to go down to Cloud's +store," they would say to their nurses. + +Ned and his sister Constance took a great deal of the care of the pony +on themselves. A freckled little country lad named Dick had been engaged +to feed and clean him; but he so often ran away from his work that the +children were never easy in their minds for fear lest Cloud had been +forgotten and was left supperless or with no bed to lie upon. Almost +always, and especially on Sunday nights, when he of the freckles was +most apt to absent himself, they would coax their mother to let them run +down the last thing and make sure that all was right. If it were not, +Ned would turn to, and Constance also, to feed and bed the pony; they +were both strong and sturdy, and could do the work very well, only +Constance always wanted to braid his mane to make it kink, and Ned would +never let her; so they sometimes ended with quarrelling. + +One day in August it happened that Ned's father and mother, his big +brother, his two sisters, and, in fact, most of the grown people in the +hotel, went off on a picnic to White Gull Island, which was about seven +miles out to sea. They started at ten in the morning, with a good +breeze, and a load of very attractive-looking lunch-baskets; but at noon +the wind died down, and did not spring up again, and when Ned's bedtime +came, they had still not returned. Their big sail could be seen far out +beyond the islands. They were rowing the boat, Mr. Gale, the +hotel-keeper, said; but unless the wind came up, he did not think they +would be in much before midnight. + +Ned had not gone with the others. He had hurt his foot a day or two +before, and his mother thought climbing rocks would be bad for it. He +had cried a little when Constance and the rest sailed away, but had soon +been consoled. Mrs. Cabot had arranged a series of treats for him, a row +with Nurse, a sea-bath, a new story-book, and had asked a little boy he +liked to come over from the other hotel and spend the afternoon on the +beach. There had been the surprise of a box of candy and two big +peaches. Altogether, the day had gone happily, and it was not till Nurse +had put Ned to bed and gone off to a "praise meeting" in the Methodist +chapel, that it occurred to him to feel lonely. + +He lay looking out at sea, which was lit by the biggest and whitest moon +ever seen. Far away he could catch the shimmer of the idle sail, which +seemed scarcely nearer than it had done at supper-time. + +"I wish Mamma were here to kiss me for good-night," reflected Ned, +rather dismally. "I don't feel sleepy a bit, and it isn't nice to have +them all gone." + +From the foot of the hill came a sound of small hoofs stamping +impatiently. Then a complaining whinny was heard. Ned sat up in bed. +Something was wrong with Cloud, he was sure. + +"It's that bad Dick. He's gone off and forgotten to give Cloud any +supper," thought Ned. Then he called "Mary! Ma-ry!" several times, +before he remembered that Mary was gone to the praise meeting. + +"I don't care!" he said aloud. "I'm not going to let my Cloudy starve +for anybody." + +So he scrambled out of bed, found his shoes, and hastily put on some of +the clothes which Mary had just taken off and folded up. There was no +one on the piazza to note the little figure as it sped down the slope. +Everybody was off enjoying the moonlight in some way or other. + +It was, indeed, as Ned had suspected. Dick of the freckles had gone +fishing and forgotten Cloud altogether. The moon shone full through the +eastern windows of the store, making it almost as light as day, and Ned +had no trouble in finding the hay and the water-pail. He watched the +pony as he hungrily champed and chewed the sweet-smelling heap and +sucked up the water, then he brushed out his stall, and scattered +straw, and then sat down "for a minute," as he told himself, to rest and +watch Cloud go to sleep. It was very pleasant in the old store, he +thought. + +Presently Cloud lay down on the straw too, and cuddled close up to Ned, +who patted and stroked him. Ned thought he was asleep, he lay so still. +But after a little while Cloud stirred and got up, first on his forelegs +and then altogether. He stood a moment watching Ned, who pretended to be +sleeping, then he opened the slatted door of his stall, moved gently +across the floor and went in behind the old blue counter. + +"What _is_ he going to do?" thought Ned. "I never saw anything so funny. +Constance will never believe when I tell her about it." + +What Cloud did was to take one of the glass jars from the shelf in his +teeth, and set it on the counter. It was the one which held the +gingersnap crumbs. Cloud lifted off the lid. Just then a clatter of +hoofs was heard outside, and another horse came in. Ned knew the horse +in a minute. It was the yellow one which Mr. Gale drove in his +buckboard. + +The yellow horse trotted up to the counter, and he and Cloud talked +together for a few minutes. It was in pony language, and Ned could not +understand what they said; but it had to do with the gingersnaps, +apparently, for Cloud poured part of them out on the counter, and the +buckboard horse greedily licked them up. Then he gave Cloud something by +way of payment. Ned could not see what, but it seemed to be a nail out +of his hind shoe, and then tiptoed out of the store and across the road +to the field where the horses grazed, while Cloud opened a drawer at the +back of the counter and threw in the nail, if it was one. It _sounded_ +like a nail. + +He had scarcely done so when more hoofs sounded, and two other horses +came in. Horse one was the bay which went with the yellow in the +buckboard, the other Mr. Gale's sorrel colt, which he allowed no one to +drive except himself. Cloud seemed very glad to see them. And such a +lively chorus went on across the counter of whinnies and snorts and +splutters, accompanied with such emphatic stamps, that Ned shrank into a +dark corner, and did not dare to laugh aloud, though he longed to as he +peeped between the bars. + +The sorrel colt seemed to want a great many things. He evidently had the +shopping instinct. Cloud lifted down all the jars, one by one, and the +colt sampled their contents. The cream-of-tartar he did not like at all; +but he ate all the brown sugar and the cracker crumbs, tasted an olive +and let it drop with a disgusted neigh, and lastly took a bite of the +mouldy cheese in the red trap, and expressed his opinion of it by what +seemed to be a "swear-word." Then he and the bay-horse and Cloud went +to the end of the store where a rusty old stove without any pipe stood, +sat down on their haunches before it, put their forelegs on its top, and +began, as it seemed, to discuss politics; at least, it sounded +wonderfully like the conversation that had gone on in that very corner +in Mr. Harrison's day, when the farmers collected to predict the defeat +of the candidate on the other side, whoever he might be. + +They talked so long that Ned grew very sleepy, and lay down again on the +straw. He felt that he ought to go home and to bed, but he did not quite +dare. The strange horses might take offence at his being there, he +thought; still, he had a comfortable feeling that as Cloud's friend they +would not do him any real harm. Even when, as it seemed, one of them +came into the stall, took hold of his shoulder, and began to shake him +violently, he was not really frightened. + +"Don't!" he said sleepily. "I won't tell anybody. Cloud knows me. I'm a +friend of his." + +"Ned! wake up! Ned! wake up!" said some one. Was it the red horse? + +No, it was his father. And there was Mamma on the other side of him. And +there was Cloud lying on the straw close by, pretending to be asleep, +but with one eye half open! + +"Wake up!" said Papa; "here it is, after eleven o'clock, and Mamma half +frightened to death at getting home and not finding you in your bed. How +did you come down here, sir?" + +"Cloud was crying for his supper, and I came down to feed him," +explained Ned. "And then I stayed to watch him keep store. Oh, it was so +funny, Mamma! The other horses came and bought things, and Cloud was +just like a real storekeeper, and sold crackers to them, and sugar, and +took the money--no, it was nails, I think." + +"My dear, you have been dreaming," said Mrs. Cabot. "Don't let him talk +any more, John. He is all excited now, and won't sleep if you do." + +So, though Ned loudly protested that he had not been asleep at all, and +so could not have dreamed, he was put to bed at once, and no one would +listen to him. And next day it was just as bad, for all of them, +Constance as well as the rest, insisted that Ned had fallen asleep in +the pony's stall and dreamed the whole thing. Even when he opened the +drawer at the back of the counter and showed them the shoe-nail that +Cloud had dropped in, they would not believe. There was nothing +remarkable in there being a nail there, they said; all sorts of things +were put in the drawers of country stores. + +But Ned and Cloud knew very well that it was not a dream. + + + + +PINK AND SCARLET. + + +"It's the most perfect beauty that ever was!" + +"Pshaw! you always say that. It's not a bit prettier than Mary's." + +"Yes, it is." + +"No, indeed, it isn't." + +The subject of dispute was a parasol,--a dark blue one, trimmed with +fringe, and with an ivory handle. The two little girls who were +discussing it were Alice Hoare and her sister Madge. It was Madge's +birthday, and the parasol was one of her presents. + +The dispute continued. + +"I wish you wouldn't always say that your things are better than any one +else's," said Alice. "It's ex-exaspering to talk like that, and Mamma +said when we exasperated it was almost as bad as telling lies." + +"She didn't say "exasperate." That wasn't the word at all; and this is +the sweetest, dearest, most perfectly beautiful parasol in the world, a +great deal prettier than your green one." + +"Yes, so it is," confessed candid Alice. "Mine is quite old now. This is +younger, and, besides, the top of mine is broken off. But yours isn't +really any prettier than Mary's." + +"It is too! It's a great deal more beautiful and a great deal more +fascinating." + +"What is that which is so fascinating?" asked their sister Mary, coming +into the room. "The new parasol? My! that is strong language to use +about a parasol. It should at least be an umbrella, I think. See, Madge, +here is another birthday gift." + +It was a gilt cage, with a pair of Java sparrows. "Oh, lovely! +delicious!" cried Madge, jumping up and down. "I think this is the best +birthday that ever was! Are they from you, Mary, darling? Thank you ever +so much! They are the most perfectly beautiful things I ever saw." + +"The parasol was the most beautiful just now," observed Alice. + +"Oh, these are much beautifuller than that, because they are alive," +replied Madge, giving her oldest sister a rapturous squeeze. + +"I wish you'd make me a birthday present in return," said Mary. "I wish +you'd drop that bad habit of exaggerating everything you like, and +everything you don't like. All your 'bads' are 'dreadfuls,'--all your +pinks are scarlets." + +"I don't know what you mean," said Madge, puzzled and offended. + +"It's only what Mamma has often spoken to you about, dear Madgie. It is +saying more than is quite true, and more than you quite feel. I am sure +you don't mean to be false, but people who are not used to you might +think you so." + +"It's because I like things so much." + +"No, for when you don't like them, it's just as bad. I have heard you +say fifty times, at least, 'It is the horridest thing I ever saw,' and +you know there couldn't be fifty 'horridest' things." + +"But you all know what I mean." + +"Well, we can guess, but you ought to be more exact. And, besides, Papa +says if we use up all our strong words about little every-day things, we +sha'n't have any to use when we are talking about really great things. +If you call a heavy muffin 'awful,' what are you going to say about an +earthquake or tornado?" + +"We don't have any earthquakes in Groton, and I don't ever mean to go to +places where they do," retorted Madge, triumphantly. + +"Madge, how bad you are!" cried little Alice. "You ought to promise +Mary right away, because it's your birthday." + +"Well, I'll try," said Madge. But she did not make the promise with much +heart, and she soon forgot all about it. It seemed to her that Mary was +making a great fuss about a small thing. + +Are there any small things? Sometimes I am inclined to doubt it. A +fever-germ can only be seen under the microscope, but think what a +terrible work it can do. The avalanche, in its beginning, is only a few +moving particles of snow; the tiny spring feeds the brook, which in turn +feeds the river; the little evil, unchecked, grows into the habit which +masters the strongest man. All great things begin in small things; and +these small things which are to become we know not what, should be +important in our eyes. + +Madge Hoare meant to be a truthful child; but little by little, and day +by day, her perception of what truth really is, was being worn away by +the habit of exaggeration. + +"Perfectly beautiful," "perfectly horrible," "perfectly dreadful," +"perfectly fascinating," such were the mild terms which she daily used +to describe the most ordinary things,--apples, rice puddings, arithmetic +lessons, gingham dresses, and, as we have seen, blue parasols! And the +habit grew upon her, as habits will. When she needed stronger language +than usual, things had to be "horrider" than horrid, and "beautifuller" +than beautiful. And the worst of it was, that she was all the time half +conscious of her own insincerity, and that, to use Mary's favorite +figure, she _meant_ pink, but she _said_ scarlet. + +The family fell so into the habit of making mental allowances and +deductions for all Madge's statements that sometimes they fell into the +habit of not believing enough. "It is only Madge!" they would say, and +so dismiss the subject from their minds. This careless disbelief vexed +and hurt Madge very often, but it did not hurt enough to cure her. One +day, however, it did lead to something which she could not help +remembering. + +It was warm weather still, although September, and Ernest, the little +baby brother, whom Madge loved best of all the children, was playing one +morning in the yard by himself. Madge was studying an "awful" arithmetic +lesson upstairs at the window. She could not see Ernest, who was making +a sand-pie directly beneath her; but she did see an old woman peer over +the fence, open the gate, and steal into the yard. + +"What a horrid-looking old woman!" thought Madge. "The multiple of +sixteen added to--Oh, bother! what an awful sum this is!" She forgot the +old woman for a few moments, then she again saw her going out of the +yard, and carrying under her cloak what seemed to be a large bundle. The +odd thing was, that the bundle seemed to have legs, and to kick; or was +it the wind blowing the old woman's cloak about? + +Madge watched the old woman out of sight with a puzzled and +half-frightened feeling. "Could she have stolen anything?" she asked +herself; and at last she ran downstairs to see. Nothing seemed missing +from the hall, only Ernie's straw hat lay in the middle of the gravel +walk. + +"Mamma!" cried Madge, bursting into the library where her mother was +talking to a visitor. "There has been the most perfectly horrible old +woman in our yard that I ever saw. She was so awful-looking that I was +afraid she had been stealing something. Did you see her, Mamma?" + +"My dear, all old women are awful in your eyes," said Mrs. Hoare, +calmly. "This was old Mrs. Shephard, I presume. I told her to come for a +bundle of washing. Run away now, Madge, I am busy." + +Madge went, but she still did not feel satisfied. The more she thought +about the old woman, the more she was sure that it was not old Mrs. +Shephard. She went with her fears to Mary. + +"She was just like a gypsy," she explained, "or a horrible old witch. +Her hair stuck out so, and she had the awfullest face! I am almost sure +she stole something, and carried it away under her shawl, sister." + +"Nonsense!" said Mary, who was drawing, and not inclined to disturb +herself for one of Madge's "cock-and-bull" stories. "It was only one of +Mamma's old goodies, you may be sure. Don't you recollect what a fright +you gave us about the robber, who turned out to be a man selling apples; +and that other time, when you were certain there was a bear in the +garden, and it was nothing but Mr. Price's big Newfoundland?" + +"But this was quite different; it really was. This old woman was really +awful." + +"Your old women always are," replied Mary, unconcernedly, going on with +her sketch. + +No one would attend to Madge's story, no one sympathized with her alarm. +She was like the boy who cried "Wolf!" so often that, when the real wolf +came, no one heeded his cries. But the family roused from their +indifference, when, an hour later, Nurse came to ask where Master Ernie +could be, and search revealed the fact that he was nowhere about the +premises. Madge and her old woman were treated with greater respect +then. Papa set off for the constable, and Jim drove rapidly in the +direction which the old woman was taking when last seen. Poor Mrs. Hoare +was terribly anxious and distressed. + +"I blame myself for not attending at once to what Madge said," she told +Mary. "But the fact is that she exaggerates so constantly that I have +fallen into the habit of only half listening to her. If it had been +Alice, it would have been quite different." + +Madge overheard Mamma say this, and she crept away to her own room, and +cried as if her heart would break. + +"If Ernie is never found, it will all be my fault," she thought. "Nobody +believes a word that I say. But they would have believed if Alice had +said it, and Mary would have run after that wicked old woman, and got +dear baby away from her. Oh dear, how miserable I am!" + +Madge never forgot that long afternoon and that wretched night. Mamma +did not go to bed at all, and none of them slept much. It was not till +ten o'clock the next morning that Papa and Jim came back, bringing--oh, +joy!--little Ernie with them, his pretty hair all tangled and his rosy +cheeks glazed with crying, but otherwise unhurt. He had been found +nearly ten miles away, locked in a miserable cottage by the old woman, +who had taken off his nice clothes and dressed him in a ragged frock. +She had left him there while she went out to beg, or perhaps to make +arrangements for carrying him farther out of reach; but she had given +him some bread and milk for supper and breakfast, and the little fellow +was not much the worse for his adventure; and after a bath and a +re-dressing, and after being nearly kissed to death by the whole family, +he went to sleep in his own crib very comfortably. + +"Papa," said Madge that night, "I never mean to exaggerate any more as +long as I live. I mean to say exactly what I think, only not so much, so +that you shall all have confidence in me. And then, next time baby is +stolen, you will all believe what I say." + +"I hope there will never be any 'next time,'" observed her mother; "but +I shall have to be glad of what happened this time, if it really cures +you of such a bad habit, my little Madge." + + + + +DOLLY'S LESSON. + + +"What is presence of mind, any way?" demanded little Dolly Ware, as she +sat, surrounded by her family, watching the sunset. + +The sunset hour is best of all the twenty-four in Nantucket. At no other +time is the sea so blue and silvery, or the streaks of purple and pale +green which mark the place of the sand-spits and shallows that underlie +the island waters so defined, or of such charming colors. The wind blows +across softly from the south shore, and brings with it scents of heath +and thyme, caught from the high upland moors above the town. The sun +dips down, and sends a flash of glory to the zenith; and small pink +clouds curl up about the rising moon, fondle her, as it were, and seem +to love her. It is a delightful moment, and all Nantucket dwellers learn +to watch for it. + +It was the custom of the Ware family, as soon as they had despatched +their supper,--a very hearty supper, suited to young appetites sharpened +by sea air;--of chowder, or hot lobster, or a newly caught blue-fish, +with piles of brown bread and butter, and unlimited milk,--to rush out +_en masse_ to the piazza of their little cottage, and "attend to the +sunset," as though it were a family affair. It was the hour when jokes +were cracked and questions asked, and when Mamma, who was apt to be +pretty busy during the daytime, had leisure to answer them. + +Dolly was youngest of the family,--a thin, wiry child, tall for her +years, with a brown bang lying like a thatch over a pair of bright +inquisitive eyes, and a thick pig-tail braided down her back. Phyllis, +the next in age, was short and fat; then came Harry, then Erma, just +sixteen (named after a German great-grandmother), and, last of all, +Jack, tallest and jolliest of the group, who had just "passed his +preliminaries," and would enter college next year. Mrs. Ware might be +excused for the little air of motherly pride with which she gazed at her +five. They were fine children, all of them,--frank, affectionate, +generous, with bright minds and healthy bodies. + +"Presence of mind sometimes means absence of body," remarked Jack, in +answer to Dolly's question. + +"I was speaking to Mamma," said Dolly, with dignity. "I wasn't asking +you." + +"I am aware of the fact, but I overlooked the formality, for once. What +makes you want to know, midget?" + +"There was a story in the paper about a girl who hid the kerosene can +when the new cook came, and it said she showed true presence of mind," +replied Dolly. + +"Oh, that was only fun! It didn't mean anything." + +"Isn't there any such thing, then?" + +"Why, of course there is. Picking up a shell just before it bursts in a +hospital tent, and throwing it out of the door, is presence of mind." + +"Yes, and tying a string round the right place on your leg when you've +cut an artery," added Harry, eagerly. + +"Swallowing a quart of whiskey when a rattlesnake bites you," suggested +Jack. + +"Saving the silver, instead of the waste-paper basket, when the house is +on fire," put in Erma. + +Dolly looked from one to the other. + +"What funny things!" she cried. "I don't believe you know anything about +it. Mamma, tell me what it really means." + +"I think," said Mrs. Ware, in those gentle tones to which her children +always listened, "that presence of mind means keeping cool, and having +your wits about you, at critical moments. Our minds--our reasoning +faculties, that is--are apt to be stunned or shocked when we are +suddenly frightened or excited; they leave us, and go away, as it were, +and it is only afterward that we pick ourselves up, and realize what we +ought to have done. To act coolly and sensibly in the face of danger is +a fine thing, and one to be proud of." + +"Should you be proud of me if I showed presence of mind?" asked Dolly, +leaning her arms on her mother's lap. + +"Very proud," replied Mrs. Ware, smiling as she stroked the brown +head,--"very proud, indeed." + +"I mean to do it," said Dolly, in a firm tone. + +There was a general laugh. + +"How will you go to work?" asked Jack. "Shall I step down to Hussey's, +and get a shell for you to practise on?" + +"She'll be setting the house on fire some night, to show what she can +do," added Harry, teasingly. + +"I shall do no such thing," protested Dolly, indignantly. "How foolish +you are! You don't understand a bit! I don't want to make things happen; +but, if they do happen, I shall try to keep cool and have my wits about +me, and perhaps I shall." + +"It would be lovely to be brave and do heroic things," remarked Phyllis. + +"You could at least be brave enough to use your common sense," said her +mother. "Yours is a very good resolution, Dolly dear, and I hope you'll +keep to it." + +"I will," said Dolly, and marched undauntedly off to bed. Later, she +found herself repeating, as if it were a lesson to be learned, "Presence +of mind means keeping cool, and having your wits about you;" and she +said it over and over every morning and evening after that, as she +braided her hair. Phyllis overheard, and laughed at her a little; but +Dolly didn't mind being laughed at, and kept on rehearsing her sentence +all the same. + +It is not given to all of us to test ourselves, and discover by actual +experiment just how much a mental resolution has done for us. Dolly, +however, was to have the chance. The bathing-beach at Nantucket is a +particularly safe one, and the water through the summer months most warm +and delicious. All the children who lived on the sandy bluff known as +"The Cliff" were in the habit of bathing; and the daily dip taken in +company was the chief event of the day, in their opinion. The little +Wares all swam like ducks; and no one thought of being nervous or +apprehensive if Harry struck out boldly for the jetty, or if Erma and +Phyllis were seen side by side at a point far beyond the depth of either +of them, or little Dolly took a "header" into deep water off an old +boat. + +It happened, about two months after the talk on the piazza, that Dolly +was bathing with Kitty Allen, a small neighbor of her own age. Kitty had +just been learning to swim, and was very proud of her new accomplishment; +but she was by no means so sure of herself or so much at home in the +water as Dolly, who had learned three years before, and practised +continually. + +The two children had swam out for quite a distance; then, as they turned +to go back, Kitty suddenly realized her distance from the shore, and was +seized with immediate and paralyzing terror. + +"Oh, oh!" she gasped. "How far out we are! We shall never get back in +the world! We shall be drowned! Dolly Ware, we shall certainly be +drowned!" + +She made a vain clutch at Dolly, and, with a wild scream, went down, and +disappeared. + +Dolly dived after her, only to be met by Kitty coming up to the surface +again, and frantically reaching out, as drowning persons do, for +something to hold by. The first thing she touched was Dolly's large +pig-tail, and, grasping that tight, she sank again, dragging Dolly down +with her, backward. + +It was really a hazardous moment. Many a good swimmer has lost his life +under similar circumstances. Nothing is more dangerous than to be caught +and held by a person who cannot swim, or who is too much disabled by +fear to use his powers. + +And now it was that Dolly's carefully conned lesson about presence of +mind came to her aid. "Keep cool; have your wits about you," rang +through her ears, as, held in Kitty's desperate grasp, she was dragged +down, down into the sea. A clear sense of what she ought to do flashed +across her mind. She must escape from Kitty and hold her up, but not +give Kitty any chance to drag her down again. As they rose, she pulled +her hair away with a sudden motion, and seized Kitty by the collar of +her bathing-dress, behind. + +"Float, and I'll hold you up," she gasped. "If you try to catch hold of +me again, I'll just swim off, and leave you, and then you _will_ be +drowned, Kitty Allen." + +Kitty was too far gone to make any very serious struggle. Then Dolly, +striking out strongly, and pushing Kitty before her, sent one wild cry +for help toward the beach. + +The cry was heard. It seemed to Dolly a terribly long time before any +answer came, but it was in reality less than five minutes before a boat +was pushed into the water. Dolly saw it rowing toward her, and held on +bravely. "Be cool; have your wits about you," she said to herself. And +she kept firm grasp of her mind, and would not let the fright, of whose +existence she was conscious, get possession of her. + +Oh, how welcome was the dash of the oars close at hand, how gladly she +relinquished Kitty to the strong arms that lifted her into the boat! +But when the men would have helped her in too, she refused. + +"No, thank you; I'll swim!" she said. It seemed nothing to get herself +to shore, now that the responsibility of Kitty and Kitty's weight were +taken from her. She swam pluckily along, the boat keeping near, lest her +strength should give out, and reached the beach just as Jack, that +moment aware of the situation, was dashing into the water after her. She +was very pale, but declared herself not tired at all, and she dressed +and marched sturdily up the cliff, refusing all assistance. + +There was quite a little stir among the summer colony over the +adventure, and Mrs. Ware had many compliments paid her for her child's +behavior. Mr. Allen came over, and had much to say about the +extraordinary presence of mind which Dolly had shown. + +"It was really remarkable," he said. "If she had fought with Kitty, or +if she had tried to swim ashore and had not called for assistance, they +might easily have both been drowned. It is extraordinary that a child of +that age should keep her head, and show such coolness and decision." + +"It wasn't remarkable at all," Dolly declared, as soon as he was gone. +"It was just because you said that on the piazza that night." + +"Said what?" + +"Why, Mamma, surely you haven't forgotten. It was that about presence of +mind, you know. I taught it to myself, and have said it over and over +ever since,--'Keep cool; have your wits about you.' I said it in the +water when Kitty was pulling me under." + +"Did you, really?" + +"Indeed, I did. And then I seemed to know what to do." + +"Well, it was a good lesson," said Mrs. Ware, with glistening eyes. "I +am glad and thankful that you learned it when you did, Dolly." + +"Are you proud of me?" demanded Dolly. + +"Yes, I am proud of you." + +This capped the climax of Dolly's contentment. Mamma was proud of her; +she was quite satisfied. + + + + +A BLESSING IN DISGUISE. + + +It was a dark day for Patty Flint when her father, with that curt +severity of manner which men are apt to assume to mask an inward +awkwardness, announced to her his intention of marrying for the second +time. + +"Tell the others after I am gone out," he concluded. + +"But, Papa, do explain a little more to me before you go," protested +Patty. "Who is this Miss Maskelyne? What kind of a person is she? Must +we call her mother?" + +"Well--we'll leave that to be settled later on. Miss Maskelyne is +a--a--well, a very nice person indeed, Patty. She'll make us all very +comfortable." + +"We always have been comfortable, I'm sure," said Patty, in an injured +tone. + +Dr. Flint instinctively cast a look around the room. It _was_ +comfortable, certainly, so far as neatness and sufficient furniture and +a hot fire in an air-tight stove can make a room comfortable. There was +a distinct lack of anything to complain of, yet something seemed to him +lacking. What was it? His thoughts involuntarily flew to a room which he +had quitted only the day before, no larger, no sunnier, not so well +furnished, and which yet, to his mind, seemed full of a refinement and +homelikeness which he missed in his own, though, man-like, he could have +in no wise explained what went to produce it. + +His rather stern face relaxed with a half-smile; his eyes seemed to seek +out a picture far away. But Patty was watching him,--an observant, +decidedly aggrieved Patty, who had done her best for him since her +mother died, and a good best too, her age considered, and who was not +inexcusable in disliking to be supplanted by a stranger. Poor Patty! But +even for Patty's sake it was better so, the father reflected, looking at +the prim, opinionated little figure before him, and noting how all the +childishness and girlishness seemed to have faded out of it during three +years of responsibility. She certainly had managed wonderfully for a +child of fifteen, and his voice was very kind as he said, "Yes, my dear, +so we have. You've been a good girl, Patty, and done your best for us +all; but you're young to have so much care, and when the new mother +comes, she will relieve you of it, and leave you free to occupy and +amuse yourself as other girls of your age do." + +He kissed Patty as he finished speaking. Kisses were not such every-day +matters in the Flint family as to be unimportant, and Patty, with all +her vexation, could not but be gratified. Then he hurried away, and, +after watching till his gig turned the corner, she went slowly upstairs +to the room where the children were learning their Sunday-school +lessons. + +There were three besides herself,--Susy and Agnes, aged respectively +twelve and ten; and Hal, the only boy, who was not quite seven. This +hour of study in the middle of Saturday morning was deeply resented by +them all; but Patty's rules were like the laws of the Medes and +Persians, which alter not, and they dared not resist. They had solaced +the tedium of the occasion by a contraband game of checkers during her +absence, but had pushed the board under the flounce of the sofa when +they heard her steps, and flown back to their tasks. Over-discipline +often leads to little shuffles and deceptions like this, and Patty, who +loved authority for authority's sake, was not always wise in enforcing +it. + +"When you have got through with your lessons, I have something to tell +you," was her beginning. + +It was an indiscreet one; for of course the children at once protested +that they were through! How could they be expected to interest +themselves in the "whole duty of man," with a secret obviously in the +air. + +"Very well, then," said Patty, indulgently,--for she was dying to tell +her news,--"Papa has just asked me to say to you that he is--is--going +to be married to a lady in New Bedford." + +"Married!" cried Agnes, with wide-open eyes. "How funny! I thought only +people who are young got married. Can we go to the wedding, do you +suppose, Patty?" + +"Oh, perhaps we shall be bridesmaids! I'd like that," added Susy. + +"And have black cake in little white boxes, just as many as we want. +Goody!" put in Hal. + +"Oh, children, how can you talk so?" cried Patty, all her half-formed +resolutions of keeping silence and not letting the others know how she +felt about it flying to the winds. "Do you really want a stepmother to +come in and scold and interfere and spoil all our comfort? Do you want +some one else to tell you what to do, and make you mind, instead of me? +You're too little to know about such things, but I know what stepmothers +are. I read about them in a book once, and they're dreadful creatures, +and always hate the children, and try to make their Papas hate them too. +It will be awful to have one, I think." + +Patty was absolutely crying as she finished this outburst; and, emotion +being contagious, the little ones began to cry also. + +"Why does Papa want to marry her, if she's so horrid?" sobbed Agnes. + +"I'll never love her!" declared Susy. + +"And I'll set my wooden dog on her!" added Hal. + +"Oh, Hal," protested Patty, alarmed at the effect of her own injudicious +explosion, "don't talk like that! We mustn't be rude to her. Papa +wouldn't like it. Of course, we needn't love her, or tell her things, or +call her 'mother,' but we _must_ be polite to her." + +"I don't know what you mean exactly, but I'm not going to be it, +anyway," said Agnes. + +And, indeed, Patty's notion of a politeness which was to include neither +liking nor confidence nor respect _was_ rather a difficult one to +comprehend. + +None of the children went to the wedding, which was a very quiet one. +Patty declared that she was glad; but in her heart I think she regretted +the loss of the excitement, and the opportunity for criticism. A big +loaf of thickly frosted sponge cake arrived for the children, with some +bon-bons, and a kind little note from the bride; and these offerings +might easily have placated the younger ones, had not Patty diligently +fanned the embers of discontent and kept them from dying out. + +And all the time she had no idea that she was doing wrong. She felt +ill-treated and injured, and her imagination played all sorts of +unhappy tricks. She made pictures of the future, in which she saw +herself neglected and unloved, her little sisters and brother +ill-treated, her father estranged, and the household under the rule of +an enemy, unscrupulous, selfish, and cruel. Over these purely imaginary +pictures she shed many needless tears. + +"But there's one thing," she told herself,--"it can't last always. When +girls are eighteen, they come of age, and can go away if they like; and +I _shall_ go away! And I shall take the children with me. Papa won't +care for any of us by that time; so he will not object." + +So with this league, offensive and defensive, formed against her, the +new Mrs. Flint came home. Mary the cook and Ann the housemaid joined in +it to a degree. + +"To be sure, it's provoking enough that Miss Patty can be when she's a +mind," observed Mary; "a-laying down the law, and ordering me about, +when she knows no more than the babe unborn how things should be done! +Still, I'd rather keep on wid her than be thrying my hand at a stranger. +This'll prove a hard missis, mark my word for it, Ann! See how the +children is set against her from the first! That's a sign." + +Everything was neat and in order on the afternoon when Dr. and Mrs. +Flint were expected. Patty had worked hard to produce this result. "She +shall see that I know how to keep house," she said to herself. All the +rooms had received thorough sweeping, all the rugs had been beaten and +the curtains shaken out, the chairs had their backs exactly to the wall, +and every book on the centre table lay precisely at right angles with a +second book underneath it. Patty's ideas of decoration had not got +beyond a stiff neatness. She had yet to learn how charming an easy +disorder can be made. + +The children, in immaculate white aprons, waited with her in the parlor. +They did not run out into the hall when the carriage stopped. The +malcontent Ann opened the door in silence. + +"Where are the children?" were the first words that Patty heard her +stepmother say. + +The voice was sweet and bright, with a sort of assured tone in it, as of +one used always to a welcome. She did not wait for the Doctor, but +walked into the room by herself, a tall, slender, graceful woman, with a +face full of brilliant meanings, of tenderness, sense, and fun. One look +out of her brown eyes did much toward the undoing of Patty's work of +prejudice with the little ones. + +"Patty, dear child, where are you?" she said. And she kissed her warmly, +not seeming to notice the averted eyes and the unresponding lips. Then +she turned to the little ones, and somehow, by what magic they could not +tell, in a very few minutes they had forgotten to be afraid of her, +forgotten that she was a stranger and a stepmother, and had begun to +talk to her freely and at their ease. Dr. Flint's face brightened as he +saw the group. + +"Getting acquainted with the new mamma?" he said. "That's right." + +But this was a mistake. It reminded the children that she was new, and +they drew back again into shyness. His wife gave him a rapid, humorous +look of warning. + +"It always takes a little while for people to get acquainted," she said; +"but these 'people' and I do not mean to wait long." + +She smiled as she spoke, and the children felt the fascination of her +manner; only Patty held aloof. + +The next few weeks went unhappily enough with her. She had to see her +adherents desert her, one by one; to know that Mary and Ann chanted the +praises of the new housekeeper to all their friends; to watch the little +girls' growing fondness for the stranger; to notice that little Hal +petted and fondled her as he had never done his rather rigorous elder +sister; and that her father looked younger and brighter and more content +than she had ever seen him look before. She had also to witness the +gradual demolishment of the stiff household arrangements which she had +inherited traditionally from her mother, and sedulously observed and +kept up. + +The new Mrs. Flint was a born homemaker. The little instinctive touches +which she administered here and there presently changed the whole aspect +of things. The chairs walked away from the walls; the sofa was wheeled +into the best position for the light; plants, which Patty had eschewed +as making trouble and "slop," blossomed everywhere. Books were +"strewed," as Patty in her secret thought expressed it, in all +directions; fresh flowers filled the vases; the blinds were thrown back +for the sunshine to stream in. The climax seemed to come when Mrs. Flint +turned out the air-tight stove, opened the disused fireplace, routed a +pair of andirons from the attic, and set up a wood fire. + +"It will snap all over the room. The ashes will dirty everything. The +children will set fire to their aprons, and burn up!" objected Patty. + +"There's a big wire fireguard coming to make the children safe," replied +her stepmother, easily. "As for the snapping and the dirt, that's all +fancy, Patty. I've lived with a wood fire all my life, and it's no +trouble at all, if properly managed. I'm sure you'll like it, dear, when +you are used to it." + +And the worst was that Patty _did_ like it. It was so with many of the +new arrangements. She opposed them violently at first in her heart, not +saying much,--for Mrs. Flint, with all her brightness and affectionate +sweetness, had an air of experience and authority about her which it was +not easy to dispute,--and later ended by confessing to herself that they +were improvements. A gradual thaw was taking place in her frozen little +nature. She fought against it; but as well might a winter-sealed pond +resist the sweet influences of spring. + +Against her will, almost without her knowledge, she was receiving the +impress of a character wider and sweeter and riper than her own. +Insensibly, an admiration of her stepmother grew upon her. She saw her +courted by strangers for her beauty and grace; she saw her become a sort +of queen among the young people of the town; but she also saw--she could +not help seeing--that no tinge of vanity ever marred her reception of +this regard, and that no duty was ever left undone, no kindness ever +neglected, because of the pressure of the pleasantness of life. And +then--for a girl cannot but enjoy being made the most of--she gradually +realized that Mrs. Flint, in spite of coldness and discouragement, cared +for her rights, protected her pleasures, was ready to take pains that +Patty should have her share and her chance, should be and appear at her +best. It was something she had missed always,--the supervision and +loving watchfulness of a mother. Now it was hers; and, though she fought +against the conviction, it was sent to her. + +In less than a year Patty had yielded unconditionally to the new +_regime_. She was a generous child at heart, and, her opposition once +conquered, she became fonder of her stepmother than all the rest put +together. Simply and thoroughly she gave herself up to be re-moulded +into a new pattern. Her standards changed; her narrow world of motives +and ideas expanded and enlarged, till from its confines she saw the +illimitable width of the whole universe. Sunshine lightened all her dark +places, and set her dormant capacities to growing. Such is the result, +at times, of one gracious, informing nature upon others. + +Before her eighteenth birthday, the date which she had set in her first +ignorant revolt of soul for escape from an imaginary tyranny, the +stepmother she had so dreaded was become her best and most intimate +friend. It was on that very day that she made for the first time a full +confession of her foolishness. + +"What a goose!--what a silly, bad thing I was!" she said. "I hated the +idea of you, Mamma. I said I never would like you, whatever you did; and +then I just went and fell in love with you!" + +"You hid the hatred tolerably well, but I am happy to say that you don't +hide the love," said Mrs. Flint, with a smile. + +"Hide it? I don't want to! I wonder what did make me behave so? Oh, I +know,--it was that absurd book! I wish people wouldn't write such +things, Mamma. When I'm quite grown up I mean to write a book myself, +and just tell everybody how different it really is, and that the nicest, +dearest, best things in the world, and the greatest blessings, +are--stepmothers." + +"Blessings in disguise," said Mrs. Flint. "Well, Patty, I am afraid I +was pretty thoroughly disguised in the beginning; but if you consider me +a blessing now, it's all right." + +"Oh, it's all just as right as it can be!" said Patty, fervently. + + + + +A GRANTED WISH. + + +This is a story about princesses and beggar-girls, hovels and palaces, +sweet things and sad things, fullness and scarcity. It is a simple story +enough, and mostly true. And as it touches so many and such different +extremes of human condition and human experience, it ought by good +rights to interest almost everybody; don't you think so? + +Effie Wallis's great wish was to have a doll of her own. This was not a +very unreasonable wish for any little girl to feel, one would think, yet +there seemed as little likelihood of its being granted as that the moon +should come down out of the sky and offer itself to her as a plaything; +for Effie and her parents belonged to the very poorest of the London +poor, and how deep a poverty that is, only London knows. + +We have poor people enough, and sin and suffering enough in our own +large cities, but I don't think the poorest of them are quite so badly +off as London's worst. Effie and her father and mother and her little +sister and her three brothers all lived in a single cellar-like room, in +the most squalid quarter of St. Giles. There was almost no furniture in +the room; in winter it was often fireless, in summer hot always, and +full of evil smells. Food was scanty, and sometimes wanting altogether, +for gin cost less than bread, and Effie's father was continuously drunk, +her mother not infrequently so. It was a miserable home and a wretched +family. The parents fought, the children cried and quarrelled, and the +parents beat them. As the boys grew bigger, they made haste to escape +into the streets, where all manner of evil was taught them. Jack, the +eldest, who was but just twelve, had twice been arrested, and sentenced +to a term of imprisonment for picking pockets. They were growing up to +be little thieves, young ruffians, and what chance for better things was +there in the squalid cellar and the comfortless life, and how little +chance of a doll for Effie, you will easily see. Poor doll-less Effie! +She was only six years old, and really a sweet little child. The grime +on her cheeks did not reach to her heart, which was as simple and +ignorant and innocent as that of white-clad children, whose mothers kiss +them, and whose faces are washed every day. + +In all her life Effie had only seen one doll. It was a battered object, +with one leg gone, and only half a nose, but, to Effie's eyes, it was a +beauty and a treasure. This doll was the property of a little girl to +whom Effie had never dared to speak, she seemed to her so happy and +privileged, so far above herself, as she strutted up and down the alley +with other children, bearing the one-legged doll in her arms. It was not +the alley in which the Wallises lived, but a somewhat wider one into +which that opened. One of Effie's few pleasures was to creep away when +she could, and, crouched behind a post at the alley's foot, watch the +children playing there. No one thought of or noticed her. Once, when the +owner of the doll threw her on the ground for a moment and ran away, +Effie ventured to steal out and touch the wonderful creature with her +finger. It was only a touch, for the other children soon returned, and +Effie fled back to her hiding-place; but she never forgot it. Oh, if +only she could have a doll like that for her own, what happiness it +would be, she thought; but she never dared to mention the doll to her +mother, or to put the wish into words. + +If any one had come in just then and told Effie that one day she was to +own a doll far more beautiful than the shabby treasure she so coveted, +and that the person to give it her would be the future Queen of +England,--why, first it would have been needful to explain to her what +the words meant, and then she certainly wouldn't have believed them. +What a wide, wide distance there seemed from the wretched alley where +the little, half-clad child crouched behind the post, to the sunny +palace where the fair princess, England's darling, sat surrounded by her +bright-faced children,--a distance too wide to bridge, as it would +appear; yet it was bridged, and there was a half-way point where both +could meet, as you will see. That half-way point was called "The Great +Ormond Street Child's Hospital." + +For one day a very sad thing happened to Effie. Sent by her mother to +buy a quartern of gin, she was coming back with the jug in her hand, +when a half-tipsy man, reeling against her, threw her down just where a +flight of steps led to a lower street. She was picked up and carried +home, where for some days she lay in great pain, before a kind woman who +went about to read the Bible to the poor, found her out, and sent the +dispensary doctor to see her. He shook his head gravely after he had +examined her, and said her leg was badly broken, and ought to have been +seen to long before, and that there was no use trying to cure her there, +and she must be carried to the hospital. Mrs. Wallis made a great outcry +over this, for mothers are mothers, even when they are poor and drunken +and ignorant, and do not like to have their children taken away from +them; but in the end the doctor prevailed. + +Effie hardly knew when they moved her, for the doctor had given her +something which made her sleep heavily and long. It was like a dream +when she at last opened her eyes, and found herself in a place which she +had never seen before,--a long, wide, airy room, with a double row of +narrow, white beds like the one in which she herself was, and in most of +the beds sick children lying. Bright colored pictures and texts painted +gaily in red and blue hung on the walls above the beds; some of the +counterpanes had pretty verses printed on them. Effie could not read, +but she liked to look at the texts, they were so bright. There were +flowers in pots and jars on the window-sills, and on some of the little +tables that stood beside the beds, and tiny chairs with rockers, in +which pale little boys and girls sat swinging to and fro. A great many +of them were playing with toys, and they all looked happy. An air of +fresh, cheerful neatness was over all the place, and altogether it was +so pleasant that for a long time Effie lay staring about her, and +speaking not a word. At last, in a faint little voice, she half +whispered, "Where is this?" + +Faint as was the voice, some one heard it, and came at once to the +bedside. This somebody was a nice, sweet-faced, motherly looking woman, +dressed in the uniform of Miss Nightingale's nurses. She smiled so +kindly at Effie that Effie smiled feebly back. + +"Where is this?" she asked again. + +"This is a nice place where they take care of little children who are +ill, and make them well again," answered the nurse, brightly. + +"Do you live here?" said Effie, after a pause, during which her large +eyes seemed to grow larger. + +"Yes. My name is Nurse Johnstone, and I am _your_ nurse. You've had a +long sleep, haven't you, dear? Now you've waked up, would you like some +nice milk to drink?" + +"Y-es," replied Effie, doubtfully. But when the milk came, she liked it +very much, it was so cool and rich and sweet. It was brought in a little +blue cup, and Effie drank it through a glass tube, because she must not +lift her head. There was a bit of white bread to eat besides, but Effie +did not care for that. She was drowsy still, and fell asleep as soon as +the last mouthful of milk was swallowed. + +When she next waked, Nurse Johnstone was there again, with such a good +little cupful of hot broth for Effie to eat, and another slice of bread. +Effie's head was clearer now, and she felt much more like talking and +questioning. The ward was dark and still, only a shaded lamp here and +there showed the little ones asleep in their cots. + +"This is a nice place I think," said Effie, as she slowly sipped the +soup. + +"I'm glad you like it," said the nurse, "almost all children do." + +"I like you, too," said Effie, with a contented sigh, "and _that_," +pointing to the broth. She had not once asked after her mother; the +nurse noticed, and she drew her own inferences. + +"Now," she said, after she had smoothed the bed clothes and Effie's +hair, and given the pillow a touch or two to make it easier, "now, it +would be nice if you would say one little Bible verse for me, and then +go to sleep again." + +"A verse?" said Effie. + +"Yes, a little Bible verse." + +"Bible?" repeated Effie, in a puzzled tone. + +"Yes, dear,--a Bible verse. Don't you know one?" + +"No." + +"But you've seen a Bible, surely." + +Effie shook her head. "I don't know what you mean," she said. + +"Why, you poor lamb," cried Nurse Johnstone, "I do believe you haven't! +Well, and in a Christian country, too! If that ain't too bad. I'll tell +you a verse this minute, you poor little thing, and to-morrow we'll see +if you can't learn it." Then, very slowly and reverently, she repeated, +"Suffer the little children to come unto Me, and forbid them not, for +of such is the kingdom of Heaven." Twice she repeated the text, Effie +listening attentively to the strange, beautiful words; then she kissed +her for good-night, and moved away. Effie lay awake awhile saying the +verse over to herself. She had a good memory, and when she waked next +morning she found that she was able to say it quite perfectly. + +That happened to be a Thursday, and Thursday was always a special day in +Great Ormond Street, because it was that on which the Princess of Wales +made her weekly visit to the hospital. Effie had never heard of a +princess, and had no idea what all the happy bustle meant, as nurses and +patients made ready for the coming guest. Nothing could be cleaner than +the ward in its every-day condition, but all little possible touches +were given to make it look its very best. Fresh flowers were put into +the jars, the little ones able to sit up, were made very neat, each +white bed was duly smoothed, and every face had a look as though +something pleasant was going to happen. Children easily catch the +contagion of cheerfulness, and Effie was insensibly cheered by seeing +other people so. She lay on her pillow, observing everything, and +faintly smiling, when the door opened, and in came a slender, beautiful +lady, wrapped in soft silks and laces, with two or three children beside +her. All the nurses began to courtesy, and the children to dimple and +twinkle at the sight of her. She walked straight to the middle of the +ward, then, lifting something up that all might see it, she said in a +clear sweet voice: "Isn't there some one of these little girls who can +say a pretty Bible verse for me? If there is, she shall have this." + +What do you think "this" was? No other than a doll! A large, beautiful +creature of wax, with curly brown hair, blue eyes which could open and +shut, the reddest lips and pinkest cheeks ever seen, and a place, +somewhere about her middle, which, when pinched, made her utter a +squeaky sound like "Mama." This delightful doll had on a pretty blue +dress with a scarlet sash, and a pair of brown kid boots with real +buttons. She wore a little blue hat on top of her curly head, and +sported an actual pocket-handkerchief, three inches square, or so, on +which was written her name, "Dolly Varden." All the little ones stared +at her with dazzled eyes, but for a moment no one spoke. I suppose they +really were too surprised to speak, till suddenly a little hand went up, +and a small voice was heard from the far corner. The voice came from +Effie, too, and it was Effie herself who spoke. + +"I can say a verse," said the small voice. + +"Can you? That is nice. Say it, then," said the princess, turning toward +her. + +Then the small, piping voice repeated, very slowly and distinctly, this +text: "Suffer the little children to come unto--_Nurse Johnstone_--and +forbid them not, for of such is the kingdom of Heaven!" + +What a laugh rang through the ward then! The nurses laughed, the little +ones laughed too, though they did not distinctly understand at what. +Nurse Johnstone cried as well as laughed, and the princess was almost as +bad, for her eyes were dewy, though a smile was on her sweet lips as she +stepped forward and laid the doll in Effie's hands. Nurse Johnstone +eagerly explained: "I said 'Come unto Me,' and she thought it meant +_me_, poor little lamb, and it's a shame there should be such ignorance +in a Christian land!" All this time Effie was hugging her dolly in a +silent rapture. Her wish was granted, and wasn't it strange that it +should have been granted just _so_? + +[Illustration: She stepped forward and laid the doll in Effie's +hands.--PAGE 282.] + +Do you want to know more about little Effie? There isn't much more to +tell. All the kindness and care which she received in Great Ormond +Street could not make her well again. She had no constitution, the +doctors said, and no strength. She lived a good many weeks, however, +and they were the happiest weeks of her life, I think. Dolly Varden +was always beside her, and Dolly was clasped tight in her arms when +she finally fell asleep to waken up no more. Nurse Johnstone, who had +learned to love the little girl dearly, wanted to lay the doll in the +small coffin; but the other nurses said it would be a pity to do so. +There are so few dolls and so many children in the world, you know; so +in the end Dolly Varden was given to another little sick girl, who took +as much pleasure in her as Effie had done. + +So Effie's wish was granted, though only for a little while. It is very +often so with wishes which we make in this world. But I am very sure +that Effie doesn't miss the dolly or anything else in the happy world +to which she has gone, and that the wishes granted there are granted +fully and forever, and more freely and abundantly than we who stay +behind can even guess. + + +THE END. + + + + +SUSAN COOLIDGE'S POPULAR STORY BOOKS. + +SUSAN COOLIDGE has always possessed the affection of her young readers, +for it seems as if she had the happy instinct of planning stories that +each girl would like to act out in reality.--_The Critic._ + +Not even Miss Alcott apprehends child nature with finer sympathy, or +pictures its nobler traits with more skill.--_Boston Daily Advertiser._ + + =THE NEW YEAR'S BARGAIN.= A Christmas Story for Children. With + Illustrations by ADDIE LEDYARD. 16mo. $1.25. + + =WHAT KATY DID.= A Story. With Illustrations by ADDIE LEDYARD. + 16mo. $1.25. + + =WHAT KATY DID AT SCHOOL.= Being more about "What Katy Did." + With Illustrations. 16mo. $1.25. + + =MISCHIEF'S THANKSGIVING=, and other Stories. With Illustrations + by ADDIE LEDYARD. 16mo. $1.25. + + =NINE LITTLE GOSLINGS.= With Illustrations by J. A. MITCHELL. + 16mo. $1.25. + + =EYEBRIGHT.= A Story. With Illustrations. 16mo. $1.25. + + =CROSS PATCH.= With Illustrations. 16mo. $1.25. + + =A ROUND DOZEN.= With Illustrations. 16mo. $1.25. + + =A LITTLE COUNTRY GIRL.= With Illustrations. 16mo. $1.25. + + =WHAT KATY DID NEXT.= With Illustrations. 16mo. $1.25. + + =CLOVER.= A Sequel to the Katy Books. With Illustrations by + JESSIE MCDERMOTT. 16mo. $1.25. + + =JUST SIXTEEN.= With Illustrations. 16mo. $1.25. + + =IN THE HIGH VALLEY.= With Illustrations. 16mo. $1.25. + + =A GUERNSEY LILY=; or, How the Feud was Healed. A Story of the + Channel Islands. Profusely Illustrated. 16mo. $1.25. + + =THE BARBERRY BUSH=, and Seven Other Stories about Girls for + Girls. With Illustrations by JESSIE MCDERMOTT. 16mo. $1.25. + + =NOT QUITE EIGHTEEN.= A volume of Stories. With illustrations by + JESSIE MCDERMOTT. 16mo. $1.25. + +_Sold by all booksellers. Mailed, post-paid, on receipt of price, by the +publishers_, ROBERTS BROTHERS, BOSTON + + + + +[Illustration] + +IN THE HIGH VALLEY. + +Being the Fifth and last volume of the "Katy Did Series." With +illustrations by JESSIE MCDERMOTT. + +One volume, square 16mo, cloth. Price, $1.25. + +ROBERTS BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS, BOSTON. + + + + +A GUERNSEY LILY; OR, HOW THE FEUD WAS HEALED + +A Story for Girls and Boys. + +[Illustration] + +BY + +SUSAN COOLIDGE, + +Author of "What Katy Did," "Clover," "In the High Valley," etc. + +NEW EDITION. Square 16mo. ILLUSTRATED. Price, $1.25. + +ROBERTS BROTHERS, BOSTON. + + + + +_Messrs. Roberts Brothers' Publications._ + +SUSAN COOLIDGE'S POPULAR BOOKS. + +[Illustration] + + =THE BARBERRY BUSH.= And Seven Other Stories about Girls for Girls. + By Susan Coolidge. Illustrated by Jessie McDermott. 16mo. + Cloth. Uniform with "What Katy Did," etc. Price, $1.25. + +_For sale by all booksellers, and mailed, post-paid, on receipt of price +by the publishers._ + +ROBERTS BROTHERS, BOSTON, MASS. + + + + +Transcriber's Note: + + Punctuation, spelling, hyphenation and language has been retained as + it appears in the original publication except as follows: + + Page 8 + + the shoulder of his off horse _changed to_ + the shoulder of his horse + + Page 194 + + a "a boat;" men pulled off _changed to_ + "a boat;" men pulled off + + Page 270 + + it summer hot always, _changed to_ + in summer hot always, + + Page 283 + + dolly was clasped tight in her arms _changed to_ + Dolly was clasped tight in her arms + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Not Quite Eighteen, by Susan Coolidge + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NOT QUITE EIGHTEEN *** + +***** This file should be named 33927.txt or 33927.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/3/9/2/33927/ + +Produced by Suzanne Shell and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + +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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