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diff --git a/498-h/498-h.htm b/498-h/498-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..190b238 --- /dev/null +++ b/498-h/498-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,10906 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<html> +<HEAD> + +<META HTTP-EQUIV="Content-Type" CONTENT="text/html; charset=utf-8"> + +<TITLE> +Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm | Project Gutenberg +</TITLE> + +<STYLE TYPE="text/css"> +BODY { color: Black; + background: White; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-left: 10%; + font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; + text-align: justify } + +P {text-indent: 4% } + +P.noindent {text-indent: 0% } + +P.poem { text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; + font-size: small } + +P.letter { text-indent: 0%; + font-size: small ; + margin-left: 10% ; + margin-right: 10% } + +P.block { text-indent: 0%; + font-size: small ; + margin-left: 10% ; + margin-right: 10% } + +P.finis { text-align: center ; + text-indent: 0% ; + margin-left: 0% ; + margin-right: 0% } + +</STYLE> + +</HEAD> + +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 498 ***</div> + +<H1 ALIGN="center"> +Rebecca Of Sunnybrook Farm +</H1> + +<BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +by +</H3> + +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +Kate Douglas Wiggin +</H2> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +TO MY MOTHER +</H3> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + Her eyes as stars of Twilight fair;<BR> + Like Twilight's, too, her dusky hair;<BR> + But all things else about her drawn<BR> + From May-time and the cheerful Dawn;<BR> + A dancing Shape, an Image gay,<BR> + To haunt, to startle, and way-lay.<BR> +<BR> + Wordsworth.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +CONTENTS +</H2> + +<TABLE ALIGN="center" WIDTH="80%"> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">I. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap01">"WE ARE SEVEN"</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">II. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap02">REBECCA'S RELATIONS</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">III. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap03">A DIFFERENCE IN HEARTS</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">IV. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap04">REBECCA'S POINT OF VIEW</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">V. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap05">WISDOM'S WAYS</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">VI. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap06">SUNSHINE IN A SHADY PLACE</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">VII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap07">RIVERBORO SECRETS</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">VIII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap08">COLOR OF ROSE</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">IX. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap09">ASHES OF ROSES</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">X. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap10">RAINBOW BRIDGES</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XI. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap11">"THE STIRRING OF THE POWERS"</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap12">"SEE THE PALE MARTYR"</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XIII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap13">SNOW-WHITE; ROSE-RED</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XIV. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap14">MR. ALADDIN</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XV. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap15">THE BANQUET LAMP</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XVI. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap16">SEASONS OF GROWTH</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XVII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap17">GRAY DAYS AND GOLD</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XVIII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap18">REBECCA REPRESENTS THE FAMILY</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XIX. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap19">DEACON ISRAEL'S SUCCESSOR</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XX. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap20">A CHANGE OF HEART</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXI. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap21">THE SKY LINE WIDENS</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap22">CLOVER BLOSSOMS AND SUNFLOWERS</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXIII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap23">THE HILL DIFFICULTY</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXIV. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap24">ALADDIN RUBS HIS LAMP</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXV. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap25">ROSES OF JOY</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXVI. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap26">OVER THE TEACUPS</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXVII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap27">"THE VISION SPLENDID"</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXVIII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap28">"TH' INEVITABLE YOKE"</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXIX. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap29">MOTHER AND DAUGHTER</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXX. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap30">"GOOD-BY, SUNNYBROOK!"</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXXI. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap31">AUNT MIRANDA'S APOLOGY</A></TD> +</TR> + +</TABLE> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap01"></A> +<H1 ALIGN="center"> +REBECCA OF SUNNYBROOK FARM +</H1> + +<BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +I +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +"WE ARE SEVEN" +</H3> + +<P> +The old stage coach was rumbling along the dusty road that runs from +Maplewood to Riverboro. The day was as warm as midsummer, though it was +only the middle of May, and Mr. Jeremiah Cobb was favoring the horses +as much as possible, yet never losing sight of the fact that he carried +the mail. The hills were many, and the reins lay loosely in his hands +as he lolled back in his seat and extended one foot and leg luxuriously +over the dashboard. His brimmed hat of worn felt was well pulled over +his eyes, and he revolved a quid of tobacco in his left cheek. +</P> + +<P> +There was one passenger in the coach,—a small dark-haired person in a +glossy buff calico dress. She was so slender and so stiffly starched +that she slid from space to space on the leather cushions, though she +braced herself against the middle seat with her feet and extended her +cotton-gloved hands on each side, in order to maintain some sort of +balance. Whenever the wheels sank farther than usual into a rut, or +jolted suddenly over a stone, she bounded involuntarily into the air, +came down again, pushed back her funny little straw hat, and picked up +or settled more firmly a small pink sun shade, which seemed to be her +chief responsibility,—unless we except a bead purse, into which she +looked whenever the condition of the roads would permit, finding great +apparent satisfaction in that its precious contents neither disappeared +nor grew less. Mr. Cobb guessed nothing of these harassing details of +travel, his business being to carry people to their destinations, not, +necessarily, to make them comfortable on the way. Indeed he had +forgotten the very existence of this one unnoteworthy little passenger. +</P> + +<P> +When he was about to leave the post-office in Maplewood that morning, a +woman had alighted from a wagon, and coming up to him, inquired whether +this were the Riverboro stage, and if he were Mr. Cobb. Being answered +in the affirmative, she nodded to a child who was eagerly waiting for +the answer, and who ran towards her as if she feared to be a moment too +late. The child might have been ten or eleven years old perhaps, but +whatever the number of her summers, she had an air of being small for +her age. Her mother helped her into the stage coach, deposited a bundle +and a bouquet of lilacs beside her, superintended the "roping on" +behind of an old hair trunk, and finally paid the fare, counting out +the silver with great care. +</P> + +<P> +"I want you should take her to my sisters' in Riverboro," she said. "Do +you know Mirandy and Jane Sawyer? They live in the brick house." +</P> + +<P> +Lord bless your soul, he knew 'em as well as if he'd made 'em! +</P> + +<P> +"Well, she's going there, and they're expecting her. Will you keep an +eye on her, please? If she can get out anywhere and get with folks, or +get anybody in to keep her company, she'll do it. Good-by, Rebecca; try +not to get into any mischief, and sit quiet, so you'll look neat an' +nice when you get there. Don't be any trouble to Mr. Cobb.—You see, +she's kind of excited.—We came on the cars from Temperance yesterday, +slept all night at my cousin's, and drove from her house—eight miles +it is—this morning." +</P> + +<P> +"Good-by, mother, don't worry; you know it isn't as if I hadn't +traveled before." +</P> + +<P> +The woman gave a short sardonic laugh and said in an explanatory way to +Mr. Cobb, "She's been to Wareham and stayed over night; that isn't much +to be journey-proud on!" +</P> + +<P> +"It WAS TRAVELING, mother," said the child eagerly and willfully. "It +was leaving the farm, and putting up lunch in a basket, and a little +riding and a little steam cars, and we carried our nightgowns." +</P> + +<P> +"Don't tell the whole village about it, if we did," said the mother, +interrupting the reminiscences of this experienced voyager. "Haven't I +told you before," she whispered, in a last attempt at discipline, "that +you shouldn't talk about night gowns and stockings and—things like +that, in a loud tone of voice, and especially when there's men folks +round?" +</P> + +<P> +"I know, mother, I know, and I won't. All I want to say is"—here Mr. +Cobb gave a cluck, slapped the reins, and the horses started sedately +on their daily task—"all I want to say is that it is a journey +when"—the stage was really under way now and Rebecca had to put her +head out of the window over the door in order to finish her +sentence—"it IS a journey when you carry a nightgown!" +</P> + +<P> +The objectionable word, uttered in a high treble, floated back to the +offended ears of Mrs. Randall, who watched the stage out of sight, +gathered up her packages from the bench at the store door, and stepped +into the wagon that had been standing at the hitching-post. As she +turned the horse's head towards home she rose to her feet for a moment, +and shading her eyes with her hand, looked at a cloud of dust in the +dim distance. +</P> + +<P> +"Mirandy'll have her hands full, I guess," she said to herself; "but I +shouldn't wonder if it would be the making of Rebecca." +</P> + +<P> +All this had been half an hour ago, and the sun, the heat, the dust, +the contemplation of errands to be done in the great metropolis of +Milltown, had lulled Mr. Cobb's never active mind into complete +oblivion as to his promise of keeping an eye on Rebecca. +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly he heard a small voice above the rattle and rumble of the +wheels and the creaking of the harness. At first he thought it was a +cricket, a tree toad, or a bird, but having determined the direction +from which it came, he turned his head over his shoulder and saw a +small shape hanging as far out of the window as safety would allow. A +long black braid of hair swung with the motion of the coach; the child +held her hat in one hand and with the other made ineffectual attempts +to stab the driver with her microscopic sunshade. +</P> + +<P> +"Please let me speak!" she called. +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Cobb drew up the horses obediently. +</P> + +<P> +"Does it cost any more to ride up there with you?" she asked. "It's so +slippery and shiny down here, and the stage is so much too big for me, +that I rattle round in it till I'm 'most black and blue. And the +windows are so small I can only see pieces of things, and I've 'most +broken my neck stretching round to find out whether my trunk has fallen +off the back. It's my mother's trunk, and she's very choice of it." +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Cobb waited until this flow of conversation, or more properly +speaking this flood of criticism, had ceased, and then said jocularly:— +</P> + +<P> +"You can come up if you want to; there ain't no extry charge to sit +side o' me." Whereupon he helped her out, "boosted" her up to the front +seat, and resumed his own place. +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca sat down carefully, smoothing her dress under her with +painstaking precision, and putting her sunshade under its extended +folds between the driver and herself. This done she pushed back her +hat, pulled up her darned white cotton gloves, and said delightedly:— +</P> + +<P> +"Oh! this is better! This is like traveling! I am a real passenger now, +and down there I felt like our setting hen when we shut her up in a +coop. I hope we have a long, long ways to go?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh! we've only just started on it," Mr. Cobb responded genially; "it's +more 'n two hours." +</P> + +<P> +"Only two hours," she sighed "That will be half past one; mother will +be at cousin Ann's, the children at home will have had their dinner, +and Hannah cleared all away. I have some lunch, because mother said it +would be a bad beginning to get to the brick house hungry and have aunt +Mirandy have to get me something to eat the first thing.—It's a good +growing day, isn't it?" +</P> + +<P> +"It is, certain; too hot, most. Why don't you put up your parasol?" +</P> + +<P> +She extended her dress still farther over the article in question as +she said, "Oh dear no! I never put it up when the sun shines; pink +fades awfully, you know, and I only carry it to meetin' cloudy Sundays; +sometimes the sun comes out all of a sudden, and I have a dreadful time +covering it up; it's the dearest thing in life to me, but it's an awful +care." +</P> + +<P> +At this moment the thought gradually permeated Mr. Jeremiah Cobb's +slow-moving mind that the bird perched by his side was a bird of very +different feather from those to which he was accustomed in his daily +drives. He put the whip back in its socket, took his foot from the +dashboard, pushed his hat back, blew his quid of tobacco into the road, +and having thus cleared his mental decks for action, he took his first +good look at the passenger, a look which she met with a grave, +childlike stare of friendly curiosity. +</P> + +<P> +The buff calico was faded, but scrupulously clean, and starched within +an inch of its life. From the little standing ruffle at the neck the +child's slender throat rose very brown and thin, and the head looked +small to bear the weight of dark hair that hung in a thick braid to her +waist. She wore an odd little vizored cap of white leghorn, which may +either have been the latest thing in children's hats, or some bit of +ancient finery furbished up for the occasion. It was trimmed with a +twist of buff ribbon and a cluster of black and orange porcupine +quills, which hung or bristled stiffly over one ear, giving her the +quaintest and most unusual appearance. Her face was without color and +sharp in outline. As to features, she must have had the usual number, +though Mr. Cobb's attention never proceeded so far as nose, forehead, +or chin, being caught on the way and held fast by the eyes. Rebecca's +eyes were like faith,—"the substance of things hoped for, the evidence +of things not seen." Under her delicately etched brows they glowed like +two stars, their dancing lights half hidden in lustrous darkness. Their +glance was eager and full of interest, yet never satisfied; their +steadfast gaze was brilliant and mysterious, and had the effect of +looking directly through the obvious to something beyond, in the +object, in the landscape, in you. They had never been accounted for, +Rebecca's eyes. The school teacher and the minister at Temperance had +tried and failed; the young artist who came for the summer to sketch +the red barn, the ruined mill, and the bridge ended by giving up all +these local beauties and devoting herself to the face of a child,—a +small, plain face illuminated by a pair of eyes carrying such messages, +such suggestions, such hints of sleeping power and insight, that one +never tired of looking into their shining depths, nor of fancying that +what one saw there was the reflection of one's own thought. +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Cobb made none of these generalizations; his remark to his wife +that night was simply to the effect that whenever the child looked at +him she knocked him galley-west. +</P> + +<P> +"Miss Ross, a lady that paints, gave me the sunshade," said Rebecca, +when she had exchanged looks with Mr. Cobb and learned his face by +heart. "Did you notice the pinked double ruffle and the white tip and +handle? They're ivory. The handle is scarred, you see. That's because +Fanny sucked and chewed it in meeting when I wasn't looking. I've never +felt the same to Fanny since." +</P> + +<P> +"Is Fanny your sister?" +</P> + +<P> +"She's one of them." +</P> + +<P> +"How many are there of you?" +</P> + +<P> +"Seven. There's verses written about seven children:— +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + "'Quick was the little Maid's reply,<BR> + O master! we are seven!'<BR> +</P> + +<P> +I learned it to speak in school, but the scholars were hateful and +laughed. Hannah is the oldest, I come next, then John, then Jenny, then +Mark, then Fanny, then Mira." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, that IS a big family!" +</P> + +<P> +"Far too big, everybody says," replied Rebecca with an unexpected and +thoroughly grown-up candor that induced Mr. Cobb to murmur, "I swan!" +and insert more tobacco in his left cheek. +</P> + +<P> +"They're dear, but such a bother, and cost so much to feed, you see," +she rippled on. "Hannah and I haven't done anything but put babies to +bed at night and take them up in the morning for years and years. But +it's finished, that's one comfort, and we'll have a lovely time when +we're all grown up and the mortgage is paid off." +</P> + +<P> +"All finished? Oh, you mean you've come away?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, I mean they're all over and done with; our family 's finished. +Mother says so, and she always keeps her promises. There hasn't been +any since Mira, and she's three. She was born the day father died. Aunt +Miranda wanted Hannah to come to Riverboro instead of me, but mother +couldn't spare her; she takes hold of housework better than I do, +Hannah does. I told mother last night if there was likely to be any +more children while I was away I'd have to be sent for, for when +there's a baby it always takes Hannah and me both, for mother has the +cooking and the farm." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, you live on a farm, do ye? Where is it?—near to where you got on?" +</P> + +<P> +"Near? Why, it must be thousands of miles! We came from Temperance in +the cars. Then we drove a long ways to cousin Ann's and went to bed. +Then we got up and drove ever so far to Maplewood, where the stage was. +Our farm is away off from everywheres, but our school and meeting house +is at Temperance, and that's only two miles. Sitting up here with you +is most as good as climbing the meeting-house steeple. I know a boy +who's been up on our steeple. He said the people and cows looked like +flies. We haven't met any people yet, but I'm KIND of disappointed in +the cows;—they don't look so little as I hoped they would; still +(brightening) they don't look quite as big as if we were down side of +them, do they? Boys always do the nice splendid things, and girls can +only do the nasty dull ones that get left over. They can't climb so +high, or go so far, or stay out so late, or run so fast, or anything." +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Cobb wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and gasped. He had a +feeling that he was being hurried from peak to peak of a mountain range +without time to take a good breath in between. +</P> + +<P> +"I can't seem to locate your farm," he said, "though I've been to +Temperance and used to live up that way. What's your folks' name?" +</P> + +<P> +"Randall. My mother's name is Aurelia Randall; our names are Hannah +Lucy Randall, Rebecca Rowena Randall, John Halifax Randall, Jenny Lind +Randall, Marquis Randall, Fanny Ellsler Randall, and Miranda Randall. +Mother named half of us and father the other half, but we didn't come +out even, so they both thought it would be nice to name Mira after aunt +Miranda in Riverboro; they hoped it might do some good, but it didn't, +and now we call her Mira. We are all named after somebody in +particular. Hannah is Hannah at the Window Binding Shoes, and I am +taken out of Ivanhoe; John Halifax was a gentleman in a book; Mark is +after his uncle Marquis de Lafayette that died a twin. (Twins very +often don't live to grow up, and triplets almost never—did you know +that, Mr. Cobb?) We don't call him Marquis, only Mark. Jenny is named +for a singer and Fanny for a beautiful dancer, but mother says they're +both misfits, for Jenny can't carry a tune and Fanny's kind of +stiff-legged. Mother would like to call them Jane and Frances and give +up their middle names, but she says it wouldn't be fair to father. She +says we must always stand up for father, because everything was against +him, and he wouldn't have died if he hadn't had such bad luck. I think +that's all there is to tell about us," she finished seriously. +</P> + +<P> +"Land o' Liberty! I should think it was enough," ejaculated Mr. Cobb. +"There wa'n't many names left when your mother got through choosin'! +You've got a powerful good memory! I guess it ain't no trouble for you +to learn your lessons, is it?" +</P> + +<P> +"Not much; the trouble is to get the shoes to go and learn 'em. These +are spandy new I've got on, and they have to last six months. Mother +always says to save my shoes. There don't seem to be any way of saving +shoes but taking 'em off and going barefoot; but I can't do that in +Riverboro without shaming aunt Mirandy. I'm going to school right along +now when I'm living with aunt Mirandy, and in two years I'm going to +the seminary at Wareham; mother says it ought to be the making of me! +I'm going to be a painter like Miss Ross when I get through school. At +any rate, that's what <I>I</I> think I'm going to be. Mother thinks I'd +better teach." +</P> + +<P> +"Your farm ain't the old Hobbs place, is it?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, it's just Randall's Farm. At least that's what mother calls it. I +call it Sunnybrook Farm." +</P> + +<P> +"I guess it don't make no difference what you call it so long as you +know where it is," remarked Mr. Cobb sententiously. +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca turned the full light of her eyes upon him reproachfully, +almost severely, as she answered:— +</P> + +<P> +"Oh! don't say that, and be like all the rest! It does make a +difference what you call things. When I say Randall's Farm, do you see +how it looks?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, I can't say I do," responded Mr. Cobb uneasily. +</P> + +<P> +"Now when I say Sunnybrook Farm, what does it make you think of?" +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Cobb felt like a fish removed from his native element and left +panting on the sand; there was no evading the awful responsibility of a +reply, for Rebecca's eyes were searchlights, that pierced the fiction +of his brain and perceived the bald spot on the back of his head. +</P> + +<P> +"I s'pose there's a brook somewheres near it," he said timorously. +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca looked disappointed but not quite dis-heartened. "That's pretty +good," she said encouragingly. "You're warm but not hot; there's a +brook, but not a common brook. It has young trees and baby bushes on +each side of it, and it's a shallow chattering little brook with a +white sandy bottom and lots of little shiny pebbles. Whenever there's a +bit of sunshine the brook catches it, and it's always full of sparkles +the livelong day. Don't your stomach feel hollow? Mine doest I was so +'fraid I'd miss the stage I couldn't eat any breakfast." +</P> + +<P> +"You'd better have your lunch, then. I don't eat nothin' till I get to +Milltown; then I get a piece o' pie and cup o' coffee." +</P> + +<P> +"I wish I could see Milltown. I suppose it's bigger and grander even +than Wareham; more like Paris? Miss Ross told me about Paris; she +bought my pink sunshade there and my bead purse. You see how it opens +with a snap? I've twenty cents in it, and it's got to last three +months, for stamps and paper and ink. Mother says aunt Mirandy won't +want to buy things like those when she's feeding and clothing me and +paying for my school books." +</P> + +<P> +"Paris ain't no great," said Mr. Cobb disparagingly. "It's the dullest +place in the State o' Maine. I've druv there many a time." +</P> + +<P> +Again Rebecca was obliged to reprove Mr. Cobb, tacitly and quietly, but +none the less surely, though the reproof was dealt with one glance, +quickly sent and as quickly withdrawn. +</P> + +<P> +"Paris is the capital of France, and you have to go to it on a boat," +she said instructively. "It's in my geography, and it says: 'The French +are a gay and polite people, fond of dancing and light wines.' I asked +the teacher what light wines were, and he thought it was something like +new cider, or maybe ginger pop. I can see Paris as plain as day by just +shutting my eyes. The beautiful ladies are always gayly dancing around +with pink sunshades and bead purses, and the grand gentlemen are +politely dancing and drinking ginger pop. But you can see Milltown most +every day with your eyes wide open," Rebecca said wistfully. +</P> + +<P> +"Milltown ain't no great, neither," replied Mr. Cobb, with the air of +having visited all the cities of the earth and found them as naught. +"Now you watch me heave this newspaper right onto Mis' Brown's +doorstep." +</P> + +<P> +Piff! and the packet landed exactly as it was intended, on the corn +husk mat in front of the screen door. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, how splendid that was!" cried Rebecca with enthusiasm. "Just like +the knife thrower Mark saw at the circus. I wish there was a long, long +row of houses each with a corn husk mat and a screen door in the +middle, and a newspaper to throw on every one!" +</P> + +<P> +"I might fail on some of 'em, you know," said Mr. Cobb, beaming with +modest pride. "If your aunt Mirandy'll let you, I'll take you down to +Milltown some day this summer when the stage ain't full." +</P> + +<P> +A thrill of delicious excitement ran through Rebecca's frame, from her +new shoes up, up to the leghorn cap and down the black braid. She +pressed Mr. Cobb's knee ardently and said in a voice choking with tears +of joy and astonishment, "Oh, it can't be true, it can't; to think I +should see Milltown. It's like having a fairy godmother who asks you +your wish and then gives it to you! Did you ever read Cinderella, or +The Yellow Dwarf, or The Enchanted Frog, or The Fair One with Golden +Locks?" +</P> + +<P> +"No," said Mr. Cobb cautiously, after a moment's reflection. "I don't +seem to think I ever did read jest those partic'lar ones. Where'd you +get a chance at so much readin'?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I've read lots of books," answered Rebecca casually. "Father's and +Miss Ross's and all the dif'rent school teachers', and all in the +Sunday-school library. I've read The Lamplighter, and Scottish Chiefs, +and Ivanhoe, and The Heir of Redclyffe, and Cora, the Doctor's Wife, +and David Copperfield, and The Gold of Chickaree, and Plutarch's Lives, +and Thaddeus of Warsaw, and Pilgrim's Progress, and lots more.—What +have you read?" +</P> + +<P> +"I've never happened to read those partic'lar books; but land! I've +read a sight in my time! Nowadays I'm so drove I get along with the +Almanac, the Weekly Argus, and the Maine State Agriculturist.—There's +the river again; this is the last long hill, and when we get to the top +of it we'll see the chimbleys of Riverboro in the distance. 'T ain't +fur. I live 'bout half a mile beyond the brick house myself." +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca's hand stirred nervously in her lap and she moved in her seat. +"I didn't think I was going to be afraid," she said almost under her +breath; "but I guess I am, just a little mite—when you say it's coming +so near." +</P> + +<P> +"Would you go back?" asked Mr. Cobb curiously. +</P> + +<P> +She flashed him an intrepid look and then said proudly, "I'd never go +back—I might be frightened, but I'd be ashamed to run. Going to aunt +Mirandy's is like going down cellar in the dark. There might be ogres +and giants under the stairs,—but, as I tell Hannah, there MIGHT be +elves and fairies and enchanted frogs!—Is there a main street to the +village, like that in Wareham?" +</P> + +<P> +"I s'pose you might call it a main street, an' your aunt Sawyer lives +on it, but there ain't no stores nor mills, an' it's an awful one-horse +village! You have to go 'cross the river an' get on to our side if you +want to see anything goin' on." +</P> + +<P> +"I'm almost sorry," she sighed, "because it would be so grand to drive +down a real main street, sitting high up like this behind two splendid +horses, with my pink sunshade up, and everybody in town wondering who +the bunch of lilacs and the hair trunk belongs to. It would be just +like the beautiful lady in the parade. Last summer the circus came to +Temperance, and they had a procession in the morning. Mother let us all +walk in and wheel Mira in the baby carriage, because we couldn't afford +to go to the circus in the afternoon. And there were lovely horses and +animals in cages, and clowns on horseback; and at the very end came a +little red and gold chariot drawn by two ponies, and in it, sitting on +a velvet cushion, was the snake charmer, all dressed in satin and +spangles. She was so beautiful beyond compare, Mr. Cobb, that you had +to swallow lumps in your throat when you looked at her, and little cold +feelings crept up and down your back. Don't you know how I mean? Didn't +you ever see anybody that made you feel like that?" +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Cobb was more distinctly uncomfortable at this moment than he had +been at any one time during the eventful morning, but he evaded the +point dexterously by saying, "There ain't no harm, as I can see, in our +makin' the grand entry in the biggest style we can. I'll take the whip +out, set up straight, an' drive fast; you hold your bo'quet in your +lap, an' open your little red parasol, an' we'll jest make the natives +stare!" +</P> + +<P> +The child's face was radiant for a moment, but the glow faded just as +quickly as she said, "I forgot—mother put me inside, and maybe she'd +want me to be there when I got to aunt Mirandy's. Maybe I'd be more +genteel inside, and then I wouldn't have to be jumped down and my +clothes fly up, but could open the door and step down like a lady +passenger. Would you please stop a minute, Mr. Cobb, and let me change?" +</P> + +<P> +The stage driver good-naturedly pulled up his horses, lifted the +excited little creature down, opened the door, and helped her in, +putting the lilacs and the pink sunshade beside her. +</P> + +<P> +"We've had a great trip," he said, "and we've got real well acquainted, +haven't we?—You won't forget about Milltown?" +</P> + +<P> +"Never!" she exclaimed fervently; "and you're sure you won't, either?" +</P> + +<P> +"Never! Cross my heart!" vowed Mr. Cobb solemnly, as he remounted his +perch; and as the stage rumbled down the village street between the +green maples, those who looked from their windows saw a little brown +elf in buff calico sitting primly on the back seat holding a great +bouquet tightly in one hand and a pink parasol in the other. Had they +been farsighted enough they might have seen, when the stage turned into +the side dooryard of the old brick house, a calico yoke rising and +falling tempestuously over the beating heart beneath, the red color +coming and going in two pale cheeks, and a mist of tears swimming in +two brilliant dark eyes. +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca's journey had ended. +</P> + +<P> +"There's the stage turnin' into the Sawyer girls' dooryard," said Mrs. +Perkins to her husband. "That must be the niece from up Temperance way. +It seems they wrote to Aurelia and invited Hannah, the oldest, but +Aurelia said she could spare Rebecca better, if 't was all the same to +Mirandy 'n' Jane; so it's Rebecca that's come. She'll be good comp'ny +for our Emma Jane, but I don't believe they'll keep her three months! +She looks black as an Injun what I can see of her; black and kind of +up-an-comin'. They used to say that one o' the Randalls married a +Spanish woman, somebody that was teachin' music and languages at a +boardin' school. Lorenzo was dark complected, you remember, and this +child is, too. Well, I don't know as Spanish blood is any real +disgrace, not if it's a good ways back and the woman was respectable." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap02"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +II +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +REBECCA'S RELATIONS +</H3> + +<P> +They had been called the Sawyer girls when Miranda at eighteen, Jane at +twelve, and Aurelia at eight participated in the various activities of +village life; and when Riverboro fell into a habit of thought or +speech, it saw no reason for falling out of it, at any rate in the same +century. So although Miranda and Jane were between fifty and sixty at +the time this story opens, Riverboro still called them the Sawyer +girls. They were spinsters; but Aurelia, the youngest, had made what +she called a romantic marriage and what her sisters termed a mighty +poor speculation. "There's worse things than bein' old maids," they +said; whether they thought so is quite another matter. +</P> + +<P> +The element of romance in Aurelia's marriage existed chiefly in the +fact that Mr. L. D. M. Randall had a soul above farming or trading and +was a votary of the Muses. He taught the weekly singing-school (then a +feature of village life) in half a dozen neighboring towns, he played +the violin and "called off" at dances, or evoked rich harmonies from +church melodeons on Sundays. He taught certain uncouth lads, when they +were of an age to enter society, the intricacies of contra dances, or +the steps of the schottische and mazurka, and he was a marked figure in +all social assemblies, though conspicuously absent from town-meetings +and the purely masculine gatherings at the store or tavern or bridge. +</P> + +<P> +His hair was a little longer, his hands a little whiter, his shoes a +little thinner, his manner a trifle more polished, than that of his +soberer mates; indeed the only department of life in which he failed to +shine was the making of sufficient money to live upon. Luckily he had +no responsibilities; his father and his twin brother had died when he +was yet a boy, and his mother, whose only noteworthy achievement had +been the naming of her twin sons Marquis de Lafayette and Lorenzo de +Medici Randall, had supported herself and educated her child by making +coats up to the very day of her death. She was wont to say plaintively, +"I'm afraid the faculties was too much divided up between my twins. L. +D. M. is awful talented, but I guess M. D. L. would 'a' ben the +practical one if he'd 'a' lived." +</P> + +<P> +"L. D. M. was practical enough to get the richest girl in the village," +replied Mrs. Robinson. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," sighed his mother, "there it is again; if the twins could 'a' +married Aurelia Sawyer, 't would 'a' been all right. L. D. M. was +talented 'nough to GET Reely's money, but M. D. L. would 'a' ben +practical 'nough to have KEP' it." +</P> + +<P> +Aurelia's share of the modest Sawyer property had been put into one +thing after another by the handsome and luckless Lorenzo de Medici. He +had a graceful and poetic way of making an investment for each new son +and daughter that blessed their union. "A birthday present for our +child, Aurelia," he would say,—"a little nest-egg for the future;" but +Aurelia once remarked in a moment of bitterness that the hen never +lived that could sit on those eggs and hatch anything out of them. +</P> + +<P> +Miranda and Jane had virtually washed their hands of Aurelia when she +married Lorenzo de Medici Randall. Having exhausted the resources of +Riverboro and its immediate vicinity, the unfortunate couple had moved +on and on in a steadily decreasing scale of prosperity until they had +reached Temperance, where they had settled down and invited fate to do +its worst, an invitation which was promptly accepted. The maiden +sisters at home wrote to Aurelia two or three times a year, and sent +modest but serviceable presents to the children at Christmas, but +refused to assist L. D. M. with the regular expenses of his rapidly +growing family. His last investment, made shortly before the birth of +Miranda (named in a lively hope of favors which never came), was a +small farm two miles from Temperance. Aurelia managed this herself, and +so it proved a home at least, and a place for the unsuccessful Lorenzo +to die and to be buried from, a duty somewhat too long deferred, many +thought, which he performed on the day of Mira's birth. +</P> + +<P> +It was in this happy-go-lucky household that Rebecca had grown up. It +was just an ordinary family; two or three of the children were handsome +and the rest plain, three of them rather clever, two industrious, and +two commonplace and dull. Rebecca had her father's facility and had +been his aptest pupil. She "carried" the alto by ear, danced without +being taught, played the melodeon without knowing the notes. Her love +of books she inherited chiefly from her mother, who found it hard to +sweep or cook or sew when there was a novel in the house. Fortunately +books were scarce, or the children might sometimes have gone ragged and +hungry. +</P> + +<P> +But other forces had been at work in Rebecca, and the traits of unknown +forbears had been wrought into her fibre. Lorenzo de Medici was flabby +and boneless; Rebecca was a thing of fire and spirit: he lacked energy +and courage; Rebecca was plucky at two and dauntless at five. Mrs. +Randall and Hannah had no sense of humor; Rebecca possessed and showed +it as soon as she could walk and talk. +</P> + +<P> +She had not been able, however, to borrow her parents' virtues and +those of other generous ancestors and escape all the weaknesses in the +calendar. She had not her sister Hannah's patience or her brother +John's sturdy staying power. Her will was sometimes willfulness, and +the ease with which she did most things led her to be impatient of hard +tasks or long ones. But whatever else there was or was not, there was +freedom at Randall's farm. The children grew, worked, fought, ate what +and slept where they could; loved one another and their parents pretty +well, but with no tropical passion; and educated themselves for nine +months of the year, each one in his own way. +</P> + +<P> +As a result of this method Hannah, who could only have been developed +by forces applied from without, was painstaking, humdrum, and limited; +while Rebecca, who apparently needed nothing but space to develop in, +and a knowledge of terms in which to express herself, grew and grew and +grew, always from within outward. Her forces of one sort and another +had seemingly been set in motion when she was born; they needed no +daily spur, but moved of their own accord—towards what no one knew, +least of all Rebecca herself. The field for the exhibition of her +creative instinct was painfully small, and the only use she had made of +it as yet was to leave eggs out of the corn bread one day and milk +another, to see how it would turn out; to part Fanny's hair sometimes +in the middle, sometimes on the right, and sometimes on the left side; +and to play all sorts of fantastic pranks with the children, +occasionally bringing them to the table as fictitious or historical +characters found in her favorite books. Rebecca amused her mother and +her family generally, but she never was counted of serious importance, +and though considered "smart" and old for her age, she was never +thought superior in any way. Aurelia's experience of genius, as +exemplified in the deceased Lorenzo de Medici led her into a greater +admiration of plain, every-day common sense, a quality in which +Rebecca, it must be confessed, seemed sometimes painfully deficient. +</P> + +<P> +Hannah was her mother's favorite, so far as Aurelia could indulge +herself in such recreations as partiality. The parent who is obliged to +feed and clothe seven children on an income of fifteen dollars a month +seldom has time to discriminate carefully between the various members +of her brood, but Hannah at fourteen was at once companion and partner +in all her mother's problems. She it was who kept the house while +Aurelia busied herself in barn and field. Rebecca was capable of +certain set tasks, such as keeping the small children from killing +themselves and one another, feeding the poultry, picking up chips, +hulling strawberries, wiping dishes; but she was thought irresponsible, +and Aurelia, needing somebody to lean on (having never enjoyed that +luxury with the gifted Lorenzo), leaned on Hannah. Hannah showed the +result of this attitude somewhat, being a trifle careworn in face and +sharp in manner; but she was a self-contained, well-behaved, dependable +child, and that is the reason her aunts had invited her to Riverboro to +be a member of their family and participate in all the advantages of +their loftier position in the world. It was several years since Miranda +and Jane had seen the children, but they remembered with pleasure that +Hannah had not spoken a word during the interview, and it was for this +reason that they had asked for the pleasure of her company. Rebecca, on +the other hand, had dressed up the dog in John's clothes, and being +requested to get the three younger children ready for dinner, she had +held them under the pump and then proceeded to "smack" their hair flat +to their heads by vigorous brushing, bringing them to the table in such +a moist and hideous state of shininess that their mother was ashamed of +their appearance. Rebecca's own black locks were commonly pushed +smoothly off her forehead, but on this occasion she formed what I must +perforce call by its only name, a spit-curl, directly in the centre of +her brow, an ornament which she was allowed to wear a very short time, +only in fact till Hannah was able to call her mother's attention to it, +when she was sent into the next room to remove it and to come back +looking like a Christian. This command she interpreted somewhat too +literally perhaps, because she contrived in a space of two minutes an +extremely pious style of hairdressing, fully as effective if not as +startling as the first. These antics were solely the result of nervous +irritation, a mood born of Miss Miranda Sawyer's stiff, grim, and +martial attitude. The remembrance of Rebecca was so vivid that their +sister Aurelia's letter was something of a shock to the quiet, elderly +spinsters of the brick house; for it said that Hannah could not +possibly be spared for a few years yet, but that Rebecca would come as +soon as she could be made ready; that the offer was most thankfully +appreciated, and that the regular schooling and church privileges, as +well as the influence of the Sawyer home, would doubtless be "the +making of Rebecca." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap03"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +III +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +A DIFFERENCE IN HEARTS +</H3> + +<P> +"I don' know as I cal'lated to be the makin' of any child," Miranda had +said as she folded Aurelia's letter and laid it in the light-stand +drawer. "I s'posed, of course, Aurelia would send us the one we asked +for, but it's just like her to palm off that wild young one on somebody +else." +</P> + +<P> +"You remember we said that Rebecca or even Jenny might come, in case +Hannah couldn't," interposed Jane. +</P> + +<P> +"I know we did, but we hadn't any notion it would turn out that way," +grumbled Miranda. +</P> + +<P> +"She was a mite of a thing when we saw her three years ago," ventured +Jane; "she's had time to improve." +</P> + +<P> +"And time to grow worse!" +</P> + +<P> +"Won't it be kind of a privilege to put her on the right track?" asked +Jane timidly. +</P> + +<P> +"I don' know about the privilege part; it'll be considerable of a +chore, I guess. If her mother hain't got her on the right track by now, +she won't take to it herself all of a sudden." +</P> + +<P> +This depressed and depressing frame of mind had lasted until the +eventful day dawned on which Rebecca was to arrive. +</P> + +<P> +"If she makes as much work after she comes as she has before, we might +as well give up hope of ever gettin' any rest," sighed Miranda as she +hung the dish towels on the barberry bushes at the side door. +</P> + +<P> +"But we should have had to clean house, Rebecca or no Rebecca," urged +Jane; "and I can't see why you've scrubbed and washed and baked as you +have for that one child, nor why you've about bought out Watson's stock +of dry goods." +</P> + +<P> +"I know Aurelia if you don't," responded Miranda. "I've seen her house, +and I've seen that batch o' children, wearin' one another's clothes and +never carin' whether they had 'em on right sid' out or not; I know what +they've had to live and dress on, and so do you. That child will like +as not come here with a passel o' things borrowed from the rest o' the +family. She'll have Hannah's shoes and John's undershirts and Mark's +socks most likely. I suppose she never had a thimble on her finger in +her life, but she'll know the feelin' o' one before she's ben here many +days. I've bought a piece of unbleached muslin and a piece o' brown +gingham for her to make up; that'll keep her busy. Of course she won't +pick up anything after herself; she probably never see a duster, and +she'll be as hard to train into our ways as if she was a heathen." +</P> + +<P> +"She'll make a dif'rence," acknowledged Jane, "but she may turn out +more biddable 'n we think." +</P> + +<P> +"She'll mind when she's spoken to, biddable or not," remarked Miranda +with a shake of the last towel. +</P> + +<P> +Miranda Sawyer had a heart, of course, but she had never used it for +any other purpose than the pumping and circulating of blood. She was +just, conscientious, economical, industrious; a regular attendant at +church and Sunday-school, and a member of the State Missionary and +Bible societies, but in the presence of all these chilly virtues you +longed for one warm little fault, or lacking that, one likable failing, +something to make you sure she was thoroughly alive. She had never had +any education other than that of the neighborhood district school, for +her desires and ambitions had all pointed to the management of the +house, the farm, and the dairy. Jane, on the other hand, had gone to an +academy, and also to a boarding-school for young ladies; so had +Aurelia; and after all the years that had elapsed there was still a +slight difference in language and in manner between the elder and the +two younger sisters. +</P> + +<P> +Jane, too, had had the inestimable advantage of a sorrow; not the +natural grief at the loss of her aged father and mother, for she had +been content to let them go; but something far deeper. She was engaged +to marry young Tom Carter, who had nothing to marry on, it is true, but +who was sure to have, some time or other. Then the war broke out. Tom +enlisted at the first call. Up to that time Jane had loved him with a +quiet, friendly sort of affection, and had given her country a mild +emotion of the same sort. But the strife, the danger, the anxiety of +the time, set new currents of feeling in motion. Life became something +other than the three meals a day, the round of cooking, washing, +sewing, and church going. Personal gossip vanished from the village +conversation. Big things took the place of trifling ones,—sacred +sorrows of wives and mothers, pangs of fathers and husbands, +self-denials, sympathies, new desire to bear one another's burdens. Men +and women grew fast in those days of the nation's trouble and danger, +and Jane awoke from the vague dull dream she had hitherto called life +to new hopes, new fears, new purposes. Then after a year's anxiety, a +year when one never looked in the newspaper without dread and sickness +of suspense, came the telegram saying that Tom was wounded; and without +so much as asking Miranda's leave, she packed her trunk and started for +the South. She was in time to hold Tom's hand through hours of pain; to +show him for once the heart of a prim New England girl when it is +ablaze with love and grief; to put her arms about him so that he could +have a home to die in, and that was all;—all, but it served. +</P> + +<P> +It carried her through weary months of nursing—nursing of other +soldiers for Tom's dear sake; it sent her home a better woman; and +though she had never left Riverboro in all the years that lay between, +and had grown into the counterfeit presentment of her sister and of all +other thin, spare, New England spinsters, it was something of a +counterfeit, and underneath was still the faint echo of that wild +heart-beat of her girlhood. Having learned the trick of beating and +loving and suffering, the poor faithful heart persisted, although it +lived on memories and carried on its sentimental operations mostly in +secret. +</P> + +<P> +"You're soft, Jane," said Miranda once; "you allers was soft, and you +allers will be. If 't wa'n't for me keeping you stiffened up, I b'lieve +you'd leak out o' the house into the dooryard." +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +It was already past the appointed hour for Mr. Cobb and his coach to be +lumbering down the street. +</P> + +<P> +"The stage ought to be here," said Miranda, glancing nervously at the +tall clock for the twentieth time. "I guess everything 's done. I've +tacked up two thick towels back of her washstand and put a mat under +her slop-jar; but children are awful hard on furniture. I expect we +sha'n't know this house a year from now." +</P> + +<P> +Jane's frame of mind was naturally depressed and timorous, having been +affected by Miranda's gloomy presages of evil to come. The only +difference between the sisters in this matter was that while Miranda +only wondered how they could endure Rebecca, Jane had flashes of +inspiration in which she wondered how Rebecca would endure them. It was +in one of these flashes that she ran up the back stairs to put a vase +of apple blossoms and a red tomato-pincushion on Rebecca's bureau. +</P> + +<P> +The stage rumbled to the side door of the brick house, and Mr. Cobb +handed Rebecca out like a real lady passenger. She alighted with great +circumspection, put the bunch of faded flowers in her aunt Miranda's +hand, and received her salute; it could hardly be called a kiss without +injuring the fair name of that commodity. +</P> + +<P> +"You needn't 'a' bothered to bring flowers," remarked that gracious and +tactful lady; "the garden 's always full of 'em here when it comes +time." +</P> + +<P> +Jane then kissed Rebecca, giving a somewhat better imitation of the +real thing than her sister. "Put the trunk in the entry, Jeremiah, and +we'll get it carried upstairs this afternoon," she said. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll take it up for ye now, if ye say the word, girls." +</P> + +<P> +"No, no; don't leave the horses; somebody'll be comin' past, and we can +call 'em in." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, good-by, Rebecca; good-day, Mirandy 'n' Jane. You've got a +lively little girl there. I guess she'll be a first-rate company +keeper." +</P> + +<P> +Miss Sawyer shuddered openly at the adjective "lively" as applied to a +child; her belief being that though children might be seen, if +absolutely necessary, they certainly should never be heard if she could +help it. "We're not much used to noise, Jane and me," she remarked +acidly. +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Cobb saw that he had taken the wrong tack, but he was too unused to +argument to explain himself readily, so he drove away, trying to think +by what safer word than "lively" he might have described his +interesting little passenger. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll take you up and show you your room, Rebecca," Miss Miranda said. +"Shut the mosquito nettin' door tight behind you, so 's to keep the +flies out; it ain't flytime yet, but I want you to start right; take +your passel along with ye and then you won't have to come down for it; +always make your head save your heels. Rub your feet on that braided +rug; hang your hat and cape in the entry there as you go past." +</P> + +<P> +"It's my best hat," said Rebecca +</P> + +<P> +"Take it upstairs then and put it in the clothes-press; but I shouldn't +'a' thought you'd 'a' worn your best hat on the stage." +</P> + +<P> +"It's my only hat," explained Rebecca. "My every-day hat wasn't good +enough to bring. Fanny's going to finish it." +</P> + +<P> +"Lay your parasol in the entry closet." +</P> + +<P> +"Do you mind if I keep it in my room, please? It always seems safer." +</P> + +<P> +"There ain't any thieves hereabouts, and if there was, I guess they +wouldn't make for your sunshade, but come along. Remember to always go +up the back way; we don't use the front stairs on account o' the +carpet; take care o' the turn and don't ketch your foot; look to your +right and go in. When you've washed your face and hands and brushed +your hair you can come down, and by and by we'll unpack your trunk and +get you settled before supper. Ain't you got your dress on hind sid' +foremost?" +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca drew her chin down and looked at the row of smoked pearl +buttons running up and down the middle of her flat little chest. +</P> + +<P> +"Hind side foremost? Oh, I see! No, that's all right. If you have seven +children you can't keep buttonin' and unbuttonin' 'em all the +time—they have to do themselves. We're always buttoned up in front at +our house. Mira's only three, but she's buttoned up in front, too." +</P> + +<P> +Miranda said nothing as she closed the door, but her looks were at once +equivalent to and more eloquent than words. +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca stood perfectly still in the centre of the floor and looked +about her. There was a square of oilcloth in front of each article of +furniture and a drawn-in rug beside the single four poster, which was +covered with a fringed white dimity counterpane. +</P> + +<P> +Everything was as neat as wax, but the ceilings were much higher than +Rebecca was accustomed to. It was a north room, and the window, which +was long and narrow, looked out on the back buildings and the barn. +</P> + +<P> +It was not the room, which was far more comfortable than Rebecca's own +at the farm, nor the lack of view, nor yet the long journey, for she +was not conscious of weariness; it was not the fear of a strange place, +for she loved new places and courted new sensations; it was because of +some curious blending of uncomprehended emotions that Rebecca stood her +sunshade in the corner, tore off her best hat, flung it on the bureau +with the porcupine quills on the under side, and stripping down the +dimity spread, precipitated herself into the middle of the bed and +pulled the counterpane over her head. +</P> + +<P> +In a moment the door opened quietly. Knocking was a refinement quite +unknown in Riverboro, and if it had been heard of would never have been +wasted on a child. +</P> + +<P> +Miss Miranda entered, and as her eye wandered about the vacant room, it +fell upon a white and tempestuous ocean of counterpane, an ocean +breaking into strange movements of wave and crest and billow. +</P> + +<P> +"REBECCA!" +</P> + +<P> +The tone in which the word was voiced gave it all the effect of having +been shouted from the housetops. +</P> + +<P> +A dark ruffled head and two frightened eyes appeared above the dimity +spread. +</P> + +<P> +"What are you layin' on your good bed in the daytime for, messin' up +the feathers, and dirtyin' the pillers with your dusty boots?" +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca rose guiltily. There seemed no excuse to make. Her offense was +beyond explanation or apology. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm sorry, aunt Mirandy—something came over me; I don't know what." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, if it comes over you very soon again we'll have to find out what +'t is. Spread your bed up smooth this minute, for 'Bijah Flagg 's +bringin' your trunk upstairs, and I wouldn't let him see such a +cluttered-up room for anything; he'd tell it all over town." +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +When Mr. Cobb had put up his horses that night he carried a kitchen +chair to the side of his wife, who was sitting on the back porch. +</P> + +<P> +"I brought a little Randall girl down on the stage from Maplewood +to-day, mother. She's kin to the Sawyer girls an' is goin' to live with +'em," he said, as he sat down and began to whittle. "She's that +Aurelia's child, the one that ran away with Susan Randall's son just +before we come here to live." +</P> + +<P> +"How old a child?" +</P> + +<P> +"'Bout ten, or somewhere along there, an' small for her age; but land! +she might be a hundred to hear her talk! She kep' me jumpin' tryin' to +answer her! Of all the queer children I ever come across she's the +queerest. She ain't no beauty—her face is all eyes; but if she ever +grows up to them eyes an' fills out a little she'll make folks stare. +Land, mother! I wish 't you could 'a' heard her talk." +</P> + +<P> +"I don't see what she had to talk about, a child like that, to a +stranger," replied Mrs. Cobb. +</P> + +<P> +"Stranger or no stranger, 't wouldn't make no difference to her. She'd +talk to a pump or a grind-stun; she'd talk to herself ruther 'n keep +still." +</P> + +<P> +"What did she talk about?" +</P> + +<P> +"Blamed if I can repeat any of it. She kep' me so surprised I didn't +have my wits about me. She had a little pink sunshade—it kind o' +looked like a doll's amberill, 'n' she clung to it like a burr to a +woolen stockin'. I advised her to open it up—the sun was so hot; but +she said no, 't would fade, an' she tucked it under her dress. 'It's +the dearest thing in life to me,' says she, 'but it's a dreadful care.' +Them 's the very words, an' it's all the words I remember. 'It's the +dearest thing in life to me, but it's an awful care!' "—here Mr. Cobb +laughed aloud as he tipped his chair back against the side of the +house. "There was another thing, but I can't get it right exactly. She +was talkin' 'bout the circus parade an' the snake charmer in a gold +chariot, an' says she, 'She was so beautiful beyond compare, Mr. Cobb, +that it made you have lumps in your throat to look at her.' She'll be +comin' over to see you, mother, an' you can size her up for yourself. I +don' know how she'll git on with Mirandy Sawyer—poor little soul!" +</P> + +<P> +This doubt was more or less openly expressed in Riverboro, which, +however, had two opinions on the subject; one that it was a most +generous thing in the Sawyer girls to take one of Aurelia's children to +educate, the other that the education would be bought at a price wholly +out of proportion to its intrinsic value. +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca's first letters to her mother would seem to indicate that she +cordially coincided with the latter view of the situation. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap04"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +IV +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +REBECCA'S POINT OF VIEW +</H3> + +<P CLASS="letter"> + Dear Mother,—I am safely here. My dress was not much tumbled + and Aunt Jane helped me press it out. I like Mr. Cobb very + much. He chews but throws newspapers straight up to the + doors. I rode outside a little while, but got inside before I + got to Aunt Miranda's house. I did not want to, but thought + you would like it better. Miranda is such a long word that I + think I will say Aunt M. and Aunt J. in my Sunday letters. + Aunt J. has given me a dictionary to look up all the hard + words in. It takes a good deal of time and I am glad people + can talk without stoping to spell. It is much eesier to talk + than write and much more fun. The brick house looks just the + same as you have told us. The parler is splendid and gives + you creeps and chills when you look in the door. The + furnature is ellergant too, and all the rooms but there are + no good sitting-down places exsept in the kitchen. The same + cat is here but they do not save kittens when she has them, + and the cat is too old to play with. Hannah told me once you + ran away with father and I can see it would be nice. If Aunt + M. would run away I think I should like to live with Aunt J. + She does not hate me as bad as Aunt M. does. Tell Mark he can + have my paint box, but I should like him to keep the red cake + in case I come home again. I hope Hannah and John do not get + tired doing my chores. +<BR><BR> + Your afectionate friend<BR> + Rebecca.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> + P. S. Please give the piece of poetry to John because he + likes my poetry even when it is not very good. This piece is + not very good but it is true but I hope you won't mind what + is in it as you ran away. +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + This house is dark and dull and dreer<BR> + No light doth shine from far or near<BR> + Its like the tomb.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + And those of us who live herein<BR> + Are most as dead as serrafim<BR> + Though not as good.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + My gardian angel is asleep<BR> + At leest he doth no vigil keep<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + Ah! woe is me!<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + Then give me back my lonely farm<BR> + Where none alive did wish me harm<BR> +   Dear home of youth!<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> + P. S. again. I made the poetry like a piece in a book but + could not get it right at first. You see "tomb" and "good" do + not sound well together but I wanted to say "tomb" dreadfully + and as serrafim are always "good" I couldn't take that out. I + have made it over now. It does not say my thoughts as well + but think it is more right. Give the best one to John as he + keeps them in a box with his birds' eggs. This is the best + one. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="letter"> + SUNDAY THOUGHTS<BR> +<BR> + BY<BR> +<BR> + REBECCA ROWENA RANDALL<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + This house is dark and dull and drear<BR> + No light doth shine from far or near<BR> + Nor ever could.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + And those of us who live herein<BR> + Are most as dead as seraphim<BR> + Though not as good.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + My guardian angel is asleep<BR> + At least he doth no vigil keep<BR> + But far doth roam.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + Then give me back my lonely farm<BR> + Where none alive did wish me harm,<BR> + Dear childhood home!<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="letter"> + Dear Mother,—I am thrilling with unhappyness this morning. I + got that out of Cora The Doctor's Wife whose husband's mother + was very cross and unfealing to her like Aunt M. to me. I + wish Hannah had come instead of me for it was Hannah that was + wanted and she is better than I am and does not answer back + so quick. Are there any peaces of my buff calico. Aunt J. + wants enough to make a new waste button behind so I wont look + so outlandish. The stiles are quite pretty in Riverboro and + those at Meeting quite ellergant more so than in Temperance. +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + This town is stilish, gay and fair,<BR> + And full of wellthy riches rare,<BR> + But I would pillow on my arm<BR> + The thought of my sweet Brookside Farm.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> + School is pretty good. The Teacher can answer more questions + than the Temperance one but not so many as I can ask. I am + smarter than all the girls but one but not so smart as two + boys. Emma Jane can add and subtract in her head like a + streek of lightning and knows the speling book right through + but has no thoughts of any kind. She is in the Third Reader + but does not like stories in books. I am in the Sixth Reader + but just because I cannot say the seven multiplication Table + Miss Dearborn threttens to put me in the baby primer class + with Elijah and Elisha Simpson, little twins. +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + Sore is my heart and bent my stubborn pride,<BR> + With Lijah and with Lisha am I tied,<BR> + My soul recoyles like Cora Doctor's Wife,<BR> + Like her I feer I cannot bare this life.<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="letter"> + I am going to try for the speling prize but fear I cannot get + it. I would not care but wrong speling looks dreadful in + poetry. Last Sunday when I found seraphim in the dictionary I + was ashamed I had made it serrafim but seraphim is not a word + you can guess at like another long one outlandish in this + letter which spells itself. Miss Dearborn says use the words + you CAN spell and if you cant spell seraphim make angel do + but angels are not just the same as seraphims. Seraphims are + brighter whiter and have bigger wings and I think are older + and longer dead than angels which are just freshly dead and + after a long time in heaven around the great white throne + grow to be seraphims. +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> + I sew on brown gingham dresses every afternoon when Emma Jane + and the Simpsons are playing house or running on the Logs + when their mothers do not know it. Their mothers are afraid + they will drown and Aunt M. is afraid I will wet my clothes + so will not let me either. I can play from half past four to + supper and after supper a little bit and Saturday afternoons. + I am glad our cow has a calf and it is spotted. It is going + to be a good year for apples and hay so you and John will be + glad and we can pay a little more morgage. Miss Dearborn + asked us what is the object of edducation and I said the + object of mine was to help pay off the morgage. She told Aunt + M. and I had to sew extra for punishment because she says a + morgage is disgrace like stealing or smallpox and it will be + all over town that we have one on our farm. Emma Jane is not + morgaged nor Richard Carter nor Dr. Winship but the Simpsons + are. +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + Rise my soul, strain every nerve,<BR> + Thy morgage to remove,<BR> + Gain thy mother's heartfelt thanks<BR> + Thy family's grateful love.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> + Pronounce family QUICK or it won't sound right<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> + Your loving little friend<BR> + Rebecca<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="letter"> + Dear John,—You remember when we tide the new dog in the barn + how he bit the rope and howled I am just like him only the + brick house is the barn and I can not bite Aunt M. because I + must be grateful and edducation is going to be the making of + me and help you pay off the morgage when we grow up. + Your loving +<BR><BR> + Becky.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap05"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +V +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +WISDOM'S WAYS +</H3> + +<P> +The day of Rebecca's arrival had been Friday, and on the Monday +following she began her education at the school which was in Riverboro +Centre, about a mile distant. Miss Sawyer borrowed a neighbor's horse +and wagon and drove her to the schoolhouse, interviewing the teacher, +Miss Dearborn, arranging for books, and generally starting the child on +the path that was to lead to boundless knowledge. Miss Dearborn, it may +be said in passing, had had no special preparation in the art of +teaching. It came to her naturally, so her family said, and perhaps for +this reason she, like Tom Tulliver's clergyman tutor, "set about it +with that uniformity of method and independence of circumstances which +distinguish the actions of animals understood to be under the immediate +teaching of Nature." You remember the beaver which a naturalist tells +us "busied himself as earnestly in constructing a dam in a room up +three pair of stairs in London as if he had been laying his foundation +in a lake in Upper Canada. It was his function to build, the absence of +water or of possible progeny was an accident for which he was not +accountable." In the same manner did Miss Dearborn lay what she fondly +imagined to be foundations in the infant mind. +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca walked to school after the first morning. She loved this part +of the day's programme. When the dew was not too heavy and the weather +was fair there was a short cut through the woods. She turned off the +main road, crept through uncle Josh Woodman's bars, waved away Mrs. +Carter's cows, trod the short grass of the pasture, with its well-worn +path running through gardens of buttercups and white-weed, and groves +of ivory leaves and sweet fern. She descended a little hill, jumped +from stone to stone across a woodland brook, startling the drowsy +frogs, who were always winking and blinking in the morning sun. Then +came the "woodsy bit," with her feet pressing the slippery carpet of +brown pine needles; the "woodsy bit" so full of dewy morning, +surprises,—fungous growths of brilliant orange and crimson springing +up around the stumps of dead trees, beautiful things born in a single +night; and now and then the miracle of a little clump of waxen Indian +pipes, seen just quickly enough to be saved from her careless tread. +Then she climbed a stile, went through a grassy meadow, slid under +another pair of bars, and came out into the road again having gained +nearly half a mile. +</P> + +<P> +How delicious it all was! Rebecca clasped her Quackenbos's Grammar and +Greenleaf's Arithmetic with a joyful sense of knowing her lessons. Her +dinner pail swung from her right hand, and she had a blissful +consciousness of the two soda biscuits spread with butter and syrup, +the baked cup-custard, the doughnut, and the square of hard +gingerbread. Sometimes she said whatever "piece" she was going to speak +on the next Friday afternoon. +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + "A soldier of the Legion lay dying in Algiers,<BR> + There was lack of woman's nursing, there was dearth of<BR> + woman's tears."<BR> +</P> + +<P> +How she loved the swing and the sentiment of it! How her young voice +quivered whenever she came to the refrain:— +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + "But we'll meet no more at Bingen, dear Bingen on the Rhine."<BR> +</P> + +<P> +It always sounded beautiful in her ears, as she sent her tearful little +treble into the clear morning air. Another early favorite (for we must +remember that Rebecca's only knowledge of the great world of poetry +consisted of the selections in vogue in school readers) was:— +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + "Woodman, spare that tree!<BR> + Touch not a single bough!<BR> + In youth it sheltered me,<BR> + And I'll protect it now."<BR> +</P> + +<P> +When Emma Jane Perkins walked through the "short cut" with her, the two +children used to render this with appropriate dramatic action. Emma +Jane always chose to be the woodman because she had nothing to do but +raise on high an imaginary axe. On the one occasion when she essayed +the part of the tree's romantic protector, she represented herself as +feeling "so awful foolish" that she refused to undertake it again, much +to the secret delight of Rebecca, who found the woodman's role much too +tame for her vaulting ambition. She reveled in the impassioned appeal +of the poet, and implored the ruthless woodman to be as brutal as +possible with the axe, so that she might properly put greater spirit +into her lines. One morning, feeling more frisky than usual, she fell +upon her knees and wept in the woodman's petticoat. Curiously enough, +her sense of proportion rejected this as soon as it was done. +</P> + +<P> +"That wasn't right, it was silly, Emma Jane; but I'll tell you where it +might come in—in Give me Three Grains of Corn. You be the mother, and +I'll be the famishing Irish child. For pity's sake put the axe down; +you are not the woodman any longer!" +</P> + +<P> +"What'll I do with my hands, then?" asked Emma Jane. +</P> + +<P> +"Whatever you like," Rebecca answered wearily; "you're just a +mother—that's all. What does YOUR mother do with her hands? Now here +goes! +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + "'Give me three grains of corn, mother,<BR> + Only three grains of corn,<BR> + 'T will keep the little life I have<BR> + Till the coming of the morn.'"<BR> +</P> + +<P> +This sort of thing made Emma Jane nervous and fidgety, but she was +Rebecca's slave and hugged her chains, no matter how uncomfortable they +made her. +</P> + +<P> +At the last pair of bars the two girls were sometimes met by a +detachment of the Simpson children, who lived in a black house with a +red door and a red barn behind, on the Blueberry Plains road. Rebecca +felt an interest in the Simpsons from the first, because there were so +many of them and they were so patched and darned, just like her own +brood at the home farm. +</P> + +<P> +The little schoolhouse with its flagpole on top and its two doors in +front, one for boys and the other for girls, stood on the crest of a +hill, with rolling fields and meadows on one side, a stretch of pine +woods on the other, and the river glinting and sparkling in the +distance. It boasted no attractions within. All was as bare and ugly +and uncomfortable as it well could be, for the villages along the river +expended so much money in repairing and rebuilding bridges that they +were obliged to be very economical in school privileges. The teacher's +desk and chair stood on a platform in one corner; there was an uncouth +stove, never blackened oftener than once a year, a map of the United +States, two black-boards, a ten-quart tin pail of water and +long-handled dipper on a corner shelf, and wooden desks and benches for +the scholars, who only numbered twenty in Rebecca's time. The seats +were higher in the back of the room, and the more advanced and +longer-legged pupils sat there, the position being greatly to be +envied, as they were at once nearer to the windows and farther from the +teacher. +</P> + +<P> +There were classes of a sort, although nobody, broadly speaking, +studied the same book with anybody else, or had arrived at the same +degree of proficiency in any one branch of learning. Rebecca in +particular was so difficult to classify that Miss Dearborn at the end +of a fortnight gave up the attempt altogether. She read with Dick +Carter and Living Perkins, who were fitting for the academy; recited +arithmetic with lisping little Thuthan Thimpthon; geography with Emma +Jane Perkins, and grammar after school hours to Miss Dearborn alone. +Full to the brim as she was of clever thoughts and quaint fancies, she +made at first but a poor hand at composition. The labor of writing and +spelling, with the added difficulties of punctuation and capitals, +interfered sadly with the free expression of ideas. She took history +with Alice Robinson's class, which was attacking the subject of the +Revolution, while Rebecca was bidden to begin with the discovery of +America. In a week she had mastered the course of events up to the +Revolution, and in ten days had arrived at Yorktown, where the class +had apparently established summer quarters. Then finding that extra +effort would only result in her reciting with the oldest Simpson boy, +she deliberately held herself back, for wisdom's ways were not those of +pleasantness nor her paths those of peace if one were compelled to +tread them in the company of Seesaw Simpson. Samuel Simpson was +generally called Seesaw, because of his difficulty in making up his +mind. Whether it were a question of fact, of spelling, or of date, of +going swimming or fishing, of choosing a book in the Sunday-school +library or a stick of candy at the village store, he had no sooner +determined on one plan of action than his wish fondly reverted to the +opposite one. Seesaw was pale, flaxen haired, blue eyed, round +shouldered, and given to stammering when nervous. Perhaps because of +his very weakness Rebecca's decision of character had a fascination for +him, and although she snubbed him to the verge of madness, he could +never keep his eyes away from her. The force with which she tied her +shoe when the lacing came undone, the flirt over shoulder she gave her +black braid when she was excited or warm, her manner of studying,—book +on desk, arms folded, eyes fixed on the opposite wall,—all had an +abiding charm for Seesaw Simpson. When, having obtained permission, she +walked to the water pail in the corner and drank from the dipper, +unseen forces dragged Seesaw from his seat to go and drink after her. +It was not only that there was something akin to association and +intimacy in drinking next, but there was the fearful joy of meeting her +in transit and receiving a cold and disdainful look from her wonderful +eyes. +</P> + +<P> +On a certain warm day in summer Rebecca's thirst exceeded the bounds of +propriety. When she asked a third time for permission to quench it at +the common fountain Miss Dearborn nodded "yes," but lifted her eyebrows +unpleasantly as Rebecca neared the desk. As she replaced the dipper +Seesaw promptly raised his hand, and Miss Dearborn indicated a weary +affirmative. +</P> + +<P> +"What is the matter with you, Rebecca?" she asked. +</P> + +<P> +"I had salt mackerel for breakfast," answered Rebecca. +</P> + +<P> +There seemed nothing humorous about this reply, which was merely the +statement of a fact, but an irrepressible titter ran through the +school. Miss Dearborn did not enjoy jokes neither made nor understood +by herself, and her face flushed. +</P> + +<P> +"I think you had better stand by the pail for five minutes, Rebecca; it +may help you to control your thirst." +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca's heart fluttered. She to stand in the corner by the water pail +and be stared at by all the scholars! She unconsciously made a gesture +of angry dissent and moved a step nearer her seat, but was arrested by +Miss Dearborn's command in a still firmer voice. +</P> + +<P> +"Stand by the pail, Rebecca! Samuel, how many times have you asked for +water to-day?" +</P> + +<P> +"This is the f-f-fourth." +</P> + +<P> +"Don't touch the dipper, please. The school has done nothing but drink +this afternoon; it has had no time whatever to study. I suppose you had +something salt for breakfast, Samuel?" queried Miss Dearborn with +sarcasm. +</P> + +<P> +"I had m-m-mackerel, j-just like Reb-b-becca." (Irrepressible giggles +by the school.) +</P> + +<P> +"I judged so. Stand by the other side of the pail, Samuel." +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca's head was bowed with shame and wrath. Life looked too black a +thing to be endured. The punishment was bad enough, but to be coupled +in correction with Seesaw Simpson was beyond human endurance. +</P> + +<P> +Singing was the last exercise in the afternoon, and Minnie Smellie +chose Shall we Gather at the River? It was a baleful choice and seemed +to hold some secret and subtle association with the situation and +general progress of events; or at any rate there was apparently some +obscure reason for the energy and vim with which the scholars shouted +the choral invitation again and again:— +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + "Shall we gather at the river,<BR> + The beautiful, the beautiful river?"<BR> +</P> + +<P> +Miss Dearborn stole a look at Rebecca's bent head and was frightened. +The child's face was pale save for two red spots glowing on her cheeks. +Tears hung on her lashes; her breath came and went quickly, and the +hand that held her pocket handkerchief trembled like a leaf. +</P> + +<P> +"You may go to your seat, Rebecca," said Miss Dearborn at the end of +the first song. "Samuel, stay where you are till the close of school. +And let me tell you, scholars, that I asked Rebecca to stand by the +pail only to break up this habit of incessant drinking, which is +nothing but empty-mindedness and desire to walk to and fro over the +floor. Every time Rebecca has asked for a drink to-day the whole school +has gone to the pail one after another. She is really thirsty, and I +dare say I ought to have punished you for following her example, not +her for setting it. What shall we sing now, Alice?" +</P> + +<P> +"The Old Oaken Bucket, please." +</P> + +<P> +"Think of something dry, Alice, and change the subject. Yes, The Star +Spangled Banner if you like, or anything else." +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca sank into her seat and pulled the singing book from her desk. +Miss Dearborn's public explanation had shifted some of the weight from +her heart, and she felt a trifle raised in her self-esteem. +</P> + +<P> +Under cover of the general relaxation of singing, votive offerings of +respectful sympathy began to make their appearance at her shrine. +Living Perkins, who could not sing, dropped a piece of maple sugar in +her lap as he passed her on his way to the blackboard to draw the map +of Maine. Alice Robinson rolled a perfectly new slate pencil over the +floor with her foot until it reached Rebecca's place, while her +seat-mate, Emma Jane, had made up a little mound of paper balls and +labeled them "Bullets for you know who." +</P> + +<P> +Altogether existence grew brighter, and when she was left alone with +the teacher for her grammar lesson she had nearly recovered her +equanimity, which was more than Miss Dearborn had. The last clattering +foot had echoed through the hall, Seesaw's backward glance of penitence +had been met and answered defiantly by one of cold disdain. +</P> + +<P> +"Rebecca, I am afraid I punished you more than I meant," said Miss +Dearborn, who was only eighteen herself, and in her year of teaching +country schools had never encountered a child like Rebecca. +</P> + +<P> +"I hadn't missed a question this whole day, nor whispered either," +quavered the culprit; "and I don't think I ought to be shamed just for +drinking." +</P> + +<P> +"You started all the others, or it seemed as if you did. Whatever you +do they all do, whether you laugh, or miss, or write notes, or ask to +leave the room, or drink; and it must be stopped." +</P> + +<P> +"Sam Simpson is a copycoat!" stormed Rebecca "I wouldn't have minded +standing in the corner alone—that is, not so very much; but I couldn't +bear standing with him." +</P> + +<P> +"I saw that you couldn't, and that's the reason I told you to take your +seat, and left him in the corner. Remember that you are a stranger in +the place, and they take more notice of what you do, so you must be +careful. Now let's have our conjugations. Give me the verb 'to be,' +potential mood, past perfect tense." +</P> + +<PRE> + "I might have been "We might have been + Thou mightst have been You might have been + He might have been They might have been." +</PRE> + +<P> +"Give me an example, please." +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + "I might have been glad<BR> + Thou mightst have been glad<BR> + He, she, or it might have been glad."<BR> +</P> + +<P> +"'He' or 'she' might have been glad because they are masculine and +feminine, but could 'it' have been glad?" asked Miss Dearborn, who was +very fond of splitting hairs. +</P> + +<P> +"Why not?" asked Rebecca +</P> + +<P> +"Because 'it' is neuter gender." +</P> + +<P> +"Couldn't we say, 'The kitten might have been glad if it had known it +was not going to be drowned'?" +</P> + +<P> +"Ye—es," Miss Dearborn answered hesitatingly, never very sure of +herself under Rebecca's fire; "but though we often speak of a baby, a +chicken, or a kitten as 'it,' they are really masculine or feminine +gender, not neuter." +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca reflected a long moment and then asked, "Is a hollyhock neuter?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh yes, of course it is, Rebecca" +</P> + +<P> +"Well, couldn't we say, 'The hollyhock might have been glad to see the +rain, but there was a weak little hollyhock bud growing out of its +stalk and it was afraid that that might be hurt by the storm; so the +big hollyhock was kind of afraid, instead of being real glad'?" +</P> + +<P> +Miss Dearborn looked puzzled as she answered, "Of course, Rebecca, +hollyhocks could not be sorry, or glad, or afraid, really." +</P> + +<P> +"We can't tell, I s'pose," replied the child; "but <I>I</I> think they are, +anyway. Now what shall I say?" +</P> + +<P> +"The subjunctive mood, past perfect tense of the verb 'to know.'" +</P> + +<PRE> + "If I had known "If we had known + If thou hadst known If you had known + If he had known If they had known. +</PRE> + +<P> +"Oh, it is the saddest tense," sighed Rebecca with a little break in +her voice; "nothing but IFS, IFS, IFS! And it makes you feel that if +they only HAD known, things might have been better!" +</P> + +<P> +Miss Dearborn had not thought of it before, but on reflection she +believed the subjunctive mood was a "sad" one and "if" rather a sorry +"part of speech." +</P> + +<P> +"Give me some more examples of the subjunctive, Rebecca, and that will +do for this afternoon," she said. +</P> + +<P> +"If I had not loved mackerel I should not have been thirsty;" said +Rebecca with an April smile, as she closed her grammar. "If thou hadst +loved me truly thou wouldst not have stood me up in the corner. If +Samuel had not loved wickedness he would not have followed me to the +water pail." +</P> + +<P> +"And if Rebecca had loved the rules of the school she would have +controlled her thirst," finished Miss Dearborn with a kiss, and the two +parted friends. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap06"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +VI +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +SUNSHINE IN A SHADY PLACE +</H3> + +<P> +The little schoolhouse on the hill had its moments of triumph as well +as its scenes of tribulation, but it was fortunate that Rebecca had her +books and her new acquaintances to keep her interested and occupied, or +life would have gone heavily with her that first summer in Riverboro. +She tried to like her aunt Miranda (the idea of loving her had been +given up at the moment of meeting), but failed ignominiously in the +attempt. She was a very faulty and passionately human child, with no +aspirations towards being an angel of the house, but she had a sense of +duty and a desire to be good,—respectably, decently good. Whenever she +fell below this self-imposed standard she was miserable. She did not +like to be under her aunt's roof, eating bread, wearing clothes, and +studying books provided by her, and dislike her so heartily all the +time. She felt instinctively that this was wrong and mean, and whenever +the feeling of remorse was strong within her she made a desperate +effort to please her grim and difficult relative. But how could she +succeed when she was never herself in her aunt Miranda's presence? The +searching look of the eyes, the sharp voice, the hard knotty fingers, +the thin straight lips, the long silences, the "front-piece" that +didn't match her hair, the very obvious "parting" that seemed sewed in +with linen thread on black net,—there was not a single item that +appealed to Rebecca. There are certain narrow, unimaginative, and +autocratic old people who seem to call out the most mischievous, and +sometimes the worst traits in children. Miss Miranda, had she lived in +a populous neighborhood, would have had her doorbell pulled, her gate +tied up, or "dirt traps" set in her garden paths. The Simpson twins +stood in such awe of her that they could not be persuaded to come to +the side door even when Miss Jane held gingerbread cookies in her +outstretched hands. +</P> + +<P> +It is needless to say that Rebecca irritated her aunt with every breath +she drew. She continually forgot and started up the front stairs +because it was the shortest route to her bedroom; she left the dipper +on the kitchen shelf instead of hanging it up over the pail; she sat in +the chair the cat liked best; she was willing to go on errands, but +often forgot what she was sent for; she left the screen doors ajar, so +that flies came in; her tongue was ever in motion; she sang or whistled +when she was picking up chips; she was always messing with flowers, +putting them in vases, pinning them on her dress, and sticking them in +her hat; finally she was an everlasting reminder of her foolish, +worthless father, whose handsome face and engaging manner had so +deceived Aurelia, and perhaps, if the facts were known, others besides +Aurelia. The Randalls were aliens. They had not been born in Riverboro +nor even in York County. Miranda would have allowed, on compulsion, +that in the nature of things a large number of persons must necessarily +be born outside this sacred precinct; but she had her opinion of them, +and it was not a flattering one. Now if Hannah had come—Hannah took +after the other side of the house; she was "all Sawyer." (Poor Hannah! +that was true!) Hannah spoke only when spoken to, instead of first, +last, and all the time; Hannah at fourteen was a member of the church; +Hannah liked to knit; Hannah was, probably, or would have been, a +pattern of all the smaller virtues; instead of which here was this +black-haired gypsy, with eyes as big as cartwheels, installed as a +member of the household. +</P> + +<P> +What sunshine in a shady place was aunt Jane to Rebecca! Aunt Jane with +her quiet voice, her understanding eyes, her ready excuses, in these +first difficult weeks, when the impulsive little stranger was trying to +settle down into the "brick house ways." She did learn them, in part, +and by degrees, and the constant fitting of herself to these new and +difficult standards of conduct seemed to make her older than ever for +her years. +</P> + +<P> +The child took her sewing and sat beside aunt Jane in the kitchen while +aunt Miranda had the post of observation at the sitting-room window. +Sometimes they would work on the side porch where the clematis and +woodbine shaded them from the hot sun. To Rebecca the lengths of brown +gingham were interminable. She made hard work of sewing, broke the +thread, dropped her thimble into the syringa bushes, pricked her +finger, wiped the perspiration from her forehead, could not match the +checks, puckered the seams. She polished her needles to nothing, +pushing them in and out of the emery strawberry, but they always +squeaked. Still aunt Jane's patience held good, and some small measure +of skill was creeping into Rebecca's fingers, fingers that held pencil, +paint brush, and pen so cleverly and were so clumsy with the dainty +little needle. +</P> + +<P> +When the first brown gingham frock was completed, the child seized what +she thought an opportune moment and asked her aunt Miranda if she might +have another color for the next one. +</P> + +<P> +"I bought a whole piece of the brown," said Miranda laconically. +"That'll give you two more dresses, with plenty for new sleeves, and to +patch and let down with, an' be more economical." +</P> + +<P> +"I know. But Mr. Watson says he'll take back part of it, and let us +have pink and blue for the same price." +</P> + +<P> +"Did you ask him?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes'm." +</P> + +<P> +"It was none o' your business." +</P> + +<P> +"I was helping Emma Jane choose aprons, and didn't think you'd mind +which color I had. Pink keeps clean just as nice as brown, and Mr. +Watson says it'll boil without fading." +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. Watson 's a splendid judge of washing, I guess. I don't approve of +children being rigged out in fancy colors, but I'll see what your aunt +Jane thinks." +</P> + +<P> +"I think it would be all right to let Rebecca have one pink and one +blue gingham," said Jane. "A child gets tired of sewing on one color. +It's only natural she should long for a change; besides she'd look like +a charity child always wearing the same brown with a white apron. And +it's dreadful unbecoming to her!" +</P> + +<P> +"'Handsome is as handsome does,' say I. Rebecca never'll come to grief +along of her beauty, that's certain, and there's no use in humoring her +to think about her looks. I believe she's vain as a peacock now, +without anything to be vain of." +</P> + +<P> +"She's young and attracted to bright things—that's all. I remember +well enough how I felt at her age." +</P> + +<P> +"You was considerable of a fool at her age, Jane." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, I was, thank the Lord! I only wish I'd known how to take a little +of my foolishness along with me, as some folks do, to brighten my +declining years." +</P> + +<P> +There finally was a pink gingham, and when it was nicely finished, aunt +Jane gave Rebecca a delightful surprise. She showed her how to make a +pretty trimming of narrow white linen tape, by folding it in pointed +shapes and sewing it down very flat with neat little stitches. +</P> + +<P> +"It'll be good fancy work for you, Rebecca; for your aunt Miranda won't +like to see you always reading in the long winter evenings. Now if you +think you can baste two rows of white tape round the bottom of your +pink skirt and keep it straight by the checks, I'll stitch them on for +you and trim the waist and sleeves with pointed tape-trimming, so the +dress'll be real pretty for second best." +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca's joy knew no bounds. "I'll baste like a house afire!" she +exclaimed. "It's a thousand yards round that skirt, as well I know, +having hemmed it; but I could sew pretty trimming on if it was from +here to Milltown. Oh! do you think aunt Mirandy'll ever let me go to +Milltown with Mr. Cobb? He's asked me again, you know; but one Saturday +I had to pick strawberries, and another it rained, and I don't think +she really approves of my going. It's TWENTY-NINE minutes past four, +aunt Jane, and Alice Robinson has been sitting under the currant bushes +for a long time waiting for me. Can I go and play?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, you may go, and you'd better run as far as you can out behind the +barn, so 't your noise won't distract your aunt Mirandy. I see Susan +Simpson and the twins and Emma Jane Perkins hiding behind the fence." +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca leaped off the porch, snatched Alice Robinson from under the +currant bushes, and, what was much more difficult, succeeded, by means +of a complicated system of signals, in getting Emma Jane away from the +Simpson party and giving them the slip altogether. They were much too +small for certain pleasurable activities planned for that afternoon; +but they were not to be despised, for they had the most fascinating +dooryard in the village. In it, in bewildering confusion, were old +sleighs, pungs, horse rakes, hogsheads, settees without backs, +bed-steads without heads, in all stages of disability, and never the +same on two consecutive days. Mrs. Simpson was seldom at home, and even +when she was, had little concern as to what happened on the premises. A +favorite diversion was to make the house into a fort, gallantly held by +a handful of American soldiers against a besieging force of the British +army. Great care was used in apportioning the parts, for there was no +disposition to let anybody win but the Americans. Seesaw Simpson was +usually made commander-in-chief of the British army, and a limp and +uncertain one he was, capable, with his contradictory orders and his +fondness for the extreme rear, of leading any regiment to an inglorious +death. Sometimes the long-suffering house was a log hut, and the brave +settlers defeated a band of hostile Indians, or occasionally were +massacred by them; but in either case the Simpson house looked, to +quote a Riverboro expression, "as if the devil had been having an +auction in it." +</P> + +<P> +Next to this uncommonly interesting playground, as a field of action, +came, in the children's opinion, the "secret spot." There was a velvety +stretch of ground in the Sawyer pasture which was full of fascinating +hollows and hillocks, as well as verdant levels, on which to build +houses. A group of trees concealed it somewhat from view and flung a +grateful shade over the dwellings erected there. It had been hard +though sweet labor to take armfuls of "stickins" and "cutrounds" from +the mill to this secluded spot, and that it had been done mostly after +supper in the dusk of the evenings gave it a still greater flavor. Here +in soap boxes hidden among the trees were stored all their treasures: +wee baskets and plates and cups made of burdock balls, bits of broken +china for parties, dolls, soon to be outgrown, but serving well as +characters in all sorts of romances enacted there,—deaths, funerals, +weddings, christenings. A tall, square house of stickins was to be +built round Rebecca this afternoon, and she was to be Charlotte Corday +leaning against the bars of her prison. +</P> + +<P> +It was a wonderful experience standing inside the building with Emma +Jane's apron wound about her hair; wonderful to feel that when she +leaned her head against the bars they seemed to turn to cold iron; that +her eyes were no longer Rebecca Randall's but mirrored something of +Charlotte Corday's hapless woe. +</P> + +<P> +"Ain't it lovely?" sighed the humble twain, who had done most of the +labor, but who generously admired the result. +</P> + +<P> +"I hate to have to take it down," said Alice, "it's been such a sight +of work." +</P> + +<P> +"If you think you could move up some stones and just take off the top +rows, I could step out over," suggested Charlotte Corday. "Then leave +the stones, and you two can step down into the prison to-morrow and be +the two little princes in the Tower, and I can murder you." +</P> + +<P> +"What princes? What tower?" asked Alice and Emma Jane in one breath. +"Tell us about them." +</P> + +<P> +"Not now, it's my supper time." (Rebecca was a somewhat firm +disciplinarian.) +</P> + +<P> +"It would be elergant being murdered by you," said Emma Jane loyally, +"though you are awful real when you murder; or we could have Elijah and +Elisha for the princes." +</P> + +<P> +"They'd yell when they was murdered," objected Alice; "you know how +silly they are at plays, all except Clara Belle. Besides if we once +show them this secret place, they'll play in it all the time, and +perhaps they'd steal things, like their father." +</P> + +<P> +"They needn't steal just because their father does," argued Rebecca; +"and don't you ever talk about it before them if you want to be my +secret, partic'lar friends. My mother tells me never to say hard things +about people's own folks to their face. She says nobody can bear it, +and it's wicked to shame them for what isn't their fault. Remember +Minnie Smellie!" +</P> + +<P> +Well, they had no difficulty in recalling that dramatic episode, for it +had occurred only a few days before; and a version of it that would +have melted the stoniest heart had been presented to every girl in the +village by Minnie Smellie herself, who, though it was Rebecca and not +she who came off victorious in the bloody battle of words, nursed her +resentment and intended to have revenge. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap07"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +VII +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +RIVERBORO SECRETS +</H3> + +<P> +Mr. Simpson spent little time with his family, owing to certain awkward +methods of horse-trading, or the "swapping" of farm implements and +vehicles of various kinds,—operations in which his customers were +never long suited. After every successful trade he generally passed a +longer or shorter term in jail; for when a poor man without goods or +chattels has the inveterate habit of swapping, it follows naturally +that he must have something to swap; and having nothing of his own, it +follows still more naturally that he must swap something belonging to +his neighbors. +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Simpson was absent from the home circle for the moment because he +had exchanged the Widow Rideout's sleigh for Joseph Goodwin's plough. +Goodwin had lately moved to North Edgewood and had never before met the +urbane and persuasive Mr. Simpson. The Goodwin plough Mr. Simpson +speedily bartered with a man "over Wareham way," and got in exchange +for it an old horse which his owner did not need, as he was leaving +town to visit his daughter for a year, Simpson fattened the aged +animal, keeping him for several weeks (at early morning or after +nightfall) in one neighbor's pasture after another, and then exchanged +him with a Milltown man for a top buggy. It was at this juncture that +the Widow Rideout missed her sleigh from the old carriage house. She +had not used it for fifteen years and might not sit in it for another +fifteen, but it was property, and she did not intend to part with it +without a struggle. Such is the suspicious nature of the village mind +that the moment she discovered her loss her thought at once reverted to +Abner Simpson. So complicated, however, was the nature of this +particular business transaction, and so tortuous the paths of its +progress (partly owing to the complete disappearance of the owner of +the horse, who had gone to the West and left no address), that it took +the sheriff many weeks to prove Mr. Simpson's guilt to the town's and +to the Widow Rideout's satisfaction. Abner himself avowed his complete +innocence, and told the neighbors how a red-haired man with a hare lip +and a pepper-and-salt suit of clothes had called him up one morning +about daylight and offered to swap him a good sleigh for an old cider +press he had layin' out in the dooryard. The bargain was struck, and +he, Abner, had paid the hare-lipped stranger four dollars and +seventy-five cents to boot; whereupon the mysterious one set down the +sleigh, took the press on his cart, and vanished up the road, never to +be seen or heard from afterwards. +</P> + +<P> +"If I could once ketch that consarned old thief," exclaimed Abner +righteously, "I'd make him dance,—workin' off a stolen sleigh on me +an' takin' away my good money an' cider press, to say nothin' o' my +character!" +</P> + +<P> +"You'll never ketch him, Ab," responded the sheriff. "He's cut off the +same piece o' goods as that there cider press and that there character +and that there four-seventy-five o' yourn; nobody ever see any of 'em +but you, and you'll never see 'em again!" +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Simpson, who was decidedly Abner's better half, took in washing +and went out to do days' cleaning, and the town helped in the feeding +and clothing of the children. George, a lanky boy of fourteen, did +chores on neighboring farms, and the others, Samuel, Clara Belle, +Susan, Elijah, and Elisha, went to school, when sufficiently clothed +and not otherwise more pleasantly engaged. +</P> + +<P> +There were no secrets in the villages that lay along the banks of +Pleasant River. There were many hard-working people among the +inhabitants, but life wore away so quietly and slowly that there was a +good deal of spare time for conversation,—under the trees at noon in +the hayfield; hanging over the bridge at nightfall; seated about the +stove in the village store of an evening. These meeting-places +furnished ample ground for the discussion of current events as viewed +by the masculine eye, while choir rehearsals, sewing societies, reading +circles, church picnics, and the like, gave opportunity for the +expression of feminine opinion. All this was taken very much for +granted, as a rule, but now and then some supersensitive person made +violent objections to it, as a theory of life. +</P> + +<P> +Delia Weeks, for example, was a maiden lady who did dressmaking in a +small way; she fell ill, and although attended by all the physicians in +the neighborhood, was sinking slowly into a decline when her cousin +Cyrus asked her to come and keep house for him in Lewiston. She went, +and in a year grew into a robust, hearty, cheerful woman. Returning to +Riverboro on a brief visit, she was asked if she meant to end her days +away from home. +</P> + +<P> +"I do most certainly, if I can get any other place to stay," she +responded candidly. "I was bein' worn to a shadder here, tryin' to keep +my little secrets to myself, an' never succeedin'. First they had it I +wanted to marry the minister, and when he took a wife in Standish I was +known to be disappointed. Then for five or six years they suspicioned I +was tryin' for a place to teach school, and when I gave up hope, an' +took to dressmakin', they pitied me and sympathized with me for that. +When father died I was bound I'd never let anybody know how I was left, +for that spites 'em worse than anything else; but there's ways o' +findin' out, an' they found out, hard as I fought 'em! Then there was +my brother James that went to Arizona when he was sixteen. I gave good +news of him for thirty years runnin', but aunt Achsy Tarbox had a +ferretin' cousin that went out to Tombstone for her health, and she +wrote to a postmaster, or to some kind of a town authority, and found +Jim and wrote back aunt Achsy all about him and just how unfortunate +he'd been. They knew when I had my teeth out and a new set made; they +knew when I put on a false front-piece; they knew when the fruit +peddler asked me to be his third wife—I never told 'em, an' you can be +sure HE never did, but they don't NEED to be told in this village; they +have nothin' to do but guess, an' they'll guess right every time. I was +all tuckered out tryin' to mislead 'em and deceive 'em and sidetrack +'em; but the minute I got where I wa'n't put under a microscope by day +an' a telescope by night and had myself TO myself without sayin' 'By +your leave,' I begun to pick up. Cousin Cyrus is an old man an' +consid'able trouble, but he thinks my teeth are handsome an' says I've +got a splendid suit of hair. There ain't a person in Lewiston that +knows about the minister, or father's will, or Jim's doin's, or the +fruit peddler; an' if they should find out, they wouldn't care, an' +they couldn't remember; for Lewiston 's a busy place, thanks be!" +</P> + +<P> +Miss Delia Weeks may have exaggerated matters somewhat, but it is easy +to imagine that Rebecca as well as all the other Riverboro children had +heard the particulars of the Widow Rideout's missing sleigh and Abner +Simpson's supposed connection with it. +</P> + +<P> +There is not an excess of delicacy or chivalry in the ordinary country +school, and several choice conundrums and bits of verse dealing with +the Simpson affair were bandied about among the scholars, uttered +always, be it said to their credit, in undertones, and when the Simpson +children were not in the group. +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca Randall was of precisely the same stock, and had had much the +same associations as her schoolmates, so one can hardly say why she so +hated mean gossip and so instinctively held herself aloof from it. +</P> + +<P> +Among the Riverboro girls of her own age was a certain excellently +named Minnie Smellie, who was anything but a general favorite. She was +a ferret-eyed, blond-haired, spindle-legged little creature whose mind +was a cross between that of a parrot and a sheep. She was suspected of +copying answers from other girls' slates, although she had never been +caught in the act. Rebecca and Emma Jane always knew when she had +brought a tart or a triangle of layer cake with her school luncheon, +because on those days she forsook the cheerful society of her mates and +sought a safe solitude in the woods, returning after a time with a +jocund smile on her smug face. +</P> + +<P> +After one of these private luncheons Rebecca had been tempted beyond +her strength, and when Minnie took her seat among them asked, "Is your +headache better, Minnie? Let me wipe off that strawberry jam over your +mouth." +</P> + +<P> +There was no jam there as a matter of fact, but the guilty Minnie's +handkerchief went to her crimson face in a flash. +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca confessed to Emma Jane that same afternoon that she felt +ashamed of her prank. "I do hate her ways," she exclaimed, "but I'm +sorry I let her know we 'spected her; and so to make up, I gave her +that little piece of broken coral I keep in my bead purse; you know the +one?" +</P> + +<P> +"It don't hardly seem as if she deserved that, and her so greedy," +remarked Emma Jane. +</P> + +<P> +"I know it, but it makes me feel better," said Rebecca largely; "and +then I've had it two years, and it's broken so it wouldn't ever be any +real good, beautiful as it is to look at." +</P> + +<P> +The coral had partly served its purpose as a reconciling bond, when one +afternoon Rebecca, who had stayed after school for her grammar lesson +as usual, was returning home by way of the short cut. Far ahead, beyond +the bars, she espied the Simpson children just entering the woodsy bit. +Seesaw was not with them, so she hastened her steps in order to secure +company on her homeward walk. They were speedily lost to view, but when +she had almost overtaken them she heard, in the trees beyond, Minnie +Smellie's voice lifted high in song, and the sound of a child's +sobbing. Clara Belle, Susan, and the twins were running along the path, +and Minnie was dancing up and down, shrieking:— +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + "'What made the sleigh love Simpson so?'<BR> + The eager children cried;<BR> + 'Why Simpson loved the sleigh, you know,'<BR> + The teacher quick replied."<BR> +</P> + +<P> +The last glimpse of the routed Simpson tribe, and the last futter of +their tattered garments, disappeared in the dim distance. The fall of +one small stone cast by the valiant Elijah, known as "the fighting +twin," did break the stillness of the woods for a moment, but it did +not come within a hundred yards of Minnie, who shouted "Jail Birds" at +the top of her lungs and then turned, with an agreeable feeling of +excitement, to meet Rebecca, standing perfectly still in the path, with +a day of reckoning plainly set forth in her blazing eyes. +</P> + +<P> +Minnie's face was not pleasant to see, for a coward detected at the +moment of wrongdoing is not an object of delight. +</P> + +<P> +"Minnie Smellie, if ever—I—catch—you—singing—that—to the Simpsons +again—do you know what I'll do?" asked Rebecca in a tone of +concentrated rage. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know and I don't care," said Minnie jauntily, though her looks +belied her. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll take that piece of coral away from you, and I THINK I shall slap +you besides!" +</P> + +<P> +"You wouldn't darst," retorted Minnie. "If you do, I'll tell my mother +and the teacher, so there!" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't care if you tell your mother, my mother, and all your +relations, and the president," said Rebecca, gaining courage as the +noble words fell from her lips. "I don't care if you tell the town, the +whole of York county, the state of Maine and—and the nation!" she +finished grandiloquently. "Now you run home and remember what I say. If +you do it again, and especially if you say 'Jail Birds,' if I think +it's right and my duty, I shall punish you somehow." +</P> + +<P> +The next morning at recess Rebecca observed Minnie telling the tale +with variations to Huldah Meserve. "She THREATENED me," whispered +Minnie, "but I never believe a word she says." +</P> + +<P> +The latter remark was spoken with the direct intention of being +overheard, for Minnie had spasms of bravery, when well surrounded by +the machinery of law and order. +</P> + +<P> +As Rebecca went back to her seat she asked Miss Dearborn if she might +pass a note to Minnie Smellie and received permission. This was the +note:— +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> + Of all the girls that are so mean There's none like Minnie + Smellie. I'll take away the gift I gave And pound her into + jelly. +<BR><BR> + <I>P. S. Now do you believe me?</I> +<BR><BR> + R. Randall. +</P> + +<P> +The effect of this piece of doggerel was entirely convincing, and for +days afterwards whenever Minnie met the Simpsons even a mile from the +brick house she shuddered and held her peace. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap08"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +VIII +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +COLOR OF ROSE +</H3> + +<P> +On the very next Friday after this "dreadfullest fight that ever was +seen," as Bunyan says in Pilgrim's Progress, there were great doings in +the little schoolhouse on the hill. Friday afternoon was always the +time chosen for dialogues, songs, and recitations, but it cannot be +stated that it was a gala day in any true sense of the word. Most of +the children hated "speaking pieces;" hated the burden of learning +them, dreaded the danger of breaking down in them. Miss Dearborn +commonly went home with a headache, and never left her bed during the +rest of the afternoon or evening; and the casual female parent who +attended the exercises sat on a front bench with beads of cold sweat on +her forehead, listening to the all-too-familiar halts and stammers. +Sometimes a bellowing infant who had clean forgotten his verse would +cast himself bodily on the maternal bosom and be borne out into the +open air, where he was sometimes kissed and occasionally spanked; but +in any case the failure added an extra dash of gloom and dread to the +occasion. The advent of Rebecca had somehow infused a new spirit into +these hitherto terrible afternoons. She had taught Elijah and Elisha +Simpson so that they recited three verses of something with such +comical effect that they delighted themselves, the teacher, and the +school; while Susan, who lisped, had been provided with a humorous poem +in which she impersonated a lisping child. Emma Jane and Rebecca had a +dialogue, and the sense of companionship buoyed up Emma Jane and gave +her self-reliance. In fact, Miss Dearborn announced on this particular +Friday morning that the exercises promised to be so interesting that +she had invited the doctor's wife, the minister's wife, two members of +the school committee, and a few mothers. Living Perkins was asked to +decorate one of the black-boards and Rebecca the other. Living, who was +the star artist of the school, chose the map of North America. Rebecca +liked better to draw things less realistic, and speedily, before the +eyes of the enchanted multitude, there grew under her skillful fingers +an American flag done in red, white, and blue chalk, every star in its +right place, every stripe fluttering in the breeze. Beside this +appeared a figure of Columbia, copied from the top of the cigar box +that held the crayons. +</P> + +<P> +Miss Dearborn was delighted. "I propose we give Rebecca a good +hand-clapping for such a beautiful picture—one that the whole school +may well be proud of!" +</P> + +<P> +The scholars clapped heartily, and Dick Carter, waving his hand, gave a +rousing cheer. +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca's heart leaped for joy, and to her confusion she felt the tears +rising in her eyes. She could hardly see the way back to her seat, for +in her ignorant lonely little life she had never been singled out for +applause, never lauded, nor crowned, as in this wonderful, dazzling +moment. If "nobleness enkindleth nobleness," so does enthusiasm beget +enthusiasm, and so do wit and talent enkindle wit and talent. Alice +Robinson proposed that the school should sing Three Cheers for the Red, +White, and Blue! and when they came to the chorus, all point to +Rebecca's flag. Dick Carter suggested that Living Perkins and Rebecca +Randall should sign their names to their pictures, so that the visitors +would know who drew them. Huldah Meserve asked permission to cover the +largest holes in the plastered walls with boughs and fill the water +pail with wild flowers. Rebecca's mood was above and beyond all +practical details. She sat silent, her heart so full of grateful joy +that she could hardly remember the words of her dialogue. At recess she +bore herself modestly, notwithstanding her great triumph, while in the +general atmosphere of good will the Smellie-Randall hatchet was buried +and Minnie gathered maple boughs and covered the ugly stove with them, +under Rebecca's direction. +</P> + +<P> +Miss Dearborn dismissed the morning session at quarter to twelve, so +that those who lived near enough could go home for a change of dress. +Emma Jane and Rebecca ran nearly every step of the way, from sheer +excitement, only stopping to breathe at the stiles. +</P> + +<P> +"Will your aunt Mirandy let you wear your best, or only your buff +calico?" asked Emma Jane. +</P> + +<P> +"I think I'll ask aunt Jane," Rebecca replied. "Oh! if my pink was only +finished! I left aunt Jane making the buttonholes!" +</P> + +<P> +"I'm going to ask my mother to let me wear her garnet ring," said Emma +Jane. "It would look perfectly elergant flashing in the sun when I +point to the flag. Good-by; don't wait for me going back; I may get a +ride." +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca found the side door locked, but she knew that the key was under +the step, and so of course did everybody else in Riverboro, for they +all did about the same thing with it. She unlocked the door and went +into the dining-room to find her lunch laid on the table and a note +from aunt Jane saying that they had gone to Moderation with Mrs. +Robinson in her carryall. Rebecca swallowed a piece of bread and +butter, and flew up the front stairs to her bedroom. On the bed lay the +pink gingham dress finished by aunt Jane's kind hands. Could she, dare +she, wear it without asking? Did the occasion justify a new costume, or +would her aunts think she ought to keep it for the concert? +</P> + +<P> +"I'll wear it," thought Rebecca. "They're not here to ask, and maybe +they wouldn't mind a bit; it's only gingham after all, and wouldn't be +so grand if it wasn't new, and hadn't tape trimming on it, and wasn't +pink." +</P> + +<P> +She unbraided her two pig-tails, combed out the waves of her hair and +tied them back with a ribbon, changed her shoes, and then slipped on +the pretty frock, managing to fasten all but the three middle buttons, +which she reserved for Emma Jane. +</P> + +<P> +Then her eye fell on her cherished pink sunshade, the exact match, and +the girls had never seen it. It wasn't quite appropriate for school, +but she needn't take it into the room; she would wrap it in a piece of +paper, just show it, and carry it coming home. She glanced in the +parlor looking-glass downstairs and was electrified at the vision. It +seemed almost as if beauty of apparel could go no further than that +heavenly pink gingham dress! The sparkle of her eyes, glow of her +cheeks, sheen of her falling hair, passed unnoticed in the +all-conquering charm of the rose-colored garment. Goodness! it was +twenty minutes to one and she would be late. She danced out the side +door, pulled a pink rose from a bush at the gate, and covered the mile +between the brick house and the seat of learning in an incredibly short +time, meeting Emma Jane, also breathless and resplendent, at the +entrance. +</P> + +<P> +"Rebecca Randall!" exclaimed Emma Jane, "you're handsome as a picture!" +</P> + +<P> +"I?" laughed Rebecca "Nonsense! it's only the pink gingham." +</P> + +<P> +"You're not good looking every day," insisted Emma Jane; "but you're +different somehow. See my garnet ring; mother scrubbed it in soap and +water. How on earth did your aunt Mirandy let you put on your bran' new +dress?" +</P> + +<P> +"They were both away and I didn't ask," Rebecca responded anxiously. +"Why? Do you think they'd have said no?" +</P> + +<P> +"Miss Mirandy always says no, doesn't she?" asked Emma Jane. +</P> + +<P> +"Ye—es; but this afternoon is very special—almost like a +Sunday-school concert." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," assented Emma Jane, "it is, of course; with your name on the +board, and our pointing to your flag, and our elergant dialogue, and +all that." +</P> + +<P> +The afternoon was one succession of solid triumphs for everybody +concerned. There were no real failures at all, no tears, no parents +ashamed of their offspring. Miss Dearborn heard many admiring remarks +passed upon her ability, and wondered whether they belonged to her or +partly, at least, to Rebecca. The child had no more to do than several +others, but she was somehow in the foreground. It transpired afterwards +at various village entertainments that Rebecca couldn't be kept in the +background; it positively refused to hold her. Her worst enemy could +not have called her pushing. She was ready and willing and never shy; +but she sought for no chances of display and was, indeed, remarkably +lacking in self-consciousness, as well as eager to bring others into +whatever fun or entertainment there was. If wherever the MacGregor sat +was the head of the table, so in the same way wherever Rebecca stood +was the centre of the stage. Her clear high treble soared above all the +rest in the choruses, and somehow everybody watched her, took note of +her gestures, her whole-souled singing, her irrepressible enthusiasm. +</P> + +<P> +Finally it was all over, and it seemed to Rebecca as if she should +never be cool and calm again, as she loitered on the homeward path. +There would be no lessons to learn to-night, and the vision of helping +with the preserves on the morrow had no terrors for her—fears could +not draw breath in the radiance that flooded her soul. There were thick +gathering clouds in the sky, but she took no note of them save to be +glad that she could raise her sunshade. She did not tread the solid +ground at all, or have any sense of belonging to the common human +family, until she entered the side yard of the brick house and saw her +aunt Miranda standing in the open doorway. Then with a rush she came +back to earth. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap09"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +IX +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +ASHES OF ROSES +</H3> + +<P> +"There she is, over an hour late; a little more an' she'd 'a' been +caught in a thunder shower, but she'd never look ahead," said Miranda +to Jane; "and added to all her other iniquities, if she ain't rigged +out in that new dress, steppin' along with her father's dancin'-school +steps, and swingin' her parasol for all the world as if she was +play-actin'. Now I'm the oldest, Jane, an' I intend to have my say out; +if you don't like it you can go into the kitchen till it's over. Step +right in here, Rebecca; I want to talk to you. What did you put on that +good new dress for, on a school day, without permission?" +</P> + +<P> +"I had intended to ask you at noontime, but you weren't at home, so I +couldn't," began Rebecca. +</P> + +<P> +"You did no such a thing; you put it on because you was left alone, +though you knew well enough I wouldn't have let you." +</P> + +<P> +"If I'd been CERTAIN you wouldn't have let me I'd never have done it," +said Rebecca, trying to be truthful; "but I wasn't CERTAIN, and it was +worth risking. I thought perhaps you might, if you knew it was almost a +real exhibition at school." +</P> + +<P> +"Exhibition!" exclaimed Miranda scornfully; "you are exhibition enough +by yourself, I should say. Was you exhibitin' your parasol?" +</P> + +<P> +"The parasol WAS silly," confessed Rebecca, hanging her head; "but it's +the only time in my whole life when I had anything to match it, and it +looked so beautiful with the pink dress! Emma Jane and I spoke a +dialogue about a city girl and a country girl, and it came to me just +the minute before I started how nice it would come in for the city +girl; and it did. I haven't hurt my dress a mite, aunt Mirandy." +</P> + +<P> +"It's the craftiness and underhandedness of your actions that's the +worst," said Miranda coldly. "And look at the other things you've done! +It seems as if Satan possessed you! You went up the front stairs to +your room, but you didn't hide your tracks, for you dropped your +handkerchief on the way up. You left the screen out of your bedroom +window for the flies to come in all over the house. You never cleared +away your lunch nor set away a dish, AND YOU LEFT THE SIDE DOOR +UNLOCKED from half past twelve to three o'clock, so 't anybody could +'a' come in and stolen what they liked!" +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca sat down heavily in her chair as she heard the list of her +transgressions. How could she have been so careless? The tears began to +flow now as she attempted to explain sins that never could be explained +or justified. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I'm so sorry!" she faltered. "I was trimming the schoolroom, and +got belated, and ran all the way home. It was hard getting into my +dress alone, and I hadn't time to eat but a mouthful, and just at the +last minute, when I honestly—HONESTLY—would have thought about +clearing away and locking up, I looked at the clock and knew I could +hardly get back to school in time to form in the line; and I thought +how dreadful it would be to go in late and get my first black mark on a +Friday afternoon, with the minister's wife and the doctor's wife and +the school committee all there!" +</P> + +<P> +"Don't wail and carry on now; it's no good cryin' over spilt milk," +answered Miranda. "An ounce of good behavior is worth a pound of +repentance. Instead of tryin' to see how little trouble you can make in +a house that ain't your own home, it seems as if you tried to see how +much you could put us out. Take that rose out o' your dress and let me +see the spot it's made on your yoke, an' the rusty holes where the wet +pin went in. No, it ain't; but it's more by luck than forethought. I +ain't got any patience with your flowers and frizzled-out hair and +furbelows an' airs an' graces, for all the world like your Miss-Nancy +father." +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca lifted her head in a flash. "Look here, aunt Mirandy, I'll be +as good as I know how to be. I'll mind quick when I'm spoken to and +never leave the door unlocked again, but I won't have my father called +names. He was a p-perfectly l-lovely father, that's what he was, and +it's MEAN to call him Miss Nancy!" +</P> + +<P> +"Don't you dare answer me back that imperdent way, Rebecca, tellin' me +I'm mean; your father was a vain, foolish, shiftless man, an' you might +as well hear it from me as anybody else; he spent your mother's money +and left her with seven children to provide for." +</P> + +<P> +"It's s-something to leave s-seven nice children," sobbed Rebecca. +</P> + +<P> +"Not when other folks have to help feed, clothe, and educate 'em," +responded Miranda. "Now you step upstairs, put on your nightgown, go to +bed, and stay there till to-morrow mornin'. You'll find a bowl o' +crackers an' milk on your bureau, an' I don't want to hear a sound from +you till breakfast time. Jane, run an' take the dish towels off the +line and shut the shed doors; we're goin' to have a turrible shower." +</P> + +<P> +"We've had it, I should think," said Jane quietly, as she went to do +her sister's bidding. "I don't often speak my mind, Mirandy; but you +ought not to have said what you did about Lorenzo. He was what he was, +and can't be made any different; but he was Rebecca's father, and +Aurelia always says he was a good husband." +</P> + +<P> +Miranda had never heard the proverbial phrase about the only "good +Indian," but her mind worked in the conventional manner when she said +grimly, "Yes, I've noticed that dead husbands are usually good ones; +but the truth needs an airin' now and then, and that child will never +amount to a hill o' beans till she gets some of her father trounced out +of her. I'm glad I said just what I did." +</P> + +<P> +"I daresay you are," remarked Jane, with what might be described as one +of her annual bursts of courage; "but all the same, Mirandy, it wasn't +good manners, and it wasn't good religion!" +</P> + +<P> +The clap of thunder that shook the house just at that moment made no +such peal in Miranda Sawyer's ears as Jane's remark made when it fell +with a deafening roar on her conscience. +</P> + +<P> +Perhaps after all it is just as well to speak only once a year and then +speak to the purpose. +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca mounted the back stairs wearily, closed the door of her +bedroom, and took off the beloved pink gingham with trembling fingers. +Her cotton handkerchief was rolled into a hard ball, and in the +intervals of reaching the more difficult buttons that lay between her +shoulder blades and her belt, she dabbed her wet eyes carefully, so +that they should not rain salt water on the finery that had been worn +at such a price. She smoothed it out carefully, pinched up the white +ruffle at the neck, and laid it away in a drawer with an extra little +sob at the roughness of life. The withered pink rose fell on the floor. +Rebecca looked at it and thought to herself, "Just like my happy day!" +Nothing could show more clearly the kind of child she was than the fact +that she instantly perceived the symbolism of the rose, and laid it in +the drawer with the dress as if she were burying the whole episode with +all its sad memories. It was a child's poetic instinct with a dawning +hint of woman's sentiment in it. +</P> + +<P> +She braided her hair in the two accustomed pig-tails, took off her best +shoes (which had happily escaped notice), with all the while a fixed +resolve growing in her mind, that of leaving the brick house and going +back to the farm. She would not be received there with open +arms,—there was no hope of that,—but she would help her mother about +the house and send Hannah to Riverboro in her place. "I hope she'll +like it!" she thought in a momentary burst of vindictiveness. She sat +by the window trying to make some sort of plan, watching the lightning +play over the hilltop and the streams of rain chasing each other down +the lightning rod. And this was the day that had dawned so joyfully! It +had been a red sunrise, and she had leaned on the window sill studying +her lesson and thinking what a lovely world it was. And what a golden +morning! The changing of the bare, ugly little schoolroom into a bower +of beauty; Miss Dearborn's pleasure at her success with the Simpson +twins' recitation; the privilege of decorating the blackboard; the +happy thought of drawing Columbia from the cigar box; the intoxicating +moment when the school clapped her! And what an afternoon! How it went +on from glory to glory, beginning with Emma Jane's telling her, Rebecca +Randall, that she was as "handsome as a picture." +</P> + +<P> +She lived through the exercises again in memory, especially her +dialogue with Emma Jane and her inspiration of using the bough-covered +stove as a mossy bank where the country girl could sit and watch her +flocks. This gave Emma Jane a feeling of such ease that she never +recited better; and how generous it was of her to lend the garnet ring +to the city girl, fancying truly how it would flash as she furled her +parasol and approached the awe-stricken shepherdess! She had thought +aunt Miranda might be pleased that the niece invited down from the farm +had succeeded so well at school; but no, there was no hope of pleasing +her in that or in any other way. She would go to Maplewood on the stage +next day with Mr. Cobb and get home somehow from cousin Ann's. On +second thoughts her aunts might not allow it. Very well, she would slip +away now and see if she could stay all night with the Cobbs and be off +next morning before breakfast. +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca never stopped long to think, more 's the pity, so she put on +her oldest dress and hat and jacket, then wrapped her nightdress, comb, +and toothbrush in a bundle and dropped it softly out of the window. Her +room was in the L and her window at no very dangerous distance from the +ground, though had it been, nothing could have stopped her at that +moment. Somebody who had gone on the roof to clean out the gutters had +left a cleat nailed to the side of the house about halfway between the +window and the top of the back porch. Rebecca heard the sound of the +sewing machine in the dining-room and the chopping of meat in the +kitchen; so knowing the whereabouts of both her aunts, she scrambled +out of the window, caught hold of the lightning rod, slid down to the +helpful cleat, jumped to the porch, used the woodbine trellis for a +ladder, and was flying up the road in the storm before she had time to +arrange any details of her future movements. +</P> + +<P> +Jeremiah Cobb sat at his lonely supper at the table by the kitchen +window. "Mother," as he with his old-fashioned habits was in the habit +of calling his wife, was nursing a sick neighbor. Mrs. Cobb was mother +only to a little headstone in the churchyard, where reposed "Sarah Ann, +beloved daughter of Jeremiah and Sarah Cobb, aged seventeen months;" +but the name of mother was better than nothing, and served at any rate +as a reminder of her woman's crown of blessedness. +</P> + +<P> +The rain still fell, and the heavens were dark, though it was scarcely +five o'clock. Looking up from his "dish of tea," the old man saw at the +open door a very figure of woe. Rebecca's face was so swollen with +tears and so sharp with misery that for a moment he scarcely recognized +her. Then when he heard her voice asking, "Please may I come in, Mr. +Cobb?" he cried, "Well I vow! It's my little lady passenger! Come to +call on old uncle Jerry and pass the time o' day, hev ye? Why, you're +wet as sops. Draw up to the stove. I made a fire, hot as it was, +thinkin' I wanted somethin' warm for my supper, bein' kind o' lonesome +without mother. She's settin' up with Seth Strout to-night. There, +we'll hang your soppy hat on the nail, put your jacket over the chair +rail, an' then you turn your back to the stove an' dry yourself good." +</P> + +<P> +Uncle Jerry had never before said so many words at a time, but he had +caught sight of the child's red eyes and tear-stained cheeks, and his +big heart went out to her in her trouble, quite regardless of any +circumstances that might have caused it. +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca stood still for a moment until uncle Jerry took his seat again +at the table, and then, unable to contain herself longer, cried, "Oh, +Mr. Cobb, I've run away from the brick house, and I want to go back to +the farm. Will you keep me to-night and take me up to Maplewood in the +stage? I haven't got any money for my fare, but I'll earn it somehow +afterwards." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I guess we won't quarrel 'bout money, you and me," said the old +man; "and we've never had our ride together, anyway, though we allers +meant to go down river, not up." +</P> + +<P> +"I shall never see Milltown now!" sobbed Rebecca. +</P> + +<P> +"Come over here side o' me an' tell me all about it," coaxed uncle +Jerry. "Jest set down on that there wooden cricket an' out with the +whole story." +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca leaned her aching head against Mr. Cobb's homespun knee and +recounted the history of her trouble. Tragic as that history seemed to +her passionate and undisciplined mind, she told it truthfully and +without exaggeration. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap10"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +X +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +RAINBOW BRIDGES +</H3> + +<P> +Uncle Jerry coughed and stirred in his chair a good deal during +Rebecca's recital, but he carefully concealed any undue feeling of +sympathy, just muttering, "Poor little soul! We'll see what we can do +for her!" +</P> + +<P> +"You will take me to Maplewood, won't you, Mr. Cobb?" begged Rebecca +piteously. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't you fret a mite," he answered, with a crafty little notion at +the back of his mind; "I'll see the lady passenger through somehow. Now +take a bite o' somethin' to eat, child. Spread some o' that tomato +preserve on your bread; draw up to the table. How'd you like to set in +mother's place an' pour me out another cup o' hot tea?" +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Jeremiah Cobb's mental machinery was simple, and did not move very +smoothly save when propelled by his affection or sympathy. In the +present case these were both employed to his advantage, and mourning +his stupidity and praying for some flash of inspiration to light his +path, he blundered along, trusting to Providence. +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca, comforted by the old man's tone, and timidly enjoying the +dignity of sitting in Mrs. Cobb's seat and lifting the blue china +teapot, smiled faintly, smoothed her hair, and dried her eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"I suppose your mother'll be turrible glad to see you back again?" +queried Mr. Cobb. +</P> + +<P> +A tiny fear—just a baby thing—in the bottom of Rebecca's heart +stirred and grew larger the moment it was touched with a question. +</P> + +<P> +"She won't like it that I ran away, I s'pose, and she'll be sorry that +I couldn't please aunt Mirandy; but I'll make her understand, just as I +did you." +</P> + +<P> +"I s'pose she was thinkin' o' your schoolin', lettin' you come down +here; but land! you can go to school in Temperance, I s'pose?" +</P> + +<P> +"There's only two months' school now in Temperance, and the farm 's too +far from all the other schools." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh well! there's other things in the world beside edjercation," +responded uncle Jerry, attacking a piece of apple pie. +</P> + +<P> +"Ye—es; though mother thought that was going to be the making of me," +returned Rebecca sadly, giving a dry little sob as she tried to drink +her tea. +</P> + +<P> +"It'll be nice for you to be all together again at the farm—such a +house full o' children!" remarked the dear old deceiver, who longed for +nothing so much as to cuddle and comfort the poor little creature. +</P> + +<P> +"It's too full—that's the trouble. But I'll make Hannah come to +Riverboro in my place." +</P> + +<P> +"S'pose Mirandy 'n' Jane'll have her? I should be 'most afraid they +wouldn't. They'll be kind o' mad at your goin' home, you know, and you +can't hardly blame 'em." +</P> + +<P> +This was quite a new thought,—that the brick house might be closed to +Hannah, since she, Rebecca, had turned her back upon its cold +hospitality. +</P> + +<P> +"How is this school down here in Riverboro—pretty good?" inquired +uncle Jerry, whose brain was working with an altogether unaccustomed +rapidity,—so much so that it almost terrified him. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, it's a splendid school! And Miss Dearborn is a splendid teacher!" +</P> + +<P> +"You like her, do you? Well, you'd better believe she returns the +compliment. Mother was down to the store this afternoon buyin' liniment +for Seth Strout, an' she met Miss Dearborn on the bridge. They got to +talkin' 'bout school, for mother has summer-boarded a lot o' the +schoolmarms, an' likes 'em. 'How does the little Temperance girl git +along?' asks mother. 'Oh, she's the best scholar I have!' says Miss +Dearborn. 'I could teach school from sun-up to sun-down if scholars was +all like Rebecca Randall,' says she." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Mr. Cobb, DID she say that?" glowed Rebecca, her face sparkling +and dimpling in an instant. "I've tried hard all the time, but I'll +study the covers right off of the books now." +</P> + +<P> +"You mean you would if you'd ben goin' to stay here," interposed uncle +Jerry. "Now ain't it too bad you've jest got to give it all up on +account o' your aunt Mirandy? Well, I can't hardly blame ye. She's +cranky an' she's sour; I should think she'd ben nussed on bonny-clabber +an' green apples. She needs bearin' with; an' I guess you ain't much on +patience, be ye?" +</P> + +<P> +"Not very much," replied Rebecca dolefully. +</P> + +<P> +"If I'd had this talk with ye yesterday," pursued Mr. Cobb, "I believe +I'd have advised ye different. It's too late now, an' I don't feel to +say you've ben all in the wrong; but if 't was to do over again, I'd +say, well, your aunt Mirandy gives you clothes and board and schoolin' +and is goin' to send you to Wareham at a big expense. She's turrible +hard to get along with, an' kind o' heaves benefits at your head, same +'s she would bricks; but they're benefits jest the same, an' mebbe it's +your job to kind o' pay for 'em in good behavior. Jane's a leetle bit +more easy goin' than Mirandy, ain't she, or is she jest as hard to +please?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, aunt Jane and I get along splendidly," exclaimed Rebecca; "she's +just as good and kind as she can be, and I like her better all the +time. I think she kind of likes me, too; she smoothed my hair once. I'd +let her scold me all day long, for she understands; but she can't stand +up for me against aunt Mirandy; she's about as afraid of her as I am." +</P> + +<P> +"Jane'll be real sorry to-morrow to find you've gone away, I guess; but +never mind, it can't be helped. If she has a kind of a dull time with +Mirandy, on account o' her bein' so sharp, why of course she'd set +great store by your comp'ny. Mother was talkin' with her after prayer +meetin' the other night. 'You wouldn't know the brick house, Sarah,' +says Jane. 'I'm keepin' a sewin' school, an' my scholar has made three +dresses. What do you think o' that,' says she, 'for an old maid's +child? I've taken a class in Sunday-school,' says Jane, 'an' think o' +renewin' my youth an' goin' to the picnic with Rebecca,' says she; an' +mother declares she never see her look so young 'n' happy." +</P> + +<P> +There was a silence that could be felt in the little kitchen; a silence +only broken by the ticking of the tall clock and the beating of +Rebecca's heart, which, it seemed to her, almost drowned the voice of +the clock. The rain ceased, a sudden rosy light filled the room, and +through the window a rainbow arch could be seen spanning the heavens +like a radiant bridge. Bridges took one across difficult places, +thought Rebecca, and uncle Jerry seemed to have built one over her +troubles and given her strength to walk. +</P> + +<P> +"The shower 's over," said the old man, filling his pipe; "it's cleared +the air, washed the face o' the airth nice an' clean, an' everything +to-morrer will shine like a new pin—when you an' I are drivin' up +river." +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca pushed her cup away, rose from the table, and put on her hat +and jacket quietly. "I'm not going to drive up river, Mr. Cobb," she +said. "I'm going to stay here and—catch bricks; catch 'em without +throwing 'em back, too. I don't know as aunt Mirandy will take me in +after I've run away, but I'm going back now while I have the courage. +You wouldn't be so good as to go with me, would you, Mr. Cobb?" +</P> + +<P> +"You'd better b'lieve your uncle Jerry don't propose to leave till he +gits this thing fixed up," cried the old man delightedly. "Now you've +had all you can stan' to-night, poor little soul, without gettin' a fit +o' sickness; an' Mirandy'll be sore an' cross an' in no condition for +argyment; so my plan is jest this: to drive you over to the brick house +in my top buggy; to have you set back in the corner, an' I git out an' +go to the side door; an' when I git your aunt Mirandy 'n' aunt Jane out +int' the shed to plan for a load o' wood I'm goin' to have hauled there +this week, you'll slip out o' the buggy and go upstairs to bed. The +front door won't be locked, will it?" +</P> + +<P> +"Not this time of night," Rebecca answered; "not till aunt Mirandy goes +to bed; but oh! what if it should be?" +</P> + +<P> +"Well, it won't; an' if 't is, why we'll have to face it out; though in +my opinion there's things that won't bear facin' out an' had better be +settled comfortable an' quiet. You see you ain't run away yet; you've +only come over here to consult me 'bout runnin' away, an' we've +concluded it ain't wuth the trouble. The only real sin you've +committed, as I figger it out, was in comin' here by the winder when +you'd ben sent to bed. That ain't so very black, an' you can tell your +aunt Jane 'bout it come Sunday, when she's chock full o' religion, an' +she can advise you when you'd better tell your aunt Mirandy. I don't +believe in deceivin' folks, but if you've hed hard thoughts you ain't +obleeged to own 'em up; take 'em to the Lord in prayer, as the hymn +says, and then don't go on hevin' 'em. Now come on; I'm all hitched up +to go over to the post-office; don't forget your bundle; 'it's always a +journey, mother, when you carry a nightgown;' them 's the first words +your uncle Jerry ever heard you say! He didn't think you'd be bringin' +your nightgown over to his house. Step in an' curl up in the corner; we +ain't goin' to let folks see little runaway gals, 'cause they're goin' +back to begin all over ag'in!" +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +When Rebecca crept upstairs, and undressing in the dark finally found +herself in her bed that night, though she was aching and throbbing in +every nerve, she felt a kind of peace stealing over her. She had been +saved from foolishness and error; kept from troubling her poor mother; +prevented from angering and mortifying her aunts. +</P> + +<P> +Her heart was melted now, and she determined to win aunt Miranda's +approval by some desperate means, and to try and forget the one thing +that rankled worst, the scornful mention of her father, of whom she +thought with the greatest admiration, and whom she had not yet heard +criticised; for such sorrows and disappointments as Aurelia Randall had +suffered had never been communicated to her children. +</P> + +<P> +It would have been some comfort to the bruised, unhappy little spirit +to know that Miranda Sawyer was passing an uncomfortable night, and +that she tacitly regretted her harshness, partly because Jane had taken +such a lofty and virtuous position in the matter. She could not endure +Jane's disapproval, although she would never have confessed to such a +weakness. +</P> + +<P> +As uncle Jerry drove homeward under the stars, well content with his +attempts at keeping the peace, he thought wistfully of the touch of +Rebecca's head on his knee, and the rain of her tears on his hand; of +the sweet reasonableness of her mind when she had the matter put +rightly before her; of her quick decision when she had once seen the +path of duty; of the touching hunger for love and understanding that +were so characteristic in her. "Lord A'mighty!" he ejaculated under his +breath, "Lord A'mighty! to hector and abuse a child like that one! 'T +ain't ABUSE exactly, I know, or 't wouldn't be to some o' your +elephant-hided young ones; but to that little tender will-o'-the-wisp a +hard word 's like a lash. Mirandy Sawyer would be a heap better woman +if she had a little gravestun to remember, same's mother 'n' I have." +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +"I never see a child improve in her work as Rebecca has to-day," +remarked Miranda Sawyer to Jane on Saturday evening. "That settin' down +I gave her was probably just what she needed, and I daresay it'll last +for a month." +</P> + +<P> +"I'm glad you're pleased," returned Jane. "A cringing worm is what you +want, not a bright, smiling child. Rebecca looks to me as if she'd been +through the Seven Years' War. When she came downstairs this morning it +seemed to me she'd grown old in the night. If you follow my advice, +which you seldom do, you'll let me take her and Emma Jane down beside +the river to-morrow afternoon and bring Emma Jane home to a good Sunday +supper. Then if you'll let her go to Milltown with the Cobbs on +Wednesday, that'll hearten her up a little and coax back her appetite. +Wednesday 's a holiday on account of Miss Dearborn's going home to her +sister's wedding, and the Cobbs and Perkinses want to go down to the +Agricultural Fair." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap11"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +XI +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +"THE STIRRING OF THE POWERS" +</H3> + +<P> +Rebecca's visit to Milltown was all that her glowing fancy had painted +it, except that recent readings about Rome and Venice disposed her to +believe that those cities might have an advantage over Milltown in the +matter of mere pictorial beauty. So soon does the soul outgrow its +mansions that after once seeing Milltown her fancy ran out to the +future sight of Portland; for that, having islands and a harbor and two +public monuments, must be far more beautiful than Milltown, which +would, she felt, take its proud place among the cities of the earth, by +reason of its tremendous business activity rather than by any +irresistible appeal to the imagination. +</P> + +<P> +It would be impossible for two children to see more, do more, walk +more, talk more, eat more, or ask more questions than Rebecca and Emma +Jane did on that eventful Wednesday. +</P> + +<P> +"She's the best company I ever see in all my life," said Mrs. Cobb to +her husband that evening. "We ain't had a dull minute this day. She's +well-mannered, too; she didn't ask for anything, and was thankful for +whatever she got. Did you watch her face when we went into that tent +where they was actin' out Uncle Tom's Cabin? And did you take notice of +the way she told us about the book when we sat down to have our ice +cream? I tell you Harriet Beecher Stowe herself couldn't 'a' done it +better justice." +</P> + +<P> +"I took it all in," responded Mr. Cobb, who was pleased that "mother" +agreed with him about Rebecca. "I ain't sure but she's goin' to turn +out somethin' remarkable,—a singer, or a writer, or a lady doctor like +that Miss Parks up to Cornish." +</P> + +<P> +"Lady doctors are always home'paths, ain't they?" asked Mrs. Cobb, who, +it is needless to say, was distinctly of the old school in medicine. +</P> + +<P> +"Land, no, mother; there ain't no home'path 'bout Miss Parks—she +drives all over the country." +</P> + +<P> +"I can't see Rebecca as a lady doctor, somehow," mused Mrs. Cobb. "Her +gift o' gab is what's goin' to be the makin' of her; mebbe she'll +lecture, or recite pieces, like that Portland elocutionist that come +out here to the harvest supper." +</P> + +<P> +"I guess she'll be able to write down her own pieces," said Mr. Cobb +confidently; "she could make 'em up faster 'n she could read 'em out of +a book." +</P> + +<P> +"It's a pity she's so plain looking," remarked Mrs. Cobb, blowing out +the candle. +</P> + +<P> +"PLAIN LOOKING, mother?" exclaimed her husband in astonishment. "Look +at the eyes of her; look at the hair of her, an' the smile, an' that +there dimple! Look at Alice Robinson, that's called the prettiest child +on the river, an' see how Rebecca shines her ri' down out o' sight! I +hope Mirandy'll favor her comin' over to see us real often, for she'll +let off some of her steam here, an' the brick house'll be consid'able +safer for everybody concerned. We've known what it was to hev children, +even if 't was more 'n thirty years ago, an' we can make allowances." +</P> + +<P> +Notwithstanding the encomiums of Mr. and Mrs. Cobb, Rebecca made a poor +hand at composition writing at this time. Miss Dearborn gave her every +sort of subject that she had ever been given herself: Cloud Pictures; +Abraham Lincoln; Nature; Philanthropy; Slavery; Intemperance; Joy and +Duty; Solitude; but with none of them did Rebecca seem to grapple +satisfactorily. +</P> + +<P> +"Write as you talk, Rebecca," insisted poor Miss Dearborn, who secretly +knew that she could never manage a good composition herself. +</P> + +<P> +"But gracious me, Miss Dearborn! I don't talk about nature and slavery. +I can't write unless I have something to say, can I?" +</P> + +<P> +"That is what compositions are for," returned Miss Dearborn doubtfully; +"to make you have things to say. Now in your last one, on solitude, you +haven't said anything very interesting, and you've made it too common +and every-day to sound well. There are too many 'yous' and 'yours' in +it; you ought to say 'one' now and then, to make it seem more like good +writing. 'One opens a favorite book;' 'One's thoughts are a great +comfort in solitude,' and so on." +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know any more about solitude this week than I did about joy +and duty last week," grumbled Rebecca. +</P> + +<P> +"You tried to be funny about joy and duty," said Miss Dearborn +reprovingly; "so of course you didn't succeed." +</P> + +<P> +"I didn't know you were going to make us read the things out loud," +said Rebecca with an embarrassed smile of recollection. +</P> + +<P> +"Joy and Duty" had been the inspiring subject given to the older +children for a theme to be written in five minutes. +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca had wrestled, struggled, perspired in vain. When her turn came +to read she was obliged to confess she had written nothing. +</P> + +<P> +"You have at least two lines, Rebecca," insisted the teacher, "for I +see them on your slate." +</P> + +<P> +"I'd rather not read them, please; they are not good," pleaded Rebecca. +</P> + +<P> +"Read what you have, good or bad, little or much; I am excusing nobody." +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca rose, overcome with secret laughter, dread, and mortification; +then in a low voice she read the couplet:— +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + When Joy and Duty clash<BR> + Let Duty go to smash.<BR> +</P> + +<P> +Dick Carter's head disappeared under the desk, while Living Perkins +choked with laughter. +</P> + +<P> +Miss Dearborn laughed too; she was little more than a girl, and the +training of the young idea seldom appealed to the sense of humor. +</P> + +<P> +"You must stay after school and try again, Rebecca," she said, but she +said it smilingly. "Your poetry hasn't a very nice idea in it for a +good little girl who ought to love duty." +</P> + +<P> +"It wasn't MY idea," said Rebecca apologetically. "I had only made the +first line when I saw you were going to ring the bell and say the time +was up. I had 'clash' written, and I couldn't think of anything then +but 'hash' or 'rash' or 'smash.' I'll change it to this:— +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + When Joy and Duty clash,<BR> + 'T is Joy must go to smash."<BR> +</P> + +<P> +"That is better," Miss Dearborn answered, "though I cannot think 'going +to smash' is a pretty expression for poetry." +</P> + +<P> +Having been instructed in the use of the indefinite pronoun "one" as +giving a refined and elegant touch to literary efforts, Rebecca +painstakingly rewrote her composition on solitude, giving it all the +benefit of Miss Dearborn's suggestion. It then appeared in the +following form, which hardly satisfied either teacher or pupil:— +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +SOLITUDE +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +It would be false to say that one could ever be alone when one has +one's lovely thoughts to comfort one. One sits by one's self, it is +true, but one thinks; one opens one's favorite book and reads one's +favorite story; one speaks to one's aunt or one's brother, fondles +one's cat, or looks at one's photograph album. There is one's work +also: what a joy it is to one, if one happens to like work. All one's +little household tasks keep one from being lonely. Does one ever feel +bereft when one picks up one's chips to light one's fire for one's +evening meal? Or when one washes one's milk pail before milking one's +cow? One would fancy not. +<BR><BR> +R. R. R. +</P> + +<P> +"It is perfectly dreadful," sighed Rebecca when she read it aloud after +school. "Putting in 'one' all the time doesn't make it sound any more +like a book, and it looks silly besides." +</P> + +<P> +"You say such queer things," objected Miss Dearborn. "I don't see what +makes you do it. Why did you put in anything so common as picking up +chips?" +</P> + +<P> +"Because I was talking about 'household tasks' in the sentence before, +and it IS one of my household tasks. Don't you think calling supper +'one's evening meal' is pretty? and isn't 'bereft' a nice word?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, that part of it does very well. It is the cat, the chips, and the +milk pail that I don't like." +</P> + +<P> +"All right!" sighed Rebecca. "Out they go; Does the cow go too?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, I don't like a cow in a composition," said the difficult Miss +Dearborn. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +The Milltown trip had not been without its tragic consequences of a +small sort; for the next week Minnie Smellie's mother told Miranda +Sawyer that she'd better look after Rebecca, for she was given to +"swearing and profane language;" that she had been heard saying +something dreadful that very afternoon, saying it before Emma Jane and +Living Perkins, who only laughed and got down on all fours and chased +her. +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca, on being confronted and charged with the crime, denied it +indignantly, and aunt Jane believed her. +</P> + +<P> +"Search your memory, Rebecca, and try to think what Minnie overheard +you say," she pleaded. "Don't be ugly and obstinate, but think real +hard. When did they chase you up the road, and what were you doing?" +</P> + +<P> +A sudden light broke upon Rebecca's darkness. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh! I see it now," she exclaimed. "It had rained hard all the morning, +you know, and the road was full of puddles. Emma Jane, Living, and I +were walking along, and I was ahead. I saw the water streaming over the +road towards the ditch, and it reminded me of Uncle Tom's Cabin at +Milltown, when Eliza took her baby and ran across the Mississippi on +the ice blocks, pursued by the bloodhounds. We couldn't keep from +laughing after we came out of the tent because they were acting on such +a small platform that Eliza had to run round and round, and part of the +time the one dog they had pursued her, and part of the time she had to +pursue the dog. I knew Living would remember, too, so I took off my +waterproof and wrapped it round my books for a baby; then I shouted, +'MY GOD! THE RIVER!' just like that—the same as Eliza did in the play; +then I leaped from puddle to puddle, and Living and Emma Jane pursued +me like the bloodhounds. It's just like that stupid Minnie Smellie who +doesn't know a game when she sees one. And Eliza wasn't swearing when +she said 'My God! the river!' It was more like praying." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, you've got no call to be prayin', any more than swearin', in the +middle of the road," said Miranda; "but I'm thankful it's no worse. +You're born to trouble as the sparks fly upward, an' I'm afraid you +allers will be till you learn to bridle your unruly tongue." +</P> + +<P> +"I wish sometimes that I could bridle Minnie's," murmured Rebecca, as +she went to set the table for supper. +</P> + +<P> +"I declare she IS the beatin'est child!" said Miranda, taking off her +spectacles and laying down her mending. "You don't think she's a leetle +mite crazy, do you, Jane?" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't think she's like the rest of us," responded Jane thoughtfully +and with some anxiety in her pleasant face; "but whether it's for the +better or the worse I can't hardly tell till she grows up. She's got +the making of 'most anything in her, Rebecca has; but I feel sometimes +as if we were not fitted to cope with her." +</P> + +<P> +"Stuff an' nonsense!" said Miranda "Speak for yourself. I feel fitted +to cope with any child that ever was born int' the world!" +</P> + +<P> +"I know you do, Mirandy; but that don't MAKE you so," returned Jane +with a smile. +</P> + +<P> +The habit of speaking her mind freely was certainly growing on Jane to +an altogether terrifying extent. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap12"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +XII +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +"SEE THE PALE MARTYR" +</H3> + +<P> +It was about this time that Rebecca, who had been reading about the +Spartan boy, conceived the idea of some mild form of self-punishment to +be applied on occasions when she was fully convinced in her own mind +that it would be salutary. The immediate cause of the decision was a +somewhat sadder accident than was common, even in a career prolific in +such things. +</P> + +<P> +Clad in her best, Rebecca had gone to take tea with the Cobbs; but +while crossing the bridge she was suddenly overcome by the beauty of +the river and leaned over the newly painted rail to feast her eyes on +the dashing torrent of the fall. Resting her elbows on the topmost +board, and inclining her little figure forward in delicious ease, she +stood there dreaming. +</P> + +<P> +The river above the dam was a glassy lake with all the loveliness of +blue heaven and green shore reflected in its surface; the fall was a +swirling wonder of water, ever pouring itself over and over +inexhaustibly in luminous golden gushes that lost themselves in snowy +depths of foam. Sparkling in the sunshine, gleaming under the summer +moon, cold and gray beneath a November sky, trickling over the dam in +some burning July drought, swollen with turbulent power in some April +freshet, how many young eyes gazed into the mystery and majesty of the +falls along that river, and how many young hearts dreamed out their +futures leaning over the bridge rail, seeing "the vision splendid" +reflected there and often, too, watching it fade into "the light of +common day." +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca never went across the bridge without bending over the rail to +wonder and to ponder, and at this special moment she was putting the +finishing touches on a poem. +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + Two maidens by a river strayed<BR> + Down in the state of Maine.<BR> + The one was called Rebecca,<BR> + The other Emma Jane.<BR> + "I would my life were like the stream,"<BR> + Said her named Emma Jane,<BR> + "So quiet and so very smooth,<BR> + So free from every pain."<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + "I'd rather be a little drop<BR> + In the great rushing fall!<BR> + I would not choose the glassy lake,<BR> + 'T would not suit me at all!"<BR> + (It was the darker maiden spoke<BR> + The words I just have stated,<BR> + The maidens twain were simply friends<BR> + And not at all related.)<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + But O! alas I we may not have<BR> + The things we hope to gain;<BR> + The quiet life may come to me,<BR> + The rush to Emma Jane!<BR> +</P> + +<P> +"I don't like 'the rush to Emma Jane,' and I can't think of anything +else. Oh! what a smell of paint! Oh! it is ON me! Oh! it's all over my +best dress! Oh! what WILL aunt Miranda say!" +</P> + +<P> +With tears of self-reproach streaming from her eyes, Rebecca flew up +the hill, sure of sympathy, and hoping against hope for help of some +sort. +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Cobb took in the situation at a glance, and professed herself able +to remove almost any stain from almost any fabric; and in this she was +corroborated by uncle Jerry, who vowed that mother could git anything +out. Sometimes she took the cloth right along with the spot, but she +had a sure hand, mother had! +</P> + +<P> +The damaged garment was removed and partially immersed in turpentine, +while Rebecca graced the festal board clad in a blue calico wrapper of +Mrs. Cobb's. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't let it take your appetite away," crooned Mrs. Cobb. "I've got +cream biscuit and honey for you. If the turpentine don't work, I'll try +French chalk, magneshy, and warm suds. If they fail, father shall run +over to Strout's and borry some of the stuff Marthy got in Milltown to +take the currant pie out of her weddin' dress." +</P> + +<P> +"I ain't got to understandin' this paintin' accident yet," said uncle +Jerry jocosely, as he handed Rebecca the honey. "Bein' as how there's +'Fresh Paint' signs hung all over the breedge, so 't a blind asylum +couldn't miss 'em, I can't hardly account for your gettin' int' the +pesky stuff." +</P> + +<P> +"I didn't notice the signs," Rebecca said dolefully. "I suppose I was +looking at the falls." +</P> + +<P> +"The falls has been there sence the beginnin' o' time, an' I cal'late +they'll be there till the end on 't; so you needn't 'a' been in sech a +brash to git a sight of 'em. Children comes turrible high, mother, but +I s'pose we must have 'em!" he said, winking at Mrs. Cobb. +</P> + +<P> +When supper was cleared away Rebecca insisted on washing and wiping the +dishes, while Mrs. Cobb worked on the dress with an energy that plainly +showed the gravity of the task. Rebecca kept leaving her post at the +sink to bend anxiously over the basin and watch her progress, while +uncle Jerry offered advice from time to time. +</P> + +<P> +"You must 'a' laid all over the breedge, deary," said Mrs. Cobb; "for +the paint 's not only on your elbows and yoke and waist, but it about +covers your front breadth." +</P> + +<P> +As the garment began to look a little better Rebecca's spirits took an +upward turn, and at length she left it to dry in the fresh air, and +went into the sitting-room. +</P> + +<P> +"Have you a piece of paper, please?" asked Rebecca. "I'll copy out the +poetry I was making while I was lying in the paint." +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Cobb sat by her mending basket, and uncle Jerry took down a +gingham bag of strings and occupied himself in taking the snarls out of +them,—a favorite evening amusement with him. +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca soon had the lines copied in her round school-girl hand, making +such improvements as occurred to her on sober second thought. +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + THE TWO WISHES<BR> + BY<BR> + REBECCA RANDALL<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + Two maidens by a river strayed,<BR> + 'T was in the state of Maine.<BR> + Rebecca was the darker one,<BR> + The fairer, Emma Jane.<BR> + The fairer maiden said, "I would<BR> + My life were as the stream;<BR> + So peaceful, and so smooth and still,<BR> + So pleasant and serene."<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + "I'd rather be a little drop<BR> + In the great rushing fall;<BR> + I'd never choose the quiet lake;<BR> + 'T would not please me at all."<BR> + (It was the darker maiden spoke<BR> + The words we just have stated;<BR> + The maidens twain were simply friends,<BR> + Not sisters, or related.)<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + But O! alas! we may not have<BR> + The things we hope to gain.<BR> + The quiet life may come to me,<BR> + The rush to Emma Jane!<BR> +</P> + +<P> +She read it aloud, and the Cobbs thought it not only surpassingly +beautiful, but a marvelous production. +</P> + +<P> +"I guess if that writer that lived on Congress Street in Portland could +'a' heard your poetry he'd 'a' been astonished," said Mrs. Cobb. "If +you ask me, I say this piece is as good as that one o' his, 'Tell me +not in mournful numbers;' and consid'able clearer." +</P> + +<P> +"I never could fairly make out what 'mournful numbers' was," remarked +Mr. Cobb critically. +</P> + +<P> +"Then I guess you never studied fractions!" flashed Rebecca. "See here, +uncle Jerry and aunt Sarah, would you write another verse, especially +for a last one, as they usually do—one with 'thoughts' in it—to make +a better ending?" +</P> + +<P> +"If you can grind 'em out jest by turnin' the crank, why I should say +the more the merrier; but I don't hardly see how you could have a +better endin'," observed Mr. Cobb. +</P> + +<P> +"It is horrid!" grumbled Rebecca. "I ought not to have put that 'me' +in. I'm writing the poetry. Nobody ought to know it IS me standing by +the river; it ought to be 'Rebecca,' or 'the darker maiden;' and 'the +rush to Emma Jane' is simply dreadful. Sometimes I think I never will +try poetry, it's so hard to make it come right; and other times it just +says itself. I wonder if this would be better? +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + But O! alas! we may not gain<BR> + The good for which we pray<BR> + The quiet life may come to one<BR> + Who likes it rather gay,<BR> +</P> + +<P> +I don't know whether that is worse or not. Now for a new last verse!" +</P> + +<P> +In a few minutes the poetess looked up, flushed and triumphant. "It was +as easy as nothing. Just hear!" And she read slowly, with her pretty, +pathetic voice:— +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + Then if our lot be bright or sad,<BR> + Be full of smiles, or tears,<BR> + The thought that God has planned it so<BR> + Should help us bear the years.<BR> +</P> + +<P> +Mr. and Mrs. Cobb exchanged dumb glances of admiration; indeed uncle +Jerry was obliged to turn his face to the window and wipe his eyes +furtively with the string-bag. +</P> + +<P> +"How in the world did you do it?" Mrs. Cobb exclaimed. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, it's easy," answered Rebecca; "the hymns at meeting are all like +that. You see there's a school newspaper printed at Wareham Academy +once a month. Dick Carter says the editor is always a boy, of course; +but he allows girls to try and write for it, and then chooses the best. +Dick thinks I can be in it." +</P> + +<P> +"IN it!" exclaimed uncle Jerry. "I shouldn't be a bit surprised if you +had to write the whole paper; an' as for any boy editor, you could lick +him writin', I bate ye, with one hand tied behind ye." +</P> + +<P> +"Can we have a copy of the poetry to keep in the family Bible?" +inquired Mrs. Cobb respectfully. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh! would you like it?" asked Rebecca. "Yes indeed! I'll do a clean, +nice one with violet ink and a fine pen. But I must go and look at my +poor dress." +</P> + +<P> +The old couple followed Rebecca into the kitchen. The frock was quite +dry, and in truth it had been helped a little by aunt Sarah's +ministrations; but the colors had run in the rubbing, the pattern was +blurred, and there were muddy streaks here and there. As a last resort, +it was carefully smoothed with a warm iron, and Rebecca was urged to +attire herself, that they might see if the spots showed as much when it +was on. +</P> + +<P> +They did, most uncompromisingly, and to the dullest eye. Rebecca gave +one searching look, and then said, as she took her hat from a nail in +the entry, "I think I'll be going. Good-night! If I've got to have a +scolding, I want it quick, and get it over." +</P> + +<P> +"Poor little onlucky misfortunate thing!" sighed uncle Jerry, as his +eyes followed her down the hill. "I wish she could pay some attention +to the ground under her feet; but I vow, if she was ourn I'd let her +slop paint all over the house before I could scold her. Here's her +poetry she's left behind. Read it out ag'in, mother. Land!" he +continued, chuckling, as he lighted his cob pipe; "I can just see the +last flap o' that boy-editor's shirt tail as he legs it for the woods, +while Rebecky settles down in his revolvin' cheer! I'm puzzled as to +what kind of a job editin' is, exactly; but she'll find out, Rebecky +will. An' she'll just edit for all she's worth! +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + "'The thought that God has planned it so<BR> + Should help us bear the years.'<BR> +</P> + +<P> +Land, mother! that takes right holt, kind o' like the gospel. How do +you suppose she thought that out?" +</P> + +<P> +"She couldn't have thought it out at her age," said Mrs. Cobb; "she +must have just guessed it was that way. We know some things without +bein' told, Jeremiah." +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Rebecca took her scolding (which she richly deserved) like a soldier. +There was considerable of it, and Miss Miranda remarked, among other +things, that so absent-minded a child was sure to grow up into a +driveling idiot. She was bidden to stay away from Alice Robinson's +birthday party, and doomed to wear her dress, stained and streaked as +it was, until it was worn out. Aunt Jane six months later mitigated +this martyrdom by making her a ruffled dimity pinafore, artfully shaped +to conceal all the spots. She was blessedly ready with these mediations +between the poor little sinner and the full consequences of her sin. +</P> + +<P> +When Rebecca had heard her sentence and gone to the north chamber she +began to think. If there was anything she did not wish to grow into, it +was an idiot of any sort, particularly a driveling one; and she +resolved to punish herself every time she incurred what she considered +to be the righteous displeasure of her virtuous relative. She didn't +mind staying away from Alice Robinson's. She had told Emma Jane it +would be like a picnic in a graveyard, the Robinson house being as near +an approach to a tomb as a house can manage to be. Children were +commonly brought in at the back door, and requested to stand on +newspapers while making their call, so that Alice was begged by her +friends to "receive" in the shed or barn whenever possible. Mrs. +Robinson was not only "turrible neat," but "turrible close," so that +the refreshments were likely to be peppermint lozenges and glasses of +well water. +</P> + +<P> +After considering the relative values, as penances, of a piece of +haircloth worn next to the skin, and a pebble in the shoe, she dismissed +them both. The haircloth could not be found, and the pebble would +attract the notice of the Argus-eyed aunt, besides being a foolish bar +to the activity of a person who had to do housework and walk a mile and +a half to school. +</P> + +<P> +Her first experimental attempt at martyrdom had not been a +distinguished success. She had stayed at home from the Sunday-school +concert, a function of which, in ignorance of more alluring ones, she +was extremely fond. As a result of her desertion, two infants who +relied upon her to prompt them (she knew the verses of all the children +better than they did themselves) broke down ignominiously. The class to +which she belonged had to read a difficult chapter of Scripture in +rotation, and the various members spent an arduous Sabbath afternoon +counting out verses according to their seats in the pew, and practicing +the ones that would inevitably fall to them. They were too ignorant to +realize, when they were called upon, that Rebecca's absence would make +everything come wrong, and the blow descended with crushing force when +the Jebusites and Amorites, the Girgashites, Hivites, and Perizzites +had to be pronounced by the persons of all others least capable of +grappling with them. +</P> + +<P> +Self-punishment, then, to be adequate and proper, must begin, like +charity, at home, and unlike charity should end there too. Rebecca +looked about the room vaguely as she sat by the window. She must give +up something, and truth to tell she possessed little to give, hardly +anything but—yes, that would do, the beloved pink parasol. She could +not hide it in the attic, for in some moment of weakness she would be +sure to take it out again. She feared she had not the moral energy to +break it into bits. Her eyes moved from the parasol to the apple-trees +in the side yard, and then fell to the well curb. That would do; she +would fling her dearest possession into the depths of the water. Action +followed quickly upon decision, as usual. She slipped down in the +darkness, stole out the front door, approached the place of sacrifice, +lifted the cover of the well, gave one unresigned shudder, and flung +the parasol downward with all her force. At the crucial instant of +renunciation she was greatly helped by the reflection that she closely +resembled the heathen mothers who cast their babes to the crocodiles in +the Ganges. +</P> + +<P> +She slept well and arose refreshed, as a consecrated spirit always +should and sometimes does. But there was great difficulty in drawing +water after breakfast. Rebecca, chastened and uplifted, had gone to +school. Abijah Flagg was summoned, lifted the well cover, explored, +found the inciting cause of trouble, and with the help of Yankee wit +succeeded in removing it. The fact was that the ivory hook of the +parasol had caught in the chain gear, and when the first attempt at +drawing water was made, the little offering of a contrite heart was +jerked up, bent, its strong ribs jammed into the well side, and +entangled with a twig root. It is needless to say that no +sleight-of-hand performer, however expert, unless aided by the powers +of darkness, could have accomplished this feat; but a luckless child in +the pursuit of virtue had done it with a turn of the wrist. +</P> + +<P> +We will draw a veil over the scene that occurred after Rebecca's return +from school. You who read may be well advanced in years, you may be +gifted in rhetoric, ingenious in argument; but even you might quail at +the thought of explaining the tortuous mental processes that led you +into throwing your beloved pink parasol into Miranda Sawyer's well. +Perhaps you feel equal to discussing the efficacy of spiritual +self-chastisement with a person who closes her lips into a thin line +and looks at you out of blank, uncomprehending eyes! Common sense, +right, and logic were all arrayed on Miranda's side. When poor Rebecca, +driven to the wall, had to avow the reasons lying behind the sacrifice +of the sunshade, her aunt said, "Now see here, Rebecca, you're too big +to be whipped, and I shall never whip you; but when you think you ain't +punished enough, just tell me, and I'll make out to invent a little +something more. I ain't so smart as some folks, but I can do that much; +and whatever it is, it'll be something that won't punish the whole +family, and make 'em drink ivory dust, wood chips, and pink silk rags +with their water." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap13"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +XIII +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +SNOW-WHITE; ROSE-RED +</H3> + +<P> +Just before Thanksgiving the affairs of the Simpsons reached what might +have been called a crisis, even in their family, which had been born +and reared in a state of adventurous poverty and perilous uncertainty. +</P> + +<P> +Riverboro was doing its best to return the entire tribe of Simpsons to +the land of its fathers, so to speak, thinking rightly that the town +which had given them birth, rather than the town of their adoption, +should feed them and keep a roof over their heads until the children +were of an age for self-support. There was little to eat in the +household and less to wear, though Mrs. Simpson did, as always, her +poor best. The children managed to satisfy their appetites by sitting +modestly outside their neighbors' kitchen doors when meals were about +to be served. They were not exactly popular favorites, but they did +receive certain undesirable morsels from the more charitable housewives. +</P> + +<P> +Life was rather dull and dreary, however, and in the chill and gloom of +November weather, with the vision of other people's turkeys bursting +with fat, and other people's golden pumpkins and squashes and corn +being garnered into barns, the young Simpsons groped about for some +inexpensive form of excitement, and settled upon the selling of soap +for a premium. They had sold enough to their immediate neighbors during +the earlier autumn to secure a child's handcart, which, though very +weak on its pins, could be trundled over the country roads. With large +business sagacity and an executive capacity which must have been +inherited from their father, they now proposed to extend their +operations to a larger area and distribute soap to contiguous villages, +if these villages could be induced to buy. The Excelsior Soap Company +paid a very small return of any kind to its infantile agents, who were +scattered through the state, but it inflamed their imaginations by the +issue of circulars with highly colored pictures of the premiums to be +awarded for the sale of a certain number of cakes. It was at this +juncture that Clara Belle and Susan Simpson consulted Rebecca, who +threw herself solidly and wholeheartedly into the enterprise, promising +her help and that of Emma Jane Perkins. The premiums within their +possible grasp were three: a bookcase, a plush reclining chair, and a +banquet lamp. Of course the Simpsons had no books, and casting aside, +without thought or pang, the plush chair, which might have been of some +use in a family of seven persons (not counting Mr. Simpson, who +ordinarily sat elsewhere at the town's expense), they warmed themselves +rapturously in the vision of the banquet lamp, which speedily became to +them more desirable than food, drink, or clothing. Neither Emma Jane +nor Rebecca perceived anything incongruous in the idea of the Simpsons +striving for a banquet lamp. They looked at the picture daily and knew +that if they themselves were free agents they would toil, suffer, ay +sweat, for the happy privilege of occupying the same room with that +lamp through the coming winter evenings. It looked to be about eight +feet tall in the catalogue, and Emma Jane advised Clara Belle to +measure the height of the Simpson ceilings; but a note in the margin of +the circular informed them that it stood two and a half feet high when +set up in all its dignity and splendor on a proper table, three dollars +extra. It was only of polished brass, continued the circular, though it +was invariably mistaken for solid gold, and the shade that accompanied +it (at least it accompanied it if the agent sold a hundred extra cakes) +was of crinkled crepe paper printed in a dozen delicious hues, from +which the joy-dazzled agent might take his choice. +</P> + +<P> +Seesaw Simpson was not in the syndicate. Clara Belle was rather a +successful agent, but Susan, who could only say "thoap," never made +large returns, and the twins, who were somewhat young to be thoroughly +trustworthy, could be given only a half dozen cakes at a time, and were +obliged to carry with them on their business trips a brief document +stating the price per cake, dozen, and box. Rebecca and Emma Jane +offered to go two or three miles in some one direction and see what +they could do in the way of stirring up a popular demand for the +Snow-White and Rose-Red brands, the former being devoted to laundry +purposes and the latter being intended for the toilet. +</P> + +<P> +There was a great amount of hilarity in the preparation for this event, +and a long council in Emma Jane's attic. They had the soap company's +circular from which to arrange a proper speech, and they had, what was +still better, the remembrance of a certain patent-medicine vender's +discourse at the Milltown Fair. His method, when once observed, could +never be forgotten; nor his manner, nor his vocabulary. Emma Jane +practiced it on Rebecca, and Rebecca on Emma Jane. +</P> + +<P> +"Can I sell you a little soap this afternoon? It is called the +Snow-White and Rose-Red Soap, six cakes in an ornamental box, only +twenty cents for the white, twenty-five cents for the red. It is made +from the purest ingredients, and if desired could be eaten by an +invalid with relish and profit." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Rebecca, don't let's say that!" interposed Emma Jane hysterically. +"It makes me feel like a fool." +</P> + +<P> +"It takes so little to make you feel like a fool, Emma Jane," rebuked +Rebecca, "that sometimes I think that you must BE one. I don't get to +feeling like a fool so awfully easy; now leave out that eating part if +you don't like it, and go on." +</P> + +<P> +"The Snow-White is probably the most remarkable laundry soap ever +manufactured. Immerse the garments in a tub, lightly rubbing the more +soiled portions with the soap; leave them submerged in water from +sunset to sunrise, and then the youngest baby can wash them without the +slightest effort." +</P> + +<P> +"BABE, not baby," corrected Rebecca from the circular. +</P> + +<P> +"It's just the same thing," argued Emma Jane. +</P> + +<P> +"Of course it's just the same THING; but a baby has got to be called +babe or infant in a circular, the same as it is in poetry! Would you +rather say infant?" +</P> + +<P> +"No," grumbled Emma Jane; "infant is worse even than babe. Rebecca, do +you think we'd better do as the circular says, and let Elijah or Elisha +try the soap before we begin selling?" +</P> + +<P> +"I can't imagine a babe doing a family wash with ANY soap," answered +Rebecca; "but it must be true or they would never dare to print it, so +don't let's bother. Oh! won't it be the greatest fun, Emma Jane? At +some of the houses—where they can't possibly know me—I shan't be +frightened, and I shall reel off the whole rigmarole, invalid, babe, +and all. Perhaps I shall say even the last sentence, if I can remember +it: 'We sound every chord in the great mac-ro-cosm of satisfaction." +</P> + +<P> +This conversation took place on a Friday afternoon at Emma Jane's +house, where Rebecca, to her unbounded joy, was to stay over Sunday, +her aunts having gone to Portland to the funeral of an old friend. +Saturday being a holiday, they were going to have the old white horse, +drive to North Riverboro three miles away, eat a twelve o'clock dinner +with Emma Jane's cousins, and be back at four o'clock punctually. +</P> + +<P> +When the children asked Mrs. Perkins if they could call at just a few +houses coming and going, and sell a little soap for the Simpsons, she +at first replied decidedly in the negative. She was an indulgent +parent, however, and really had little objection to Emma Jane amusing +herself in this unusual way; it was only for Rebecca, as the niece of +the difficult Miranda Sawyer, that she raised scruples; but when fully +persuaded that the enterprise was a charitable one, she acquiesced. +</P> + +<P> +The girls called at Mr. Watson's store, and arranged for several large +boxes of soap to be charged to Clara Belle Simpson's account. These +were lifted into the back of the wagon, and a happier couple never +drove along the country road than Rebecca and her companion. It was a +glorious Indian summer day, which suggested nothing of Thanksgiving, +near at hand as it was. It was a rustly day, a scarlet and buff, yellow +and carmine, bronze and crimson day. There were still many leaves on +the oaks and maples, making a goodly show of red and brown and gold. +The air was like sparkling cider, and every field had its heaps of +yellow and russet good things to eat, all ready for the barns, the +mills, and the markets. The horse forgot his twenty years, sniffed the +sweet bright air, and trotted like a colt; Nokomis Mountain looked blue +and clear in the distance; Rebecca stood in the wagon, and +apostrophized the landscape with sudden joy of living:— +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + "Great, wide, beautiful, wonderful World,<BR> + With the wonderful water round you curled,<BR> + And the wonderful grass upon your breast,<BR> + World, you are beautifully drest!"<BR> +</P> + +<P> +Dull Emma Jane had never seemed to Rebecca so near, so dear, so tried +and true; and Rebecca, to Emma Jane's faithful heart, had never been so +brilliant, so bewildering, so fascinating, as in this visit together, +with its intimacy, its freedom, and the added delights of an exciting +business enterprise. +</P> + +<P> +A gorgeous leaf blew into the wagon. +</P> + +<P> +"Does color make you sort of dizzy?" asked Rebecca. +</P> + +<P> +"No," answered Emma Jane after a long pause; "no, it don't; not a mite." +</P> + +<P> +"Perhaps dizzy isn't just the right word, but it's nearest. I'd like to +eat color, and drink it, and sleep in it. If you could be a tree, which +one would you choose?" +</P> + +<P> +Emma Jane had enjoyed considerable experience of this kind, and Rebecca +had succeeded in unstopping her ears, ungluing her eyes, and loosening +her tongue, so that she could "play the game" after a fashion. +</P> + +<P> +"I'd rather be an apple-tree in blossom,—that one that blooms pink, by +our pig-pen." +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca laughed. There was always something unexpected in Emma Jane's +replies. "I'd choose to be that scarlet maple just on the edge of the +pond there,"—and she pointed with the whip. "Then I could see so much +more than your pink apple-tree by the pig-pen. I could look at all the +rest of the woods, see my scarlet dress in my beautiful looking-glass, +and watch all the yellow and brown trees growing upside down in the +water. When I'm old enough to earn money, I'm going to have a dress +like this leaf, all ruby color—thin, you know, with a sweeping train +and ruffly, curly edges; then I think I'll have a brown sash like the +trunk of the tree, and where could I be green? Do they have green +petticoats, I wonder? I'd like a green petticoat coming out now and +then underneath to show what my leaves were like before I was a scarlet +maple." +</P> + +<P> +"I think it would be awful homely," said Emma Jane. "I'm going to have +a white satin with a pink sash, pink stockings, bronze slippers, and a +spangled fan." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap14"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +XIV +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +MR. ALADDIN +</H3> + +<P> +A single hour's experience of the vicissitudes incident to a business +career clouded the children's spirits just the least bit. They did not +accompany each other to the doors of their chosen victims, feeling sure +that together they could not approach the subject seriously; but they +parted at the gate of each house, the one holding the horse while the +other took the soap samples and interviewed any one who seemed of a +coming-on disposition. Emma Jane had disposed of three single cakes, +Rebecca of three small boxes; for a difference in their ability to +persuade the public was clearly defined at the start, though neither of +them ascribed either success or defeat to anything but the imperious +force of circumstances. Housewives looked at Emma Jane and desired no +soap; listened to her description of its merits, and still desired +none. Other stars in their courses governed Rebecca's doings. The +people whom she interviewed either remembered their present need of +soap, or reminded themselves that they would need it in the future; the +notable point in the case being that lucky Rebecca accomplished, with +almost no effort, results that poor little Emma Jane failed to attain +by hard and conscientious labor. +</P> + +<P> +"It's your turn, Rebecca, and I'm glad, too," said Emma Jane, drawing +up to a gateway and indicating a house that was set a considerable +distance from the road. "I haven't got over trembling from the last +place yet." (A lady had put her head out of an upstairs window and +called, "Go away, little girl; whatever you have in your box we don't +want any.") "I don't know who lives here, and the blinds are all shut +in front. If there's nobody at home you mustn't count it, but take the +next house as yours." +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca walked up the lane and went to the side door. There was a porch +there, and seated in a rocking-chair, husking corn, was a good-looking +young man, or was he middle aged? Rebecca could not make up her mind. +At all events he had an air of the city about him,—well-shaven face, +well-trimmed mustache, well-fitting clothes. Rebecca was a trifle shy +at this unexpected encounter, but there was nothing to be done but +explain her presence, so she asked, "Is the lady of the house at home?" +</P> + +<P> +"I am the lady of the house at present," said the stranger, with a +whimsical smile. "What can I do for you?" +</P> + +<P> +"Have you ever heard of the—would you like, or I mean—do you need any +soap?" queried Rebecca. +</P> + +<P> +"Do I look as if I did?" he responded unexpectedly. +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca dimpled. "I didn't mean THAT; I have some soap to sell; I mean +I would like to introduce to you a very remarkable soap, the best now +on the market. It is called the"— +</P> + +<P> +"Oh! I must know that soap," said the gentleman genially. "Made out of +pure vegetable fats, isn't it?" +</P> + +<P> +"The very purest," corroborated Rebecca. +</P> + +<P> +"No acid in it?" +</P> + +<P> +"Not a trace." +</P> + +<P> +"And yet a child could do the Monday washing with it and use no force." +</P> + +<P> +"A babe," corrected Rebecca +</P> + +<P> +"Oh! a babe, eh? That child grows younger every year, instead of +older—wise child!" +</P> + +<P> +This was great good fortune, to find a customer who knew all the +virtues of the article in advance. Rebecca dimpled more and more, and +at her new friend's invitation sat down on a stool at his side near the +edge of the porch. The beauties of the ornamental box which held the +Rose-Red were disclosed, and the prices of both that and the Snow-White +were unfolded. Presently she forgot all about her silent partner at the +gate and was talking as if she had known this grand personage all her +life. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm keeping house to-day, but I don't live here," explained the +delightful gentleman. "I'm just on a visit to my aunt, who has gone to +Portland. I used to be here as a boy and I am very fond of the spot." +</P> + +<P> +"I don't think anything takes the place of the farm where one lived +when one was a child," observed Rebecca, nearly bursting with pride at +having at last successfully used the indefinite pronoun in general +conversation. +</P> + +<P> +The man darted a look at her and put down his ear of corn. "So you +consider your childhood a thing of the past, do you, young lady?" +</P> + +<P> +"I can still remember it," answered Rebecca gravely, "though it seems a +long time ago." +</P> + +<P> +"I can remember mine well enough, and a particularly unpleasant one it +was," said the stranger. +</P> + +<P> +"So was mine," sighed Rebecca. "What was your worst trouble?" +</P> + +<P> +"Lack of food and clothes principally." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh!" exclaimed Rebecca sympathetically,—"mine was no shoes and too +many babies and not enough books. But you're all right and happy now, +aren't you?" she asked doubtfully, for though he looked handsome, +well-fed, and prosperous, any child could see that his eyes were tired +and his mouth was sad when he was not speaking. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm doing pretty well, thank you," said the man, with a delightful +smile. "Now tell me, how much soap ought I to buy to-day?" +</P> + +<P> +"How much has your aunt on hand now?" suggested the very modest and +inexperienced agent; "and how much would she need?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I don't know about that; soap keeps, doesn't it?" +</P> + +<P> +"I'm not certain," said Rebecca conscientiously, "but I'll look in the +circular—it's sure to tell;" and she drew the document from her pocket. +</P> + +<P> +"What are you going to do with the magnificent profits you get from +this business?" +</P> + +<P> +"We are not selling for our own benefit," said Rebecca confidentially. +"My friend who is holding the horse at the gate is the daughter of a +very rich blacksmith, and doesn't need any money. I am poor, but I live +with my aunts in a brick house, and of course they wouldn't like me to +be a peddler. We are trying to get a premium for some friends of ours." +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca had never thought of alluding to the circumstances with her +previous customers, but unexpectedly she found herself describing Mr. +Simpson, Mrs. Simpson, and the Simpson family; their poverty, their +joyless life, and their abject need of a banquet lamp to brighten their +existence. +</P> + +<P> +"You needn't argue that point," laughed the man, as he stood up to get +a glimpse of the "rich blacksmith's daughter" at the gate. "I can see +that they ought to have it if they want it, and especially if you want +them to have it. I've known what it was myself to do without a banquet +lamp. Now give me the circular, and let's do some figuring. How much do +the Simpsons lack at this moment?" +</P> + +<P> +"If they sell two hundred more cakes this month and next, they can have +the lamp by Christmas," Rebecca answered, "and they can get a shade by +summer time; but I'm afraid I can't help very much after to-day, +because my aunt Miranda may not like to have me." +</P> + +<P> +"I see. Well, that's all right. I'll take three hundred cakes, and that +will give them shade and all." +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca had been seated on a stool very near to the edge of the porch, +and at this remark she made a sudden movement, tipped over, and +disappeared into a clump of lilac bushes. It was a very short distance, +fortunately, and the amused capitalist picked her up, set her on her +feet, and brushed her off. "You should never seem surprised when you +have taken a large order," said he; "you ought to have replied 'Can't +you make it three hundred and fifty?' instead of capsizing in that +unbusinesslike way." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I could never say anything like that!" exclaimed Rebecca, who was +blushing crimson at her awkward fall. "But it doesn't seem right for +you to buy so much. Are you sure you can afford it?" +</P> + +<P> +"If I can't, I'll save on something else," returned the jocose +philanthropist. +</P> + +<P> +"What if your aunt shouldn't like the kind of soap?" queried Rebecca +nervously. +</P> + +<P> +"My aunt always likes what I like," he returned +</P> + +<P> +"Mine doesn't!" exclaimed Rebecca +</P> + +<P> +"Then there's something wrong with your aunt!" +</P> + +<P> +"Or with me," laughed Rebecca. +</P> + +<P> +"What is your name, young lady?" +</P> + +<P> +"Rebecca Rowena Randall, sir." +</P> + +<P> +"What?" with an amused smile. "BOTH? Your mother was generous." +</P> + +<P> +"She couldn't bear to give up either of the names she says." +</P> + +<P> +"Do you want to hear my name?" +</P> + +<P> +"I think I know already," answered Rebecca, with a bright glance. "I'm +sure you must be Mr. Aladdin in the Arabian Nights. Oh, please, can I +run down and tell Emma Jane? She must be so tired waiting, and she will +be so glad!" +</P> + +<P> +At the man's nod of assent Rebecca sped down the lane, crying +irrepressibly as she neared the wagon, "Oh, Emma Jane! Emma Jane! we +are sold out!" +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Aladdin followed smilingly to corroborate this astonishing, +unbelievable statement; lifted all their boxes from the back of the +wagon, and taking the circular, promised to write to the Excelsior +Company that night concerning the premium. +</P> + +<P> +"If you could contrive to keep a secret,—you two little girls,—it +would be rather a nice surprise to have the lamp arrive at the +Simpsons' on Thanksgiving Day, wouldn't it?" he asked, as he tucked the +old lap robe cosily over their feet. +</P> + +<P> +They gladly assented, and broke into a chorus of excited thanks during +which tears of joy stood in Rebecca's eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, don't mention it!" laughed Mr. Aladdin, lifting his hat. "I was a +sort of commercial traveler myself once,—years ago,—and I like to see +the thing well done. Good-by Miss Rebecca Rowena! Just let me know +whenever you have anything to sell, for I'm certain beforehand I shall +want it." +</P> + +<P> +"Good-by, Mr. Aladdin! I surely will!" cried Rebecca, tossing back her +dark braids delightedly and waving her hand. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Rebecca!" said Emma Jane in an awe-struck whisper. "He raised his +hat to us, and we not thirteen! It'll be five years before we're +ladies." +</P> + +<P> +"Never mind," answered Rebecca; "we are the BEGINNINGS of ladies, even +now." +</P> + +<P> +"He tucked the lap robe round us, too," continued Emma Jane, in an +ecstasy of reminiscence. "Oh! isn't he perfectly elergant? And wasn't +it lovely of him to buy us out? And just think of having both the lamp +and the shade for one day's work! Aren't you glad you wore your pink +gingham now, even if mother did make you put on flannel underneath? You +do look so pretty in pink and red, Rebecca, and so homely in drab and +brown!" +</P> + +<P> +"I know it," sighed Rebecca "I wish I was like you—pretty in all +colors!" And Rebecca looked longingly at Emma Jane's fat, rosy cheeks; +at her blue eyes, which said nothing; at her neat nose, which had no +character; at her red lips, from between which no word worth listening +to had ever issued. +</P> + +<P> +"Never mind!" said Emma Jane comfortingly. "Everybody says you're awful +bright and smart, and mother thinks you'll be better looking all the +time as you grow older. You wouldn't believe it, but I was a dreadful +homely baby, and homely right along till just a year or two ago, when +my red hair began to grow dark. What was the nice man's name?" +</P> + +<P> +"I never thought to ask!" ejaculated Rebecca. "Aunt Miranda would say +that was just like me, and it is. But I called him Mr. Aladdin because +he gave us a lamp. You know the story of Aladdin and the wonderful +lamp?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Rebecca! how could you call him a nickname the very first time you +ever saw him?" +</P> + +<P> +"Aladdin isn't a nickname exactly; anyway, he laughed and seemed to +like it." +</P> + +<P> +By dint of superhuman effort, and putting such a seal upon their lips +as never mortals put before, the two girls succeeded in keeping their +wonderful news to themselves; although it was obvious to all beholders +that they were in an extraordinary and abnormal state of mind. +</P> + +<P> +On Thanksgiving the lamp arrived in a large packing box, and was taken +out and set up by Seesaw Simpson, who suddenly began to admire and +respect the business ability of his sisters. Rebecca had heard the news +of its arrival, but waited until nearly dark before asking permission +to go to the Simpsons', so that she might see the gorgeous trophy +lighted and sending a blaze of crimson glory through its red crepe +paper shade. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap15"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +XV +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE BANQUET LAMP +</H3> + +<P> +There had been company at the brick house to the bountiful Thanksgiving +dinner which had been provided at one o'clock,—the Burnham sisters, +who lived between North Riverboro and Shaker Village, and who for more +than a quarter of a century had come to pass the holiday with the +Sawyers every year. Rebecca sat silent with a book after the dinner +dishes were washed, and when it was nearly five asked if she might go +to the Simpsons'. +</P> + +<P> +"What do you want to run after those Simpson children for on a +Thanksgiving Day?" queried Miss Miranda. "Can't you set still for once +and listen to the improvin' conversation of your elders? You never can +let well enough alone, but want to be forever on the move." +</P> + +<P> +"The Simpsons have a new lamp, and Emma Jane and I promised to go up +and see it lighted, and make it a kind of a party." +</P> + +<P> +"What under the canopy did they want of a lamp, and where did they get +the money to pay for it? If Abner was at home, I should think he'd been +swappin' again," said Miss Miranda. +</P> + +<P> +"The children got it as a prize for selling soap," replied Rebecca; +"they've been working for a year, and you know I told you that Emma +Jane and I helped them the Saturday afternoon you were in Portland." +</P> + +<P> +"I didn't take notice, I s'pose, for it's the first time I ever heard +the lamp mentioned. Well, you can go for an hour, and no more. Remember +it's as dark at six as it is at midnight Would you like to take along +some Baldwin apples? What have you got in the pocket of that new dress +that makes it sag down so?" +</P> + +<P> +"It's my nuts and raisins from dinner," replied Rebecca, who never +succeeded in keeping the most innocent action a secret from her aunt +Miranda; "they're just what you gave me on my plate." +</P> + +<P> +"Why didn't you eat them?" +</P> + +<P> +"Because I'd had enough dinner, and I thought if I saved these, it +would make the Simpsons' party better," stammered Rebecca, who hated to +be scolded and examined before company. +</P> + +<P> +"They were your own, Rebecca," interposed aunt Jane, "and if you chose +to save them to give away, it is all right. We ought never to let this +day pass without giving our neighbors something to be thankful for, +instead of taking all the time to think of our own mercies." +</P> + +<P> +The Burnham sisters nodded approvingly as Rebecca went out, and +remarked that they had never seen a child grow and improve so fast in +so short a time. +</P> + +<P> +"There's plenty of room left for more improvement, as you'd know if she +lived in the same house with you," answered Miranda. "She's into every +namable thing in the neighborhood, an' not only into it, but generally +at the head an' front of it, especially when it's mischief. Of all the +foolishness I ever heard of, that lamp beats everything; it's just like +those Simpsons, but I didn't suppose the children had brains enough to +sell anything." +</P> + +<P> +"One of them must have," said Miss Ellen Burnham, "for the girl that +was selling soap at the Ladds' in North Riverboro was described by Adam +Ladd as the most remarkable and winning child he ever saw." +</P> + +<P> +"It must have been Clara Belle, and I should never call her +remarkable," answered Miss Miranda. "Has Adam been home again?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, he's been staying a few days with his aunt. There's no limit to +the money he's making, they say; and he always brings presents for all +the neighbors. This time it was a full set of furs for Mrs. Ladd; and +to think we can remember the time he was a barefoot boy without two +shirts to his back! It is strange he hasn't married, with all his +money, and him so fond of children that he always has a pack of them at +his heels." +</P> + +<P> +"There's hope for him still, though," said Miss Jane smilingly; "for I +don't s'pose he's more than thirty." +</P> + +<P> +"He could get a wife in Riverboro if he was a hundred and thirty," +remarked Miss Miranda. +</P> + +<P> +"Adam's aunt says he was so taken with the little girl that sold the +soap (Clara Belle, did you say her name was?), that he declared he was +going to bring her a Christmas present," continued Miss Ellen. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, there's no accountin' for tastes," exclaimed Miss Miranda. +"Clara Belle's got cross-eyes and red hair, but I'd be the last one to +grudge her a Christmas present; the more Adam Ladd gives to her the +less the town'll have to." +</P> + +<P> +"Isn't there another Simpson girl?" asked Miss Lydia Burnham; "for this +one couldn't have been cross-eyed; I remember Mrs. Ladd saying Adam +remarked about this child's handsome eyes. He said it was her eyes that +made him buy the three hundred cakes. Mrs. Ladd has it stacked up in +the shed chamber." +</P> + +<P> +"Three hundred cakes!" ejaculated Miranda. "Well, there's one crop that +never fails in Riverboro!" +</P> + +<P> +"What's that?" asked Miss Lydia politely. +</P> + +<P> +"The fool crop," responded Miranda tersely, and changed the subject, +much to Jane's gratitude, for she had been nervous and ill at ease for +the last fifteen minutes. What child in Riverboro could be described as +remarkable and winning, save Rebecca? What child had wonderful eyes, +except the same Rebecca? and finally, was there ever a child in the +world who could make a man buy soap by the hundred cakes, save Rebecca? +</P> + +<P> +Meantime the "remarkable" child had flown up the road in the deepening +dusk, but she had not gone far before she heard the sound of hurrying +footsteps, and saw a well-known figure coming in her direction. In a +moment she and Emma Jane met and exchanged a breathless embrace. +</P> + +<P> +"Something awful has happened," panted Emma Jane. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't tell me it's broken," exclaimed Rebecca. +</P> + +<P> +"No! oh, no! not that! It was packed in straw, and every piece came out +all right; and I was there, and I never said a single thing about your +selling the three hundred cakes that got the lamp, so that we could be +together when you told." +</P> + +<P> +"OUR selling the three hundred cakes," corrected Rebecca; "you did as +much as I." +</P> + +<P> +"No, I didn't, Rebecca Randall. I just sat at the gate and held the +horse." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, but WHOSE horse was it that took us to North Riverboro? And +besides, it just happened to be my turn. If you had gone in and found +Mr. Aladdin you would have had the wonderful lamp given to you; but +what's the trouble?" +</P> + +<P> +"The Simpsons have no kerosene and no wicks. I guess they thought a +banquet lamp was something that lighted itself, and burned without any +help. Seesaw has gone to the doctor's to try if he can borrow a wick, +and mother let me have a pint of oil, but she says she won't give me +any more. We never thought of the expense of keeping up the lamp, +Rebecca." +</P> + +<P> +"No, we didn't, but let's not worry about that till after the party. I +have a handful of nuts and raisins and some apples." +</P> + +<P> +"I have peppermints and maple sugar," said Emma Jane. "They had a real +Thanksgiving dinner; the doctor gave them sweet potatoes and +cranberries and turnips; father sent a spare-rib, and Mrs. Cobb a +chicken and a jar of mince-meat." +</P> + +<P> +At half past five one might have looked in at the Simpsons' windows, +and seen the party at its height. Mrs. Simpson had let the kitchen fire +die out, and had brought the baby to grace the festal scene. The lamp +seemed to be having the party, and receiving the guests. The children +had taken the one small table in the house, and it was placed in the +far corner of the room to serve as a pedestal. On it stood the sacred, +the adored, the long-desired object; almost as beautiful, and nearly +half as large as the advertisement. The brass glistened like gold, and +the crimson paper shade glowed like a giant ruby. In the wide splash of +light that it flung upon the floor sat the Simpsons, in reverent and +solemn silence, Emma Jane standing behind them, hand in hand with +Rebecca. There seemed to be no desire for conversation; the occasion +was too thrilling and serious for that. The lamp, it was tacitly felt +by everybody, was dignifying the party, and providing sufficient +entertainment simply by its presence; being fully as satisfactory in +its way as a pianola or a string band. +</P> + +<P> +"I wish father could see it," said Clara Belle loyally. +</P> + +<P> +"If he onth thaw it he'd want to thwap it," murmured Susan sagaciously. +</P> + +<P> +At the appointed hour Rebecca dragged herself reluctantly away from the +enchanting scene. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll turn the lamp out the minute I think you and Emma Jane are home," +said Clara Belle. "And, oh! I'm so glad you both live where you can see +it shine from our windows. I wonder how long it will burn without bein' +filled if I only keep it lit one hour every night?" +</P> + +<P> +"You needn't put it out for want o' karosene," said Seesaw, coming in +from the shed, "for there's a great kag of it settin' out there. Mr. +Tubbs brought it over from North Riverboro and said somebody sent an +order by mail for it." +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca squeezed Emma Jane's arm, and Emma Jane gave a rapturous return +squeeze. "It was Mr. Aladdin," whispered Rebecca, as they ran down the +path to the gate. Seesaw followed them and handsomely offered to see +them "apiece" down the road, but Rebecca declined his escort with such +decision that he did not press the matter, but went to bed to dream of +her instead. In his dreams flashes of lightning proceeded from both her +eyes, and she held a flaming sword in either hand. +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca entered the home dining-room joyously. The Burnham sisters had +gone and the two aunts were knitting. +</P> + +<P> +"It was a heavenly party," she cried, taking off her hat and cape. +</P> + +<P> +"Go back and see if you have shut the door tight, and then lock it," +said Miss Miranda, in her usual austere manner. +</P> + +<P> +"It was a heavenly party," reiterated Rebecca, coming in again, much +too excited to be easily crushed, "and oh! aunt Jane, aunt Miranda, if +you'll only come into the kitchen and look out of the sink window, you +can see the banquet lamp shining all red, just as if the Simpsons' +house was on fire." +</P> + +<P> +"And probably it will be before long," observed Miranda. "I've got no +patience with such foolish goin's-on." +</P> + +<P> +Jane accompanied Rebecca into the kitchen. Although the feeble glimmer +which she was able to see from that distance did not seem to her a +dazzling exhibition, she tried to be as enthusiastic as possible. +</P> + +<P> +"Rebecca, who was it that sold the three hundred cakes of soap to Mr. +Ladd in North Riverboro?" +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. WHO?" exclaimed Rebecca. +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. Ladd, in North Riverboro." +</P> + +<P> +"Is that his real name?" queried Rebecca in astonishment. "I didn't +make a bad guess;" and she laughed softly to herself. +</P> + +<P> +"I asked you who sold the soap to Adam Ladd?" resumed Miss Jane. +</P> + +<P> +"Adam Ladd! then he's A. Ladd, too; what fun!" +</P> + +<P> +"Answer me, Rebecca." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh! excuse me, aunt Jane, I was so busy thinking. Emma Jane and I sold +the soap to Mr. Ladd." +</P> + +<P> +"Did you tease him, or make him buy it?" +</P> + +<P> +"Now, aunt Jane, how could I make a big grown-up man buy anything if he +didn't want to? He needed the soap dreadfully as a present for his +aunt." +</P> + +<P> +Miss Jane still looked a little unconvinced, though she only said, "I +hope your aunt Miranda won't mind, but you know how particular she is, +Rebecca, and I really wish you wouldn't do anything out of the ordinary +without asking her first, for your actions are very queer." +</P> + +<P> +"There can't be anything wrong this time," Rebecca answered +confidently. "Emma Jane sold her cakes to her own relations and to +uncle Jerry Cobb, and I went first to those new tenements near the +lumber mill, and then to the Ladds'. Mr. Ladd bought all we had and +made us promise to keep the secret until the premium came, and I've +been going about ever since as if the banquet lamp was inside of me all +lighted up and burning, for everybody to see." +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca's hair was loosened and falling over her forehead in ruffled +waves; her eyes were brilliant, her cheeks crimson; there was a hint of +everything in the girl's face,—of sensitiveness and delicacy as well +as of ardor; there was the sweetness of the mayflower and the strength +of the young oak, but one could easily divine that she was one of +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + "The souls by nature pitched too high,<BR> + By suffering plunged too low."<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +"That's just the way you look, for all the world as if you did have a +lamp burning inside of you," sighed aunt Jane. "Rebecca! Rebecca! I +wish you could take things easier, child; I am fearful for you +sometimes." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap16"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +XVI +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +SEASONS OF GROWTH +</H3> + +<P> +The days flew by; as summer had melted into autumn so autumn had given +place to winter. Life in the brick house had gone on more placidly of +late, for Rebecca was honestly trying to be more careful in the +performance of her tasks and duties as well as more quiet in her plays, +and she was slowly learning the power of the soft answer in turning +away wrath. +</P> + +<P> +Miranda had not had, perhaps, quite as many opportunities in which to +lose her temper, but it is only just to say that she had not fully +availed herself of all that had offered themselves. +</P> + +<P> +There had been one outburst of righteous wrath occasioned by Rebecca's +over-hospitable habits, which were later shown in a still more dramatic +and unexpected fashion. +</P> + +<P> +On a certain Friday afternoon she asked her aunt Miranda if she might +take half her bread and milk upstairs to a friend. +</P> + +<P> +"What friend have you got up there, for pity's sake?" demanded aunt +Miranda. +</P> + +<P> +"The Simpson baby, come to stay over Sunday; that is, if you're +willing, Mrs. Simpson says she is. Shall I bring her down and show her? +She's dressed in an old dress of Emma Jane's and she looks sweet." +</P> + +<P> +"You can bring her down, but you can't show her to me! You can smuggle +her out the way you smuggled her in and take her back to her mother. +Where on earth do you get your notions, borrowing a baby for Sunday!" +</P> + +<P> +"You're so used to a house without a baby you don't know how dull it +is," sighed Rebecca resignedly, as she moved towards the door; "but at +the farm there was always a nice fresh one to play with and cuddle. +There were too many, but that's not half as bad as none at all. Well, +I'll take her back. She'll be dreadfully disappointed and so will Mrs. +Simpson. She was planning to go to Milltown." +</P> + +<P> +"She can un-plan then," observed Miss Miranda. +</P> + +<P> +"Perhaps I can go up there and take care of the baby?" suggested +Rebecca. "I brought her home so 't I could do my Saturday work just the +same." +</P> + +<P> +"You've got enough to do right here, without any borrowed babies to +make more steps. Now, no answering back, just give the child some +supper and carry it home where it belongs." +</P> + +<P> +"You don't want me to go down the front way, hadn't I better just come +through this room and let you look at her? She has yellow hair and big +blue eyes! Mrs. Simpson says she takes after her father." +</P> + +<P> +Miss Miranda smiled acidly as she said she couldn't take after her +father, for he'd take any thing there was before she got there! +</P> + +<P> +Aunt Jane was in the linen closet upstairs, sorting out the clean +sheets and pillow cases for Saturday, and Rebecca sought comfort from +her. +</P> + +<P> +"I brought the Simpson baby home, aunt Jane, thinking it would help us +over a dull Sunday, but aunt Miranda won't let her stay. Emma Jane has +the promise of her next Sunday and Alice Robinson the next. Mrs. +Simpson wanted I should have her first because I've had so much +experience in babies. Come in and look at her sitting up in my bed, +aunt Jane! Isn't she lovely? She's the fat, gurgly kind, not thin and +fussy like some babies, and I thought I was going to have her to +undress and dress twice each day. Oh dear! I wish I could have a +printed book with everything set down in it that I COULD do, and then I +wouldn't get disappointed so often." +</P> + +<P> +"No book could be printed that would fit you, Rebecca," answered aunt +Jane, "for nobody could imagine beforehand the things you'd want to do. +Are you going to carry that heavy child home in your arms?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, I'm going to drag her in the little soap-wagon. Come, baby! Take +your thumb out of your mouth and come to ride with Becky in your +go-cart." She stretched out her strong young arms to the crowing baby, +sat down in a chair with the child, turned her upside down +unceremoniously, took from her waistband and scornfully flung away a +crooked pin, walked with her (still in a highly reversed position) to +the bureau, selected a large safety pin, and proceeded to attach her +brief red flannel petticoat to a sort of shirt that she wore. Whether +flat on her stomach, or head down, heels in the air, the Simpson baby +knew she was in the hands of an expert, and continued gurgling placidly +while aunt Jane regarded the pantomime with a kind of dazed awe. +</P> + +<P> +"Bless my soul, Rebecca," she ejaculated, "it beats all how handy you +are with babies!" +</P> + +<P> +"I ought to be; I've brought up three and a half of 'em," Rebecca +responded cheerfully, pulling up the infant Simpson's stockings. +</P> + +<P> +"I should think you'd be fonder of dolls than you are," said Jane. +</P> + +<P> +"I do like them, but there's never any change in a doll; it's always +the same everlasting old doll, and you have to make believe it's cross +or sick, or it loves you, or can't bear you. Babies are more trouble, +but nicer." +</P> + +<P> +Miss Jane stretched out a thin hand with a slender, worn band of gold +on the finger, and the baby curled her dimpled fingers round it and +held it fast. +</P> + +<P> +"You wear a ring on your engagement finger, don't you, aunt Jane? Did +you ever think about getting married?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, dear, long ago." +</P> + +<P> +"What happened, aunt Jane?" +</P> + +<P> +"He died—just before." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh!" And Rebecca's eyes grew misty. +</P> + +<P> +"He was a soldier and he died of a gunshot wound, in a hospital, down +South." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh! aunt Jane!" softly. "Away from you?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, I was with him." +</P> + +<P> +"Was he young?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes; young and brave and handsome, Rebecca; he was Mr. Carter's +brother Tom." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh! I'm so glad you were with him! Wasn't he glad, aunt Jane?" +</P> + +<P> +Jane looked back across the half-forgotten years, and the vision of +Tom's gladness flashed upon her: his haggard smile, the tears in his +tired eyes, his outstretched arms, his weak voice saying, "Oh, Jenny! +Dear Jenny! I've wanted you so, Jenny!" It was too much! She had never +breathed a word of it before to a human creature, for there was no one +who would have understood. Now, in a shamefaced way, to hide her +brimming eyes, she put her head down on the young shoulder beside her, +saying, "It was hard, Rebecca!" +</P> + +<P> +The Simpson baby had cuddled down sleepily in Rebecca's lap, leaning +her head back and sucking her thumb contentedly. Rebecca put her cheek +down until it touched her aunt's gray hair and softly patted her, as +she said, "I'm sorry, aunt Jane!" +</P> + +<P> +The girl's eyes were soft and tender and the heart within her stretched +a little and grew; grew in sweetness and intuition and depth of +feeling. It had looked into another heart, felt it beat, and heard it +sigh; and that is how all hearts grow. +</P> + +<P> +Episodes like these enlivened the quiet course of every-day existence, +made more quiet by the departure of Dick Carter, Living Perkins, and +Huldah Meserve for Wareham, and the small attendance at the winter +school, from which the younger children of the place stayed away during +the cold weather. +</P> + +<P> +Life, however, could never be thoroughly dull or lacking in adventure +to a child of Rebecca's temperament. Her nature was full of +adaptability, fluidity, receptivity. She made friends everywhere she +went, and snatched up acquaintances in every corner. +</P> + +<P> +It was she who ran to the shed door to take the dish to the "meat man" +or "fish man;" she who knew the family histories of the itinerant fruit +venders and tin peddlers; she who was asked to take supper or pass the +night with children in neighboring villages—children of whose parents +her aunts had never so much as heard. As to the nature of these +friendships, which seemed so many to the eye of the superficial +observer, they were of various kinds, and while the girl pursued them +with enthusiasm and ardor, they left her unsatisfied and heart-hungry; +they were never intimacies such as are so readily made by shallow +natures. She loved Emma Jane, but it was a friendship born of +propinquity and circumstance, not of true affinity. It was her +neighbor's amiability, constancy, and devotion that she loved, and +although she rated these qualities at their true value, she was always +searching beyond them for intellectual treasures; searching and never +finding, for although Emma Jane had the advantage in years she was +still immature. Huldah Meserve had an instinctive love of fun which +appealed to Rebecca; she also had a fascinating knowledge of the world, +from having visited her married sisters in Milltown and Portland; but +on the other hand there was a certain sharpness and lack of sympathy in +Huldah which repelled rather than attracted. With Dick Carter she could +at least talk intelligently about lessons. He was a very ambitious boy, +full of plans for his future, which he discussed quite freely with +Rebecca, but when she broached the subject of her future his interest +sensibly lessened. Into the world of the ideal, Emma Jane, Huldah, and +Dick alike never seemed to have peeped, and the consciousness of this +was always a fixed gulf between them and Rebecca. +</P> + +<P> +"Uncle Jerry" and "aunt Sarah" Cobb were dear friends of quite another +sort, a very satisfying and perhaps a somewhat dangerous one. A visit +from Rebecca always sent them into a twitter of delight. Her merry +conversation and quaint comments on life in general fairly dazzled the +old couple, who hung on her lightest word as if it had been a prophet's +utterance; and Rebecca, though she had had no previous experience, +owned to herself a perilous pleasure in being dazzling, even to a +couple of dear humdrum old people like Mr. and Mrs. Cobb. Aunt Sarah +flew to the pantry or cellar whenever Rebecca's slim little shape first +appeared on the crest of the hill, and a jelly tart or a frosted cake +was sure to be forthcoming. The sight of old uncle Jerry's spare figure +in its clean white shirt sleeves, whatever the weather, always made +Rebecca's heart warm when she saw him peer longingly from the kitchen +window. Before the snow came, many was the time he had come out to sit +on a pile of boards at the gate, to see if by any chance she was +mounting the hill that led to their house. In the autumn Rebecca was +often the old man's companion while he was digging potatoes or shelling +beans, and now in the winter, when a younger man was driving the stage, +she sometimes stayed with him while he did his evening milking. It is +safe to say that he was the only creature in Riverboro who possessed +Rebecca's entire confidence; the only being to whom she poured out her +whole heart, with its wealth of hopes, and dreams, and vague ambitions. +At the brick house she practiced scales and exercises, but at the +Cobbs' cabinet organ she sang like a bird, improvising simple +accompaniments that seemed to her ignorant auditors nothing short of +marvelous. Here she was happy, here she was loved, here she was drawn +out of herself and admired and made much of. But, she thought, if there +were somebody who not only loved but understood; who spoke her +language, comprehended her desires, and responded to her mysterious +longings! Perhaps in the big world of Wareham there would be people who +thought and dreamed and wondered as she did. +</P> + +<P> +In reality Jane did not understand her niece very much better than +Miranda; the difference between the sisters was, that while Jane was +puzzled, she was also attracted, and when she was quite in the dark for +an explanation of some quaint or unusual action she was sympathetic as +to its possible motive and believed the best. A greater change had come +over Jane than over any other person in the brick house, but it had +been wrought so secretly, and concealed so religiously, that it +scarcely appeared to the ordinary observer. Life had now a motive +utterly lacking before. Breakfast was not eaten in the kitchen, because +it seemed worth while, now that there were three persons, to lay the +cloth in the dining-room; it was also a more bountiful meal than of +yore, when there was no child to consider. The morning was made +cheerful by Rebecca's start for school, the packing of the luncheon +basket, the final word about umbrella, waterproof, or rubbers; the +parting admonition and the unconscious waiting at the window for the +last wave of the hand. She found herself taking pride in Rebecca's +improved appearance, her rounder throat and cheeks, and her better +color; she was wont to mention the length of Rebecca's hair and add a +word as to its remarkable evenness and lustre, at times when Mrs. +Perkins grew too diffuse about Emma Jane's complexion. She threw +herself wholeheartedly on her niece's side when it became a question +between a crimson or a brown linsey-woolsey dress, and went through a +memorable struggle with her sister concerning the purchase of a red +bird for Rebecca's black felt hat. No one guessed the quiet pleasure +that lay hidden in her heart when she watched the girl's dark head bent +over her lessons at night, nor dreamed of her joy in, certain quiet +evenings when Miranda went to prayer meeting; evenings when Rebecca +would read aloud Hiawatha or Barbara Frietchie, The Bugle Song, or The +Brook. Her narrow, humdrum existence bloomed under the dews that fell +from this fresh spirit; her dullness brightened under the kindling +touch of the younger mind, took fire from the "vital spark of heavenly +flame" that seemed always to radiate from Rebecca's presence. +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca's idea of being a painter like her friend Miss Ross was +gradually receding, owing to the apparently insuperable difficulties in +securing any instruction. Her aunt Miranda saw no wisdom in cultivating +such a talent, and could not conceive that any money could ever be +earned by its exercise, "Hand painted pictures" were held in little +esteem in Riverboro, where the cheerful chromo or the dignified steel +engraving were respected and valued. There was a slight, a very slight +hope, that Rebecca might be allowed a few music lessons from Miss +Morton, who played the church cabinet organ, but this depended entirely +upon whether Mrs. Morton would decide to accept a hayrack in return for +a year's instruction from her daughter. She had the matter under +advisement, but a doubt as to whether or not she would sell or rent her +hayfields kept her from coming to a conclusion. Music, in common with +all other accomplishments, was viewed by Miss Miranda as a trivial, +useless, and foolish amusement, but she allowed Rebecca an hour a day +for practice on the old piano, and a little extra time for lessons, if +Jane could secure them without payment of actual cash. +</P> + +<P> +The news from Sunnybrook Farm was hopeful rather than otherwise. Cousin +Ann's husband had died, and John, Rebecca's favorite brother, had gone +to be the man of the house to the widowed cousin. He was to have good +schooling in return for his care of the horse and cow and barn, and +what was still more dazzling, the use of the old doctor's medical +library of two or three dozen volumes. John's whole heart was set on +becoming a country doctor, with Rebecca to keep house for him, and the +vision seemed now so true, so near, that he could almost imagine his +horse ploughing through snowdrifts on errands of mercy, or, less +dramatic but none the less attractive, could see a physician's neat +turncut trundling along the shady country roads, a medicine case +between his, Dr. Randall's, feet, and Miss Rebecca Randall sitting in a +black silk dress by his side. +</P> + +<P> +Hannah now wore her hair in a coil and her dresses a trifle below her +ankles, these concessions being due to her extreme height. Mark had +broken his collar bone, but it was healing well. Little Mira was +growing very pretty. There was even a rumor that the projected railroad +from Temperance to Plumville might go near the Randall farm, in which +case land would rise in value from nothing-at-all an acre to something +at least resembling a price. Mrs. Randall refused to consider any +improvement in their financial condition as a possibility. Content to +work from sunrise to sunset to gain a mere subsistence for her +children, she lived in their future, not in her own present, as a +mother is wont to do when her own lot seems hard and cheerless. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap17"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +XVII +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +GRAY DAYS AND GOLD +</H3> + +<P> +When Rebecca looked back upon the year or two that followed the +Simpsons' Thanksgiving party, she could see only certain milestones +rising in the quiet pathway of the months. +</P> + +<P> +The first milestone was Christmas Day. It was a fresh, crystal morning, +with icicles hanging like dazzling pendants from the trees and a glaze +of pale blue on the surface of the snow. The Simpsons' red barn stood +out, a glowing mass of color in the white landscape. Rebecca had been +busy for weeks before, trying to make a present for each of the seven +persons at Sunnybrook Farm, a somewhat difficult proceeding on an +expenditure of fifty cents, hoarded by incredible exertion. Success had +been achieved, however, and the precious packet had been sent by post +two days previous. Miss Sawyer had bought her niece a nice gray +squirrel muff and tippet, which was even more unbecoming if possible, +than Rebecca's other articles of wearing apparel; but aunt Jane had +made her the loveliest dress of green cashmere, a soft, soft green like +that of a young leaf. It was very simply made, but the color delighted +the eye. Then there was a beautiful "tatting" collar from her mother, +some scarlet mittens from Mrs. Cobb, and a handkerchief from Emma Jane. +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca herself had fashioned an elaborate tea-cosy with a letter "M" +in outline stitch, and a pretty frilled pincushion marked with a "J," +for her two aunts, so that taken all together the day would have been +an unequivocal success had nothing else happened; but something else +did. +</P> + +<P> +There was a knock at the door at breakfast time, and Rebecca, answering +it, was asked by a boy if Miss Rebecca Randall lived there. On being +told that she did, he handed her a parcel bearing her name, a parcel +which she took like one in a dream and bore into the dining-room. +</P> + +<P> +"It's a present; it must be," she said, looking at it in a dazed sort +of way; "but I can't think who it could be from." +</P> + +<P> +"A good way to find out would be to open it," remarked Miss Miranda. +</P> + +<P> +The parcel being untied proved to have two smaller packages within, and +Rebecca opened with trembling fingers the one addressed to her. +Anybody's fingers would have trembled. There was a case which, when the +cover was lifted, disclosed a long chain of delicate pink coral +beads,—a chain ending in a cross made of coral rosebuds. A card with +"Merry Christmas from Mr. Aladdin" lay under the cross. +</P> + +<P> +"Of all things!" exclaimed the two old ladies, rising in their seats. +"Who sent it?" +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. Ladd," said Rebecca under her breath. +</P> + +<P> +"Adam Ladd! Well I never! Don't you remember Ellen Burnham said he was +going to send Rebecca a Christmas present? But I never supposed he'd +think of it again," said Jane. "What's the other package?" +</P> + +<P> +It proved to be a silver chain with a blue enamel locket on it, marked +for Emma Jane. That added the last touch—to have him remember them +both! There was a letter also, which ran:— +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> + Dear Miss Rebecca Rowena,—My idea of a Christmas present is + something entirely unnecessary and useless. I have always + noticed when I give this sort of thing that people love it, + so I hope I have not chosen wrong for you and your friend. + You must wear your chain this afternoon, please, and let me + see it on your neck, for I am coming over in my new sleigh to + take you both to drive. My aunt is delighted with the soap. +<BR><BR> + Sincerely your friend, +<BR><BR> + Adam Ladd. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, well!" cried Miss Jane, "isn't that kind of him? He's very fond +of children, Lyddy Burnham says. Now eat your breakfast, Rebecca, and +after we've done the dishes you can run over to Emma's and give her her +chain—What's the matter, child?" +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca's emotions seemed always to be stored, as it were, in adjoining +compartments, and to be continually getting mixed. At this moment, +though her joy was too deep for words, her bread and butter almost +choked her, and at intervals a tear stole furtively down her cheek. +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Ladd called as he promised, and made the acquaintance of the aunts, +understanding them both in five minutes as well as if he had known them +for years. On a footstool near the open fire sat Rebecca, silent and +shy, so conscious of her fine apparel and the presence of aunt Miranda +that she could not utter a word. It was one of her "beauty days." +Happiness, excitement, the color of the green dress, and the touch of +lovely pink in the coral necklace had transformed the little brown wren +for the time into a bird of plumage, and Adam Ladd watched her with +evident satisfaction. Then there was the sleigh ride, during which she +found her tongue and chattered like any magpie, and so ended that +glorious Christmas Day; and many and many a night thereafter did +Rebecca go to sleep with the precious coral chain under her pillow, one +hand always upon it to be certain that it was safe. +</P> + +<P> +Another milestone was the departure of the Simpsons from Riverboro, bag +and baggage, the banquet lamp being their most conspicuous possession. +It was delightful to be rid of Seesaw's hateful presence; but otherwise +the loss of several playmates at one fell swoop made rather a gap in +Riverboro's "younger set," and Rebecca was obliged to make friends with +the Robinson baby, he being the only long-clothes child in the village +that winter. The faithful Seesaw had called at the side door of the +brick house on the evening before his departure, and when Rebecca +answered his knock, stammered solemnly, "Can I k-keep comp'ny with you +when you g-g-row up?" "Certainly NOT," replied Rebecca, closing the +door somewhat too speedily upon her precocious swain. +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Simpson had come home in time to move his wife and children back to +the town that had given them birth, a town by no means waiting with +open arms to receive them. The Simpsons' moving was presided over by +the village authorities and somewhat anxiously watched by the entire +neighborhood, but in spite of all precautions a pulpit chair, several +kerosene lamps, and a small stove disappeared from the church and were +successfully swapped in the course of Mr. Simpson's driving tour from +the old home to the new. It gave Rebecca and Emma Jane some hours of +sorrow to learn that a certain village in the wake of Abner Simpson's +line of progress had acquired, through the medium of an ambitious young +minister, a magnificent lamp for its new church parlors. No money +changed hands in the operation; for the minister succeeded in getting +the lamp in return for an old bicycle. The only pleasant feature of the +whole affair was that Mr. Simpson, wholly unable to console his +offspring for the loss of the beloved object, mounted the bicycle and +rode away on it, not to be seen or heard of again for many a long day. +</P> + +<P> +The year was notable also as being the one in which Rebecca shot up +like a young tree. She had seemingly never grown an inch since she was +ten years old, but once started she attended to growing precisely as +she did other things,—with such energy, that Miss Jane did nothing for +months but lengthen skirts, sleeves, and waists. In spite of all the +arts known to a thrifty New England woman, the limit of letting down +and piecing down was reached at last, and the dresses were sent to +Sunnybrook Farm to be made over for Jenny. +</P> + +<P> +There was another milestone, a sad one, marking a little grave under a +willow tree at Sunnybrook Farm. Mira, the baby of the Randall family, +died, and Rebecca went home for a fortnight's visit. The sight of the +small still shape that had been Mira, the baby who had been her special +charge ever since her birth, woke into being a host of new thoughts and +wonderments; for it is sometimes the mystery of death that brings one +to a consciousness of the still greater mystery of life. +</P> + +<P> +It was a sorrowful home-coming for Rebecca. The death of Mira, the +absence of John, who had been her special comrade, the sadness of her +mother, the isolation of the little house, and the pinching economies +that went on within it, all conspired to depress a child who was so +sensitive to beauty and harmony as Rebecca. +</P> + +<P> +Hannah seemed to have grown into a woman during Rebecca's absence. +There had always been a strange unchildlike air about Hannah, but in +certain ways she now appeared older than aunt Jane—soberer, and more +settled. She was pretty, though in a colorless fashion; pretty and +capable. +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca walked through all the old playgrounds and favorite haunts of +her early childhood; all her familiar, her secret places; some of them +known to John, some to herself alone. There was the spot where the +Indian pipes grew; the particular bit of marshy ground where the +fringed gentians used to be largest and bluest; the rock maple where +she found the oriole's nest; the hedge where the field mice lived; the +moss-covered stump where the white toadstools were wont to spring up as +if by magic; the hole at the root of the old pine where an ancient and +honorable toad made his home; these were the landmarks of her +childhood, and she looked at them as across an immeasurable distance. +The dear little sunny brook, her chief companion after John, was sorry +company at this season. There was no laughing water sparkling in the +sunshine. In summer the merry stream had danced over white pebbles on +its way to deep pools where it could be still and think. Now, like +Mira, it was cold and quiet, wrapped in its shroud of snow; but Rebecca +knelt by the brink, and putting her ear to the glaze of ice, fancied, +where it used to be deepest, she could hear a faint, tinkling sound. It +was all right! Sunnybrook would sing again in the spring; perhaps Mira +too would have her singing time somewhere—she wondered where and how. +In the course of these lonely rambles she was ever thinking, thinking, +of one subject. Hannah had never had a chance; never been freed from +the daily care and work of the farm. She, Rebecca, had enjoyed all the +privileges thus far. Life at the brick house had not been by any means +a path of roses, but there had been comfort and the companionship of +other children, as well as chances for study and reading. Riverboro had +not been the world itself, but it had been a glimpse of it through a +tiny peephole that was infinitely better than nothing. Rebecca shed +more than one quiet tear before she could trust herself to offer up as +a sacrifice that which she so much desired for herself. Then one +morning as her visit neared its end she plunged into the subject boldly +and said, "Hannah, after this term I'm going to stay at home and let +you go away. Aunt Miranda has always wanted you, and it's only fair you +should have your turn." +</P> + +<P> +Hannah was darning stockings, and she threaded her needle and snipped +off the yarn before she answered, "No, thank you, Becky. Mother +couldn't do without me, and I hate going to school. I can read and +write and cipher as well as anybody now, and that's enough for me. I'd +die rather than teach school for a living. The winter'll go fast, for +Will Melville is going to lend me his mother's sewing machine, and I'm +going to make white petticoats out of the piece of muslin aunt Jane +sent, and have 'em just solid with tucks. Then there's going to be a +singing-school and a social circle in Temperance after New Year's, and +I shall have a real good time now I'm grown up. I'm not one to be +lonesome, Becky," Hannah ended with a blush; "I love this place." +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca saw that she was speaking the truth, but she did not understand +the blush till a year or two later. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap18"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +XVIII +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +REBECCA REPRESENTS THE FAMILY +</H3> + +<P> +There was another milestone; it was more than that, it was an "event;" +an event that made a deep impression in several quarters and left a +wake of smaller events in its train. This was the coming to Riverboro +of the Reverend Amos Burch and wife, returned missionaries from Syria. +</P> + +<P> +The Aid Society had called its meeting for a certain Wednesday in March +of the year in which Rebecca ended her Riverboro school days and began +her studies at Wareham. It was a raw, blustering day, snow on the +ground and a look in the sky of more to follow. Both Miranda and Jane +had taken cold and decided that they could not leave the house in such +weather, and this deflection from the path of duty worried Miranda, +since she was an officer of the society. After making the breakfast +table sufficiently uncomfortable and wishing plaintively that Jane +wouldn't always insist on being sick at the same time she was, she +decided that Rebecca must go to the meeting in their stead. "You'll be +better than nobody, Rebecca," she said flatteringly; "your aunt Jane +shall write an excuse from afternoon school for you; you can wear your +rubber boots and come home by the way of the meetin' house. This Mr. +Burch, if I remember right, used to know your grandfather Sawyer, and +stayed here once when he was candidatin'. He'll mebbe look for us +there, and you must just go and represent the family, an' give him our +respects. Be careful how you behave. Bow your head in prayer; sing all +the hymns, but not too loud and bold; ask after Mis' Strout's boy; tell +everybody what awful colds we've got; if you see a good chance, take +your pocket handkerchief and wipe the dust off the melodeon before the +meetin' begins, and get twenty-five cents out of the sittin' room +match-box in case there should be a collection." +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca willingly assented. Anything interested her, even a village +missionary meeting, and the idea of representing the family was rather +intoxicating. +</P> + +<P> +The service was held in the Sunday-school room, and although the Rev. +Mr. Burch was on the platform when Rebecca entered, there were only a +dozen persons present. Feeling a little shy and considerably too young +for this assemblage, Rebecca sought the shelter of a friendly face, and +seeing Mrs. Robinson in one of the side seats near the front, she +walked up the aisle and sat beside her. +</P> + +<P> +"Both my aunts had bad colds," she said softly, "and sent me to +represent the family." +</P> + +<P> +"That's Mrs. Burch on the platform with her husband," whispered Mrs. +Robinson. "She's awful tanned up, ain't she? If you're goin' to save +souls seems like you hev' to part with your complexion. Eudoxy Morton +ain't come yet; I hope to the land she will, or Mis' Deacon Milliken'll +pitch the tunes where we can't reach 'em with a ladder; can't you +pitch, afore she gits her breath and clears her throat?" +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Burch was a slim, frail little woman with dark hair, a broad low +forehead, and patient mouth. She was dressed in a well-worn black silk, +and looked so tired that Rebecca's heart went out to her. +</P> + +<P> +"They're poor as Job's turkey," whispered Mrs. Robinson; "but if you +give 'em anything they'd turn right round and give it to the heathen. +His congregation up to Parsonsfield clubbed together and give him that +gold watch he carries; I s'pose he'd 'a' handed that over too, only +heathens always tell time by the sun 'n' don't need watches. Eudoxy +ain't comin'; now for massy's sake, Rebecca, do git ahead of Mis' +Deacon Milliken and pitch real low." +</P> + +<P> +The meeting began with prayer and then the Rev. Mr. Burch announced, to +the tune of Mendon:— +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + "Church of our God I arise and shine,<BR> + Bright with the beams of truth divine:<BR> + Then shall thy radiance stream afar,<BR> + Wide as the heathen nations are.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + "Gentiles and kings thy light shall view,<BR> + And shall admire and love thee too;<BR> + They come, like clouds across the sky,<BR> + As doves that to their windows fly."<BR> +</P> + +<P> +"Is there any one present who will assist us at the instrument?" he +asked unexpectedly. +</P> + +<P> +Everybody looked at everybody else, and nobody moved; then there came a +voice out of a far corner saying informally, "Rebecca, why don't you?" +It was Mrs. Cobb. Rebecca could have played Mendon in the dark, so she +went to the melodeon and did so without any ado, no member of her +family being present to give her self-consciousness. +</P> + +<P> +The talk that ensued was much the usual sort of thing. Mr. Burch made +impassioned appeals for the spreading of the gospel, and added his +entreaties that all who were prevented from visiting in person the +peoples who sat in darkness should contribute liberally to the support +of others who could. But he did more than this. He was a pleasant, +earnest speaker, and he interwove his discourse with stories of life in +a foreign land,—of the manners, the customs, the speech, the point of +view; even giving glimpses of the daily round, the common task, of his +own household, the work of his devoted helpmate and their little group +of children, all born under Syrian skies. +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca sat entranced, having been given the key of another world. +Riverboro had faded; the Sunday-school room, with Mrs. Robinson's red +plaid shawl, and Deacon Milliken's wig, on crooked, the bare benches +and torn hymn-books, the hanging texts and maps, were no longer +visible, and she saw blue skies and burning stars, white turbans and +gay colors; Mr. Burch had not said so, but perhaps there were mosques +and temples and minarets and date-palms. What stories they must know, +those children born under Syrian skies! Then she was called upon to +play "Jesus shall reign where'er the sun." +</P> + +<P> +The contribution box was passed and Mr. Burch prayed. As he opened his +eyes and gave out the last hymn he looked at the handful of people, at +the scattered pennies and dimes in the contribution box, and reflected +that his mission was not only to gather funds for the building of his +church, but to keep alive, in all these remote and lonely +neighborhoods, that love for the cause which was its only hope in the +years to come. +</P> + +<P> +"If any of the sisters will provide entertainment," he said, "Mrs. +Burch and I will remain among you to-night and to-morrow. In that event +we could hold a parlor meeting. My wife and one of my children would +wear the native costume, we would display some specimens of Syrian +handiwork, and give an account of our educational methods with the +children. These informal parlor meetings, admitting of questions or +conversation, are often the means of interesting those not commonly +found at church services so I repeat, if any member of the congregation +desires it and offers her hospitality, we will gladly stay and tell you +more of the Lord's work." +</P> + +<P> +A pall of silence settled over the little assembly. There was some +cogent reason why every "sister" there was disinclined for company. +Some had no spare room, some had a larder less well stocked than usual, +some had sickness in the family, some were "unequally yoked together +with unbelievers" who disliked strange ministers. Mrs. Burch's thin +hands fingered her black silk nervously. "Would no one speak!" thought +Rebecca, her heart fluttering with sympathy. Mrs. Robinson leaned over +and whispered significantly, "The missionaries always used to be +entertained at the brick house; your grandfather never would let 'em +sleep anywheres else when he was alive." She meant this for a stab at +Miss Miranda's parsimony, remembering the four spare chambers, closed +from January to December; but Rebecca thought it was intended as a +suggestion. If it had been a former custom, perhaps her aunts would +want her to do the right thing; for what else was she representing the +family? So, delighted that duty lay in so pleasant a direction, she +rose from her seat and said in the pretty voice and with the quaint +manner that so separated her from all the other young people in the +village, "My aunts, Miss Miranda and Miss Jane Sawyer, would be very +happy to have you visit them at the brick house, as the ministers +always used to do when their father was alive. They sent their respects +by me." The "respects" might have been the freedom of the city, or an +equestrian statue, when presented in this way, and the aunts would have +shuddered could they have foreseen the manner of delivery; but it was +vastly impressive to the audience, who concluded that Mirandy Sawyer +must be making her way uncommonly fast to mansions in the skies, else +what meant this abrupt change of heart? +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Burch bowed courteously, accepted the invitation "in the same +spirit in which it was offered," and asked Brother Milliken to lead in +prayer. +</P> + +<P> +If the Eternal Ear could ever tire it would have ceased long ere this +to listen to Deacon Milliken, who had wafted to the throne of grace the +same prayer, with very slight variations, for forty years. Mrs. Perkins +followed; she had several petitions at her command, good sincere ones +too, but a little cut and dried, made of scripture texts laboriously +woven together. Rebecca wondered why she always ended, at the most +peaceful seasons, with the form, "Do Thou be with us, God of Battles, +while we strive onward like Christian soldiers marching as to war;" but +everything sounded real to her to-day, she was in a devout mood, and +many things Mr. Burch had said had moved her strangely. As she lifted +her head the minister looked directly at her and said, "Will our young +sister close the service by leading us in prayer?" +</P> + +<P> +Every drop of blood in Rebecca's body seemed to stand still, and her +heart almost stopped beating. Mrs. Cobb's excited breathing could be +heard distinctly in the silence. There was nothing extraordinary in Mr. +Burch's request. In his journeyings among country congregations he was +constantly in the habit of meeting young members who had "experienced +religion" and joined the church when nine or ten years old. Rebecca was +now thirteen; she had played the melodeon, led the singing, delivered +her aunts' invitation with an air of great worldly wisdom, and he, +concluding that she must be a youthful pillar of the church, called +upon her with the utmost simplicity. +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca's plight was pathetic. How could she refuse; how could she +explain she was not a "member;" how could she pray before all those +elderly women! John Rogers at the stake hardly suffered more than this +poor child for the moment as she rose to her feet, forgetting that +ladies prayed sitting, while deacons stood in prayer. Her mind was a +maze of pictures that the Rev. Mr. Burch had flung on the screen. She +knew the conventional phraseology, of course; what New England child, +accustomed to Wednesday evening meetings, does not? But her own secret +prayers were different. However, she began slowly and tremulously:— +</P> + +<P CLASS="block"> + "Our Father who art in Heaven, ... Thou art God in Syria + just the same as in Maine; ...over there to-day are blue + skies and yellow stars and burning suns . . . the great trees + are waving in the warm air, while here the snow lies thick + under our feet, ... but no distance is too far for God to + travel and so He is with us here as He is with them there, ... + and our thoughts rise to Him 'as doves that to their + windows fly.' ... +</P> + +<P CLASS="block"> + "We cannot all be missionaries, teaching people to be good, ... + some of us have not learned yet how to be good ourselves, + but if thy kingdom is to come and thy will is to be done on + earth as it is in heaven, everybody must try and everybody + must help, ... those who are old and tired and those who + are young and strong.... The little children of whom we + have heard, those born under Syrian skies, have strange and + interesting work to do for Thee, and some of us would like to + travel in far lands and do wonderful brave things for the + heathen and gently take away their idols of wood and stone. + But perhaps we have to stay at home and do what is given us + to do ... sometimes even things we dislike, ... but that + must be what it means in the hymn we sang, when it talked + about the sweet perfume that rises with every morning + sacrifice.... This is the way that God teaches us to be + meek and patient, and the thought that He has willed it so + should rob us of our fears and help us bear the years. Amen." +</P> + +<P> +Poor little ignorant, fantastic child! Her petition was simply a +succession of lines from the various hymns, and images the minister had +used in his sermon, but she had her own way of recombining and applying +these things, even of using them in a new connection, so that they had +a curious effect of belonging to her. The words of some people might +generally be written with a minus sign after them, the minus meaning +that the personality of the speaker subtracted from, rather than added +to, their weight; but Rebecca's words might always have borne the plus +sign. +</P> + +<P> +The "Amen" said, she sat down, or presumed she sat down, on what she +believed to be a bench, and there was a benediction. In a moment or +two, when the room ceased spinning, she went up to Mrs. Burch, who +kissed her affectionately and said, "My dear, how glad I am that we are +going to stay with you. Will half past five be too late for us to come? +It is three now, and we have to go to the station for our valise and +for our children. We left them there, being uncertain whether we should +go back or stop here." +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca said that half past five was their supper hour, and then +accepted an invitation to drive home with Mrs. Cobb. Her face was +flushed and her lip quivered in a way that aunt Sarah had learned to +know, so the homeward drive was taken almost in silence. The bleak wind +and aunt Sarah's quieting presence brought her back to herself, +however, and she entered the brick house cheerily. Being too full of +news to wait in the side entry to take off her rubber boots, she +carefully lifted a braided rug into the sitting-room and stood on that +while she opened her budget. +</P> + +<P> +"There are your shoes warming by the fire," said aunt Jane. "Slip them +right on while you talk." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap19"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +XIX +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +DEACON ISRAEL'S SUCCESSOR +</H3> + +<P> +"It was a very small meeting, aunt Miranda," began Rebecca, "and the +missionary and his wife are lovely people, and they are coming here to +stay all night and to-morrow with you. I hope you won't mind." +</P> + +<P> +"Coming here!" exclaimed Miranda, letting her knitting fall in her lap, +and taking her spectacles off, as she always did in moments of extreme +excitement. "Did they invite themselves?" +</P> + +<P> +"No," Rebecca answered. "I had to invite them for you; but I thought +you'd like to have such interesting company. It was this way"— +</P> + +<P> +"Stop your explainin', and tell me first when they'll be here. Right +away?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, not for two hours—about half past five." +</P> + +<P> +"Then you can explain, if you can, who gave you any authority to invite +a passel of strangers to stop here over night, when you know we ain't +had any company for twenty years, and don't intend to have any for +another twenty,—or at any rate while I'm the head of the house." +</P> + +<P> +"Don't blame her, Miranda, till you've heard her story," said Jane. "It +was in my mind right along, if we went to the meeting, some such thing +might happen, on account of Mr. Burch knowing father." +</P> + +<P> +"The meeting was a small one," began Rebecca "I gave all your messages, +and everybody was disappointed you couldn't come, for the president +wasn't there, and Mrs. Matthews took the chair, which was a pity, for +the seat wasn't nearly big enough for her, and she reminded me of a +line in a hymn we sang, 'Wide as the heathen nations are,' and she wore +that kind of a beaver garden-hat that always gets on one side. And Mr. +Burch talked beautifully about the Syrian heathen, and the singing went +real well, and there looked to be about forty cents in the basket that +was passed on our side. And that wouldn't save even a heathen baby, +would it? Then Mr. Burch said, if any sister would offer entertainment, +they would pass the night, and have a parlor meeting in Riverboro +to-morrow, with Mrs. Burch in Syrian costume, and lovely foreign things +to show. Then he waited and waited, and nobody said a word. I was so +mortified I didn't know what to do. And then he repeated what he said, +and explained why he wanted to stay, and you could see he thought it was +his duty. Just then Mrs. Robinson whispered to me and said the +missionaries always used to go to the brick house when grandfather was +alive, and that he never would let them sleep anywhere else. I didn't +know you had stopped having them because no traveling ministers have +been here, except just for a Sunday morning, since I came to Riverboro. +So I thought I ought to invite them, as you weren't there to do it for +yourself, and you told me to represent the family." +</P> + +<P> +"What did you do—go up and introduce yourself as folks was goin' out?" +</P> + +<P> +"No; I stood right up in meeting. I had to, for Mr. Burch's feelings +were getting hurt at nobody's speaking. So I said, 'My aunts, Miss +Miranda and Miss Jane Sawyer would be happy to have you visit at the +brick house, just as the missionaries always did when their father was +alive, and they sent their respects by me.' Then I sat down; and Mr. +Burch prayed for grandfather, and called him a man of God, and thanked +our Heavenly Father that his spirit was still alive in his descendants +(that was you), and that the good old house where so many of the +brethren had been cheered and helped, and from which so many had gone +out strengthened for the fight, was still hospitably open for the +stranger and wayfarer." +</P> + +<P> +Sometimes, when the heavenly bodies are in just the right conjunction, +nature seems to be the most perfect art. The word or the deed coming +straight from the heart, without any thought of effect, seems inspired. +</P> + +<P> +A certain gateway in Miranda Sawyer's soul had been closed for years; +not all at once had it been done, but gradually, and without her full +knowledge. If Rebecca had plotted for days, and with the utmost +cunning, she could not have effected an entrance into that forbidden +country, and now, unknown to both of them, the gate swung on its stiff +and rusty hinges, and the favoring wind of opportunity opened it wider +and wider as time went on. All things had worked together amazingly for +good. The memory of old days had been evoked, and the daily life of a +pious and venerated father called to mind; the Sawyer name had been +publicly dignified and praised; Rebecca had comported herself as the +granddaughter of Deacon Israel Sawyer should, and showed conclusively +that she was not "all Randall," as had been supposed. Miranda was +rather mollified by and pleased with the turn of events, although she +did not intend to show it, or give anybody any reason to expect that +this expression of hospitality was to serve for a precedent on any +subsequent occasion. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I see you did only what you was obliged to do, Rebecca," she +said, "and you worded your invitation as nice as anybody could have +done. I wish your aunt Jane and me wasn't both so worthless with these +colds; but it only shows the good of havin' a clean house, with every +room in order, whether open or shut, and enough victuals cooked so 't +you can't be surprised and belittled by anybody, whatever happens. +There was half a dozen there that might have entertained the Burches as +easy as not, if they hadn't 'a' been too mean or lazy. Why didn't your +missionaries come right along with you?" +</P> + +<P> +"They had to go to the station for their valise and their children." +</P> + +<P> +"Are there children?" groaned Miranda. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, aunt Miranda, all born under Syrian skies." +</P> + +<P> +"Syrian grandmother!" ejaculated Miranda (and it was not a fact). "How +many?" +</P> + +<P> +"I didn't think to ask; but I will get two rooms ready, and if there +are any over I'll take 'em into my bed," said Rebecca, secretly hoping +that this would be the case. "Now, as you're both half sick, couldn't +you trust me just once to get ready for the company? You can come up +when I call. Will you?" +</P> + +<P> +"I believe I will," sighed Miranda reluctantly. "I'll lay down side o' +Jane in our bedroom and see if I can get strength to cook supper. It's +half past three—don't you let me lay a minute past five. I kep' a good +fire in the kitchen stove. I don't know, I'm sure, why I should have +baked a pot o' beans in the middle of the week, but they'll come in +handy. Father used to say there was nothing that went right to the spot +with returned missionaries like pork 'n' beans 'n' brown bread. Fix up +the two south chambers, Rebecca." +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca, given a free hand for the only time in her life, dashed +upstairs like a whirlwind. Every room in the brick house was as neat as +wax, and she had only to pull up the shades, go over the floors with a +whisk broom, and dust the furniture. The aunts could hear her scurrying +to and fro, beating up pillows and feather beds, flapping towels, +jingling crockery, singing meanwhile in her clear voice:— +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + "In vain with lavish kindness<BR> + The gifts of God are strown;<BR> + The heathen in his blindness<BR> + Bows down to wood and stone."<BR> +</P> + +<P> +She had grown to be a handy little creature, and tasks she was capable +of doing at all she did like a flash, so that when she called her aunts +at five o'clock to pass judgment, she had accomplished wonders. There +were fresh towels on bureaus and washstands, the beds were fair and +smooth, the pitchers were filled, and soap and matches were laid out; +newspaper, kindling, and wood were in the boxes, and a large stick +burned slowly in each air-tight stove. "I thought I'd better just take +the chill off," she explained, "as they're right from Syria; and that +reminds me, I must look it up in the geography before they get here." +</P> + +<P> +There was nothing to disapprove, so the two sisters went downstairs to +make some slight changes in their dress. As they passed the parlor door +Miranda thought she heard a crackle and looked in. The shades were up, +there was a cheerful blaze in the open stove in the front parlor, and a +fire laid on the hearth in the back room. Rebecca's own lamp, her +second Christmas present from Mr. Aladdin, stood on a marble-topped +table in the corner, the light that came softly through its +rose-colored shade transforming the stiff and gloomy ugliness of the +room into a place where one could sit and love one's neighbor. +</P> + +<P> +"For massy's sake, Rebecca," called Miss Miranda up the stairs, "did +you think we'd better open the parlor?" +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca came out on the landing braiding her hair. +</P> + +<P> +"We did on Thanksgiving and Christmas, and I thought this was about as +great an occasion," she said. "I moved the wax flowers off the +mantelpiece so they wouldn't melt, and put the shells, the coral, and +the green stuffed bird on top of the what-not, so the children wouldn't +ask to play with them. Brother Milliken's coming over to see Mr. Burch +about business, and I shouldn't wonder if Brother and Sister Cobb +happened in. Don't go down cellar, I'll be there in a minute to do the +running." +</P> + +<P> +Miranda and Jane exchanged glances. +</P> + +<P> +"Ain't she the beatin'est creetur that ever was born int' the world!" +exclaimed Miranda; "but she can turn off work when she's got a mind to!" +</P> + +<P> +At quarter past five everything was ready, and the neighbors, those at +least who were within sight of the brick house (a prominent object in +the landscape when there were no leaves on the trees), were curious +almost to desperation. Shades up in both parlors! Shades up in the two +south bedrooms! And fires—if human vision was to be relied on—fires +in about every room. If it had not been for the kind offices of a lady +who had been at the meeting, and who charitably called in at one or two +houses and explained the reason of all this preparation, there would +have been no sleep in many families. +</P> + +<P> +The missionary party arrived promptly, and there were but two children, +seven or eight having been left with the brethren in Portland, to +diminish traveling expenses. Jane escorted them all upstairs, while +Miranda watched the cooking of the supper; but Rebecca promptly took +the two little girls away from their mother, divested them of their +wraps, smoothed their hair, and brought them down to the kitchen to +smell the beans. +</P> + +<P> +There was a bountiful supper, and the presence of the young people +robbed it of all possible stiffness. Aunt Jane helped clear the table +and put away the food, while Miranda entertained in the parlor; but +Rebecca and the infant Burches washed the dishes and held high carnival +in the kitchen, doing only trifling damage—breaking a cup and plate +that had been cracked before, emptying a silver spoon with some +dishwater out of the back door (an act never permitted at the brick +house), and putting coffee grounds in the sink. All evidences of crime +having been removed by Rebecca, and damages repaired in all possible +cases, the three entered the parlor, where Mr. and Mrs. Cobb and Deacon +and Mrs. Milliken had already appeared. +</P> + +<P> +It was such a pleasant evening! Occasionally they left the heathen in +his blindness bowing down to wood and stone, not for long, but just to +give themselves (and him) time enough to breathe, and then the Burches +told strange, beautiful, marvelous things. The two smaller children +sang together, and Rebecca, at the urgent request of Mrs. Burch, seated +herself at the tinkling old piano and gave "Wild roved an Indian girl, +bright Alfarata" with considerable spirit and style. +</P> + +<P> +At eight o'clock she crossed the room, handed a palm-leaf fan to her +aunt Miranda, ostensibly that she might shade her eyes from the +lamplight; but it was a piece of strategy that gave her an opportunity +to whisper, "How about cookies?" +</P> + +<P> +"Do you think it's worth while?" sibilated Miss Miranda in answer. +</P> + +<P> +"The Perkinses always do." +</P> + +<P> +"All right. You know where they be." +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca moved quietly towards the door, and the young Burches +cataracted after her as if they could not bear a second's separation. +In five minutes they returned, the little ones bearing plates of thin +caraway wafers,—hearts, diamonds, and circles daintily sugared, and +flecked with caraway seed raised in the garden behind the house. These +were a specialty of Miss Jane's, and Rebecca carried a tray with six +tiny crystal glasses filled with dandelion wine, for which Miss Miranda +had been famous in years gone by. Old Deacon Israel had always had it +passed, and he had bought the glasses himself in Boston. Miranda +admired them greatly, not only for their beauty but because they held +so little. Before their advent the dandelion wine had been served in +sherry glasses. +</P> + +<P> +As soon as these refreshments—commonly called a "colation" in +Riverboro—had been genteelly partaken of, Rebecca looked at the clock, +rose from her chair in the children's corner, and said cheerfully, +"Come! time for little missionaries to be in bed!" +</P> + +<P> +Everybody laughed at this, the big missionaries most of all, as the +young people shook hands and disappeared with Rebecca. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap20"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +XX +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +A CHANGE OF HEART +</H3> + +<P> +"That niece of yours is the most remarkable girl I have seen in years," +said Mr. Burch when the door closed. +</P> + +<P> +"She seems to be turnin' out smart enough lately, but she's consid'able +heedless," answered Miranda, "an' most too lively." +</P> + +<P> +"We must remember that it is deficient, not excessive vitality, that +makes the greatest trouble in this world," returned Mr. Burch. +</P> + +<P> +"She'd make a wonderful missionary," said Mrs. Burch; "with her voice, +and her magnetism, and her gift of language." +</P> + +<P> +"If I was to say which of the two she was best adapted for, I'd say +she'd make a better heathen," remarked Miranda curtly. +</P> + +<P> +"My sister don't believe in flattering children," hastily interpolated +Jane, glancing toward Mrs. Burch, who seemed somewhat shocked, and was +about to open her lips to ask if Rebecca was not a "professor." +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Cobb had been looking for this question all the evening and +dreading some allusion to her favorite as gifted in prayer. She had +taken an instantaneous and illogical dislike to the Rev. Mr. Burch in +the afternoon because he called upon Rebecca to "lead." She had seen +the pallor creep into the girl's face, the hunted look in her eyes, and +the trembling of the lashes on her cheeks, and realized the ordeal +through which she was passing. Her prejudice against the minister had +relaxed under his genial talk and presence, but feeling that Mrs. Burch +was about to tread on dangerous ground, she hastily asked her if one +had to change cars many times going from Riverboro to Syria. She felt +that it was not a particularly appropriate question, but it served her +turn. +</P> + +<P> +Deacon Milliken, meantime, said to Miss Sawyer, "Mirandy, do you know +who Rebecky reminds me of?" +</P> + +<P> +"I can guess pretty well," she replied. +</P> + +<P> +"Then you've noticed it too! I thought at first, seein' she favored her +father so on the outside, that she was the same all through; but she +ain't, she's like your father, Israel Sawyer." +</P> + +<P> +"I don't see how you make that out," said Miranda, thoroughly +astonished. +</P> + +<P> +"It struck me this afternoon when she got up to give your invitation in +meetin'. It was kind o' cur'ous, but she set in the same seat he used +to when he was leader o' the Sabbath-school. You know his old way of +holdin' his chin up and throwin' his head back a leetle when he got up +to say anything? Well, she done the very same thing; there was more'n +one spoke of it." +</P> + +<P> +The callers left before nine, and at that hour (an impossibly +dissipated one for the brick house) the family retired for the night. +As Rebecca carried Mrs. Burch's candle upstairs and found herself thus +alone with her for a minute, she said shyly, "Will you please tell Mr. +Burch that I'm not a member of the church? I didn't know what to do +when he asked me to pray this afternoon. I hadn't the courage to say I +had never done it out loud and didn't know how. I couldn't think; and I +was so frightened I wanted to sink into the floor. It seemed bold and +wicked for me to pray before all those old church members and make +believe I was better than I really was; but then again, wouldn't God +think I was wicked not to be willing to pray when a minister asked me +to?" +</P> + +<P> +The candle light fell on Rebecca's flushed, sensitive face. Mrs. Burch +bent and kissed her good-night. "Don't be troubled," she said. "I'll +tell Mr. Burch, and I guess God will understand." +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca waked before six the next morning, so full of household cares +that sleep was impossible. She went to the window and looked out; it +was still dark, and a blustering, boisterous day. +</P> + +<P> +"Aunt Jane told me she should get up at half past six and have +breakfast at half past seven," she thought; "but I daresay they are +both sick with their colds, and aunt Miranda will be fidgety with so +many in the house. I believe I'll creep down and start things for a +surprise." +</P> + +<P> +She put on a wadded wrapper and slippers and stole quietly down the +tabooed front stairs, carefully closed the kitchen door behind her so +that no noise should waken the rest of the household, busied herself +for a half hour with the early morning routine she knew so well, and +then went back to her room to dress before calling the children. +</P> + +<P> +Contrary to expectation, Miss Jane, who the evening before felt better +than Miranda, grew worse in the night, and was wholly unable to leave +her bed in the morning. Miranda grumbled without ceasing during the +progress of her hasty toilet, blaming everybody in the universe for the +afflictions she had borne and was to bear during the day; she even +castigated the Missionary Board that had sent the Burches to Syria, and +gave it as her unbiased opinion that those who went to foreign lands +for the purpose of saving heathen should stay there and save 'em, and +not go gallivantin' all over the earth with a passel o' children, +visitin' folks that didn't want 'em and never asked 'em. +</P> + +<P> +Jane lay anxiously and restlessly in bed with a feverish headache, +wondering how her sister could manage without her. +</P> + +<P> +Miranda walked stiffly through the dining-room, tying a shawl over her +head to keep the draughts away, intending to start the breakfast fire +and then call Rebecca down, set her to work, and tell her, meanwhile, a +few plain facts concerning the proper way of representing the family at +a missionary meeting. +</P> + +<P> +She opened the kitchen door and stared vaguely about her, wondering +whether she had strayed into the wrong house by mistake. +</P> + +<P> +The shades were up, and there was a roaring fire in the stove; the +teakettle was singing and bubbling as it sent out a cloud of steam, and +pushed over its capacious nose was a half sheet of note paper with +"Compliments of Rebecca" scrawled on it. The coffee pot was scalding, +the coffee was measured out in a bowl, and broken eggshells for the +settling process were standing near. The cold potatoes and corned beef +were in the wooden tray, and "Regards of Rebecca" stuck on the chopping +knife. The brown loaf was out, the white loaf was out, the toast rack +was out, the doughnuts were out, the milk was skimmed, the butter had +been brought from the dairy. +</P> + +<P> +Miranda removed the shawl from her head and sank into the kitchen +rocker, ejaculating under her breath, "She is the beatin'est child! I +declare she's all Sawyer!" +</P> + +<P> +The day and the evening passed off with credit and honor to everybody +concerned, even to Jane, who had the discretion to recover instead of +growing worse and acting as a damper to the general enjoyment. The +Burches left with lively regrets, and the little missionaries, bathed +in tears, swore eternal friendship with Rebecca, who pressed into their +hands at parting a poem composed before breakfast. +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +TO MARY AND MARTHA BURCH +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + Born under Syrian skies,<BR> + 'Neath hotter suns than ours;<BR> + The children grew and bloomed,<BR> + Like little tropic flowers.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + When they first saw the light,<BR> + 'T was in a heathen land.<BR> + Not Greenland's icy mountains,<BR> + Nor India's coral strand,<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + But some mysterious country<BR> + Where men are nearly black<BR> + And where of true religion,<BR> + There is a painful lack.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + Then let us haste in helping<BR> + The Missionary Board,<BR> + Seek dark-skinned unbelievers,<BR> + And teach them of their Lord.<BR> + Rebecca Rowena Randall.<BR> +</P> + +<P> +It can readily be seen that this visit of the returned missionaries to +Riverboro was not without somewhat far-reaching results. Mr. and Mrs. +Burch themselves looked back upon it as one of the rarest pleasures of +their half year at home. The neighborhood extracted considerable eager +conversation from it; argument, rebuttal, suspicion, certainty, +retrospect, and prophecy. Deacon Milliken gave ten dollars towards the +conversion of Syria to Congregationalism, and Mrs. Milliken had a spell +of sickness over her husband's rash generosity. +</P> + +<P> +It would be pleasant to state that Miranda Sawyer was an entirely +changed woman afterwards, but that is not the fact. The tree that has +been getting a twist for twenty years cannot be straightened in the +twinkling of an eye. It is certain, however, that although the +difference to the outward eye was very small, it nevertheless existed, +and she was less censorious in her treatment of Rebecca, less harsh in +her judgments, more hopeful of final salvation for her. This had come +about largely from her sudden vision that Rebecca, after all, inherited +something from the Sawyer side of the house instead of belonging, mind, +body, and soul, to the despised Randall stock. Everything that was +interesting in Rebecca, and every evidence of power, capability, or +talent afterwards displayed by her, Miranda ascribed to the brick house +training, and this gave her a feeling of honest pride, the pride of a +master workman who has built success out of the most unpromising +material; but never, to the very end, even when the waning of her +bodily strength relaxed her iron grip and weakened her power of +repression, never once did she show that pride or make a single +demonstration of affection. +</P> + +<P> +Poor misplaced, belittled Lorenzo de Medici Randall, thought ridiculous +and good-for-naught by his associates, because he resembled them in +nothing! If Riverboro could have been suddenly emptied into a larger +community, with different and more flexible opinions, he was, perhaps, +the only personage in the entire population who would have attracted +the smallest attention. It was fortunate for his daughter that she had +been dowered with a little practical ability from her mother's family, +but if Lorenzo had never done anything else in the world, he might have +glorified himself that he had prevented Rebecca from being all Sawyer. +Failure as he was, complete and entire, he had generously handed down +to her all that was best in himself, and prudently retained all that +was unworthy. Few fathers are capable of such delicate discrimination. +</P> + +<P> +The brick house did not speedily become a sort of wayside inn, a place +of innocent revelry and joyous welcome; but the missionary company was +an entering wedge, and Miranda allowed one spare bed to be made up "in +case anything should happen," while the crystal glasses were kept on +the second from the top, instead of the top shelf, in the china closet. +Rebecca had had to stand on a chair to reach them; now she could do it +by stretching; and this is symbolic of the way in which she +unconsciously scaled the walls of Miss Miranda's dogmatism and +prejudice. +</P> + +<P> +Miranda went so far as to say that she wouldn't mind if the Burches +came every once in a while, but she was afraid he'd spread abroad the +fact of his visit, and missionaries' families would be underfoot the +whole continual time. As a case in point, she gracefully cited the fact +that if a tramp got a good meal at anybody's back door, 't was said +that he'd leave some kind of a sign so that all other tramps would know +where they were likely to receive the same treatment. +</P> + +<P> +It is to be feared that there is some truth in this homely +illustration, and Miss Miranda's dread as to her future +responsibilities had some foundation, though not of the precise sort +she had in mind. The soul grows into lovely habits as easily as into +ugly ones, and the moment a life begins to blossom into beautiful words +and deeds, that moment a new standard of conduct is established, and +your eager neighbors look to you for a continuous manifestation of the +good cheer, the sympathy, the ready wit, the comradeship, or the +inspiration, you once showed yourself capable of. Bear figs for a +season or two, and the world outside the orchard is very unwilling you +should bear thistles. +</P> + +<P> +The effect of the Burches' visit on Rebecca is not easily described. +Nevertheless, as she looked back upon it from the vantage ground of +after years, she felt that the moment when Mr. Burch asked her to "lead +in prayer" marked an epoch in her life. +</P> + +<P> +If you have ever observed how courteous and gracious and mannerly you +feel when you don a beautiful new frock; if you have ever noticed the +feeling of reverence stealing over you when you close your eyes, clasp +your hands, and bow your head; if you have ever watched your sense of +repulsion toward a fellow creature melt a little under the exercise of +daily politeness, you may understand how the adoption of the outward +and visible sign has some strange influence in developing the inward +and spiritual state of which it is the expression. +</P> + +<P> +It is only when one has grown old and dull that the soul is heavy and +refuses to rise. The young soul is ever winged; a breath stirs it to an +upward flight. Rebecca was asked to bear witness to a state of mind or +feeling of whose existence she had only the vaguest consciousness. She +obeyed, and as she uttered words they became true in the uttering; as +she voiced aspirations they settled into realities. +</P> + +<P> +As "dove that to its window flies," her spirit soared towards a great +light, dimly discovered at first, but brighter as she came closer to +it. To become sensible of oneness with the Divine heart before any +sense of separation has been felt, this is surely the most beautiful +way for the child to find God. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap21"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +XXI +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE SKY LINE WIDENS +</H3> + +<P> +The time so long and eagerly waited for had come, and Rebecca was a +student at Wareham. Persons who had enjoyed the social bewilderments +and advantages of foreign courts, or had mingled freely in the +intellectual circles of great universities, might not have looked upon +Wareham as an extraordinary experience; but it was as much of an +advance upon Riverboro as that village had been upon Sunnybrook Farm. +Rebecca's intention was to complete the four years' course in three, as +it was felt by all the parties concerned that when she had attained the +ripe age of seventeen she must be ready to earn her own living and help +in the education of the younger children. While she was wondering how +this could be successfully accomplished, some of the other girls were +cogitating as to how they could meander through the four years and come +out at the end knowing no more than at the beginning. This would seem a +difficult, well-nigh an impossible task, but it can be achieved, and +has been, at other seats of learning than modest little Wareham. +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca was to go to and fro on the cars daily from September to +Christmas, and then board in Wareham during the three coldest months. +Emma Jane's parents had always thought that a year or two in the +Edgewood high school (three miles from Riverboro) would serve every +purpose for their daughter and send her into the world with as fine an +intellectual polish as she could well sustain. Emma Jane had hitherto +heartily concurred in this opinion, for if there was any one thing that +she detested it was the learning of lessons. One book was as bad as +another in her eyes, and she could have seen the libraries of the world +sinking into ocean depths and have eaten her dinner cheerfully the +while; but matters assumed a different complexion when she was sent to +Edgewood and Rebecca to Wareham. She bore it for a week—seven endless +days of absence from the beloved object, whom she could see only in the +evenings when both were busy with their lessons. Sunday offered an +opportunity to put the matter before her father, who proved obdurate. +He didn't believe in education and thought she had full enough already. +He never intended to keep up "blacksmithing" for good when he leased +his farm and came into Riverboro, but proposed to go back to it +presently, and by that time Emma Jane would have finished school and +would be ready to help her mother with the dairy work. +</P> + +<P> +Another week passed. Emma Jane pined visibly and audibly. Her color +faded, and her appetite (at table) dwindled almost to nothing. +</P> + +<P> +Her mother alluded plaintively to the fact that the Perkinses had a +habit of going into declines; that she'd always feared that Emma Jane's +complexion was too beautiful to be healthy; that some men would be +proud of having an ambitious daughter, and be glad to give her the best +advantages; that she feared the daily journeys to Edgewood were going +to be too much for her own health, and Mr. Perkins would have to hire a +boy to drive Emma Jane; and finally that when a girl had such a passion +for learning as Emma Jane, it seemed almost like wickedness to cross +her will. +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Perkins bore this for several days until his temper, digestion, and +appetite were all sensibly affected; then he bowed his head to the +inevitable, and Emma Jane flew, like a captive set free, to the loved +one's bower. Neither did her courage flag, although it was put to +terrific tests when she entered the academic groves of Wareham. She +passed in only two subjects, but went cheerfully into the preparatory +department with her five "conditions," intending to let the stream of +education play gently over her mental surfaces and not get any wetter +than she could help. It is not possible to blink the truth that Emma +Jane was dull; but a dogged, unswerving loyalty, and the gift of +devoted, unselfish loving, these, after all, are talents of a sort, and +may possibly be of as much value in the world as a sense of numbers or +a faculty for languages. +</P> + +<P> +Wareham was a pretty village with a broad main street shaded by great +maples and elms. It had an apothecary, a blacksmith, a plumber, several +shops of one sort and another, two churches, and many boarding-houses; +but all its interests gathered about its seminary and its academy. +These seats of learning were neither better nor worse than others of +their kind, but differed much in efficiency, according as the principal +who chanced to be at the head was a man of power and inspiration or the +reverse. There were boys and girls gathered from all parts of the +county and state, and they were of every kind and degree as to birth, +position in the world, wealth or poverty. There was an opportunity for +a deal of foolish and imprudent behavior, but on the whole surprisingly +little advantage was taken of it. Among the third and fourth year +students there was a certain amount of going to and from the trains in +couples; some carrying of heavy books up the hill by the sterner sex +for their feminine schoolmates, and occasional bursts of silliness on +the part of heedless and precocious girls, among whom was Huldah +Meserve. She was friendly enough with Emma Jane and Rebecca, but grew +less and less intimate as time went on. She was extremely pretty, with +a profusion of auburn hair, and a few very tiny freckles, to which she +constantly alluded, as no one could possibly detect them without noting +her porcelain skin and her curling lashes. She had merry eyes, a +somewhat too plump figure for her years, and was popularly supposed to +have a fascinating way with her. Riverboro being poorly furnished with +beaux, she intended to have as good a time during her four years at +Wareham as circumstances would permit. Her idea of pleasure was an +ever-changing circle of admirers to fetch and carry for her, the more +publicly the better; incessant chaff and laughter and vivacious +conversation, made eloquent and effective by arch looks and telling +glances. She had a habit of confiding her conquests to less fortunate +girls and bewailing the incessant havoc and damage she was doing; a +damage she avowed herself as innocent of, in intention, as any new-born +lamb. It does not take much of this sort of thing to wreck an ordinary +friendship, so before long Rebecca and Emma Jane sat in one end of the +railway train in going to and from Riverboro, and Huldah occupied the +other with her court. Sometimes this was brilliant beyond words, +including a certain youthful Monte Cristo, who on Fridays expended +thirty cents on a round trip ticket and traveled from Wareham to +Riverboro merely to be near Huldah; sometimes, too, the circle was +reduced to the popcorn-and-peanut boy of the train, who seemed to serve +every purpose in default of better game. +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca was in the normally unconscious state that belonged to her +years; boys were good comrades, but no more; she liked reciting in the +same class with them, everything seemed to move better; but from vulgar +and precocious flirtations she was protected by her ideals. There was +little in the lads she had met thus far to awaken her fancy, for it +habitually fed on better meat. Huldah's school-girl romances, with +their wealth of commonplace detail, were not the stuff her dreams were +made of, when dreams did flutter across the sensitive plate of her mind. +</P> + +<P> +Among the teachers at Wareham was one who influenced Rebecca +profoundly, Miss Emily Maxwell, with whom she studied English +literature and composition. Miss Maxwell, as the niece of one of +Maine's ex-governors and the daughter of one of Bowdoin's professors, +was the most remarkable personality in Wareham, and that her few years +of teaching happened to be in Rebecca's time was the happiest of all +chances. There was no indecision or delay in the establishment of their +relations; Rebecca's heart flew like an arrow to its mark, and her +mind, meeting its superior, settled at once into an abiding attitude of +respectful homage. +</P> + +<P> +It was rumored that Miss Maxwell "wrote," which word, when uttered in a +certain tone, was understood to mean not that a person had command of +penmanship, Spencerian or otherwise, but that she had appeared in print. +</P> + +<P> +"You'll like her; she writes," whispered Huldah to Rebecca the first +morning at prayers, where the faculty sat in an imposing row on the +front seats. "She writes; and I call her stuck up." +</P> + +<P> +Nobody seemed possessed of exact information with which to satisfy the +hungry mind, but there was believed to be at least one person in +existence who had seen, with his own eyes, an essay by Miss Maxwell in +a magazine. This height of achievement made Rebecca somewhat shy of +her, but she looked her admiration; something that most of the class +could never do with the unsatisfactory organs of vision given them by +Mother Nature. Miss Maxwell's glance was always meeting a pair of eager +dark eyes; when she said anything particularly good, she looked for +approval to the corner of the second bench, where every shade of +feeling she wished to evoke was reflected on a certain sensitive young +face. +</P> + +<P> +One day, when the first essay of the class was under discussion, she +asked each new pupil to bring her some composition written during the +year before, that she might judge the work, and know precisely with +what material she had to deal. Rebecca lingered after the others, and +approached the desk shyly. +</P> + +<P> +"I haven't any compositions here, Miss Maxwell, but I can find one when +I go home on Friday. They are packed away in a box in the attic." +</P> + +<P> +"Carefully tied with pink and blue ribbons?" asked Miss Maxwell, with a +whimsical smile. +</P> + +<P> +"No," answered Rebecca, shaking her head decidedly; "I wanted to use +ribbons, because all the other girls did, and they looked so pretty, +but I used to tie my essays with twine strings on purpose; and the one +on solitude I fastened with an old shoelacing just to show it what I +thought of it!" +</P> + +<P> +"Solitude!" laughed Miss Maxwell, raising her eyebrows. "Did you choose +your own subject?" +</P> + +<P> +"No; Miss Dearborn thought we were not old enough to find good ones." +</P> + +<P> +"What were some of the others?" +</P> + +<P> +"Fireside Reveries, Grant as a Soldier, Reflections on the Life of P. +T. Barnum, Buried Cities; I can't remember any more now. They were all +bad, and I can't bear to show them; I can write poetry easier and +better, Miss Maxwell." +</P> + +<P> +"Poetry!" she exclaimed. "Did Miss Dearborn require you to do it?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, no; I always did it even at the farm. Shall I bring all I have? It +isn't much." +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca took the blank-book in which she kept copies of her effusions +and left it at Miss Maxwell's door, hoping that she might be asked in +and thus obtain a private interview; but a servant answered her ring, +and she could only walk away, disappointed. +</P> + +<P> +A few days afterward she saw the black-covered book on Miss Maxwell's +desk and knew that the dreaded moment of criticism had come, so she was +not surprised to be asked to remain after class. +</P> + +<P> +The room was quiet; the red leaves rustled in the breeze and flew in at +the open window, bearing the first compliments of the season. Miss +Maxwell came and sat by Rebecca's side on the bench. +</P> + +<P> +"Did you think these were good?" she asked, giving her the verses. +</P> + +<P> +"Not so very," confessed Rebecca; "but it's hard to tell all by +yourself. The Perkinses and the Cobbs always said they were wonderful, +but when Mrs. Cobb told me she thought they were better than Mr. +Longfellow's I was worried, because I knew that couldn't be true." +</P> + +<P> +This ingenuous remark confirmed Miss Maxwell's opinion of Rebecca as a +girl who could hear the truth and profit by it. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, my child," she said smilingly, "your friends were wrong and you +were right; judged by the proper tests, they are pretty bad." +</P> + +<P> +"Then I must give up all hope of ever being a writer!" sighed Rebecca, +who was tasting the bitterness of hemlock and wondering if she could +keep the tears back until the interview was over. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't go so fast," interrupted Miss Maxwell. "Though they don't amount +to anything as poetry, they show a good deal of promise in certain +directions. You almost never make a mistake in rhyme or metre, and this +shows you have a natural sense of what is right; a 'sense of form,' +poets would call it. When you grow older, have a little more +experience,—in fact, when you have something to say, I think you may +write very good verses. Poetry needs knowledge and vision, experience +and imagination, Rebecca. You have not the first three yet, but I +rather think you have a touch of the last." +</P> + +<P> +"Must I never try any more poetry, not even to amuse myself?" +</P> + +<P> +"Certainly you may; it will only help you to write better prose. Now +for the first composition. I am going to ask all the new students to +write a letter giving some description of the town and a hint of the +school life." +</P> + +<P> +"Shall I have to be myself?" asked Rebecca. +</P> + +<P> +"What do you mean?" +</P> + +<P> +"A letter from Rebecca Randall to her sister Hannah at Sunnybrook Farm, +or to her aunt Jane at the brick house, Riverboro, is so dull and +stupid, if it is a real letter; but if I could make believe I was a +different girl altogether, and write to somebody who would be sure to +understand everything I said, I could make it nicer." +</P> + +<P> +"Very well; I think that's a delightful plan," said Miss Maxwell; "and +whom will you suppose yourself to be?" +</P> + +<P> +"I like heiresses very much," replied Rebecca contemplatively. "Of +course I never saw one, but interesting things are always happening to +heiresses, especially to the golden-haired kind. My heiress wouldn't be +vain and haughty like the wicked sisters in Cinderella; she would be +noble and generous. She would give up a grand school in Boston because +she wanted to come here where her father lived when he was a boy, long +before he made his fortune. The father is dead now, and she has a +guardian, the best and kindest man in the world; he is rather old of +course, and sometimes very quiet and grave, but sometimes when he is +happy, he is full of fun, and then Evelyn is not afraid of him. Yes, +the girl shall be called Evelyn Abercrombie, and her guardian's name +shall be Mr. Adam Ladd." +</P> + +<P> +"Do you know Mr. Ladd?" asked Miss Maxwell in surprise. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, he's my very best friend," cried Rebecca delightedly. "Do you +know him too?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, yes; he is a trustee of these schools, you know, and often comes +here. But if I let you 'suppose' any more, you will tell me your whole +letter and then I shall lose a pleasant surprise." +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +What Rebecca thought of Miss Maxwell we already know; how the teacher +regarded the pupil may be gathered from the following letter written +two or three months later. +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> + Wareham, December 1st<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> + My Dear Father,—As you well know, I have not always been an + enthusiast on the subject of teaching. The task of cramming + knowledge into these self-sufficient, inefficient youngsters + of both sexes discourages me at times. The more stupid they + are, the less they are aware of it. If my department were + geography or mathematics, I believe I should feel that I was + accomplishing something, for in those branches application + and industry work wonders; but in English literature and + composition one yearns for brains, for appreciation, for + imagination! Month after month I toil on, opening oyster + after oyster, but seldom finding a pearl. Fancy my joy this + term when, without any violent effort at shell-splitting, I + came upon a rare pearl; a black one, but of satin skin and + beautiful lustre! Her name is Rebecca, and she looks not + unlike Rebekah at the Well in our family Bible; her hair and + eyes being so dark as to suggest a strain of Italian or + Spanish blood. She is nobody in particular. Man has done + nothing for her; she has no family to speak of, no money, no + education worthy the name, has had no advantages of any sort; + but Dame Nature flung herself into the breach and said:— +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + "This child I to myself will take;<BR> + She shall be mine and I will make<BR> + A Lady of my own."<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> + Blessed Wordsworth! How he makes us understand! And the pearl + never heard of him until now! Think of reading Lucy to a + class, and when you finish, seeing a fourteen-year-old pair + of lips quivering with delight, and a pair of eyes brimming + with comprehending tears! +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> + You poor darling! You, too, know the discouragement of sowing + lovely seed in rocky earth, in sand, in water, and (it almost + seems sometimes) in mud; knowing that if anything comes up at + all it will be some poor starveling plant. Fancy the joy of + finding a real mind; of dropping seed in a soil so warm, so + fertile, that one knows there are sure to be foliage, + blossoms, and fruit all in good time! I wish I were not so + impatient and so greedy of results! I am not fit to be a + teacher; no one is who is so scornful of stupidity as I am. . + . . The pearl writes quaint countrified little verses, + doggerel they are; but somehow or other she always contrives + to put in one line, one thought, one image, that shows you + she is, quite unconsciously to herself, in possession of the + secret. . . . Good-by; I'll bring Rebecca home with me some + Friday, and let you and mother see her for yourselves. +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> + Your affectionate daughter, +<BR> + Emily. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap22"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +XXII +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CLOVER BLOSSOMS AND SUNFLOWERS +</H3> + +<P> +"How d' ye do, girls?" said Huldah Meserve, peeping in at the door. +"Can you stop studying a minute and show me your room? Say, I've just +been down to the store and bought me these gloves, for I was bound I +wouldn't wear mittens this winter; they're simply too countrified. It's +your first year here, and you're younger than I am, so I s'pose you +don't mind, but I simply suffer if I don't keep up some kind of style. +Say, your room is simply too cute for words! I don't believe any of the +others can begin to compare with it! I don't know what gives it that +simply gorgeous look, whether it's the full curtains, or that elegant +screen, or Rebecca's lamp; but you certainly do have a faculty for +fixing up. I like a pretty room too, but I never have a minute to +attend to mine; I'm always so busy on my clothes that half the time I +don't get my bed made up till noon; and after all, having no callers +but the girls, it don't make much difference. When I graduate, I'm +going to fix up our parlor at home so it'll be simply regal. I've +learned decalcomania, and after I take up lustre painting I shall have +it simply stiff with drapes and tidies and placques and sofa pillows, +and make mother let me have a fire, and receive my friends there +evenings. May I dry my feet at your register? I can't bear to wear +rubbers unless the mud or the slush is simply knee-deep, they make your +feet look so awfully big. I had such a fuss getting this pair of +French-heeled boots that I don't intend to spoil the looks of them with +rubbers any oftener than I can help. I believe boys notice feet quicker +than anything. Elmer Webster stepped on one of mine yesterday when I +accidentally had it out in the aisle, and when he apologized after +class, he said he wasn't so much to blame, for the foot was so little +he really couldn't see it! Isn't he perfectly great? Of course that's +only his way of talking, for after all I only wear a number two, but +these French heels and pointed toes do certainly make your foot look +smaller, and it's always said a high instep helps, too. I used to think +mine was almost a deformity, but they say it's a great beauty. Just put +your feet beside mine, girls, and look at the difference; not that I +care much, but just for fun." +</P> + +<P> +"My feet are very comfortable where they are," responded Rebecca dryly. +"I can't stop to measure insteps on algebra days; I've noticed your +habit of keeping a foot in the aisle ever since you had those new +shoes, so I don't wonder it was stepped on." +</P> + +<P> +"Perhaps I am a little mite conscious of them, because they're not so +very comfortable at first, till you get them broken in. Say, haven't +you got a lot of new things?" +</P> + +<P> +"Our Christmas presents, you mean," said Emma Jane. "The pillow-cases +are from Mrs. Cobb, the rug from cousin Mary in North Riverboro, the +scrap-basket from Living and Dick. We gave each other the bureau and +cushion covers, and the screen is mine from Mr. Ladd." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, you were lucky when you met him! Gracious! I wish I could meet +somebody like that. The way he keeps it up, too! It just hides your +bed, doesn't it, and I always say that a bed takes the style off any +room—specially when it's not made up; though you have an alcove, and +it's the only one in the whole building. I don't see how you managed to +get this good room when you're such new scholars," she finished +discontentedly. +</P> + +<P> +"We shouldn't have, except that Ruth Berry had to go away suddenly on +account of her father's death. This room was empty, and Miss Maxwell +asked if we might have it," returned Emma Jane. +</P> + +<P> +"The great and only Max is more stiff and standoffish than ever this +year," said Huldah. "I've simply given up trying to please her, for +there's no justice in her; she is good to her favorites, but she +doesn't pay the least attention to anybody else, except to make +sarcastic speeches about things that are none of her business. I wanted +to tell her yesterday it was her place to teach me Latin, not manners." +</P> + +<P> +"I wish you wouldn't talk against Miss Maxwell to me," said Rebecca +hotly. "You know how I feel." +</P> + +<P> +"I know; but I can't understand how you can abide her." +</P> + +<P> +"I not only abide, I love her!" exclaimed Rebecca. "I wouldn't let the +sun shine too hot on her, or the wind blow too cold. I'd like to put a +marble platform in her class-room and have her sit in a velvet chair +behind a golden table!" +</P> + +<P> +"Well, don't have a fit!—because she can sit where she likes for all +of me; I've got something better to think of," and Huldah tossed her +head. +</P> + +<P> +"Isn't this your study hour?" asked Emma Jane, to stop possible +discussion. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, but I lost my Latin grammar yesterday; I left it in the hall half +an hour while I was having a regular scene with Herbert Dunn. I haven't +spoken to him for a week and gave him back his class pin. He was simply +furious. Then when I came back to the hall, the book was gone. I had to +go down town for my gloves and to the principal's office to see if the +grammar had been handed in, and that's the reason I'm so fine." +</P> + +<P> +Huldah was wearing a woolen dress that had once been gray, but had been +dyed a brilliant blue. She had added three rows of white braid and +large white pearl buttons to her gray jacket, in order to make it a +little more "dressy." Her gray felt hat had a white feather on it, and +a white tissue veil with large black dots made her delicate skin look +brilliant. Rebecca thought how lovely the knot of red hair looked under +the hat behind, and how the color of the front had been dulled by +incessant frizzing with curling irons. Her open jacket disclosed a +galaxy of souvenirs pinned to the background of bright blue,—a small +American flag, a button of the Wareham Rowing Club, and one or two +society pins. These decorations proved her popularity in very much the +same way as do the cotillion favors hanging on the bedroom walls of the +fashionable belle. She had been pinning and unpinning, arranging and +disarranging her veil ever since she entered the room, in the hope that +the girls would ask her whose ring she was wearing this week; but +although both had noticed the new ornament instantly, wild horses could +not have drawn the question from them; her desire to be asked was too +obvious. With her gay plumage, her "nods and becks and wreathed +smiles," and her cheerful cackle, Huldah closely resembled the parrot +in Wordsworth's poem:— +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + "Arch, volatile, a sportive bird,<BR> + By social glee inspired;<BR> + Ambitious to be seen or heard,<BR> + And pleased to be admired!"<BR> +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. Morrison thinks the grammar will be returned, and lent me +another," Huldah continued. +</P> + +<P> +"He was rather snippy about my leaving a book in the hall. There was a +perfectly elegant gentleman in the office, a stranger to me. I wish he +was a new teacher, but there's no such luck. He was too young to be the +father of any of the girls, and too old to be a brother, but he was +handsome as a picture and had on an awful stylish suit of clothes. He +looked at me about every minute I was in the room. It made me so +embarrassed I couldn't hardly answer Mr. Morrison's questions straight." +</P> + +<P> +"You'll have to wear a mask pretty soon, if you're going to have any +comfort, Huldah," said Rebecca. "Did he offer to lend you his class +pin, or has it been so long since he graduated that he's left off +wearing it? And tell us now whether the principal asked for a lock of +your hair to put in his watch?" +</P> + +<P> +This was all said merrily and laughingly, but there were times when +Huldah could scarcely make up her mind whether Rebecca was trying to be +witty, or whether she was jealous; but she generally decided it was +merely the latter feeling, rather natural in a girl who had little +attention. +</P> + +<P> +"He wore no jewelry but a cameo scarf pin and a perfectly gorgeous +ring,—a queer kind of one that wound round and round his finger. Oh +dear, I must run! Where has the hour gone? There's the study bell!" +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca had pricked up her ears at Huldah's speech. She remembered a +certain strange ring, and it belonged to the only person in the world +(save Miss Maxwell) who appealed to her imagination,—Mr. Aladdin. Her +feeling for him, and that of Emma Jane, was a mixture of romantic and +reverent admiration for the man himself and the liveliest gratitude for +his beautiful gifts. Since they first met him not a Christmas had gone +by without some remembrance for them both; remembrances chosen with the +rarest taste and forethought. Emma Jane had seen him only twice, but he +had called several times at the brick house, and Rebecca had learned to +know him better. It was she, too, who always wrote the notes of +acknowledgment and thanks, taking infinite pains to make Emma Jane's +quite different from her own. Sometimes he had written from Boston and +asked her the news of Riverboro, and she had sent him pages of quaint +and childlike gossip, interspersed, on two occasions, with poetry, +which he read and reread with infinite relish. If Huldah's stranger +should be Mr. Aladdin, would he come to see her, and could she and Emma +Jane show him their beautiful room with so many of his gifts in +evidence? +</P> + +<P> +When the girls had established themselves in Wareham as real boarding +pupils, it seemed to them existence was as full of joy as it well could +hold. This first winter was, in fact, the most tranquilly happy of +Rebecca's school life,—a winter long to be looked back upon. She and +Emma Jane were room-mates, and had put their modest possessions +together to make their surroundings pretty and homelike. The room had, +to begin with, a cheerful red ingrain carpet and a set of maple +furniture. As to the rest, Rebecca had furnished the ideas and Emma +Jane the materials and labor, a method of dividing responsibilities +that seemed to suit the circumstances admirably. Mrs. Perkins's father +had been a storekeeper, and on his death had left the goods of which he +was possessed to his married daughter. The molasses, vinegar, and +kerosene had lasted the family for five years, and the Perkins attic +was still a treasure-house of ginghams, cottons, and "Yankee notions." +So at Rebecca's instigation Mrs. Perkins had made full curtains and +lambrequins of unbleached muslin, which she had trimmed and looped back +with bands of Turkey red cotton. There were two table covers to match, +and each of the girls had her study corner. Rebecca, after much +coaxing, had been allowed to bring over her precious lamp, which would +have given a luxurious air to any apartment, and when Mr. Aladdin's +last Christmas presents were added,—the Japanese screen for Emma Jane +and the little shelf of English Poets for Rebecca,—they declared that +it was all quite as much fun as being married and going to housekeeping. +</P> + +<P> +The day of Huldah's call was Friday, and on Fridays from three to half +past four Rebecca was free to take a pleasure to which she looked +forward the entire week. She always ran down the snowy path through the +pine woods at the back of the seminary, and coming out on a quiet +village street, went directly to the large white house where Miss +Maxwell lived. The maid-of-all-work answered her knock; she took off +her hat and cape and hung them in the hall, put her rubber shoes and +umbrella carefully in the corner, and then opened the door of paradise. +Miss Maxwell's sitting-room was lined on two sides with bookshelves, +and Rebecca was allowed to sit before the fire and browse among the +books to her heart's delight for an hour or more. Then Miss Maxwell +would come back from her class, and there would be a precious half hour +of chat before Rebecca had to meet Emma Jane at the station and take +the train for Riverboro, where her Saturdays and Sundays were spent, +and where she was washed, ironed, mended, and examined, approved and +reproved, warned and advised in quite sufficient quantity to last her +the succeeding week. +</P> + +<P> +On this Friday she buried her face in the blooming geraniums on Miss +Maxwell's plant-stand, selected Romola from one of the bookcases, and +sank into a seat by the window with a sigh of infinite content, She +glanced at the clock now and then, remembering the day on which she had +been so immersed in David Copperfield that the Riverboro train had no +place in her mind. The distracted Emma Jane had refused to leave +without her, and had run from the station to look for her at Miss +Maxwell's. There was but one later train, and that went only to a place +three miles the other side of Riverboro, so that the two girls appeared +at their respective homes long after dark, having had a weary walk in +the snow. +</P> + +<P> +When she had read for half an hour she glanced out of the window and +saw two figures issuing from the path through the woods. The knot of +bright hair and the coquettish hat could belong to but one person; and +her companion, as the couple approached, proved to be none other than +Mr. Aladdin. Huldah was lifting her skirts daintily and picking safe +stepping-places for the high-heeled shoes, her cheeks glowing, her eyes +sparkling under the black and white veil. +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca slipped from her post by the window to the rug before the +bright fire and leaned her head on the seat of the great easy-chair. +She was frightened at the storm in her heart; at the suddenness with +which it had come on, as well as at the strangeness of an entirely new +sensation. She felt all at once as if she could not bear to give up her +share of Mr. Aladdin's friendship to Huldah: Huldah so bright, saucy, +and pretty; so gay and ready, and such good company! She had always +joyfully admitted Emma Jane into the precious partnership, but perhaps +unconsciously to herself she had realized that Emma Jane had never held +anything but a secondary place in Mr. Aladdin's regard; yet who was she +herself, after all, that she could hope to be first? +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly the door opened softly and somebody looked in, somebody who +said: "Miss Maxwell told me I should find Miss Rebecca Randall here." +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca started at the sound and sprang to her feet, saying joyfully, +"Mr. Aladdin! Oh! I knew you were in Wareham, and I was afraid you +wouldn't have time to come and see us." +</P> + +<P> +"Who is 'us'? The aunts are not here, are they? Oh, you mean the rich +blacksmith's daughter, whose name I can never remember. Is she here?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, and my room-mate," answered Rebecca, who thought her own knell of +doom had sounded, if he had forgotten Emma Jane's name. +</P> + +<P> +The light in the room grew softer, the fire crackled cheerily, and they +talked of many things, until the old sweet sense of friendliness and +familiarity crept back into Rebecca's heart. Adam had not seen her for +several months, and there was much to be learned about school matters +as viewed from her own standpoint; he had already inquired concerning +her progress from Mr. Morrison. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, little Miss Rebecca," he said, rousing himself at length, "I +must be thinking of my drive to Portland. There is a meeting of railway +directors there to-morrow, and I always take this opportunity of +visiting the school and giving my valuable advice concerning its +affairs, educational and financial." +</P> + +<P> +"It seems funny for you to be a school trustee," said Rebecca +contemplatively. "I can't seem to make it fit." +</P> + +<P> +"You are a remarkably wise young person and I quite agree with you," he +answered; "the fact is," he added soberly, "I accepted the trusteeship +in memory of my poor little mother, whose last happy years were spent +here." +</P> + +<P> +"That was a long time ago!" +</P> + +<P> +"Let me see, I am thirty-two; only thirty-two, despite an occasional +gray hair. My mother was married a month after she graduated, and she +lived only until I was ten; yes, it is a long way back to my mother's +time here, though the school was fifteen or twenty years old then, I +believe. Would you like to see my mother, Miss Rebecca?" +</P> + +<P> +The girl took the leather case gently and opened it to find an +innocent, pink-and-white daisy of a face, so confiding, so sensitive, +that it went straight to the heart. It made Rebecca feel old, +experienced, and maternal. She longed on the instant to comfort and +strengthen such a tender young thing. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, what a sweet, sweet, flowery face!" she whispered softly. +</P> + +<P> +"The flower had to bear all sorts of storms," said Adam gravely. "The +bitter weather of the world bent its slender stalk, bowed its head, and +dragged it to the earth. I was only a child and could do nothing to +protect and nourish it, and there was no one else to stand between it +and trouble. Now I have success and money and power, all that would +have kept her alive and happy, and it is too late. She died for lack of +love and care, nursing and cherishing, and I can never forget it. All +that has come to me seems now and then so useless, since I cannot share +it with her!" +</P> + +<P> +This was a new Mr. Aladdin, and Rebecca's heart gave a throb of +sympathy and comprehension. This explained the tired look in his eyes, +the look that peeped out now and then, under all his gay speech and +laughter. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm so glad I know," she said, "and so glad I could see her just as +she was when she tied that white muslin hat under her chin and saw her +yellow curls and her sky-blue eyes in the glass. Mustn't she have been +happy! I wish she could have been kept so, and had lived to see you +grow up strong and good. My mother is always sad and busy, but once +when she looked at John I heard her say, 'He makes up for everything.' +That's what your mother would have thought about you if she had lived, +and perhaps she does as it is." +</P> + +<P> +"You are a comforting little person, Rebecca," said Adam, rising from +his chair. +</P> + +<P> +As Rebecca rose, the tears still trembling on her lashes, he looked at +her suddenly as with new vision. +</P> + +<P> +"Good-by!" he said, taking her slim brown hands in his, adding, as if +he saw her for the first time, "Why, little Rose-Red-Snow-White is +making way for a new girl! Burning the midnight oil and doing four +years' work in three is supposed to dull the eye and blanch the cheek, +yet Rebecca's eyes are bright and she has a rosy color! Her long braids +are looped one on the other so that they make a black letter U behind, +and they are tied with grand bows at the top! She is so tall that she +reaches almost to my shoulder. This will never do in the world! How +will Mr. Aladdin get on without his comforting little friend! He +doesn't like grown-up young ladies in long trains and wonderful fine +clothes; they frighten and bore him!" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Mr. Aladdin!" cried Rebecca eagerly, taking his jest quite +seriously; "I am not fifteen yet, and it will be three years before I'm +a young lady; please don't give me up until you have to!" +</P> + +<P> +"I won't; I promise you that," said Adam. "Rebecca," he continued, +after a moment's pause, "who is that young girl with a lot of pretty +red hair and very citified manners? She escorted me down the hill; do +you know whom I mean?" +</P> + +<P> +"It must be Huldah Meserve; she is from Riverboro." +</P> + +<P> +Adam put a finger under Rebecca's chin and looked into her eyes; eyes +as soft, as clear, as unconscious, and childlike as they had been when +she was ten. He remembered the other pair of challenging blue ones that +had darted coquettish glances through half-dropped lids, shot arrowy +beams from under archly lifted brows, and said gravely, "Don't form +yourself on her, Rebecca; clover blossoms that grow in the fields +beside Sunnybrook mustn't be tied in the same bouquet with gaudy +sunflowers; they are too sweet and fragrant and wholesome." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap23"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +XXIII +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE HILL DIFFICULTY +</H3> + +<P> +The first happy year at Wareham, with its widened sky-line, its larger +vision, its greater opportunity, was over and gone. Rebecca had studied +during the summer vacation, and had passed, on her return in the +autumn, certain examinations which would enable her, if she carried out +the same programme the next season, to complete the course in three +instead of four years. She came off with no flying colors,—that would +have been impossible in consideration of her inadequate training; but +she did wonderfully well in some of the required subjects, and so +brilliantly in others that the average was respectable. She would never +have been a remarkable scholar under any circumstances, perhaps, and +she was easily out-stripped in mathematics and the natural sciences by +a dozen girls, but in some inexplicable way she became, as the months +went on, the foremost figure in the school. When she had entirely +forgotten the facts which would enable her to answer a question fully +and conclusively, she commonly had some original theory to expound; it +was not always correct, but it was generally unique and sometimes +amusing. She was only fair in Latin or French grammar, but when it came +to translation, her freedom, her choice of words, and her sympathetic +understanding of the spirit of the text made her the delight of her +teachers and the despair of her rivals. +</P> + +<P> +"She can be perfectly ignorant of a subject," said Miss Maxwell to Adam +Ladd, "but entirely intelligent the moment she has a clue. Most of the +other girls are full of information and as stupid as sheep." +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca's gifts had not been discovered save by the few, during the +first year, when she was adjusting herself quietly to the situation. +She was distinctly one of the poorer girls; she had no fine dresses to +attract attention, no visitors, no friends in the town. She had more +study hours, and less time, therefore, for the companionship of other +girls, gladly as she would have welcomed the gayety of that side of +school life. Still, water will find its own level in some way, and by +the spring of the second year she had naturally settled into the same +sort of leadership which had been hers in the smaller community of +Riverboro. She was unanimously elected assistant editor of the Wareham +School Pilot, being the first girl to assume that enviable, though +somewhat arduous and thankless position, and when her maiden number +went to the Cobbs, uncle Jerry and aunt Sarah could hardly eat or sleep +for pride. +</P> + +<P> +"She'll always get votes," said Huldah Meserve, when discussing the +election, "for whether she knows anything or not, she looks as if she +did, and whether she's capable of filling an office or not, she looks +as if she was. I only wish I was tall and dark and had the gift of +making people believe I was great things, like Rebecca Randall. There's +one thing: though the boys call her handsome, you notice they don't +trouble her with much attention." +</P> + +<P> +It was a fact that Rebecca's attitude towards the opposite sex was +still somewhat indifferent and oblivious, even for fifteen and a half! +No one could look at her and doubt that she had potentialities of +attraction latent within her somewhere, but that side of her nature was +happily biding its time. A human being is capable only of a certain +amount of activity at a given moment, and it will inevitably satisfy +first its most pressing needs, its most ardent desires, its chief +ambitions. Rebecca was full of small anxieties and fears, for matters +were not going well at the brick house and were anything but hopeful at +the home farm. She was overbusy and overtaxed, and her thoughts were +naturally drawn towards the difficult problems of daily living. +</P> + +<P> +It had seemed to her during the autumn and winter of that year as if +her aunt Miranda had never been, save at the very first, so censorious +and so fault-finding. One Saturday Rebecca ran upstairs and, bursting +into a flood of tears, exclaimed, "Aunt Jane, it seems as if I never +could stand her continual scoldings. Nothing I can do suits aunt +Miranda; she's just said it will take me my whole life to get the +Randall out of me, and I'm not convinced that I want it all out, so +there we are!" +</P> + +<P> +Aunt Jane, never demonstrative, cried with Rebecca as she attempted to +soothe her. +</P> + +<P> +"You must be patient," she said, wiping first her own eyes and then +Rebecca's. "I haven't told you, for it isn't fair you should be +troubled when you're studying so hard, but your aunt Miranda isn't +well. One Monday morning about a month ago, she had a kind of faint +spell; it wasn't bad, but the doctor is afraid it was a shock, and if +so, it's the beginning of the end. Seems to me she's failing right +along, and that's what makes her so fretful and easy vexed. She has +other troubles too, that you don't know anything about, and if you're +not kind to your aunt Miranda now, child, you'll be dreadful sorry some +time." +</P> + +<P> +All the temper faded from Rebecca's face, and she stopped crying to say +penitently, "Oh! the poor dear thing! I won't mind a bit what she says +now. She's just asked me for some milk toast and I was dreading to take +it to her, but this will make everything different. Don't worry yet, +aunt Jane, for perhaps it won't be as bad as you think." +</P> + +<P> +So when she carried the toast to her aunt a little later, it was in the +best gilt-edged china bowl, with a fringed napkin on the tray and a +sprig of geranium lying across the salt cellar. +</P> + +<P> +"Now, aunt Miranda," she said cheerily, "I expect you to smack your +lips and say this is good; it's not Randall, but Sawyer milk toast." +</P> + +<P> +"You've tried all kinds on me, one time an' another," Miranda answered. +"This tastes real kind o' good; but I wish you hadn't wasted that nice +geranium." +</P> + +<P> +"You can't tell what's wasted," said Rebecca philosophically; "perhaps +that geranium has been hoping this long time it could brighten +somebody's supper, so don't disappoint it by making believe you don't +like it. I've seen geraniums cry,—in the very early morning!" +</P> + +<P> +The mysterious trouble to which Jane had alluded was a very real one, +but it was held in profound secrecy. Twenty-five hundred dollars of the +small Sawyer property had been invested in the business of a friend of +their father's, and had returned them a regular annual income of a +hundred dollars. The family friend had been dead for some five years, +but his son had succeeded to his interests and all went on as formerly. +Suddenly there came a letter saying that the firm had gone into +bankruptcy, that the business had been completely wrecked, and that the +Sawyer money had been swept away with everything else. +</P> + +<P> +The loss of one hundred dollars a year is a very trifling matter, but +it made all the difference between comfort and self-denial to the two +old spinsters Their manner of life had been so rigid and careful that +it was difficult to economize any further, and the blow had fallen just +when it was most inconvenient, for Rebecca's school and boarding +expenses, small as they were, had to be paid promptly and in cash. +</P> + +<P> +"Can we possibly go on doing it? Shan't we have to give up and tell her +why?" asked Jane tearfully of the elder sister. +</P> + +<P> +"We have put our hand to the plough, and we can't turn back," answered +Miranda in her grimmest tone; "we've taken her away from her mother and +offered her an education, and we've got to keep our word. She's +Aurelia's only hope for years to come, to my way o' thinkin'. Hannah's +beau takes all her time 'n' thought, and when she gits a husband her +mother'll be out o' sight and out o' mind. John, instead of farmin', +thinks he must be a doctor,—as if folks wasn't gettin' unhealthy +enough these days, without turnin' out more young doctors to help 'em +into their graves. No, Jane; we'll skimp 'n' do without, 'n' plan to +git along on our interest money somehow, but we won't break into our +principal, whatever happens." +</P> + +<P> +"Breaking into the principal" was, in the minds of most thrifty New +England women, a sin only second to arson, theft, or murder; and, +though the rule was occasionally carried too far for common sense,—as +in this case, where two elderly women of sixty might reasonably have +drawn something from their little hoard in time of special need,—it +doubtless wrought more of good than evil in the community. +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca, who knew nothing of their business affairs, merely saw her +aunts grow more and more saving, pinching here and there, cutting off +this and that relentlessly. Less meat and fish were bought; the woman +who had lately been coming two days a week for washing, ironing, and +scrubbing was dismissed; the old bonnets of the season before were +brushed up and retrimmed; there were no drives to Moderation or trips +to Portland. Economy was carried to its very extreme; but though +Miranda was well-nigh as gloomy and uncompromising in her manner and +conversation as a woman could well be, she at least never twitted her +niece of being a burden; so Rebecca's share of the Sawyers' misfortunes +consisted only in wearing her old dresses, hats, and jackets, without +any apparent hope of a change. +</P> + +<P> +There was, however, no concealing the state of things at Sunnybrook, +where chapters of accidents had unfolded themselves in a sort of serial +story that had run through the year. The potato crop had failed; there +were no apples to speak of; the hay had been poor; Aurelia had turns of +dizziness in her head; Mark had broken his ankle. As this was his +fourth offense, Miranda inquired how many bones there were in the human +body, "so 't they'd know when Mark got through breakin' 'em." The time +for paying the interest on the mortgage, that incubus that had crushed +all the joy out of the Randall household, had come and gone, and there +was no possibility, for the first time in fourteen years, of paying the +required forty-eight dollars. The only bright spot in the horizon was +Hannah's engagement to Will Melville,—a young farmer whose land joined +Sunnybrook, who had a good house, was alone in the world, and his own +master. Hannah was so satisfied with her own unexpectedly radiant +prospects that she hardly realized her mother's anxieties; for there +are natures which flourish, in adversity, and deteriorate when exposed +to sudden prosperity. She had made a visit of a week at the brick +house; and Miranda's impression, conveyed in privacy to Jane, was that +Hannah was close as the bark of a tree, and consid'able selfish too; +that when she'd clim' as fur as she could in the world, she'd kick the +ladder out from under her, everlastin' quick; that, on being sounded as +to her ability to be of use to the younger children in the future, she +said she guessed she'd done her share a'ready, and she wan't goin' to +burden Will with her poor relations. "She's Susan Randall through and +through!" ejaculated Miranda. "I was glad to see her face turned +towards Temperance. If that mortgage is ever cleared from the farm, 't +won't be Hannah that'll do it; it'll be Rebecca or me!" +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap24"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +XXIV +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +ALADDIN RUBS HIS LAMP +</H3> + +<P> +"Your esteemed contribution entitled Wareham Wildflowers has been +accepted for The Pilot, Miss Perkins," said Rebecca, entering the room +where Emma Jane was darning the firm's stockings. "I stayed to tea with +Miss Maxwell, but came home early to tell you." +</P> + +<P> +"You are joking, Becky!" faltered Emma Jane, looking up from her work. +</P> + +<P> +"Not a bit; the senior editor read it and thought it highly +instructive; it appears in the next issue." +</P> + +<P> +"Not in the same number with your poem about the golden gates that +close behind us when we leave school?"—and Emma Jane held her breath +as she awaited the reply. +</P> + +<P> +"Even so, Miss Perkins." +</P> + +<P> +"Rebecca," said Emma Jane, with the nearest approach to tragedy that +her nature would permit, "I don't know as I shall be able to bear it, +and if anything happens to me, I ask you solemnly to bury that number +of The Pilot with me." +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca did not seem to think this the expression of an exaggerated +state of feeling, inasmuch as she replied, "I know; that's just the way +it seemed to me at first, and even now, whenever I'm alone and take out +the Pilot back numbers to read over my contributions, I almost burst +with pleasure; and it's not that they are good either, for they look +worse to me every time I read them." +</P> + +<P> +"If you would only live with me in some little house when we get +older," mused Emma Jane, as with her darning needle poised in air she +regarded the opposite wall dreamily, "I would do the housework and +cooking, and copy all your poems and stories, and take them to the +post-office, and you needn't do anything but write. It would be +perfectly elergant!" +</P> + +<P> +"I'd like nothing better, if I hadn't promised to keep house for John," +replied Rebecca. +</P> + +<P> +"He won't have a house for a good many years, will he?" +</P> + +<P> +"No," sighed Rebecca ruefully, flinging herself down by the table and +resting her head on her hand. "Not unless we can contrive to pay off +that detestable mortgage. The day grows farther off instead of nearer +now that we haven't paid the interest this year." +</P> + +<P> +She pulled a piece of paper towards her, and scribbling idly on it read +aloud in a moment or two:— +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + "Will you pay a little faster?" said the mortgage to the farm;<BR> + "I confess I'm very tired of this place."<BR> + "The weariness is mutual," Rebecca Randall cried;<BR> + "I would I'd never gazed upon your face!"<BR> +</P> + +<P> +"A note has a 'face,'" observed Emma Jane, who was gifted in +arithmetic. "I didn't know that a mortgage had." +</P> + +<P> +"Our mortgage has," said Rebecca revengefully. "I should know him if I +met him in the dark. Wait and I'll draw him for you. It will be good +for you to know how he looks, and then when you have a husband and +seven children, you won't allow him to come anywhere within a mile of +your farm." +</P> + +<P> +The sketch when completed was of a sort to be shunned by a timid person +on the verge of slumber. There was a tiny house on the right, and a +weeping family gathered in front of it. The mortgage was depicted as a +cross between a fiend and an ogre, and held an axe uplifted in his red +right hand. A figure with streaming black locks was staying the blow, +and this, Rebecca explained complacently, was intended as a likeness of +herself, though she was rather vague as to the method she should use in +attaining her end. +</P> + +<P> +"He's terrible," said Emma Jane, "but awfully wizened and small." +</P> + +<P> +"It's only a twelve hundred dollar mortgage," said Rebecca, "and that's +called a small one. John saw a man once that was mortgaged for twelve +thousand." +</P> + +<P> +"Shall you be a writer or an editor?" asked Emma Jane presently, as if +one had only to choose and the thing were done. +</P> + +<P> +"I shall have to do what turns up first, I suppose." +</P> + +<P> +"Why not go out as a missionary to Syria, as the Burches are always +coaxing you to? The Board would pay your expenses." +</P> + +<P> +"I can't make up my mind to be a missionary," Rebecca answered. "I'm +not good enough in the first place, and I don't 'feel a call,' as Mr. +Burch says you must. I would like to do something for somebody and make +things move, somewhere, but I don't want to go thousands of miles away +teaching people how to live when I haven't learned myself. It isn't as +if the heathen really needed me; I'm sure they'll come out all right in +the end." +</P> + +<P> +"I can't see how; if all the people who ought to go out to save them +stay at home as we do," argued Emma Jane. +</P> + +<P> +"Why, whatever God is, and wherever He is, He must always be there, +ready and waiting. He can't move about and miss people. It may take the +heathen a little longer to find Him, but God will make allowances, of +course. He knows if they live in such hot climates it must make them +lazy and slow; and the parrots and tigers and snakes and bread-fruit +trees distract their minds; and having no books, they can't think as +well; but they'll find God somehow, some time." +</P> + +<P> +"What if they die first?" asked Emma Jane. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, well, they can't be blamed for that; they don't die on purpose," +said Rebecca, with a comfortable theology. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +In these days Adam Ladd sometimes went to Temperance on business +connected with the proposed branch of the railroad familiarly known as +the "York and Yank 'em," and while there he gained an inkling of +Sunnybrook affairs. The building of the new road was not yet a +certainty, and there was a difference of opinion as to the best route +from Temperance to Plumville. In one event the way would lead directly +through Sunnybrook, from corner to corner, and Mrs. Randall would be +compensated; in the other, her interests would not be affected either +for good or ill, save as all land in the immediate neighborhood might +rise a little in value. +</P> + +<P> +Coming from Temperance to Wareham one day, Adam had a long walk and +talk with Rebecca, whom he thought looking pale and thin, though she +was holding bravely to her self-imposed hours of work. She was wearing +a black cashmere dress that had been her aunt Jane's second best. We +are familiar with the heroine of romance whose foot is so exquisitely +shaped that the coarsest shoe cannot conceal its perfections, and one +always cherishes a doubt of the statement; yet it is true that +Rebecca's peculiar and individual charm seemed wholly independent of +accessories. The lines of her figure, the rare coloring of skin and +hair and eyes, triumphed over shabby clothing, though, had the +advantage of artistic apparel been given her, the little world of +Wareham would probably at once have dubbed her a beauty. The long black +braids were now disposed after a quaint fashion of her own. They were +crossed behind, carried up to the front, and crossed again, the +tapering ends finally brought down and hidden in the thicker part at +the neck. Then a purely feminine touch was given to the hair that waved +back from the face,—a touch that rescued little crests and wavelets +from bondage and set them free to take a new color in the sun. +</P> + +<P> +Adam Ladd looked at her in a way that made her put her hands over her +face and laugh through them shyly as she said: "I know what you are +thinking, Mr. Aladdin,—that my dress is an inch longer than last year, +and my hair different; but I'm not nearly a young lady yet; truly I'm +not. Sixteen is a month off still, and you promised not to give me up +till my dress trails. If you don't like me to grow old, why don't you +grow young? Then we can meet in the halfway house and have nice times. +Now that I think about it," she continued, "that's just what you've +been doing all along. When you bought the soap, I thought you were +grandfather Sawyer's age; when you danced with me at the flag-raising, +you seemed like my father; but when you showed me your mother's +picture, I felt as if you were my John, because I was so sorry for you." +</P> + +<P> +"That will do very well," smiled Adam; "unless you go so swiftly that +you become my grandmother before I really need one. You are studying +too hard, Miss Rebecca Rowena!" +</P> + +<P> +"Just a little," she confessed. "But vacation comes soon, you know." +</P> + +<P> +"And are you going to have a good rest and try to recover your dimples? +They are really worth preserving." +</P> + +<P> +A shadow crept over Rebecca's face and her eyes suffused. "Don't be +kind, Mr. Aladdin, I can't bear it;—it's—it's not one of my dimply +days!" and she ran in at the seminary gate, and disappeared with a +farewell wave of her hand. +</P> + +<P> +Adam Ladd wended his way to the principal's office in a thoughtful +mood. He had come to Wareham to unfold a plan that he had been +considering for several days. This year was the fiftieth anniversary of +the founding of the Wareham schools, and he meant to tell Mr. Morrison +that in addition to his gift of a hundred volumes to the reference +library, he intended to celebrate it by offering prizes in English +composition, a subject in which he was much interested. He wished the +boys and girls of the two upper classes to compete; the award to be +made to the writers of the two best essays. As to the nature of the +prizes he had not quite made up his mind, but they would be substantial +ones, either of money or of books. +</P> + +<P> +This interview accomplished, he called upon Miss Maxwell, thinking as +he took the path through the woods, "Rose-Red-Snow-White needs the +help, and since there is no way of my giving it to her without causing +remark, she must earn it, poor little soul! I wonder if my money is +always to be useless where most I wish to spend it!" +</P> + +<P> +He had scarcely greeted his hostess when he said: "Miss Maxwell, +doesn't it strike you that our friend Rebecca looks wretchedly tired?" +</P> + +<P> +"She does indeed, and I am considering whether I can take her away with +me. I always go South for the spring vacation, traveling by sea to Old +Point Comfort, and rusticating in some quiet spot near by. I should +like nothing better than to have Rebecca for a companion." +</P> + +<P> +"The very thing!" assented Adam heartily; "but why should you take the +whole responsibility? Why not let me help? I am greatly interested in +the child, and have been for some years." +</P> + +<P> +"You needn't pretend you discovered her," interrupted Miss Maxwell +warmly, "for I did that myself." +</P> + +<P> +"She was an intimate friend of mine long before you ever came to +Wareham," laughed Adam, and he told Miss Maxwell the circumstances of +his first meeting with Rebecca. "From the beginning I've tried to think +of a way I could be useful in her development, but no reasonable +solution seemed to offer itself." +</P> + +<P> +"Luckily she attends to her own development," answered Miss Maxwell. +"In a sense she is independent of everything and everybody; she follows +her saint without being conscious of it. But she needs a hundred +practical things that money would buy for her, and alas! I have a +slender purse." +</P> + +<P> +"Take mine, I beg, and let me act through you," pleaded Adam. "I could +not bear to see even a young tree trying its best to grow without light +or air,—how much less a gifted child! I interviewed her aunts a year +ago, hoping I might be permitted to give her a musical education. I +assured them it was a most ordinary occurrence, and that I was willing +to be repaid later on if they insisted, but it was no use. The elder +Miss Sawyer remarked that no member of her family ever had lived on +charity, and she guessed they wouldn't begin at this late day." +</P> + +<P> +"I rather like that uncompromising New England grit," exclaimed Miss +Maxwell, "and so far, I don't regret one burden that Rebecca has borne +or one sorrow that she has shared. Necessity has only made her brave; +poverty has only made her daring and self-reliant. As to her present +needs, there are certain things only a woman ought to do for a girl, +and I should not like to have you do them for Rebecca; I should feel +that I was wounding her pride and self-respect, even though she were +ignorant; but there is no reason why I may not do them if necessary and +let you pay her traveling expenses. I would accept those for her +without the slightest embarrassment, but I agree that the matter would +better be kept private between us." +</P> + +<P> +"You are a real fairy godmother!" exclaimed Adam, shaking her hand +warmly. "Would it be less trouble for you to invite her room-mate +too,—the pink-and-white inseparable?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, thank you, I prefer to have Rebecca all to myself," said Miss +Maxwell. +</P> + +<P> +"I can understand that," replied Adam absent-mindedly; "I mean, of +course, that one child is less trouble than two. There she is now." +</P> + +<P> +Here Rebecca appeared in sight, walking down the quiet street with a +lad of sixteen. They were in animated conversation, and were apparently +reading something aloud to each other, for the black head and the curly +brown one were both bent over a sheet of letter paper. Rebecca kept +glancing up at her companion, her eyes sparkling with appreciation. +</P> + +<P> +"Miss Maxwell," said Adam, "I am a trustee of this institution, but +upon my word I don't believe in coeducation!" +</P> + +<P> +"I have my own occasional hours of doubt," she answered, "but surely +its disadvantages are reduced to a minimum with—children! That is a +very impressive sight which you are privileged to witness, Mr. Ladd. +The folk in Cambridge often gloated on the spectacle of Longfellow and +Lowell arm in arm. The little school world of Wareham palpitates with +excitement when it sees the senior and the junior editors of The Pilot +walking together!" +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap25"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +XXV +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +ROSES OF JOY +</H3> + +<P> +The day before Rebecca started for the South with Miss Maxwell she was +in the library with Emma Jane and Huldah, consulting dictionaries and +encyclopaedias. As they were leaving they passed the locked cases +containing the library of fiction, open to the teachers and +townspeople, but forbidden to the students. +</P> + +<P> +They looked longingly through the glass, getting some little comfort +from the titles of the volumes, as hungry children imbibe emotional +nourishment from the pies and tarts inside a confectioner's window. +Rebecca's eyes fell upon a new book in the corner, and she read the +name aloud with delight: "<I>The Rose of Joy</I>. Listen, girls; isn't that +lovely? <I>The Rose of Joy</I>. It looks beautiful, and it sounds beautiful. +What does it mean, I wonder?" +</P> + +<P> +"I guess everybody has a different rose," said Huldah shrewdly. "I know +what mine would be, and I'm not ashamed to own it. I'd like a year in a +city, with just as much money as I wanted to spend, horses and splendid +clothes and amusements every minute of the day; and I'd like above +everything to live with people that wear low necks." (Poor Huldah never +took off her dress without bewailing the fact that her lot was cast in +Riverboro, where her pretty white shoulders could never be seen.) +</P> + +<P> +"That would be fun, for a while anyway," Emma Jane remarked. "But +wouldn't that be pleasure more than joy? Oh, I've got an idea!" +</P> + +<P> +"Don't shriek so!" said the startled Huldah. "I thought it was a mouse." +</P> + +<P> +"I don't have them very often," apologized Emma Jane,—"ideas, I mean; +this one shook me like a stroke of lightning. Rebecca, couldn't it be +success?" +</P> + +<P> +"That's good," mused Rebecca; "I can see that success would be a joy, +but it doesn't seem to me like a rose, somehow. I was wondering if it +could be love?" +</P> + +<P> +"I wish we could have a peep at the book! It must be perfectly +elergant!" said Emma Jane. "But now you say it is love, I think that's +the best guess yet." +</P> + +<P> +All day long the four words haunted and possessed Rebecca; she said +them over to herself continually. Even the prosaic Emma Jane was +affected by them, for in the evening she said, "I don't expect you to +believe it, but I have another idea,—that's two in one day; I had it +while I was putting cologne on your head. The rose of joy might be +helpfulness." +</P> + +<P> +"If it is, then it is always blooming in your dear little heart, you +darlingest, kind Emmie, taking such good care of your troublesome +Becky!" +</P> + +<P> +"Don't dare to call yourself troublesome! You're—you're—you're my +rose of joy, that's what you are!" And the two girls hugged each other +affectionately. +</P> + +<P> +In the middle of the night Rebecca touched Emma Jane on the shoulder +softly. "Are you very fast asleep, Emmie?" she whispered. +</P> + +<P> +"Not so very," answered Emma Jane drowsily. +</P> + +<P> +"I've thought of something new. If you sang or painted or wrote,—not a +little, but beautifully, you know,—wouldn't the doing of it, just as +much as you wanted, give you the rose of joy?" +</P> + +<P> +"It might if it was a real talent," answered Emma Jane, "though I don't +like it so well as love. If you have another thought, Becky, keep it +till morning." +</P> + +<P> +"I did have one more inspiration," said Rebecca when they were dressing +next morning, "but I didn't wake you. I wondered if the rose of joy +could be sacrifice? But I think sacrifice would be a lily, not a rose; +don't you?" +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +The journey southward, the first glimpse of the ocean, the strange new +scenes, the ease and delicious freedom, the intimacy with Miss Maxwell, +almost intoxicated Rebecca. In three days she was not only herself +again, she was another self, thrilling with delight, anticipation, and +realization. She had always had such eager hunger for knowledge, such +thirst for love, such passionate longing for the music, the beauty, the +poetry of existence! She had always been straining to make the outward +world conform to her inward dreams, and now life had grown all at once +rich and sweet, wide and full. She was using all her natural, God-given +outlets; and Emily Maxwell marveled daily at the inexhaustible way in +which the girl poured out and gathered in the treasures of thought and +experience that belonged to her. She was a lifegiver, altering the +whole scheme of any picture she made a part of, by contributing new +values. Have you never seen the dull blues and greens of a room +changed, transfigured by a burst of sunshine? That seemed to Miss +Maxwell the effect of Rebecca on the groups of people with whom they +now and then mingled; but they were commonly alone, reading to each +other and having quiet talks. The prize essay was very much on +Rebecca's mind. Secretly she thought she could never be happy unless +she won it. She cared nothing for the value of it, and in this case +almost nothing for the honor; she wanted to please Mr. Aladdin and +justify his belief in her. +</P> + +<P> +"If I ever succeed in choosing a subject, I must ask if you think I can +write well on it; and then I suppose I must work in silence and secret, +never even reading the essay to you, nor talking about it." +</P> + +<P> +Miss Maxwell and Rebecca were sitting by a little brook on a sunny +spring day. They had been in a stretch of wood by the sea since +breakfast, going every now and then for a bask on the warm white sand, +and returning to their shady solitude when tired of the sun's glare. +</P> + +<P> +"The subject is very important," said Miss Maxwell, "but I do not dare +choose for you. Have you decided on anything yet?" +</P> + +<P> +"No," Rebecca answered; "I plan a new essay every night. I've begun one +on What is Failure? and another on He and She. That would be a dialogue +between a boy and girl just as they were leaving school, and would tell +their ideals of life. Then do you remember you said to me one day, +'Follow your Saint'? I'd love to write about that. I didn't have a +single thought in Wareham, and now I have a new one every minute, so I +must try and write the essay here; think it out, at any rate, while I +am so happy and free and rested. Look at the pebbles in the bottom of +the pool, Miss Emily, so round and smooth and shining." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, but where did they get that beautiful polish, that satin skin, +that lovely shape, Rebecca? Not in the still pool lying on the sands. +It was never there that their angles were rubbed off and their rough +surfaces polished, but in the strife and warfare of running waters. +They have jostled against other pebbles, dashed against sharp rocks, +and now we look at them and call them beautiful." +</P> + +<P> + "If Fate had not made somebody a teacher,<BR> + She might have been, oh! such a splendid preacher!"<BR> +</P> + +<P> +rhymed Rebecca. "Oh! if I could only think and speak as you do!" she +sighed. "I am so afraid I shall never get education enough to make a +good writer." +</P> + +<P> +"You could worry about plenty of other things to better advantage," +said Miss Maxwell, a little scornfully. "Be afraid, for instance, that +you won't understand human nature; that you won't realize the beauty of +the outer world; that you may lack sympathy, and thus never be able to +read a heart; that your faculty of expression may not keep pace with +your ideas,—a thousand things, every one of them more important to the +writer than the knowledge that is found in books. AEsop was a Greek +slave who could not even write down his wonderful fables; yet all the +world reads them." +</P> + +<P> +"I didn't know that," said Rebecca, with a half sob. "I didn't know +anything until I met you!" +</P> + +<P> +"You will only have had a high school course, but the most famous +universities do not always succeed in making men and women. When I long +to go abroad and study, I always remember that there were three great +schools in Athens and two in Jerusalem, but the Teacher of all teachers +came out of Nazareth, a little village hidden away from the bigger, +busier world." +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. Ladd says that you are almost wasted on Wareham," said Rebecca +thoughtfully. +</P> + +<P> +"He is wrong; my talent is not a great one, but no talent is wholly +wasted unless its owner chooses to hide it in a napkin. Remember that +of your own gifts, Rebecca; they may not be praised of men, but they +may cheer, console, inspire, perhaps, when and where you least expect. +The brimming glass that overflows its own rim moistens the earth about +it." +</P> + +<P> +"Did you ever hear of The Rose of Joy?" asked Rebecca, after a long +silence. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, of course; where did you see it?" +</P> + +<P> +"On the outside of a book in the library." +</P> + +<P> +"I saw it on the inside of a book in the library," smiled Miss Maxwell. +"It is from Emerson, but I'm afraid you haven't quite grown up to it, +Rebecca, and it is one of the things impossible to explain." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, try me, dear Miss Maxwell!" pleaded Rebecca. "Perhaps by thinking +hard I can guess a little bit what it means." +</P> + +<P> +"'In the actual—this painful kingdom of time and chance—are Care, +Canker, and Sorrow; with thought, with the Ideal, is immortal +hilarity—the rose of Joy; round it all the Muses sing,'" quoted Miss +Maxwell. +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca repeated it over and over again until she had learned it by +heart; then she said, "I don't want to be conceited, but I almost +believe I do understand it, Miss Maxwell. Not altogether, perhaps, +because it is puzzling and difficult; but a little, enough to go on +with. It's as if a splendid shape galloped past you on horseback; you +are so surprised and your eyes move so slowly you cannot half see it, +but you just catch a glimpse as it whisks by, and you know it is +beautiful. It's all settled. My essay is going to be called The Rose of +Joy. I've just decided. It hasn't any beginning, nor any middle, but +there will be a thrilling ending, something like this: let me see; joy, +boy, toy, ahoy, decoy, alloy:— +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + Then come what will of weal or woe<BR> + (Since all gold hath alloy),<BR> + Thou 'lt bloom unwithered in this heart,<BR> + My Rose of Joy!<BR> +</P> + +<P> +Now I'm going to tuck you up in the shawl and give you the fir pillow, +and while you sleep I am going down on the shore and write a fairy +story for you. It's one of our 'supposing' kind; it flies far, far into +the future, and makes beautiful things happen that may never really all +come to pass; but some of them will,—you'll see! and then you'll take +out the little fairy story from your desk and remember Rebecca." +</P> + +<P> +"I wonder why these young things always choose subjects that would tax +the powers of a great essayist!" thought Miss Maxwell, as she tried to +sleep. "Are they dazzled, captivated, taken possession of, by the +splendor of the theme, and do they fancy they can write up to it? Poor +little innocents, hitching their toy wagons to the stars! How pretty +this particular innocent looks under her new sunshade!" +</P> + +<P> +Adam Ladd had been driving through Boston streets on a cold spring day +when nature and the fashion-mongers were holding out promises which +seemed far from performance. Suddenly his vision was assailed by the +sight of a rose-colored parasol gayly unfurled in a shop window, +signaling the passer-by and setting him to dream of summer sunshine. It +reminded Adam of a New England apple-tree in full bloom, the outer +covering of deep pink shining through the thin white lining, and a +fluffy, fringe-like edge of mingled rose and cream dropping over the +green handle. All at once he remembered one of Rebecca's early +confidences,—the little pink sunshade that had given her the only peep +into the gay world of fashion that her childhood had ever known; her +adoration of the flimsy bit of finery and its tragic and sacrificial +end. He entered the shop, bought the extravagant bauble, and expressed +it to Wareham at once, not a single doubt of its appropriateness +crossing the darkness of his masculine mind. He thought only of the joy +in Rebecca's eyes; of the poise of her head under the apple-blossom +canopy. It was a trifle embarrassing to return an hour later and buy a +blue parasol for Emma Jane Perkins, but it seemed increasingly +difficult, as the years went on, to remember her existence at all the +proper times and seasons. +</P> + +<P> +This is Rebecca's fairy story, copied the next day and given to Emily +Maxwell just as she was going to her room for the night. She read it +with tears in her eyes and then sent it to Adam Ladd, thinking he had +earned a share in it, and that he deserved a glimpse of the girl's +budding imagination, as well as of her grateful young heart. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +A FAIRY STORY +</P> + +<P> +There was once a tired and rather poverty-stricken Princess who dwelt +in a cottage on the great highway between two cities. She was not as +unhappy as thousands of others; indeed, she had much to be grateful +for, but the life she lived and the work she did were full hard for one +who was fashioned slenderly. +</P> + +<P> +Now the cottage stood by the edge of a great green forest where the +wind was always singing in the branches and the sunshine filtering +through the leaves. +</P> + +<P> +And one day when the Princess was sitting by the wayside quite spent by +her labor in the fields, she saw a golden chariot rolling down the +King's Highway, and in it a person who could be none other than +somebody's Fairy Godmother on her way to the Court. The chariot halted +at her door, and though the Princess had read of such beneficent +personages, she never dreamed for an instant that one of them could +ever alight at her cottage. +</P> + +<P> +"If you are tired, poor little Princess, why do you not go into the +cool green forest and rest?" asked the Fairy Godmother. +</P> + +<P> +"Because I have no time," she answered. "I must go back to my plough." +</P> + +<P> +"Is that your plough leaning by the tree, and is it not too heavy?" +</P> + +<P> +"It is heavy," answered the Princess, "but I love to turn the hard +earth into soft furrows and know that I am making good soil wherein my +seeds may grow. When I feel the weight too much, I try to think of the +harvest." +</P> + +<P> +The golden chariot passed on, and the two talked no more together that +day; nevertheless the King's messengers were busy, for they whispered +one word into the ear of the Fairy Godmother and another into the ear +of the Princess, though so faintly that neither of them realized that +the King had spoken. +</P> + +<P> +The next morning a strong man knocked at the cottage door, and doffing +his hat to the Princess said: "A golden chariot passed me yesterday, +and one within it flung me a purse of ducats, saying: 'Go out into the +King's Highway and search until you find a cottage and a heavy plough +leaning against a tree near by. Enter and say to the Princess whom you +will find there: "I will guide the plough and you must go and rest, or +walk in the cool green forest; for this is the command of your Fairy +Godmother."'" +</P> + +<P> +And the same thing happened every day, and every day the tired Princess +walked in the green wood. Many times she caught the glitter of the +chariot and ran into the Highway to give thanks to the Fairy Godmother; +but she was never fleet enough to reach the spot. She could only stand +with eager eyes and longing heart as the chariot passed by. Yet she +never failed to catch a smile, and sometimes a word or two floated back +to her, words that sounded like: "I would not be thanked. We are all +children of the same King, and I am only his messenger." +</P> + +<P> +Now as the Princess walked daily in the green forest, hearing the wind +singing in the branches and seeing the sunlight filter through the +lattice-work of green leaves, there came unto her thoughts that had +lain asleep in the stifling air of the cottage and the weariness of +guiding the plough. And by and by she took a needle from her girdle and +pricked the thoughts on the leaves of the trees and sent them into the +air to float hither and thither. And it came to pass that people began +to pick them up, and holding them against the sun, to read what was +written on them, and this was because the simple little words on the +leaves were only, after all, a part of one of the King's messages, such +as the Fairy Godmother dropped continually from her golden chariot. +</P> + +<P> +But the miracle of the story lies deeper than all this. +</P> + +<P> +Whenever the Princess pricked the words upon the leaves she added a +thought of her Fairy Godmother, and folding it close within, sent the +leaf out on the breeze to float hither and thither and fall where it +would. And many other little Princesses felt the same impulse and did +the same thing. And as nothing is ever lost in the King's Dominion, so +these thoughts and wishes and hopes, being full of love and gratitude, +had no power to die, but took unto themselves other shapes and lived on +forever. They cannot be seen, our vision is too weak; nor heard, our +hearing is too dull; but they can sometimes be felt, and we know not +what force is stirring our hearts to nobler aims. +</P> + +<P> +The end of the story is not come, but it may be that some day when the +Fairy Godmother has a message to deliver in person straight to the +King, he will say: "Your face I know; your voice, your thoughts, and +your heart. I have heard the rumble of your chariot wheels on the great +Highway, and I knew that you were on the King's business. Here in my +hand is a sheaf of messages from every quarter of my kingdom. They were +delivered by weary and footsore travelers, who said that they could +never have reached the gate in safety had it not been for your help and +inspiration. Read them, that you may know when and where and how you +sped the King's service." +</P> + +<P> +And when the Fairy Godmother reads them, it may be that sweet odors +will rise from the pages, and half-forgotten memories will stir the +air; but in the gladness of the moment nothing will be half so lovely +as the voice of the King when he said: "Read, and know how you sped the +King's service." +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +Rebecca Rowena Randall +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap26"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +XXVI +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +"OVER THE TEACUPS" +</H3> + +<P> +The summer term at Wareham had ended, and Huldah Meserve, Dick Carter, +and Living Perkins had finished school, leaving Rebecca and Emma Jane +to represent Riverboro in the year to come. Delia Weeks was at home +from Lewiston on a brief visit, and Mrs. Robinson was celebrating the +occasion by a small and select party, the particular day having been +set because strawberries were ripe and there was a rooster that wanted +killing. Mrs. Robinson explained this to her husband, and requested +that he eat his dinner on the carpenter's bench in the shed, as the +party was to be a ladies' affair. +</P> + +<P> +"All right; it won't be any loss to me," said Mr. Robinson. "Give me +beans, that's all I ask. When a rooster wants to be killed, I want +somebody else to eat him, not me!" +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Robinson had company only once or twice a year, and was generally +much prostrated for several days afterward, the struggle between pride +and parsimony being quite too great a strain upon her. It was +necessary, in order to maintain her standing in the community, to +furnish a good "set out," yet the extravagance of the proceeding goaded +her from the first moment she began to stir the marble cake to the +moment when the feast appeared upon the table. +</P> + +<P> +The rooster had been boiling steadily over a slow fire since morning, +but such was his power of resistance that his shape was as firm and +handsome in the pot as on the first moment when he was lowered into it. +</P> + +<P> +"He ain't goin' to give up!" said Alice, peering nervously under the +cover, "and he looks like a scarecrow." +</P> + +<P> +"We'll see whether he gives up or not when I take a sharp knife to +him," her mother answered; "and as to his looks, a platter full o' +gravy makes a sight o' difference with old roosters, and I'll put +dumplings round the aidge; they're turrible fillin', though they don't +belong with boiled chicken." +</P> + +<P> +The rooster did indeed make an impressive showing, lying in his border +of dumplings, and the dish was much complimented when it was borne in +by Alice. This was fortunate, as the chorus of admiration ceased +abruptly when the ladies began to eat the fowl. +</P> + +<P> +"I was glad you could git over to Huldy's graduation, Delia," said Mrs. +Meserve, who sat at the foot of the table and helped the chicken while +Mrs. Robinson poured coffee at the other end. She was a fit mother for +Huldah, being much the most stylish person in Riverboro; ill health and +dress were, indeed, her two chief enjoyments in life. It was rumored +that her elaborately curled "front piece" had cost five dollars, and +that it was sent into Portland twice a year to be dressed and frizzed; +but it is extremely difficult to discover the precise facts in such +cases, and a conscientious historian always prefers to warn a too +credulous reader against imbibing as gospel truth something that might +be the basest perversion of it. As to Mrs. Meserve's appearance, have +you ever, in earlier years, sought the comforting society of the cook +and hung over the kitchen table while she rolled out sugar gingerbread? +Perhaps then, in some unaccustomed moment of amiability, she made you a +dough lady, cutting the outline deftly with her pastry knife, and then, +at last, placing the human stamp upon it by sticking in two black +currants for eyes. Just call to mind the face of that sugar gingerbread +lady and you will have an exact portrait of Huldah's mother,—Mis' +Peter Meserve, she was generally called, there being several others. +</P> + +<P> +"How'd you like Huldy's dress, Delia?" she asked, snapping the elastic +in her black jet bracelets after an irritating fashion she had. +</P> + +<P> +"I thought it was about the handsomest of any," answered Delia; "and +her composition was first rate. It was the only real amusin' one there +was, and she read it so loud and clear we didn't miss any of it; most +o' the girls spoke as if they had hasty pudtin' in their mouths." +</P> + +<P> +"That was the composition she wrote for Adam Ladd's prize," explained +Mrs. Meserve, "and they do say she'd 'a' come out first, 'stead o' +fourth, if her subject had been dif'rent. There was three ministers and +three deacons on the committee, and it was only natural they should +choose a serious piece; hers was too lively to suit 'em." +</P> + +<P> +Huldah's inspiring theme had been Boys, and she certainly had a fund of +knowledge and experience that fitted her to write most intelligently +upon it. It was vastly popular with the audience, who enjoyed the +rather cheap jokes and allusions with which it coruscated; but judged +from a purely literary standpoint, it left much to be desired. +</P> + +<P> +"Rebecca's piece wan't read out loud, but the one that took the boy's +prize was; why was that?" asked Mrs. Robinson. +</P> + +<P> +"Because she wan't graduatin'," explained Mrs. Cobb, "and couldn't take +part in the exercises; it'll be printed, with Herbert Dunn's, in the +school paper." +</P> + +<P> +"I'm glad o' that, for I'll never believe it was better 'n Huldy's till +I read it with my own eyes; it seems as if the prize ought to 'a' gone +to one of the seniors." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, no, Marthy, not if Ladd offered it to any of the two upper +classes that wanted to try for it," argued Mrs. Robinson. "They say +they asked him to give out the prizes, and he refused, up and down. It +seems odd, his bein' so rich and travelin' about all over the country, +that he was too modest to git up on that platform." +</P> + +<P> +"My Huldy could 'a' done it, and not winked an eyelash," observed Mrs. +Meserve complacently; a remark which there seemed no disposition on the +part of any of the company to controvert. +</P> + +<P> +"It was complete, though, the governor happening to be there to see his +niece graduate," said Delia Weeks. "Land! he looked elegant! They say +he's only six feet, but he might 'a' been sixteen, and he certainly did +make a fine speech." +</P> + +<P> +"Did you notice Rebecca, how white she was, and how she trembled when +she and Herbert Dunn stood there while the governor was praisin' 'em? +He'd read her composition, too, for he wrote the Sawyer girls a letter +about it." This remark was from the sympathetic Mrs. Cobb. +</P> + +<P> +"I thought 't was kind o' foolish, his makin' so much of her when it +wan't her graduation," objected Mrs. Meserve; "layin' his hand on her +head 'n' all that, as if he was a Pope pronouncin' benediction. But +there! I'm glad the prize come to Riverboro 't any rate, and a +han'somer one never was give out from the Wareham platform. I guess +there ain't no end to Adam Ladd's money. The fifty dollars would 'a' +been good enough, but he must needs go and put it into those elegant +purses." +</P> + +<P> +"I set so fur back I couldn't see 'em fairly," complained Delia, "and +now Rebecca has taken hers home to show her mother." +</P> + +<P> +"It was kind of a gold net bag with a chain," said Mrs. Perkins, "and +there was five ten-dollar gold pieces in it. Herbert Dunn's was put in +a fine leather wallet." +</P> + +<P> +"How long is Rebecca goin' to stay at the farm?" asked Delia. +</P> + +<P> +"Till they get over Hannah's bein' married, and get the house to +runnin' without her," answered Mrs. Perkins. "It seems as if Hannah +might 'a' waited a little longer. Aurelia was set against her goin' +away while Rebecca was at school, but she's obstinate as a mule, Hannah +is, and she just took her own way in spite of her mother. She's been +doin' her sewin' for a year; the awfullest coarse cotton cloth she had, +but she's nearly blinded herself with fine stitchin' and rufflin' and +tuckin'. Did you hear about the quilt she made? It's white, and has a +big bunch o' grapes in the centre, quilted by a thimble top. Then +there's a row of circle-borderin' round the grapes, and she done them +the size of a spool. The next border was done with a sherry glass, and +the last with a port glass, an' all outside o' that was solid stitchin' +done in straight rows; she's goin' to exhibit it at the county fair." +</P> + +<P> +"She'd better 'a' been takin' in sewin' and earnin' money, 'stead o' +blindin' her eyes on such foolishness as quilted counterpanes," said +Mrs. Cobb. "The next thing you know that mortgage will be foreclosed on +Mis' Randall, and she and the children won't have a roof over their +heads." +</P> + +<P> +"Don't they say there's a good chance of the railroad goin' through her +place?" asked Mrs. Robinson. "If it does, she'll git as much as the +farm is worth and more. Adam Ladd 's one of the stockholders, and +everything is a success he takes holt of. They're fightin' it in +Augusty, but I'd back Ladd agin any o' them legislaters if he thought +he was in the right." +</P> + +<P> +"Rebecca'll have some new clothes now," said Delia, "and the land knows +she needs 'em. Seems to me the Sawyer girls are gittin' turrible near!" +</P> + +<P> +"Rebecca won't have any new clothes out o' the prize money," remarked +Mrs. Perkins, "for she sent it away the next day to pay the interest on +that mortgage." +</P> + +<P> +"Poor little girl!" exclaimed Delia Weeks. +</P> + +<P> +"She might as well help along her folks as spend it on foolishness," +affirmed Mrs. Robinson. "I think she was mighty lucky to git it to pay +the interest with, but she's probably like all the Randalls; it was +easy come, easy go, with them." +</P> + +<P> +"That's more than could be said of the Sawyer stock," retorted Mrs. +Perkins; "seems like they enjoyed savin' more'n anything in the world, +and it's gainin' on Mirandy sence her shock." +</P> + +<P> +"I don't believe it was a shock; it stands to reason she'd never 'a' +got up after it and been so smart as she is now; we had three o' the +worst shocks in our family that there ever was on this river, and I +know every symptom of 'em better'n the doctors." And Mrs. Peter Meserve +shook her head wisely. +</P> + +<P> +"Mirandy 's smart enough," said Mrs. Cobb, "but you notice she stays +right to home, and she's more close-mouthed than ever she was; never +took a mite o' pride in the prize, as I could see, though it pretty +nigh drove Jeremiah out o' his senses. I thought I should 'a' died o' +shame when he cried 'Hooray!' and swung his straw hat when the governor +shook hands with Rebecca. It's lucky he couldn't get fur into the +church and had to stand back by the door, for as it was, he made a +spectacle of himself. My suspicion is"—and here every lady stopped +eating and sat up straight—"that the Sawyer girls have lost money. +They don't know a thing about business 'n' never did, and Mirandy's too +secretive and contrairy to ask advice." +</P> + +<P> +"The most o' what they've got is in gov'ment bonds, I always heard, and +you can't lose money on them. Jane had the timber land left her, an' +Mirandy had the brick house. She probably took it awful hard that +Rebecca's fifty dollars had to be swallowed up in a mortgage, 'stead of +goin' towards school expenses. The more I think of it, the more I think +Adam Ladd intended Rebecca should have that prize when he gave it." The +mind of Huldah's mother ran towards the idea that her daughter's rights +had been assailed. +</P> + +<P> +"Land, Marthy, what foolishness you talk!" exclaimed Mrs. Perkins; "you +don't suppose he could tell what composition the committee was going to +choose; and why should he offer another fifty dollars for a boy's +prize, if he wan't interested in helpin' along the school? He's give +Emma Jane about the same present as Rebecca every Christmas for five +years; that's the way he does." +</P> + +<P> +"Some time he'll forget one of 'em and give to the other, or drop 'em +both and give to some new girl!" said Delia Weeks, with an experience +born of fifty years of spinsterhood. +</P> + +<P> +"Like as not," assented Mrs. Peter Meserve, "though it's easy to see he +ain't the marryin' kind. There's men that would marry once a year if +their wives would die fast enough, and there's men that seems to want +to live alone." +</P> + +<P> +"If Ladd was a Mormon, I guess he could have every woman in North +Riverboro that's a suitable age, accordin' to what my cousins say," +remarked Mrs. Perkins. +</P> + +<P> +"'T ain't likely he could be ketched by any North Riverboro girl," +demurred Mrs. Robinson; "not when he prob'bly has had the pick o' +Boston. I guess Marthy hit it when she said there's men that ain't the +marryin' kind." +</P> + +<P> +"I wouldn't trust any of 'em when Miss Right comes along!" laughed Mrs. +Cobb genially. "You never can tell what 'n' who 's goin' to please 'em. +You know Jeremiah's contrairy horse, Buster? He won't let anybody put +the bit into his mouth if he can help it. He'll fight Jerry, and fight +me, till he has to give in. Rebecca didn't know nothin' about his +tricks, and the other day she went int' the barn to hitch up. I +followed right along, knowing she'd have trouble with the headstall, +and I declare if she wan't pattin' Buster's nose and talkin' to him, +and when she put her little fingers into his mouth he opened it so fur +I thought he'd swaller her, for sure. He jest smacked his lips over the +bit as if 't was a lump o' sugar. 'Land, Rebecca,' I says, 'how'd you +persuade him to take the bit?' 'I didn't,' she says, 'he seemed to want +it; perhaps he's tired of his stall and wants to get out in the fresh +air.'" +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap27"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +XXVII +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +"THE VISION SPLENDID" +</H3> + +<P> +A year had elapsed since Adam Ladd's prize had been discussed over the +teacups in Riverboro. The months had come and gone, and at length the +great day had dawned for Rebecca,—the day to which she had been +looking forward for five years, as the first goal to be reached on her +little journey through the world. School-days were ended, and the +mystic function known to the initiated as "graduation" was about to be +celebrated; it was even now heralded by the sun dawning in the eastern +sky. Rebecca stole softly out of bed, crept to the window, threw open +the blinds, and welcomed the rosy light that meant a cloudless morning. +Even the sun looked different somehow,—larger, redder, more important +than usual; and if it were really so, there was no member of the +graduating class who would have thought it strange or unbecoming, in +view of all the circumstances. Emma Jane stirred on her pillow, woke, +and seeing Rebecca at the window, came and knelt on the floor beside +her. "It's going to be pleasant!" she sighed gratefully. "If it wasn't +wicked, I could thank the Lord, I'm so relieved in mind! Did you sleep?" +</P> + +<P> +"Not much; the words of my class poem kept running through my head, and +the accompaniments of the songs; and worse than anything, Mary Queen of +Scots' prayer in Latin; it seemed as if +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + "'Adoro, imploro,<BR> + Ut liberes me!'<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +were burned into my brain." +</P> + +<P> +No one who is unfamiliar with life in rural neighborhoods can imagine +the gravity, the importance, the solemnity of this last day of school. +In the matter of preparation, wealth of detail, and general excitement +it far surpasses a wedding; for that is commonly a simple affair in the +country, sometimes even beginning and ending in a visit to the +parsonage. Nothing quite equals graduation in the minds of the +graduates themselves, their families, and the younger students, unless +it be the inauguration of a governor at the State Capitol. Wareham, +then, was shaken to its very centre on this day of days. Mothers and +fathers of the scholars, as well as relatives to the remotest +generation, had been coming on the train and driving into the town +since breakfast time; old pupils, both married and single, with and +without families, streamed back to the dear old village. The two livery +stables were crowded with vehicles of all sorts, and lines of buggies +and wagons were drawn up along the sides of the shady roads, the horses +switching their tails in luxurious idleness. The streets were filled +with people wearing their best clothes, and the fashions included not +only "the latest thing," but the well preserved relic of a bygone day. +There were all sorts and conditions of men and women, for there were +sons and daughters of storekeepers, lawyers, butchers, doctors, +shoemakers, professors, ministers, and farmers at the Wareham schools, +either as boarders or day scholars. In the seminary building there was +an excitement so deep and profound that it expressed itself in a kind +of hushed silence, a transient suspension of life, as those most +interested approached the crucial moment. The feminine graduates-to-be +were seated in their own bedrooms, dressed with a completeness of +detail to which all their past lives seemed to have been but a prelude. +At least, this was the case with their bodies; but their heads, owing +to the extreme heat of the day, were one and all ornamented with leads, +or papers, or dozens of little braids, to issue later in every sort of +curl known to the girl of that period. Rolling the hair on leads or +papers was a favorite method of attaining the desired result, and +though it often entailed a sleepless night, there were those who gladly +paid the price. Others, in whose veins the blood of martyrs did not +flow, substituted rags for leads and pretended that they made a more +natural and less woolly curl. Heat, however, will melt the proudest +head and reduce to fiddling strings the finest product of the +waving-pin; so anxious mothers were stationed over their offspring, +waving palm-leaf fans, it having been decided that the supreme instant +when the town clock struck ten should be the one chosen for releasing +the prisoners from their self-imposed tortures. +</P> + +<P> +Dotted or plain Swiss muslin was the favorite garb, though there were +those who were steaming in white cashmere or alpaca, because in some +cases such frocks were thought more useful afterwards. Blue and pink +waist ribbons were lying over the backs of chairs, and the girl who had +a Roman sash was praying that she might be kept from vanity and pride. +</P> + +<P> +The way to any graduating dress at all had not seemed clear to Rebecca +until a month before. Then, in company with Emma Jane, she visited the +Perkins attic, found piece after piece of white butter-muslin or +cheesecloth, and decided that, at a pinch, it would do. The "rich +blacksmith's daughter" cast the thought of dotted Swiss behind her, and +elected to follow Rebecca in cheesecloth as she had in higher matters; +straightway devising costumes that included such drawing of threads, +such hemstitching and pin-tucking, such insertions of fine thread +tatting that, in order to be finished, Rebecca's dress was given out in +sections,—the sash to Hannah, waist and sleeves to Mrs. Cobb, and +skirt to aunt Jane. The stitches that went into the despised material, +worth only three or four pennies a yard, made the dresses altogether +lovely, and as for the folds and lines into which they fell, they could +have given points to satins and brocades. +</P> + +<P> +The two girls were waiting in their room alone, Emma Jane in rather a +tearful state of mind. She kept thinking that it was the last day that +they would be together in this altogether sweet and close intimacy. The +beginning of the end seemed to have dawned, for two positions had been +offered Rebecca by Mr. Morrison the day before: one in which she would +play for singing and calisthenics, and superintend the piano practice +of the younger girls in a boarding-school; the other an assistant's +place in the Edgewood High School. Both were very modest as to salary, +but the former included educational advantages that Miss Maxwell +thought might be valuable. +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca's mood had passed from that of excitement into a sort of +exaltation, and when the first bell rang through the corridors +announcing that in five minutes the class would proceed in a body to +the church for the exercises, she stood motionless and speechless at +the window with her hand on her heart. +</P> + +<P> +"It is coming, Emmie," she said presently; "do you remember in The Mill +on the Floss, when Maggie Tulliver closed the golden gates of childhood +behind her? I can almost see them swing; almost hear them clang; and I +can't tell whether I am glad or sorry." +</P> + +<P> +"I shouldn't care how they swung or clanged," said Emma Jane, "if only +you and I were on the same side of the gate; but we shan't be, I know +we shan't!" +</P> + +<P> +"Emmie, don't dare to cry, for I'm just on the brink myself! If only +you were graduating with me; that's my only sorrow! There! I hear the +rumble of the wheels! People will be seeing our grand surprise now! Hug +me once for luck, dear Emmie; a careful hug, remembering our +butter-muslin frailty!" +</P> + +<P> +Ten minutes later, Adam Ladd, who had just arrived from Portland and +was wending his way to the church, came suddenly into the main street +and stopped short under a tree by the wayside, riveted to the spot by a +scene of picturesque loveliness such as his eyes had seldom witnessed +before. The class of which Rebecca was president was not likely to +follow accepted customs. Instead of marching two by two from the +seminary to the church, they had elected to proceed thither by royal +chariot. A haycart had been decked with green vines and bunches of +long-stemmed field daisies, those gay darlings of New England meadows. +Every inch of the rail, the body, even the spokes, all were twined with +yellow and green and white. There were two white horses, flower-trimmed +reins, and in the floral bower, seated on maple boughs, were the twelve +girls of the class, while the ten boys marched on either side of the +vehicle, wearing buttonhole bouquets of daisies, the class flower. +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca drove, seated on a green-covered bench that looked not unlike a +throne. No girl clad in white muslin, no happy girl of seventeen, is +plain; and the twelve little country maids, from the vantage ground of +their setting, looked beautiful, as the June sunlight filtered down on +their uncovered heads, showing their bright eyes, their fresh cheeks, +their smiles, and their dimples. +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca, Adam thought, as he took off his hat and saluted the pretty +panorama,—Rebecca, with her tall slenderness, her thoughtful brow, the +fire of young joy in her face, her fillet of dark braided hair, might +have been a young Muse or Sibyl; and the flowery hayrack, with its +freight of blooming girlhood, might have been painted as an allegorical +picture of The Morning of Life. It all passed him, as he stood under +the elms in the old village street where his mother had walked half a +century ago, and he was turning with the crowd towards the church when +he heard a little sob. Behind a hedge in the garden near where he was +standing was a forlorn person in white, whose neat nose, chestnut hair, +and blue eyes he seemed to know. He stepped inside the gate and said, +"What's wrong, Miss Emma?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, is it you, Mr. Ladd? Rebecca wouldn't let me cry for fear of +spoiling my looks, but I must have just one chance before I go in. I +can be as homely as I like, after all, for I only have to sing with the +school; I'm not graduating, I'm just leaving! Not that I mind that; +it's only being separated from Rebecca that I never can stand!" +</P> + +<P> +The two walked along together, Adam comforting the disconsolate Emma +Jane, until they reached the old meeting-house where the Commencement +exercises were always held. The interior, with its decorations of +yellow, green, and white, was crowded, the air hot and breathless, the +essays and songs and recitations precisely like all others that have +been since the world began. One always fears that the platform may sink +under the weight of youthful platitudes uttered on such occasions; yet +one can never be properly critical, because the sight of the boys and +girls themselves, those young and hopeful makers of to-morrow, disarms +one's scorn. We yawn desperately at the essays, but our hearts go out +to the essayists, all the same, for "the vision splendid" is shining in +their eyes, and there is no fear of "th' inevitable yoke" that the +years are so surely bringing them. +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca saw Hannah and her husband in the audience; dear old John and +cousin Ann also, and felt a pang at the absence of her mother, though +she had known there was no possibility of seeing her; for poor Aurelia +was kept at Sunnybrook by cares of children and farm, and lack of money +either for the journey or for suitable dress. The Cobbs she saw too. No +one, indeed, could fail to see uncle Jerry; for he shed tears more than +once, and in the intervals between the essays descanted to his +neighbors concerning the marvelous gifts of one of the graduating class +whom he had known ever since she was a child; in fact, had driven her +from Maplewood to Riverboro when she left her home, and he had told +mother that same night that there wan't nary rung on the ladder o' fame +that that child wouldn't mount before she got through with it. +</P> + +<P> +The Cobbs, then, had come, and there were other Riverboro faces, but +where was aunt Jane, in her black silk made over especially for this +occasion? Aunt Miranda had not intended to come, she knew, but where, +on this day of days, was her beloved aunt Jane? However, this thought, +like all others, came and went in a flash, for the whole morning was +like a series of magic lantern pictures, crossing and recrossing her +field of vision. She played, she sang, she recited Queen Mary's Latin +prayer, like one in a dream, only brought to consciousness by meeting +Mr. Aladdin's eyes as she spoke the last line. Then at the end of the +programme came her class poem, Makers of To-morrow; and there, as on +many a former occasion, her personality played so great a part that she +seemed to be uttering Miltonic sentiments instead of school-girl verse. +Her voice, her eyes, her body breathed conviction, earnestness, +emotion; and when she left the platform the audience felt that they had +listened to a masterpiece. Most of her hearers knew little of Carlyle +or Emerson, or they might have remembered that the one said, "We are +all poets when we read a poem well," and the other, "'T is the good +reader makes the good book." +</P> + +<P> +It was over! The diplomas had been presented, and each girl, after +giving furtive touches to her hair, sly tweaks to her muslin skirts, +and caressing pats to her sash, had gone forward to receive the roll of +parchment with a bow that had been the subject of anxious thought for +weeks. Rounds of applause greeted each graduate at this thrilling +moment, and Jeremiah Cobb's behavior, when Rebecca came forward, was +the talk of Wareham and Riverboro for days. Old Mrs. Webb avowed that +he, in the space of two hours, had worn out her pew more—the carpet, +the cushions, and woodwork—than she had by sitting in it forty years. +Yes, it was over, and after the crowd had thinned a little, Adam Ladd +made his way to the platform. Rebecca turned from speaking to some +strangers and met him in the aisle. "Oh, Mr. Aladdin, I am so glad you +could come! Tell me"—and she looked at him half shyly, for his +approval was dearer to her, and more difficult to win, than that of the +others—"tell me, Mr. Aladdin,—were you satisfied?" +</P> + +<P> +"More than satisfied!" he said; "glad I met the child, proud I know the +girl, longing to meet the woman!" +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap28"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +XXVIII +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +"TH' INEVITABLE YOKE" +</H3> + +<P> +Rebecca's heart beat high at this sweet praise from her hero's lips, +but before she had found words to thank him, Mr. and Mrs. Cobb, who had +been modestly biding their time in a corner, approached her and she +introduced them to Mr. Ladd. +</P> + +<P> +"Where, where is aunt Jane?" she cried, holding aunt Sarah's hand on +one side and uncle Jerry's on the other. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm sorry, lovey, but we've got bad news for you." +</P> + +<P> +"Is aunt Miranda worse? She is; I can see it by your looks;" and +Rebecca's color faded. +</P> + +<P> +"She had a second stroke yesterday morning jest when she was helpin' +Jane lay out her things to come here to-day. Jane said you wan't to +know anything about it till the exercises was all over, and we promised +to keep it secret till then." +</P> + +<P> +"I will go right home with you, aunt Sarah. I must just run to tell +Miss Maxwell, for after I had packed up to-morrow I was going to +Brunswick with her. Poor aunt Miranda! And I have been so gay and happy +all day, except that I was longing for mother and aunt Jane." +</P> + +<P> +"There ain't no harm in bein' gay, lovey; that's what Jane wanted you +to be. And Miranda's got her speech back, for your aunt has just sent a +letter sayin' she's better; and I'm goin' to set up to-night, so you +can stay here and have a good sleep, and get your things together +comfortably to-morrow." +</P> + +<P> +"I'll pack your trunk for you, Becky dear, and attend to all our room +things," said Emma Jane, who had come towards the group and heard the +sorrowful news from the brick house. +</P> + +<P> +They moved into one of the quiet side pews, where Hannah and her +husband and John joined them. From time to time some straggling +acquaintance or old schoolmate would come up to congratulate Rebecca +and ask why she had hidden herself in a corner. Then some member of the +class would call to her excitedly, reminding her not to be late at the +picnic luncheon, or begging her to be early at the class party in the +evening. All this had an air of unreality to Rebecca. In the midst of +the happy excitement of the last two days, when "blushing honors" had +been falling thick upon her, and behind the delicious exaltation of the +morning, had been the feeling that the condition was a transient one, +and that the burden, the struggle, the anxiety, would soon loom again +on the horizon. She longed to steal away into the woods with dear old +John, grown so manly and handsome, and get some comfort from him. +</P> + +<P> +Meantime Adam Ladd and Mr. Cobb had been having an animated +conversation. +</P> + +<P> +"I s'pose up to Boston, girls like that one are as thick as +blackb'ries?" uncle Jerry said, jerking his head interrogatively in +Rebecca's direction. +</P> + +<P> +"They may be," smiled Adam, taking in the old man's mood; "only I don't +happen to know one." +</P> + +<P> +"My eyesight bein' poor 's the reason she looked han'somest of any girl +on the platform, I s'pose?" +</P> + +<P> +"There's no failure in my eyes," responded Adam, "but that was how the +thing seemed to me!" +</P> + +<P> +"What did you think of her voice? Anything extry about it?" +</P> + +<P> +"Made the others sound poor and thin, I thought." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I'm glad to hear your opinion, you bein' a traveled man, for +mother says I'm foolish 'bout Rebecky and hev been sence the fust. +Mother scolds me for spoilin' her, but I notice mother ain't fur behind +when it comes to spoilin'. Land! it made me sick, thinkin' o' them +parents travelin' miles to see their young ones graduate, and then when +they got here hevin' to compare 'em with Rebecky. Good-by, Mr. Ladd, +drop in some day when you come to Riverboro." +</P> + +<P> +"I will," said Adam, shaking the old man's hand cordially; "perhaps +to-morrow if I drive Rebecca home, as I shall offer to do. Do you think +Miss Sawyer's condition is serious?" +</P> + +<P> +"Well, the doctor don't seem to know; but anyhow she's paralyzed, and +she'll never walk fur again, poor soul! She ain't lost her speech; +that'll be a comfort to her." +</P> + +<P> +Adam left the church, and in crossing the common came upon Miss Maxwell +doing the honors of the institution, as she passed from group to group +of strangers and guests. Knowing that she was deeply interested in all +Rebecca's plans, he told her, as he drew her aside, that the girl would +have to leave Wareham for Riverboro the next day. +</P> + +<P> +"That is almost more than I can bear!" exclaimed Miss Maxwell, sitting +down on a bench and stabbing the greensward with her parasol. "It seems +to me Rebecca never has any respite. I had so many plans for her this +next month in fitting her for her position, and now she will settle +down to housework again, and to the nursing of that poor, sick, cross +old aunt." +</P> + +<P> +"If it had not been for the cross old aunt, Rebecca would still have +been at Sunnybrook; and from the standpoint of educational advantages, +or indeed advantages of any sort, she might as well have been in the +backwoods," returned Adam. +</P> + +<P> +"That is true; I was vexed when I spoke, for I thought an easier and +happier day was dawning for my prodigy and pearl." +</P> + +<P> +"OUR prodigy and pearl," corrected Adam. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, yes!" she laughed. "I always forget that it pleases you to pretend +you discovered Rebecca." +</P> + +<P> +"I believe, though, that happier days are dawning for her," continued +Adam. "It must be a secret for the present, but Mrs. Randall's farm +will be bought by the new railroad. We must have right of way through +the land, and the station will be built on her property. She will +receive six thousand dollars, which, though not a fortune, will yield +her three or four hundred dollars a year, if she will allow me to +invest it for her. There is a mortgage on the land; that paid, and +Rebecca self-supporting, the mother ought to push the education of the +oldest boy, who is a fine, ambitious fellow. He should be taken away +from farm work and settled at his studies." +</P> + +<P> +"We might form ourselves into a Randall Protective Agency, Limited," +mused Miss Maxwell. "I confess I want Rebecca to have a career." +</P> + +<P> +"I don't," said Adam promptly. +</P> + +<P> +"Of course you don't. Men have no interest in the careers of women! But +I know Rebecca better than you." +</P> + +<P> +"You understand her mind better, but not necessarily her heart. You are +considering her for the moment as prodigy; I am thinking of her more as +pearl." +</P> + +<P> +"Well," sighed Miss Maxwell whimsically, "prodigy or pearl, the Randall +Protective Agency may pull Rebecca in opposite directions, but +nevertheless she will follow her saint." +</P> + +<P> +"That will content me," said Adam gravely. +</P> + +<P> +"Particularly if the saint beckons your way." And Miss Maxwell looked +up and smiled provokingly. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Rebecca did not see her aunt Miranda till she had been at the brick +house for several days. Miranda steadily refused to have any one but +Jane in the room until her face had regained its natural look, but her +door was always ajar, and Jane fancied she liked to hear Rebecca's +quick, light step. Her mind was perfectly clear now, and, save that she +could not move, she was most of the time quite free from pain, and +alert in every nerve to all that was going on within or without the +house. "Were the windfall apples being picked up for sauce; were the +potatoes thick in the hills; was the corn tosselin' out; were they +cuttin' the upper field; were they keepin' fly-paper laid out +everywheres; were there any ants in the dairy; was the kindlin' wood +holdin' out; had the bank sent the cowpons?" +</P> + +<P> +Poor Miranda Sawyer! Hovering on the verge of the great beyond,—her +body "struck" and no longer under control of her iron will,—no divine +visions floated across her tired brain; nothing but petty cares and +sordid anxieties. Not all at once can the soul talk with God, be He +ever so near. If the heavenly language never has been learned, quick as +is the spiritual sense in seizing the facts it needs, then the poor +soul must use the words and phrases it has lived on and grown into day +by day. Poor Miss Miranda!—held fast within the prison walls of her +own nature, blind in the presence of revelation because she had never +used the spiritual eye, deaf to angelic voices because she had not used +the spiritual ear. +</P> + +<P> +There came a morning when she asked for Rebecca. The door was opened +into the dim sick-room, and Rebecca stood there with the sunlight +behind her, her hands full of sweet peas. Miranda's pale, sharp face, +framed in its nightcap, looked haggard on the pillow, and her body was +pitifully still under the counterpane. +</P> + +<P> +"Come in," she said; "I ain't dead yet. Don't mess up the bed with them +flowers, will ye?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, no! They're going in a glass pitcher," said Rebecca, turning to +the washstand as she tried to control her voice and stop the tears that +sprang to her eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"Let me look at ye; come closer. What dress are ye wearin'?" said the +old aunt in her cracked, weak voice. +</P> + +<P> +"My blue calico." +</P> + +<P> +"Is your cashmere holdin' its color?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, aunt Miranda." +</P> + +<P> +"Do you keep it in a dark closet hung on the wrong side, as I told ye?" +</P> + +<P> +"Always." +</P> + +<P> +"Has your mother made her jelly?" +</P> + +<P> +"She hasn't said." +</P> + +<P> +"She always had the knack o' writin' letters with nothin' in 'em. +What's Mark broke sence I've been sick?" +</P> + +<P> +"Nothing at all, aunt Miranda." +</P> + +<P> +"Why, what's the matter with him? Gittin' lazy, ain't he? How 's John +turnin' out?" +</P> + +<P> +"He's going to be the best of us all." +</P> + +<P> +"I hope you don't slight things in the kitchen because I ain't there. +Do you scald the coffee-pot and turn it upside down on the winder-sill?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, aunt Miranda." +</P> + +<P> +"It's always 'yes' with you, and 'yes' with Jane," groaned Miranda, +trying to move her stiffened body; "but all the time I lay here knowin' +there's things done the way I don't like 'em." +</P> + +<P> +There was a long pause, during which Rebecca sat down by the bedside +and timidly touched her aunt's hand, her heart swelling with tender +pity at the gaunt face and closed eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"I was dreadful ashamed to have you graduate in cheesecloth, Rebecca, +but I couldn't help it no-how. You'll hear the reason some time, and +know I tried to make it up to ye. I'm afraid you was a laughin'-stock!" +</P> + +<P> +"No," Rebecca answered. "Ever so many people said our dresses were the +very prettiest; they looked like soft lace. You're not to be anxious +about anything. Here I am all grown up and graduated,—number three in +a class of twenty-two, aunt Miranda,—and good positions offered me +already. Look at me, big and strong and young, all ready to go into the +world and show what you and aunt Jane have done for me. If you want me +near, I'll take the Edgewood school, so that I can be here nights and +Sundays to help; and if you get better, then I'll go to Augusta,—for +that's a hundred dollars more, with music lessons and other things +beside." +</P> + +<P> +"You listen to me," said Miranda quaveringly. "Take the best place, +regardless o' my sickness. I'd like to live long enough to know you'd +paid off that mortgage, but I guess I shan't." +</P> + +<P> +Here she ceased abruptly, having talked more than she had for weeks; +and Rebecca stole out of the room, to cry by herself and wonder if old +age must be so grim, so hard, so unchastened and unsweetened, as it +slipped into the valley of the shadow. +</P> + +<P> +The days went on, and Miranda grew stronger and stronger; her will +seemed unassailable, and before long she could be moved into a chair by +the window, her dominant thought being to arrive at such a condition of +improvement that the doctor need not call more than once a week, +instead of daily; thereby diminishing the bill, that was mounting to +such a terrifying sum that it haunted her thoughts by day and dreams by +night. +</P> + +<P> +Little by little hope stole back into Rebecca's young heart. Aunt Jane +began to "clear starch" her handkerchiefs and collars and purple muslin +dress, so that she might be ready to go to Brunswick at any moment when +the doctor pronounced Miranda well on the road to recovery. Everything +beautiful was to happen in Brunswick if she could be there by +August,—everything that heart could wish or imagination conceive, for +she was to be Miss Emily's very own visitor, and sit at table with +college professors and other great men. +</P> + +<P> +At length the day dawned when the few clean, simple dresses were packed +in the hair trunk, together with her beloved coral necklace, her +cheesecloth graduating dress, her class pin, aunt Jane's lace cape, and +the one new hat, which she tried on every night before going to bed. It +was of white chip with a wreath of cheap white roses and green leaves, +and cost between two and three dollars, an unprecedented sum in +Rebecca's experience. The effect of its glories when worn with her +nightdress was dazzling enough, but if ever it appeared in conjunction +with the cheesecloth gown, Rebecca felt that even reverend professors +might regard it with respect. It is probable indeed that any +professorial gaze lucky enough to meet a pair of dark eyes shining +under that white rose garland would never have stopped at respect! +</P> + +<P> +Then, when all was ready and Abijah Flagg at the door, came a telegram +from Hannah: "Come at once. Mother has had bad accident." +</P> + +<P> +In less than an hour Rebecca was started on her way to Sunnybrook, her +heart palpitating with fear as to what might be awaiting her at her +journey's end. +</P> + +<P> +Death, at all events, was not there to meet her; but something that +looked at first only too much like it. Her mother had been standing on +the haymow superintending some changes in the barn, had been seized +with giddiness, they thought, and slipped. The right knee was fractured +and the back strained and hurt, but she was conscious and in no +immediate danger, so Rebecca wrote, when she had a moment to send aunt +Jane the particulars. +</P> + +<P> +"I don' know how 'tis," grumbled Miranda, who was not able to sit up +that day; "but from a child I could never lay abed without Aurelia's +gettin' sick too. I don' know 's she could help fallin', though it +ain't anyplace for a woman,—a haymow; but if it hadn't been that, 't +would 'a' been somethin' else. Aurelia was born unfortunate. Now she'll +probably be a cripple, and Rebecca'll have to nurse her instead of +earning a good income somewheres else." +</P> + +<P> +"Her first duty 's to her mother," said aunt Jane; "I hope she'll +always remember that." +</P> + +<P> +"Nobody remembers anything they'd ought to,—at seventeen," responded +Miranda. "Now that I'm strong again, there's things I want to consider +with you, Jane, things that are on my mind night and day. We've talked +'em over before; now we'll settle 'em. When I'm laid away, do you want +to take Aurelia and the children down here to the brick house? There's +an awful passel of 'em,—Aurelia, Jenny, and Fanny; but I won't have +Mark. Hannah can take him; I won't have a great boy stompin' out the +carpets and ruinin' the furniture, though I know when I'm dead I can't +hinder ye, if you make up your mind to do anything." +</P> + +<P> +"I shouldn't like to go against your feelings, especially in laying out +your money, Miranda," said Jane. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't tell Rebecca I've willed her the brick house. She won't git it +till I'm gone, and I want to take my time 'bout dyin' and not be +hurried off by them that's goin' to profit by it; nor I don't want to +be thanked, neither. I s'pose she'll use the front stairs as common as +the back and like as not have water brought into the kitchen, but mebbe +when I've been dead a few years I shan't mind. She sets such store by +you, she'll want you to have your home here as long's you live, but +anyway I've wrote it down that way; though Lawyer Burns's wills don't +hold more'n half the time. He's cheaper, but I guess it comes out jest +the same in the end. I wan't goin' to have the fust man Rebecca picks +up for a husband turnin' you ou'doors." +</P> + +<P> +There was a long pause, during which Jane knit silently, wiping the +tears from her eyes from time to time, as she looked at the pitiful +figure lying weakly on the pillows. Suddenly Miranda said slowly and +feebly:— +</P> + +<P> +"I don' know after all but you might as well take Mark; I s'pose +there's tame boys as well as wild ones. There ain't a mite o' sense in +havin' so many children, but it's a turrible risk splittin' up families +and farmin' 'em out here 'n' there; they'd never come to no good, an' +everybody would keep rememberin' their mother was a Sawyer. Now if +you'll draw down the curtin, I'll try to sleep." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap29"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +XXIX +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +MOTHER AND DAUGHTER +</H3> + +<P> +Two months had gone by,—two months of steady, fagging work; of +cooking, washing, ironing; of mending and caring for the three +children, although Jenny was fast becoming a notable little housewife, +quick, ready, and capable. They were months in which there had been +many a weary night of watching by Aurelia's bedside; of soothing and +bandaging and rubbing; of reading and nursing, even of feeding and +bathing. The ceaseless care was growing less now, and the family +breathed more freely, for the mother's sigh of pain no longer came from +the stifling bedroom, where, during a hot and humid August, Aurelia had +lain, suffering with every breath she drew. There would be no question +of walking for many a month to come, but blessings seemed to multiply +when the blinds could be opened and the bed drawn near the window; when +mother, with pillows behind her, could at least sit and watch the work +going on, could smile at the past agony and forget the weary hours that +had led to her present comparative ease and comfort. +</P> + +<P> +No girl of seventeen can pass through such an ordeal and come out +unchanged; no girl of Rebecca's temperament could go through it without +some inward repining and rebellion. She was doing tasks in which she +could not be fully happy,—heavy and trying tasks, which perhaps she +could never do with complete success or satisfaction; and like promise +of nectar to thirsty lips was the vision of joys she had had to put +aside for the performance of dull daily duty. How brief, how fleeting, +had been those splendid visions when the universe seemed open for her +young strength to battle and triumph in! How soon they had faded into +the light of common day! At first, sympathy and grief were so keen she +thought of nothing but her mother's pain. No consciousness of self +interposed between her and her filial service; then, as the weeks +passed, little blighted hopes began to stir and ache in her breast; +defeated ambitions raised their heads as if to sting her; unattainable +delights teased her by their very nearness; by the narrow line of +separation that lay between her and their realization. It is easy, for +the moment, to tread the narrow way, looking neither to the right nor +left, upborne by the sense of right doing; but that first joy of +self-denial, the joy that is like fire in the blood, dies away; the +path seems drearier and the footsteps falter. Such a time came to +Rebecca, and her bright spirit flagged when the letter was received +saying that her position in Augusta had been filled. There was a +mutinous leap of the heart then, a beating of wings against the door of +the cage, a longing for the freedom of the big world outside. It was +the stirring of the powers within her, though she called it by no such +grand name. She felt as if the wind of destiny were blowing her flame +hither and thither, burning, consuming her, but kindling nothing. All +this meant one stormy night in her little room at Sunnybrook, but the +clouds blew over, the sun shone again, a rainbow stretched across the +sky, while "hope clad in April green" smiled into her upturned face and +beckoned her on, saying:— +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + "Grow old along with me,<BR> + The best is yet to be."<BR> +</P> + +<P> +Threads of joy ran in and out of the gray tangled web of daily living. +There was the attempt at odd moments to make the bare little house less +bare by bringing in out-of-doors, taking a leaf from Nature's book and +noting how she conceals ugliness wherever she finds it. Then there was +the satisfaction of being mistress of the poor domain; of planning, +governing, deciding; of bringing order out of chaos; of implanting +gayety in the place of inert resignation to the inevitable. Another +element of comfort was the children's love, for they turned to her as +flowers to the sun, drawing confidently on her fund of stories, serene +in the conviction that there was no limit to Rebecca's power of +make-believe. In this, and in yet greater things, little as she +realized it, the law of compensation was working in her behalf, for in +those anxious days mother and daughter found and knew each other as +never before. A new sense was born in Rebecca as she hung over her +mother's bed of pain and unrest,—a sense that comes only of +ministering, a sense that grows only when the strong bend toward the +weak. As for Aurelia, words could never have expressed her dumb +happiness when the real revelation of motherhood was vouchsafed her. In +all the earlier years when her babies were young, carking cares and +anxieties darkened the fireside with their brooding wings. Then Rebecca +had gone away, and in the long months of absence her mind and soul had +grown out of her mother's knowledge, so that now, when Aurelia had time +and strength to study her child, she was like some enchanting +changeling. Aurelia and Hannah had gone on in the dull round and the +common task, growing duller and duller; but now, on a certain stage of +life's journey, who should appear but this bewildering being, who gave +wings to thoughts that had only crept before; who brought color and +grace and harmony into the dun brown texture of existence. +</P> + +<P> +You might harness Rebecca to the heaviest plough, and while she had +youth on her side, she would always remember the green earth under her +feet and the blue sky over her head. Her physical eye saw the cake she +was stirring and the loaf she was kneading; her physical ear heard the +kitchen fire crackling and the teakettle singing, but ever and anon her +fancy mounted on pinions, rested itself, renewed its strength in the +upper air. The bare little farmhouse was a fixed fact, but she had many +a palace into which she now and then withdrew; palaces peopled with +stirring and gallant figures belonging to the world of romance; palaces +not without their heavenly apparitions too, breathing celestial +counsel. Every time she retired to her citadel of dreams she came forth +radiant and refreshed, as one who has seen the evening star, or heard +sweet music, or smelled the rose of joy. +</P> + +<P> +Aurelia could have understood the feeling of a narrow-minded and +conventional hen who has brought a strange, intrepid duckling into the +world; but her situation was still more wonderful, for she could only +compare her sensations to those of some quiet brown Dorking who has +brooded an ordinary egg and hatched a bird of paradise. Such an idea +had crossed her mind more than once during the past fortnight, and it +flashed to and fro this mellow October morning when Rebecca came into +the room with her arms full of goldenrod and flaming autumn leaves. +</P> + +<P> +"Just a hint of the fall styles, mother," she said, slipping the stem +of a gorgeous red and yellow sapling between the mattress and the foot +of the bed. "This was leaning over the pool, and I was afraid it would +be vain if I left it there too long looking at its beautiful +reflection, so I took it away from danger; isn't it wonderful? How I +wish I could carry one to poor aunt Miranda to-day! There's never a +flower in the brick house when I'm away." +</P> + +<P> +It was a marvelous morning. The sun had climbed into a world that held +in remembrance only a succession of golden days and starlit nights. The +air was fragrant with ripening fruit, and there was a mad little bird +on a tree outside the door nearly bursting his throat with joy of +living. He had forgotten that summer was over, that winter must ever +come; and who could think of cold winds, bare boughs, or frozen streams +on such a day? A painted moth came in at the open window and settled on +the tuft of brilliant leaves. Aurelia heard the bird and looked from +the beauty of the glowing bush to her tall, splendid daughter, standing +like young Spring with golden Autumn in her arms. +</P> + +<P> +Then suddenly she covered her eyes and cried, "I can't bear it! Here I +lie chained to this bed, interfering with everything you want to do. +It's all wasted! All my saving and doing without; all your hard study; +all Mirandy's outlay; everything that we thought was going to be the +making of you!" +</P> + +<P> +"Mother, mother, don't talk so, don't think so!" exclaimed Rebecca, +sitting down impetuously on the floor by the bed and dropping the +goldenrod by her side. "Why, mother, I'm only a little past seventeen! +This person in a purple calico apron with flour on her nose is only the +beginnings of me! Do you remember the young tree that John +transplanted? We had a dry summer and a cold winter and it didn't grow +a bit, nor show anything of all we did for it; then there was a good +year and it made up for lost time. This is just my little 'rooting +season,' mother, but don't go and believe my day is over, because it +hasn't begun! The old maple by the well that's in its hundredth year +had new leaves this summer, so there must be hope for me at seventeen!" +</P> + +<P> +"You can put a brave face on it," sobbed Aurelia, "but you can't +deceive me. You've lost your place; you'll never see your friends here, +and you're nothing but a drudge!" +</P> + +<P> +"I look like a drudge," said Rebecca mysteriously, with laughing eyes, +"but I really am a princess; you mustn't tell, but this is only a +disguise; I wear it for reasons of state. The king and queen who are at +present occupying my throne are very old and tottering, and are going +to abdicate shortly in my favor. It's rather a small kingdom, I +suppose, as kingdoms go, so there isn't much struggle for it in royal +circles, and you mustn't expect to see a golden throne set with jewels. +It will probably be only of ivory with a nice screen of peacock +feathers for a background; but you shall have a comfortable chair very +near it, with quantities of slaves to do what they call in novels your +'lightest bidding.'" +</P> + +<P> +Aurelia smiled in spite of herself, and though not perhaps wholly +deceived, she was comforted. +</P> + +<P> +"I only hope you won't have to wait too long for your thrones and your +kingdoms, Rebecca," she said, "and that I shall have a sight of them +before I die; but life looks very hard and rough to me, what with your +aunt Miranda a cripple at the brick house, me another here at the farm, +you tied hand and foot, first with one and then with the other, to say +nothing of Jenny and Fanny and Mark! You've got something of your +father's happy disposition, or it would weigh on you as it does on me." +</P> + +<P> +"Why, mother!" cried Rebecca, clasping her knees with her hands; "why, +mother, it's enough joy just to be here in the world on a day like +this; to have the chance of seeing, feeling, doing, becoming! When you +were seventeen, mother, wasn't it good just to be alive? You haven't +forgotten?" +</P> + +<P> +"No," said Aurelia, "but I wasn't so much alive as you are, never in +the world." +</P> + +<P> +"I often think," Rebecca continued, walking to the window and looking +out at the trees,—"I often think how dreadful it would be if I were +not here at all. If Hannah had come, and then, instead of me, John; +John and Jenny and Fanny and the others, but no Rebecca; never any +Rebecca! To be alive makes up for everything; there ought to be fears +in my heart, but there aren't; something stronger sweeps them out, +something like a wind. Oh, see! There is Will driving up the lane, +mother, and he ought to have a letter from the brick house." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap30"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +XXX +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +GOOD-BY, SUNNYBROOK +</H3> + +<P> +Will Melville drove up to the window and, tossing a letter into +Rebecca's lap, went off to the barn on an errand. +</P> + +<P> +"Sister 's no worse, then," sighed Aurelia gratefully, "or Jane would +have telegraphed. See what she says." +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca opened the envelope and read in one flash of an eye the whole +brief page:— +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> + Your aunt Miranda passed away an hour ago. Come at once, if + your mother is out of danger. I shall not have the funeral + till you are here. She died very suddenly and without any + pain. Oh, Rebecca! I long for you so! +<BR><BR> + Aunt Jane. +</P> + +<P> +The force of habit was too strong, and even in the hour of death Jane +had remembered that a telegram was twenty-five cents, and that Aurelia +would have to pay half a dollar for its delivery. +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca burst into a passion of tears as she cried, "Poor, poor aunt +Miranda! She is gone without taking a bit of comfort in life, and I +couldn't say good-by to her! Poor lonely aunt Jane! What can I do, +mother? I feel torn in two, between you and the brick house." +</P> + +<P> +"You must go this very instant," said Aurelia; starting from her +pillows. "If I was to die while you were away, I would say the very +same thing. Your aunts have done everything in the world for you,—more +than I've ever been able to do,—and it is your turn to pay back some +o' their kindness and show your gratitude. The doctor says I've turned +the corner and I feel I have. Jenny can make out somehow, if Hannah'll +come over once a day." +</P> + +<P> +"But, mother, I CAN'T go! Who'll turn you in bed?" exclaimed Rebecca, +walking the floor and wringing her hands distractedly. +</P> + +<P> +"It don't make any difference if I don't get turned," replied Aurelia +stoically. "If a woman of my age and the mother of a family hasn't got +sense enough not to slip off haymows, she'd ought to suffer. Go put on +your black dress and pack your bag. I'd give a good deal if I was able +to go to my sister's funeral and prove that I've forgotten and forgiven +all she said when I was married. Her acts were softer 'n her words, +Mirandy's were, and she's made up to you for all she ever sinned +against me 'n' your father! And oh, Rebecca," she continued with +quivering voice, "I remember so well when we were little girls together +and she took such pride in curling my hair; and another time, when we +were grown up, she lent me her best blue muslin: it was when your +father had asked me to lead the grand march with him at the Christmas +dance, and I found out afterwards she thought he'd intended to ask her!" +</P> + +<P> +Here Aurelia broke down and wept bitterly; for the recollection of the +past had softened her heart and brought the comforting tears even more +effectually than the news of her sister's death. +</P> + +<P> +There was only an hour for preparation. Will would drive Rebecca to +Temperance and send Jenny back from school. He volunteered also to +engage a woman to sleep at the farm in case Mrs. Randall should be +worse at any time in the night. +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca flew down over the hill to get a last pail of spring water, and +as she lifted the bucket from the crystal depths and looked out over +the glowing beauty of the autumn landscape, she saw a company of +surveyors with their instruments making calculations and laying lines +that apparently crossed Sunnybrook at the favorite spot where Mirror +Pool lay clear and placid, the yellow leaves on its surface no yellower +than its sparkling sands. +</P> + +<P> +She caught her breath. "The time has come!" she thought. "I am saying +good-by to Sunnybrook, and the golden gates that almost swung together +that last day in Wareham will close forever now. Good-by, dear brook +and hills and meadows; you are going to see life too, so we must be +hopeful and say to one another:— +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + "'Grow old along with me,<BR> + The best is yet to be.'"<BR> +</P> + +<P> +Will Melville had seen the surveyors too, and had heard in the +Temperance post-office that morning the probable sum that Mrs. Randall +would receive from the railway company. He was in good spirits at his +own improved prospects, for his farm was so placed that its value could +be only increased by the new road; he was also relieved in mind that +his wife's family would no longer be in dire poverty directly at his +doorstep, so to speak. John could now be hurried forward and forced +into the position of head of the family several years sooner than had +been anticipated, so Hannah's husband was obliged to exercise great +self-control or he would have whistled while he was driving Rebecca to +the Temperance station. He could not understand her sad face or the +tears that rolled silently down her cheeks from time to time; for +Hannah had always represented her aunt Miranda as an irascible, +parsimonious old woman, who would be no loss to the world whenever she +should elect to disappear from it. +</P> + +<P> +"Cheer up, Becky!" he said, as he left her at the depot. "You'll find +your mother sitting up when you come back, and the next thing you know +the whole family'll be moving to some nice little house wherever your +work is. Things will never be so bad again as they have been this last +year; that's what Hannah and I think;" and he drove away to tell his +wife the news. +</P> + +<P> +Adam Ladd was in the station and came up to Rebecca instantly, as she +entered the door looking very unlike her bright self. +</P> + +<P> +"The Princess is sad this morning," he said, taking her hand. "Aladdin +must rub the magic lamp; then the slave will appear, and these tears be +dried in a trice." +</P> + +<P> +He spoke lightly, for he thought her trouble was something connected +with affairs at Sunnybrook, and that he could soon bring the smiles by +telling her that the farm was sold and that her mother was to receive a +handsome price in return. He meant to remind her, too, that though she +must leave the home of her youth, it was too remote a place to be a +proper dwelling either for herself or for her lonely mother and the +three younger children. He could hear her say as plainly as if it were +yesterday, "I don't think one ever forgets the spot where one lived as +a child." He could see the quaint little figure sitting on the piazza +at North Riverboro and watch it disappear in the lilac bushes when he +gave the memorable order for three hundred cakes of Rose-Red and +Snow-White soap. +</P> + +<P> +A word or two soon told him that her grief was of another sort, and her +mood was so absent, so sensitive and tearful, that he could only assure +her of his sympathy and beg that he might come soon to the brick house +to see with his own eyes how she was faring. +</P> + +<P> +Adam thought, when he had put her on the train and taken his leave, +that Rebecca was, in her sad dignity and gravity, more beautiful than +he had ever seen her,—all-beautiful and all-womanly. But in that +moment's speech with her he had looked into her eyes and they were +still those of a child; there was no knowledge of the world in their +shining depths, no experience of men or women, no passion, nor +comprehension of it. He turned from the little country station to walk +in the woods by the wayside until his own train should be leaving, and +from time to time he threw himself under a tree to think and dream and +look at the glory of the foliage. He had brought a new copy of The +Arabian Nights for Rebecca, wishing to replace the well-worn old one +that had been the delight of her girlhood; but meeting her at such an +inauspicious time, he had absently carried it away with him. He turned +the pages idly until he came to the story of Aladdin and the Wonderful +Lamp, and presently, in spite of his thirty-four years, the old tale +held him spellbound as it did in the days when he first read it as a +boy. But there were certain paragraphs that especially caught his eye +and arrested his attention,—paragraphs that he read and reread, +finding in them he knew not what secret delight and significance. These +were the quaintly turned phrases describing the effect on the once poor +Aladdin of his wonderful riches, and those descanting upon the beauty +and charm of the Sultan's daughter, the Princess Badroulboudour:— +</P> + +<P> +<I>Not only those who knew Aladdin when he played in the streets like a +vagabond did not know him again; those who had seen him but a little +while before hardly knew him, so much were his features altered; such +were the effects of the lamp, as to procure by degrees to those who +possessed it, perfections agreeable to the rank the right use of it +advanced them to.</I> +</P> + +<P> +<I>The Princess was the most beautiful brunette in the world; her eyes +were large, lively, and sparkling; her looks sweet and modest; her nose +was of a just proportion and without a fault; her mouth small, her lips +of a vermilion red, and charmingly agreeable symmetry; in a word, all +the features of her face were perfectly regular. It is not therefore +surprising that Aladdin, who had never seen, and was a stranger to, so +many charms, was dazzled. With all these perfections the Princess had +so delicate a shape, so majestic an air, that the sight of her was +sufficient to inspire respect.</I> +</P> + +<P> +"<I>Adorable Princess," said Aladdin to her, accosting her, and saluting +her respectfully, "if I have the misfortune to have displeased you by +my boldness in aspiring to the possession of so lovely a creature, I +must tell you that you ought to blame your bright eyes and charms, not +me.</I>" +</P> + +<P> +<I>"Prince," answered the Princess, "it is enough for me to have seen +you, to tell you that I obey without reluctance."</I> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap31"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +XXXI +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +AUNT MIRANDA'S APOLOGY +</H3> + +<P> +When Rebecca alighted from the train at Maplewood and hurried to the +post-office where the stage was standing, what was her joy to see uncle +Jerry Cobb holding the horses' heads. +</P> + +<P> +"The reg'lar driver 's sick," he explained, "and when they sent for me, +thinks I to myself, my drivin' days is over, but Rebecky won't let the +grass grow under her feet when she gits her aunt Jane's letter, and +like as not I'll ketch her to-day; or, if she gits delayed, to-morrow +for certain. So here I be jest as I was more 'n six year ago. Will you +be a real lady passenger, or will ye sit up in front with me?" +</P> + +<P> +Emotions of various sorts were all struggling together in the old man's +face, and the two or three bystanders were astounded when they saw the +handsome, stately girl fling herself on Mr. Cobb's dusty shoulder +crying like a child. "Oh, uncle Jerry!" she sobbed; "dear uncle Jerry! +It's all so long ago, and so much has happened, and we've grown so old, +and so much is going to happen that I'm fairly frightened." +</P> + +<P> +"There, there, lovey," the old man whispered comfortingly, "we'll be +all alone on the stage, and we'll talk things over 's we go along the +road an' mebbe they won't look so bad." +</P> + +<P> +Every mile of the way was as familiar to Rebecca as to uncle Jerry; +every watering-trough, grindstone, red barn, weather-vane, duck-pond, +and sandy brook. And all the time she was looking backward to the day, +seemingly so long ago, when she sat on the box seat for the first time, +her legs dangling in the air, too short to reach the footboard. She +could smell the big bouquet of lilacs, see the pink-flounced parasol, +feel the stiffness of the starched buff calico and the hated prick of +the black and yellow porcupine quills. The drive was taken almost in +silence, but it was a sweet, comforting silence both to uncle Jerry and +the girl. +</P> + +<P> +Then came the sight of Abijah Flagg shelling beans in the barn, and +then the Perkins attic windows with a white cloth fluttering from them. +She could spell Emma Jane's loving thought and welcome in that little +waving flag; a word and a message sent to her just at the first moment +when Riverboro chimneys rose into view; something to warm her heart +till they could meet. +</P> + +<P> +The brick house came next, looking just as of yore; though it seemed to +Rebecca as if death should have cast some mysterious spell over it. +There were the rolling meadows, the stately elms, all yellow and brown +now; the glowing maples, the garden-beds bright with asters, and the +hollyhocks, rising tall against the parlor windows; only in place of +the cheerful pinks and reds of the nodding stalks, with their gay +rosettes of bloom, was a crape scarf holding the blinds together, and +another on the sitting-room side, and another on the brass knocker of +the brown-painted door. +</P> + +<P> +"Stop, uncle Jerry! Don't turn in at the side; hand me my satchel, +please; drop me in the road and let me run up the path by myself. Then +drive away quickly." +</P> + +<P> +At the noise and rumble of the approaching stage the house door opened +from within, just as Rebecca closed the gate behind her. Aunt Jane came +down the stone steps, a changed woman, frail and broken and white. +Rebecca held out her arms and the old aunt crept into them feebly, as +she did on that day when she opened the grave of her buried love and +showed the dead face, just for an instant, to a child. Warmth and +strength and life flowed into the aged frame from the young one. +</P> + +<P> +"Rebecca," she said, raising her head, "before you go in to look at +her, do you feel any bitterness over anything she ever said to you?" +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca's eyes blazed reproach, almost anger, as she said chokingly: +"Oh, aunt Jane! Could you believe it of me? I am going in with a heart +brimful of gratitude!" +</P> + +<P> +"She was a good woman, Rebecca; she had a quick temper and a sharp +tongue, but she wanted to do right, and she did it as near as she +could. She never said so, but I'm sure she was sorry for every hard +word she spoke to you; she didn't take 'em back in life, but she acted +so 't you'd know her feeling when she was gone." +</P> + +<P> +"I told her before I left that she'd been the making of me, just as +mother says," sobbed Rebecca. +</P> + +<P> +"She wasn't that," said Jane. "God made you in the first place, and +you've done considerable yourself to help Him along; but she gave you +the wherewithal to work with, and that ain't to be despised; specially +when anybody gives up her own luxuries and pleasures to do it. Now let +me tell you something, Rebecca. Your aunt Mirandy 's willed all this to +you,—the brick house and buildings and furniture, and the land all +round the house, as far 's you can see." +</P> + +<P> +Rebecca threw off her hat and put her hand to her heart, as she always +did in moments of intense excitement. After a moment's silence she +said: "Let me go in alone; I want to talk to her; I want to thank her; +I feel as if I could make her hear and feel and understand!" +</P> + +<P> +Jane went back into the kitchen to the inexorable tasks that death has +no power, even for a day, to blot from existence. He can stalk through +dwelling after dwelling, leaving despair and desolation behind him, but +the table must be laid, the dishes washed, the beds made, by somebody. +</P> + +<P> +Ten minutes later Rebecca came out from the Great Presence looking +white and spent, but chastened and glorified. She sat in the quiet +doorway, shaded from the little Riverboro world by the overhanging +elms. A wide sense of thankfulness and peace possessed her, as she +looked at the autumn landscape, listened to the rumble of a wagon on +the bridge, and heard the call of the river as it dashed to the sea. +She put up her hand softly and touched first the shining brass knocker +and then the red bricks, glowing in the October sun. +</P> + +<P> +It was home; her roof, her garden, her green acres, her dear trees; it +was shelter for the little family at Sunnybrook; her mother would have +once more the companionship of her sister and the friends of her +girlhood; the children would have teachers and playmates. +</P> + +<P> +And she? Her own future was close-folded still; folded and hidden in +beautiful mists; but she leaned her head against the sun-warmed door, +and closing her eyes, whispered, just as if she had been a child saying +her prayers: "God bless aunt Miranda; God bless the brick house that +was; God bless the brick house that is to be!" +</P> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 498 ***</div> +</body> + +</html> + |