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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/34430-h.zip b/34430-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..d2d0b9a --- /dev/null +++ b/34430-h.zip diff --git a/34430-h/34430-h.htm b/34430-h/34430-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e69f81d --- /dev/null +++ b/34430-h/34430-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,14362 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Transitional//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-transitional.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Nelly's Silver Mine, by Helen Hunt Jackson. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; +} + +p { + margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; +} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; +} + +table { + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; +} + +.pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; +} /* page numbers */ + +.linenum { + position: absolute; + top: auto; + left: 4%; +} /* poetry number */ + +.blockquot { + margin-left: 5%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + +.bb {border-bottom: solid 2px;} + +.bl {border-left: solid 2px;} + +.bt {border-top: solid 2px;} + +.br {border-right: solid 2px;} + +.bbox {border: solid 2px;} + +.center {text-align: center;} + +.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + +.u {text-decoration: underline;} + +.caption {font-weight: bold;} + +/* Images */ +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; +} + +.figleft { + float: left; + clear: left; + margin-left: 0; + margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-right: 1em; + padding: 0; + text-align: center; +} + +.figright { + float: right; + clear: right; + margin-left: 1em; + margin-bottom: + 1em; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-right: 0; + padding: 0; + text-align: center; +} + +/* Poetry */ +.poem { + margin-left:10%; + margin-right:10%; + text-align: left; +} + +.poem br {display: none;} + +.poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + +.poem span.i0 { + display: block; + margin-left: 0em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +.poem span.i2 { + display: block; + margin-left: 2em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +.poem span.i4 { + display: block; + margin-left: 4em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +ins {text-decoration:none; border-bottom: thin dotted gray; +} + +div.notes {background-color: #eeeeee; color: #000; border: 1px solid black; + padding-top: 0em; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-left: 2em; padding-right: 2em; + margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 4em; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 90%;} + + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Nelly's Silver Mine, by Helen Hunt Jackson + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Nelly's Silver Mine + A Story of Colorado Life + +Author: Helen Hunt Jackson + +Illustrator: Harriet Roosevelt Richards + +Release Date: December 1, 2010 [EBook #34430] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NELLY'S SILVER MINE *** + + + + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Dianne Nolan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="notes"> <h3>Transcriber's Notes</h3><p>Original spellings + and punctuation have been retained except as noted. <br />Nelly and Nellie were both used, standardized to Nelly.<br /> +Crestfallen and crest-fallen are both used, doorstep and door-step are both used. They have been retained.<br /> +Typographical errors in original have been marked with mouse-hover pop-up.</p></div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 465px;"> +<img src="images/frontis.jpg" width="465" height="700" alt="Frontispiece" title="Frontispiece" /> +<span class="caption">All that morning Rob fished and Nelly stuck +grasshoppers on the hook for him.<br /> + +FRONTISPIECE. See page 204.<br /><br /></span> +</div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 475px;"> +<img src="images/title_page.jpg" width="475" height="816" alt="Title page" title="Title page" /> +</div> + +<h2><i>The Beacon Hill Bookshelf</i><br /></h2> +<br /> +<h1>Nelly's Silver Mine</h1> +<br /> +<br /> +<h3><i>A Story of Colorado Life</i></h3> +<br /> +<br /> +<h3>By</h3> +<br /> +<h2>Helen Hunt Jackson</h2> +<br /> +<div class='center'>With Illustrations in Color by<br /> +Harriet Roosevelt Richards<br /><br /></div> + +<div class='center'>Boston<br /> +Little, Brown, and Company<br /> +1926<br /></div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class='center'> +<br /> +<br /> +<i>Copyright, 1878,</i><br /> +<span class="smcap">By Roberts Brothers</span><br /> +<br /> +<i>Copyright, 1906, 1920,</i><br /> +<span class="smcap">By William S. Jackson</span>.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Copyright, 1910,</i><br /> +<span class="smcap">By Little, Brown, and Company</span>.<br /> +<hr style="width: 15%;" /> +<i>All rights reserved.</i><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<i>Printed in the United States of America</i><br /></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>CONTENTS</h3> +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Table of Contents"> +<tr><td align="left" colspan="2"><span class="smcap">CHAPTER</span></td><td align="right"><span class="smcap">PAGE</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">I</td><td align="left"> <span class="smcap">Christmas-Day in Nelly's New England Home</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">II</td><td align="left"> <span class="smcap">A Talk about Leaving Mayfield</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_18">18</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">III</td><td align="left"> <span class="smcap">Off for Colorado</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_48">48</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">IV</td><td align="left"> <span class="smcap">A Night in a Sleeping-Car</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_71">71</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">V</td><td align="left"> <span class="smcap">First Glimpses of Colorado and a New Home</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_96">96</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">VI</td><td align="left"> <span class="smcap">Life at Garland's</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_125">125</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">VII</td><td align="left"> <span class="smcap">A Hunt for a Silver Mine</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_141">141</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">VIII</td><td align="left"> <span class="smcap">The Marches Leave Garland's</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_156">156</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">IX</td><td align="left"> <span class="smcap">Wet Mountain Valley</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_187">187</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">X</td><td align="left"> <span class="smcap">Rob and Nelly Go into Business</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_208">208</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XI</td><td align="left"> <span class="smcap">How to find a Silver Mine</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_227">227</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XII</td><td align="left"> <span class="smcap">Nelly's Silver Mine</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_250">250</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XIII</td><td align="left"> <span class="smcap">"The Good Luck"</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_270">270</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XIV</td><td align="left"> <span class="smcap">An Old Acquaintance</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_292">292</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XV</td><td align="left"> <span class="smcap">Changes in Prospect</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_311">311</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XVI</td><td align="left"> <span class="smcap">"Goot-By and Goot Luck"</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_323">323</a></td></tr> +</table></div> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="ILLUSTRATIONS" id="ILLUSTRATIONS"></a>ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> + + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="ILLUSTRATIONS"> +<tr><td align="left">All that morning Rob fished and Nelly stuck grasshoppers on</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">the hook for him</td><td align="left"><i>Frontispiece</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"></td><td align="right">FACING PAGE</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Nelly sat on one side, with all the dolls ranged in a row</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">against the wall</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_20">20</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">He would ring out such a "jodel" that the people would stop</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">and look up amazed</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_132">132</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">There she saw the very place she recollected so well</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_256">256</a></td></tr> +</table></div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> + + +<h1>NELLY'S SILVER MINE</h1> + + + +<h2>CHAPTER I</h2> + +<h4>CHRISTMAS-DAY IN NELLY'S NEW-ENGLAND HOME</h4> + + +<p>It was Christmas morning; and Nelly March and her +brother Rob were lying wide awake in their beds, wondering +if it would do for them to get up and look in their +stockings to see what Santa Claus had brought them. Nelly +and Rob were twins; but you would never have thought so, +when you looked at them, for Nelly was half a head taller +than Rob, and a good deal heavier. She had always been +well; but Rob had always been a delicate child. He was ill +now with a bad sore throat, and had been shut up in the +house for ten days. This was the reason that he and Nelly +were in bed at six o'clock this Christmas morning, instead +of scampering all about the house, and waking everybody +up with their shouts of delight over their presents. When +they went to bed the night before, Mrs. March had said: +"Now, Rob, you must promise me not to get out of bed +till it is broad daylight, and the house is thoroughly warm. +You will certainly take cold, if you get up in the cold room."</p> + +<p>"Mamma," said Nelly, "I needn't stay in bed just +because Rob has to, need I? I can take his presents out +of the stocking, and carry them to him."</p> + +<p>"You shan't, either," said Rob, fretfully. "I want to +take them out myself; and you're real mean not to wait for +me, Nell. 'Tisn't half so much fun for just one. Shan't +she stay in bed too, mamma, as long as I have to?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span></p> + +<p>Mrs. March looked at Nelly, and smiled. She knew Nelly +had not thought Rob would care any thing about her getting +up first, or she would never have proposed it. Nelly +was always ready to give up to Rob, much more so than +was for his good.</p> + +<p>"Nelly can do as she pleases, Rob," she answered. "I +don't think it would be fair for me to compel her to stay in +bed because you have a sore throat: do you?"</p> + +<p>But Rob did not answer. He was not a very generous +boy, and all he was thinking of now was his own pleasure.</p> + +<p>"Say, Nell," he cried, "you won't get up, will you, till +I can? Don't: I'll think you're real unkind if you do."</p> + +<p>"No, no, Rob," said Nelly. "Indeed I won't. I don't +care. It will be all the longer to think about it, and that's +almost the best part of it." And Nelly threw her arms +around Rob's neck and kissed him.</p> + +<p>"It's too bad, you darling," she said, "you have to be +sick on Christmas-day. I won't have any pudding, either, +if you don't want me to."</p> + +<p>Mrs. March was an Englishwoman, and had lived in +England till she was married, and she always had on +Christmas-day a real English plum-pudding with brandy +turned over it, and set on fire just before the pudding was +brought to the table, so that when it came in the blue and +red and yellow flames were all blazing up high over it, and +the waitress had to turn her head away not to breathe the +heat from the flames.</p> + +<p>You would have thought it would have made Rob +ashamed to have Nelly propose to go without pudding +because he could not eat any, but I don't think it did. All +he said was,—</p> + +<p>"Don't be a goose, Nell. That's quite different."</p> + +<p>Just before they went to sleep, Sarah, the cook, went +past their door, and Nelly called to her:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span>—</p> + +<p>"Sarah, mamma says we mustn't get up to-morrow +morning till the house is very warm. Couldn't you get up +very early and start the furnace fire?"</p> + +<p>"Why, yes, Miss Nelly, I can do that easy enough, sure; +but where'll you be sleeping?"</p> + +<p>"Just where we always do, Sarah," replied Nelly, much +surprised at this question.</p> + +<p>"Well, miss, I'll be up long before light and get the house +as warm as toast by the time you can see to tell the toes +from the heels of your stockings," said Sarah. "Good-night, +Miss Nelly. Good-night, Master Rob."</p> + +<p>"What could she have meant asking where we'd be +sleeping?" said Rob.</p> + +<p>"I'm sure I don't know," said Nelly; "it's very queer. +We've never slept anywhere but in these two beds since we +were babies. I don't know what's got into her head. It's +the queerest thing I ever knew. I guess she was sleepy," +and in a few moments both the children were fast asleep.</p> + +<p>Rob was the first to wake up. It was not much past +midnight.</p> + +<p>"Nelly," he whispered. No answer.</p> + +<p>Twice he called: still no answer. There was not a sound +to be heard except the loud ticking of the high clock at the +head of the stairs. Presently there came a rustle and quick +low steps, and his mother stood by his bed.</p> + +<p>"What do you want, my dear little boy?" she said. "Is +your throat worse?"</p> + +<p>"No; isn't it time to get up?" said Rob. "Hasn't Sarah +made the fire?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, mercy!" exclaimed Mrs. March. "Is that all? +Why Rob! it isn't anywhere near morning. You must go +to sleep again, child; it is a terribly cold night," and she +tucked the bed-clothes tight around him, and ran back to +her own room.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I don't care," said Rob. "I'll just stay awake. I don't +believe it'll be very long;" but before he knew it he was fast +asleep again. The next time he waked, it had begun to be +light, or rather a little less dark. He could see the outline +of the window at the foot of his bed, and he could see +Nelly's bedstead, which was on the opposite side of the +room.</p> + +<p>"Nelly," he called again.</p> + +<p>"I'm awake," said Nelly.</p> + +<p>"Why didn't you speak?" said Rob.</p> + +<p>"I was thinking," replied Nelly. "Sarah hasn't gone +down yet."</p> + +<p>"Pshaw," said Rob, "she must have. She said she'd +go long before light. She went before you were awake."</p> + +<p>"It's awful cold," whispered Nelly; "I can't keep even +my hands out of bed. I'm going to jump up and see if any +hot air comes in at the register." So saying, she jumped +out of bed, ran to the register, and held her hands above it.</p> + +<p>"Cold as Greenland, Rob," she said, "Sarah can't have +made the fire. I don't believe she is up."</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear," said Rob, "every thing all goes wrong when +I'm sick. I think it's too mean I have to be the sick one +just because we're twins. I heard a lady say once to +mamma,—she didn't think I heard but I did,—'Weren't +you very sorry, Mrs. March, to have twins? You know +they can't ever both be strong. Your Rob, now, he looks +very sickly.' Civil, that was, to mamma, wasn't it? I was +so mad I could have flung my ball at her old wise head. +But I think it must be true, because mamma answered her +real gentle, but with her voice all trembly, and she said, +'Yes, I know that is usually said to be so; but we hope to +prove to the contrary. Rob grows stronger every year, and +he and his sister take so much comfort together, I can never +regret that they were born twins.' But I do: I think it's a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span> +shame to make a fellow sick all his life that way. I say, +Nell, I don't believe you'd mind it half so much as I do. +Girls are different from boys. I think it would have been +better for you to be the sick one than me. Don't you? +Say, Nell!"</p> + +<p>This was a hard question for poor Nelly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Rob!" she said, "I don't want to be selfish about +it. I'd be willing to take turns and be sick half the times; +or some more than half,—I guess three-quarters: but I +think you ought to have a little."</p> + +<p>"But don't you see, Nell, it can't be that way," interrupted +Rob; "it can't be that way with twins. It's got to +be one sick one and one strong one. That's what that lady +said, and mamma said she'd heard so too; and I think it's +just as mean as any thing. They might have let us be +born as much as three days apart, or a week: that wouldn't +have made any difference in the fun; we could have played +just as well, and, besides, we'd have had two birthdays to +keep then, don't you see?"</p> + +<p>"I don't think that would be so nice, Rob," said Nelly, +"as to have one together. That would be like my getting +up now, before you do, and having my stocking all to myself, +and you didn't want me to do that."</p> + +<p>"Pshaw, Nell," replied Rob, impatiently as before: +"that's quite different; but girls never see things."</p> + +<p>Nelly laughed out loud. "I don't know why: we have +as many eyes as boys have. I see lots more things in the +woods than you do, always."</p> + +<p>"Oh, not that sort of things," answered Rob; "not that +kind of seeing; not with your eyes: I mean to see with your—well, +I don't know what it is you see with, the kind I +mean; but don't you know mamma often says to papa about +something that's got to be done, 'don't you see? don't you +see?' and she doesn't mean that he is to look with his eyes:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span> +that's the kind I mean. Now where is that Sarah?" he +exclaimed suddenly, sitting bolt upright in bed in his excitement. +"It's as cold as out-doors here, and there isn't a +creature stirring in the house, and it's broad daylight."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Rob, do lie down and cover yourself up," cried +Nelly. "You're a naughty boy, and you'll have another +sore throat as sure's you're alive. It isn't broad daylight +nor any thing like it. I can't but just see the stockings."</p> + +<p>"Can't but just see them!" said Rob. "Didn't I tell +you girls couldn't see any thing? Why, I can see them just +as plain, just as plain as if I was in 'em! Ain't they big, +Nell? I know what's in yours, for one thing."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Rob! do you? Tell me!" exclaimed Nell.</p> + +<p>"I can't," replied Rob. "I promised mamma I wouldn't. +But it's something you've wanted awfully."</p> + +<p>"A doll, Rob! oh, is it a doll with eyes that can shut? +oh, say, Rob!" pleaded Nelly. "It's long past the time +I ought to have had it, if you hadn't been sick: you might +tell me. I'll tell you what one of your things is if you will."</p> + +<p>"I don't want to know, Nell," replied Rob, "and you +needn't tease me, for I'll never tell you: not if they lie abed +in this house all day. Dear me! where can Sarah be? I'm +going to call mamma."</p> + +<p>"You can't make her hear, Rob," answered Nelly. +"They shut the doors ever so long ago. They were talking +about something they didn't want us to hear."</p> + +<p>"How do you know?" said Rob.</p> + +<p>"Because I heard some of what they said, and I coughed +so that they might know I was awake," replied Nelly. "Oh, +Rob, it is awful!" and Nelly began to sob.</p> + +<p>"What's awful? what is it, Nell? Tell me, can't you?" +said Rob, in an excited tone.</p> + +<p>"No, Rob I'm not going to tell you any thing about<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span> +it," replied Nelly. "It wouldn't be fair, because they didn't +want us to know. It'll be time enough when it comes."</p> + +<p>"When what comes?" shouted Rob, thoroughly roused +now. "I do say, Nell March, you're enough to try a saint. +What did you tell me any thing about it for? I'll tell +mamma the minute she comes in, and tell her you listened. +Oh, shame, shame, shame on a listener!"</p> + +<p>"Rob, you're just as mean as you can be," cried Nelly. +"I didn't listen, and mamma knows very well I wouldn't +do such a thing. Of course I couldn't help hearing when +both doors were open, and I coughed out loud as soon as +I thought about it that most likely they didn't mean we +should know any thing about it. I heard papa say something +about the children, and mamma said, 'we won't tell +them till it is all settled,' and then I gave a great big cough, +and she got up and shut both the doors; so now, Rob, you +see I wasn't a listener. I wouldn't listen for any thing: +mamma said once it was the very meanest kind of a lie in +the whole world! Mamma knows I wouldn't do it, and you +can just tell her what you like, you old hateful boy."</p> + +<p>This was a very unhappy sort of talk for Christmas +morning, was it not? But both Rob and Nelly were tired +and cold, and their patience was all worn out. It really +was a hard trial for two children only twelve years old to +have to lie still in bed, hour after hour, Christmas morning, +waiting for their presents; it grew slowly lighter and lighter; +each moment they could see the big stockings plainer and +plainer; they hung on the outside of the closet door on two +big hooks, where were usually hung the children's school +hats. One stocking was gray, and one was white. I must +tell you about these stockings, for they were very droll. +They were larger than the largest boots you ever saw, and +would reach the whole length of a man's leg, way above +his knee, as far up as they could go. They belonged to the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> +children's grandfather March. He was one of the queerest +old gentlemen that ever was known, I think. He lived +in a city a great many miles away from the village where +Mr. and Mrs. March lived, but he used to spend his winters +with them. About six weeks before he arrived, big boxes +used to begin to come. There was no railroad to this village: +every thing had to come on coaches or big luggage wagons. +Early in November, old Mr. March's boxes always began +to arrive at his son's house. When Rob and Nelly saw +Mr. Earle's big express wagon drive up to the back gate, +they always exclaimed, "Oh, there are grandpa's things +coming!" and they would run out to see them unloaded. +You would have thought that old Mr. March supposed there +was nothing to eat in all the village, to see what quantities +of food he sent up. But the most peculiar thing about it +was that he sent such queer things. He was as queer about +his food as he was about every thing else, and he did not +eat the things other people ate. For instance, he never ate +butter; he ate fresh olive oil on everything; and he had +a notion that no olive oil was brought to this country to +sell which was fit to eat. He had an intimate friend who +was an old sea captain, and used to sail to Smyrna; this sea +captain used to bring over for him large boxes of bottles +of olive oil every spring and autumn; and two or three of +these boxes he would use up in the course of the winter. +He never used more than half of the oil in a bottle: after +it had been opened a few days, he did not like it; he would +smell it very carefully each day, and, by the third or fourth +day, he would shove the bottle from him, and say, "Bah! +throw the stuff away! throw it away! it isn't fit to eat!" +Mrs. March had great trouble in disposing of these half +bottles of oil; everybody in the neighborhood took them, +and very glad people were to get them too, for the oil was +delicious; but there were enough for two or three villages<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> +of the size of Mayfield. These sweet-oil boxes had curious +letters on them in scarlet and blue, and the bottles were +all rolled up in a sort of shining silver paper, which Rob and +Nelly used to keep to cover boxes with. It was very pretty, +so they were always glad when they saw a big pile of the +olive-oil boxes. Then there were also boxes full of bottles +of pepper-sauce; this came in big black bottles, and the +little peppers showed red through the glass; the smallest drop +of this pepper-sauce made your mouth burn like fire, but +this queer old gentleman used to pour it over every thing +he ate. The big bottle of pepper-sauce and the big bottle +of olive oil were always put by his plate, and he poured first +from one and then from the other, until the food on his +plate was nearly swimming in the strange mixture. Salt +fish was another of his favorite dishes, and he brought up +every autumn huge piles of them. They came in flat +packages, tied up with coarse cord; when Mr. Earle threw +them down to the ground from the top of his wagon a +strong and disagreeable odor rose in the air, and Rob and +Nelly used to exclaim, "Groans for the salt fish! groans for +the salt fish! Why didn't you lose it off the wagon, Mr. +Earle?"</p> + +<p>"It wouldn't have made any odds, miss," Mr. Earle used +to reply. "The old gentleman'd have made me go back for +more." Besides the salt fish, there were little kegs full of +what are called "tongues and sounds," put up in salt brine; +these are the tongues and the intestines of fish; there were +also jars of oysters and of clams, and a barrel of the sort +of bread sailors eat at sea, which is called hard-tack. Now, +after hearing about the extraordinary food this old gentleman +used to bring for his own use, you will be prepared +to believe what I have to tell you about his big stockings. +He had just as queer notions about his bed and all his +arrangements for sleeping, as he had about his food. No<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> +woman was ever allowed to make his bed. He always made +it himself. Except in the very hottest weather, he would +not have any sheets on it, only the very finest of flannel +blankets, a great many of them; and he never wore any +night-gown; he believed they were very unwholesome things.</p> + +<p>"Why don't animals put on night-gowns to sleep in?" +he used to say; one might very well have replied to him, +"Animals don't crawl in between blankets either, and if +you are going to be simply an animal, you must go without +any clothes day and night both." However, he was a very +irritable old gentleman, and nobody ever argued with him +about any thing. Mr. and Mrs. March let him do in all +ways exactly as he liked, and never contradicted him, for +he loved them very much, in his way, and was very good +to them.</p> + +<p>Of all his queer ways and queer things, I think these big +stockings were the queerest. As I said, he never wore any +night-gown in bed, but he was over seventy years old, and, +in spite of all his theories, his feet and legs would sometimes +get cold: so he went to a tailor and got an exact +pattern of a tight-fitting leg to a pair of trousers; then he +took this to a woman who knit stockings to sell, and he +unrolled his leg pattern before her, and said:—</p> + +<p>"Do you see that leg, ma'am? Can you knit a stocking +leg that shape and length?"</p> + +<p>The woman did not know what to make of him.</p> + +<p>"Why, sir," said she, "you'd never want a stocking-leg +that long?"</p> + +<p>"I didn't ask you what I wanted, ma'am," growled the +old gentleman, "I asked you what you could do. Can you +knit a stocking-leg that length and shape?"</p> + +<p>"Why, yes, sir, I suppose I can," she replied, much cowed +by his fierce manner.</p> + +<p>"Well, then, knit me six pairs, three gray and three<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> +white. There's the pattern for the foot," and he threw down +an old sock of his on the table, and was striding away.</p> + +<p>The woman followed him.</p> + +<p>"But, sir," she said timidly, "I couldn't knit these for +the price of ordinary stockings. I'm afraid you wouldn't +be willing to pay what they would cost. It would be like +knitting a pair of pantaloons, sir,—indeed it would."</p> + +<p>Old Mr. March always carried a big gold-headed cane; +and, when he was angry, he lifted it from the ground and +shook the gold knob as fast as he could right in people's +faces. He lifted it now, and shook the gold knob so close +in the woman's face, that she retreated rapidly toward the +door.</p> + +<p>"I didn't say any thing about money: did I, ma'am? +Knit those stockings: I don't care what they cost," he +cried.</p> + +<p>"But I thought," she interrupted.</p> + +<p>"I didn't ask you to think, did I?" said Mr. March, +speaking louder and louder. "You'll never earn any money +thinking. Knit those stockings, ma'am, and the sooner the +better," and the old gentleman walked out of the house +muttering.</p> + +<p>"Dear me, what a very hasty old gentleman!" said the +woman to herself. "I'll go over and ask Mrs. March, and +make sure it's all right." So the next day she went to see +Mrs. March, who explained to her all the old gentleman's +whims about sleeping, and that he was quite willing and +able to pay whatever the queer stockings would cost. In +a very few weeks, the stockings were all done; and the old +gentleman was so pleased with them that he gave the woman +an extra five-dollar bill, besides the sum she had charged for +knitting them. And this was the way that there came to be +hanging up in Nelly's and Rob's chamber two such huge +stockings on this Christmas morning of which I am telling<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> +you. They were splendid stockings for Christmas stockings! +It did really seem as if you never would get to the +bottom of them. The children used to lay them down on +the floor, and run around them, and pull out thing after +thing. Mrs. March sometimes wished they were not quite +so large: it took a great deal to fill them: but, after having +once used them, she had not the heart to go back to the +ordinary-sized stocking, for it would have been such a disappointment +to the children. She used them, first, one +Christmas when Nelly's chief present was a big doll about +two feet and a half tall, which wore real baby clothes like a +live baby. This was so big it could not go into a common +stocking, and Mrs. March happened then to think of her +father's. The old gentleman was delighted to have them +used for the purpose, and stood by laughing hard, while +Mrs. March put the things in.</p> + +<p>"Ha! ha!" he said, "the old stockings are good for more +than one thing: aren't they?"</p> + +<p>But we are leaving Nelly and Rob a long time in bed +waiting for their Christmas presents. It grew lighter and +lighter, and still there was no sound in the house, and the +room grew no warmer. Rob was so thoroughly cross that +he lay back on his pillow, with his eyes shut and his lips +pouting out, and would not speak a word. In vain Nelly +tried to comfort him, or to interest him. He would not +speak. Even Nelly's patience was nearly worn out. At last +the door of their mother's room opened, and she came out +in her warm red wrapper.</p> + +<p>"Why, you dear patient little children!" she exclaimed; +"are you in bed yet? this is too bad. What does make your +room so cold! Why, bless me!" she exclaimed, going to the +register, "no heat is coming up here; what does this mean?"</p> + +<p>"I don't think Sarah has gone down yet: I've been +awake a long time, mamma," said Nelly.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span></p> + +<p>"A thousand years, it is," exclaimed Rob, "or more, that +we've been lying awake here waiting: Sarah's the meanest +girl alive."</p> + +<p>"Hush, hush, Rob!" said Mrs. March. "Don't speak +so. Perhaps she is ill. I will go and see. But you may +have your presents on the bed;" and, going to the closet, +she took down first the gray stocking, which was for Rob, +and carried it and laid it on his bed. Then she carried +the white one, and laid it on Nelly's bed.</p> + +<p>"Oh, goody, goody!" they both cried at once. "You're +real good, mamma;" and in one second more all four of +the little arms were plunging into the depths of the big +stockings.</p> + +<p>"You've earned your presents this time," said Mrs. +March, as she pinned warm blankets round the children's +shoulders. "I think you are really very brave little children +to be quiet so many hours. It is after eight o'clock. +I am afraid Sarah is ill."</p> + +<p>Then she went upstairs and the children heard her knocking +at Sarah's door, and calling, "Sarah! Sarah!" Presently +she came down very quickly, and went into her room; +in a few minutes, she went back again, and Mr. March +went with her. Then the children heard more knocking, +and their papa calling very loud, "Sarah! Sarah! open the +door this moment." Then came a loud crash.</p> + +<p>"Papa's smashed the door in," said Rob. "Good enough +for her, lazy old thing, to sleep so Christmas morning! I +hope mamma won't give her any present." Nelly did not +speak. She had scarcely heard the knocking or the calls: +she was so absorbed in looking at her new doll,—a wax +doll with eyes that could open and shut. To have such a +doll as this had been the great desire of Nelly's heart for +years. There was also a beautiful little leather trunk full +of clothes for the doll, and four little band-boxes, each with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> +a hat or bonnet in it. There was a bedstead for her to +sleep in, and a pretty red arm-chair for her to sit in, and a +play piano, which could make a little real music. Then +there were four beautiful new books, and ever so many +pretty little paper boxes with different sorts of candy in +them: all white candy; Mrs. March never gave her children +any colored candies.</p> + +<p>Rob had a beautiful kaleidoscope, mounted with a handle +to turn it round by; it was about as long as Nelly's doll, and +as he drew it out he couldn't imagine what it was. Then +he had a geographical globe, and a paint-box, and four new +volumes of Mayne Reid's stories, and the same number +of boxes of candy which Nelly had.</p> + +<p>You never saw two happier children than Rob and Nelly +were for the next half-hour. They forgot all about the +cold, about Sarah, and about having had to wait so long. +For half an hour, all that was to be heard in the room were +exclamations from one to the other, such as:—</p> + +<p>"Oh, Nell! see this picture!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Rob! look at this lovely bonnet!"</p> + +<p>"Nell, this is the splendidest one of all."</p> + +<p>"This doll is bigger than Mary Pratt's: I know it is. +Oh, Rob! don't you suppose it must have cost a lot of +money?"</p> + +<p>At last Mrs. March came back into their room, looking +very much annoyed.</p> + +<p>"Well, children," she said, "we're going to have a droll +sort of Christmas. Sarah is so fast asleep we can't wake +her up, and your papa thinks she must be drunk. We shall +have to cook our Christmas dinner ourselves. How will you +like that?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, splendid, mamma, splendid! Let us get right up +now," cried both the children, eagerly laying down their +playthings.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span></p> + +<p>"No," said Mrs. March. "Rob must not get up yet: +it is too cold; but you may get up, Nell, and help me get +breakfast. Can you leave your new dolly?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, mamma!" cried Nelly, "indeed I can." And +laying the dolly carefully between the bed-clothes with her +head on the pillow, she kissed her, and said, "Good-by, dear +Josephine Harriet: you won't be very long alone. I will +come back soon."</p> + +<p>Rob burst out laughing. "What a name!" he said, +mimicking Nelly. "Josephine Harriet! whoever heard such +a name?"</p> + +<p>"I think it's a real pretty name, Rob," replied Nelly. +"Boys don't know any thing about dolls names. Besides, +she is named for two people: Josephine is for that poor, +dear, beautiful Empress that mamma told us about; I've +always thought since then if ever I had a doll handsome +enough, I'd name her after her. And Harriet is after Hatty +Pratt. I love Hatty dearly, and she's named two dolls after +me."</p> + +<p>"Well, I shall call the doll the Empress, then," said Rob, +in a tone intended to be very sarcastic.</p> + +<p>"Yes; so shall I," replied Nelly: "I thought of that. It +will sound very nice."</p> + +<p>Rob looked a little disappointed. He thought it would +tease Nelly to have her doll called "The Empress."</p> + +<p>"No: I think I'll call her Mrs. Napoleon," said he.</p> + +<p>"Well," said Nelly, "I suppose that would do,"—Nelly +had not the least idea that Rob was making fun of her,—"but +I don't believe they ever call the real Empress so. I +don't remember it in the story. I'll ask mamma. I think +Mrs. Napoleon is a beautiful name: don't you, Rob?"</p> + +<p>By this time Rob was too deep in the "Cliff Climbers"—one +of his new books—to answer; and Nelly was all<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> +dressed ready to go downstairs. As she left the room, Rob +called out:—</p> + +<p>"I say, Nell, tell mamma I don't want any breakfast. I'd +rather stay in bed and read this story."</p> + +<p>It was a very droll Christmas-day, but the children always +said it was one of the very pleasantest they ever spent. It +turned out that the cook was really in a heavy drunken +sleep. She had been partly under the influence of liquor +when she went to bed the night before. That was the reason +she had asked Nelly where they would be sleeping in the +morning. She did not know what she was saying when she +said that. Mr. March went and brought a doctor to look +at her in her sleep, for they were afraid it might be apoplexy; +but the doctor only laughed, and said:—</p> + +<p>"Pshaw! The woman's drunk. Let her alone. She'll +wake up by noon."</p> + +<p>Mr. and Mrs. March felt very unhappy about this, for +Sarah had lived with them two years, and had never done +such a thing before. She did not wake up by noon, as the +doctor had said. She did not wake up till nearly night; +and, when she went downstairs, there were Mrs. March and +Nelly and Rob in the kitchen, all at work. Mrs. March and +Nelly were washing the dishes, and Rob was cleaning the +knives. They had cooked the dinner and eaten it, and +cleared every thing away. Sarah dropped into a chair, and +looked from one to the other without speaking.</p> + +<p>"Hullo!" said Rob, "you cooked us a nice Christmas +dinner: didn't you? We'd have never had any if we'd +waited for you."</p> + +<p>"Do you feel sick now, Sarah?" said good-hearted little +Nelly.</p> + +<p>Sarah did not speak. Her brain was not yet clear. She +looked helplessly from Mrs. March to the children, and +from the children to Mrs. March. Then she rose and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> +walked unsteadily to the table, and tried to take the towel +out of Nelly's hands.</p> + +<p>"Let me wipe the dishes," she said: "my head's better +now."</p> + +<p>"No, Sarah," said Mrs. March, sternly. "Go back to +your room. You're not yet fit to be on your feet."</p> + +<p>The children wondered very much that their mamma, +who was usually so kind, should speak so sternly to Sarah; +but they asked no questions. They were too full of the +excitement of doing all the work, and looking at their presents, +and talking about them. The hours flew by so quickly +that it was dark before they knew it; and, when they went +to bed, they both exclaimed together:—</p> + +<p>"Oh, Nell!" and "Oh, Rob! hasn't it been a splendid +Christmas!"</p> + +<p>They remembered it for a great many years, for it was +the last Christmas they spent in their pleasant home at +Mayfield.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER II</h2> + +<h4>A TALK ABOUT LEAVING MAYFIELD</h4> + + +<p>The next day a big snow fell. It was one of those snows +which fall so thick and fast and fine, that when you look +out of the windows it seems as if great white sheets were +being let down from the skies. When Rob first waked +and saw this snow falling, he exclaimed:—</p> + +<p>"Hurrah! here's a bully snow-storm! Now we'll get +some snow-balling. Say, Nell, won't you help me build a +real big snow-fort with high walls that we can stand behind, +and fire snow-balls at the boys?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Rob!" said Nelly, "I'm afraid mamma won't let +you play in the snow yet: your throat isn't well enough; +but by next week I think it will be. We'll have snow right +along now all winter."</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear!" said Rob, fretfully: "there it is again. +I can't ever do any thing I want to."</p> + +<p>"Why, Rob," replied Nelly, "aren't you ashamed of +yourself, with that lovely kaleidoscope and all those books? +I shouldn't think you'd want to go out to-day. I'm sure I +don't. I'd rather stay at home with Mrs. Napoleon and +the rest of my dolls all day than go anywhere,—that is, +unless it was to take a sleigh-ride. Mamma said perhaps, +if it stopped snowing, papa might take us on a sleigh-ride +this afternoon."</p> + +<p>"Did she?" exclaimed Rob; "oh, bully! But then I +suppose I can't go," he added, in a quite altered tone.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes! you can," answered Nelly, "mamma said so.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> +I heard her tell papa it would do you good to go well +wrapped up."</p> + +<p>"I hate to be bundled up so," said Rob. "It's as hot +as fury; and, besides, it makes the boys laugh; last time I +went out so, Ned Saunders he stood on his father's store +steps, when we stopped there,—mamma wanted to buy a +broom,—and Ned called out, 'By-by, baby bunting, where's +your little rabbit skin?' I shan't go if mamma makes me +wear that red shawl, so!" and Rob's face was the picture +of misery.</p> + +<p>Nelly's cheeks flushed at the thought of the insulting +taunt to Rob which was conveyed in that quotation from +Mother Goose: but she was a very wise and clear-headed +little girl, as you have no doubt discovered before this time, +and she knew much better than to let Rob think she felt +as he did about it; so all she said was, "I don't care: I +shouldn't mind. If Ned Saunders had the sore throat, he'd +have to be wrapped up just the same way. Boys are a great +deal hatefuller than girls. No girl would ever say such a +thing as that to a girl if she was sick, or to a boy either."</p> + +<p>"No, I don't suppose they would," said Rob, reflectively. +"Girls are nicer than boys some ways: that's a fact."</p> + +<p>In the excitement of the Christmas presents, and the +getting of the Christmas dinner, and all the housework which +had to be done afterward, Nelly had forgotten about the +conversation which she had overheard in the night between +her father and mother. But in the quiet of this stormy +morning it all came back to her. She and Rob were spending +the forenoon in the place which they liked best in all +the house, their mother's room. It was a beautiful sunny +chamber, with two big bay-windows in it,—one looking to +the south, and one to the west; the south window looked +out on the garden, and the west window looked out on a +great pine grove which was only a few rods away from the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> +house; on the east side of the room was the fireplace with a +low grate set in it; the fire burned better in this fireplace +than in any other in the house, the children thought. That +was because they had a nice time every night, sitting down +a while in front of this fire and talking with their mother. +This was the time when they told her things they didn't +quite like to tell in the daytime; and this was the time she +always took to tell them things she was anxious they should +remember. They associated all their talks with the bright +open fire; and, whenever they saw the flames of soft coal +leaping up and shining, they remembered a great many +things their mother had said to them.</p> + +<p>There was a large old-fashioned mahogany table on +one side of this room, which Mrs. March used for cutting +out work, and which the children liked better than any thing +in the room. It had droll twisted legs which ended in knobs +and castors, and it had big leaves fastened on with brass +hinges which opened and shut; when these leaves were open +the table was so big that both Rob and Nelly could be up +on it at once, and have plenty of room for their things. This +morning their mother had let them open it out to its full +size, and push it close up in one corner of the room, so +that the walls made a fine back for them to lean against. +Nelly sat on one side, with all her dolls ranged in a row +against the wall, Mrs. Napoleon at the head. In front of +her, she had all their clothes in one great pile, and was sorting +and arranging them in the little bureau and trunk and +boxes in which she kept them. Rob sat opposite her with +his feet on a blanket shawl, so that they would not scratch +the mahogany; he was reading the "Cliff Climbers," and +every few minutes he would break out with:—</p> + +<p>"This is the most splendid story of all yet."</p> + +<p>"Nell, look at this picture of them going up over the +cliff by ropes. Oh, don't I just wish I could go to some +such place!"</p> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 486px;"> +<img src="images/illus01.jpg" width="486" height="700" alt="Nelly with her dolls " title="Nelly with her dolls" /> +<span class="caption">Nelly sat on one side with all her dolls ranged in a row against +the wall. Page 20</span> +</div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span></p> + +<p>After a while, Nelly leaned her head back against the +wall, and stopped playing with her dolls. She looked at +the snow-storm outside, and the bright fire in the grate, and +exclaimed, "Oh, mamma! isn't it nice here?"</p> + +<p>There was something in Nelly's tone which made her +mother look up surprised.</p> + +<p>"Why, yes, dear; of course it is nice here; it is always +nice here; what made you think of it just now?"</p> + +<p>Nelly March was one of the honestest little girls that +ever lived. Nothing seemed to her so dreadful as a lie; +but she came very near telling one now.</p> + +<p>"I don't know, mamma," she said; but, almost before +the words were out of her mouth, she added:—</p> + +<p>"Yes, I do know, too; I meant I didn't want to tell."</p> + +<p>"Why not? my little daughter," said Mrs. March, looking +much puzzled. "Surely it cannot be any thing you do +not want mamma to know."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, mamma! it is something you didn't want me +to know," said Nelly hastily, turning very red.</p> + +<p>"Something I didn't want you to know, Nell," she said. +"What do you mean? And how did you know it then?"</p> + +<p>"She listened, she listened," cried Rob, throwing down +his book, "and she wouldn't tell me a thing either, and she +was real mean."</p> + +<p>The tears came into Nelly's eyes, and Mrs. March looked +very sternly at Rob.</p> + +<p>"Rob," she said, "telling tales is as mean as listening: +I'm ashamed of you. Nell, what does he mean?"</p> + +<p>Poor Nelly was almost crying.</p> + +<p>"Indeed, mamma," she exclaimed, "I didn't listen; and +I told Rob then I didn't; he's told a lie, a wicked lie, and +he ought to be punished, mamma; he knows it's a lie."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It ain't either," shouted Rob, "if you didn't listen how'd +you hear? She did listen, mamma, and now she's told a +lie too."</p> + +<p>Mrs. March threw down her sewing, and walked quickly +across the room to the table where the children were sitting. +She put one hand on Nelly's head, and one on Rob's.</p> + +<p>"My dear children," she said, "you shock me. Do think +what you are saying: this is a bad beginning for the new +year."</p> + +<p>"'Tain't New Year yet for a week," muttered Rob. +"This needn't count."</p> + +<p>Mrs. March laughed in spite of herself.</p> + +<p>"Every thing counts, Rob, which we do, whether it +is the beginning of a New Year or not. Mamma ought +not to have spoken as if that made any odds. But you +must not accuse each other of lying. That is a most dreadful +thing. I know neither of you would tell a lie."</p> + +<p>"Course we wouldn't," cried both the children.</p> + +<p>"Neither would Nelly listen, Rob, in any such sense as +you meant," continued Mrs. March. "Sometimes we over-hear +things when we do not mean to."</p> + +<p>"That's just the way it was, mamma," interrupted Nelly +eagerly; "and I told Rob so: it was in the night, night +before last, and you and papa were talking, and I was awake, +and I could not help hearing, and I coughed as loud as I +could for you to hear."</p> + +<p>"Oh," said Mrs. March, "that is it, is it? I remember +you coughed, and I shut the door. I did not think you +were awake, but I was afraid we should waken you. We +were talking about going away from this place."</p> + +<p>"Yes, mamma," said Nelly, in a sad tone.</p> + +<p>"Going away! Oh, mamma, are we really going away? +oh, where? say where, mamma, say quick!" cried Rob,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> +throwing down his "Cliff Climbers," and springing from +the table to the floor at one bound.</p> + +<p>"Gently, gently, wild boy," said Mrs. March, catching +Rob by one arm and drawing him into her lap. In spite +of all Rob's ill temper and selfishness, I think Mrs. March +loved him a little better than she loved Nelly. Neither Nelly +nor Rob dreamed of this, and perhaps Mrs. March never +was conscious of it herself; but other people could see it.</p> + +<p>"Why, Rob," she said, "would you be glad to go away +from this house, and the grove, and the pond, and from all +your friends, and go to live in a strange place where you +didn't know anybody?"</p> + +<p>Rob's face sobered.</p> + +<p>"To stay, mamma?" he said, "to stay always?"</p> + +<p>Nelly did not speak. She knew more about this matter +than Rob did. She watched her mother's face very earnestly +and sadly, and tears filled her eyes when Mrs. March +answered:—</p> + +<p>"I am afraid so, Rob: if we go I do not believe we shall +ever come back. I didn't mean to let you know any thing +about it till it was all settled. But, since you have heard +something about it, I will tell you all I know myself. Come +here, Nelly; both of you sit down now at my feet, and I +will talk to you about it."</p> + +<p>Nelly and Rob sat down on two low crickets by their +mother's knee, and looked up in her face without speaking. +They felt that something very serious was coming. Before +Mrs. March began to speak, she kissed them both several +times, then she said:—</p> + +<p>"There is one thing I am very sure of: both my little +children will be brave and good, if hard times come."</p> + +<p>"Oh, mamma! tell us quick; don't bother," interrupted +impatient Rob, "let's know what it is quick, mamma. Are<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> +we going to be awful poor, like the people in story books? +I don't care if we are, if that's all. Let's have it over."</p> + +<p>Mrs. March laughed again: one reason she loved Rob +so much was that his temper was so much like her own. +It had been very hard for her herself to learn to be patient, +and to be sufficiently moderate in her speech; and even now +there was nothing in the world she disliked so much as +suspense of any kind. She could make up her mind to +endure almost any thing, if only it were fixed and settled. +So when Rob burst out with impatient speeches like this +one, she knew exactly how he felt. And sometimes when +Nelly took things quietly and calmly, and was so deliberate +in all her movements, Mrs. March misunderstood her, and +thought she did not really care about any thing half as much +as Rob did. But the truth was, Nelly really cared a great +deal more about almost everything, than he did. He forgot +things in a day, or an hour even; sad things, pleasant +things, all alike: they blew away from Rob's memory and +Rob's heart like leaves in a great wind, and he never thought +much more about any thing than just whether he liked it +or disliked it at the moment. The phrase he used to his +mother just now was very often on his lips, "Oh, don't +bother!" Especially he used to say this to Nelly whenever +she tried to reason with him about something which she +thought not quite right or not quite safe. You would have +thought to hear them talk that Nelly was at least five years +older than he: she talked to him like a little mother. At +this moment, when Rob was hurrying his mother so impatiently, +Nelly exclaimed, "Oh, hush, Rob! do let mamma +tell it as she wants to;" and Nelly drew up close to her +mother's side, and laid her cheek down on her mother's hand. +Nelly's heart was as full as it could be of sympathy: she +knew that her mother felt very unhappy about going away, +and Nelly's way of showing her sympathy was to be very<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> +loving and tender and quiet; but, strange as it may seem, +this did not comfort and help Mrs. March so much as Rob's +off-hand and impatient way.</p> + +<p>"Well, but she's so slow: ain't you slow, mamma? And +it's horrid to wait," replied Rob.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Rob," laughed Mrs. March. "I am rather slow, +and it is horrid to wait; but I won't be slow any longer: +this is what papa and I were talking about the other night,—about +going out to Colorado to live."</p> + +<p>"Colorado! where's that? Is it anywhere near the +Himalayas?" cried Rob. "If it is, I'd like to go; oh, I'd +like to go ever so much."</p> + +<p>Mrs. March laughed out loud. "Oh you droll Rob," she +said. "No, it's nowhere near the Himalayas; but there +are mountains there about as high as the Himalayas,—higher +than any other mountains in America."</p> + +<p>"Are there elephants?" said Rob. "I wouldn't mind +about any thing if there are only elephants."</p> + +<p>"Rob, how can you!" burst out Nelly, with a vehemence +very unusual in her. "How can you! It's because papa's +sick that we are going."</p> + +<p>"Why, what's the matter with papa?" said Rob, +wonderingly.</p> + +<p>Mr. March had been a sufferer from asthma for so many +years that no one any longer thought of him as an invalid. +He was very rarely confined to the house, and, except in +the summer, his asthma did not give him a great deal of +trouble; but in the summer it was so bad that for weeks +he was not able to preach at all: I believe I have forgotten +all this time to tell you that he was a minister. I have been +so busy talking about Nelly and Rob, that I have hardly told +you any thing about their papa and mamma.</p> + +<p>Mr. March had been settled in this village of Mayfield +for fifteen years, and the people loved him so much that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> +they would not hear of having any other minister. When +his asthma was so bad that he could not preach, they hired +some one else; always in the summer they gave him a two-months' +vacation; and, whenever any stranger said any +thing unkind about his asthmatic voice, they always replied, +"If Mr. March couldn't preach in any thing more than a +whisper, we'd rather hear him than any other man living." +The truth was, that they had grown so accustomed to the +asthmatic, wheezy tone, that they did not notice it. It really +was very unpleasant to a stranger's ear, and everybody +wondered how a whole congregation of people could endure +it. But it is wonderful how much love can do to reconcile +us to disagreeable things in the people we love; and +not only to reconcile us to them, but to make us forget them +entirely. Nelly and Rob never thought but that their father's +voice was as pleasant as anybody's: when his breath came +very short and quick, they knew he was suffering, but at +other times they did not remember any thing about his +having asthma; this was the reason that Rob said so wonderingly +now:—</p> + +<p>"Why, what is the matter with papa?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. March's voice was very sad as she replied:—</p> + +<p>"Only his asthma, dear, which he has had so many years, +but it is growing much worse; and we have seen a gentleman +lately who has come from Colorado, and he says that +people never have asthma at all there, and the doctor says +if papa does not go to some such climate to live, he will get +worse and worse, so that he will not be able to do any thing. +You don't know how much poor papa suffers, even here. +He has not been able to lie down in bed for almost a year +now; ever since early last summer."</p> + +<p>"Not lie down!" exclaimed Nelly, "why, what does he +do, mamma? How does he sleep?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span></p> + +<p>"He sleeps propped up with pillows, dear, almost as +straight as he would be in a chair," replied Mrs. March.</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear," cried Rob, "isn't that awful! Why didn't +you ever tell us, mamma? Isn't he awful tired? What +makes people not have asthma in Colorado, anyhow?"</p> + +<p>"Which question first, Rob?" said Mrs. March. "I +haven't told you, because papa dislikes very much to have +any thing said about it. Yes: he is very tired all the time. +He never feels rested in the morning as you do. I don't +know why people never have asthma in Colorado; but I +think it must be because the air is so very dry there. They +never have any rain there from October to April, and the +country is very high; some of the towns where people live +are twice as high as the highest mountains you ever saw."</p> + +<p>"Mamma!" exclaimed Rob, with so loud and earnest a +voice that both Mrs. March and Nelly gave a little jump. +"Mamma, if it's the being so high up that does the good, +why couldn't we go to the Himalayas instead? Oh, it's +perfectly splendid there! just let me read you about it," +and Rob ran back to the table for his "Cliff Climbers," and +was about to begin to read aloud from it. Mrs. March could +not help laughing: and Nelly laughed too; for Nelly, although +she was no older than Rob, was very much ahead +of him in her studies at school, and she knew very well +where the Himalaya mountains were, and that there would +be no way of living there comfortably even if it were not +quite too far to go.</p> + +<p>"But, Rob,—" began Mrs. March.</p> + +<p>"You just wait till I read you, mamma," interrupted +Rob; "you haven't read the 'Cliff Climbers,' and you don't +know any thing about it. Perhaps the doctors don't know +how many good things grow there; and the mountains are +five miles high, some of them. I'm sure papa couldn't have +the asthma as high up as that: could he?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span></p> + +<p>"My dear little boy," said Mrs. March, putting her hand +on the book and shutting it up, "you are always too hasty: +you must stop and listen. Nobody could live five miles up +in the air. That would be as much too high as this is too +low; and things which sound very fine to read about would +be very inconvenient in real life."</p> + +<p>"Yes," interrupted Rob, "an elephant tore down their +cabin one night,—just tramped right over it, and smashed +it all flat as we would an ant-hill. That wouldn't be very +nice: but we needn't live where the elephants come; we could +just go out to hunt them in the summer."</p> + +<p>Rob's eyes were dark blue, and when he was eager and +excited they seemed to turn black, and to be twice their +usual size. He was so eager now that his eyes were fairly +dancing in his head. He was possessed of this idea about +going to live in the Himalaya mountains, and nothing could +stop him.</p> + +<p>"They're all heathen there too, mamma, and wouldn't +papa like that? He could preach to them, don't you know? +Oh, it would be splendid! and I could collect seeds just like +these cliff climbers, and stuff birds, and make lots of money +sending them back to this country."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Rob!" exclaimed Nelly, at last; "do stop talking, +and let mamma talk: she hasn't half told us yet. It's all +nonsense about the Himalayas. We couldn't go there; nobody +goes there. I'll just show you on your new globe +where it is, and you can see for yourself." So saying, Nelly +ran for the globe, and was proceeding to show Rob what +a long journey round the world it would be to reach the +Himalayas; but Rob pushed the globe away.</p> + +<p>"I don't care any thing about the old globe," he said; +"people do go there, for Mayne Reid's books are all true; +he says they are, and it isn't all nonsense about the Himalayas; +is it, mamma? Couldn't we go there?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span></p> + +<p>Rob was fast growing angry.</p> + +<p>"No, Rob," said Mrs. March: "we cannot go to the +Himalayas to live; that is very certain. One of these days, +when you're a man, I hope you will be able to go all about +the world and see all these countries you are so fond of +reading about: you will have to wait till then for the +Himalayas. If we go away from home at all, we must go +to Colorado. That is quite far enough: it will take us four +whole days and five nights, going just as fast as the cars +can go, to get there."</p> + +<p>"I don't care where we go, if we can't go to the Himalayas," +said Rob, sulkily. "I think it's real mean if we've +got to go away not to go there. I know it would be real +good for papa."</p> + +<p>Mrs. March laughed again very heartily.</p> + +<p>"Rob," she said, "you are a very queer little boy. +Mamma can't understand how you get so excited over things +in such a short time. A few minutes ago you had never +thought of such a thing as going to the Himalayas; and here +you are already sure that it would be good for papa to go +there. Why, even the doctors are not sure what would be +good for papa! It is very hard to tell."</p> + +<p>"Does it really take four whole days and five nights to +get to Colorado?" asked Rob. He had already given up +the idea of the Himalayas, and was beginning to think about +Colorado. Rob's mind moved from one thing to another +as quickly as a weathercock when the wind is shifting.</p> + +<p>"Yes: four whole days and five nights," said Mrs. March; +"or else four nights and five days, according to the time you +start."</p> + +<p>"Five days! days! Let's start so as to make it come +five days; so as to see all we can," exclaimed Rob. "That's +splendid! When will we start, mamma?"</p> + +<p>"It isn't really sure, is it, mamma, that we are to go?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> +asked Nelly, who had hardly had a chance yet to speak a +word: Rob had been talking so fast. "Does papa want +to go?"</p> + +<p>You see how much more thoughtful Nelly was for other +people than for herself. All Rob was thinking of was what +good times might come of this journey; but Nelly was thinking +how hard it was for her papa and mamma to break up +their pleasant home, and how sad it might be for all of +them to go to live among strangers.</p> + +<p>"No, dear," said Mrs. March. "Papa does not want to +go at all. It is very hard for him to make up his mind to +do it. And I do not want to go either, except on papa's +account: but we would go anywhere in the world that would +make papa well; wouldn't we?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed," said Nelly, earnestly.</p> + +<p>"Why doesn't papa want to go?" cried Rob. "There'll +be plenty of people there to preach to: won't there? And +that's all papa cares for."</p> + +<p>"Papa doesn't like to leave all these people here that +he has preached to for so many years: he loves them all +very much," replied Mrs. March; "and he does not expect +to preach any more if he goes to Colorado. There are not +a great many villages there; it is chiefly a wild new country: +people live on great farms and keep large herds of sheep +or of cows; and the doctor wants papa to be a farmer and +work out of doors, and not live in his study among his +books any more."</p> + +<p>"Be a farmer like Uncle Alonzo?" exclaimed Nelly. +"Oh, mamma, wouldn't that be nice? and wouldn't papa +like that? He always has a good time when he goes to +Uncle Alonzo's. He says it makes him feel as if he was +a boy again. And oh, mamma, the cows are beautiful. +Don't you like cows, mamma?"</p> + +<p>Nelly was now almost as excited as Rob. She had been<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> +several times to make a visit at her Uncle Alonzo's house. +He was a rich farmer, and had big barns, and fields full +of raspberries and huckleberries, and a beautiful pine grove +close to the house; and he had nearly a hundred cows, and +used to make butter and cheese to sell, and both Nelly and +Rob thought there was nothing so delightful in the whole +world as to stay at Uncle Alonzo's.</p> + +<p>"No, dear," said Mrs. March. "I can't honestly say I +do like cows. I am so silly as to be afraid of them. But +I like your Uncle Alonzo's farm very much."</p> + +<p>"Oh, mamma, how can you be afraid of a cow!" cried +Rob. "They never hurt you."</p> + +<p>"I suppose it's because I am a coward, Rob," answered +Mrs. March; "but I can't help it. I was chased by a bull +once when I was a girl; and, ever since then, I have been +afraid of any thing which has horns on its head."</p> + +<p>"Is that what the word coward comes from, mamma?" +asked Rob: "does it mean to be afraid of a cow?"</p> + +<p>"I guess not, Rob," said Mrs. March, laughing. "Don't +begin to make puns, Rob: it is a bad habit."</p> + +<p>"Puns!" said Rob, much surprised; "what is a pun?"</p> + +<p>Then Mrs. March tried to explain to Rob what a pun +was, but it was very hard work; and I don't think Rob +understood, after all her explanations, so I shall not try to +explain it to you here; but I dare say a great many of you +understand what a pun is, and, if you do, you will see that +Rob had accidentally made rather a good pun, for a little +boy only twelve years old, when he asked if a coward was +a person afraid of a cow.</p> + +<p>Presently the dinner-bell rang.</p> + +<p>"Why, mamma," exclaimed both the children, "it isn't +dinner-time, is it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, it really is," said Mrs. March, looking at her watch:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> +"I had no idea it was so late. Where has the morning +gone to?"</p> + +<p>"Gone to Colorado," exclaimed Rob, running downstairs, +"gone to Colorado! Hurrah for Colorado."</p> + +<p>"By way of the Himalayas," said Nelly behind him, as +they ran downstairs.</p> + +<p>"Be still, Nell, can't you," said Rob, half vexed, half +laughing. "I haven't been in Geography half so long as +you have. We haven't come to the Himalayas yet."</p> + +<p>Mr. March was just coming in at the front-door. He +was so covered with snow that he looked like a snow-man; +and as he stamped his feet on the door-mat, and shook +off the snow from his overcoat and hat and beard, there +seemed to be quite a snow-storm in the hall.</p> + +<p>"Hurrah for Colorado," he repeated. "What does that +mean? Who is going to Colorado?"</p> + +<p>"All of us, papa; all of us, papa," cried Rob. "Mamma's +told us all about it, so you can't keep it a secret any longer."</p> + +<p>Mr. March looked up inquiringly at Mrs. March, who +was coming down the stairs behind Nelly and Rob.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she said, in answer to his inquiring look. "Yes. +I have told the children all about it, and they are both wild +to go, though Rob thinks the Himalayas would be a better +place for you."</p> + +<p>Mr. March burst into a loud laugh.</p> + +<p>"The Himalayas!" he exclaimed. "Why, what do you +know about the Himalayas, my boy?"</p> + +<p>It was rather too bad to laugh at Rob so much about +his idea of the Himalayas, I think; because almost any boy +who had just been reading Captain Mayne Reid's "Cliff +Climbers," would think that there could be nothing in this +life half so fine to do as to go to the Himalayas to live. +Rob took it very good-naturedly this time, however.</p> + +<p>"Not any thing, papa," he replied, "except what is in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> +that book you gave me, the 'Cliff Climbers;' but that says +some of the mountains are five miles high, and I thought +that would cure the asthma, to go up as high as that. +Mamma says that's what we are going to Colorado for, to +get up high, to cure your asthma."</p> + +<p>"Papa, we're so glad to go if it will make you better," +said Nelly, taking hold of her father's hand with both of +hers. Mr. March stooped over and kissed Nelly on her +forehead.</p> + +<p>"I know you are," he said: "you are papa's own little +comfort always."</p> + +<p>Mr. March loved both of his children very dearly; but +Nelly gave him more pleasure than Rob did. He often said +to his wife when they were alone: "Nelly never gives me +a moment's anxiety. The child has all the traits which will +make her a noble and a useful and a happy woman; but I +am not so sure about Rob. I am afraid we shall have +trouble with him." And Mrs. March always replied: "It +is very true all you say about Nelly. She is a thoroughly +good child; but you are quite mistaken about Rob. He is +very hasty and impulsive; but he will come out all right. He +has twice Nelly's cleverness, though he is so backward about +his books. You'll see."</p> + +<p>"I'm glad too, papa," cried Rob, "just as glad as any +thing. It will be splendid to live on a farm. Shall you +wear blue overalls like Uncle Alonzo? And will you let +me help milk? And can't I have a bull pup? I'm going to +call him Caesar."</p> + +<p>"Well, upon my word, young people," said Mr. March; +and he looked at his wife when he spoke, "you seem to have +got this thing pretty well settled between you. I don't know +that we are going to Colorado at all: after dinner we will +all sit down together and talk it over. I've got a letter here"—and +he took a big envelope out of his pocket—"from a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> +gentleman I wrote to in Colorado, and he has sent me some +pictures of different places there, and of some of the strange +rocks. We can't have our sleigh-ride this afternoon; it is +not going to stop snowing: so we may as well take a journey +to Colorado on paper; perhaps it will be the only way we +shall ever go."</p> + +<p>Rob and Nelly could hardly eat their dinner: they were +so eager to see the Colorado pictures and to hear all about +the country.</p> + +<p>As Mr. March looked at their eager faces, he sighed, +and thought to himself:—</p> + +<p>"Dear little souls! They have no idea of what is before +them if we go to Colorado. It is as well they haven't."</p> + +<p>"What makes you look so sad, papa?" said Nelly.</p> + +<p>"Did I look sad, Nelly?" replied Mr. March. "I didn't +mean to. I was thinking how delighted you and Rob seemed +at the idea of going to Colorado, and thinking that you +would probably find it very different from what you expect. +You would not be so comfortable there as you are here."</p> + +<p>"Isn't there enough to eat out there?" asked Rob, +anxiously.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes!" said Mr. March, laughing, "plenty to eat."</p> + +<p>"Well, that's all I care for," said Rob. "Oh, papa, do +hurry! you never ate your dinner so slow before. I've been +done ever so long. Can't I be excused, and go and read +till you're ready to show us the pictures?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Mrs. March, "you may both go up into my +room; and, as soon as papa and I have finished our dinner, +we will come up there and have our talk."</p> + +<p>Mrs. March wished to have a little conversation alone with +her husband before their talk with the children. She told +him about Nelly's having accidentally overheard what they +were saying in the night; "so I thought I would tell them +all about it," she said.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Certainly, certainly," said Mr. March. "There is no +reason they should not know. Even if we do not go, no +harm can come of it."</p> + +<p>Then she told him of the obstinate notion Rob had taken +into his head about the Himalayas, and how hard it had +been to convince him that they ought not to set off for +those mountains at once. Mr. March was laughing very +heartily over this as they went up the stairs, and, as they +entered the room, Rob said:—</p> + +<p>"What are you and mamma laughing so about, papa?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. March gave her husband a meaning look, intended +to warn him not to tell Rob that they were laughing at him; +but Mr. March did not understand her glance.</p> + +<p>"Laughing at your fierce desire to start off for the +Himalayas, Rob," he said.</p> + +<p>"I don't care," said Rob: "I'm going there some day. +You just read the 'Cliff Climbers,' and see if you don't think +so too. I'll take you and mamma and Nell there when I'm +a man and have money enough; see if I don't."</p> + +<p>"Well, well, Rob, we'll go when that time comes, if +we're not too old when you're rich enough to pay all that +the journey costs. I've always thought I should like to go +round the world," said Mr. March; "but now we'll look +at the Colorado pictures."</p> + +<p>Then they sat down, Mr. and Mrs. March on the lounge +in front of the fire, Nelly in her father's lap, and Rob +perched up on the back of the lounge behind his mother, so +that he could look over her shoulder.</p> + +<p>The first picture Mr. March took out of the envelope was +one which looked like the picture of two gigantic legs and +feet wrong side up.</p> + +<p>"Oh, what big feet!" exclaimed Rob. "Do giants live +in Colorado?"</p> + +<p>Mr. March turned the picture the other side up.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span></p> + +<p>"They are rocks, Rob," he said, "not feet; but they do +look like feet, that's a fact. These are some of the rocks +in a place called Monument Park, because it is so full of +these queer rocks. Here are some more of them: they are +of very strange shapes. Here are some that look like +women walking with big hoop-skirts on, and some like posts +with round caps on their heads; and here is a picture of a +place where so many of these rocks are scattered among +the trees, that they look like people walking about. Here is +one group which has been called the 'Quaker Wedding.'"</p> + +<p>"Oh, let me see that! let me see that!" exclaimed Nelly. +"How queer to call rocks Quakers!"</p> + +<p>"I don't see that they look very much like men and +women, after all," added she as she studied the picture; +"but they don't look like any rocks I ever saw. I think +I should be afraid of them. They look alive."</p> + +<p>"Pooh!" said Rob, "I shouldn't be. Rocks can't stir. +Show us some more, papa."</p> + +<p>The next pictures were of beautiful waterfalls: there +were three of them,—one of seven falls, one above the +other, and one of a beautiful fall, very narrow, hemmed +in between rocks, with tall pine-trees growing about it. +The next was of a high mountain with snow half way down +its sides, and a great many lower mountains all around +it. This was called Pike's Peak.</p> + +<p>"Oh, papa!" said Nelly, "could we live where we could +see that mountain all the time?"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps so, Nell," answered her father, smiling at her +eagerness: "would you like to?"</p> + +<p>Nelly was looking at the picture intently, and did not +reply for a moment. Then she said:—</p> + +<p>"Papa, I think it would keep us good all the time to +look at that mountain."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Why, Nell," said her mother, "I didn't know you cared +so much for mountains. You never said so."</p> + +<p>"I never saw a real mountain before," said Nelly. "This +isn't a bit like Mount Saycross."</p> + +<p>The town of Mayfield was in one of the pleasantest counties +in Massachusetts. The region was very beautifully +wooded and had several small rivers in it, and one range +of low hills called the Saycross Hills; the highest of these +was perhaps three thousand feet high, and Nelly had spent +many a day on its top: but she had never seen any thing +which gave her any idea of the grandeur of a high mountain +till she saw this picture of Pike's Peak. It seemed as if +she could not take her eyes away from this picture: she +looked at it as one looks at the picture of the face of a +friend.</p> + +<p>"Oh papa!" she exclaimed at last, "let me have this +picture for my own: won't you? I'll be very, very careful +of it."</p> + +<p>"Yes, you may have it if you want it so much," replied +Mr. March, "but be very sure not to lose it. I may want +to show it to some one, any day."</p> + +<p>"I won't lose it, papa," said Nelly, in a tone of so much +feeling that her father looked at her in surprise.</p> + +<p>"Why, Nell," he said, "you must be a born mountaineer +I think."</p> + +<p>And so she was. From the day she first looked on this +picture of Pike's Peak till the day when she stood at the foot +of the real mountain itself, it was seldom out of her mind. +She kept the little card in the box with Mrs. Napoleon's +best bonnet and gown, and she talked so much about it +that her father called her his "little Pike's Peak girl."</p> + +<p>The rest of the pictures were of some of the towns in +Colorado, some ranches,—ranches is the word which the +Coloradoans use instead of farm,—and some beautiful<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> +canyons. A canyon is either a narrow valley with very high +steep sides to it, or a chasm between two rocky walls. The +most beautiful and wonderful things in Colorado are the +canyons; they all have streams of water running through +them; in fact, the canyons may be said to be roads which +rivers and creeks have made for themselves among the +mountains. Sometimes the river has cut a road for itself +right down through solid rock, twelve hundred feet deep. +You can think how deep that must be, by looking at the +walls of the room you are sitting in, as you read this story. +Probably the walls of your room are about ten feet high. +Now imagine walls of rock one hundred and twenty times +as high as that; and only far enough apart for a small river +to go through at the bottom; and then imagine beautiful +great pine-trees, and many sorts of shrubs and flowers growing +all the way down these sides, and along the upper edges +of them, and don't you see what a wonderful place a canyon +must be? You mustn't think either that they are just +straight up and down walls, such as a mason might build +out of bricks, or that they run straight in one direction for +their whole length. They are made up often of great rocks +as big as houses piled one on top of another, and all rough +and full of points, and with big caves in them; and they +turn and twist, just as the river has turned and twisted, to +the north or south or east or west. Sometimes they take +such sharp turns that, when you look ahead, all you can see +is the big high wall right before you, and it looks as if you +couldn't go any farther; but, when you go a few steps +nearer, you will see that both the high walls bend off to +the right or the left, and the river is still running between +them, and you can go right on. One of the prettiest pictures +which Mr. March's friend had sent him was of a canyon +called Boulder Canyon. It is named after the town of +Boulder, which is very near it. This is one of the most<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> +beautiful canyons in all Colorado. It is very narrow, for +the creek which made it is a small creek; but the bed of +the creek is full of great rocks, and the creek just goes +tumbling head over heels, if a creek can be said to have head +and heels. Ten miles long this canyon is, and the creek +is in a white foam all the way. There is just room for +the road by side of the creek; first one side and then the +other. I think it crosses the creek as many as twenty-five +times in the ten miles; and it is shaded all the way by beautiful +trees, and flowers grow in every crevice of the rocks, +and along the edge of the water. As Rob and Nelly looked +at picture after picture of these beautiful places, they grew +more and more excited. Rob could not keep still: he jumped +down from his perch behind his mother's shoulder, and ran +round to his father's knee. "Papa, papa! say you'll go? +say you'll go?" and Nelly said in her quieter voice:—</p> + +<p>"Oh papa! I didn't know there were such beautiful places +in the world. Don't you think we'll go?"</p> + +<p>Pretty soon it grew too dark to look at the pictures any +longer, and Mrs. March sent the children downstairs to play +in the dining-room by the fire-light.</p> + +<p>After they had gone, she said to her husband: "Doesn't +it make you more willing to go, Robert, to see how eager the +children are for it?"</p> + +<p>Mr. March sighed.</p> + +<p>"I do not know, Sarah," he said. "Their feelings are +very soon changed one way or the other. A little discomfort +would soon make them unhappy. I have great fears +about the rough life out there, both for them and for you."</p> + +<p>"I wish you would not think so much about that," replied +Mrs. March. "I am convinced that you exaggerate it. I +am not in the least afraid; and as for the children they are +so young they would soon grow accustomed to any thing.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> +Of course there would be no danger of our not being able +to have good plain food; and that is the only real necessity."</p> + +<p>"But you seem to forget, Sarah, about schools. How +are we to educate the children there?"</p> + +<p>"Teach them ourselves, Robert," replied Mrs. March +earnestly. "It will be better for them in every way. Such +an out-door life as they will lead there is ten times better +than all the schools in the world. Oh, Robert! if you can +only be well and strong, we shall be perfectly happy. I +am as eager to go as the children are."</p> + +<p>Mrs. March had been from the beginning in favor of +the move. In fact, except for her, Mr. March would never +have thought of it. He was a patient and quiet man, and +would have gone on bearing the suffering of his asthma +till he died, without thinking of the possibility of escaping +it by so great a change as the going to a new country to live. +It was well for him that he had a wife of a different nature. +Mrs. March had no patience with people who, as she said, +would "put up with any thing, rather than take trouble." +Mrs. March's way was never to "put up" with any thing +which was wrong, unless she had tried every possible way of +righting it. Then, when she was convinced that it couldn't +be righted, she would make the best of it, and not grumble +or be discontented. Which way do you think was the best?—Mr. +March's or Mrs. March's? I think Mrs. March's +was; and I think Rob and Nelly were very fortunate children +to have a mother who taught them such a good doctrine of +life. This is the way she would have put it, if she had been +going to write it out in rules.</p> + +<p>First. If you don't like a thing, try with all your might +to make it as you do like it.</p> + +<p>Second. If you can't possibly make it as you like it, stop +thinking about it: let it go.</p> + +<p>There was a very wise man, who lived hundreds and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> +hundreds of years ago, who said very much the same thing, +only in different words. I don't know whether Mrs. March +ever heard of him or not. His name was Epictetus, and he +was only a poor slave. But he said so many wise things +that men kept them and printed them in a book; and one +of the things he said was this:—</p> + +<p>"There are things which are within our power, and there +are things which are beyond our power. Seek at once to +be able to say to every unpleasing semblance: 'You are +but a semblance, and by no means the real thing.' And +then examine it by those rules which you have; and first and +chiefly by this: whether it concerns the things which are +within our own power, or those which are not; and if it +concerns any thing beyond our power, be prepared to say +that it is nothing to you."</p> + +<p>I think this would be a good rule for all of us to copy +and pin up on the door of our rooms, to read every morning +before we go downstairs. Some of the words sound a +little hard to understand at first: but after they are explained +to you they wouldn't seem so; and if we all lived up +to this rule, we should always be contented.</p> + +<p>Late in the evening, after the children had gone to bed, +as Mr. and Mrs. March sat talking over their plans, there +came a loud ring at the door-bell.</p> + +<p>"I think that is Deacon Plummer," said Mr. March. +"He said he would come in to-night and talk over Colorado. +He has been thinking for some time of going out there; and, +if we go, I think he will go too."</p> + +<p>"Will he, really?" exclaimed Mrs. March. "And Mrs. +Plummer? What a help that would be!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, it would be a great advantage," said Mr. March. +"He is the best farmer in all this region, and as honest +as the day is long; and, queer as he is, I like him, I believe, +better than any deacon I've ever had."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span></p> + +<p>"And he likes you too," said Mrs. March. "I believe if +he goes now, it will be only to go with you; or, at least, +partly for that. Mrs. Plummer's health, I suppose, is one +reason."</p> + +<p>"Yes, that is it," said Mr. March. "The doctors say +she must go to Florida next winter: she can't stand another +of our winters here; and Mr. Plummer says he'd rather +break up altogether and move to a new place, than be always +journeying back and forth."</p> + +<p>Just as Mr. March pronounced these words, the door +opened and Deacon and Mrs. Plummer appeared. They +were a very droll little couple: they were very short and +very thin and very wrinkled. Deacon Plummer had little +round black eyes, and Mrs. Plummer had little round blue +eyes. Deacon Plummer had thin black hair, which was +very stiff, and never would lie down flat, and Mrs. Plummer +had very thin white hair, which was as soft as a baby's, and +always clung as close to her head as if it had been glued +on. It was so thin that the skin of her head showed through, +pink, in many places; and, except for the little round knot +of hair at the back, you might have taken it for a baby's +head. Deacon Plummer always spoke very fast and very +loud, so loud that at first you jumped, and wondered if he +thought everybody was deaf. Mrs. Plummer always spoke +in a little fine squeaky voice, and had to stop to cough every +few minutes, so it took her a great while to say any thing. +Deacon Plummer very seldom smiled, and looked quite +fierce. Mrs. Plummer had a habit of smiling most of the +time, and looked so good-natured she looked almost silly. +She was not silly, however: she was sensible, and was one +of the best housekeepers and cooks in all Mayfield. She was +famous for making good crullers; and, whenever she came +to Mr. March's house, she always brought four crullers in +her pocket,—two for Rob and two for Nelly. As soon<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> +as she came into the room this night, she began fumbling +in her pocket, saying:—</p> + +<p>"Good evening, Mrs. March. How do you do, Mr. +March?" (cough, cough). "I've brought a cruller" +(cough, cough) "for the" (cough, cough) "children. +Dear me" (cough, cough), "they're crumbled up" (cough, +cough). "I got a leetle too much lard in 'em, jest a leetle, +and the leastest speck too much lard'll make 'em crumble +like any thing" (cough, cough); "but I reckon the crumbs'll +taste good" (cough, cough) "if they be crumbled" (cough, +cough); and, going to the table, she turned her pocket +wrong side out, and emptied upon a newspaper a large pile +of small bits of cruller. "Do you think they'll mind their +being" (cough, cough) "crumbled up?" (cough, cough) +"'twas only my spectacle case" (cough, cough) "did it," +she said, looking anxiously at the crumbs.</p> + +<p>"Call 'em crumblers! call 'em crumblers," said Deacon +Plummer, laughing hard at his own joke, and rubbing his +hands together before the fire; "tell the children they're a +new kind, called crumblers."</p> + +<p>"Oh! the children won't mind," said Mrs. March, +politely, and she brought a glass dish from the closet, and, +filling it with the crumbs, covered it with a red napkin, and +set it on the sideboard. "There," said she, "as soon as +Rob comes downstairs in the morning, he will peep into this +dish, and the first thing he will say will be, 'I know who's +been here: Mrs. Plummer's been here. I know her crullers.' +That's what he always says when he finds your +crullers on the sideboard."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Plummer's little blue eyes twinkled with pleasure, +so that the wrinkles around their corners all folded together +like the sticks of an umbrella shutting up.</p> + +<p>"Does he now, really?" she said. "The dear little +fellow! Children always does like crullers."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Crumblers; call 'em crumblers," shouted the Deacon. +"That's the best name for 'em anyhow."</p> + +<p>"Well, Parson," he said, "how's Colorado? Heard any +thing more? Me an' my wife's gettin' more'n more inter +the notion of goin', that is, ef you go. We shan't pick up +an' go off by ourselves; we're too old, an' we ain't used +enough to travellin': but ef you go, we go; that's about +fixed, ain't it, 'Lizy?" and he looked at his wife and then +at Mr. March and then at Mrs. March, with his queer little +quick, fierce glance, as if he had said something very warlike, +and everybody were going to contradict him at once.</p> + +<p>"Yes" (cough, cough), "I expect we'd better" (cough, +cough) "go 'long; 't seems kinder" (cough, cough) "providential +like our all goin'" (cough, cough) "together so. +Don't you think" (cough, cough) "so, Mrs. March? Be +ye sure" (cough, cough) "ye'd like to have us go?" +replied Mrs. Plummer.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, indeed!" said Mrs. March. "Mr. March was +just speaking of it when you came in how much he would +like to have Deacon Plummer go. Mr. March knows very +little about farming, though he was brought up on a farm, +and he will be very glad of Deacon Plummer's help; and I +shall be very glad to see two Mayfield faces there. I expect +to be lonely sometimes."</p> + +<p>"Lonely, ma'am, lonely!" spoke up the Deacon: "can't +be lonely, ma'am. Don't think of such a thing, ma'am, with +the youngsters, ma'am, and me an' my wife, ma'am, an' the +Parson. I'd like to see you have a lonesome minnit, +ma'am;" and the Deacon looked round on them all again +with his quick, fierce look.</p> + +<p>Mr. March laughed. "It seems to be shutting in all +round us, Sarah, to take us to Colorado: doesn't it?"</p> + +<p>"It isn't two hours," he continued, turning to Deacon +Plummer, "since the children left us to go to bed, with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> +their heads so full of Colorado and their desire to set out +for the country immediately, that I am afraid they haven't +shut their eyes yet. And as for Nelly, she's gone to bed +with a picture of Pike's Peak in her hand."</p> + +<p>"Picture! Have ye got pictures of the country round +about there?" interrupted the Deacon. "I'd like to see +'em, Parson; so'd Elizy. She was a wonderin' how 'twould +look in them parts. She hain't travelled none, Elizy hain't, +since she was a gal. I hain't never been much of a hand to +stir away from home, an' I donno now what's taken me so +sudden to go so far away; but I expect it's providential."</p> + +<p>Mr. March took the Colorado pictures out of the big +envelope again, and showed them to Deacon and Mrs. +Plummer. They were as interested in them as Rob and +Nelly had been, and it made Mrs. March laugh to think +how much the old man and his wife, bending over the pictures, +looked like Rob and Nelly suddenly changed from +ten years old to sixty. Mrs. Plummer did not say much. +Her spectacles were not quite strong enough for her eyes. +She had been for a whole year thinking of getting a new +pair, and she wished to-night she had done so, for she could +not see any thing in the stereoscope distinctly. But she saw +enough to fill her with wonder and delight, and make her +impatient to go to the country where there were such beautiful +sights to be seen. As for the Deacon, he could hardly +contain himself: in his excitement, he slapped Mr. March's +knee, and exclaimed:—</p> + +<p>"By golly,—beg your pardon, sir,—but this must be the +greatest country goin'. It'd pay to go jest to see it, ef we +didn't any more 'n look round 'n come right home again. +Don't you think so, Elizy?"</p> + +<p>The enthusiasm of these good old people, and the eager +wishes of the children produced a great impression on both +Mr. and Mrs. March. It did really seem as if every thing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> +showed that they ought to go; and, before Deacon and Mrs. +Plummer went home, it was about decided that the plan +should be carried out.</p> + +<p>Deacon Plummer was for starting immediately.</p> + +<p>"I'll jest turn the key in my house," he said, "'n start +right along; 'n you'd better do the same thing; we don't +want to be left without a roof to come back to ef things +turns out different from what we expect; ef we settle, we +kin come back 'n sell out afterwards; 'n the sooner we git +there the better, afore the heavy snows set in."</p> + +<p>"But they don't have heavy snows in Colorado, not in +the part where we are going," said Mr. March: "the cattle +run out in the open fields all winter."</p> + +<p>"You don't mean to tell me so!" exclaimed the Deacon. +"What a country to live in! I should think everybody'd +go into raisin' cattle afore anything else."</p> + +<p>"I think that is one of the best things to do there," +replied Mr. March. "I have already made up my mind to +that. And there is nothing I should enjoy more. And +between your farming and my herds of cattle, we ought to +make a good living. Deacon, come round in the morning +and we'll talk it over more, and see what time it's best to +start."</p> + +<p>At breakfast the next morning, Mr. March told Rob and +Nelly that it was decided that they would move out to +Colorado. The two children received the news very differently. +Nelly dropped her knife and fork, and looked steadily +in her father's face for a full minute: her cheeks grew red, +and she drew in a long breath, and said, "Oh! oh!" That +was all she said; but her face was radiant with happiness. +Rob bounded out of his chair, flew to his mother and gave +her a kiss, then to his father and gave him a great hug, and +then he gave a regular Indian war-whoop, as he ran back +to his seat.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Rob! Rob! you must not be so boisterous," exclaimed +his mother; but she was laughing as hard as she could laugh, +and Rob knew she was not really displeased with him.</p> + +<p>"Oh Nell, Nell!" cried Rob, "isn't it splendid? why +don't you say any thing?"</p> + +<p>"I can't," replied Nelly. But her cheeks were growing +redder and redder every minute, and her father saw that +tears were coming in her eyes.</p> + +<p>"Why, Nell," he said, "you are not sorry, are you? I +thought you wanted to go."</p> + +<p>"Oh, so I do, papa," exclaimed Nelly; "I want to go so +much that I can't believe it."</p> + +<p>Mr. March smiled. He understood Nelly better than her +mother did.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER III</h2> + +<h4>OFF FOR COLORADO</h4> + + +<p>It was finally decided that it would be best not to set out +for Colorado until the middle of March. There were many +things to be arranged and provided for, and Mr. March did +not wish to leave the people of his parish too suddenly. +Afterward he wished that he had gone away immediately, +as soon as his decision was made; for the ten weeks that he +waited were merely ten long weeks of good-bye. Everybody +loved him, and was sorry he was going; and there was +not a day that somebody did not come in to hear the whole +story over again, why he was going, when he was going, +where he was going, and all about it. At last Mrs. March +grew so tired of talking it all over and over, that she said +to people: "I really can't talk any more about it. We are +not going till the fifteenth of March, but I wish it were to-morrow." +After the first two or three weeks, Rob and +Nelly lost much of their interest in talking it over; two +months ahead seemed to them just as far off as two years; +and they did not more than half believe they would ever +really go. But when the packing began, all their old interest +and enthusiasm returned, and they could not keep quiet a +moment. Nelly's great anxiety was to decide whether she +would better carry Mrs. Napoleon in her arms all the way +or let her go in a trunk. She said to her mother that she +really thought Mrs. Napoleon would go safer in her arms +than anywhere else. "You see, mamma, I should never lay +her down a single minute, and how could any thing happen<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> +to her then? But in the trunk she would be shaken and +jolted all the time." The truth was, Nelly was very proud +of Mrs. Napoleon, and she secretly had thought to herself, +"I expect there'll be a great many little girls in the cars: in +four whole days, there must be; and they would all like to +see such a beautiful doll."</p> + +<p>Mrs. March understood this feeling in Nelly perfectly +well, and it amused her very much to see how Nelly was +trying to deceive herself about it.</p> + +<p>"But, Nelly," she said, "the cars will be full of cinders +and dust, and they will be sure to stick to the wax. Her +face would get dirty in a single day, and you can't wash it +as you do Pocahontas's. Don't you think you'd better +carry Pocahontas instead?"</p> + +<p>Pocahontas was Nelly's next best doll: she was the big +one I told you about; the one that was almost the size of a +real live baby; the one which was so big that it made Mrs. +March first think of using her father's great stockings to +hang up for Christmas stockings for the children.</p> + +<p>"Oh, mamma!" said Nelly: "Pocahontas is too heavy; +and I don't care half so much for her as for dear beautiful +Josephine. I shouldn't care very much if Pocahontas did +get broken, but if any thing were to happen to the Empress +it would be dreadful. Do let me carry her, mamma. I'll +make her a beautiful waterproof cloak just like mine; and +she can wear two veils just as you do on the water."</p> + +<p>"Very well, Nelly, you can do as you like," replied her +mother; "but I warn you that you will wish the doll out of +the way a great many times before we reach our journey's +end; and I am afraid her looks will be entirely spoiled."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, mamma!" replied Nelly, confidently. "You'll +see you haven't the least idea what good care I shall take +of her."</p> + +<p>At last the day came when the last box was shut and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> +nailed and corded, the last leather bag locked, the last bundle +rolled up and strapped; and Mr. and Mrs. March, and Rob +and Nelly, and little Deacon Plummer and his good little +wife, all stood on the doorsteps of the parsonage waiting +for the stage, which was to carry them ten miles to the railway +station where they were to take the cars. Mrs. Napoleon +really looked very pretty in her long waterproof cloak; +it was of bright blue lined with scarlet; and she wore a dark +blue hat with a little bit of scarlet feather in it, to match her +cloak; and she had a dark blue veil, two thicknesses of it, +pinned very tight over her face and hat; Nelly held her +hugged tight in her arms, and never put her down.</p> + +<p>"Oh, my! before I'd be bothered with a doll to carry," +exclaimed Rob, looking at Nelly,—"leave her behind. +Give her to Mary Pratt. You won't care for dolls out in +Colorado. I know you won't."</p> + +<p>Nelly gave Rob a look which would have melted the heart +of an older boy; but Rob was not to be melted.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you needn't look that way!" he said. "A doll's +a plague: I heard mamma tell you so too, so now, there," +he added triumphantly. Nelly walked away in silence, and +only hugged Mrs. Napoleon tighter, and Mr. March, who +had been watching the scene, said to his wife: "Look at +that motherly little thing. The doll's the same to her as a +baby to you."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Mrs. March, "but Rob's right after all. +It'll be a great bother having that wax doll along; but I +thought it was better to let Nelly see for herself. I dare +say she'll forget it, and leave it at the first place where we +change cars."</p> + +<p>"Not she," said Mr. March. "You don't know Nelly +half so well as I do, Sarah, if she is your own child. Nelly'd +carry that doll round the world and never lay it down."</p> + +<p>"We'll see," said Mrs. March, laughing. Mr. March<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> +was a little vexed at his wife for saying this; and he privately +resolved that he would keep an eye on Mrs. Napoleon +himself all through the journey, and see that she was not +left behind at any station.</p> + +<p>Four days and four nights in the cars, going, going, +going every minute, night and day, dark and light, asleep +and awake: nobody has any idea what such a journey is till +he takes it. Poor old Deacon Plummer and Mrs. Plummer +were so tired by the end of the second day that they looked +about ninety years old.</p> + +<p>"Deary me!" Mrs. Plummer said a dozen times a day. +"It's a great deal farther than I thought."</p> + +<p>"I told you, Elizy, it was four days and four nights," +the Deacon always replied; "but I suppose you didn't sense +it no more'n I did. Nobody couldn't believe the joltin' 'd +be so wearin'. I feel's if my bones was all jelly in my skin," +and the poor old man moved as if they were. He reeled +when he walked; and, at each lurch the cars gave, he would +catch hold of anything or anybody who happened to be near +him. If it were a person, he would apologize most humbly: +but if the car gave another lurch, even while he was apologizing, +he would catch hold again, just as hard as before, at +which the person would walk away quite offended; and very +soon everybody in the car tried to keep out of the old man's +way, they were so afraid of being violently laid hold of +by him.</p> + +<p>Rob and Nelly did not mind the jolting; did not mind +the lurches the cars gave; did not mind the cinders, the dust, +the noise. They were having the best time they ever had in +their lives. For the first two days of their journey, they +were in what is called "The drawing-room," in the sleeping-car. +I wonder if I could make those of you who have +never been in a sleeping-car understand about this little +room. I will try.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span></p> + +<p>Most of the sleeping-cars have merely shelves along the +sides in the place where the seats are in the ordinary day-cars: +curtains are hung in front of these shelves, and they +are parted off from each other like the shelves in a long +cupboard. In the daytime, these shelves are folded away +and fastened up against the walls, and seats left below them. +At night when people are ready to go to bed, the shelves are +let down, and the curtains put up in front of them, and each +person climbs up on his shelf, and undresses behind the curtain, +and goes to bed. I forgot to say that a very good +little bed is made up on each shelf. A man who has the +care of the car, and who is called the porter, makes these +beds. This is the way it is in nearly all the sleeping-cars. +But there are some cars which have, besides these, a nice +little room walled off at one end. It has seats for two +people on each side; and these seats are made into comfortable +beds at night. It has two windows which open on +the outside of the car, and two which open on the narrow +aisle of the car; these four windows are all your own, if +you have hired the whole little room for yourself. You can +have them either open or shut, just as you like, and nobody +else has any right to say any thing about it, which is a great +comfort; in the ordinary car, you know there is always +somebody just behind you or just before you who is either +too hot or too cold, and wants the windows shut when you +want them open, or open when you want them shut. This +little room has a door at each end of it. One opens into the +car where the rest of the people are sitting. The other +opens into a nice little closet where there is a washbowl and +water, and you can take a bath comfortably. At night the +porter comes and hangs up curtains across these doors, +because they have glass in the tops of them; then he draws +the curtains at your windows; then he lights a lamp which +hangs in the middle of the ceiling in your room: and there<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> +you are shut up in as cunning a little bedroom as you would +ever want to see; and almost as snug and private as you +could be in your own bedroom. You can undress and go to +bed comfortably; and, unless the jolting of the car keeps +you awake, you can sleep all night as soundly as you would +at home.</p> + +<p>Rob and Nelly were delighted with this little room. So +was Mrs. March. She hung up their cloaks and hats on the +hooks, and took out their books and papers, and made the +little room look like home. Nelly propped Mrs. Napoleon +up in one corner of one of the red velvet arm-chairs, and +took off her blue veils, for there seemed to be no dust at all.</p> + +<p>"I wish I'd brought Pocahontas too," said Nelly: "there +is so much room, and dolls do look so nice travelling like +other people."</p> + +<p>"People!" laughed Rob. "Dolls ain't people."</p> + +<p>"They are too," said Nelly. "People are men and +women, and there are boy dolls and girl dolls and women +dolls and men dolls."</p> + +<p>"Mamma, are dolls people?" asked Rob, vehemently. +"Nell says they are, and I say they ain't. They ain't: are +they?"</p> + +<p>"Not live people," said Mrs. March: "Nell didn't mean +that."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no!" said Nelly; "but they're play people, and you +can't be sure they don't know any thing just because they +don't speak. I could go a whole year without speaking if +I tried to."</p> + +<p>"I believe you could," laughed Mrs. March; "but Rob +couldn't."</p> + +<p>"Not I," said Rob. "What's the use? I like to talk. +Nell's a dumb-cat: that's what she is."</p> + +<p>"I can talk if I've a mind to," retorted Nelly; "but I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> +don't want to; that is, not very often: I don't see the use +in it."</p> + +<p>This is the way it always was with Rob and Nelly. +Dearly as they loved each other, they never thought alike +about any thing: but for that very reason they did each +other good; much more than if they had been just alike.</p> + +<p>When it was time for breakfast or for dinner, the black +porter, whose name was Charley, brought in a little square +table and set it up as firm as he could between the seats. +Then Mr. March lifted up the big luncheon-basket on one +of the chairs, and Mrs. March took out her spirit-lamp, and +they had great fun cooking. There was a saucepan which +fitted over the spirit-lamp, and the flame of the spirit-lamp +was so large that water boiled in this saucepan in a very few +minutes. Mrs. March could make tea or chocolate or coffee: +she could boil eggs, or warm up beef soup; then, after they +had eaten all they wanted, they heated more water in the +same saucepan and washed their dishes in it. At first, this +seemed dreadful to Nelly, who was a very neat little girl.</p> + +<p>"Oh, mamma," she said, "how horrid to cook in the +same pan you wash dishes in!" But Mrs. March laughed +at her, and told her that when people were travelling they +could not afford to be so particular.</p> + +<p>It was only for the first two days and nights of their +journey that they had this comfortable little room. On +the morning of the third day they reached Kansas City, and +there they had to change cars. They sat in a large and +crowded waiting-room, while Mr. March went to see about +the tickets. Nelly and Rob looked with great astonishment +on every thing they saw. They seemed already to have +come into a new world. The people looked strange, and a +great many of them were speaking German. There were +whole families—father, mother, and perhaps half-a-dozen +little children—sitting on the railway platforms, on big<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> +chests, which were tied up with strong ropes. They had +great feather-beds, too, tied in bundles and bulging out all +round the ropes. Their faces were very red, and their +clothes were old and patched: if Nelly had met them in the +lanes of Mayfield, she would have taken them for beggars; +but here they were travelling just like herself, going the +same way too, for she watched several of them getting into +the same train. Then there were groups of men in leather +clothes, with their boots reaching up to their knees, and +powder-horns slung across their shoulders. They all carried +rifles: some of them had two or three; and one of them, +as he stepped on the platform, threw down a dead deer; +another carried a splendid pair of antlers. Nelly took hold +of Rob's hand and walked very cautiously nearer the dead +deer.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Rob!" she said, "it's a real deer. There is a picture +of one in my Geography with just such horns as these."</p> + +<p>Nelly was carrying Mrs. Napoleon hugged up very tight +in her arms; but she had not observed that, in the jostling +of the crowd, Mrs. Napoleon had somehow turned her head +round as if she were looking backward over Nelly's +shoulder. Neither had she observed that two little girls +were following closely behind her, jabbering German as +fast as they could, and pointing to the doll. Presently, she +felt her gown pulled gently. She turned round, and there +were the two little girls, both with outstretched hands, +talking as fast as magpies, and much more unintelligibly. +Each of them took hold of Nelly's gown again, and made +signs to her that she should let them take the doll. They +looked so eager that it seemed as if they would snatch the +doll out of her hands: the words they spoke sounded so +thick and strange that it half frightened Nelly. "Oh, dear +me, Rob!" she exclaimed; "do tell them to go away. Go<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> +away, good little girls, go away!" she said, pleadingly. +"I can't let you take her."</p> + +<p>"Clear out!" said Rob, roughly, taking hold of one of +them by the shoulder and giving her a shove. No sooner +had the words passed his lips than he felt himself lifted by +the nape of his neck as if he had been a little puppy: he was +in the hand's of a great red-faced German, who looked like +a scarlet giant to poor Rob, as he gazed up in his face. +This was the father of the two little girls; he had seen the +shove that Rob gave his little Wilhelmina, and he was in a +great rage; he shook Rob back and forth, and cuffed his +ears, all the time talking very loud in German. All he said +was:—</p> + +<p>"You are a good-for-nothing: I will teach you manners, +that you do not push little girls who are doing you no +harm;" but it sounded in the German language like something +very dreadful.</p> + +<p>Poor Nelly clung to him with one hand, and tried to stop +his beating Rob.</p> + +<p>"Oh, please don't whip my brother, sir!" she cried. +"He did not mean to hurt the little girl. She was going +to snatch my doll away from me."</p> + +<p>But the angry German shook Nelly off as if she had been +a little fly that lighted on his arm. Rob did not cry out, +nor speak a word. He was horribly frightened, but he +was too angry to cry. He said afterwards:—</p> + +<p>"I thought he was going to kill me; but I just made up +my mind I wouldn't speak a single word if he did."</p> + +<p>All this that I have been telling you didn't take much +more than a minute; but it seemed to poor Nelly a thousand +years. She was crying, and the little German girls were +crying too: they did not mean to do any harm, and they did +not want the little boy whipped. Some rough men and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> +women who were looking on began to laugh, and one man +called out:—</p> + +<p>"Go it, Dutchy, go it!"</p> + +<p>Mr. March, who was just walking up the platform, heard +the noise; and, when he looked up to see what it meant, +what should he see but his own Rob held away up in the +air, in the powerful grip of this tall man, and being soundly +cuffed about the ears. Mr. March sprang forward, and, +taking hold of Rob with one hand, caught the angry man's +uplifted arm in the other.</p> + +<p>"Stop, sir," he said; "this is my little boy. What has +he done? Leave him to me. What has he done?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing, papa," called poor Rob, the tears coming into +his eyes at the sight of a protector; "nothing except push +that ugly little yellow-haired girl: I guess she is his; she +was going to snatch Nell's doll."</p> + +<p>The German set Rob down; and, turning towards Mr. +March, began to pour out a torrent of words. Luckily, Mr. +March understood most of what he said, and could speak +to him in his own language. So he explained to him that +his little daughters had tried to take Nelly's doll away from +her, and that Rob had only intended to protect his sister, as +was quite right and proper he should do. As soon as the +man understood this, he turned at once to his little girls +who stood by crying, and asked them a short question in +German.</p> + +<p>They sobbed out, "ja, ja" (that means "yes, yes"). +In less than a minute he caught up first the elder one, just +as he had caught up Rob, and boxed her ears; then the +smaller one, and cuffed her also; and set them both down on +the ground, as if he were used to swinging children up in +the air and boxing their ears every day. Then he turned +to Rob, and taking him by the hand, said to Mr. March,—</p> + +<p>"Explain to your little boy that I ask his pardon. He<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> +was doing the right thing: he is a gentleman; and I ask +that he accept this horn from me and from my very bad +little girls."</p> + +<p>So saying, he took out of a great wallet that hung across +his back a beautiful little powder horn. It was a horn of +the chamois, the beautiful wild deer that lives in the mountains +in Switzerland. It was as black as ebony, and had a +fine pattern cut on it, like a border round the top; then it had +a scarlet cord and silver buckles, to fasten it across the +shoulders. Rob's eyes glistened with delight as he stretched +out his hand for it.</p> + +<p>"Oh, thank you, thank you!" he said. "Oh, papa! +please thank him, and tell him I don't mind the whipping a +bit now. And," he added, "please tell him, too, that I +didn't mean to shove his little girl hard, only just to keep +her off Nell."</p> + +<p>Mr. March interpreted Rob's speech to the German, who +nodded pleasantly and walked off, leading his two little +sobbing children by the hand. He was so tall that the little +girls looked like little elves by his side, and he looked like +the picture of the Giant with his seven-league boots on. +When Rob turned to show his beautiful powder horn to +Nelly, she was nowhere to be seen.</p> + +<p>"Why, where is Nell, papa?" he exclaimed.</p> + +<p>Mr. March looked around anxiously, but could see nothing +of her. They hurried back into the waiting-room, and +there to their great relief they saw Nelly sitting by her +mother's side. Rob rushed up to her, holding up his powder +horn, and exclaiming,—</p> + +<p>"Why, Nell, what made you come away? That old +thrasher was a splendid fellow: see what he gave me, as +soon as papa made him understand; and he cuffed those +girls well, I tell you,—most as hard as he did me. Why,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> +Nell, what's the matter?" Rob suddenly observed that +Nelly was crying.</p> + +<p>"Don't talk to Nelly just now," said Mrs. March: "she +is in trouble." And she put her arm round Nelly tenderly.</p> + +<p>"But what is it, mamma?" exclaimed Rob; "tell me. +Is she hurt?"</p> + +<p>"What is it, Sarah?" said Mr. March. By this time +Nelly was sobbing hard, and her head was buried on her +mother's shoulder. Mrs. March pointed to Nelly's lap: +there lay a shapeless and dirty little bundle, which Nelly +held grasped feebly in one hand. It was the remains of +Mrs. Napoleon. The blue waterproof was all torn and +grimed with dirt; a broken wax arm hung out at one side; +and when Rob cautiously lifted a fold of the waterproof, +there came into view a shocking sight: poor Mrs. Napoleon's +face, or rather what had been her face, without a +single feature to be seen in it,—just a round ball of dirty, +crumbling wax, with the pretty yellow curls all matted in +it. Mr. March could not help smiling at the sight; luckily, +Nelly did not see him.</p> + +<p>"Why, how did that happen?" he said.</p> + +<p>"What a shame!" exclaimed Rob. "Say, Nell, you +shall have my powder horn;" and he thrust it into her +hand. Nelly shook her head and pushed it away, but did +not speak. Her heart was too full.</p> + +<p>Then Mrs. March told them in a low tone how it had +happened. When Nelly caught hold of the German's arm, +trying to stop his beating Rob, she had forgotten all about +Mrs. Napoleon, and let her fall to the ground. Nobody saw +her, and, in the general scuffle, the doll had been trampled +under foot. Really, if one had not been so sorry for Nelly, +one could not help laughing at the spectacle. The scarlet +feather and the bright blue cloak, and the golden curls, and +the dark blue veils, and the red and white wax, all mixed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> +up together so that you would have hardly known that it +was a doll at all,—except that one blue eye was left whole, +with a little bit of the red cheek under it. This made the +whole wreck look still worse.</p> + +<p>"Our first railroad accident," said Mrs. March, laughingly. +Nelly sobbed harder than ever.</p> + +<p>"Hush," said Mr. March, in a low tone to his wife. +"Don't make light of it."</p> + +<p>"Nelly, dear," he said, taking hold of the doll gently, +"shall not papa throw the poor dolly away? You don't +want to look at her any more."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, no!" said Nelly, lifting up the bundle, and +hugging it tighter.</p> + +<p>"Very well, dear," replied her father, "you shall keep +it as long as you like. But let me pin poor dolly up tight, +so that nobody can see how she is hurt."</p> + +<p>Nelly gave the doll up without a word, and her kind papa +rolled the little waterproof cloak tight round the body and +arms; then he doubled up the blue veil and pinned it many +thicknesses thick all round the head; and then he took a clean +dark-blue and white silk handkerchief of his own and put +outside all the veil, and made it into a snug little parcel, that +nobody would have known was a dolly at all.</p> + +<p>"There, Nelly," he said, putting it in her lap, "there is +dolly, all rolled up, so that nobody can look at her."</p> + +<p>Nelly took the sad little bundle, and laid it across her +knees.</p> + +<p>"Can she ever be mended, papa?" she said.</p> + +<p>"No, dear, I think not," said Mr. March; "I think the +sooner you put her out of your sight the better; but now we +must go into the cars."</p> + +<p>Poor Nelly! she walked slowly along, carrying the blue +and white package as if it were a coffin,—as indeed it was, +a kind of coffin, for a very dead dolly.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span></p> + +<p>As they were going into the car, Mr. March said to his +wife:—</p> + +<p>"There is no drawing-room in the sleeping-car which +goes through to-day. I have had to take two sections."</p> + +<p>Mrs. March had never travelled in a sleeping-car before, +and she did not know how much nicer the little room was +than the "sections." So she replied: "They'll do just as +well, won't they?"</p> + +<p>"I think you will not like them quite so well," replied +Mr. March; "you cannot be by yourself with the children. +But it is only for one night; we will make the best of it. +There are our sections, one right opposite the other; so you +will not have strangers opposite you."</p> + +<p>They put their lunch-basket and bags and bundles down +on the floor, and sat down on the two sofas, facing each +other. Nelly put her blue and white parcel in one corner +of the sofa, lay down with her head on it, and was soon +fast asleep. There were tears on her cheeks.</p> + +<p>"Poor child!" said Mr. March; "this is her first real +grief."</p> + +<p>"I'm glad I ain't a girl," said Rob, bluntly; "I don't +believe in dolls, do you, papa?"</p> + +<p>Mr. March answered Rob's question by another.</p> + +<p>"Do you believe in babies, Rob?"</p> + +<p>"Why, of course, papa! What a funny question! I +think babies are real nice. They're alive, you know."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said his father; "but dolls are just the same to +little girls that babies are to grown-up women. Nelly felt +just like a mother to Mrs. Napoleon. She was a very good +little mother too."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Mrs. March; "she was. I am very sorry +for her."</p> + +<p>"I'm real glad Deacon Plummer and Mrs. Plummer +weren't here," said Rob.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Why, why, Rob?" said his mother.</p> + +<p>(Deacon and Mrs. Plummer had left the train at Quincy +to spend a week with a son of theirs who lived there. They +were to join the Marches later, in Denver.)</p> + +<p>"Oh, because she'd have said: 'This is—cough—cough—providential.' +What does providential mean, anyhow, +papa? You never say it. Does it make you cough +and sneeze? Mrs. Plummer is always saying it about every +thing."</p> + +<p>Mr. and Mrs. March laughed so hard at this they could +not speak for some minutes. Then Mr. March said:—</p> + +<p>"You must not speak so, Rob;" but, before he had +finished his sentence, he had to stop again, and laugh harder +than before. "Deacon and Mrs. Plummer are going to be +the greatest help to us, and they are as good and kind as +they can be."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I like her crullers first-rate," said Rob. "What +does providential mean, papa?"</p> + +<p>Mr. March looked puzzled.</p> + +<p>"I hardly know how to tell you, Rob. Mrs. Plummer +means by it that God made the thing happen, whatever it is +that she is speaking of, on purpose for her accommodation: +that is one way of using the word. I do not believe that +doctrine: so I never use the word, because it would be +understood to mean something I don't believe in."</p> + +<p>"I should think God'd be too busy," said Rob, as if he +were thinking very hard; "he couldn't remember everybody, +could he?"</p> + +<p>"Not in that way, I think," said Mr. March; "but in +another way I think it is true that he never forgets anybody. +It is something like my garden, Rob. You know +I've got parsnips, and carrots, and beets, and potatoes,—oh! +a dozen of things, all growing together. Now I never +forget my garden. I know when it is time to have the corn<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> +hoed; and I know, when there hasn't been any rain for a +long time, that I must water it. But I don't think about +each particular carrot or parsnip in the bed: I could hardly +count them if I tried. Yet I mean to take very good care +of my garden, and never let them suffer for any thing; and +if any one of my vegetables were to be thirsty, if it could +speak, it ought to ask me to give it some water."</p> + +<p>I am afraid Rob did not listen attentively to this long +explanation. He never thought of any one thing very long, +as you know. And he was busy now watching all the people +pour into the car. There was a little girl, only about Nelly's +age, who had to be carried on a little mattress. She could +not walk. Something was the matter with her spine. Her +father and mother were with her. And there was a lady +with a sweet face, who was too ill to sit up at all. The +sofas in her "section" were made up into a bed as soon as +she came in; she had a doctor and a nurse with her.</p> + +<p>Then there were several couples, who had two or three +children with them; and one poor lady who was travelling +all alone with five children, and the largest only twelve +years old; and there were some Englishmen with guns and +fishing-rods and spy-glasses and almost every thing you +could think of that could be cased in leather and carried on +a journey,—one of them even had a bath-tub, a big, round +bath-tub, in addition to every thing else. He had a man-servant +with him who carried all these things, or else he +never could have got on at all. The man's name was Felix. +That is a Latin word which means "happy," but I don't +think this poor fellow was happy at all. He was a Frenchman. +I don't know how he came to be an Englishman's +servant, but I suppose the Englishman had lived a great +while in France, and had found him there. Felix's master +always talked French with him; so Felix had not learned +much English, and it would have made you laugh to see<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> +him clap his hand to his head when anybody said any thing +he could not understand. He would pound his head as if +he could drive the meaning in that way; and then he would +pull his thin hair; and then sometimes he would turn round +and round as fast as a top two or three times. When he +came into the cars loaded down with the guns and the rods +and the bundles and the bath-tub, his master would tell him +to put them down in the corner; then the porter would come +along and say:—</p> + +<p>"Look here! you can't have all these things in here," and +then Felix would say:—</p> + +<p>"Vat dat you say, sare?"</p> + +<p>Then the porter would repeat it; and Felix would say +again:—</p> + +<p>"Vat dat you say, sare?"</p> + +<p>And then the porter would get angry, and pick up some +of the things, and lay them on Felix's back, and tell him to +carry them off; and there Felix would stand stock-still, with +the things on his back, till his master appeared. Then he +would pour out all his story of his troubles in French, and +the Englishman would be very angry with the porter, and +say that he would have his things where he pleased; and +the porter would say he should not. He must put them +under his berth or in the baggage car; and poor Felix would +stand all the while looking first in the porter's face and then +in his master's, just like a dog that is waiting for his master +to tell him which way to run for a thing. Great drops of +perspiration would stand on his forehead, and his face +would be as red as if it were August: he was so worried +and confused. Poor Felix! he was one of the drollest sights +in the whole journey.</p> + +<p>The people kept pouring in.</p> + +<p>"Mamma, where are they all to sleep?" whispered Rob.</p> + +<p>"I'm sure I don't know, Rob," she answered.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span></p> + +<p>At last the train moved off, and the different families +arranged themselves in their own sections, and it seemed +a little less crowded. But there were not seats enough for +all the children, and some of them were obliged to sit on +the floor in the middle of the aisle. The lady who had five +children had only engaged one berth: that is half of a +section.</p> + +<p>"How do you expect to manage about sleeping?" said +Mrs. March to her.</p> + +<p>"Oh, that's easy enough," said she. "We've slept so +all the way from New York. I put the three little ones +crosswise at the foot, and the two others lie 'longside of me."</p> + +<p>Mrs. March did not reply to this; but she thought to herself, +"I'd like to see those babies after they are all packed +away for the night."</p> + +<p>At noon the train stopped for the passengers to take their +dinner at a little station. More than half the people in the +car went out. Then the porter—the new porter's name +was Ben—brought in little tables and put them up between +the seats for the people who had their own lunch-baskets +and did not want to go out to dinner. In the next section +to the Marches were a man and his wife with three children. +They had a big coffee-pot full of coffee, and one tin cup to +drink it from. They had loaves of brown bread, a big +cheese, and a bunch of onions. As soon as they opened their +basket, the smell of the onions and the cheese filled the car.</p> + +<p>"Ugh!" said Rob; "where does this horrible smell +come from?"</p> + +<p>Luckily the people who owned the cheese and the onions +did not hear him, and before he had time to say any more, +his mother whispered to him to be quiet; but Rob's face +was one of such disgust, that nobody could have looked at +him without seeing that he was very uncomfortable. Mrs. +March felt as uncomfortable as Rob did: but she knew that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> +those people had just the same right to have cheese and +onions on their table that she had to have chocolate and +orange marmalade on hers; so she opened one of the windows +wide to let in fresh air, and went on with her dinner. +As soon as the spirit-lamp began to burn, the children in +the next section exclaimed aloud: "Oh, what is that? what +is that?" They had never seen any thing of the kind before. +The two eldest, who were boys, jumped down from their +seat, each carrying a big piece of bread and of cheese, and +came crowding around Mrs. March to look at the lamp. +Mrs. March was a very gentle and polite woman, but she +could not help being vexed at these ill-mannered children.</p> + +<p>"Go away, little boys," she said: "I am very busy now. +I am afraid you will upset the lamp, and get burned."</p> + +<p>Then she looked at the father and mother, hoping they +would call their children back. But they took no notice of +them: they went on eating their bread and cheese and +onions; and, at every fresh onion they sliced, a fresh whiff +of the strong, disagreeable odor went through the car. Mr. +March had been out to the eating-house, to get some milk. +Mrs. March had brought a big square glass bottle, which +held three pints; and, whenever they stopped at an eating-house, +Mr. March bought fresh milk to fill it, and this was +a great addition to their bill of fare. He came into the car +at this moment, bringing the milk bottle, and as soon as he +opened the car door, he exclaimed, as Rob had done:—</p> + +<p>"Ugh!" but in a second more he saw what had made +the odor, and he said no more. As he handed the milk to +his wife, she said in a low tone:—</p> + +<p>"Could we go anywhere else to eat our dinner, Robert?"</p> + +<p>Mr. March looked all around the car and shook his head.</p> + +<p>"No," he said; "every seat is taken, and at any moment +the people may come back. It is nearly time now for the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> +train to start. We will make a hasty meal; perhaps we can +do better at night."</p> + +<p>Rob and Nelly were very quiet. They did not like the +two strange boys who stood close to their seat staring at +them, and at every thing which was on the table. Rob +whispered to Nelly:—</p> + +<p>"'Tain't half so nice as it was in the little room: is it, +Nell?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Nelly.</p> + +<p>"Shouldn't you think they'd be ashamed to stare so?" +continued Rob, making a gesture over his shoulder towards +their uninvited guests.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Nelly. "It's real rude."</p> + +<p>Still the boys stood immovable at Mrs. March's knee. +At last one of them lifted his head, and, saying "What +keeps that thing on there?" pointed to the saucepan standing +on the little tripod of the lamp. Just at that moment, +his brother accidentally hit his arm and made his hand go +farther than he meant: it hit the saucepan and knocked it +over; down went the spirit-lamp, all the alcohol ran out and +took fire, and for a few minutes there was a great hubbub +I assure you. Mr. March seized their heavy woollen lap-robe, +and threw it on the floor above the burning alcohol, +and stamped out the flames; and nobody was burned. But +the nice chocolate was all lost; it went running down a +little muddy stream, way out to the door; and the tumbler +which had the butter in it fell to the floor and was broken; +and the nice slices of white bread which Mrs. March had +just cut were all soaked in alcohol and spoiled; and altogether +it was a wretched mess, and all because two little +boys had not been taught how to behave properly. They +ran off as hard as they could go, you may be sure, back into +their own seat, as soon as the mischief was done; and, if +you will believe it, their father and mother never even looked<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> +round or took notice of all the confusion that was going on. +They sat and munched their onions and brown bread and +cheese as if they were in their own house all alone. One +sees very queer and disagreeable people in travelling. By +the time Mr. and Mrs. March had put out the fire, and +picked up all the things and wiped up the chocolate as well +as they could with a newspaper, the people who had gone +out to get their dinners, all came pouring back, and the cars +began to move.</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear me!" said Mrs. March: "we shall have to go +without our lunch now till tea-time. Here, children, just +drink this milk, and eat a piece of bread, and at tea-time, +perhaps, we'll have better luck."</p> + +<p>"I don't care," said Rob; "I ain't hungry a bit: it's all +so horrid in here."</p> + +<p>"Neither am I," said Nelly. "Can't we have a little +room all to ourselves to-morrow, papa?"</p> + +<p>"No, Nell," said her father: "no more little room for +us on this journey; this car goes through to Denver. We +can't change. But it is only one night and one day: we can +stand it."</p> + +<p>"I'm glad part of it is night," said Nelly; "we'll be by +ourselves when we're in bed."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Mrs. March. "You are to sleep with me, +and Rob with papa; and we'll be all shut in behind the +curtains. I think that will be quite comfortable."</p> + +<p>When the train stopped for the passengers to take supper, +Mr. and Mrs. March decided that they would go out too, +and not try any more experiments with the spirit-lamp while +they had such dangerous and disagreeable companions in +the next seat.</p> + +<p>Nelly and Rob clung to their father's hand as they +entered the eating-room. There were four long tables, all +filled with people eating as fast as they could eat. Nearly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> +all the men had their hats on their heads, and the noise of +the knives and forks sounded like the clatter of machinery. +The train was to stop only twenty minutes, and everybody +was trying to eat all he could in so short a time. Mr. and +Mrs. March, being very gentle and quiet people, did not +hurry the waiters as the other people did; and so it happened +that their supper was not brought to them for some +time. Nelly had eaten only a few mouthfuls of her bread +and milk when there was a general rush from all the tables, +and the room was emptied in a minute. The conductor of +the train was sitting at the table with the Marches, and he +said kindly to them:—</p> + +<p>"Don't hurry; there is plenty of time; five minutes yet."</p> + +<p>"Five minutes!" said Rob, scornfully: "I couldn't take +five mouthfuls in five minutes. I'm going to carry mine +into the cars." And he began spreading bread and butter.</p> + +<p>"A good idea, Rob," said his mother. And she did the +same thing; and, as the conductor called "All aboard!" the +March family entered the car, each carrying two slices of +bread and butter.</p> + +<p>"Not much better luck with our supper than with our +dinner, Sarah," said Mr. March; "I think you'll have to +open your lunch-basket, after all."</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't ask me to!" said Mrs. March. "The children +have had a good drink of milk. We can get along till +morning. I would rather go hungry than take out the things +with all those people looking on. We can go to bed early: +that will be a comfort."</p> + +<p>Mistaken Mrs. March! They sat on the steps of the cars +for half an hour to watch the sunset. The brakeman had +found out that Mr. March was so careful and Nelly and +Rob were such good children that he let them sit there as +often as they liked. Nelly loved dearly to sit between her +father's knees on the upper step and look down at the ground<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> +as it seemed to fly away so swiftly under the wheels. Sometimes +they went so fast that the ground did not look like +ground at all. It looked like a smooth, striped sheet of +brown and green paper being drawn swiftly under the car +wheels. It seemed to Rob and Nelly as if they must be +going out over the edge of the world. All they could see +was sky and ground.</p> + +<p>"This is the way it looks when you are out in the middle +of the ocean, Nell," said her father; "just the great round +sky over your head, and the great flat sea underneath: only +the sea is never still as the ground is; that is the only +difference."</p> + +<p>"Still!" cried Rob. "You don't call this ground under +us still, do you? It's going as fast as lightning all the +time."</p> + +<p>"No, Rob! it is we who are going; the ground is still," +said his mother; "but it does look just as if the ground +were flying one way and we the other. It makes me almost +dizzy to look down."</p> + +<p>Pretty soon the moon came up in the east. It was almost +full, and, as it came up slowly in sight, it looked like a +great circle of fire. Rob and Nelly both cried out, when +they first saw it:—</p> + +<p>"Oh, mamma! oh, papa! see that fire!"</p> + +<p>In a very few minutes it was up in full sight, and then +they saw what it was.</p> + +<p>"Dear me! only the moon, after all," said Rob; "I hoped +it was a big fire."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER IV</h2> + +<h4>A NIGHT IN A SLEEPING-CAR</h4> + + +<p>The moonlight was so beautiful that Mrs. March did not +like to go back into the car; and Rob and Nelly begged so +hard to sit up, that she let them stay long past their bedtime. +At last she exclaimed:—</p> + +<p>"Come, come! this won't do! We must go to bed," and +she opened the car door. As soon as she looked in she +started back, so that she nearly knocked Mr. March and +Nelly off the platform.</p> + +<p>"Why, what has happened?" she said.</p> + +<p>Mr. March laughed.</p> + +<p>"Oh, nothing," he said: "this is the way a sleeping-car +always looks at night."</p> + +<p>Curtains were let down on each side the aisle its whole +length. It was very dark, and the aisle looked very narrow. +Not a human being was in sight.</p> + +<p>"Where are our sections?" said Mrs. March.</p> + +<p>"These are ours, I think," said Mr. March, pulling open +a curtain on the left.</p> + +<p>"Let my curtain alone," called somebody from inside, +"Go away."</p> + +<p>Mr. March had opened the wrong curtain.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I beg your pardon, madam," he said, much mortified +that he should have broken open a lady's bedroom.</p> + +<p>Mrs. March and Rob and Nelly stood close together in +the middle of the aisle, at their wits' end. They did not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> +dare to open another curtain, for fear it should be somebody's +else bedroom, and not their own.</p> + +<p>"I'll call Ben," said Mr. March; "he'll know."</p> + +<p>But Ben was nowhere to be found. At last they found +him sound asleep in a little state-room at the end of the +car.</p> + +<p>"Ben, come show us which are our sections," said Mr. +March.</p> + +<p>Ben was very sleepy. He came stumbling down the aisle, +rubbing his eyes.</p> + +<p>"Reckon there is your berths; I made 'em up all ready +for you," said Ben, and pulled open the very curtain Mr. +March had opened before.</p> + +<p>"Oh! don't open that one; there's a lady in there," cried +Mrs. March; but she was too late. Ben had thrown the +curtains wide open.</p> + +<p>The same angry voice as before called out:—</p> + +<p>"I wish you'd let my curtain alone. What are you +about?"</p> + +<p>"Done made a mistake this time, sure," said Ben, composedly +drawing the curtains together again; but not before +Mrs. March and Nelly and Rob had had time to see into +the bed, and had seen that it held the mother with five +children. There they all lay as snug as you please: the +three little ones packed like herrings in a box, across the +foot of the bed, and the two others on the inside; and the +mother lying on the outer edge almost in the aisle. As +Ben pushed back the curtains, she muttered:—</p> + +<p>"There ain't any room to spare in this berth, if that's +what you're looking for."</p> + +<p>Rob and Nelly gave a smothered laugh at this.</p> + +<p>"Hush, children!" whispered Mrs. March. "You +wouldn't like to be laughed at."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, mamma, it's so funny!" said Rob. "We can't +help it."</p> + +<p>Mrs. March did not think it funny at all. She began +to be in despair about the night.</p> + +<p>The very next section to the one with the five children +was one of Mr. March's, and luckily those were the next +curtains Ben opened.</p> + +<p>"Here you are! you're all right!" he said, cheerfully. +"Here's all your things: I done piled 'em up first-rate +for you."</p> + +<p>Piled up they were indeed. The lunch-basket, the strapped +bundle of blankets, the overcoats, the water-proofs, the +leather bags, all one above the other on one bed.</p> + +<p>"Where are we to sleep, mamma?" exclaimed Nelly.</p> + +<p>"On top," said Rob. "Hurrah! hurrah!" and he was +about to jump on the top of the pile.</p> + +<p>"Be quiet, Rob," said his father: "we must go to bed +as quietly as we can, and not wake people up. We ought +to have come earlier. Almost everybody is asleep, I think."</p> + +<p>At this point, rose two great snores, so close that Mrs. +March started.</p> + +<p>"Mercy!" she exclaimed. "How that frightened me!"</p> + +<p>Snore! snore! snore! The sounds came as regularly as +the striking of a clock: they were most uncommonly loud +snores. Mr. March looked at his wife and smiled. Mrs. +March did not smile in return: she did not like this state +of things at all.</p> + +<p>At last they had sorted out the things they needed, and +the rest of the things they pushed under their berths,—all +but the big lunch-basket: Mr. March had to carry that +out to the end of the car, and set it by the stove. Then Mr. +March and Rob climbed into their bed, and shut the curtains; +and Mrs. March and Nelly climbed into theirs, and shut<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> +their curtains, and began to undress. Presently, Mr. March +called across in a whisper:—</p> + +<p>"Wife, what shall I do with Rob's clothes?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. March was at that moment trying to find some place +to put Nelly's and hers.</p> + +<p>"I'm sure I don't know," she replied. "There isn't a +sign of a hook here to hang any thing on."</p> + +<p>"Nor here," replied Mr. March: "I'll leave them all in +a pile on the foot of the bed."</p> + +<p>"That'll do very well for a man's clothes," thought Mrs. +March; "but I must hang up our gowns and skirts." At +last, she had a bright thought. She stood up on the edge +of the bed, and hooked the skirts over the rod the curtains +were swung from. It was all she could do to reach it; and, +just as she was hooking the last skirt on, the car gave a +lurch, and out she fell, out into the aisle, and across it, +through the curtains of Mr. March's berth, right on to his +bed.</p> + +<p>"Goodness alive, Sarah! is this you?" he exclaimed, +jumping up, frightened. He was just falling asleep.</p> + +<p>"Well, I believe so," she said: "I'm not sure."</p> + +<p>"Oh, mamma, did it hurt you?" called Nelly, anxiously.</p> + +<p>"No, no, dear," replied her mother. "I'm coming right +back." But, before she went, she whispered in her husband's +ear:—</p> + +<p>"Robert March, I think a sleeping-car is the most detestable +place I ever got into in my life. Suppose I'd +tumbled into some stranger's berth, as I did into yours +just now."</p> + +<p>Mr. March only laughed, and Mrs. March heard him +laughing to himself after she had gone back, and it did not +make her feel any pleasanter to hear this. At last she and +Nelly were both undressed and in bed. Their clothes and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> +dressing-cases and travelling-bags were piled up on their +feet.</p> + +<p>"You mustn't kick, Nelly," said Mrs. March. "If you +do, you'll upset all the things out on the floor."</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid I always kick, mamma," replied honest +Nelly. "I won't while I'm awake; but when I'm asleep I +don't know."</p> + +<p>Nelly was fast asleep in two minutes; but Mrs. March +could not sleep. The air in the car was so close and hot +it made her head ache. She had pinned her curtains tight +together before she lay down, so that nobody could look +in on her as she had on the poor lady with five children. +Now she sat up in bed and unpinned them, and looked out +into the aisle. It was dark: the car was dashing along at +a tremendous rate; the air was most disagreeable, and there +were at least six people snoring different snores.</p> + +<p>"I can't stand this. I must open the window at the +foot of the berth," said Mrs. March. So she crept down +and tried to open it. She had not observed in the daytime +how the windows were fastened: she fumbled about in the +dark till she found the fastening; she could not move it; +she took the skin off her knuckles; she wrenched her +shoulder; all this time sitting cross-legged on the bed. At +last she gave a shove with all her strength, and the window +flew up: in one second, an icy blast blew in full of smoke +and cinders. "This won't do, either," said Mrs. March; +and she tried to get the window down. This took longer +than to get it up; finally, in despair, she propped it open +about two inches with one of her boots; then she sank back +exhausted, and came down hard on her watch and broke the +crystal: then she had a difficult time picking up all the little +bits of glass in the dark, and then, after she had picked them +up, she did not know what to do with them. There was +some stiff paper in her travelling-bag, if she could only get<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> +at it; at last she found it, but, in drawing it out, she knocked +the cork out of the hartshorn bottle, and over went the +bottle in the bag, all the hartshorn poured out, and such a +strong smell of hartshorn filled the berth it waked Nelly up.</p> + +<p>"Oh, mamma! what is it? and what smells so?" she said, +sleepily.</p> + +<p>"Only hartshorn, dear," said her mother, in a despairing +tone. "I've upset it all over every thing. Go to sleep, +dear: it won't smell so very long."</p> + +<p>Nelly dozed off again, saying: "I'm going to get up just +as soon as it's light. I hate this bed: don't you, mamma?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Nell, I do," said Mrs. March; "I would rather +have sat up all night: but I am so tired and sleepy now I +shall go to sleep, I think."</p> + +<p>When Nelly waked, it was just beginning to be light. +Her mother was sound asleep. Nelly leaned over her, and +looked out into the aisle. Nobody was up except Ben, +who was blacking boots at the end of the aisle.</p> + +<p>"I'll get up as still as I can, and get all dressed before +mamma wakes up," thought Nelly. "Poor mamma! What +a time she had last night!"</p> + +<p>At that moment, as Nelly turned her head, she saw a +sight which so frightened her that, in spite of herself, she +screamed. "What is it, Nell?" asked her mother, waking +instantly. Nelly could not speak, but pointed to the wall +at the back of their berth. Mrs. March sat upright in bed, +and gazed with astonishment and alarm almost as great as +Nelly's. What could it mean? There, in the smooth panel +of black walnut, which was almost as shining as a looking-glass, +was the reflection of a man's face. It was the face +of the man who had been eating the cheese and brown bread +and onions. He had a red handkerchief tied about his head +for a nightcap; and he was sound asleep, with his mouth +wide open. While Mrs. March and Nelly sat gazing breathlessly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> +at this unaccountable sight, the head slowly turned +on the pillow, and a hand came up and rubbed one eye. +Nelly nearly screamed again. Her mother put her hand +quickly over her mouth.</p> + +<p>"Hush, Nell!" she said; "do not be frightened. I see +how it is."</p> + +<p>The partitions which separated the sleeping-berths one +from the other did not come up close to the wall of the +car. There was room to put your hand through between. +The black walnut lining of the car was so polished that +it reflected like a looking-glass; so each person could see, +in the back of his berth, the face of the person who was +lying in the berth next before his.</p> + +<p>"Goodness!" exclaimed Mrs. March; "if we can see +into that berth, they can see into this one;" and she seized +one of the pillows, and set it up against the crack. Then +she looked down, and saw a similar opening at the foot of +the berth. This one she stopped up with another pillow.</p> + +<p>"There, Nell," she said, "now we can dress without +being overlooked."</p> + +<p>Nelly did not quite understand how these shining black +walnut panels could have acted like looking-glasses, and she +was a little afraid still that the queer, shaggy face with the +red silk nightcap would glare out at her again; but she +hurried on her clothes, and in a few minutes was ready to +go to the little wash-room which was provided for ladies at +the end of the car.</p> + +<p>"We are so early," said Mrs. March, "that I think we +will be the first ones there."</p> + +<p>Ah, how mistaken she was! When they reached the +little room, there stood two women waiting for their turn +at the wash-stand; a third was washing her face. As Mrs. +March and Nelly appeared, one of those who were waiting +called out:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span>—</p> + +<p>"Come in. Don't go away. If you do, you'll lose your +turn: there'll be lots more here directly."</p> + +<p>"Thank you," said Mrs. March: "my daughter and I +will wait there, just outside the door. We will not intrude +upon you."</p> + +<p>At this, all three of the women laughed, and one said:</p> + +<p>"H'm! there ain't much question of intrudin' in these +sleepin'-cars. It's just a kind o' big bedroom, that's all."</p> + +<p>Mrs. March smiled, and said: "Yes, I think so;" and +the women went on talking. They were relating their +experiences in the night. One of them said:—</p> + +<p>"Well, I got along very well till somebody opened a +window, and then I thought I should ha' froze to death; +but my husband he called the conductor up, and they shut +all the ventilators up; but I just shivered all night. Real +good soap this is: ain't it?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. March looked warningly at Nelly, who was just +about to speak. "Keep quiet, Nell," she said. But Nelly +whispered: "Do you suppose that was our window, +mamma?"</p> + +<p>"I dare say," answered Mrs. March, in a still lower +whisper: "keep still, Nell."</p> + +<p>"Well, I wa'n't too cold," said the woman at the washbowl. +She had her false teeth in her hand, and was washing +them under the little slow stream running from the faucet: +so she could not speak very distinctly. "Well, I wa'n't too +cold," she said, "but I'll tell you what did happen to me. +In the middle o' the night I felt somethin' against my head, +right on the very top on't; and what do you think it was? +'Twas the feet of the man in the next section to our'n. +'Well,' says I, 'this is more'n I can stand;' and I gave 'em +a real shove. I reckon he waked up, for I didn't feel 'em +no more."</p> + +<p>At this Nelly had to run away. She could not keep the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> +laugh back any longer. And Mrs. March thought it better +to let her go, for she did not know what might be coming +next in the conversation of these women. At the other end +of the car, Nelly saw Rob, carrying something done up in +newspaper in his hand. She ran after him. He put his +finger on his lips as she drew near him, and made signs +to her not to speak. She could not imagine what he was +carrying. He went very fast to the outside door of the car, +opened it, and threw the parcel out.</p> + +<p>"What was it, Rob?" said Nell, eagerly.</p> + +<p>"I won't tell you," said Rob: "you'll tell."</p> + +<p>"Oh! I won't; I won't; indeed I won't," said Nell.</p> + +<p>"Honest Indian?" said Rob.</p> + +<p>"Honest Indian," said Nelly.</p> + +<p>This was the strongest form of pledge which Rob and +Nelly ever gave. It was like a sort of oath among the +children in Mayfield. If a child broke his promise after +he had said "Honest Indian," there was nothing too bad +for him.</p> + +<p>"Well," said Rob, coming very close to Nelly, and speaking +in a low whisper, "it was those people's string of +onions!"</p> + +<p>"Why, Rob!" cried Nelly, in a horrified tone, "why, +Rob! that's stealing. How could you?"</p> + +<p>"'Tain't stealing either, Nell March," said Rob, stoutly; +"I haven't got 'em. Stealing is taking things. I haven't +got them. I didn't want the old, horrid things. I just threw +them away. That ain't taking."</p> + +<p>Nelly still looked distressed. "Papa wouldn't like it," +she said, "nor mamma either. They were all those people +had to eat, except bread and cheese. Oh, Rob! I think it +was awful mean in you."</p> + +<p>"I don't care: I wish I hadn't told you. I don't think +it was mean. It was good enough for them for making<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> +such a smell in the cars. I heard some of the gentlemen +saying they hadn't any business with onions in the car,—that +the conductor ought to make them throw them away. +Anyhow, Nell, you promised not to tell."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Nell, "but I never once thought of its being +such a thing as this. What do you suppose they'll do? +They might have you took up and put in prison, Rob."</p> + +<p>Rob looked a little disturbed, but he replied bravely:</p> + +<p>"Oh, pshaw! I don't know whose onions they were anyhow. +I just found them rolling round on the floor, and I +picked them up: they weren't anybody's when they were +out loose in the car. I don't care: we won't have such a +horrid smell here to-day."</p> + +<p>Nelly walked away looking very unhappy. She disliked +the smell of onions as much as Rob did; but she would +rather have had the string of onions in her lap all day than +have had Rob do such a thing as this; and she felt sure it +would all be known, somehow, before the day came to an +end,—as you will see that it was.</p> + +<p>After everybody had got up, and the beds and pillows +and blankets were all packed away in the little cupboards +overhead, and the car was put in order for the day, the +people who had lunch-baskets began to eat their breakfasts. +Nelly sat very still in her seat, and watched to see +what would happen when the onions were found to be missing. +Rob had walked away, and stood at the farther door +of the car. He seemed to be very busy looking out at the +scenery.</p> + +<p>Mrs. March had a good little breakfast of boiled eggs +and bread and butter and tea and milk, all ready on the +table.</p> + +<p>"Call Rob," she said to Nelly. Nelly walked to the +end of the car, and said:—</p> + +<p>"Come, Rob. Mamma's got breakfast all ready."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span></p> + +<p>Without looking round, Rob whispered:—</p> + +<p>"Have they missed 'em?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know: I haven't heard any thing," answered +Nelly, in the same low tone. And they walked back together, +Nelly looking much more anxious than Rob did. +Mrs. March noticed their grave faces as they took their +seats, and she said:—</p> + +<p>"You are tired: aren't you, children?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, mamma!" they both exclaimed; "we aren't a +bit tired!"</p> + +<p>But their faces did not brighten. If the whole truth were +told, it must be owned that they were both very unhappy. +The more Rob thought about those onions, the more he +felt afraid that it was stealing to have thrown them away; +and this made him wretched enough.</p> + +<p>And the more Nelly thought about it, the surer she felt +that Rob was going to get into trouble before the thing +was done with. Neither of them ate much breakfast; they +were both listening to what was going on in the next section. +They could hear such sentences as:—</p> + +<p>"I know I left 'em here last night."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps they went out of the window."</p> + +<p>"They couldn't: they were on the floor."</p> + +<p>"That black rascal's got 'em, you may be sure."</p> + +<p>At this last sentence, Nelly gave Rob a push under the +table with her foot, and his face turned very red.</p> + +<p>In a moment more, Ben entered the car; as he was passing +the Marches' table, the angry man from the next section +called out, in a very rude way:—</p> + +<p>"Here, you nigger, what'd you do with my onions?"</p> + +<p>Ben stood stock-still, he was so astonished.</p> + +<p>"Ungyuns!" he exclaimed; "I never seed no ungyuns."</p> + +<p>"Yes, you did! You must have: you've stowed 'em away<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> +somewhere. Now jest you pass 'em out, or I'll report +you."</p> + +<p>Ben had never been accused of stealing before. He +looked the man full in the face, and said:—</p> + +<p>"You can do all the reportin' yer want to, mister. I +never seed your ungyuns." And he was about to pass on; +but the man was so angry, and so sure that Ben must have +taken his onions, that he stood in the middle of the aisle, +right in Ben's way, and would not let him pass.</p> + +<p>"Hand 'em over now," he said, in the most insulting +tone; "hand 'em over."</p> + +<p>Mr. March, who had been watching the scene with some +amusement, was very much astonished, on looking at Rob +at this moment, to see his cheeks flushed, his lips parted as +if he were about to speak.</p> + +<p>"Why, Rob," he said, "do you know where the onions +are?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Rob.</p> + +<p>Nelly gave an involuntary gasp, under her breath, "Oh!"</p> + +<p>Mr. March looked at her in still greater surprise.</p> + +<p>"Do you, Nell?" he said.</p> + +<p>Nelly did not reply, but looked at Rob, who said:—</p> + +<p>"I don't know where they are now." But his expression +was a very guilty one.</p> + +<p>"Rob!" said his father, sternly, "you know something +about those onions: tell me this moment."</p> + +<p>Nelly clasped her hands tight, and gave a little cry, "Oh, +Rob!"</p> + +<p>Now that the final moment had come, Rob spoke up like +a man.</p> + +<p>"Papa, I threw them out of the car door,—they made +such a smell. I found them close to our berth when I first +got up, and they smelled so horrid I threw them away.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> +Perhaps they weren't this man's onions," said poor Rob, +clutching at a last hope.</p> + +<p>Mr. March could hardly believe his ears.</p> + +<p>"You! You took what did not belong to you, and then +threw it away! Why, Rob! I am ashamed of you! Why, +Rob, I wouldn't have believed it!" exclaimed Mr. March. +"You will pay for those onions out of your allowance." +And he looked at Rob more sternly than he had ever done +in his life.</p> + +<p>"Come, now, immediately," he continued, "and apologize +to the man." And he took Rob by the hand and led him +to the next seat.</p> + +<p>"I am very sorry to tell you, sir," he said, "that my +little boy here took your onions and threw them away. He +shall buy some for you at the very first station where we +can."</p> + +<p>"What'd yer throw 'em away for?" said the man, looking +curiously and not unkindly at Rob, whose face was +enough to make anybody sorry for him.</p> + +<p>"Because I hate the smell of them so," said Rob, sturdily; +"and my mamma hates them too; and I found them rolling +round on the floor, by our berth; and I just picked them up +and threw them away. I didn't think about their being +anybody's,—not until afterwards," he added; "and I'm +very sorry, sir. I'll buy you some more out of my own +money."</p> + +<p>Mr. March smiled at this little explanation: he saw that +Rob had not really intended to do wrong.</p> + +<p>"No, no, my boy, you needn't do that," said the man; +"we're going to get off before dinner time; an' we've got +a bin full o' onions at home. I expect they do smell kind +o' strong to folks that ain't used to 'em, but they're mighty +healthy."</p> + +<p>Rob walked back to his seat somewhat relieved, but still<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span> +very much ashamed. He glanced up in his mother's face. +She looked mortified; still there was a twinkle in her eyes: +in the bottom of her heart, she sympathized with Rob's +impulse to be rid of the onions at any cost.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Rob!" she said, "how could you do such a thing? +You knew they must belong to somebody."</p> + +<p>"Well, I did afterwards,—after I told Nell; but, when I +picked them up, I didn't think any thing except how they +smelt. It was a good riddance anyhow."</p> + +<p>The sick lady, who had to lie down all the way, was +in the section next but one to Mr. March's. She had looked +much amused during all this conversation, which she could +not help hearing. Mrs. March noticed her pleasant smile, +and thought she would like to do something for her. So +she gave Nelly a nice cup of hot tea to take over to her. +The lady was very grateful.</p> + +<p>"Oh!" she said, "this is the first good tea I have tasted +since I left home."</p> + +<p>Then she made Nelly sit down on the bed beside her, and +talked to her so sweetly that Nelly felt as if she had known +her all her life; and pretty soon she told her all about Mrs. +Napoleon.</p> + +<p>"Bring her here. Let me see her," said the lady.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I can't bear to have anybody see her!" said Nelly: +"she looks awful."</p> + +<p>"Never mind: we'll draw the curtains, and nobody else +shall see."</p> + +<p>So she called her nurse, who was sitting near; and, as +soon as Nelly had climbed up into the berth, the nurse drew +the curtains tight and shut them together. It seemed to +Mrs. March a long time before Nelly came out. When she +came she had two small parcels in her hands. They were +both in nice white tissue paper, tied up with pink ribbon. +Nelly looked as if she had been crying, but yet she looked<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span> +happy; and the sick lady had a most beautiful smile on her +face. Nelly gave one of the parcels to her mother, and +said:—</p> + +<p>"Mamma, will you please pack this in the bag? It is +the Empress's clothes. Perhaps I may have another doll +some day that they will fit."</p> + +<p>Then she handed the other parcel to her father, and +said:—</p> + +<p>"Please throw this out of the window, papa?"</p> + +<p>"What is it, Nell?" he said, surprised.</p> + +<p>Nelly's voice trembled a little; but she answered bravely.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Napoleon, papa. That nice lady looked at her, +and said she never could be mended; and if she were me, +she'd throw her right away. She says I'll feel better as +soon as she is out of my sight."</p> + +<p>Mr. March looked over at the sick lady and bowed and +smiled.</p> + +<p>"She is quite right, Nell. You'll forget all about it +much quicker. Good-by, Mrs. Napoleon," he said, and +threw the white parcel with its pink ribbons as far as he +could throw it.</p> + +<p>"I don't want to forget about it, papa," replied Nelly, +and pressed her face close against the window-pane, so as +not to lose that last glimpse of the package.</p> + +<p>Never were people gladder to reach any place than Mr. +and Mrs. March and Nelly and Rob were to reach Denver. +They were so tired that they went right to bed as soon as +they entered the hotel. They did not want any supper. The +next morning, however, they were up early, all rested and +ready to look at every thing. The first thing they saw as +they walked out of the hotel door, was a long range of high +mountains to the south. They looked down the street on +which the hotel stood, and saw these mountains rising up like +a great wall across the end of the street. They were covered<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> +with snow two-thirds of the way down. The lower part +which was not covered with snow was of a very dark blue +color; and the upper part, where the snow lay, shone in +the sun so dazzling bright that it made their eyes ache to +look at it. The sky was as blue as blue could be, and had +not a cloud in it; and some of the sharp peaks of the mountains +looked as if they were really cutting through the sky. +Mr. and Mrs. March and Nelly and Rob all stood still in +the middle of the street looking at the beautiful sight. +Several carriages and wagons came very near running over +them, but they hardly observed it. No one of them spoke +for some minutes: even Rob was overawed by the grandeur +of the mountains. But his overawed silence did not last +long. In a few minutes, he broke out with:—</p> + +<p>"Bully mountains! ain't they? Come on!" Mr. and +Mrs. March laughed.</p> + +<p>"Well, Rob," said his father, "you've brought us to +our senses: haven't you? But I do wish you wouldn't talk +slang."</p> + +<p>"No, Rob," said his mother. "How many times have I +asked you not to say 'bully'?"</p> + +<p>"I know it, mother," replied Rob; "but you don't tell +me any other word to say instead of it. A fellow must say +something; and 'bully' 's such a bully word. I don't believe +there's any other word that's good for any thing when things +are 'bully.'"</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear Rob! dear Rob! Three times in one sentence! +What shall we do to you? We will really have to hire you +to leave off that word, as grandpa hired you to drink cold +water, at so much a week."</p> + +<p>"Mamma," said Rob, solemnly, "you couldn't hire me +to leave off saying 'bully.' Money wouldn't pay me: I try +not to say it often, because you hate it so; but I don't expect<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> +to leave it off till I'm a man. I just have to say it sometimes."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Rob, you don't 'have' to say it!" exclaimed Nell. +"Nobody 'has to say' any thing."</p> + +<p>"Girls don't," said Rob, patronizingly: "but girls are +different; I'm always telling you that girls don't need words +like boys. It's just like whistling: girls needn't whistle; +but a boy—why, a boy'd die if he couldn't whistle."</p> + +<p>"I can whistle," said Nell. "I can whistle most as well +as you."</p> + +<p>"You can't, Nell," exclaimed Rob, utterly astonished.</p> + +<p>For reply, Nelly quietly whistled a bar of Yankee Doodle. +Rob stared at her.</p> + +<p>"Why, so you can!" said he. "I didn't know girls +ever whistled: I thought they were made so they couldn't."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no!" said Mrs. March; "I used to be a great +whistler when I was a girl; but I never let anybody hear +me, if I could help it. And Nelly knows that it is not lady-like +for a girl to whistle. She likes to whistle as well as +you like to say 'bully,' however; so you might leave off +that as well as she can leave off whistling."</p> + +<p>"But you used to whistle all alone by yourself," persisted +Rob; "and it is just as good fun to whistle all alone +as with other people; but it wouldn't be any fun to go off +all alone, and say 'bully! bully! bully!'"</p> + +<p>Mrs. March put her hands over her ears, and exclaimed: +"Oh, Rob! Rob! That makes six times! That dreadful +word!"</p> + +<p>"Oh!" said Rob, pretending to be very innocent, "do +you mind my saying it that way? That wasn't saying it +really: only talking about it," and Rob gave his mother a +mischievous look.</p> + +<p>The streets were thronged with people; everybody seemed +in a hurry; the shop windows were full of just such things<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> +as one sees in shop windows at the East; through street +after street they walked, growing more and more surprised +every moment.</p> + +<p>"Why, Robert," said Mrs. March, "except for the +bustling and excited air of the people, I should not know +that I was not in an Eastern city."</p> + +<p>"Nor I," said Mr. March: "I am greatly astonished to +see such a civilized-looking place."</p> + +<p>Just then an open carriage rolled past them. It was a +beautiful carriage, lined with red satin.</p> + +<p>"Oh, mamma! there is the nice lady who was in the +cars," said Nelly: "let me go and speak to her."</p> + +<p>The lady saw them and stopped her carriage: she was +very glad to see their faces; she felt so lonely in this strange +place. She was all alone with her doctor and nurse; and +already she was so homesick she was almost ready to turn +about and go home.</p> + +<p>"Oh! do let your little girl jump in and take a drive with +me," she said. "It will be a great favor to me if you +will."</p> + +<p>"Oh, mamma! let me; let me," cried Nelly; and, almost +before her mother had fully pronounced the words giving +her permission, she was climbing up the carriage steps. As +she took her seat by the lady's side, she looked wistfully +back at Rob. Mrs. Williams (that was the lady's name) +observed the glance, and said: "Won't you let the little +boy come too? Would you like to come, dear?"</p> + +<p>"No, thank you," said Rob: "I'd rather walk. I can +see better."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Rob! how can you?" exclaimed Nelly, but the +driver touched his horses with the whip, and they were off.</p> + +<p>What a drive that was for Nelly! She never forgot it. +It was her first sight of the grand Rocky Mountains. The +city of Denver lies on a great plain; about thirty miles<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> +away stands the mountain range; between the city and the +mountains runs a river,—the Platte River,—which has +green trees along its bank. Mrs. Williams took Nelly out +on high ground to the east, from which she could look over +the whole city, and the river, and out to the beautiful mountains. +Some of the peaks were as solid white as white +clouds, and looked almost like clouds suddenly made to stand +still in the skies. Mrs. Williams loved mountains very +much; and, as she looked at Nelly's face, she saw that Nelly +loved them too. Nelly said very little; but she kept hold +of Mrs. Williams's hand, and, whenever they came to a +particularly beautiful view, she would press it so hard that +once or twice Mrs. Williams cried out: "Dear child, you +hurt me: don't squeeze so tight;" upon which Nelly, very +much ashamed, would let go of her hand for a few minutes, +but presently, in her excitement, would be holding it again +as tight as ever. Mrs. Williams was a widow lady: she +had lost her husband and her only child—a little girl about +Nelly's age—only two years before, and she had been an +invalid ever since. As soon as she saw Nelly's face in the +cars, she had fancied that she looked like her little girl +who was dead. Her name was Ellen too, and she had always +been called Elly; so that Nelly's name had a familiar sound +to her. Mrs. Williams was a very rich lady; and, if Nelly's +father and mother had been poor people, she would have +asked them at once to give Nelly to her. But, of course, she +knew that that would be out of the question; so all she +could do was to try to make Nelly have a good time as long +as she was with her. After they had driven all about the +city, and had seen all there was to see, she said to the +driver:</p> + +<p>"Now go to the best toy store in the city." Nelly did +not hear this direction: she was absorbed in looking at the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> +mountains. So she was much surprised when they stopped +at the shop, and Mrs. Williams said:—</p> + +<p>"Now, Nelly dear, I want you to go in and buy something +for me: will you? I can't get out of the carriage +myself."</p> + +<p>"Yes indeed," exclaimed Nelly, "if I can; but I never +went into a shop alone in my life. Mamma always goes +with me. Can't I bring what you want out here for you to +look at?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Williams laughed.</p> + +<p>"You'll be a better judge of it than I, Nell," she said. +"It is a wax doll I want for a young friend of mine,—just +about such an one as you had in the cars."</p> + +<p>Wasn't Nelly a very simple little girl never to think that +Mrs. Williams meant to buy it for her? She never so much +as thought of it. "Oh!" said she, "how glad she'll be! I +hope she'll have better luck with it than I had. You tell +her not to take her on any journeys. Is it your own little +girl?"</p> + +<p>Then Nelly saw the tears come in Mrs. Williams's eyes: +her lips quivered, and she said:—</p> + +<p>"My own little girl is in heaven; but this doll is for +a little girl I love very much, who looks like my little girl. +Run in, dear, and see what you can find."</p> + +<p>The shopkeeper looked quite surprised to see such a little +girl coming up to the counter, and asking if he had any +big wax dolls with eyes which would open.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sis," he said, "we have two; but they cost too +much money for you, I reckon."</p> + +<p>Nelly did not like being called "sis."</p> + +<p>"My name is not sis," she said, "and the doll is for a +sick lady out in the carriage. Won't you please bring them +out for her to look at?" and Nelly turned, and walked out +of the shop.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Hoity toity!" said the man. "What airs we put on, +don't we, for small fry! Eastern folks, I reckon;" but he +went to a drawer, and took out his two wax dolls, and carried +them to the carriage. Each doll was in a box by itself. +One was dressed in pink satin, and one in white muslin.</p> + +<p>"Which is the prettiest, Nelly?" said Mrs. Williams.</p> + +<p>"Oh, the one in white muslin,—ever so much the +prettiest! My mamma says satin is very silly on dolls, and +I think so too. Mrs. Napoleon had a blue satin dress, and +I gave it to Mabel Martin. She never wore it but once,—the +day she came; she had it on when she was in the stocking; +but I hated it on her."</p> + +<p>"In the stocking!" said Mrs. Williams; "that big doll +never went into a stocking. What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, not into a common stocking!" said Nelly; "into +one of my grandpa's stockings. Mamma always hangs his +stockings up for us at Christmas."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Williams was still more perplexed.</p> + +<p>"Why, child," she said, "how big is your grandpa? Is +he a giant?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no!" laughed Nelly, "he isn't very big; but these +are great stockings he had made to sleep in. They come all +the way up his legs,—both parts of his leg,—way up above +his knee, as far as his legs go, so as to keep him warm when +he's asleep. He doesn't sleep in any night-gown."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Williams laughed heartily at this, and was about to +ask Nelly some other questions, when the storekeeper interrupted +her with:—</p> + +<p>"Can't stand here all day, mum. Do ye want the dolls +or not: say quick."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Williams was not accustomed to be spoken to in +this manner, and she looked at him in surprise.</p> + +<p>"Oh!" he said, in answer to her look, "you ain't in +the East, you'll find out. We Western men've got too much<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span> +to do to dangle round all day on a single trade. Do ye want +the dolls? If not, I'll take 'em back."</p> + +<p>"I am sorry you are in such a hurry all the time, sir," +said Mrs. Williams, slowly: "it must be very disagreeable. +I will take one of these dolls as soon as this little girl has +decided which one is the prettiest."</p> + +<p>"Oh, the white-muslin-gown one, ever so much," exclaimed +Nelly.</p> + +<p>"Very well. You may put it up for me," said Mrs. +Williams, taking out her purse. "How much does it cost?"</p> + +<p>"Ten dollars," said the man.</p> + +<p>"Oh, oh!" exclaimed Nelly, "mine was only five, and +it was just as big as this one."</p> + +<p>The man looked a little embarrassed. The doll did not +really cost ten dollars: it had only cost five; but he thought +Mrs. Williams looked like a rich lady, and he might as +well ask all he could get.</p> + +<p>"Well, this cost me six dollars in New York," he said; +"but there isn't much sale for them here: you can have +it for seven."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Williams paid him the seven dollars, and they drove +away with the box with the doll in it, lying in Nelly's lap. +Presently Nelly said:—</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mrs. Williams, won't you let me send all Mrs. +Napoleon's clothes to the little girl this dolly's for? I think +they'd fit this dolly: don't you?"</p> + +<p>"You dear little thing!" exclaimed Mrs. Williams; +"would you really send all those pretty clothes to a little +girl you don't know?"</p> + +<p>"But you know her," said Nelly, "and you said you loved +her; so I'd like to have her have them. Besides, I don't +believe I'll ever have another dolly like Mrs. Napoleon: +at any rate, not for a great many years."</p> + +<p>"Very well, dear," replied Mrs. Williams: "I will take<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> +them. She will be all the more pleased to get so many extra +suits. When we stop at the hotel, you can give them to +me."</p> + +<p>"The waterproof is torn some," said Nelly: "I guess +mamma'll mend it."</p> + +<p>"Oh, never mind!" said Mrs. Williams. "This little +girl's mamma is a very kind mamma: she can mend it."</p> + +<p>When they stopped at the hotel, Nelly raced upstairs and +burst into her mother's room.</p> + +<p>"Mamma!" she exclaimed almost as breathlessly as Rob +was in the habit of speaking, "mamma, give me all Mrs. +Napoleon's clothes. The sick lady's bought a beautiful wax +doll—just Mrs. Napoleon's size—her name's Mrs. +Williams—I asked her—and she's going to send it to a +little girl she loves very much—her own little girl's dead—and +I want her to have those clothes too, because Mrs. +Williams is so kind; oh, she's the sweetest lady! Give me +the clothes, quick!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. March was looking in a trunk for them while Nelly +ran on. She smiled as she handed them to Nelly.</p> + +<p>"Are you sure you will not want them yourself, Nell?" +she said; "you might have a doll that they'd just fit."</p> + +<p>"I don't believe I ever will, mamma," said Nelly, "and +even if I do, I'd rather give these clothes away. Mrs. +Williams is such a sweet lady—you don't know, mamma!" +And Nelly ran downstairs with the package in her hand. +As she left the room, Rob said to his mother:—</p> + +<p>"Mamma, I bet she's bought the doll for Nell! Wouldn't +that be fun? Nell's such a goose she'd never suspect any +thing!"</p> + +<p>"Hush, Rob!" said Mrs. March; "don't put such an +idea into Nell's head. It isn't at all likely."</p> + +<p>"Well, you'll see, mamma. I'll bet you any thing."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Ladies don't 'bet,' Rob; and you know mamma hates to +hear you say the word."</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear, mamma!" groaned Rob, "you hate all the +nice words! I wish ladies were just like boys!"</p> + +<p>Late that evening, after Rob and Nelly were fast asleep, +a large parcel was brought to their rooms, addressed to Mrs. +March. She opened it, and found inside—sure enough, as +Rob had said—the beautiful wax doll which Nelly had +told them about; and, in the box with the doll, the little +bundle of all Mrs. Napoleon's clothes. A note from Mrs. +Williams to Mrs. March was pinned on the outside of the +package. She said:—</p> + +<blockquote><p>"<span class="smcap">My dear Mrs. March</span>,—Will you allow me to give +this doll to your dear, sweet little daughter, to supply the +place of the lost Mrs. Napoleon. If you knew how great a +pleasure it is to me to do this, I am sure you would not +refuse it. Your little girl reminds me so strongly of my +own little Elly, who died two years ago, that I only wish I +could have her always with me.</p></blockquote> + +<p><span style="margin-left: 7em;">"Truly your friend, although a stranger,</span><br /></p> +<p class="smcap"> +<span style="margin-left: 15em;">"Isabella Williams."<br /></span> +</p> + +<p>"Well, Rob was right!" exclaimed Mrs. March, as she +read this note. "See, Robert, what a beautiful doll has +come for Nelly from that invalid lady she went to drive +with this afternoon. Rob said she had bought it for Nelly, +but I didn't believe it. I don't exactly like to take such a +valuable present from a stranger."</p> + +<p>Mr. March was reading the note.</p> + +<p>"But we could not refuse," he said. "It would be cruel, +when she wants to give it to Nelly because she looks so like +her little child that is dead."</p> + +<p>"No," said Mrs. March; "of course we could not refuse."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span></p> + +<p>"She had one of the sweetest and saddest faces I ever +saw," said Mr. March. "I do not think she will live long. +I wish we could do something for her."</p> + +<p>"I will go and see her to-morrow morning, and thank +her for the doll," said Mrs. March; "and then I will find +out whether we can do any thing for her or not. I shall +not let Nelly know any thing about the doll till we are all +settled. I will pack it away in my trunk."</p> + +<p>"Yes, that will be much wiser," said Mr. March; "we +won't have a second Mrs. Napoleon disaster."</p> + +<p>Later in the evening, Deacon and Mrs. Plummer arrived; +and the next day was very much taken up in discussing +plans with them, and making arrangements for going on +their journey; and it was late in the afternoon before Mrs. +March found time to go to the hotel where Mrs. Williams +was staying. She found, to her great sorrow, that Mrs. +Williams had left town at noon. She had gone, the landlord +said, to Idaho Springs; where he believed she was to +take the hot baths. Mrs. March wrote a note to her immediately, +and the landlord said he would forward it; but +he was not sure of her address, and Mrs. March was very +much afraid it would never reach her.</p> + +<p>The Marches stayed in Denver a week, but they did not +hear a word from Mrs. Williams, and Mrs. March reproached +herself very much for not having gone to see her +early the next morning after the doll came.</p> + +<p>"It is evident," she said, "that she never got my note; +and what must she have thought of us for not acknowledging +such a beautiful present. It will worry me always, as +often as I see the doll."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER V</h2> + +<h4>FIRST GLIMPSES OF COLORADO AND A NEW HOME</h4> + + +<p>Just one week from the day they had reached Denver +they set out again on their journey southward. They were +going to a beautiful place in the mountains, called the Ute +Pass. It really is a canyon: you remember I tried to explain +to you what a canyon is like. This canyon is called the +Ute Pass because a tribe of Indians named the Utes used +to come and go through it when they were journeying from +one hunting ground to another. A little stream comes down +through this pass, which is called the Fountain Creek. It +leaps and tumbles from rock to rock, and is always in a +foam. A great many years ago, some Frenchmen who +were here named it "The fountain that boils." Part of the +canyon is very narrow, and the rocky walls are very high. +There is a good road through it now, close beside the brook; +but when the Indians used to go through it there was no +road: they had a little narrow path; some parts of it are still +to be seen high up on the ledges of the rock, wherever there +is room enough for a pony to get foothold. It looks like a +little, worn track which sheep or goats might have made; +you would never believe, to look at it, that great bands of +Indians on ponies used to travel over it. One thing they +used to come down for was to drink the waters of some +springs which bubble up out of the rocks at the mouth of +the canyon. These are very strange. They bubble up so +fast that they look as if they were boiling: this is why the +Frenchmen called the brook "The fountain that boils." But<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> +they are not any hotter than the water in the brook. The +Indians found out that this water would cure people who +were ill: so they used to wrap their sick people up in blankets, +and bring them on ponies over this little narrow path through +the pass, and then build their wigwams close to the springs, +and stay there for weeks, drinking the water, and bathing +in it. The last part of the canyon is not narrow: it widens +out; and has little fields and meadows and groves in it. +The road through it is lined almost all the way with green +trees and bushes of different kinds; and there is a beautiful +wild-hop vine which grows in great abundance, and climbs +up the trees, and seems to be tying them all up in knots +together; the hop blossoms look like green tassels at every +knot. Does not this sound like a lovely place to live in? Mr. +and Mrs. March thought so; they had seen several pictures +of it; and a man who had lived two years there told them +about it, and tried to persuade them to buy his house and +land. But old Deacon Plummer was too wise to buy till +they had tried it.</p> + +<p>"No, no," he said; "we'll hire it for six months first, +and see how it works. It may be all true as you say about +the cattle's grazin' well up and down them rocks; but I'd +rather hev medder land any day. We'll hire, to begin +with."</p> + +<p>So they had rented the man's house and land for six +months, and had bought all his cows: the cows were still +on the place. Then they bought a nice wagon, with three +seats and a white top to it, very much like the butchers' +carts you see going round with meat to sell in country +villages. All the farmers in Colorado drive in such wagons. +Then they had bought two horses. The horses and the +wagon were to go with them on the cars. I must tell you +about the horses. They had such queer names! One was +a dark red, and he was called "Fox." He had a narrow<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> +head and a sharp nose; and really his face did look like a +fox's face. The other horse was of a very queer shade of +reddish yellow, with a good deal of white about him; his +forefeet were white, and his mane was almost white; and, +if you will believe it, his name was "Pumpkinseed"! The +man the Marches bought him of did not know why he was +called so. He himself had only owned him a year; and, +when he asked the man he bought him of how he came to +give the horse such a queer name, he said he "didn't know. +The old woman named him; mebbe she thought he was kind +o' the color of pumpkin-seed, sort o' streaked with yaller 'n' +white." Rob was delighted with this name. He kept singing +it over and over: "Pumpkinseed! Pumpkinseed! +We've got a horse called Pumpkinseed!"—till his mother +begged him to stop.</p> + +<p>The railroad which runs southward from Denver is the +kind of railroad called a narrow-gauge railroad. This +means that the track is only about two-thirds the width of +ordinary railroad tracks; and the cars and the engines are +made small to match the track. You can't think how droll +a train of such little cars looks when you first see it; it looks +like a play train. A gentleman I know said a funny thing +the first time he saw a little narrow-gauge train puffing along +behind its little engine; he turned to his wife: "Look here, +wife," said he; "let's buy that and send it home to the +children to play with."</p> + +<p>When Rob and Nelly first stepped into the little car, they +exclaimed, "What a funny car!" On one side the car +there were double seats in which two people could sit; on +the other side were single seats, rather tight even for one +person. Nelly and Rob both ran to get two of these little +seats.</p> + +<p>"Hurrah!" said Rob, as he sat down in this; "I'm going<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span> +in a high chair! Mamma, ain't this just like a baby's high +chair?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, just about, Rob," said Mr. March, who had taken +his seat in one, and found it too tight for comfort.</p> + +<p>But they soon ceased to wonder at the little seats, for +they found so much to look at out of the car windows. The +journey from Denver to the town of Colorado Springs, +where they were to leave the cars, takes four hours and a +half: the road lies all the way on the plains, but runs near +the lower hills of the mountain ranges on the right; about +half way, it crosses what is called the "Divide." That is +a high ridge of land, with great pine groves on it, and a +beautiful little lake at the top. This is over eight thousand +feet high.</p> + +<p>Down the south side of this, the cars run swiftly by their +own weight, just as you go down hill on a sled: the engine +does not have to draw them at all. In fact, they have to +turn the brakes down some of the time to keep the cars +from going too fast.</p> + +<p>Nelly and Rob sat sidewise in their seats with their faces +close to the window, all the way. They had never seen +such a country. Every mile new mountain tops came in +sight, and new and wonderful rocks. Some of the rocks +looked like great castles, with towers to them. More than +once Rob called out:—</p> + +<p>"There, mamma! that one is a castle: I know it is. It +can't possibly be a rock."</p> + +<p>And it was hard even for the grown people to believe +that they were merely rocks. Old Deacon and Mrs. Plummer +were almost as much excited as Rob and Nelly. The +Deacon, however, was looking with a farmer's eye at the +country. He did not like to find so much snow: as far as he +could see in all directions, there was a thin coating of snow +over the ground. The yellow grass blades stood up above<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> +it like little masts of ships under water. Everywhere he +looked he saw cattle walking about. They did not look as if +they were contented; and they were so thin, you could see +their bones when they came close to the cars.</p> + +<p>At last the Deacon said to Mr. March:—</p> + +<p>"Here's their stock runnin' out all winter, that we've +heard so much on; but it appears to me, it's mighty poor-lookin' +stock. I don't see how in natur' the poor things +get a livin' off this dried grass, half buried up in snow."</p> + +<p>"Ah, sir!" spoke up a man on the seat behind Mr. March; +"you do not know how much sweeter the hay is, dried on +the stalk, standing. There is no such hay in the world as +the winter grasses in Colorado."</p> + +<p>"Do you keep stock yourself, sir?" asked the Deacon.</p> + +<p>"No, I've never been in the stock business myself," +the man replied; "but I have lived in this State five years, +and I know it pretty well; and it's the greatest country for +stock in the world, sir,—yes, the greatest in the world."</p> + +<p>Deacon Plummer smiled, but did not ask any more questions. +After this enthusiastic man had left the car, the +Deacon said quietly, pointing to a poor, lean cow who was +sniffing hungrily at some little tufts of yellow grass near +the railroad track: "I'd rather have her opinion than his. +If the critter could speak, I guess she'd say, 'Give me a +manger full of good medder hay, in a Massachusetts barn, +in place of all this fine winter grass of Colorado.'"</p> + +<p>Rob and Nelly laughed out at this idea of the cow's being +called in as witness.</p> + +<p>"I guess so too," said Rob; "don't she look hungry, +though?"</p> + +<p>Just before they reached the town of Colorado Springs, +they suddenly saw, a short distance off, on the right-hand +side of the railroad track, two enormous red rocks, rising +like broken pieces of a high wall; they looked thin, like slabs.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> +One of them was deep brick red, and the other was a sort +of pink.</p> + +<p>"Oh, mamma! look quick, look quick," exclaimed Nelly: +"what can those red rocks be?"</p> + +<p>"They are the Gates of the Garden of the Gods," said +the conductor, who was passing at that moment; "the +Garden lies just behind them, and you drive in between those +high rocks."</p> + +<p>Even while he was passing, the rocks disappeared from +view. Nelly looked at them with awe-stricken eyes.</p> + +<p>"The Garden of the Gods, sir!" she said; "what does +that mean? What gods? Do they worship heathen gods +in this country?"</p> + +<p>A lady who was sitting opposite Nelly laughed aloud at +this question.</p> + +<p>"I don't wonder you ask such a question," she said: +"it is one of the most absurd names ever given to a place, +and I cannot find out who gave it. Those high rocks that +you saw are like a sort of gateway into a great field which +is full of very queer-shaped rocks. Most of them are red, +like the gates; some of them have uncouth resemblances +to animals or to human heads. There is one that looks like +a seal, and another like a fish standing on its tail, and peering +up over a rock. There are a good many cedar-trees and +pines in this place, and in June a few flowers; but, for the +most part, it is quite barren. The soil is of a red color, like +the rocks; and the grass is very thin, so that the red color +shows through; and you couldn't find a place in all Colorado +that looks less like a garden."</p> + +<p>"But why did they say 'gods'?" asked Nelly; "did +they mean the old gods? My papa has told me about them,—Jupiter, +and his wife, Juno. Is this where they lived?"</p> + +<p>The lady laughed again. "I can't tell you about that, +dear," she said. "I think they thought the place was so<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span> +grand that it looked as if it ought to belong to some beings +greater than human beings: so they said 'gods.' I think +myself it would have been a good name for it to call it the +'Fortress of the Gods,' or 'The Tombs of the Giants;' but +not the 'Garden of the Gods.' I shouldn't want it even for +my own garden; and I'm only a commonplace woman. But +it is a very wonderful place to see. You will be sure to go +there, for all strangers are taken to see it."</p> + +<p>"Do you live in Colorado, madam?" asked Mrs. March.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes!" replied the lady: "Colorado Springs, the +little town we are just coming to, is my home."</p> + +<p>"Do you like it?" asked Mrs. March, anxiously.</p> + +<p>"Like it!" replied the lady: "like is not a strong enough +word. I love it. I love these mountains so that, whenever +I go away from them, I miss them all the time; and I keep +seeing them before me all the while, just as you see the face +of a dear friend you are separated from. I should be very +ungrateful, if I did not love the place; for it has simply +made me over again. I came out here three years ago on a +mattress, with my doctor and nurse, and thought it very +doubtful if I lived to get here; and I have been perfectly +well ever since."</p> + +<p>"Did you have asthma?" asked Rob, turning very red +as soon as he had asked the question. He was afraid it +was improper. "My papa has the asthma."</p> + +<p>"Oh, if that is your papa's trouble, he will be sure to +be entirely well. Nobody can have asthma in Colorado," +replied the lady. "It is the one thing which is always cured +here. My own trouble was only a throat trouble."</p> + +<p>"I am very glad to hear you speak so confidently about +the asthma," said Mrs. March: "my husband has been a +great sufferer from it, and it is for that we have come."</p> + +<p>"You have done the very wisest thing you could have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> +done," said the lady "you will never be sorry for it. But +here we are; good morning."</p> + +<p>The train was already stopping in front of a little brown +wooden building, and the brakeman called out: "Colorado +Springs."</p> + +<p>"What a pleasant lady!" said Nelly to her mother.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Mrs. March; "but it was partly because +she told us such good news for papa."</p> + +<p>As they stepped out on the platform, they were almost +deafened by the shouts of two black men, who were calling +out the names of two hotels: two omnibuses belonging to +the different hotels were standing there, and each black +man was trying to get the most passengers for his hotel. +Each man called out:—</p> + +<p>"Free 'bus—this way to the free 'bus—only first-class +hotel in the city."</p> + +<p>"Mercy on us!" exclaimed Mrs. March. "Let us go to +the one who speaks the lowest, if there is any difference. +They must think railroad travellers are all deaf! It makes +no difference to which one we go just for a dinner. We shall +drive home this afternoon."</p> + +<p>So saying, she stepped into the nearest omnibus, and the +rest of the party followed her. In a moment more, the driver +cracked his whip, and the four horses set off on a full gallop +up the hill which lies between the railway station and the +town. As they drew near the hotel door, the driver turned +such a sharp corner, all at full speed, that the omnibus +swung round on the wheels of one side, and pitched so violently +that it threw both Nelly and Rob off their seats into +the laps of their father and mother who sat opposite.</p> + +<p>"Hullo!" exclaimed Rob, picking himself up, "this is +the way the gods drive, I suppose!"</p> + +<p>His mother looked reprovingly at him; but he only laughed +and said:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span>—</p> + +<p>"They call every thing after the gods, don't they? So +I thought that pitch was the same sort."</p> + +<p>After dinner, Deacon Plummer harnessed Fox and Pumpkinseed +into the new wagon, and they set out for their new +home. It was a beautiful afternoon; as warm and bright as +a May day in New England. There was no snow to be +seen except on the mountains, which rose like a great blue +wall with white peaks to the west of the town.</p> + +<p>"Now this feels something like," said the Deacon, as +they set out; "this is like what they told us. I wonder if +it's been this way all winter."</p> + +<p>They drove five miles straight towards the mountains. +Nelly had taken her picture of Pike's Peak out of the +travelling-bag, and held it in her hand. Now she could +look up from it to the real mountain itself, and see if the +picture were true.</p> + +<p>"I don't care for the picture any more, papa," said +Nelly, "now I've got the mountain. The picture isn't half +so beautiful." And Nelly hardly took her eyes from the +shining, snowy summit till they were so close to its base +that it was nearly shut out from their sight by the lower +hills.</p> + +<p>They drove through the little village at the mouth of +the Ute Pass. Here they saw two large hotels, and half +a dozen small houses and shops. This little village is called +Manitou. The Indians named it so. Manitou means "Good +Spirit," and they thought the Good Spirit had made the +waters bubble up out of the rocks here to cure sick people. +A few rods beyond the last house, they entered the real +pass. Now their surprises began. On each side of them +were high walls of rock: at the bottom of the right-hand +wall was just room enough for the road; on the left hand +they looked over a steep precipice down to a brook which +was rushing over great stones, and leaping down with much<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span> +roar and foam from one basin to another; there was no +fence along this left-hand side of the road, and as Mrs. +March looked over she shuddered, and exclaimed:—</p> + +<p>"Oh, Robert, let me get out! I never can drive up this +road: let us all walk."</p> + +<p>Mr. March himself thought it was dangerous; so he +stopped the horses, and Mrs. March and Mrs. Plummer and +the two children got out to walk. Nelly and Rob did not +look where they were walking; they were all the while looking +up at the great rocks over their heads, which jutted out +above the road like great shelves: some rose up high in the +air like towers; they were all of a fine red color, or else of +a yellowish brown; and they were full of sharp points, and +deep lines were cut in them; and a beautiful green lichen +grew on many of them. Sometimes they were heaped up +in piles, so that they looked as if they might tumble down +any minute; sometimes they were hollowed out in places +that looked as if they were made for niches for statues to +stand in; on one high hill was a strange pile, built up so +solid and round it looked like a pulpit. Mrs. March and +Nelly and Rob were standing still, looking at this, when a +man who passed by, seeing they were strangers, called +out:—</p> + +<p>"That's Tim Bunker's Pulpit."</p> + +<p>"Who's Tim Bunker?" cried Rob; but the man was riding +so fast he did not hear him.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Nell! if it isn't too far we'll climb up there some +day: won't we?" said Rob. "Mamma, don't you suppose +we're pretty near our house?"</p> + +<p>"I think not, Rob," replied Mrs. March; "there cannot +be any place for a house while the pass is so narrow."</p> + +<p>"Oh, mamma! mamma! come here!" shouted Nelly. +She had taken one step down from the road, and was looking<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> +over into the brook. "Here is the most beautiful little +fall you ever saw!"</p> + +<p>They all climbed carefully down on the broad stone where +Nelly was standing, and looked over. It was indeed a +beautiful fall: not very high,—but all one white foam from +top to bottom; and the water fell into a small pool, where +the spray had frozen into a great round rim: it looked like +frosted silver.</p> + +<p>"That's a pretty silver bowl to catch the water in; ain't +it, now?" said Mrs. Plummer. "I'd like a drink of it."</p> + +<p>"What a queer country this is!" said Mrs. March "here +we are walking without any outside wraps on, and almost +too warm in the sun; and here is ice all round this pool; +and I have seen little thin rims of ice here and there on +the brook all the way up."</p> + +<p>"It's just bully," cried Rob. "Say, mamma, I'm going +down to drink out of that bowl;" and, before they could +stop him, Rob was half way down the precipice. He found +it rougher than he thought; and he had more than one good +tumble before he got down to the bed of the brook: but he +reached it, dipped his drinking-cup into the pool, broke off a +big piece of the frozen spray, and with that in one hand, and +his drinking-cup in the other, began to climb up again. This +was twice as hard as to go down,—it made Rob puff and +pant, and he lost his piece of ice before he had gone many +steps,—but he managed to carry the water up, and very +much they all enjoyed it. "It's the sweetest water I ever +tasted," said Mrs. Plummer.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Mrs. March, "it must be, in good part, +melted snow water out of the mountains: that is always +sweet. This is the brook, no doubt, which runs past our +house. You know they said it was close to the brook."</p> + +<p>"Oh, splendid!" cried Rob; "oh, mamma, isn't this a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span> +gay country? so much nicer than an old village with streets +in it, like Mayfield. This is some fun."</p> + +<p>Mrs. March laughed, but she thought in her heart:</p> + +<p>"I hope he'll always find it fun."</p> + +<p>"I don't think it's fun, Rob," said Nelly, slowly.</p> + +<p>"Why not, Nell?" exclaimed Rob; "why don't you +like it?"</p> + +<p>"I do like it," said Nell, earnestly; "I like it better than +any thing in all the world; but I don't think it's fun. It's +lots better than fun."</p> + +<p>"Well, what'd you call it, if you don't call it fun?" said +Rob, in a vexed tone.</p> + +<p>Nelly did not answer.</p> + +<p>"Why don't you say?" cried Rob.</p> + +<p>"I'm thinking," replied Nelly: "I guess there isn't any +name for it. I don't know any."</p> + +<p>Just at this moment, they heard the tinkle of bells ahead, +and in a second more loud shouts and cries. They walked +faster. The wagon had been out of their sight for some +time. As they turned a sharp bend in the road now, they +saw it; and they saw also another wagon brought to a dead +halt in front of it. The wagon which was coming down +was loaded high with packages of shingles. It was drawn +by six mules. They had bells on their necks, so as to warn +people when they were coming. Mr. March and Deacon +Plummer had heard these bells, but they had not known +what they meant: if they had, they would have drawn off +into one of the wider bends in the road, and waited. Now +here the two wagons were, face to face, in one of the very +worst places in the road, just where it seemed barely wide +enough for one wagon alone. The rock rose up straight on +one side, and the precipice fell off sharp on the other. To +make matters worse, Pumpkinseed, who hated the very +sight of a mule, and who did not like the shining of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span> +bright, yellow shingles, began to rear and to plunge. The +driver of the mule team sat still, and looked at Mr. March +and the Deacon surlily without speaking. Mr. March and +the Deacon looked at him helplessly, and said:—</p> + +<p>"What are we going to do now?"</p> + +<p>"Didn't yer hear me a-coming?" growled the man.</p> + +<p>"No, sir," said Mr. March, pleasantly: "we are strangers +here, and did not know what the bells meant."</p> + +<p>At this the man jumped down: he was not so angry, when +he found out that they were strangers. He walked down +the road a little way, and looked, and shook his head; then +he walked back in the direction he had come from; then he +came back, and said:—</p> + +<p>"There's nothin' for it, mister, but you'll have to unharness +your team. My mules'll stand; I'll help you."</p> + +<p>So they took out Pumpkinseed and Fox, and Mr. March +led them on ahead. Then Deacon Plummer and the mule-driver +pushed the wagon backward down the road till they +came to a place where there was a curve in the road, and they +could push it up so close to the rock that there was room +for another wagon to pass. There the mule-driver drove +his wagon by; and then Mr. March led Fox and Pumpkinseed +down, and harnessed them to the wagon again: all +this time Mrs. March and Mrs. Plummer and Rob and Nelly +stood on the edge of the precipice, wherever they could find +a secure place, and holding on to each other. As the mule +team started on, the driver called back: "There's three or +four more behind me: you'd better keep a sharp lookout, +mister."</p> + +<p>"I should think so," exclaimed Deacon Plummer, +"this is the perkiest place for teams to pass in thet ever +I got into. I don't much like the thought o' comin' up +and down here with all our teamin'."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span></p> + +<p>"No," said Mrs. March. "I'll never drive down here as +long as I live."</p> + +<p>"Never's a long word, wife," laughed Mr. March. "If +we're going to live in this Pass, I don't doubt we shall get +so used to this road, we sha'n't think any thing about it."</p> + +<p>The road wound like a snake, turning first one way and +then the other, and crossing the brook every few minutes. +Sometimes they would be in dark shadow, when they were +close to the left-hand hill; and then, in a minute, they would +come out again into full sunlight.</p> + +<p>"It's just like going right back again from after sundown +to the middle of the afternoon: isn't it, mamma?" +said Nelly. "How queer it feels!"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Mrs. March, "and I do not like the sundown +part. I hope our house is not in such a narrow part +of the Pass as this."</p> + +<p>Presently they saw a white house a little way ahead, on +the right-hand side of the road. A high, rocky precipice +rose immediately behind it; and the brook seemed to be +running under the house, it was so close to it. The house +was surrounded by tall pine and fir trees; and, on the opposite +side of the road the hill was so steep and high that +already, although it was only three o'clock in the afternoon, +the sun had gone down out of sight, and the house was dark +and cold. The whole party looked anxiously at this house.</p> + +<p>"That can't be it, can it?" said Mrs. March.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no!" said Mr. March; "it isn't in the least such a +house as the photograph showed: but I will stop and ask."</p> + +<p>A man was chopping wood a few steps from the house. +Mr. March called to him.</p> + +<p>"This isn't Garland's, is it?"</p> + +<p>Instead of replying, the man laid down his axe, and +walked slowly out to the road, staring very hard at them all.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Be you the folks that's comin' to live to Garland's?" +he said.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the Deacon; "and we hope this isn't the +place; if 'tis, we hain't been told the truth, that's all."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Lor', no," laughed the man. "This ain't Garland's; +his place's two mile farther on. That ain't no great +shakes of a place, either,—Garland's ain't; but he's got +more land'n we have. There ain't land enough here to raise +a ground mole in. I'm sick on 't."</p> + +<p>"You don't get daylight enough to raise any thing, for +that matter," said Mr. March; "here it is the middle of the +afternoon, by the clock, and past sundown for you."</p> + +<p>"I know it," said the man; "but there's something in the +air here which kind o' makes up for every thing. I don't +know how 'tis, but we've had our healths first rate ever since +we've lived here. But I'm going to move down to the +Springs: it's too lonesome up here, and there ain't nothin' +to do. Be you goin' into stock?"</p> + +<p>"Not much," said Mr. March. "We are only trying an +experiment here: we have bought all Garland's cows."</p> + +<p>"Have ye?" said the man. "Well, Garland had some +first-rate cattle; but they're pretty well peaked out now. +Cattle gets dreadful poor here, along in March and April: +ye'd reelly pity 'em. But it's amazin' how they pick up's +soon's the grass comes in June. It don't seem to hurt 'em +none to be kinder starved all winter. Come and see us: +we're neighborly folks out'n this country. My wife she'll +be glad to know there's some wimmen folks in the Pass. +She's been the only woman here for a year. Garland he +bached it: he hadn't no wife."</p> + +<p>Rob and Nelly had listened silently with wide-open eyes +and ears to this conversation; but at this last statement +Rob's curiosity got the better of him.</p> + +<p>"What is baching it?" said he, as they drove off.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span></p> + +<p>The man laughed.</p> + +<p>"Ask your father: he'll tell you," he said.</p> + +<p>"What is it, papa?" said Rob.</p> + +<p>"I suppose it is for a man to live all alone, without any +wife. You know they call unmarried men 'old bachelors,' +after they get to be thirty or thirty-five. But I never heard +the word before."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" said Rob; "is that all? I thought 'twas a trade +he had,—or something he sold or made."</p> + +<p>"Well," said the Deacon; "any man that could live up +here in this stone gully, without his wife along, I don't +think much of. It's the lonesomest place, for an out-doors +place, that ever I saw."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I think it's splendid!" said Rob.</p> + +<p>"So do I," said Nelly. "It's perfectly beautiful!"</p> + +<p>"Ain't it a comfort, Mrs. March," said Mrs. Plummer, +"how children always do take to new places?"</p> + +<p>"We don't either," cried Rob; "I hate some places I've +seen. But this is splendid. Just you look at those rocks: +you bet I'll pitch 'em down! I'm going up on to every one +of the highest rocks I can find."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Rob! you'll break your neck," said Mrs. March. +"I shall not allow you to climb, unless your father is with +you."</p> + +<p>"Now, mamma"—Rob was beginning when, suddenly +catching sight of a house, he exclaimed:—</p> + +<p>"There 'tis! That's like the picture. And there's the +barn! I saw it first! Oh, hurry! hurry!" And in his +excitement Rob stood up in the wagon.</p> + +<p>Yes, there it was. It had looked better in the photograph +which Mr. Garland had showed to Mr. March than it did +in reality. It was a small, unpainted pine house; without +any piazza or blinds. The windows were small; the front +door was very small; there was no fence between it and the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> +road; and all the ground around it had been left wild. It +was really a desolate-looking place.</p> + +<p>"Why, there isn't any yard!" exclaimed Nelly.</p> + +<p>"Yard!" said her mother; "why, it is <i>all</i> yard, child. +As far as you can see in every direction, it is all our yard."</p> + +<p>Mrs. March's heart had really sunk within her at the +sight of the place. The house was nothing more than she +would have called a shanty at home; but she was resolved, +no matter what happened to them, never to let her husband +see that she found any thing hard. So she spoke cheerfully +about the yard; and, as they were getting out of the wagon, +she said:—</p> + +<p>"How nice and open it is here! See, Robert, the sun is +still an hour high, I should think. This is a lovely place."</p> + +<p>Mr. March shook his head. He did not like the appearance +of things. Mrs. Plummer had bustled ahead into the +house. In a moment she came back, followed by a man. +This was the man who had been left by Mr. Garland in +charge of the house, and who was to stay and work for +Mr. March.</p> + +<p>"Bless my eyes!" he exclaimed; "you've took me by +surprise. I hain't had no letter from Garland. He said +he'd write and let me know when you'd be up. I calculated +to have spruced up considerable before you come in. We've +bached it here so long 'tain't much of a place for wimmen +folks to come to."</p> + +<p>"Oh, never mind!" said Mrs. March; "Mr."—she +hesitated for a name; "I don't think I've heard your +name—"</p> + +<p>"Zeb, ma'am; Zeb's my name. Don't go by any other +name since I've been in these mountains," said the man, +pulling off his old woollen cap, and making an awkward +bow to Mrs. March, whose pleasant smile and voice had +won his liking at once.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Never mind, then, Zeb," Mrs. March continued: "we +have not come expecting to find things as we had them at +home. We shall call it a picnic all the time."</p> + +<p>"Well, that's about what it is, mum, most generally in +this country's fur's I've seen it," said Zeb, thinking at that +moment, with a dreadful misgiving, that he had no meat in +the house, except salt pork; and no bread at all. He had +intended to make some soda biscuit for his own supper. +"But she looks like jest one o' them kind that can't abide +soda," thought poor Zeb to himself. "An' where in thunder +be they all to sleep?" he continued; "Garland might +ha' known better than to let six folks come down on me, this +way, without any warnin'. 'Twas mighty unconsiderate of +him! However, 'tain't none o' my business. I don't keep +no hotel."</p> + +<p>While Zeb was pursuing this uncomfortable train of +thought, he was helping Deacon Plummer and Mr. March +unharness the horses; he seemed silent, and, Mr. March +thought, surly; but it was in reality only his distress at not +being able to make the family more comfortable. Finally +he spoke.</p> + +<p>"Did Garland tell you he'd written?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes!" said Mr. March; "he said he'd written, and +you would be looking out for us."</p> + +<p>"Well, perhaps he wrote, and perhaps he didn't. It's as +likely as not he didn't. At any rate, if he did, the letter's +down in that Manitou post-office. I hain't never seen it: +an' I may as well tell you first as last, that I ain't no ways +ready for ye. There ain't but two beds in the whole house. +I was a calculatin' to bring up one more from the Springs +next week; an' I hain't got much in the way of provisions, +either, except for the hosses. There's plenty of oats, an' +that's about all there is plenty of."</p> + +<p>Deacon Plummer and Mr. March were standing in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span> +barn door: the Deacon thrust his hands deep down in his +pockets and whistled. Mr. March looked at Zeb's face. +The more he studied it, the better he liked it.</p> + +<p>"Zeb," said he, "we can stay, somehow, can't we? We +men can sleep on the hay for a few nights, if the sleeping's +all. What have you really got in the way of food? That's +the main thing."</p> + +<p>It pleased Zeb to have Mr. March say "we men." "I +guess he's got some stuff in him, if he is a parson," thought +Zeb; and his face brightened as he replied:</p> + +<p>"Well, if you can sleep on the hay, it's all right about +the sleepin'; but I didn't reckon you could. But that's only +part o' the trouble. However, I can jump on to a hoss and +ride down to Manitou and pick up suthin', if the wimmen +folks think they can get along."</p> + +<p>"Get along! of course we can get along!" exclaimed Mrs. +March, who had just come out in search of her husband. +"There is an iron pot and a tea-kettle and a frying-pan and +a barrel of flour and a firkin of Graham meal; what more +do we want?" and she laughed merrily.</p> + +<p>"Hens, mamma, hens! There are lots of hens here!" +shouted Rob, coming up at full speed; "and see this splendid +shepherd dog! He knows me already! See! he follows +me!" and Rob held his hand high up in the air to a beautiful +black and white shepherd dog who was running close +behind him.</p> + +<p>"Yes; Watch, he's real friendly with everybody," said +Zeb. "He's lots o' company, Watch is. He knows more'n +most folks. Here, Watch! give us your paw?"</p> + +<p>The dog lifted one paw and held it out.</p> + +<p>"No, not that one—the white one!" said Zeb.</p> + +<p>Watch dropped the black paw, and held up the white one +instantly.</p> + +<p>"He'll do that just's often's you'll ask him," said Zeb;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span> +"an' it's a mighty queer thing for a dog to know black from +white."</p> + +<p>"Oh! let me try him?" said Rob, "Here, Watch! +Watch!" Watch ran to Rob at once.</p> + +<p>"He does take to you, that's a fact," said Zeb.</p> + +<p>"Give your paw, Watch,—your white paw," said Rob.</p> + +<p>Watch put his white paw in Rob's hand.</p> + +<p>"Now your black paw," said Rob.</p> + +<p>Watch put down his white paw and lifted the other.</p> + +<p>"White, black!—white, black!" said Rob, as fast as he +could pronounce the words; and, just as fast as he said +them, the dog held up his paws.</p> + +<p>At this moment, Nelly appeared, her cheeks very red, +carrying a little yellow and white puppy in her arms.</p> + +<p>"Oh! see this dear little puppy!" she said; "doesn't he +just match Pumpkinseed?"</p> + +<p>"We might call him Pumpkin Blossom," said Mrs. +March.</p> + +<p>"His name's Trotter," said Zeb. "He's jest got it +learned: I guess you can't change it very easy. Put him +down, miss, and I'll show you what he can do. I hain't +taught him much yet; he's such a pup: but there's nothin' +he can't learn. Trotter, roll over!"</p> + +<p>The puppy lay down instantly and rolled over and over. +"Faster!" said Zeb.</p> + +<p>Trotter rolled faster. "Faster! faster! fast as you can!" +cried Zeb; and Trotter rolled so fast that you could hardly +see his legs or his tail; he looked like a round ball of yellow +hair, with two bright eyes in it.</p> + +<p>Nelly and Rob shouted with laughter, and even Mr. +March and Deacon Plummer laughed hard. They had been +so busy that they had not observed that it was growing +dark. Suddenly Zeb looked up, and said:—</p> + +<p>"Ye'd better run in: it's going to be a snow flurry."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span></p> + +<p>"A snow flurry!" exclaimed Mrs. March, looking up +at the bright blue sky overhead. "Where's the snow to +come from?"</p> + +<p>"Out o' that cloud, mum," replied Zeb, pointing to a +black cloud just coming up over the top of the hill to the +west. "'T'll be here in less than five minutes; mebbe 't'll +be hail: reckon 't will."</p> + +<p>Sure enough, in less than five minutes the cloud had +spread over their heads, and the hail began to fall. They +all stood at the windows and watched it. Rattle, rattle, it +came on the roof and against the west windows, and the +hailstones bounded off from every place they hit, and rolled +about on the ground like marbles. At first they were very +small: not bigger than pins' heads; but larger and larger +ones came every minute, until they were as big as large +plums. Rob and Nelly had never seen such hailstones; they +were half frightened, and yet the sight was so beautiful to +watch, that they enjoyed it. The storm did not last more +than ten minutes; the hailstones grew smaller again, just as +they had grown larger; and then they came slower and +slower, till they stopped altogether, and the great black +cloud rolled off toward the south and left the sky clear blue +above their heads, just as it was before; and the sun shone +out, and every thing glistened like silver from the boughs +of the trees down to the blades of grass. The great hailstones +were piled up in all the hollow places of the ground, +but the hot sun shining on them began to melt them immediately; +and, except where they were in the shadow of rocks +or trees or piles of boards, they did not last long. Nelly +picked up a tin pan and ran out and filled it in a minute: +then she passed them round to everybody, saying: "Won't +you have some sugared almonds?" and they all ate them +and pretended they were candy; and Rob and Nelly rolled +them away from the doorstep and made Trotter run after<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> +them. In less than ten minutes after the storm had passed, +it was so warm that they were all standing in the open doorway, +or walking about out of doors.</p> + +<p>"Upon my word, what a country this is!" said Mr. +March. "Ten minutes ago it was winter; now it is +spring."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Zeb. "That's jest the way 'tis all through +the winter; but next month ye'll get some winter in good +airnest. April 'n' May's our winter months. I've seen the +snow a foot 'n' a half deep in this Pass in May."</p> + +<p>"What!" exclaimed Mr. March, now really excited. +"A foot and a half of snow! What becomes of the cattle +then?"</p> + +<p>"Oh!" said Zeb, "it never lays long: not over a day or +two. This sun'll melt snow's quick's a fire'll melt grease, 'n' +quicker."</p> + +<p>"Then I suppose it is very muddy," said Mrs. March.</p> + +<p>"No, mum, never no mud to speak of; sometimes a little +stretch of what they call adobe land'll be putty muddy for +a week or so; but's a general thing the roads are dry in a +day; in fact, you'll often see the ground white with a little +sprinkle of snow at eight o'clock in the morning, and by +twelve you'll see the roads dry, except along the edges: the +snow jest kind o' goes off in the air here; it don't seem's if +it melted into water at all."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'll give it up!" said the Deacon; "near's I can +make out, this country's a conundrum."</p> + +<p>Mrs. March and Mrs. Plummer now set themselves to +work in good earnest to put the little house in order. They +had brought with them only what they could carry in valises +and hand-bags: all their boxes and trunks were to come in +a big wagon the next day; so there was not much unpacking +to be done. The house had only five rooms in it: one +large room, which was to be used as the kitchen and dining-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span>room +and living-room; three small rooms which were for +bedrooms; and another room which had been used as a +lumber-room. As soon as Mrs. March looked into this +room, she resolved to make it into a little sitting-room by +and by. It had one window to the east, which looked out +on the brook, and one to the south, which had a most beautiful +view down the Pass. These rooms had no plaster on +the walls, and the boards were very rough; but the Colorado +pine is such a lovely shade of yellow that rooms built of +bare boards are really prettier than most of the rooms you +see which have paper on them.</p> + +<p>Poor Mrs. Plummer thought these bare boards were +dreadful. She worked on, industriously, helping Mrs. +March do all she could; but every few minutes she would +give a great sigh, and look up at the walls, or down at the +floor, and say:—</p> + +<p>"Well, Mrs. March! I never did expect to see you come +to this."</p> + +<p>Mr. March also wore rather a long face as he stood in +the doorway and watched his wife.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Sarah!" he said, at last, "I can't bear to have you +work like this. I didn't realize it was going to be just such +a place. I shall go to the Springs to-morrow and get a +servant for you."</p> + +<p>"You won't do any such thing, Robert," said Mrs. +March. "There's no room for a servant to sleep in; and +I don't want one, any way. Mrs. Plummer will give me all +the help I need; and Rob and Nelly will help too. Look at +Rob now!" At that minute, Rob came puffing and panting +in at the door, with his arms full of crooked sticks, stems +of vines, and all sorts of odds and ends of drift-wood, which +he had picked up on the edge of the brook.</p> + +<p>"Here's kindling wood, mamma; lots of it. Zeb told +me where to get it. There's lots and lots all along the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span> +brook." And he threw down his armful on the hearth, and +was going back for more.</p> + +<p>"Dear boy! here is enough, and more than enough," +said Mrs. March. "You can bring me some water next; +we dip it out of the brook, I suppose."</p> + +<p>"Now, mamma, that's just all you know about it," +replied Rob, with a most exultant air of superiority; +"there's just the nicest spring, right across the brook, only +a little bit of ways. Zeb showed me; you come and see,—there's +a bridge."</p> + +<p>Mrs. March followed him. Sure enough, there was a +nice, fresh spring, bubbling up out of the ground, among +the bushes; it was walled around with boards a few feet +high, so that the cattle should not trample too close to it; a +narrow plank was laid across the brook just opposite it; +and it was twenty steps from the house.</p> + +<p>"See, mamma," said Rob, as he dipped in the pail, and +drew it out dripping full, "see how nice this is. I can bring +you all the water you want."</p> + +<p>"Take care! take care, Rob!" shouted his father, as Rob +stepped back on the plank. He was too late. Rob in his +excitement had stepped a little to one side of the middle of +the plank; it tipped; he lost his balance, and over he went, +pail of water and all, into the brook. The brook was not +deep, and he scrambled out again in less than a minute,—much +mortified and very wet. Mrs. March could not help +laughing.</p> + +<p>"Well, you helped fill the brook instead of my pail; +didn't you?" she said.</p> + +<p>"But, mamma, I haven't got any dry clothes," said poor +Rob: "what'll I do?"</p> + +<p>"That's a fact, Rob," said his mother. "You'll have to +go to bed while these dry."</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear!" said Rob; "that's too bad!" And he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> +walked very disconsolately toward the house. Zeb was just +riding off, with two empty sacks hanging from his saddle +pommel.</p> + +<p>"Zeb," called Rob; "I tumbled in the brook; and I've +got to go to bed till my clothes are dry."</p> + +<p>"Don't you do no such a thing," cried Zeb; "you jest +walk round a leetle lively, and your clothes'll be dry afore +ye know it. Water don't wet ye much in this country."</p> + +<p>"Come, now, Zeb," said the Deacon, "let's draw a line +somewhere! That's a little too big a story. I can believe +ye about the snow's not making mud, because I've seen these +hailstones just melt away into nothin' in half an hour; but +when it comes to water's not wettin', I can't go that."</p> + +<p>"Well, you just feel of me now!" shouted Rob; "I'm +half dry already!"</p> + +<p>The Deacon and Mrs. March both felt Rob's arms and +shoulders.</p> + +<p>"Pon my word, they ain't so very wet," said the Deacon; +"was it only just now you tumbled in?"</p> + +<p>"Not five minutes ago," said Mrs. March.</p> + +<p>"It is certainly the queerest thing I ever saw," she continued, +feeling Rob from his shoulders to his ankles: "he +is really, as he says, half dry. I'll try Zeb's advice. Rob, +run up and down the road as hard as you can for ten minutes; +don't you stand still at all."</p> + +<p>Rob raced away, with Watch at his heels, and Mr. and +Mrs. March walked into the house, Mr. March carrying the +pail filled once more with the nice spring water. In a few +minutes, as they were busily at work, they heard a sound +at the door: they looked up; there stood a white cow, looking +in on them with a mild expression of surprise.</p> + +<p>"Oh!" said Mr. March, "Zeb said the cows'd be coming +home pretty soon. The Deacon and I'll have to milk."</p> + +<p>"Yes, they're a comin'," called out the Deacon, peering<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span> +over the back of the white cow, and pushing her gently to +one side, so that he could enter the door; "they're a comin' +down the road, and down the hill up there back o' the sawmill: +I jest wish ye'd come and look at 'em. Don't know as +ye'd better, either, if ye want to have a good appetite for +your supper! If ever ye see Pharaoh's lean kine, ye'll see +'em now."</p> + +<p>Mr. and Mrs. March and Mrs. Plummer all ran out and +stood in front of the house, looking up the road. There +came the cows, one, two, three, all in single file, down the +hill, now and then stopping to take a nibble by the way; in +the road there were half a dozen more, walking straight on, +neither turning to the right nor the left.</p> + +<p>"That's right, ye poor things: make for the barn; I +would if I was you. Perhaps I won't feed you a good feed +o' hay 'n' corn-meal to-night, sure's my name's Plummer!" +The cows were indeed lean: you could count every rib on +their bodies, and their hip bones stuck out like great ploughshares.</p> + +<p>"What a shame!" exclaimed Mrs. March. "Husband, +you were imposed upon. These cows are not worth any +thing."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes they be; they're first-rate stock," said the +Deacon; "first-rate stock, only they're so run down. Ye'll +see I'll have 'em so fat in four weeks ye won't know 'em."</p> + +<p>The cows gathered together in a little group between the +two barns, and looked very hard at these strangers they had +never seen before. They knew very well that something +had happened,—they missed Zeb,—and began to low +uneasily; but when Deacon Plummer came out of the barn +with a big pitchfork full of hay, and threw it down before +them, all their anxieties were allayed. These were good +friends who had come: there was no doubt of that. Nine +times the Deacon brought out his pitchfork full of hay, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span> +threw it on the ground, one for each cow: and didn't they +fall to and eat!</p> + +<p>"H'm!" said the Deacon, as he watched them. "If this +is the result of your fine winter grazin', I don't want any +thing to do with it. It's just slow starvation to my way o' +thinking. Look at them udders! There ain't a quart apiece +in 'em. Our milkin' 'll be soon over, Parson."</p> + +<p>"The sooner the better for me, Deacon," laughed Mr. +March. "I never did like to milk."</p> + +<p>"Oh! let me milk! let me milk, papa! please do!" cried +Rob, who had returned from his ten minutes' run on the +road, as dry as ever.</p> + +<p>"And me, too! me too!" said Nelly, who was close +behind.</p> + +<p>"Not to-night, children. It is late, and we are in a +hurry," said Mr. March. Just as he spoke, the sun sank +behind the hill. Almost instantly, a chill fell on the air.</p> + +<p>"Bless me," said Mr. March, "here we have winter +again. Run in, children; it is growing too cold for you to +be out. What a climate this is, to be sure! one can't keep +up with it."</p> + +<p>While Deacon Plummer and Mr. March were milking, +they talked over their prospects. They were forced to +acknowledge that there was small chance of making a living +on this farm.</p> + +<p>"We're took in: that's all there is on't," said the Deacon, +cheerily; "but I reckon we can grub along for six months; +we can live that long even if we don't make a cent; and now +we're here, we can look about for ourselves, and see what +we're gettin' before we make another move."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Mr. March. "That's the only way to do. +I confess I am disappointed. Mr. Garland seemed such a +fair man."</p> + +<p>The Deacon laughed. "Ye don't know human nature,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span> +Parson, the way we men do that's knockin' round all the +time among folks. Ye see folks always comes to you when +they're in trouble, or else when they're joyful,—bein' married, +or a baptizin' their babies,—or somethin' o' ruther +that's out o' the common line; so you don't never see 'em +jest exactly's they are. Now I kinder mistrusted that Garland +from the fust. He was too anxious to sell, to suit me. +When a man's got a first-rate berth, he ain't generally so +ready to quit."</p> + +<p>When the milkers went in with their pails of milk, they +found a blazing fire on the hearth, and supper set out on a +red pine table without any table-cloth. Mrs. March had +made Graham biscuit and white biscuit, and had baked some +apples which she had left in her lunch-basket. When she +saw the milk, she exclaimed:—</p> + +<p>"Now, if this isn't a supper fit for a king!—bread and +milk and baked apples!"</p> + +<p>"Ain't there any butter?" called out Rob.</p> + +<p>"Yes, there is some butter; but I doubt if you will eat +it," said Mrs. March. "Zeb is going to buy some better +butter at Manitou."</p> + +<p>Rob put some of the butter on his bread, and put a +mouthful of the bread in his mouth. In less than a second, +he had clapped his hand over his mouth with an expression +of horror.</p> + +<p>"Oh, what'll I do, mamma? it's worse than medicine!" +he cried; and swallowed the whole mouthful at one gulp. +"That can't be butter, mamma," he said. "You've made +a mistake. It'll poison us: it's something else."</p> + +<p>"Little you know about bad butter, don't you, Rob?" +said Deacon Plummer, calmly buttering his biscuit, and +eating it. "I've eaten much worse butter than this."</p> + +<p>Rob's eyes grew big. "What'd you eat it for?" he said, +earnestly.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Sure enough," said Mrs. Plummer. "That's what I've +always said about butter. If there's any thing else set +before folks that's bad, why they just leave it alone. There +isn't any need ever of eating what you don't like. But when +it comes to butter, folks seem to think they've got to eat it, +good, bad, or indifferent."</p> + +<p>"That's so," said the Deacon; "and if I've heard you +say so once, Elizy, I've heard you say it a thousand times; +I don't know how 'tis, but it does seem as if you had to have +somethin' in shape o' butter, if it's ever so bad, to make a +meal go down."</p> + +<p>"I don't see how bad butter helps to make a meal go +down," said Rob. "It like to have made mine come up +just now."</p> + +<p>"Rob, Rob!" said his mother, reprovingly; "you forget +that we are at supper."</p> + +<p>"Excuse me, mamma," said Rob, penitently; "but it +was true."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER VI</h2> + +<h4>LIFE AT GARLAND'S</h4> + + +<p>This was the first night of the Marches and Plummers +in their strange new home in Colorado. When they waked +up the next morning, Mr. March and Deacon Plummer +rolled up in buffalo robes on the hay in the barn, Mrs. March +and Nelly in one bed in one little bedroom, Mrs. Plummer +in another opening out of it, and Rob on an old black leather +sofa in the kitchen, they could hardly believe their eyes as +they looked around them. They all got up very early, and +now their new life had begun in good earnest. Immediately +after breakfast, Mr. March drove away in the big +wagon with Fox and Pumpkinseed. He would not tell his +wife where he was going, nor take any one with him. The +truth was, that in the night Mr. March had taken two resolutions: +one was that he would get a servant for Mrs. March; +the other was that he would buy furniture enough to make +the house pleasant and comfortable, and china enough to +make their table look a little like their old home table. But +he knew if he told Mrs. March what he meant to do, she +would think they ought not to spend the money. All their +own pretty china which they had used at home, she had +packed up and left behind them, saying: "We shall not +want any thing of that kind in Colorado." Mrs. March did +not care about such things half so much as Mr. March and +Nelly did; that is, she could do without them more easily. +She liked pretty things very much, but she could do without +them very well if it were necessary. She watched Mr.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span> +March driving off down the road this morning with an +uneasy feeling.</p> + +<p>"I don't know what Mr. March's got in his head," she +said to Mrs. Plummer; "but I think he is going to do something +rash. He looks as children do when they are in some +secret mischief."</p> + +<p>"Why, what could it be?" said good Mrs. Plummer. +"I don't see what there is for him to do."</p> + +<p>"Well, we shall see," said Mrs. March. "I wish I'd +made him take me along."</p> + +<p>"Made him!" exclaimed Mrs. Plummer. "Can you +make him do any thing he's sot not to? I hain't never been +able to do that with Mr. Plummer, not once in all the thirty +years I've lived with him. It's always seemed to me that +men was the obstinatest critters made, even the best on 'em; +an' I'm sure Mr. Plummer's as good a man's ever was born; +but I don't no more think o' movin' him if his mind's made +up, than I should think o' movin' that rock up there," pointing +to a huge rock which was at the top of one of the hills +to the southwest of the house.</p> + +<p>The day flew by quickly in putting their new home in +order. Both Mrs. March and Mrs. Plummer worked very +hard, and Rob and Nelly helped them. They swept and +washed floors; they washed windows; they washed even the +chairs and tables,—which sadly needed it, it must be +owned. Rob and Nelly enjoyed it all as a frolic.</p> + +<p>"This is like last Christmas, when Sarah was drunk: +isn't it, mamma?" said Rob. "It's real fun."</p> + +<p>"Don't you wish Sarah was here to help you, mamma?" +said Nelly.</p> + +<p>"No, dear," replied Mrs. March, "I do not. I would +rather do all the work ourselves, and save the money."</p> + +<p>"Are we very, very, very poor, mamma?" said Nelly, +with a distressed face.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, no, dear! not so bad as that," laughed Mrs. March; +"but papa's salary has all stopped now, as I explained to +you; and that was the greater part of our income: and, till +we have more money coming in regularly from something +out here, we must spend just as little as possible."</p> + +<p>Just before dinner, Rob came in with a big armful of +kindling-wood, and on the top of the wood he carried a +long piece of a beautiful green vine.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Rob, Rob, let me see that! Where did you find +it?" said his mother.</p> + +<p>"Upon the hills, mamma, back of the saw-mill. There's +oceans of it up there."</p> + +<p>"There <i>is</i> oceans, Rob?" said his mother.</p> + +<p>"There <i>are</i> oceans, then! You knew what I meant. It's +just like a carpet; and you can pull up great, long pieces of +it: it comes up just as easy as any thing."</p> + +<p>Mrs. March turned the vine over and over in her hands. +It had a small glossy leaf, like the leaf of the box. Some +of the long, slender tendrils of it were bright red.</p> + +<p>"The leaf is so thick I think it would keep a long time," +said Mrs. March. "I wish you and Nelly would bring me +several armfuls of it. I'll tack it up all round the room: +the walls won't look so bare, then."</p> + +<p>"Oh, goody!" said the children; "that's just like +Christmas." And they ran off as fast as they could go. In +an hour they had heaped the whole floor with piles of the +vine. The more they brought, the more beautiful it looked: +the leaves shone like satin, and there were great mats of it +nearly two yards long. Mrs. March had never seen it +before, and did not know its name. Afterward she found +out that it was the kinnikinnick vine, and that the Indians +used it to smoke in their pipes. Some of the branches had +beautiful little red berries like wintergreen berries on them.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> +Nelly sorted these all out by themselves; then Mrs. March +stood up on a chair, and some of the time on a table, and +nailed a thick border of these vines all round the top of the +room; then she took the branches which had red berries on +them; and, wherever there was an upright beam in the wall, +she nailed on one of these boughs with the red berries and +let it hang down just as it would. Then she trimmed the +fireplace and the door and the windows. It took her about +two hours to do it. When it was all done, you would hardly +have known the room. It looked lovely: the yellow pine +boards looked much prettier with the green of the vines than +any paper in the world could have looked. Rob and Nelly +fairly danced with delight.</p> + +<p>"Oh, mamma! mamma! it's prettier than any Christmas +we ever had: isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Mrs. March; "if the vines will only last, it +is all we need to keep our walls pretty till summer time."</p> + +<p>"Well, I never!" said Zeb, who came in at that moment. +"If wimmen folks don't beat all! Why, mum, ye look's if +you was goin' to have an ice-cream festival."</p> + +<p>Zeb's only experience of rooms decorated with green +vines had been when he had attended ice-cream festivals, +given by churches to raise money.</p> + +<p>"Well, we'll have one some day, Zeb," said Mrs. March, +laughing; "and we won't charge you any thing. I can +make very good ice-cream."</p> + +<p>"Oh, to-night! to-night! mamma," exclaimed the +children.</p> + +<p>"Can't to-night," Mrs. March said; "for the freezer's +in the big box with all the other kitchen things."</p> + +<p>"I might make some crullers," said Mrs. Plummer.</p> + +<p>"Do! do! do!" cried Rob. "Mrs. Plummer's famous +for crullers!" And he ran off, singing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span>—</p> + + + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align="center">"Plummer!</td></tr> +<tr><td align="center"> Cruller!</td></tr> +<tr><td align="center">Plummer!</td></tr> +<tr><td align="center"> Cruller!"</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p>at the top of his lungs.</p> + +<p>It was nearly dark before Mr. March returned. Rob +was the first to spy him.</p> + +<p>"Why, there's Pumpkinseed!" he exclaimed. "And +what in the world's papa got in the wagon?" And he ran +down the road to meet him. All the others ran too. The +wagon did indeed present a very singular appearance. Four +red wooden legs stuck far out in front; Mr. March was +wedged in between them; high above his head bulged out a +great roll of bolsters and pillows; and as far as you could +see, away back in the wagon, there seemed to be nothing but +bed-ticking, and legs of furniture.</p> + +<p>"Mercy on us!" exclaimed Mrs. March; "What did I +tell you, Mrs. Plummer? That's what he went off for,—to +buy furniture. Mr. March always must have things just +right. Dear me! I wish he hadn't done it."</p> + +<p>But, as I told you long ago, it was Mrs. March's way +always to make the best of what couldn't be helped. So she +went forward to welcome her husband as pleasantly as if +she were delighted to see all this new furniture.</p> + +<p>"Ah, Robert," she said, "now I know why you wouldn't +take me. You wanted to surprise us all."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Mr. March, his face beaming all over with +satisfaction, "I didn't mean you should spend another night +in such a desolate hole. There's another wagon load +behind."</p> + +<p>At this Mrs. March could not help groaning.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Robert! Robert!" she said, "what did you buy so +much for?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, part of the other load is feed for the cattle," said<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> +Mr. March. "That I'm responsible to Deacon Plummer +for. Those were his orders."</p> + +<p>When the two wagons were unloaded, the space in front +of the little house looked like an auction. Rob and Nelly +ran from one thing to another, exclaiming and shouting. +Mr. March had indeed furnished the whole house. He +had bought two pretty little single bedsteads for Rob and +Nelly, and a fine large bedstead for himself and Mrs. +March; he had bought mattresses and pillows and bolsters +and blankets; a whole piece of pretty rag-carpet, in gray +and red stripes; two large rocking-chairs with arms, two +without, and two small low chairs; a work-table with +drawers, two bureaus, a wardrobe, and two sets of book-shelves +to hang on the walls; two student lamps, and a +table with leaves that could open out. Then he had bought +a whole piece of pretty chintz in stripes of black and green.</p> + +<p>"There, wife," he said, as he showed her this, last of +all, "now we can make a decent little home out of it, after +a few days."</p> + +<p>As he spoke, he stepped into the kitchen: he started back +with surprise.</p> + +<p>"Why, how perfectly lovely!" he exclaimed; "where +did you get it? And what is it? I never saw a place so +transformed. Why, it looks even elegant."</p> + +<p>"I thought you would like it," said Mrs. March, much +pleased. "Perhaps if you had seen it so before you went +away, you wouldn't have bought so many new things."</p> + +<p>"Why, Sarah, I haven't bought a thing that wasn't +absolutely necessary," said Mr. March.</p> + +<p>"They are all very nice, dear," replied Mrs. March; +"and of course we shall be much more comfortable with +them. It was very kind of you. But haven't you spent a +great deal of money?" she asked anxiously.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no!" said Mr. March, "I think not; though things<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span> +are much higher here than at home. I didn't get the bills; +but I don't believe it's over two hundred dollars."</p> + +<p>This seemed a great deal to Mrs. March; but she said no +more. And the next day, when all the things were +arranged, a square of the rag-carpet laid on the floor, and +the pretty chintz curtains at the window, she could not help +admitting to herself that life looked much easier and pleasanter +than it had before.</p> + +<p>"And I ought to be thankful that he did not buy more," +she thought; "and that he could not find a servant to bring +out here."</p> + +<p>On inquiring after servants, Mr. March had found that +it was almost impossible to get any good ones; and their +wages were so high, he had at once given up all idea of +hiring one now.</p> + +<p>"I'll let you try it, Sarah, for the present," he said, "but, +if I see you in the least breaking down, I shall have a +servant, if I have to send home for one."</p> + +<p>"I won't break down," said Mrs. March; "I never felt +so well in my life. I am never tired. I suppose it is the +air."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Mr. March; "it must be. I, too, feel like +another man. I can draw such full, long breaths; I +shouldn't know there was such a thing as asthma in the +world."</p> + +<p>As day after day went on, they all came to like their new +home better and better. The little room which had been a +lumber room was made into a sitting-room, and trimmed +all round with the kinnikinnick vines; the big table with +leaves stood in the centre, and the book-shelves hung on +the walls. Zeb and Deacon Plummer built pine shelves +across one end of the room, way to the top; these were +filled with Mr. March's books. There were two small +school-desks by the east window; and at these Rob and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span> +Nelly sat for two hours every morning, and studied and +recited their lessons to Mr. March. In the afternoon, they +played out of doors; they climbed the hills and the rocks; +and, at four o'clock, they went after the cows. This was +something they were never tired of, because they never +knew just where they should find the cows: they rambled +into so many little nooks and corners among the hills; but +three of the cows had bells on their necks, and the rest +never went far from them. Watch always went with Rob +and Nelly, and he seemed to have a wonderful instinct to +tell where to look for a cow. Whenever it stormed too +much for the children to be out, Zeb went. Sometimes +Watch went all alone. He could bring the cows home as +well as anybody. But Nelly and Rob never liked to miss +it. It was the great pleasure of their day; and the out-door +air and the exercise were making them brown and strong. +They looked like little Italian peasant children: wherever +they went they sang; up hill and down, and on the tops of +the highest rocks, their merry voices rang out. Felix—that +Frenchman I told you about that they saw in the cars, +the one who was servant to the English gentleman—had +taught Rob how to make the cry which the Swiss hunters +make in the Alps. It is called the "Jodel"—and it sounds +very fine among high hill-tops. It is something like this:—</p> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 475px;"> +<img src="images/illus02.jpg" width="475" height="675" alt="Rob jodels" title="Rob jodels" /> +<span class="caption">He would ring out such a "jodel", that the people +would stop and look up amazed. Page 132.</span> +</div> + + +<p>"Yo-ho! yo-ho! yo-ho!" The syllables are pronounced +one after the other just as fast as you can, in a high shrill +tone, and there is a sort of tune to it which I could not +describe; but perhaps you know some traveller who has +been in Switzerland, who can describe it to you. Rob used +to "jodel" beautifully; and many a time when he was on +a high rock, way up above the road, and saw people riding +or driving below him, he would ring out such a "jodel," +that the people would stop and look up amazed. They could +not believe they were in America. Rob was fast growing +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span>as strong and well as Nelly. He never had sore throats +here: and Mr. and Mrs. March often said that they would +be glad they had come to Colorado, if it were for nothing +except that it had made Rob so well. As he grew stronger, +he grew to be a much better boy. He was not selfish nor +cross as he used to be at home; and he was as full of fun +as a squirrel, all day long. One thing he very much +enjoyed doing, was taking Fox and Pumpkinseed up to the +tops of the high hills to graze. The best grass grew very +high up on the hills; but neither Fox nor Pumpkinseed had +ever been used to such steep hills, and they both hated to +climb them. Deacon Plummer was very droll about it. +"Don't blame 'em," said he, "don't blame 'em a mite. +Who'd want to be for ever climbing up garret to get a +mouthful of something to eat?" However, since the food +was chiefly "up garret," as the Deacon called it, "up garret" +the horses must go; and it was somebody's duty every +morning to lead them up. Often, in the course of the day, +they would ramble slowly down: then they would have to +be taken up again; and Rob was always on the lookout for +a chance to do this. He always took Fox; he was easier +to lead than Pumpkinseed. You had to lead only one: the +other would follow; and it was a funny sight to see Rob +way up on the steep hill, tugging away at Fox's halter, and +Fox half holding back, half going along, and Pumpkinseed +behind, following on slowly with a most disgusted expression, +every now and then stopping short and looking up at +Rob and Fox, as much as to say, "Oh, dear! why will you +drag us up this horrible hill?"</p> + +<p>The hill opposite the house was so high that when Rob +was at the very top of it with the horses, he didn't look +bigger than a "Hop-o'-my-thumb," and the horses looked +like goats. After he got them fairly up, and saw them +grazing contentedly, Rob would run down the hill at full<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span> +speed. At first he got many a tumble flat on his nose doing +this; but after a while he learned how to slant his body +backwards, and then he did not tumble.</p> + +<p>But while Rob and Nelly were growing well and strong, +and having such a good time that they never wanted to go +back to Mayfield, I am sorry to say that the grown people +were not so contented. In the first place, good old Mrs. +Plummer could not sleep. Her cough was all gone; and +if she could only have slept, she would have been as well +as anybody; but her heart beat too fast all the time, and +kept her awake at night. She did not know that she had +any trouble with her heart when she was at home; and +nobody had told them that people with heart-trouble could +not live in Colorado: but that is the case; the air which is +so pure and dry is also so light that it makes your pulse +beat a good many times more a minute, and it takes a good +strong heart to bear this. You know your heart is nothing +but a pump that pumps blood to go through your veins, just +as water goes through pipes all over a house; and the pump +has to be very strong to pump so many strokes a minute as +it does in Colorado. So poor Mrs. Plummer, instead of +growing better, was growing worse; and this made them +all unhappy.</p> + +<p>Then Deacon Plummer and Mr. March had to acknowledge +that they were paying out more money than they took +in, and this worried them both.</p> + +<p>"We've got to get out on't somehow, that's clear and +sartin," said the Deacon. "It won't take very long at this +rate to clear us both out. I hate to give up. I'm sure there +must be better places in the country somewhere for stock +raisin' than this is; but we won't stir till warm weather sets +in. Then we'll look round."</p> + +<p>The last week in April and the first in May were hard +weeks. Snow-storm after snow-storm fell. At one time,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span> +all travel through the Pass was cut off for two days. The +snow lay in great drifts in the narrowest places. In such +weather as this, all the cattle had to be kept in the barns +and yards, and fed; hay was very dear; and as Deacon +Plummer said, "It don't take a critter very long to eat his +own head off, and after it's eaten it off six times over, its +head's on all the same for you to keep a feedin'."</p> + +<p>When June came in, matters brightened. The cows had +plenty of grass, gave good milk, and Mrs. March and Mrs. +Plummer made a good many pounds of butter each week, +which they sold at Manitou without difficulty. Here at last +was a regular source of income; but it was small: "a mere +drop in the bucket," Mrs. March said when she was talking +over matters with Mrs. Plummer. I must tell you how this +butter was made, because it was such a pleasure to Rob and +Nelly to watch it. It was made in a little shed which joined +on to the old saw-mill, and the old saw-mill wheel did the +churning. Wasn't that a funny way? We must give Zeb +the credit of this. He was turning the grindstone one day +for Deacon Plummer to sharpen up his axes. It is very +hard work to turn a grindstone, and Zeb was very tired +before the axes were half ground. Suddenly the thought +popped into his head, "Why shouldn't I make that old +water-wheel turn this grindstone for us?" After dinner +he went up to the saw-mill and looked at it. There was the +old wooden wheel as good as ever; the gate which had shut +the water off and let it on was gone; "but that's easy fixed," +said Zeb, and to work he went; and before sundown, he +had the water-wheel bobbing round again as fast as need +be. The next day he took the grindstone and sunk it in +between two old timbers in a broken place in the floor, just +back of the wheel; then he put a strap round the grindstone +and fastened it to the water-wheel; then he pulled up the +little gate, and let the water in the water-wheel. Hurrah!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span> +round went the water-wheel, and round went the grindstone +keeping exact pace with it! Zeb clapped his knee, +which was the same thing as if he had patted himself on +the shoulder. "Good for you, Abe Mack!" he said. Then +he looked around frightened, to see if anybody had heard +him. No one was near. He drew a long breath. "Lord!" +he said; "to think o' my saying that name out loud after +all this time!" and he wiped his forehead with the back +of his hand. "I'd better be more keerful than that," he +said. "I'll get tracked yet, if I don't look out." Two years +before, in a fight in a mining town a great many miles north +of his present home, Zeb had had the misfortune to kill a +man. He never intended to do such a thing. He really +drew his pistol in self-defence; but he could not prove this, +and he had fled for his life, and had been ever since living +hidden away on this lonely farm in the mountains. He had +intended to go still farther away where there would be no +possibility of his ever being seen by any of the men who +had known him before, but he had fallen so in love with +these hills he could not tear himself away from them. But +he had never told his true name to any one, and when he +pronounced it now the sound of it frightened him almost +as if it had been a sheriff who was calling him by it.</p> + +<p>After dinner, Zeb invited the whole family out to see his +new water-works. They all looked on with interest and +pleasure. Mr. March had often looked at the old mill and +wished he had money enough to put it in order.</p> + +<p>"Well done, Zeb!" he said. "You've turned the old +thing to some account, haven't you? That's a capital idea; +we'll grind knives and axes now for anybody who comes +along."</p> + +<p>"Zeb," said Mrs. March, "can't you make it churn the +butter for you?"</p> + +<p>Zeb was struck by the idea.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Lor, ma'am," he said; "I never heard o' such a thing! +but I don't know why not. I'll try it, sure's my name's—" +he stopped short, and gasped out "Zebulon Craig."</p> + +<p>No one observed his agitation. They were all too busy +watching the grindstone and water-wheel. The next day +and the next, Zeb was seen steadily at work in the saw-mill. +He would not let the children stay with him.</p> + +<p>"Run away! run away!" he said. "I've got a job o' +thinkin' to do: can't think with you youngsters a lookin' +on."</p> + +<p>Rob and Nelly were almost beside themselves with +curiosity.</p> + +<p>"Zeb's making a churn to go by water like the grindstone: +I know he is," said Rob. "It's real mean for him +not to let us see."</p> + +<p>"But, Rob," said the wise Nelly, "he says he can't think +if we're round. He'll show it to us's soon's it's done."</p> + +<p>"I don't care," said Rob; "I want to see how he does +it;" and Rob hovered round the mill perpetually, much to +Zeb's vexation.</p> + +<p>Late in the second afternoon, Zeb called out:—</p> + +<p>"Rob, go fetch me the churn, will you?"</p> + +<p>Rob was only too happy to be admitted into the partnership +on any terms. The churn was quite heavy, but he +rolled it and tugged it to the shed-door. Zeb lifted it over +the threshold: and then Rob saw that there was a long +slender beam fastened to the water-wheel, and reaching half +way across the wall of the shed; an upright beam was fastened +to this, a hole was cut in the shed wall, and another +beam run through this hole, and fastened to the upright +beam on the other side. When the water-wheel turned round +and round, it made this upright beam go up and down. +Zeb took the dasher of the churn and fastened it to this<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span> +beam: up and down, up and down it went, faster than anybody +could churn.</p> + +<p>"Tain't quite long enough," said Zeb. "We'll have to +stand the churn on something." Then he ran back to the +house and asked Mrs. Plummer for some cream. She gave +him about three gallons; he put it into the churn, raised the +churn a little higher, and set the machinery in motion. In +about ten minutes he looked in.</p> + +<p>"It's comin'! it's comin'!" he cried. "Run, call all the +folks, Rob."</p> + +<p>Rob ran, and in a few minutes the whole family were +looking on at this new mode of churning. It worked beautifully; +in fifteen minutes more the butter was made.</p> + +<p>"There!" said Zeb, as he drew up the dasher with great +solid lumps of butter sticking to it. "If that ain't the +easiest churned three gallons o' cream ever I see!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed, Zeb," said Mrs. March, "it is. We +sha'n't dread churning-day any more."</p> + +<p>Mr. March examined the machinery curiously. "Zeb," +he said, "if we had two good iron wheels we could make +shingles here, couldn't we? I believe it would pay to rig +the old place up again."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," said Zeb. "There's nothin' ye can't make +with such a stream o' water's that if ye've got the machinery +to put it to. It's only the machinery that's wantin'. +We've got water power enough here to run a factory."</p> + +<p>You would not have thought so to look at it; the water +did not come right out of the brook; it came through a +wooden pipe, high up on wooden posts. It was taken out +of the brook a mile or two farther up the Pass, where the +ground was a great deal higher than it was here at the +mill. So it came running all the way down through this +pipe, high up above the brook, and when it was let out it +fell with great force. The pipe was quite old now, and it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span> +leaked in many places; in one place there was such a big +leak it made a little waterfall; this water dripping and +falling into the brook beneath made it sound like a shower, +and all the bushes and green things along the edges of the +brook were dripping wet all the time. There was a big +pile of the old sawdust on the edge of the brook; this was +of a bright yellow color: the old saw-mill had fallen so into +decay that three sides of it were open, and it looked hardly +safe to go into it. You had to step carefully from one beam +to another: there was not much of the floor left. But it +was a lovely, cool, shady place, and almost every day some +of the teamsters who were driving heavy teams through the +Pass would stop here to take their lunch at noon: often Rob +and Nelly would go out and talk with them, and carry them +milk to drink. Zeb kept out of sight at such times. He +was always in fear of being seen by somebody who had +known him in the northern country.</p> + +<p>As the summer came on, all sorts of beautiful flowers +appeared along the edges of the brook, in the open clearings, +and even in the crevices of the rocks. Nelly gathered +great bunches of them every morning. She loved flowers +almost as well as she loved mountains. She used to go out +late in the afternoon and gather a huge basketful of all the +kinds she could find,—red and white, and yellow and blue,—then +she would set the basket in the brook and let the +water run through it all night, keeping the stems of the +flowers very wet. In the morning they would look as fresh +as if she had just picked them. Remember this, all of you +little children who love flowers and like to pick them. If +you pick them in the morning, they will wither and never +revive perfectly, no matter how much water you put them +in. Pick them at sundown, and leave them in a great tub +full of water out of doors all night, and in the morning you +can arrange them in bouquets, and they will keep twice as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> +long as they would if you had not left them out of doors all +night. Nelly used to sit on the ground in the open space +west of the saw-mill and arrange her bouquets; sometimes +she would tie up as many as eight or ten in one morning, +and sometimes travellers driving past would call to her and +ask her to sell them: but Nelly would not sell them; she +always gave them away to anybody who loved flowers. +Rob thought she was very foolish. "Nell, why didn't you +take the money?" he would say. "It's just the same to +sell flowers as milk: isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Nelly, "I don't think it is. The flowers are +not ours."</p> + +<p>"Whose are they?" exclaimed Rob.</p> + +<p>"God's," said Nelly, soberly. Rob could not appreciate +Nelly's feeling.</p> + +<p>"Well, what makes you steal 'em, then?" he asked, in +a satirical tone.</p> + +<p>"God likes to have us pick them: I know he does," said +Nelly, earnestly. "He gives them all to us for every summer +as long as we live."</p> + +<p>"Oh, pshaw, Nell!" said Rob. "He don't do any such +thing. They just grow: that's all."</p> + +<p>"Well, papa says that God makes them grow on purpose +for us to see how pretty they are. They aren't of any other +use: they aren't the same as potatoes. And don't you know +the little verse,—</p> + + + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align="left">"'God might have made the earth bring forth</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> Enough for great and small;</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> The oak tree and the cedar tree,</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> Without a flower at all.'</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p>I'm always thinking of that. 'Twould be horrid here if +we didn't have any thing but things to eat."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER VII</h2> + +<h4>A HUNT FOR A SILVER MINE</h4> + + +<p>One morning, early in June, Nelly was sitting out by the +old mill, with her lap full of blue anemones and white +daisies: the anemones were hardly out of their gray cloaks. +The anemones in Colorado come up out of the ground like +crocuses; the buds are rolled up tight in the loveliest little +furry coverings almost like chinchilla fur. I think this is +to keep them warm, <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'beause'">because</ins> they come very early in the +spring, and often there are cold storms after they arrive, +and the poor little anemones are all covered up in snow.</p> + +<p>Nelly heard steps and voices and the trampling of hoofs. +She sprang up, and saw that a large blue wagon, drawn by +eight mules, had just turned in from the road, towards the +brook, and the driver was making ready to camp. He came +towards Nelly, and said, very pleasantly:—</p> + +<p>"Little girl, do your folks live in yonder?" pointing to +the house.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," said Nelly.</p> + +<p>"Do they ever keep folks?"</p> + +<p>"What, sir?" said Nelly.</p> + +<p>"Do they ever keep folks,—keep 'em to board?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no! never," replied Nelly.</p> + +<p>The man looked disappointed. "Well," he said, "I've +got to lie by here a day or two, anyhow. I was in hopes I +could get took in. I'm clean beat out; but I can sleep in +the wagon."</p> + +<p>"My mamma will be glad to do all she can for you if<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span> +you're sick, I'm sure," said Nelly; "but we haven't any +spare room in our house."</p> + +<p>The driver looked at Nelly again. He had once been a +coachman in a gentleman's family at the East, and he knew +by Nelly's voice and polite manner that she was not the +child of any of the common farmers of the country.</p> + +<p>"Have you lived here long?" he said.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no!" replied Nelly: "only since last spring. We +came because my papa was sick. He has the asthma."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" said the man: "I thought so."</p> + +<p>Nelly wondered why the man should have thought her +papa had the asthma; but she did not ask him what he +meant. In a few minutes, the man lay down in his wagon +and fell fast asleep, and Nelly went into the house. After +dinner, she told Rob about the man, and they went out +together to see him. They peeped into the wagon. It was +loaded full of small bits of gray rock: the man was rolled +up in a buffalo robe, lying on top of the stones, still fast +asleep. His face was very red, and he breathed loud.</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear!" said Nelly, "how uncomfortable he must +be! He looks real sick."</p> + +<p>"I bet he's drunk!" said Rob, who had unluckily seen a +good deal of that sort of sickness since he had lived on a +thoroughfare for mule-wagons.</p> + +<p>"Is he?" said Nelly, horror-stricken. "No, Rob, he +can't be, because he talked with me real nice this morning. +Let's go and tell mamma."</p> + +<p>Mr. March went out, looked at the man, and woke him +up. He found that he was indeed ill, and not drunk. The +poor fellow had been five days on the road, with a very +heavy cold; and had taken more cold every night, sleeping +in the open air. Walking all day long in the hot sun had +also made him worse, and he was suffering severely.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Come right into the house with me, my man," said Mr. +March; "my wife'll make you a cup of hot tea."</p> + +<p>"Oh, thank you!" said the man. "I've been thinkin' I'd +give all the ore in this 'ere wagon for a first-rate cup of tea. +I don't never carry tea: only coffee; but I've turned against +coffee these last two days;" and he followed Mr. March +into the house.</p> + +<p>"What'd you say you had in your wagon?" asked Rob, +who had been standing by.</p> + +<p>"Ore," said the man.</p> + +<p>The only word Rob knew which had that sound was +"oar."</p> + +<p>"Oar!" he said. "Why, I didn't see any thing but +rocks."</p> + +<p>Mr. March and the man both laughed.</p> + +<p>"Not 'oar,' to row with, Rob," said Mr. March; "but +'ore,' to make money out of."</p> + +<p>"Silver ore, I suppose," he added, turning to the man.</p> + +<p>"Yes," he said; "from the Moose mine, up on Mount +Lincoln."</p> + +<p>Rob's eyes grew big. "Oh! tell me about it," he said. +And Nelly, coming up closer, exclaimed, in a tone unusually +eager for her, "And me too. Is the mountain made of +silver, like the mountains in fairy stories?"</p> + +<p>The man was drinking his tea, and did not answer. He +drank it in great mouthfuls, though it was scalding hot.</p> + +<p>"Oh, ma'am," he said, "I haven't tasted any thing that +went right to the spot's that does, for months; if it wouldn't +trouble ye too much, I'd like one more cup." He drank the +second cup as quickly as he had the first; then he leaned his +head back in the chair, and said: "I feel like a new man +now. I guess that was the medicine I needed. I reckon I +can go on this afternoon."</p> + +<p>"No," said Mr. March: "you ought to stay here till to-morrow.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span> +There is an old leather-covered settee in the barn +you're welcome to sleep on. It will be better than the +ground; and we'll doctor you with hot tea, night and +morning."</p> + +<p>"You're very kind," said the man: "I don't know but +I'd better stay."</p> + +<p>"Oh, do! do!" said Rob; and "do do!" said Nelly. +"Stay and tell us all about the mountain of silver and the +Moose; does the Moose draw out the silver?"</p> + +<p>You see Rob and Nelly couldn't get it out of their heads +that it was all like a fairy tale. And so it is when you think +of it, more wonderful than almost any fairy tale, to think +how great mountains are full of silver and of gold, and +men can burrow deep down into them, and get out all the +silver and gold they need.</p> + +<p>"Oh, there isn't any real Moose," said the man. "That's +only the name of the mine. I don't know why they called +the mine the Moose mine. They give mines the queerest +kind o' names."</p> + +<p>"What is a mine, anyhow?" asked Rob.</p> + +<p>"Oh," said the man, "I forgot you didn't know that. A +mine's a hole in the ground, or in the side of a mountain, +where they dig out gold or silver. There's mines that's +miles and miles big, underground, with passages running +every way like streets."</p> + +<p>"How do they see down there?" said Rob.</p> + +<p>"They carry lanterns, and there are lanterns fastened up +in the walls."</p> + +<p>"Is your wagon all full of silver?" asked Nelly, in a +low tone.</p> + +<p>"Not exactly all silver yet," the man said, laughing; +"there's a good deal of silver in it: it's very good ore."</p> + +<p>"It looked just like gray rock," said Rob.</p> + +<p>"Well, that's what it is," replied the man; "it's gray<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span> +rock. It's got to be all pounded up fine in a mill, and then +it's got to be roasted with salt in a great oven, and then it's +got to be mixed with chemicals and things. I don't rightly +know just what it is they do to it; it's a heap of work I +know, before it ever gets to be the pure silver."</p> + +<p>"Some day I will take you, Rob," said his father, +"where you can see all this done: I want to see it myself. +Run out, now, you and Nelly, and play, and let the driver +rest. He is too tired to talk any more."</p> + +<p>Rob and Nelly went back to the wagon. All Nelly's +anemones and daisies were lying on the ground, withered. +Even this one short hour of hot sun had been enough to +kill them.</p> + +<p>"Oh, my poor, dear flowers!" said Nelly, picking them +up. "How could I forget you!" and she looked at them +as sorrowfully as if they were little babies she had +neglected.</p> + +<p>"Pooh, Nell," cried Rob. "They're no good now. +Throw them in the brook, and come look at the silver."</p> + +<p>They both climbed up on the tongue of the wagon and +looked in at the front.</p> + +<p>"I can't see any silver about it," said Nelly; "it don't +look like any thing but little gray stones, all broken up +into bits."</p> + +<p>"No," said Rob: "it don't shine much;" and he picked +up a bit and held it out in the sun.</p> + +<p>"Oh, take care! take care, Rob!" cried Nelly. "Don't +lose it; it might be as much as a quarter of a dollar, that +bit."</p> + +<p>"Nell, said Rob, earnestly, "don't you wish papa had a +mine, and we could dig up all the money we wanted? oh, +my!" and Rob drew in his breath in a long whistle.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Nelly: "I mean to look for one. Do you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span> +find the holes already dug, do you suppose? Perhaps that +place where old Molly tumbled in was a mine."</p> + +<p>Old Molly was one of their cows, who had tumbled one +day into a hole made by a slide of earth; and Zeb had had +to go down and tie ropes around her to pull her up.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Rob: "I bet you any thing it is. Let's go +right up there now, and see if we can find some rock like +this. I'll carry this piece in my pocket to tell by. I'll only +borrow it: I'll put it back."</p> + +<p>"Let me carry it then," said Nelly. "I'm so afraid +you'll lose it."</p> + +<p>So Nelly tied the little bit of gray rock in a corner of +her pocket-handkerchief, and then crammed her handkerchief +down tight in her pocket, and they set off at a swift +pace, towards the ravine where Molly had had her unlucky +fall.</p> + +<p>When dinner-time came, the children were nowhere to be +found. Zeb went up and down the brook for a mile, looking +and calling aloud. Watch and Trotter had both disappeared +also.</p> + +<p>"Ye needn't worry so long's the dogs is along, ma'am," +said Zeb, when he returned from his bootless search. "If +they get into any trouble, Watch'll come home and let us +know. He's got more sense'n most men, that dog has."</p> + +<p>But Mrs. March could not help worrying. Never since +they had lived in the Pass had Nelly and Rob gone away +for any long walk without coming and bidding her good-by, +and telling her where they were going. The truth was, +that this time they had entirely forgotten it: they were so +excited by the hopes of finding a mine. They had walked +nearly a mile when Nelly suddenly exclaimed: "Oh, Rob! +we didn't say good-by to mamma! She won't know where +we are."</p> + +<p>"So we didn't!" said Rob. "What a shame! But we<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span> +can't go back now, Nell: it's too late; we've come miles and +miles; we'd better keep on; she'll know we're all right; we +always are. We're most there now."</p> + +<p>It was the middle of the afternoon before Rob and Nelly +got home. Mrs. March had been walking up and down the +road anxiously for an hour, when she saw the two little +figures coming down the very steepest of the hills. They +walked very slowly; so slowly that she felt sure one of them +must be hurt. The dogs were bounding along before them. +As soon as the children saw their mother, Rob took off his +hat, and Nelly her sun-bonnet, and waved them in the air. +This relieved Mrs. March's fears, and the tears came into +her eyes, she was so glad. "Oh, Robert, there they are!" +she exclaimed to Mr. March, who had just joined her. +"See! there they are, way up on that steep hill. Thank +God, they are safe!"</p> + +<p>Mr. and Mrs. March both stood in the road, shading +their eyes with their hands, and looking up at the children.</p> + +<p>As they drew nearer, Mrs. March exclaimed: "Why, +what are they carrying?" Mr. March burst out laughing, +and said: "They look like little pack mules." In a few +minutes, the hot, tired, dusty little wanderers reached the +road, and ran breathlessly up to their father and mother:</p> + +<p>"Oh, mamma!" cried Rob; and "Oh, papa!" cried Nelly. +"We've found a mine; we've got lots of ore; now we can +get all the money we want. You see if this isn't almost +exactly like the stuff in the man's wagon!" and Nelly +emptied her apron on the ground, and Rob emptied his +jacket; he had taken it off and carried it by the sleeves so as +to make a big sack of it. Mr. and Mrs. March could hardly +keep from laughing at the sight: there were the two piles +of little bits of stone, and the children with red and dirty +faces and the perspiration rolling down their cheeks, getting +down on their knees to pick out the choicest specimens.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span> +Nelly was fumbling deep down in her pocket; presently she +drew out her handkerchief all knotted in a wisp, and out of +the last knot she took the little bit of ore which they had +borrowed from the wagon for a sample. This she laid in +her father's hand: "There, papa," she said, "that's the +man's: we borrowed it to carry along to tell by."</p> + +<p>"They don't look so much like it as they did," she added, +turning sorrowfully back to the poor little pile of stones. +Rob was gazing at them too, with a crest-fallen face.</p> + +<p>"Why, they don't shine a bit now," he said; "up there +they shone like every thing."</p> + +<p>Mr. March picked up a bit of the stone and looked +closely at it.</p> + +<p>"Ah, Rob," he said, "the reason it doesn't shine now, +is because the sun has gone under a cloud. There are little +points of mica in these stones, and mica shines in the sun; +but there isn't any silver here, dear. Did you really think +you had made all our fortunes?"</p> + +<p>Rob did not speak. He had hard work to keep from +crying. He stood still, slowly kicking the pile of stones +with one foot. His father pitied him very much.</p> + +<p>"Never mind, Rob," he said; "you're not the first fellow +that has thought he had found a mine, and been mistaken."</p> + +<p>Rob stooped down and picked up two big handfuls of the +stones and threw them as far as he could throw them.</p> + +<p>"Old cheats!" he said.</p> + +<p>"Yes, real old cheats!" said Nelly; and she began to +scatter the stones with her foot. "And they were awful +heavy. Oh, mamma, I'm so hungry!"</p> + +<p>"So'm I," said Rob. "Isn't it dinner-time?"</p> + +<p>"Dinner-time!" exclaimed their mother. "Did you +really not have any more idea of the time than that! Why, +it is three o'clock! Where have you been?"</p> + +<p>"Not very far, mamma," answered Nelly; "only up<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span> +where old Molly tumbled in. Rob thought perhaps that +hole was a mine. It's all full of these shining stones. Isn't +it too bad, mamma?"</p> + +<p>"Isn't what too bad, Nell?" said Mrs. March.</p> + +<p>"Why, too bad that they ain't silver," replied Nelly. +"We thought we could all have every thing we wanted."</p> + +<p>Mrs. March laughed.</p> + +<p>"What do you want most of all this minute?" she said.</p> + +<p>"Something to eat, mamma," said Nelly.</p> + +<p>"Well, that you can have; and that I hope we can always +have without any silver mine: and to-day we have something +very good to eat."</p> + +<p>"Oh! what, mamma, what? say, quick!" said Rob.</p> + +<p>"Chicken pie," said Mrs. March, in a very comical, +earnest tone.</p> + +<p>"Chicken pie!" shouted Rob. "Hurrah! hurrah!" +and both he and Nelly ran toward the house as hard as +they could go.</p> + +<p>"There is a wish-bone drying for you on the mantelpiece," +called out Mr. March.</p> + +<p>"They'll both wish for a silver mine, I expect," laughed +Mrs. March, as she and her husband walked slowly along. +"What a queer notion that was to come into such children's +heads!"</p> + +<p>"I don't know," said Mr. March, reflectively; "I think +it's a very natural notion to come into anybody's head. I'd +like a silver mine myself, very much."</p> + +<p>"We mightn't be any happier if we had one, nor half so +happy," replied Mrs. March. "I'd rather have you well, +and the children well, than have all the silver mines in +Colorado."</p> + +<p>"If you had to choose between the two things, I dare +say," answered Mr. March; "but I suppose a person might<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span> +have good health and a silver mine besides. How would +that do?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I'll make sure of the health first," said Mrs. +March, laughing. "I'm not in so much hurry for the silver +mine."</p> + +<p>After Rob and Nelly had eaten up all the chicken pie +which had been saved for them, they took down the wish-bone +from the mantelpiece, and prepared to "wish."</p> + +<p>"It's so dry, it'll break splendidly," said Rob. "I know +what I'm going to wish for."</p> + +<p>"So do I," said Nelly, resolutely; "I'm going to wish +hard."</p> + +<p>They both pulled with all their might. Crack went the +wish-bone,—no difference in the length of the two pieces.</p> + +<p>"Pshaw!" cried Rob; "how mean! one or the other of +us might have had it."</p> + +<p>Nelly drew a long sigh. "Rob," said she, "What did +you wish for?"</p> + +<p>"A silver mine," said he, "both times."</p> + +<p>"So did I," said Nell. "I thought you did, too. I guess +we sha'n't either of us ever have one."</p> + +<p>"I don't care," said Rob; "there's plenty of money +besides in mines. I'm going to have a bank when I'm a +man."</p> + +<p>"Are you, Rob?" said Nell. "What's that?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, just a house where you can go and get money," +replied Rob, confidently. "I used to go with papa often at +home. They gave him all he wanted."</p> + +<p>Nelly looked somewhat perplexed. She did not know any +thing about banks: still she thought there was a loose screw +somewhere in Rob's calculations; but she did not ask him +any more questions.</p> + +<p>After tea, Mr. March walked away with the driver of +the mule team. They did not come back until it was dark.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span> +Mr. March opened the door of the sitting-room, and said, +"Sarah, I wish you'd come out here a few minutes." +When she had stepped out and closed the door, he said, "I +want you to come up where the wagon is: there's a nice +bonfire up there, and it isn't cold; I want this man to tell +you all he's been telling me about a place down south,—a +hundred miles below this. If it's all's he says, that's the +place we ought to go to. But I wanted you to hear all about +it before I said any thing to the Deacon."</p> + +<p>The driver's name, by the way, was Billy; he was called +"Long Billy" on the roads where he drove, because his +legs were so long, and his body so short. He had made a +splendid bonfire on the edge of the brook, and Mr. March +and he had been sitting there for an hour, on a buffalo robe +spread on the ground. Mrs. March sat down with them, +and Long Billy began his story over again. It seemed that +he had formerly been a driver of a mule team on another +route, much farther south than this one. He had "hauled +ore," as he called it, from a little town called Rosita, to +another town called Canyon City. There the ore was +packed on cars and sent over the little narrow-gauge railroad +up to Central City, where the silver was extracted +from the rock, and moulded into little solid bricks of silver +ready to be sent to the mint at Philadelphia to be made into +half dollars and quarters.</p> + +<p>This town of Rosita lay among mountains: was built on +the sides of two or three narrow gulches, in the Wet Mountain +range; at the foot of these mountains was the beautiful +Wet Mountain Valley,—a valley thirty miles long, and +only from five to eight miles wide; on the side farthest from +Rosita this valley was walled by another high mountain +range, the Sangre di Christo range. This means "The +blood of Christ." The Spaniards gave this name to the +mountains when they first came to the country. All the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span> +mountains in the Sangre di Christo range are over eight +thousand feet high, and many of them are over twelve thousand; +their points are sharp like the teeth of a saw, and they +are white with snow the greater part of the year. The +beautiful valley lying between these two long lines of mountains +was the place about which Long Billy had been telling +Mr. March, and now began to tell Mrs. March.</p> + +<p>"Why, ma'am," he said, "I tell ye, after coming over +these plains, it is jest like lookin' into Heaven, to get a look +down into that valley; it's as green as any medder land ye +ever laid your eyes on; I've seen the grass there higher'n +my knee, in July."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" said Mrs. March, with a sigh of satisfaction at +the very thought of it, "I would like to see tall grass once +more."</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed wife," said Mr. March; "but think what +a place that would be for cattle, and for hay. Farming +would be something worth talking about; and Billy says +that the farmers in the valley can have a good market in +Rosita for all they can raise. There are nearly a thousand +miners there; and it is also only a day's journey from +Pueblo, which is quite a city. It really looks to me like the +most promising place I've heard any thing about here."</p> + +<p>"It's the nicest bit of country there is anywhere in +Colorado," said Billy, "'s fur's I've seen it. Them mountains's +jest a picture to look at all the time; 'n' there's a +creek,—Grape Creek, they call it, because it's just lined +with wild grape-vines, for miles,—runs through the valley; +'n' lots o' little creeks coming down out o' the mountains, +'n' empties into't. I wouldn't ask nothin' more o' the +Lord than that He'd give me a little farm down in Wet +Mountain Valley for the rest o' my life. I know that."</p> + +<p>"Do you think there are any farms there that could be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span> +bought?" asked Mr. March, anxiously. "I should think +such desirable lands would be all taken up."</p> + +<p>"Well, they're changin' round there a good deal," said +Billy. "Ye wouldn't think it; but men they git discontented +a hearing so much talk about silver. They're always a +hoping to get hold on a mine 'n' make a big fortin all in a +minnit; but I hain't seen so many of these big fortins made +off minin' 'n this country. For one man thet's made his +fortin, I've known twenty that's lost it. Now I think on't +I did hear, last spring, that Wilson he wanted to sell out; +'n' if you could get his farm, you'd jest be fixed first rate. +There's the best spring o' water on his place there is in all +the valley; and it ain't more'n four miles 'n' a half from his +place up into Rosita: ye'd walk it easy."</p> + +<p>Mr. March looked at his wife. Her face was full of +excitement and pleasure.</p> + +<p>"It sounds perfectly delightful, Robert," she said; "but +you know we thought just so about this Pass. The pictures +were so beautiful, and all they told us sounded attractive."</p> + +<p>Billy made a scornful sound almost like a snort.</p> + +<p>"H'm!" he said, "anybody that recommended ye to +settle this low down in the Ute Pass for stock-raisin' or +farmin' must ha' been either a knave or a fool: that's +certain."</p> + +<p>"A knave, I think," said Mrs. March. "He tried very +hard to sell us the whole place."</p> + +<p>"I'll be bound he did," sneered Billy; "cheap enough +he'll sell it, too, afore ever he gets anybody to buy."</p> + +<p>"Say, mister," he continued, "you jest come along with +me to-morrow: I'd like to take a run down to Rosita, first +rate; 'n' I've got to lay by a few days anyhow. I'll get this +load o' ore board the cars at the Springs, 'n' then I'll jest +quit work for a week; 'n' I'll go down with yer to Rosita.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span> +There's somebody there I'm wantin' to see putty bad." And +Billy's burnt face grew a shade or two deeper red.</p> + +<p>"Ah, Billy, is that it?" said Mr. March.</p> + +<p>"Well, yes, sir. We're a calculatin' to be married one +o' these days soon's I get a little ahead. It's slow work, +though, layin' up money teamin', 'n' I won't take her out +of a good home till I can give her one o' her own's good. +Her father he's foreman 'n one o' the mines there; 'n' he's +always been a real forehanded man. She's well off: she's +got no occasion to marry anybody to be took care of." And +Billy smiled complacently at the thought that it must have +been for pure love that the Rosita young lady had promised +to marry him.</p> + +<p>"Sarah, what do you think of my going?" said Mr. +March.</p> + +<p>"Go, by all means!" said Mrs. March. "The little +journey will do you good, even if nothing comes of it. +We need not say any thing about the reason for your going, +till you get back. If you decide to move down there, that +will be time enough to explain."</p> + +<p>"And Mrs. Plummer will say that it was all 'providential,'" +laughed Mr. March.</p> + +<p>"And so shall I, Robert," said Mrs. March, very +earnestly.</p> + +<p>The next morning Mr. March and Long Billy set off +together at seven o'clock. It was the first time Mrs. March +had been separated from her husband in this new country, +and she dreaded it.</p> + +<p>"Good-by! good-by!" called the children, in their night-gowns, +at the bedroom window; "good-by, papa."</p> + +<p>"Good-by!" said the Deacon; "reckon your bones'll +ache some, before ye get to the Springs, a ridin' that +wheeler." Mr. March was riding the rear wheeler, and +Long Billy was walking by his side.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Not if he don't walk any faster than this," said Mr. +March. "And I shall walk half of the time."</p> + +<p>"Ye needn't walk a step if ye'd rather ride," said Billy. +"I'm all right this mornin'. 'Tain't only about ten miles +down to Colorado Springs. I don't think nothin' o' walkin' +that fur, especially when I've got company to talk to. +Mules is dreadful tiresome critters. Now a hoss's real good +company; but a mule ain't no company, 't all."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER VIII</h2> + +<h4>THE MARCHES LEAVE GARLAND'S</h4> + + +<p>It was on a Wednesday morning that Mr. March and +Long Billy set out for Rosita. The next week, on Thursday +evening, just at sunset, Mrs. March heard the sound of +wheels, and, looking up, saw a white-topped wagon, drawn +by two mules, coming up the road. In the next instant, she +saw Rob and Nelly running, jumping, and clapping their +hands, and trying to climb up into the wagon.</p> + +<p>"Why, that must be Mr. March," she exclaimed, and +ran out of the door.</p> + +<p>"Why, that's queer," said the Deacon, following slowly; +"he said he'd write the day before he was a-comin'; and +we were to go down 'n' meet him at the Springs."</p> + +<p>"And if he hasn't brought that long-geared fellow back +with him, I declare!" continued the Deacon, as he walked +on: "I'd like to know what's up now."</p> + +<p>Mrs. March had already reached the wagon, and was +welcoming her husband. Long Billy interrupted her +greetings.</p> + +<p>"Well, mum," he said, "I s'pose you're surprised to see +me back again. But me 'n' him"—nodding to Mr. +March—"'s struck up a kind o' 'liance, an' I'm to your +service now: me 'n' my mules."</p> + +<p>"I know what that means," thought Mrs. March: +"we're going to move down to that valley, post haste." +But all she said was:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span>—</p> + +<p>"Very well, Billy; I'm glad to see you. Mr. March's +friends are always mine."</p> + +<p>"What are you going to do with that Long Legs, Parson?" +said Deacon Plummer, as soon as he found a chance +to speak to Mr. March alone; "seems to me we haven't got +work for another hand: have we?"</p> + +<p>"Not on this farm: that's a clear case, Deacon," replied +Mr. March; "but it's too long a story to enter on now. +After supper I'll tell you my plans."</p> + +<p>The Deacon took out his red silk handkerchief, and +rubbed his forehead.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Lord!" said he to himself; "what's that blessed +man been and done now? He ain't noways fit to go off by +himself. I'll bet he's been took in worse 'n ever."</p> + +<p>After supper Mr. March told his story. He had bought +a farm in the Wet Mountain Valley, and he proposed that +they should all move down there immediately. The place +had more than equalled all Long Billy's descriptions of it; +and Mr. March's enthusiasm was unbounded. Deacon +Plummer listened to all his statements with a perplexed +and incredulous face.</p> + +<p>"Did you see that medder grass's high's a man's knee?" +he asked.</p> + +<p>"Waded in it, Deacon," replied Mr. March; "but that +isn't all: I've got a wisp of it in my pocket."</p> + +<p>Long Billy chuckled, as Mr. March drew the crumpled +green wisp out of his pocket, and handed it to the Deacon.</p> + +<p>"'Twas I put him up to bringin' that," said Billy. "Sez +I, 'there ain't nothin' so good for folks's seein' with their +own eyes.' I kind o' misgave that the old man wouldn't be +for believin' it all."</p> + +<p>The Deacon unfolded the grass; back and forth, back +and forth, he bent it, and straightened it out across his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span> +knees. He looked at it in silence for a minute; then he +said:—</p> + +<p>"Well, that beats me! Acres like this, you say?"</p> + +<p>"Miles, Deacon," said Mr. March.</p> + +<p>"Miles 'n' miles," said Billy; "'s fur's you can see it +wavin' in the wind; 't looks like wheat, only puttier. +P'raps you'd better show him the wheat now?"</p> + +<p>Mr. March pulled out of his other pocket a similar wisp +of wheat, and handed it to the Deacon. This he straightened +out, as he had the grass, across his knees, and looked +at it in silence for a moment; then he tasted the kernel; +then he rolled up both wheat and grass together, and handed +them back to Mr. March, saying:</p> + +<p>"I've got nothin' more to say. Seein' 's believin'."</p> + +<p>Long Billy nodded his head triumphantly, and winked +at Mr. March.</p> + +<p>"But," continued the Deacon, "for all that I don't feel +it clear in my mind about our goin'. 'Twouldn't make any +difference to ye, Parson, anyway, if Elizy 'n' I didn't go; +would it?"</p> + +<p>Mr. March was much surprised.</p> + +<p>"Why, Deacon!" he said, "we should be very sorry to +have you separate from us. You surely can't stay on in this +place!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no!" replied the Deacon; "we hain't the least +idea o' that. The fact is, I expect we ought to go home: +Elizy's so poorly. We've been thinkin' on't for some time. +But we was so kind o' settled here, and all so home-like, we +hated to stir. But if you're goin' to break up, and go to a +new place, I expect we'd better take that time to go home."</p> + +<p>This was not wholly a surprise to Mr. and Mrs. March, +for they had themselves felt that old Mrs. Plummer would +after all be better off in her comfortable home in Mayfield.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span> +They saw that she was growing slowly more feeble: the +climate did not suit her.</p> + +<p>"I reckon we're kind o' old for this country," said the +Deacon. "It don't seem to me's I feel quite so fust-rate's +I did at home. Trees gets too old to transplant after a +while."</p> + +<p>"That's so! that's so!" exclaimed Billy. "I've never +yet seen the fust time, old folks adoin' well here. The air's +too bracin' for 'em. They can't get used to it,—no offence +to you, sir,"—looking at Deacon Plummer.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no offence,—no offence at all," replied the Deacon. +"I don't make any bones about ownin' that I'm old. +Me 'n' my wife's both seen our best days; 'n' I reckon we're +best off at home. I think we'd better go, Parson. We're +mighty sorry to leave you; but when you move south, we'll +start the other way towards home. Ain't that so, Elizy?" +Mrs. Plummer had been rocking violently for the last few +minutes, with her face buried in her handkerchief.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she sobbed, "I expect so. It's just providential, +the hull on't."</p> + +<p>"Dear Mrs. Plummer, do not cry so!" exclaimed Mrs. +March. "We have had a very pleasant time. It is only +a few months; and when you get home, it will only seem +as if you had taken a six months' journey. I really think +you will be better in Mayfield than here."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I've no doubt on't," said Mrs. Plummer, still crying +in her handkerchief; "but I thought we was a goin' to +live with you all the rest o' our lives. It's a awful disappointment +to me. But it's all providential. It's a comfort +to know that."</p> + +<p>When Zeb heard the news that the family would break +up in a few days,—the Marches to move to Wet Mountain +Valley, and the Plummers to go back to Massachusetts,—he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span> +was very sorry. He turned on his heel without saying +a word, and went into the barn.</p> + +<p>"Just your luck, Abe Mack!" he said, under his breath; +"you don't no sooner get used to a place 'n' to folks, 'n' +feel real contented, than somethin' happens to tip ye out. +Ye're born onlucky; I reckon there's no use fightin'. +They're so took up with this long-legged spindle of a mule-driver +I expect they won't want me; 'n' I don't want to go +down into no minin' country, nuther,—'taint safe. I'll see +if the old man won't take me back to the States. I've got +enough to pay my way, if he'll give me work after I get +there, and I reckon I'd be safe from any o' them Georgetown +fellers in Massachusetts."</p> + +<p>The Deacon was very glad to take Zeb back with him. +He had learned to like the man, and he needed such a hand +on his farm.</p> + +<p>And so it was all settled, and everybody went to work +as hard as possible to get ready for the move. Nelly and +Rob hardly knew whether to be glad or sorry. They loved +the hills so much, they were afraid they would not love +the valley so well. Yet their heads were nearly turned by +Long Billy's stories of the wonderful mines in Rosita; of +the machinery in the stamp-mill where they crushed the ore +and got the silver out; of the delicious wild grapes on +Grape Creek; and the trout, and the flowers on the hills.</p> + +<p>"Yer hain't ever seen any flowers yet," said Billy, when +Nelly tried to tell him how many flowers grew in the Pass; +"ye jest wait till I take ye up on Pine's ranch, some Sunday. +I'll show ye flowers then: sixty odd kinds in one +field,—yes, sure! I counted 'em; and old Pine he counted +em too. And he sent 'em off by express once, some of +each kind, to the folks at Washington. You'll see!"</p> + +<p>Just three weeks from the day Long Billy first drove +into the shadow of the old saw-mill to camp, the March<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span> +and Plummer family set out on their journeys: Fox and +Pumpkinseed drawing one big white-topped wagon, in +which were Mrs. March, Deacon and Mrs. Plummer, Nelly +and Rob. Billy's two mules drew the other big wagon, +which was loaded down very heavily with the furniture +Mr. March had bought. Mr. March drove this; and Billy, +mounted on a new horse which he had bought, was driving +all the cattle before him. Zeb sat by Mr. March's side in +the mule wagon. He and Deacon and Mrs. Plummer were +to take the cars at Colorado Springs, and go to Denver. +Mr. and Mrs. March had begged them to come down with +them into Wet Mountain Valley, and make a visit. But +the Deacon said "No."</p> + +<p>"The fact is," he said, "I may's well own it: now that +we're really started for home, we're dreadful homesick. I +didn't know's I had felt it so much. Can't transplant old +trees, Parson, no use! It's a good country for young +folks,—a good country; I shall tell the boys about it. But +give me old Massachusetts. I just hanker after a sight o' +the old buryin'-ground, 'n' that black elder-bush in the +corner on't."</p> + +<p>When they parted at the little railroad station in Colorado +Springs, Mrs. Plummer broke down and cried. Nelly +cried a little too, from sympathy; and even Watch whined, +seeing that something unusual and uncomfortable was going +on. Luckily, however, good-bys at railway stations +always are cut short. The engine-bell rings, and the cars +move off, and that puts an end to the last words. Mr. and +Mrs. March were sorry to part from these good old people; +and yet, if the whole truth were told, it must be owned +that they felt a sense of relief when they were gone. They +had felt, all the while, a responsibility for their comfort, +and a fear lest they should be taken ill, which had been +burdensome.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span></p> + +<p>"We shall miss them: shan't we?" said Mrs. March, as +the train moved off.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Nelly; "I'm real sorry they're gone. I like +Zeb too."</p> + +<p>"We'll miss the crullers," said Rob. "Say, mamma, +didn't she show you how to make 'em?"</p> + +<p>"Rob," said his father, "you ought to be a Chinese."</p> + +<p>"Why?" asked Rob.</p> + +<p>"Because they think the seat of all life is in the stomach; +and they give great honor to people with very big +stomachs," answered his father.</p> + +<p>Rob did not know whether his father were laughing at +him or not. He suspected he might be.</p> + +<p>"I don't know what you mean, papa," he said: "you +like crullers, anyhow."</p> + +<p>"Fair hit, Rob!" said Mrs. March. "Fair hit, +papa!"</p> + +<p>The journey to Rosita took six days: they had to go +very slowly on account of the cattle. The weather was perfect; +and every night they slept on the ground, in a tent +which Mr. March had bought in Colorado Springs. Rob +rode on Pumpkinseed's back a good part of the way, like a +little postilion. Before the end of the journey, they were +all so burnt by the sun that they looked, Mrs. March said, +"a great deal more like Indians than like white people." +They drove into Rosita just at sunset. I wish I could tell +you how beautiful the whole place looked to them. You +go down a steep hill, just as you come into the town of +Rosita. On the top of this hill, Mr. March called out to +his wife to stop. She was driving Fox and Pumpkinseed; +and he was following behind with the mules. He jumped +out, and came up to the side of her wagon.</p> + +<p>"There, Sarah!" he said, "did you ever see any thing +in your life so beautiful as this?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span></p> + +<p>Mrs. March did not speak; both she and Nelly and even +Rob were struck dumb by the beauty of the picture. They +looked right down into the little village. It was cuddled +in the ravine as if it had gone to sleep there. The sides +of the hills were dotted with pine-trees; and most of the +little houses were built of bright yellow pine boards: they +shone in the sun. Just beyond the village they could see +a bit of a most beautiful green valley; and, beyond that, +great high mountains, half covered with snow.</p> + +<p>"That is the valley," said Mr. March; "that bit of +bright green, way down there to the west."</p> + +<p>Nelly was the first to speak.</p> + +<p>"Papa," said she, "it looks just like a beautiful green +bottom to a deep well: doesn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, this little bit that you see of it from here, does," +said Mr. March: "but, after you get into it, it doesn't look +so. It is thirty miles long; and so level you would think +you were on the plains. And oh, Nell! you can see your +dear Pike's Peak grandly there! It looks twice as high +here as it does from any place I have seen it."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'm so glad!" said Nelly.</p> + +<p>Still Mrs. March did not speak. Her husband turned to +her at last, anxiously, and said:—</p> + +<p>"Don't you like it, Sarah?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Robert!" she said, "it is so beautiful it doesn't +look to me like a real place. It looks like a painted picture!"</p> + +<p>"That'll do! that'll do!" laughed Mr. March; "I'm +satisfied. Now we'll go down the hill."</p> + +<p>Rob nudged Nelly. They were on the back seat of the +wagon.</p> + +<p>"Nell," he whispered, "did you ever see any thing like +it? I see lots of silver mines all round on the hills. Billy +told me how they looked. Those piles of stones are all on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span> +top of mines; that's where they throw out the stones. I'll +bet we'll find a mine."</p> + +<p>"Oh," said Nelly, "wouldn't that be splendid! Let's +go out the first thing to-morrow morning."</p> + +<p>Mr. March had planned to stay in Rosita a couple of +days, before going down to his farm in the valley. He +wished to become acquainted with some of the Rosita +tradesmen, and to find out all about the best ways of doing +things in this new life. Long Billy proved a good helper +now. Everybody in Rosita knew Long Billy and liked him; +and, when he said to his friends, confidentially:</p> + +<p>"This is a first-rate feller I've hired with: he does the +square thing by everybody, I tell you. There's nothin' +narrer about him; he's the least like a parson of any parson +ye ever see,"—they accepted Billy's word for it all, and +met Mr. March with a friendliness which would not usually +have been shown to a newcomer.</p> + +<p>The next morning after they reached Rosita, Long Billy +proposed to take Mr. March out and introduce him to +some of the people he knew. When Mr. March came +downstairs, he was dressed in a good suit of black, and +wore a white collar; on the journey, he had worn his +rough working-clothes, and a flannel shirt. Long Billy +looked him up and down, from head to foot, with an expression +of great dissatisfaction; but did not say anything. +Then he walked out on the piazza of the hotel, and +stood still for some minutes, in deep thought. Then he +said to himself:—</p> + +<p>"Hang it all! I'll have to speak to him. What'd he +want to go 'n' spruce hisself all up like that for? 'T'll jest +ruin him in this town, oncet for all! I'll have to speak to +him. I'd rather be scotch-wolloped."</p> + +<p>What scotch-wolloped means I do not know: but it +was a favorite expression of Long Billy's. So he walked<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span> +back into the hotel, and beckoned Mr. March out on the +piazza.</p> + +<p>"Look here, Parson," he said, speaking very fast, and +looking very much embarrassed,—which was an odd thing +for Billy,—"look here, Parson, you ain't goin' to preach +to-day, be yer?"</p> + +<p>"Why, no, Billy," said Mr. March; "why did you ask?"</p> + +<p>"Ain't these yer preachin' clo'es?" replied Billy, pointing +to the black coat.</p> + +<p>Mr. March laughed.</p> + +<p>"Why, yes, I have preached in them, Billy; but I do +not expect ever to again. I must wear them out, though."</p> + +<p>"Not in these parts, Parson," said Billy, solemnly, shaking +his head. "Yer don't know minin' towns so well's I do. +Ef I was to take you down town in that rig, there wouldn't +one o' the fellers open his head to yer. They'd shet up +jest like snappin' turtles. Ye jest go upstairs 'n' put on +the clo'es ye allers wears won't ye?" said Billy, almost +pleadingly.</p> + +<p>"Why, certainly, Billy, if you really think it would +make any difference about my making friends with the +people. I don't want to offend anybody. These are pretty +old clothes, though, Billy, if they only knew it. It was +to save my others that I put them on. But I'll change them, +if you say so." And Mr. March ran upstairs much amused. +When he came down in his rough suit and his blue flannel +shirt, Billy smiled with pleasure.</p> + +<p>"There," he said, "you look like a man in them clo'es, +Parson. Excuse my bein' so free; but I allers did think +that the parsons' clo'es had a good deal to do with fellers +despisin' 'em's they do. They allers call 'em 'Tender-feet.'"</p> + +<p>"Tender-feet!" exclaimed Mr. March; "what does that +mean, Billy?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span></p> + +<p>Billy did not answer immediately. He was puzzled to +think of any definition of "Tender-feet."</p> + +<p>"Well," he said at last, "don'no' as I can say exactly +what it does mean; but 'tain't because I don't know. Any +feller that's over-particular about his clo'es, 'n' his way o' +livin', 'n' can't rough it like the generality o' folks in +Colorado, gets called a 'Tender-foot'! Lord, I'd rather be +called a thief, any day!"</p> + +<p>Mr. March laughed heartily.</p> + +<p>"I see! I see!" he said. "Well now, Billy, you don't +think there'd be any danger of my ever being called a 'Tender-foot' +do you?"</p> + +<p>"Not a bit of it, Parson," said Billy, emphatically, +"when a feller came to live with yer; but to see yer jest a +walkin' round in them black clo'es o' yourn, you'd get took +for one. Yer would: that's a fact. I should take yer for +one myself. Yer may's well give that suit up, oncet for all, +Parson, for this country, I tell ye," added Billy, thinking +he would make sure that the danger did not occur again. +"Thet is," he continued, "except Sundays. I don't suppose +'twould do ye any harm to be seen in it Sundays, or +to a dance."</p> + +<p>"I don't go to dances, Billy," said Mr. March; "perhaps +I'll give the suit away: that'll save all trouble."</p> + +<p>As they left the hotel, they saw Rob and Nelly walking +hand in hand up the steep road down which they had come +the night before, entering the village.</p> + +<p>"Where can the children be going?" said Mr. March. +"Rob! Nelly!" he called. They both turned and said:</p> + +<p>"What, papa?" but did not come towards him.</p> + +<p>"Where are you going?" he said.</p> + +<p>"Oh, only a little way up this road," replied Rob.</p> + +<p>"Don't you want to come with me?" said Mr. March. +The children hesitated.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Do you want us, papa?" said Nelly.</p> + +<p>"Why, no, certainly not," replied Mr. March, "unless +you want to come. I thought you would like to see the +town: that's all."</p> + +<p>"We'd rather go up on the hill, papa," said Rob. +"Mamma said we might, if we wouldn't go out of sight +of the hotel. Good-by!"</p> + +<p>"Good-by, papa!" called Nelly. And they both trudged +off with a most business-like air.</p> + +<p>Long Billy laughed.</p> + +<p>"Them youngsters got silver on the brain," he said. +"Thet's what's the matter with them. I've seen plenty o' +grown folks jest the same way in this country: a walkin', +walkin' by the month to a time, a pokin' into every hole, 'n' +a hammerin' every stone,—jest wild after gold 'n' silver. +There's plenty on 'em's jest wasted time enough on't to ha' +made a considerable money, if they'd stuck to some kind o' +regular work. That little chap o' yourn, he's a driver; he +hain't never let go the idee of findin' a silver mine, sence +the day they hauled all them mica stuns down, back there'n +the Pass. They're a rare couple, he 'n' Nelly: they are."</p> + +<p>"Yes, they are good children," said Mr. March: "good +children; but I don't want them to get possessed with this +desire for money." And he looked anxiously up the hill, +where he could see Rob and Nelly striking off from the +road, and picking their way across the rough ground towards +a great pile of gray ore, which had been thrown out +of one of the mines.</p> + +<p>Long Billy also looked up at them.</p> + +<p>"The little sarpents!" he said. "They're a makin' for +the Pocahontas mine, straight. Rob, he was askin' me +all about the piles o' ore 'n' the engines in the mines, yesterday."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Is there any danger of their being hurt?" said Mr. +March.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no! I reckon not. That Nelly, she's jest the same's +a grown woman. I allers notice her a holdin' the little +feller back. She won't go into any resky places no more'n +her ma would. She's got a heap o' sense, that little gal +has."</p> + +<p>While Mr. March and the children were away, Mrs. +March sat at the west window of her room, looking off +into the beautiful valley. I wish I could make you see just +how it looked from her window; however, no picture can +show it, and I suppose no words can tell it; but if you really +want to try to imagine how it looked just ask somebody +who is with you while you are reading this page, to explain +to you how high a thousand feet would seem to you. If +you can see the spire of the church, and can know just +how high that is, that will help you get an idea of a thousand +feet. Then you can imagine that you are looking off +between two high hills, right down into a bit of green +valley one thousand feet lower down than you are. Then +try to imagine that this bit of green valley looked very +small; and that, beyond it, there were grand high mountains, +half covered with snow. The lower half of the mountains +looked blue: on a sunny day, mountains always look +blue in the distance; and the upper half was dazzling white. +This is the best I can do towards making you see the picture +which Mrs. March saw as she sat at her western window. +After all, I think Nelly's sentence was worth more +than all mine, when she said, "Oh, papa, it looks like a +beautiful green bottom to a deep well." The picture was so +beautiful that Mrs. March did not want to do anything but +sit and look at it, and when her husband returned from his +walk in the village, she was really astonished to find that +she had sat at the window two whole hours without moving.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span> +The children did not come home until noon. Their faces +were red and their eyes shone with excitement: they had +had a fine time; they had rambled on from one mine to +another on the hill; wherever they saw a pile of the gray +ore, and a yellow pine building near it, they had gone into +the building and looked into the shaft down which the miners +went into the ground. They had found kind men everywhere +who had answered all their questions; and Rob had +both his pockets full of pieces of stone with beautiful colors, +like a peacock's neck. Rob had forgotten the name of the +stone: so had Nelly.</p> + +<p>"It sounded something like prophets," said Nelly, "but +it couldn't have been that"; she handed a bit of the stone +to Long Billy.</p> + +<p>"Oh," said he, glancing at it carelessly, "that's nothing +but pyrites; that's no account; they'll give you all you want +of that."</p> + +<p>"I don't care:" said Rob, "it's splendid. I'm going to +make a museum, and I shall have the shelves full of it. +But, mamma," he said sadly, "there isn't any use in our +looking for a mine. When I told one of the men that we +were going to see if we couldn't find a mine, he just laughed, +and he said that every inch of the ground all round here +belonged to people that thought they'd got mines. All +those little bits of piles of stones, with just a stick stuck up +by them, every one of those means that a man's been digging +there to find silver; and they're just as thick! why, you +can't go ten steps without coming on one! They call them +'claims.'"</p> + +<p>"That's so," said Long Billy; "and I'll tell ye what I +call 'em. I call 'em gravestones, them little sticks stuck up +on stone heaps: that's what most on 'em are, graves where +some poor feller's buried a lot o' hope and some money."</p> + +<p>Nelly turned her great dark eyes full on Long Billy when<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span> +he said this. Her face grew very sad: she understood exactly +what he meant. Rob did not understand. He looked +only puzzled.</p> + +<p>"Graves!" exclaimed he. "Why, what do you call them +graves for, Billy? There isn't any thing buried in them."</p> + +<p>Billy looked a little ashamed of his speech; he did not +often indulge in anything so much like a flight of fancy +as this.</p> + +<p>"Oh, nothin'!" he said. "That's only a silly way o' +puttin' it."</p> + +<p>"I don't think so, Billy," said Nelly. "I think it's real +true. Don't you know, Rob, how awfully you and I felt +when we thought we'd found that mine up in the Pass, +and it turned out nothing but mica? We felt just as if +we'd lost something."</p> + +<p>"I didn't," said Rob; "I just felt mad; and it makes me +feel mad now to think of it: how we lugged those heavy +old stones all that way. I wish I'd saved some for my museum +though. All the boys here have museums, a man told +me, and perhaps I won't find any of that kind of stone +here."</p> + +<p>After dinner, they all drove down into the valley to look +at their new home. The road wound down in a zigzag +way among a great many low hills. Sometimes for quite a +distance among these hills, you cannot see the valley at all; +and then all of a sudden you look right out into it. As +they went lower, they saw more and more of it, until at +last they reached it and came out on the level ground, where +they could look up and down the whole length of the valley. +Long Billy was driving them: when they reached the spot +where the whole valley lay in full view, he stopped the +horses and, turning round to Mrs. March, said:—</p> + +<p>"Well, mum, did I tell the truth or not?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span></p> + +<p>"No, Billy, you did not," replied Mrs. March, very +gravely.</p> + +<p>Billy looked surprised, and was just about to speak when +Mrs. March continued:—</p> + +<p>"You did not tell half how beautiful it is."</p> + +<p>"Ah!" said Billy. "Well, that kind o' lie I don't mind +bein' charged with."</p> + +<p>"Oh, papa! let me get out!" cried Nelly. "I want to +walk in this grass. Is this our grass?"</p> + +<p>The road was winding along between two fields of high +grass, which waved in the wind. As it waved, Nelly saw +bright red and blue flowers among it; some tall, and some +low down close to the ground as if they were hiding.</p> + +<p>"Yes, this is where our land begins," said her father; +"this is our own grass: but I don't want you to run in it; +we must mow it next week."</p> + +<p>"Oh, let us, papa; just a little bit—close to the fence. +You can spare a little bit of hay," pleaded Nelly; "we'll +step light."</p> + +<p>"Do let them, Robert," said Mrs. March. "I should +like to do it myself."</p> + +<p>"Very well: keep close to the fence, then," said Mr. +March, and reined up the horses. Rob and Nelly jumped +out, and had clambered over the fence in a second, and +waded into the grass. It was nearly up to their shoulders, +and they looked very pretty moving about in it, picking the +flowers. As Mrs. March was watching them, she suddenly +saw a brown bird with yellow breast fly out of the grass, +and perch on one of the fence-posts.</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't stir, children! don't stir!" she cried: "see +that bird!"</p> + +<p>Rob and Nelly stood perfectly still. And what do you +think that bird did?—opened his mouth and sang the +most exquisite song you ever heard. The canary bird's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span> +song is not half so sweet. The bird was not ten steps away +from the carriage or from the children: there he sat, looking +first at one and then at the other, like a tame bird. In +a few seconds he sang again: then he spread his wings and +flew a little way into the field, and alighted on a tall, slender +grass stalk, and there he sat, swinging to and fro on the +grass, and sang again; then he flew away. Nobody drew +a long breath till he had gone.</p> + +<p>"That's a lark," said Billy; "this country's full on 'em; +they're the tamest birds for a wild bird I ever see. They'll +sing to ye right under your feet."</p> + +<p>"Well, he's a glorious chorister," said Mr. March.</p> + +<p>"If he's a chorister, I'd like to go where he keeps his +choir," said Rob. "I mean to catch one, and have him to +sing in my museum."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, Rob," said Nelly; "don't!"</p> + +<p>"They won't never sing in cages," said Billy. "I've seen +it tried many a time. They jest walk, walk, walk up and +down, up and down in the cage the hull time, and beat their +wings. They can't stand bein' shut up, for all they're so +tame actin' while they're free."</p> + +<p>The children climbed back into the wagon now, with +their hands full of flowers; and Billy whipped up the +horses.</p> + +<p>"Git up, Pumpkinseed! git up, Fox!" he said: "there's +a crib o' corn ahead for you."</p> + +<p>Very soon the new home came in sight. It looked, when +they first saw it, as if it were half buried in green grass; +but, as they came nearer, they saw that the enclosure in +which the house and barns stood was entirely bare of grass. +This gave it a naked and barren look which was not pleasing, +and disappointed Mrs. March very much. However, +she said nothing; only thought to herself "I'll have green +grass up to that very doorstep, before another year's out."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span></p> + +<p>The house was very much like the one they had lived in, +in the Ute Pass, except that it was larger; there were three +log-cabin barns, two of which were very large; and a queer-shaped +log-house, bigger at the top than at the bottom, +standing up quite a distance from the ground, on posts. +This was for wheat. Then there were two dog-houses, and +a great place built round with palings, to keep hens in; +and one or two large open sheds where wagons and carts +stood. Billy looked round on all these buildings with great +pride.</p> + +<p>"I declare," said he, "there ain't such a ranch's this in +all the valley. What a dumb fool that Wilson was to go +'n' leave it. He's put all he's worth, except this farm, into +a mine up in Central; 'n' now he'll go 'n' put the money for +this in too, and's like's not he'll never see a dollar on't +again's long's he lives'. This minin' jest crazes folks."</p> + +<p>"Did ye ever see a puttier farm'n this, mum?" he asked, +turning to Mrs. March.</p> + +<p>Mrs. March could not say that she had not. To her eye, +accustomed to Massachusetts green yards, shaded by elms +and maples, this little group of rough houses and sheds, +standing up quite a distance from the ground, on posts, +few tufts of coarse grass, and weeds growing around it, +was very unsightly. But she did not want to say this; so +she said:—</p> + +<p>"It is much the nicest place I have seen in Colorado, +Billy; and this valley is perfectly beautiful. But where is +the creek?"</p> + +<p>"Right there, mum, just a few rods beyond that fence +to the west,—where you see that line of bushes."</p> + +<p>"I don't see any water," said Nelly.</p> + +<p>"No, you can't till yer come right on it," said Billy; +"'tain't very wide here, 'n' it jest slips along in the bushes +'s if it was trying to hide itself."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Papa," whispered Nelly, "doesn't Billy say queer +things about things, just as if every thing was alive, and +had feelings as we do? I like it."</p> + +<p>Mr. March smiled, and took Nelly's hand in his.</p> + +<p>"Girlie," he said, "Billy's a little of a poet, in his rough +way."</p> + +<p>"He doesn't make verses: does he?" asked Nelly, reverentially. +To make verses had always been the height of +Nelly's ambition, as many a little roll of scribbled paper in +her desk would show. But there was one great trouble with +Nelly's verses thus far: she never could find any words +that rhymed; and now to hear Billy called a poet seemed +very strange to her.</p> + +<p>"I never should have thought he could make verses," +she continued.</p> + +<p>"Oh! making verses is the smallest part of being a poet, +Nellie," said Mr. March. "You can't understand that yet; +but you will some day."</p> + +<p>Then they all went into the house, and looked at room +after room, thinking what they would do with each. The +rooms were sunny and bright, but were so dirty that Mrs. +March groaned.</p> + +<p>"Oh, how shall we ever get this place clean?"</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you," said Billy. "If ye don't mind the expense +o' stayin' at the hotel a week, an' if ye'll buy me a little paint, +I'll have this hull place so ye won't know it, in a week's +time. There's nothin' I can't turn my hand to; an' I'd like +to fix things up here for you, first rate. I saw up 't the +other place about how you like things."</p> + +<p>Billy had a quick eye for everything that was pretty. He +had never seen any house in Colorado which was so cosey +and pretty as the Marches' house in the Ute Pass; and he +was thinking now in his heart how he would like to make +this new one as pretty as that.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Mebbe you couldn't trust me," he said, seeing that +Mrs. March hesitated.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, I could, Billy," she replied; "I have no doubt +you could put it all in beautiful order. I was thinking +whether we ought to stay"—she was going to say, "stay +a whole week at the hotel"—but, just at that minute, +there came piercing shrieks in Rob's voice:</p> + +<p>"Papa! papa! Billy; come! come!"</p> + +<p>The shrieks came from the direction of the creek.</p> + +<p>"Oh, my God! he's fallen into the creek!" cried Mrs. +March, as she tried to run towards the spot. Long Billy +dashed past her, with his great strides, and said, as he +passed:—</p> + +<p>"Don't be skeered, mum; in the mud, most likely."</p> + +<p>The cries came feebler and feebler, and stopped altogether,—<ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'than'">then</ins> +a loud burst of laughter from Billy, which +brought the life back to Mrs. March. She was clinging to +the fence, nearly senseless with terror; Nelly stood close +by, her face white, and tears rolling down her cheeks: when +they heard Billy's laugh, they looked at each other in amazement +and relief.</p> + +<p>"He can't be in the creek, mamma," said Nelly: "Billy +wouldn't laugh."</p> + +<p>Then they heard Mr. March laugh, and say:—</p> + +<p>"Hold on, Rob: don't be frightened; we'll get a rail."</p> + +<p>Then Billy came striding back out of the bushes, still +laughing. When he saw Mrs. March's and Nelly's agonized +faces, his own sobered instantly.</p> + +<p>"'Twas too bad, mum," he exclaimed, "to give ye such +a skeer. He's in the slough, thet's all; he's putty well in, +too; he'll be a sight to see when we get him fished out. He's +in putty well nigh up to his arms."</p> + +<p>Mrs. March could not help laughing; but Nelly only cried +the more.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Poor dear Rob!" she said: "how he will feel!" And +she began to climb the fence.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Lor'! don't any more on ye come over here," cried +Billy: "it's all we can do to get round. The creek's overflowed: +'n' it's all quakin' tussocks here; that's the way he +went in, a jumpin' from one to another."</p> + +<p>While Billy was speaking he was tearing off two of the +top rails from the fence. He seemed to be as strong as a +giant. In a very few minutes, he had two rails over his +shoulder, and had plunged back among the bushes. In a +few minutes more, out they all came; Rob being led between +Mr. March and Billy. He was indeed, as Billy had +said he would be, "a sight to behold." Up to his very arms +he was plastered with black, slimy mud.</p> + +<p>"Oh, mamma, it smells horrid," was his first remark. "I +wouldn't mind if it didn't smell so."</p> + +<p>Nelly ran up as close to him as she dared.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Rob," she said, "how could you go in such a +place! Why didn't you stay with us?"</p> + +<p>"I wanted to see if there were any grapes yet," said Rob; +"and you couldn't have told yourself, Nell, that it wouldn't +bear. Ugh! What'll I do, mamma?"</p> + +<p>"I'm sure I don't know, Rob," said Mrs. March: she +was at her wits' end. She looked helplessly at Billy: Billy +was rubbing his left cheek with his right forefinger,—his +invariable gesture when he was perplexed. Mr. March also +stood looking at Rob with a despairing face.</p> + +<p>"I wish you wouldn't all look so at me," cried Rob, half +crying: "it's horrid to be stared at. What'll I do, +mamma?"</p> + +<p>It was indeed a dilemma. Rob's trousers and jacket were +dripping wet, and coated thick with the muddy slime; his +shoes were full of it; as he walked about it made a gurgling<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span> +noise, and spurted up; his face was spattered with it; his +hands were black; even his hair had not escaped.</p> + +<p>"There's lots o' hay in the barn," said Billy; "we +might rub a good deal off on him with that. Me 'n' you'd +better take him," said Billy, nodding to Mr. March. "No, +mum, ye stay where ye be; we'll manage better without ye, +this time," continued Billy, waving Mrs. March back, as she +set out to follow them.</p> + +<p>Poor Rob looked back, as Billy led him off towards the +barn; the tears ran down in the mud on his cheeks, and +made little white tracks all the way.</p> + +<p>"I think you're real mean to laugh, mamma," he said.</p> + +<p>Mrs. March was sorry to hurt his feelings, but she could +not help laughing. Nelly did not laugh, however: she +looked almost as wretched as Rob did. It seemed an age +before any one came back from the barn. Then Mr. March +and Billy came out alone: Mr. March carried Rob's trousers +on a stick, and Billy carried the jacket and stockings and +shoes.</p> + +<p>"Why, what have you done with the child!" exclaimed +Mrs. March: "he will take cold, without any clothes on."</p> + +<p>Mr. March's eyes twinkled.</p> + +<p>"Well, he has some clothes on, such as they are," he +said. "Billy raised a contribution for him: my under-drawers +and vest, and Billy's coat; he's all rolled up in the +hay, and you'd better go and sit by him now."</p> + +<p>Mrs. March and Nelly hurried in. There lay Rob, all +buried up in hay: only his face to be seen. He looked very +jolly now, and said he felt perfectly comfortable.</p> + +<p>"Now tell me a story, mamma! tell me a story. You've +got to tell me stories as long as I stay here."</p> + +<p>So Mrs. March sat down on one side, and Nelly on the +other, and Mrs. March told them the story of the Master +Thief, out of the Brothers Grimm's "Fairy Stories of All<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span> +Lands"; and, just as she got to where the Master Thief +was planning to steal the bottom sheet from off the king's +bed, she looked up and saw that Rob was fast asleep.</p> + +<p>"Oh, that's good," she said; "that's the best thing that +could have happened to him. Now we'll go out and look at +the house again."</p> + +<p>"But, mamma," said Nelly, "I think I'll stay here. If +he should wake up, he would feel so lonely here; and he +can't get out of the hay."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, dear: that is very kind of you," replied Mrs. +March. And, as she went out of the barn, she said to herself, +"What a kind, thoughtful child Nelly is. She really +is like a little woman."</p> + +<p>Mrs. March could not find her husband and Billy anywhere; +so she sat down on the door-step of the house to +wait for them. She looked up and down the beautiful valley: +it seemed a great deal more than thirty miles long. +The mountains at the south end of it looked blue and hazy; +the great Sangre di Christo Mountains, which made the +western wall, looked very near; the snow on them shone +so brightly it dazzled Mrs. March's eyes to look at it. After +a time, she got up from the door-step and walked round to +the north side of the house.</p> + +<p>"Oh, there is Nelly's mountain!" she said. There stood +Pike's Peak, in full sight, to the northeast. It looked so +grand and so high at first, Mrs. March did not know it. +This, too, had a great deal of snow on it, and there were +white clouds floating round the top; it was the grandest +sight in the whole view. There were no other houses near; +she could see only a few in the valley; and she could not +see Rosita at all. The road down which they had come +seemed to end very soon among the hills.</p> + +<p>"We shall not have much more to do with neighbors +here than in the Pass," thought Mrs. March. "But I do<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span> +not care for that. One could never be lonely with these +mountains to look at."</p> + +<p>"Well, mum, here's the little feller's clo'es," said Billy, +coming up at this moment, with Rob's clothes hanging in +a limp wet bundle over his arm. "Now I'll jest make a +rousin' fire back here, 'n' you'll be astonished to see how +quick they'll dry. I've washed 'em in about five hundred +waters,—that medder mud's the meanest stuff to stick +ye ever see,—but they'll be dry in no time now."</p> + +<p>"Mamma!" called Nelly, from the barn; "Rob's awake. +He wants to get up: he says he won't lie here another minute."</p> + +<p>"I'll show him his clo'es," said Billy. "I guess that'll +convince him," and Billy carried the wet bundle into the +barn. Shouts of laughter followed, and in a minute more +Billy came out again, shaking all over with laughter. "I +jest offered 'em to him," said he, "'n' told him he could get +up 'n' put 'em on ef he wanted to; but I rayther thought +he'd better let 'em dry some fust."</p> + +<p>"What did he say?" asked Mrs. March.</p> + +<p>"He wanted to know how long it would take 'em to dry +'n' I told him the best part of an hour; 'twill be some +longer'n that, but I couldn't pretend to be exact to a minnit, +'n' he laid back on the hay 'n' sez he: 'You tell my +mamma to come right here 'n' finish that story she was a +tellin'."</p> + +<p>When Mrs. March went back into the barn, she shouted +aloud as soon as she saw Rob. He had crawled out of his +hay bed. It was too warm: there he sat bolt upright, with +his legs straight out in front of him. Nelly had drawn +the white drawer legs out to their full length, and set Rob's +shoes, toes up, in the hay at the end of them, so it looked +as if his legs were all that length; then Mr. March's gray +waistcoat came down nearly to his knees, and Billy's old<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span> +brown coat hung on his shoulders as loosely as a blanket. +He looked up at his mother with a perfectly grave face, and +did not speak. Nelly was laughing hard. "Isn't he too +funny, mamma?" said she.</p> + +<p>"You can laugh now if you want to, mamma," said Rob +politely. "I don't mind your laughing at papa's drawers +and waistcoat and Billy's old coat. That's quite different +from laughing at me."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, dear," said Mrs. March: "you're very +kind; but I can get along very comfortably without laughing +at you now. You're not half so funny as you were +when you were covered with the mud."</p> + +<p>It took so long to dry Rob's clothes, that it was nearly +dark when they got back to Rosita.</p> + +<p>"Well, I reckoned you liked your house so well you +weren't coming back to us at all," said the landlord, as +they drove up.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, sir," cried Rob, "that wasn't it. I fell into +the mud by the creek: I always fall into the water each new +place we go to. I did it the first thing up in the Pass."</p> + +<p>The landlord looked closely at him. "What! you been +into the creek in them clothes?"</p> + +<p>"Billy washed them," said Nelly; "they were all black +as mud."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" said the landlord. "Well, there ain't any thing +under Heaven that Long Billy can't do: that's certain."</p> + +<p>Mr. and Mrs. March thought so too, when one week later +they drove down to take possession of their home. Billy +had pleaded so earnestly to be allowed to do all the work +himself that Mr. March had consented; and had even promised +him that they would not come near the house until he +invited them. Then Billy set to work in good earnest, and +Miss Lucinda Harkiss set to work with him. This was the +young woman to whom Billy was engaged. She was coming<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span> +to be Mrs. March's servant. A very good time Lucinda +and Billy had all that week. It was almost like going to +housekeeping together for themselves. The first day Lucinda +swept and scrubbed the floors, and washed the windows +till they shone; then Billy stained all the floors dark +brown, and painted the window-sashes and the door-frames +brown; and this brown color was so pretty with the yellow +of the pine, that it made the rough boarded rooms look +almost handsome. While the paint was drying, Lucinda +and Billy drove over to Pine's ranch at the foot of one of +the Sangre di Christo mountains. They knew old Mr. Pine +very well; and he was very glad to have them make him a +visit. All one day Billy worked hard digging up young +pine-trees, and Lucinda gathered a great quantity of kinnikinnick +vines. Billy had told her how Mrs. March had +had them nailed up on the walls in the other house. The +next day they drove home early in the morning, and in the +afternoon Billy set out a row of the little pine-trees all +round the house. "Even if they don't grow, they'll look +green for a spell," he said to Lucinda; "an' ye never see a +woman hanker arter green stuff's Miss March does. There +wan't a livin' thing growin' in the Ute Pass, but what she +had it in a pitcher or a tumbler or a tin can, a settin' round +in her house. And as for that Nelly, she'd bring in her +arms full o' flowers every day o' her life. You'll like 'em +all, Lucinda, see if you don't. They ain't like most o' the +folks out here."</p> + +<p>Lucinda had a good many fears about coming to live +with Mrs. March. She had never been a servant; but she +wanted to be married to Billy as much as he wanted to be +married to her, and she thought if she could earn good +wages and lay all the money up, they could be married +sooner.</p> + +<p>"I shall like them well enough, I dare say," said Lucinda;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span> +"but I don't know how I'll stand being ordered +round."</p> + +<p>"Ordered round!" said Billy, in a scornful tone. "I +tell you they ain't the orderin' round kind; they're the reel +genuwine fust-class folks; an' genuwine fust-class folks +don't never order nobody to do nothing: I tell you I +shouldn't stand no orderin' any more'n you would. Mr. +March he always sez to me, 'We'd better do so and so,' +if there's anything he wants done; 'n' he works 's hard as +I do, any day, 'n' Miss March she's jest like him. You'll +see how 'twill be. I ain't a mite afeared."</p> + +<p>After the paint was dry, they nailed up the vines; and +Billy added to them some pine boughs with great clusters of +green cones on them which were beautiful. Then they unpacked +the boxes of furniture; and Billy showed Lucinda +how to put up the chintz curtains in the sitting-room, and +the white ones in the bedrooms, and, when it was all done, +it looked so pretty that Billy could not help saying:—</p> + +<p>"Don't you wish it was our house, Luce?" He always +called her Luce for short. "Can't take time for no three-storied +names 'n this country," said Billy; "two's too +many."</p> + +<p>Lucinda blushed a little, and said:—</p> + +<p>"We can make ours just as pretty some day, Billy."</p> + +<p>"That's so, Luce," said Billy: "you'll get lots o' idees +out o' Miss March. She's what I call a reel home-y woman. +I hain't never seen nobody I've took to so since I left +hum."</p> + +<p>When everything was ready, the house and the barns +and sheds all in order, and the whole enclosure raked over +and made as tidy as possible, Billy said:—</p> + +<p>"Now, we'll jest keep 'em waitn' one more day. You +make up a lot o' your best bread, and churn some butter; +'n' I'll go over to Pine's and pick two or three gallons o'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span> +raspberries. They're just ripe to pick now, 'n' this is the +last chance I'll get. Then you 'n' Miss March can preserve +'em. I know she wants some. I heard her say so when +we was a comin' up Hardscrabble Canyon."</p> + +<p>Something besides raspberries Billy brought back from +Pine's ranch that night,—something that he never dreamed +of getting, something which pleased him so greatly he fairly +snapped his fingers with delight,—it was a little pet fawn. +"Old-man Pine" had had it for several months; it had +strayed down out of the woods, when it was too young to +find its way back; he had found it early one morning lapping +milk out of the milk-pan he kept outside his cabin-door +for his dog Spotty. He had caught it without difficulty, +and tamed it, so that it followed him about like a puppy. +Sometimes it would disappear for a few days, but always +came back again. It was a lovely little creature, almost +white under its belly, and on the under side of its legs; +but all the rest of a beautiful bright red. When Billy told +old Mr. Pine about the March family, and about the twin +brother and sister, who were such nice children, the old +man said:—</p> + +<p>"Don't you think they'd like to have the fawn? It's a +pesky little thing, for all it's so pretty, an' I'm tired on't. +There was a man offered me seven dollars for it, a while +ago, but I thought I didn't want to let it go; but ye may +have it for them children if ye want it. Ye can tell 'em I +sent it to 'em; an' I'm the oldest settler in this valley, tell +'em. Yer must bring 'em over to see me some time."</p> + +<p>Billy promised to do so.</p> + +<p>"They'll go clean out o' their heads when they see the +critter," he added. "They've been a talkin' about deer +ever since they come: deer an' silver are the two things +they're full of. They've pretty near walked their little feet +off by this time, I expect, lookin' fur a mine. They took the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span> +idee's soon's they see the wagon-load o' ore I was haulin' +through the Ute Pass: that's when I fust knew 'em; an' I +declare to you, the youngsters hain't never let go on't, 'n' +I dunno's they ever will."</p> + +<p>"Mebbe, then, they'll find a mine yet," said old Pine. +"There's one o' the best mines in all Californy was found +by a little feller not more'n ten years old. He jest hauled +up a bush with solid gold a stickin' in the roots.</p> + +<p>"You don't say so!" said Billy. "Well, there ain't no +such free gold's that in this country; but I wouldn't like +any thing much better, next to findin' a mine myself, than +to have Mr. March's folks find one. They're the sort o' +folks ought to have money."</p> + +<p>Billy worked very late that night fencing a little bit of +the green meadow nearest the house, to keep the fawn in. +The little creature seemed shy and frightened; and, when +Billy drove away in the morning to bring the family down, +he charged Lucinda to go out often and speak to it and +feed it with sugar.</p> + +<p>"I'd like to have it get over its scare before Nelly sees +it," he said; "for, if it don't seem to be happy, she's just +the gal to go on the sly and let the critter out, so it could +go where it wants to."</p> + +<p>Billy was much disappointed, when he reached the hotel, +to learn that Mr. and Mrs. March and the children were +out. They had gone to one of the mines, and would not +be back till dinner-time; for they were going down into the +mine.</p> + +<p>"I never see any thing in all my life like that little chap," +said the landlord. "He don't rest a minute. I believe he +'n' his sister have walked over every foot o' ground within +five miles o' this house; 'n' there ain't a workin' mine in all +these gulches that he don't know by name; 'n' he'll tell you +who's the foreman 'n' how many workmen are on; 'n' he's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span> +got about a wheelbarrow full o' specimens o' one sort 'n' +another, for his museum, 's he calls it. The little girl she +seems a kind o' nurse to him, she's so steady; but they say +they're twins: you wouldn't ever think it."</p> + +<p>"No, that you wouldn't," replied Billy; "but they are. +I like the gal best myself. She don't say much; but there +ain't nothin' escapes her, 'n' she's just the sweetest-tempered +little thing that was ever born. She's too good: +that's the worst on't. I don't like to see youngsters always +doin' right; 't don't look healthy."</p> + +<p>Poor Lucinda's nice dinner was almost spoiled,—it had +to wait so long before the family came. Billy had not once +thought of the possibility of his not finding them at home, +and had called out to Lucinda, as he drove off:—</p> + +<p>"Now, mind, Luce, you have all ready at one, sharp. +We'll be here before that time."</p> + +<p>So, when Billy drove into the yard, at half-past two +o'clock, he felt quite crestfallen, and half afraid to see +Lucinda's face in the doorway. But she smiled pleasantly, +and only said:—</p> + +<p>"How punctual you are, to be sure! Dinner won't be +very good."</p> + +<p>"Never mind, Lucinda," said Mrs. March. "We were +not at home. It wasn't Billy's fault. He has been worrying +about you for an hour. It will taste very good to us all, +for we are hungry."</p> + +<p>Mrs. March praised every thing in the house, till Billy's +face and Lucinda's grew red with pleasure; and Mr. March +also praised everything out of doors.</p> + +<p>"Didn't I tell you, Luce," said Billy, at the first chance +he found to whisper in her ear, "didn't I tell you they was +nice folks to work for? They don't let you slave yourself +to death for 'em like some folks, 'n' never say so much 's +a thank you."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span></p> + +<p>The delight of Rob and Nelly in the fawn was greater +than could be told in words. They ran round and round +the enclosure, to see it upon all sides; they fed it, till it +would not eat another mouthful; they stood still, gazing at +it with almost unbelief in their faces.</p> + +<p>"Oh, is it really our own? Will it always stay?" they +cried. "It is too good to be true."</p> + +<p>I don't believe there was in all Colorado a happier family +than went to sleep under Mr. March's roof that night. +Everybody was entirely satisfied with the home and with +everybody in it. Even Watch and Trotter sat in the low-arched +doors of their new houses, and held their heads up, +and looked around them with an air of contentment and +pride. They had never had houses of their own before. +They had slept on the great pile of sawdust by the old mill; +but they walked straight into these little houses and took +possession of them as naturally as possible. They almost +made you think of people who, when they come into possession +of things much finer than they have been accustomed +to, try very hard to act as if they had had them all their +lives.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER IX</h2> + +<h4>WET MOUNTAIN VALLEY</h4> + + +<p>And now my story must skip over three whole years. +There is so much to tell you about Nelly, and her life in +Wet Mountain Valley, that, if I do not skip a good deal, +the story will be much too long. The first year was a very +happy and prosperous one. There were big crops of wheat +and hay, and they were sold for good prices, so that Mr. +March had more money than he needed to live on, and he +was so pleased that he spent it all for new things,—some +new books, some new furniture, and a nice new carriage +much more comfortable for Mrs. March to drive in than +the white-topped wagon. Mrs. March felt very sorry to +have this money spent; she wanted it put away to keep; +but, as I told you before, Mr. March always wanted to buy +every thing he liked, and he thought that there would always +be money enough.</p> + +<p>"Why, Sarah!" he said; "here's the land! It can't +run away! and we can always sell the hay and the wheat; +and the cattle go on increasing every year. We shall have +more and more money every year. By and by, when we get +things comfortable around us, we can lay up money; but +I really think we ought to make ourselves comfortable."</p> + +<p>So Mr. March bought everything that Billy said he would +like to have to work with on the farm, and he sent to Denver +for books and for clothes for Rob and Nelly, and almost +every month he added some new and pretty thing to the +house. Thus it went on until at the end of the year, all the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span> +money which had been made off the farm was gone, and all +their own little income had been spent too. Not a penny had +been laid up in the house except by Billy and Lucinda. They +had laid up two hundred and fifty dollars apiece. They +had each had three hundred and had spent only fifty.</p> + +<p>"Luce," said Billy, "one more such year's, this, an' we +can take that little house down to Cobb's and farm it for +ourselves."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Lucinda, hesitatingly, "but I'd a most rather +stay's we are. I don't ever want to leave Mrs. March 'n' +the children; and you 'n' I couldn't be together any more'n +we are now."</p> + +<p>"Why, Luce!" said Billy; and he walked out of the +kitchen without another word. He was grieved, Lucinda +ran after him.</p> + +<p>"Billy!" she said.</p> + +<p>"What?" said Billy, chopping away furiously at a big +pine log.</p> + +<p>"I didn't mean that I wouldn't go if you thought best; +only that I hated to leave the folks. Of course, I expect +we'll go when the time comes. You needn't get mad."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I ain't mad," said poor Billy; "but it sounded kind +o' disappintin', I tell yer. I like the folks's well's you do; +but a man wants to have his own place, and his children a +growin' up round him; but I shan't ask you to go till you're +ready: you may rest 'sured o' that." And with this half way +making up, Lucinda had to be satisfied.</p> + +<p>Before the second summer was over, Mr. March was quite +ready to acknowledge that it would have been wiser to +follow his wife's advice, and lay up all the money which they +did not absolutely need to spend. Just as the crops were +well up, and bidding fair to be as large as before, there +came all of a sudden, in a night, a great army of grasshoppers +and ate everything up. You little children in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span> +East who have seen grasshoppers only a few at a time, as +you walk through the fields in the summer, cannot have +the least idea of how terrible a thing an army of grasshoppers +can be. It comes through the air like a great cloud: +in less than a minute, the ground, the fences, the trees, the +bushes, the grass, the door-steps, the outsides of the windows, +are all covered thick with them; millions and millions +of millions, all eating, eating, as fast as they can eat. If +you drive over a road where they are, they rise up in great +masses, their wings making a whistling noise, and horses +are afraid to go along. Think of that: a great creature +like a horse afraid of such little creatures as grasshoppers! +Nobody would believe without seeing it, how a garden or +a field looks after one of these grasshopper armies has +passed over it. It looks as bare and brown as if it had been +burned with fire. There is not left the smallest bit of green +leaf in it. This is the way all Mr. March's fields looked in +one week after the grasshoppers came into the valley. All +the other farmers' fields were in the same condition. It +was enough to make your heart ache to look at them. After +there was nothing more left to eat, then the great army +spread its wings and moved on to the South.</p> + +<p>Mr. March looked around him in despair. It had all +happened so suddenly he was confused and perplexed. It +was almost like having your house burn down over your +head. In one week he had lost a whole year's income. It +was too late for the things to grow again before the autumn +frosts which come very early in the valley.</p> + +<p>This was real trouble. However, Mr. and Mrs. March +kept up good courage, and hoped it would never happen +again. They sold their pretty new carriage and all the other +things that they could spare, to get money to buy food for +themselves and for the cattle; and they told Billy and Lucinda +that they could not afford to keep them any longer.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span></p> + +<p>"We must do all our own work this winter, Billy," said +Mr. March; "if you don't get any thing better to do, I'll +be glad of you next summer; but this winter we have got to +be as saving as possible. Rob will help me, and Nelly'll help +her mother: we must put our shoulders to the wheel like +the rest."</p> + +<p>Billy was not surprised to hear this. On the morning +the grasshoppers appeared, he had said to Lucinda:—</p> + +<p>"Luce, do you see those pesky varmints? They'll jest +clean out this valley in about ten days, 'n' you 'n' me may's +well pack our trunks. There won't be victuals for any +extra mouths here this year, I tell you; I shouldn't wonder +if it jest about broke Mr. March up. He hain't got any +ready money to fall back on. He paid down about all he +had for this place, 'n' he's spent a sight this last year. +Blamed if I don't wish I hadn't asked him for a thing. He's +the generousest man ever was. It's a shame he should have +such luck. I don't count on next summer nuther, for the +ground'll be chuck full of the nasty beasts' eggs: ten to +one they'll be worse next year than they are this: there's +no knowin'. We might's well get married, Luce, an' if +there's any thing doing in the valley at all, I can allers get +it to do."</p> + +<p>So, early in the autumn Billy and Lucinda were married, +and went to live in "Cobbs's Cabin," a little log cabin +about two miles from Mr. March's place, on the road to +Rosita. The winter was a long and a hard one: hay was +scarce and dear; and all sorts of provisions were sold at +higher prices than ever before. The March family, however, +were well and in good spirits. Nelly and Rob enjoyed +working with their father and mother,—Rob in the barn +and out in the fields, and Nelly in the house. They still +studied an hour every day, and recited to their father in +the evening. Rob studied Latin, and Nelly studied arithmetic;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span> +and their mother read to them every night a few +pages of history, or some good book of travels. Rob did +not love to study, and did only what he must; but Nelly +grew more and more fond of books every day. She did not +care for her dolls any longer. Even the great wax doll +which Mrs. Williams had given her was now very seldom +taken out of the box. All Nelly wanted to make her happy +was a book: it seemed sometimes as if it did not make much +difference to her what sort of a book. She read every +thing she could find in the house; even volumes of sermons +she did not despise; and it was an odd thing to see a little +girl twelve years old reading a big, old leather bound volume +of sermons. Rob used to laugh at her and say:—</p> + +<p>"Oh, pshaw, Nell! what makes you read that? Read +Mayne Reid's stories: they're worth while. What do you +want to read sermons for, I'd like to know?" And Nelly +would laugh too, and say:—</p> + +<p>"Well, Rob, they aren't so nice as stories; but I do like +to read them. It's like hearing papa preach."</p> + +<p>To which Rob would reply, in a cautious whisper:—</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm glad we don't have to hear papa preach any +more. I hate sermons. I'm never going to church again's +long's I live; and, when I'm a man, I sha'n't make my +boys go to church if they don't want to."</p> + +<p>The third summer began just as the one before it had +begun, with a great promise of fine crops; but they were +no sooner fairly under way, than the grasshoppers came +again, and ate them all up. This was very discouraging. +Mr. March did not know what to do. He sold a good many +of his cows; and, before the summer was over, he sold some +of his books; but that money did not last long, and they +were really very poor. Now came the time when Nelly's +little head began to be full of plans for earning money. She<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span> +asked her mother, one day, to let her go up into Rosita and +sell some eggs.</p> + +<p>Mrs. March looked at her in surprise.</p> + +<p>"Why, Nell," she said, "you couldn't walk so far."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, I could," said Nelly. "Rob and I often walk +up to the top of the hill: it's only a little way from Billy's +house, and we often go there; and I know I could sell all +our eggs,—and some butter too, if we could make enough +to spare. I'd like to, too. I think it would be good fun."</p> + +<p>"I'll ask your father," replied Mrs. March. "I don't +think he'd be willing: but if we could get a little money +that way, it would be very nice. We don't need half the +eggs."</p> + +<p>When Mrs. March told her husband of Nelly's proposition, +his cheeks flushed.</p> + +<p>"What a child Nelly is!" he exclaimed. "I can't bear +to have her go round among those rough miners. I've +often thought myself of carrying things up there to sell; +but I thought my time was worth more on the farm than +any thing I could make selling eggs. Oh, Sarah!" he exclaimed, +"I never thought we should come to such a pass +as this."</p> + +<p>"Now, Robert, don't be foolish," said Mrs. March, +gayly. "There isn't the least disgrace in selling butter and +eggs. I'd as soon earn a living in that way as in any other. +But I wouldn't like to have Nelly run any risk of being +rudely treated."</p> + +<p>"I don't believe she would be," said Mr. March; "her +face is enough to make the roughest sort of a man good +to her. You know how Billy worshipped her; and he's a +pretty rough fellow on the surface. I think we might let +her try it once, and see what happens."</p> + +<p>And so it came to pass, that, early in the third summer +of their stay in Wet Mountain Valley, Nelly set off one<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span> +morning at six o'clock with a basket on her arm, holding +three dozen of eggs and two pounds of butter, which she +was to carry up into Rosita to sell. Rob pleaded hard to +go too, but his father would not consent.</p> + +<p>"Nelly will do better by herself," he said. "You will +be sure to get into some scrape if you go."</p> + +<p>"I don't care," said Rob, as he bade Nelly good-by: +"you just wait till trout time: see if I don't make him +let me go then. I can make more money selling trout than +you can off eggs, any day. A gentleman told me one day +when he drove by where I was fishing, one day last summer, +that he'd give me forty cents a pound for all I had +in my basket; and I told him I wasn't fishing to sell: I +was real mad. I didn't know then we were going to sell +things; but, if we are, I may as well sell trout; the creek's +full of them."</p> + +<p>"Well, we are going to sell things, I tell you," said +Nelly: "I don't know what else there is for us to do. We +haven't got any money; I think papa's real worried, and +mamma too; and you and I've just got to help. It's too +bad! I don't see what God made grasshoppers for."</p> + +<p>"To catch trout with," said Rob, solemnly: "there isn't +any thing else half so good."</p> + +<p>Nelly laughed, and set off at a brisk pace on the road +to Rosita. Her father stood in the barn door watching her. +As her little figure disappeared, he said aloud:—</p> + +<p>"God bless her! she's the sweetest child a man ever +had!"</p> + +<p>It was almost five miles from Mr. March's house to +Rosita. For the first half of the way, the road lay in the +open valley, and had no shade; but, as soon as it began to +wind in among the low hills, it had pine-trees on each side +of it; the little house where Billy and Lucinda lived stood +in a nook among these pines. Nelly reached this house<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span> +about seven o'clock, just as Billy and Lucinda were finishing +their breakfast. She walked in without knocking, as +she always did.</p> + +<p>"Bless my soul alive!" exclaimed Billy. "Why, what +on airth brings you here, to this time o' day, Nelly?"</p> + +<p>Nelly had placed her basket on the floor and sat down in a +rocking chair and was fanning herself with her sun-bonnet. +Her face was very red from the hot sun, but her eyes were +full of fun.</p> + +<p>"Going up to Rosita, Billy," she said. "Guess what I've +got in the basket."</p> + +<p>"A kitten," said Lucinda: "your mother promised me +one."</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear, no!" said Nelly; "a weasel ate them up last +Saturday night: all but one; and that one the old cat must +keep. Guess again."</p> + +<p>Billy did not speak. He guessed the truth.</p> + +<p>"Your luncheon," said Lucinda.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Nelly, "my luncheon's in there, on the top; +but underneath I've got eggs and I've got butter. I'm going +to sell them in Rosita, and mamma said I was to stop and +ask you what price I ought to tell the people. She didn't +know."</p> + +<p>Billy walked hastily out of the room and slammed the +door behind him. This was what Long Billy always did +when he felt badly about any thing. His first idea was +to get out in the open air. Lucinda looked after him in +astonishment. She did not think of any reason why he +should feel sorry about Nelly's selling the butter and eggs, +but she saw something was wrong with him.</p> + +<p>"Why, you don't say so, Nelly!" she replied. "Well, +I dare say you'll make a nice little penny. Eggs is thirty +cents, and butter thirty-five to forty: your mother's ought +to be forty. What're you goin' to do with the money?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Why, it isn't for myself!" said Nelly, in a tone of +great astonishment: "it's for papa and mamma. I don't +want any for myself. But you know we don't have hardly +any money now; and I asked mamma to let me see if I +couldn't get some in Rosita. Rob's going to sell trout too, +by and by: as soon as they're plenty."</p> + +<p>Billy came back into the room now; and, looking away +from Nelly, he said:—</p> + +<p>"See here, child: you let me carry them things up to town +for ye. Ye stay here with Luce. I've got to go up anyway +to-day or to-morrow. It's too fur for ye to walk."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, Billy, thank you!" said Nelly. "It isn't too far. +I've often and often walked up to the hill where you look +right into the streets. And I want to go; I wouldn't miss +it for any thing."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm goin' along with yer, anyhow," said Billy. +"Luce, you get me that flour-sack." And, as Lucinda went +into the closet to get it, he followed her in and shut the +door.</p> + +<p>"Ain't that a shame, Luce," he said, "to have that little +thing go round sellin' eggs? I expect they're awful hard +up, or they wouldn't ever have done it. I tell you it jest +cuts me. Mr. March don't know them miners 's well's I +do. I shall tell him it ain't no place for gals."</p> + +<p>"You're jest off all wrong now, Billy," replied Lucinda. +"It's you that don't know miners. There wouldn't a man +in Rosita say a rough word before Nelly no sooner'n you +would. They'll jest all take to her: you see if they don't. +And it's a real sensible thing for the children to do. I've +been thinking o' doing the same thing myself. There's +lots o' money to be made off eggs."</p> + +<p>Billy was unconvinced; but he was too wise to say so.</p> + +<p>"Well, well," he said, "we shall see. I'll go up with her +to-day, and tell her which houses are the best houses to go<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span> +to. If she's going to do it regular, she'd better have regular +houses, and not be a gaddin' all about town, knockin' +at doors. Oh, I tell you, Luce, it just cuts me! I can't +stand it."</p> + +<p>"Well, I don't see nothin' so very dreadful in it," replied +Lucinda. "The gal's got the sense of a woman: she'll look +out for herself as well as if she was twenty; and there's +lots o' money to be made off eggs; I tell you that."</p> + +<p>Nelly trudged along by Billy's side as cheery as a lark. +She showed him a little brown silk bag she had to bring +home the money in; it was in a pocket in her petticoat, and +she had to lift up her gown to get at it.</p> + +<p>"Mamma put that in yesterday," she said: "I asked her +to. I saw a lady in the cars once, Mrs. Williams: such a +beautiful lady,—she gave me that big wax doll. She carried +all her money in a pocket in her petticoat, under her +gown; because, she said, nobody could get at that to steal it."</p> + +<p>Billy laughed immoderately. The idea of a little girl's +pocket being picked on the road from Rosita down into Wet +Mountain Valley was very droll.</p> + +<p>"Well, Nelly," he said, "you've got a long head o' your +own; but I reckon you took a little more pains than you +needed to, that time. Nobody's goin' to think o' such a +thing as pickin' your pocket here."</p> + +<p>"Mamma thought it was a very good plan," said Nelly, +with an air of dignity; "and I think so too. Men can't tell +about women's pockets: pockets in trousers are much +harder to get at." At which Billy only laughed the harder; +and at night, when he went home and told Lucinda, he had +another fit of laughter over it.</p> + +<p>"To think o' that little mite standin' out to me that I +couldn't jedge about women's pockets, pockets in trousers +was so different! Oh, Lord!" said Billy, stretching his +long legs out on the wooden settee: "I thought I should<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span> +ha' died. You was right though, Luce, about the men. I'll +own up. That child can go from eend to eend o' thet town +safe's if she was one o' the Lord's angels in white,—if +that's what they wear,—an' wings on her shoulders: only +I never did believe much in the wings. But you oughter've +seen how the men looked at her. You know she's got a +different look about her somehow from most gals: she ain't +pretty, but you can't take your eyes off her; an' she's so +pretty spoken: that does it, more'n her looks. When we +come by the stamp-mill, at noon, the men was all pourin' +out; and afore I knew it we was right in the midst on 'em: +a runnin' an' cuffin' and tumblin' each other, and not +choosin' their words much. Nelly she took right hold o' +my hand, but she never said nothin'.</p> + +<p>"'Hullo, sis,' sez Jake Billings; and he pushed her little +sun-bonnet back off her head. I declare I'd a notion to +knock him over; but Nelly she looked up at him an' jest +laughed a little, and sez she:—</p> + +<p>"'Oh, please, sir, don't: you'll make me drop my eggs.' +And he looked as ashamed as I ever see a man. And he put +her bonnet right back on her head agin, and sez he:—</p> + +<p>"'Let me carry 'em: won't ye, sis?'</p> + +<p>"Ye see she wouldn't let me so much's touch the basket +all the way, though I kept askin'. She said she was goin' +to carry it always, an' she might as well begin; an' it wan't +heavy; but I know 'twas, for all her sayin' 'twan't, heavy, +that is, for her little pipes o' arms.</p> + +<p>"'No, thank you,' said she to Jake: 'Billy wanted to +carry them for me; but I wouldn't let him. I like to carry +them all the way myself, to see if I can. I'm going to come +every week, perhaps twice a week.'</p> + +<p>"'Be ye?' said Jake. 'Whose little gal are ye, and +where do ye live?'</p> + +<p>"Then I told him all about her folks; and all the rest o'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span> +the men they walked along with us 's quiet and steady you +wouldn't ha' known 'em; and Jake he took her right into +that Swede's house, you know: Jan, the one that boards +some o' the hands."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes!" said Lucinda; "and Ulrica, his wife's the +nicest woman among the whole set."</p> + +<p>"Well," continued Billy, "Jake he took her right in there. +'Jan'll buy all your eggs,' sez he: 'he's allers wantin' eggs.' +I followed on: Nelly she was goin' with Jake, jest as if +she'd ha' known him all her life; but she looked back, an' +sez, in that little voice o' hern, jest like the sweetest fiddle +I ever heard:—</p> + +<p>"'Come along, Billy,' sez she, 'and see if I can't sell +eggs.'</p> + +<p>"An' as soon as she got inter the house, she walked +right up to Ulrica, and held out her basket, and sez:—</p> + +<p>"'Would you like to buy some eggs to-day, ma'am? +I'm selling 'em for my papa and mamma: and they're thirty +cents a dozen.'</p> + +<p>"Ulrica don't understand English much, and Nelly's +words didn't sound like the English she was used to; an' +she couldn't make her out: but Jan he stepped up, and +explained to her; and then Ulrica took hold o' Nelly's long +braids o' hair, and lifted 'em up, and said something to Jan +in their own language; an' he nodded his head, an' looked +at Nelly real loving: and sez to me, in a whisper like:—</p> + +<p>"'The wife thinks she looks like our little Ulrica: and +she ain't unlike her, that's true; though she's bigger'n our +little girl when she died.'</p> + +<p>"All this time Nelly was a lookin' from one to the other +on 'em with her steady eyes, an' makin' 'em out. They took +all her eggs; but the butter they said she'd better take up +to Mr. Clapp's, the owner o' the Black Bull Mine. Mis +Clapp was very particular about her butter, an' 'd give a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span> +good price for it. So we went up to his house; and just as +soon as Mis Clapp sot her eyes on Nelly, I could see how +she took to her, by the way she spoke: an' she took the +butter an' paid her the eighty cents; and you'd oughter seen +Nelly a liftin' up her caliker gown to get to her petticoat, +and drawin' out her little silk bag, an' putting in the money,—countin' +it all as keerful as any old woman. Mis Clapp +she laughed, and sez she:—</p> + +<p>"'You're a real little business woman: ain't you?'</p> + +<p>"'Yes'm,' sez Nelly, as grave as a jedge, 'I'm goin' to +be. Would you like some more butter next week? I can +bring some on Saturday.'</p> + +<p>"Then Mis Clapp she jest engaged three pounds a week +regular: an' Nelly thought that'd be all they could spare +now."</p> + +<p>"Pshaw!" interrupted Lucinda: "Mis March ain't no +hand to skimp: but they might spare four's well's not."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Billy, "I guess they will when they see the +money a comin' in so easy. That'll be one dollar and sixty +cents a week; and the eggs'll be say one dollar an' eighty +more: that'll putty nigh keep 'em in meat 'n' flour. I'm real +glad they thought on't. But I expect it goes agin Mr. +March dreadful. That gal's the apple o' his eye: that's +what she is."</p> + +<p>"Well, he might go hisself, then," said Lucinda, scornfully, +"if he thinks it's too lowerin' for his gal: I don't see +nothin' to be ashamed on in't myself. If sellin' is honorable +business for men, I don't see why it ain't for women +'n' gals."</p> + +<p>"Now, Luce," exclaimed Billy, "don't be contrary. +You know's well's I do what I mean. There's plenty o' +things you don't want gals to do that's honorable enough, +so fur's thet goes. But I must tell ye what Ulrica did 's +we were comin' out o' town. There she stood waitin' in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span> +her door. She'd been watchin' for us all the arternoon; +an' 's soon's she see us, she began a beckonin and a +callin'; an' we crossed over, 'n' there she hed a little picture +o' their gal that was dead; an' sez she, holdin' it up to +me an' pointin' to Nelly:—</p> + +<p>"'Is it not the same face? Do you not see she haf the +same face as mine child?' And then she gave Nelly such +a hug and kiss, and Nelly she kissed her back just as kind's +could be, and sez she:—</p> + +<p>"'I am glad I look like your little girl; but you mustn't +cry, or I shall not come again.'</p> + +<p>"'Oh, yes, yes, come again: all days come again!' sez +Ulrica: and she was cryin' too all the time. Then she gave +Nelly a paper bag full of queer little square cakes with a +picture stamped on 'em. They have 'em at Christmas, she +said, in her country. Nelly wan't fur takin' 'em; but I +nudged her, 'n' told her to take 'em,—Ulrica'd be hurt if +she didn't. After we got away from the house, Nelly sez +to me, kind o' solemn, sez she:—</p> + +<p>"'Billy, I don't like to look like so many dead little girls. +Isn't it queer? That was what Mrs. Williams said,—that +nice lady: she used to cry, and say I looked like her little girl +that was dead; and now it's a little girl way off in Sweden. +Isn't it queer?"</p> + +<p>"But I tried to put it out of her head; but she kept +talking about it all the way. I think people needn't say +such things to children; it jest makes 'em gloomy for +nothing."</p> + +<p>The account Nelly gave to her father and mother of her +day in Rosita was almost as graphic as Billy's. She had +thoroughly enjoyed the day. She was pretty tired; but not +too much so to have a fine scamper with Rob and the pet +deer in the paddock after tea. And the air castles that she +and Rob built that night after they had gone to bed were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span> +many stories high. Nelly was sure that if her mother +would only make butter enough, and her father would buy +some more hens, she could earn all the money they needed +to have.</p> + +<p>"Why, Rob," she said, "you see I had more than two +dollars to-day; and the basket wasn't a bit heavy: I could +have carried twice as much. If I could make four dollars +each day, don't you see how soon it would be hundreds of +dollars? hundreds, Rob!"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Rob; "and I could make as much more by +the trout: and there would be hundreds and hundreds. And +strawberries, Nell! Strawberries! why couldn't we sell +strawberries? Old Mr. Pine said we could have all we +could pick."</p> + +<p>"I thought of that," replied Nelly; "but we haven't any +horses now to carry us over there. You know we always +went in the wagon."</p> + +<p>"Pooh!" said Rob, "we could go just as well in the +ox-cart."</p> + +<p>"But wouldn't it take all day to get there?" said the +wise Nelly: "to get there and back?"</p> + +<p>"Oh," said Rob, "I never thought of that. Perhaps +Mr. Scholfield would lend us his horses some day."</p> + +<p>"I don't believe papa would—like—to—borrow," +said Nelly, drowsily; and in a second more she was sound +asleep.</p> + +<p>Mr. and Mrs. March, also, were building some air castles, +resting on the same foundations as Rob's and Nelly's. +Nelly's happy and animated face when she returned, and +her enthusiastic account of her day's work, had surprised +both her father and mother.</p> + +<p>"I thought she would be so tired out she would never +want to go again," said Mrs. March; "but she is full of +the idea of going twice a week, all the time."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span></p> + +<p>"The exercise is not bad for her," replied Mr. March, +hesitatingly: "I have no fears about that. And I suppose +it is a false pride which makes me shrink so from letting +her carry about things to sell. We are very poor, and we +do need the money; and the child's impulse to help us is a +true and noble one; but I can't be wholly reconciled to the +idea yet. If we do permit it, I shall keep an exact account +of every penny the dear child brings into this house; and, +if we are ever in comfortable circumstances again, I shall +pay it all back to her with interest. I have made up my +mind to that."</p> + +<p>"It will be a nice fund to pay for her having a year or +two at some good school, when she is older," said Mrs. +March, cheerfully; "and I do not feel as you do about her +selling things. I think it will never do her the least harm +in any way. Some of the best and noblest people in the +world have gone through just such struggles in their youth. +I see no disgrace in it: not the least; and I have perfect +faith in Nelly's good behavior under all circumstances."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Mr. March, "she can be trusted anywhere. +I only wish Rob had half her steadiness of head."</p> + +<p>"Rob will come out all right," said Mrs. March: "you +don't do justice to him. His heart is in the right place."</p> + +<p>Mr. March laughed.</p> + +<p>"You never will hear a word against Rob," said he.</p> + +<p>"Nor you against Nelly," replied Mrs. March. "Now +I think Nelly's obstinacy is quite as serious a fault as Rob's +hasty impulsiveness."</p> + +<p>"Nelly's obstinacy!" exclaimed Mr March: "what do +you mean? I never saw a trace of it."</p> + +<p>"No: you never would," said Mrs. March, "because you +never have occasion to deal with her in little matters. To +me she is always obedient; but with Rob she is as unyielding +as a rock in the most trifling matters. When they were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span> +little it was quite different,—while he was ill so much, you +know; then she used to give up to him so much I thought +it would spoil him. But now she literally rules the boy; +and I can't help it. Why, the other day they had a really +serious quarrel as to where their hair-brushes should be +kept. I don't know what made Rob stand out so: usually +he gives up. I did not interfere, because I wish them to +settle all such matters <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'thmselves'">themselves</ins>; but I heard Nelly say:—</p> + +<p>"'Rob March! you can move those hair-brushes just as +often as you please: it won't make the least difference. I +shall move them right back again into this drawer, if it's +every day of your life till you're fifty years old!'</p> + +<p>"'I sha'n't live with you when I'm fifty,' said Rob: +'so you'll have to leave off before then. And I won't have +the hair-brush box in the drawer. It doesn't look bad on +the top of the bureau; and I want it where I can get at it +easy.'</p> + +<p>"'I'll take it out for you,' said Nelly, 'as often as you +want it, if you're too lazy; but it's going to be in the +drawer.'"</p> + +<p>Mr. March laughed heartily.</p> + +<p>"Well, wasn't Nelly right?" he said. "If I recollect +right, the box is a shabby old box, much better out of +sight."</p> + +<p>"Oh! of course you'd take Nelly's part," said Mrs. +March, half playfully, half in earnest.</p> + +<p>"Well, which won?" said Mr. March.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Nelly, of course. She always does," replied Mrs. +March.</p> + +<p>"I'm glad of it," laughed Mr. March. And there the +conversation dropped.</p> + +<p>The next day Nelly followed her father out to the barn +after breakfast.</p> + +<p>"Papa," said she, "I want to ask you something."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What is it, little daughter?" he replied.</p> + +<p>"If I could get four dollars each time I went to Rosita, +and should go twice every week, how much would that be +in a year?" said Nelly.</p> + +<p>"Four hundred dollars, my child," replied Mr. March.</p> + +<p>"Is not that a good deal of money?" said Nelly: +"wouldn't it buy almost all we want?"</p> + +<p>"It would buy enough food for us to eat, dear," said +Mr. March: "not much more than that."</p> + +<p>"Well, Rob could get a good deal for trout too," said +Nelly, resolutely: "he's going to fish, next week: and they're +forty cents for one pound; and I'm going to take Rob up +with me, the next time, and show him how to sell things. +It is very easy."</p> + +<p>"Do you like it, Nell,—really like it?" said her father.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes!" replied Nelly; "it's splendid! It's the nicest +thing I ever did. I like to see the people, and to count the +money; and then it is so nice to help too, papa! Oh! you +will let us help: won't you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, my child, we will let you help us this summer, +because we are really very poor just now; but I hope next +year we will not be in such straits. You and Rob are dear, +good children to want to work. Papa will never forget it."</p> + +<p>Nelly put her hand in her father's, and walked along in +silence by his side for a few minutes. Then suddenly catching +sight of Rob in the field, she exclaimed:—</p> + +<p>"Oh! there's Rob going down to the creek now to fish. +I will go and tell him it is all settled. I can help him fish. +I shall put the grasshoppers on the hook: I hate it, and I +said I'd never do it again; but now that it's for the money, +I shall." And she ran off as fast as she could, to join Rob.</p> + +<p>All that morning Rob fished and Nelly stuck grasshoppers +on the hook for him. At noon, they were miles away<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span> +from the house: they had followed up the creek without +noticing how far they were going.</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear!" said Rob, looking up at the sun, "look at +that old sun: he's just galloped all this morning. I think +his horses are running away. Did papa show you that picture +of him in the 'Mythology'? It was a splendid man, +in a chariot, standing up, and driving four horses. They +thought the sun was really a man. Say, Nell, let's don't +go home yet."</p> + +<p>"I'm so hungry!" said Nelly, whose share of the amusement +was not so exciting as Rob's.</p> + +<p>"Pshaw!" said Rob: "I wonder what's the reason girls +get hungry so much sooner than boys."</p> + +<p>"They don't," said Nelly, doggedly: "they've got stomachs +just alike. You're as hungry as you can be; only you +won't say so. I know you are."</p> + +<p>Rob did not deny it; in fact, as soon as Nelly had said +the word "hungry," he had begun to feel a dreadful gnawing +in the region of his stomach.</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you, Nell," he exclaimed: "we'll cook a trout +on a hot stone. I know how. Billy did it one day last +summer. You just get a lot of dried sticks and things, and +pile them up; and I'll find a flat stone."</p> + +<p>In a few minutes, they had a big fire, and a large flat +stone standing up in the hottest part of the blaze.</p> + +<p>"There!" said Rob, rubbing his hands: "now you'll +see a dinner fit for a king. We'll have a trout apiece."</p> + +<p>"Good big ones!" said Nelly. "How do you tell when +the stone is hot enough?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! if it burns a stick to hold it on it, it's too hot, and +you let it cool a while," replied Rob, with a patronizing +tone; as much as to say, "Girls did not know much about +cooking on hot stones."</p> + +<p>Girls knew more about getting hot stones out of fires,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span> +however, than boys did, in this instance. Poor Rob burnt +his fingers badly, trying to pull the stone out by taking hold +of it with a handful of thick green leaves.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Rob! Rob!" screamed Nelly: "you'll burn you!"</p> + +<p>But it was too late. Rob had grasped the stone with all +his usual impetuosity, and the leaves had shrivelled up +instantly, like cobwebs, the stone was so hot. He let it fall +back into the fire, and danced about, shaking his burnt +fingers, and screwing up his face very hard, to keep from +crying.</p> + +<p>"Oh, that was too bad, Rob!" cried Nelly. "Why +didn't you let me get it out?"</p> + +<p>"You get it out!" cried Rob, quite angry; "you get it +out! I'd like to see you! That's the way Billy took his +out. There isn't any other way."</p> + +<p>Nelly had run off a few steps for a big stick. Presently +she came back; and, without saying a word to Rob, put the +end of the stick under the stone, and lifted it up and rolled +it over and over, till she had it entirely out of the ashes and +hot brands, and on a smooth, clean place in the grass. Then +she took a little twig, and held it close to the stone, to see +if it were still hot. The twig smoked.</p> + +<p>"Oh! it's lots too hot," said Rob, meekly. "What made +you think of that way of getting it out, Nell?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know," said Nelly: "your burning your fingers, +I guess."</p> + +<p>Then they cut open two nice trout, and Rob scraped them +clean with his knife; and, as soon as the stone was cool +enough, they laid them on the hot stone. Oh, how good +they smelled as soon as they began to cook, and the fat +began to ooze out! When the under side was nice and +brown, Rob turned them over with two sticks carefully; +and, in a few minutes more, they were done. Then he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span> +stuck a pointed stick through the biggest one, and handed +it very politely to Nelly, saying:—</p> + +<p>"Won't you be helped to some fish, Miss Nelly March?"</p> + +<p>Nelly held out two pointed sticks to take it; and then she +ran round and round with it, for a minute, to cool it; and +then she took it by the tail and ate it up in less time than it +has taken to write this page. Rob ate his more slowly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I wish we had cooked four," said Nelly.</p> + +<p>Rob looked at his basket. It was not much more than +half full.</p> + +<p>"I can't fish any more," he said: "my fingers hurt so. +Don't let's eat up any more. We can have a good supper +when we get home. Let's keep all these to sell."</p> + +<p>"Of course we will, Rob," said Nelly, quite ashamed: +"I was a pig."</p> + +<p>"Pigs don't eat trout, I guess," said Rob laughing.</p> + +<p>"No," said Nelly; "but they always want more. I was +a real pig. Now let's hurry home. I'm afraid we're a long +way off."</p> + +<p>"Well, they know we're fishing," said Rob: "they won't +worry. It's good mamma's got over worrying about my +falling into the creek."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER X</h2> + +<h4>ROB AND NELLY GO INTO BUSINESS</h4> + + +<p>They were indeed a long way from home; much farther +than they dreamed. It was past four o'clock when they +reached the house, and Mrs. March had begun to be a little +anxious about them. She was much pleased when she saw +the basket of trout.</p> + +<p>"Oh, what a nice supper we will have!" she exclaimed.</p> + +<p>Rob and Nelly looked at each other and at her.</p> + +<p>"Oh, mamma!" Nelly began, but checked herself at +once, and looked again at Rob.</p> + +<p>"Why, what is the matter, children?" said Mrs. March.</p> + +<p>"Nothing. You can have them if you want them," said +Rob, rather forlornly.</p> + +<p>"Why, child, what else did you get them for?" exclaimed +their mother, who had forgotten all about Rob's +plan of selling trout.</p> + +<p>"To sell," said Rob. "There's as many as four pounds +there, I guess: that's most two dollars; but you can have +them. I don't care. I'll go get some more to-morrow, if +my hand's well."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" said Mrs. March, "I had forgotten about it. +So you mean to be a little fish-merchant, do you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Nelly's an egg-merchant, an egg and butter merchant; +and I'm going to be a fish and fruit merchant; and +we're going to take care of you and papa that way," said +Rob, in an excited tone. "And I was going to begin to-morrow; +but I can begin next day, just as well: let's have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span> +these for supper; they're splendid; we've cooked two +already."</p> + +<p>The tears came into Mrs. March's eyes.</p> + +<p>"We'll ask papa, and see what he says," she said. "If +we're really going to be merchants, we mustn't eat up all +our goods: that's certain. But what fruits do you propose +to deal in, Mr. March? Fruits seem to me rather scarce in +this valley."</p> + +<p>"Oh! strawberries, next month," said Rob; "and then +raspberries, and then wild currants, and then wild grapes. +There are lots and lots of them on the creek, you know. +And we can get carried up to Mr. Pine's, and pick berries +up above his ranch. He said we might have all we could +pick."</p> + +<p>When they asked Mr. March about the trout, he laughed, +and said:—</p> + +<p>"I think we must take a vote of all the partners. This +family is a partnership now; the 'March firm' we must +call ourselves; four partners, all working to make money +for the firm: now let's vote. All that are in favor of eating +the trout for supper, hold up their right hand."</p> + +<p>Nobody's hand went up but Rob's.</p> + +<p>"Three against you, Rob," said his father: "you'll have +to go without your trout this time. It is voted by a majority +of the firm that the trout be sold."</p> + +<p>"I didn't want"—Rob began, but checked himself, and +looked at his mother. She nodded and smiled, but said +nothing. A little while afterward, when she found Rob +alone, she put her arms around him, and kissed him, and +said:—</p> + +<p>"I understood about the trout, Rob. You thought I +wanted some for my supper: didn't you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, mamma," said Rob: "that was it. I didn't care +so much about them; but it seemed awful mean to keep you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span> +from having them. Nelly and I have each had one; they +were splendid. Next time I'll just catch one basketful to +sell, and one to eat."</p> + +<p>The next day, Rob and Nelly set off together at six +o'clock for Rosita: Rob with his trout, and Nelly with eggs +and butter. They stopped a minute to speak to Lucinda +and Billy, as they passed their house. Billy was not there. +He had gone to work for Mr. Pine, Lucinda said, and +would not be at home for a week.</p> + +<p>"You like it: don't you, Nelly?" she said.</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed!" said Nelly: "I think it's fun. And the +people are all so kind: that Swede woman kissed me because +I look so much like her little girl. I am going there again +to-day. They keep boarders, you know; and she wants eggs +every time I come, she said. I thought perhaps they'd take +Rob's trout too."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no! they won't," said Lucinda. "Trout is too dear +eatin' for such boarders 's they keep. You take the trout +right up to Miss Clapp's. She'll take 'em all, an' as many +more 's you can ketch."</p> + +<p>By the middle of the afternoon, the children were at +Lucinda's door again. They both ran in shouting:—</p> + +<p>"Lucinda! Lucinda! we've sold every thing; and we've +got five dollars and seventy-five cents! Now what do you +say? Won't mamma be glad? Couldn't anybody get very +rich this way, if they only kept on? Isn't it splendid?"</p> + +<p>"You dear little innocent lambs," said Lucinda: "it's +much you know about gettin' rich, or bein' poor."</p> + +<p>"Why, we are poor now; very, very poor: papa said so," +interrupted Nelly. "That's the reason he lets us sell +things."</p> + +<p>"Oh, well! your pa don't know nothin' about bein' real +poor," said Lucinda: "and I don't suppose he ever will;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span> +but it's a good thing you're a bringin' in somethin' this +year. It's a dreadful year on everybody."</p> + +<p>"Yes; papa said we were a real help," said Nelly: "he +said so last night."</p> + +<p>"Luce," exclaimed Rob, "what do you think Jan is +going to make for us? He's taken the measure of us to-day; +he showed us a picture of a man and a woman with +them on. They're real nice to carry things with: you don't +feel the weight a bit, he says. In his country, everybody +wears them on their shoulders,—everybody that has any +thing heavy to carry. They're something like our ox-yoke,—only +with a straight piece, that comes out; and we can +hang a basket on each end, and run along just as if we +weren't carrying any thing. They're real nice folks, Jan +and his wife. They're the nicest folks in Rosita."</p> + +<p>"Oh! not so nice as Mrs. Clapp, Rob," said Nelly.</p> + +<p>"Yes, they are too; lots nicer. They don't speak so +fine and mincing: but I like them lots better; they're some +fun. And Luce," he continued, "they've got a picture-book +full of pictures of the way people dress in their country; +and they let us look at it. It was splendid. And Ulrica +she keeps taking hold of Nelly's hair, and lifting up the +braids and looking at them, and talking to Jan in her own +language."</p> + +<p>"It makes her cry, though," said Nelly. "I wish she +wouldn't."</p> + +<p>"But what is this Jan is going to make you?" asked +Lucinda: "a real yoke, such as I've seen the men wear to +bring up two water-buckets to once? I don't believe your +pa and ma'll let you wear it."</p> + +<p>"Why not?" said Nelly: "does it look awful on your +shoulders?"</p> + +<p>"Well, you know how the ox-yoke looks on old Starbuckle<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span> +and Jim," said Rob. "It's a good deal like that: I +saw one in the picture-book."</p> + +<p>"But we're not going to be yoked together," said Nelly. +"It can't look like that."</p> + +<p>"No, no," said Lucinda, "not a bit. They're real handy +things. Lots o' the men have them, to carry water-buckets +up the hill with in Rosita. They just make 'em out of a +bent sapling, with two hooks at each end. You'll find them +a heap o' help."</p> + +<p>"Then I shall wear it, no matter how it looks," said +Nelly, resolutely.</p> + +<p>"We needn't wear them in the streets," said Rob: "we +can take them off just outside the town, and hide them +among the trees."</p> + +<p>"Now, Rob," exclaimed Nelly, "I'd be ashamed to do +that! That would look as if we were too proud to be seen +in them. I shall wear mine into all the houses."</p> + +<p>"Wait till you see how it feels, Nelly," said Lucinda. +"Perhaps you won't like it so well's you think."</p> + +<p>When Nelly and Rob told their father and mother about +the shoulder-yokes that the Swede Jan was going to make +for them, both Mr. and Mrs. March laughed heartily.</p> + +<p>"Upon my word," said Mr. March, "you are going to +look like little merchants in good earnest: aren't you?"</p> + +<p>"Don't you suppose they will hurt your shoulders?" +asked Mrs. March.</p> + +<p>"Ulrica said they didn't," replied Nelly. "She said she +had worn one a great deal. She puts a little cushion under +the place where they come on your neck. She says we can +carry twice as much on those as we can in our hands."</p> + +<p>It was arranged now that Rob and Nelly should, for the +present, go up to Rosita twice a week, on Tuesdays and +Fridays. Mr. March reckoned that they would be able to +spare butter and eggs enough to bring them five or six dollars<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span> +each week. The money from the trout they did not +allow themselves to count on, because it would be uncertain; +but Rob made most magnificent calculations from it. +"Four dollars a week, at least," he said; "and that will +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'by'">be</ins> one way to pay off those old grasshoppers. I'll make +a good many of them work for us: see if I don't!"</p> + +<p>The next time Rob and Nelly went to Rosita, when they +bade their mother good-by, they said:—</p> + +<p>"Be on the lookout for us, mamma, this afternoon. +You'll see us coming down the road with our yokes on."</p> + +<p>So Mrs. March began to watch, about three o'clock; and, +sure enough, about four, there she saw them coming down +the lane which led from the main road to their house. They +were coming very fast, at a sort of hop-skip-and-jump pace, +but keeping step with each other exactly. A sort of slender +pole seemed to be growing out of each shoulder; from this +hung slender rods, and on the end of each rod was fastened +a basket or a pail, Rob's yoke had two pails; Nelly's had +two baskets. As the children ran, they took hold of the +rods with their hands, just above the baskets and pails. +This steadied them, and also seemed to be a sort of support +in walking. As soon as the children saw their mother, +they quickened their steps, and came into the yard breathless.</p> + +<p>"Oh, they are splendid!"</p> + +<p>"Why, they're just as light as any thing!"</p> + +<p>"They don't hurt your neck a bit!"</p> + +<p>"See the nice baskets Ulrica gave us! Jan made them +himself out of willows," shouted they, both talking at once, +and each out of breath. Then Nelly slipped off her yoke, +and, before her mother knew what she was about, had tried +to put it on her shoulders; but her mother was too tall: +Nelly could not reach up.</p> + +<p>"Oh! do try it on, mamma," she said: "just to see how +nice it is."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span></p> + +<p>Mrs. March tried; but the yoke had been carefully adjusted +to Nelly's slender little figure, and Mrs. March +could not put it on.</p> + +<p>"Well, if you only could, mamma, you'd see how easy +it is," said Nelly, slipping it on her shoulders again, and +racing down to the gate to meet her father, who was just +coming in.</p> + +<p>Mr. March stopped short, and stared at Nelly for a +minute.</p> + +<p>"Why, Nell," he said, "I did not know what you were. +I thought you were some new kind of animal, with horns +growing out lengthwise from your shoulders."</p> + +<p>"So we are! so we are!" shouted Rob, running up so +fast that the pails on the rods of his yoke swung back and +forth high up in the air. "We are the four-armed boy +and girl of Rosita. They'll want us for a show. Four arms +on a boy are as wonderful as two heads on a calf."</p> + +<p>How Mr. March did laugh! The children's fun was +contagious. He seized Rob's yoke, and tried to put it on +his own shoulders; but it was as much too small for him +as Nelly's had been for her mother. Then he sat down on +the fence, and examined the yokes carefully. They were +beautifully made out of very slender young aspen-trees, +which could be easily bent into place. The wood was +almost white, and shone like satin: Jan had rubbed it so +long.</p> + +<p>"He says when the white gets dirty he will paint them +for us," said Nelly: "all bright colors, as they have them +in Sweden. But while they keep clean they are prettier +white."</p> + +<p>Ulrica had put a soft cushion of red cloth at the place +where the yoke rested on the neck behind; also, on each rod +just where the hands grasped them. Mrs. March examined +them carefully.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span></p> + +<p>"This is beautiful cloth," she said: "I wonder where +the woman got it."</p> + +<p>"Oh! she has a big roll of it in a chest," said Nelly. "I +saw it; and a big piece of beautiful blue, too. It was made +in Sweden, she says; and she has a queer gown, which was +her little girl's that is dead, all made of this red and blue +cloth, with—oh!—millions of little silver buttons sewed +on it, all down the front. She wanted me to try it on; but +I did not like to. It was too small, too: not too short; I +think it would have come down to my feet. Do little girls +in Sweden wear long gowns, like grown-up ladies, +mamma?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know, dear," said Mrs. March.</p> + +<p>"She has some of the little girl's hair in the same chest; +and she took it out and held it close to mine."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Rob: "I didn't want her to. How did we +know she was clean?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, for shame, Rob!" cried Nelly: "they're all as +clean as pins; you know they are. But I didn't like her to +do it, because it made her cry."</p> + +<p>After supper they had a great time deciding where to +keep the yokes. Rob wanted them hung up on the wall.</p> + +<p>"They look just as pretty as the antlers old Mr. Pine +has upon the wall in his house," said Rob; "and we can't +ever have any antlers, unless we shoot a deer ourselves. +Mr. Pine said a man offered him fifty dollars for them; +but he wouldn't take it. I think our yokes look just about +as pretty."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Rob!" exclaimed Nelly, "how can you talk so? +They are not pretty a bit; and you know it!"</p> + +<p>"I don't either!" said Rob: "I do think they're pretty; +honest, I do."</p> + +<p>While they spoke, Mrs. March was hanging one of the +yokes on the wall, by a bit of bright red tape, tied in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span> +middle. She hung it quite low, between the door and the +south window. Then she hung Nelly's sun-bonnet on the +nail above it, and Nelly's little red shawl over one end of +the yoke.</p> + +<p>"There," she said, "you are right, Rob. It makes quite +a pretty hat-rack."</p> + +<p>"So it does," said Mr. March. "Now we'll put the +other one up the other side the door; and that shall be +Rob's, to hang his coat and jacket on."</p> + +<p>"My jacket isn't pretty, though, like Nell's shawl," said +Rob, wistfully. "Why don't men wear red jackets in this +country? In that book of Jan's ever so many of the men +have red jackets on, with silver buttons; and they're splendid. +Jan has one too in the chest; but he doesn't wear it +here, because it would make the folks laugh, he says: it is +so different from other clothes here. He put it on for us +while Ulrica was showing Nelly the little girl's gown. It +did look queer; it came down most to his knees, and had +great flaps on the side, and big silver buttons on the front, +as big as dollars. But it was splendid: a great deal handsomer +than the uniform the Mayfield guards wore."</p> + +<p>When Billy came home from Mr. Pike's, Lucinda told +him about the yokes which Jan had made for the children +to wear, to carry their baskets and pails on. Billy listened +with a disturbed face.</p> + +<p>"Miss March'll never let 'em wear 'em: will she?"</p> + +<p>"I donno," said Lucinda: "Miss March's got heaps of +sense; an' the children was jest tickled to death with them. +They come racin' down the hill with 'em on, 's proud as +militia-men on trainin'-day. But how 'twill be about wearin' +'em round town I donno."</p> + +<p>"It'll never do in the world," said Billy. "The boys 'll +all follow 'em, and hoot and halloo; and Rob 'll be fightin' +right an' left, the fust thing you know. It's a bad business,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span> +bad business. I donno what put it into that pesky Swede's +head, anyhow."</p> + +<p>"Oh! jest to help the children," said Lucinda. "From +what the children say, Jan an' his wife both seem to have +kind o' adopted 'em. You know how she takes on over +Nelly, 'cause she looks so like her own little gal."</p> + +<p>"I know it," said Billy. "Blamed if I don't wish I +hadn't taken 'em there. You'll see they can't wear the +things in Rosita."</p> + +<p>This time Billy was right. He had been mistaken in +thinking that the miners would treat Nelly roughly; but he +was right now about the boys. The next time Nelly and +Rob went up to Rosita, they entered the town a little before +nine o'clock: it was just the time when all the children were +on their way to school. As soon as Rob and Nelly appeared +with their little yokes on their shoulders, and a basket and +pail swinging from each rod, the boys on the street set up +a loud shout, and all rushed towards them.</p> + +<p>"Hullo, bub! what kind o' harness 've you got on?"</p> + +<p>"Did your pa cut down his ox-yoke to fit ye?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, my! look at the gal wearin' one too," they cried; +and some of the rudest of the boys pressed up close, and +tried to take off the covers of the baskets and pails. In less +than a second, Rob had slipped his yoke off his shoulders, +and thrown it on the ground, baskets and all; and sprung +in front of Nelly, doubling up his fists, and pushing the +boys back, crying:—</p> + +<p>"You let us alone, now: you'd better!"</p> + +<p>"Hush! hush! Rob," said Nelly, who was quite white +with terror. "Come right into this store: the gentleman +that keeps the store won't let them touch us."</p> + +<p>And Nelly slipped into the store, and as quick as lightning +took off her yoke and put it on the floor; and, saying +to the astonished storekeeper, "Please let my things stay<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span> +there a minute; the boys are tormenting my brother," she +ran back into the centre of the crowd, snatched up both +Rob's baskets of trout, and, pushing Rob before her, came +back into the store. The crowd of boys followed on, and +were coming up the store steps; but the storekeeper ordered +them back.</p> + +<p>"Go away!" he said: "you ought to be ashamed of +yourselves, tormenting these children so. I'd like to thrash +every one of you! Go away!"</p> + +<p>The boys shrank away, ashamed; and the storekeeper +went up to Nelly, who was sitting down on a nail-keg, +trembling with excitement.</p> + +<p>"What is this thing, anyhow?" said he, taking up the +yoke. "Oh, I see,—to carry your pails on."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," said Nelly; "and it's a great help. We have +to walk so far the baskets feel real heavy before we get +here. Jan, the Swede man, made them for us. It is too +bad the boys won't let us wear them."</p> + +<p>"Are you Mr. March's little girl?" said the shopkeeper.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Nelly; "and that's my brother," pointing to +Rob, who was still standing on the steps, shaking his fists +at the retreating boys and calling after them.</p> + +<p>"He'd better let 'em alone," said the shopkeeper. "The +more notice ye take of 'em, the more they'll pester ye. But +I reckon ye can't wear the yokes any more; I wouldn't if I +was you. You tell your father that Mr. Martin told ye to +leave 'em off. Ye can leave 'em here, if ye're a mind to. +Some time when your father's a drivin' in he can stop and +get 'em."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Nelly: "I hadn't any thought of wearing +them again. All I wanted was to get in here and be safe, +so they shouldn't break my eggs: I've got four dozen eggs +in one pail. I think it is real cruel in the boys to plague +us so." And Nelly began to cry.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span></p> + +<p>"There, there, don't ye cry about it; 'tain't any use. +Here's a stick of candy for ye," said the kind-hearted Mr. +Martin. "The Rosita boys are a terrible rough set."</p> + +<p>"We might take care not to get into town till after +they're in school," said Nelly, taking the candy and breaking +it in two, and handing half of it to Rob. "Thank you +for the candy, sir. I'm sorry I cried: I guess it was because +I was so frightened. Oh! there's Ulrica now!" And she +ran to the door, and called, "Ulrica! Ulrica!"</p> + +<p>Ulrica came running as fast as possible, soon as she +heard Nelly's voice. She looked surprised enough when +she saw the two yokes lying on the floor, and Nelly's face +all wet with tears, and Rob's deep-red with anger. When +Nelly told her what the matter was, she said some very +loud words in Swedish, which I am much afraid were +oaths. Then she turned to Mr. Martin, and said:—</p> + +<p>"Now, is not that shame—that two children like this +will not be to be let alone in these the streets? I carry the +yokes myself. Come to mine house."</p> + +<p>So saying, Ulrica lifted both the yokes up on her strong +shoulders, and, taking Nelly's biggest pail in one hand, +strode away with long steps.</p> + +<p>"Come on mit me," she said; "come straight. I like +to see the boy that shall dare you touch." And as she +passed the boys, who had gathered sullenly in a little knot +on the sidewalk, she shook her head at them, and began to +say something to them in her broken English; but, finding +the English come too slow, she broke into Swedish, and +talked louder and faster. But the boys only laughed at her, +and cried:—</p> + +<p>"Go it, old Swedy!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Ulrica, don't let's speak to them," whispered Nelly. +"Be quiet, Rob!" And she dragged Rob along with a firm +hand.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Now I goes mit you to the houses mineself," said +Ulrica. "It shall be no more that the good-for-nothings +have room that to you they one word speak."</p> + +<p>So Ulrica put on her best gown, and a clean white handkerchief +over her head, and her Sunday shoes, which had +soles almost two inches thick; then she took one of the +baskets and one of the pails, and, giving the others to Nelly +and Rob, she set off with them to walk up to Mrs. Clapp's, +where the butter and trout were to be left. Mrs. Clapp was +astonished to see Ulrica with the children. Ulrica tried to +tell her the story of the yokes; but Mrs. Clapp could not +understand Ulrica's English, and Nelly had to finish the +story.</p> + +<p>"It was too bad," said Mrs. Clapp: "but my advice to +you is, to give up the yokes. It would never be quite safe +for you to wear them here: the boys in this town are a +pretty lawless set."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, ma'am!" replied Nelly, "I haven't the least +idea of wearing them again. It would be very silly. But +it is a dreadful pity: they did help so much, and Jan took +so much trouble to make them for us."</p> + +<p>Rob hardly spoke. He was boiling over with rage and +mortification.</p> + +<p>"I say, Nell," he began, as soon as they got outside Mrs. +Clapp's gate: "you might have let me thrash that boy that +spoke last, the one that called out at you. I'll die if I don't +do something to him. And I'm going to wear my yoke: +so there! They may's well get used to it. I'll never give +up this way!"</p> + +<p>"You'll have to, Rob," answered Nelly. "I hate it as +much as you do; but there's no use going against boys,—that +is, such boys as these. The Mayfield boys 'd never do +so. They'd run and stare, perhaps: I expected any boys<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span> +would stare at our yokes; but they'd never hoot and halloo, +and scare you so. We'll have to give the yokes up, Rob."</p> + +<p>"I won't," said Rob. "I'm going to wear mine home, +and ask papa. I know he'll say not to give up."</p> + +<p>"No, he won't, Rob," persisted Nelly. "I shall tell him +what the kind shopkeeper said, and Mrs. Clapp too. You +might know better yourself than to go against them all. +They know better than we do."</p> + +<p>"I don't care," said Rob. "It's none of their business. +I shall wear my yoke if I've a mind to. At any rate, I'll +wear it once more, just to show them."</p> + +<p>"Papa won't let you," said Nelly, quietly, with a tone so +earnest and full of certainty that it made Rob afraid she +might be right.</p> + +<p>When Mrs. March saw the children coming home without +their yokes, she wondered what could have happened. +But almost before she had opened her lips to ask, Rob and +Nelly both began to tell the story of their adventures.</p> + +<p>"Gently! gently! one at a time," cried Mrs. March; but +it was impossible for the children to obey her, they were both +so excited. At last Mrs. March said:—</p> + +<p>"Rob, let Nelly speak first: ladies before gentlemen, +always." And the impatient Rob reluctantly kept silent +while Nelly told the tale.</p> + +<p>Mrs. March's face grew sad as the story went on. It was +a terrible thing to her to think of her little daughter attacked +in the street in that way by rude boys.</p> + +<p>"Now, oughtn't I to have thrashed them, mamma?" +cried Rob, encouraged by the indignation in his mother's +face: "oughtn't I to? But Nell she just pulled me into the +store by main force; and I felt so mean. I felt as if I +looked just like Trotter when he puts his tail between his +legs and runs away from a big dog. I don't care: I'll +thrash that ugly black-eyed boy yet,—the one that spoke<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span> +to Nelly; sha'n't I, mamma? Wouldn't you? I know you +would! And mayn't I wear the yoke again, just to show +them I ain't afraid?"</p> + +<p>"Keep cool, Rob," said Mrs. March; "keep cool!"</p> + +<p>"I can't keep cool, mamma," said Rob, almost crying; +"and you couldn't, either,—you know you couldn't!"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps not, dear; but I'd try," replied his mother. +"Nothing else does any good ever."</p> + +<p>"Well, mayn't I wear the yoke, anyhow?" said Rob. +"I won't go into Rosita ever again unless I can!"</p> + +<p>"Rob," said his mother, earnestly, "if you were going +across a field where there was a bull, you wouldn't wear +a red cloak: would you? It would be very silly, wouldn't +it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Rob, slowly and very reluctantly. He saw +what his mother meant.</p> + +<p>"That's just what I said," interrupted Nelly: "I said it +would be very silly to wear them any more. The boys +would never let us alone if we did."</p> + +<p>"Nelly is right," said Mrs. March: "it would be just +as silly to carry a piece of red cloth and flourish it in the +eyes of the bull, when you know that the sight of red cloth +always makes bulls angry."</p> + +<p>"I don't care if it does make them all set on me," said +Rob: "after I've thrashed them once, they'll let me alone. +Anyhow, I won't go unless I can wear it; I know that +much: I'd feel like a sneak."</p> + +<p>"Of course you'll do as you like about that, my dear +boy," replied Mrs. March: "you never need go up to Rosita, +if you would rather not. You know it was all your own +plan, yours and Nelly's, going up there to sell things. Your +papa and I would never have thought of it."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Rob, half crying, "but there's all the money<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span> +I make: we'd lose all that, if I don't go. Nell couldn't +carry the trout besides all the butter and eggs."</p> + +<p>"I know it," replied his mother; "but that isn't any +reason for your doing what you feel would make you seem +like a sneak. We wouldn't have you feel like that for any +thing."</p> + +<p>Poor Rob was very unhappy. He didn't see any way +out of his dilemma. He wished he hadn't said he would +not go up into Rosita without his yoke.</p> + +<p>"Anyhow, I'll ask papa," he said.</p> + +<p>"Yes," replied his mother, "of course you will talk +it all over with him; and perhaps you'll feel differently +about it after that. Let it all go now, and try to forget it."</p> + +<p>"I'm not going to think any more about it," said Nelly. +"I don't care for those boys: they're too rude for any thing. +I sha'n't ever look at one of them; but you wouldn't catch +me wearing that yoke again, I tell you!"</p> + +<p>"That's because you're a girl," said Rob. "If you were +a boy, you'd feel just exactly as I do. Oh, goodness! don't +I wish you had been a boy, Nell? If you had, we two +together could thrash that whole crowd quicker'n wink!"</p> + +<p>"I shouldn't fight, if I were a boy," said Nelly: "I think +it is beneath a boy to fight. It's just like dogs and cats: +they fight with their teeth and claws; and boys fight with +their fists."</p> + +<p>"Teeth, too," said Rob, grimly.</p> + +<p>"Do they?" cried Nelly, in a tone of horror. "Do they +really? Oh, Rob! did you ever bite a boy?"</p> + +<p>"Not many times," said Rob; "but sometimes you +have to."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm glad I'm not a boy," said Nelly: "that's all +I've got to say. The idea of biting!"</p> + +<p>To Mrs. March's great surprise, she found, when she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span> +talked the affair over with her husband, that he was inclined +to sympathize with Rob's feeling.</p> + +<p>"I don't like to have the boy give it up," said Mr. March. +"You don't know boys as well as I do, Sarah. They'll +taunt him every time he goes through the street. I half wish +Nelly hadn't hindered him from giving one of them a good, +sound thrashing. He could do it."</p> + +<p>"Why, Robert!" exclaimed Mrs. March-"you don't +mean to tell me that you would be willing to have your son +engage in a street fight?"</p> + +<p>"Well, no," laughed Mr. March: "not exactly that; but +there might be circumstances under which I should knock a +man down: if he insulted you, for instance; and there might +come times in a boy's life when I should think it praiseworthy +in him to give another boy a thrashing, and I think +this was one of them."</p> + +<p>"Well, for mercy's sake, don't tell Rob so," said Mrs. +March: "he's hot-headed enough now; and, if he had a +free permission beforehand from you to knock boys down, +I don't know where he'd stop."</p> + +<p>While Mr. and Mrs. March were talking, Billy came in. +He had heard the story of the morning's adventures from +a teamster who had been on the street when it happened; +and Billy had walked all the way in from Pine's ranch, to—as +he said in his clumsy, affectionate way—"see ef I +couldn't talk the youngsters out of their notion about them +yokes."</p> + +<p>"'Tain't no use," he said: "an' ye won't find a man on +the street but'll tell ye the same thing. 'Tain't no use flyin' +in the face o' natur' with boys; and the Rosita boys, I will +say for 'em, is the worst I ever did see. Their fathers is +away from hum all the time, and wimmen hain't much hold +on boys after they get to be long from twelve an' up'ards; +an' the schools in Rosita ain't no great things, either. 'S<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span> +soon's I heard about them yokes, I told Luce the children +couldn't never wear 'em: the boys 'n the street'd plague +their lives out on 'em. I don't know as I blame 'em so much, +either,—though they might be decent enough to let a little +gal alone; but them yokes is awful cur'us-lookin' things. I +never see a man a haulin' water with 'em, without laughin': +they make a man look like a doubled-up kind o' critter, with +more arms 'n he's any right to. You can't deny yourself, +sir, thet they're queer-lookin'. Why, I've seen horses scare +at 'em lots o' times."</p> + +<p>Billy's conversation produced a strong impression on +Mr. March's mind. Almost as reluctantly as Rob himself, +he admitted that it was the part of wisdom to give up the +yokes.</p> + +<p>"It's no giving up for Nelly," said Mrs. March: "she +said herself that nothing would induce her to wear it in +again."</p> + +<p>"And I think Rob would better not go in for a little +while, till the boys have forgotten it," said Mrs. March.</p> + +<p>"And not at all, unless he himself proposes it," added +Mr. March. "I have never wholly liked the plan, much as +we have been helped by the money."</p> + +<p>"I've got an idee in my head," said Billy, "thet I think'll +help 'em more 'n the yokes,—a sight more. I mean to +make 'em a little light wagon. Don't tell 'em any thing +about it, because it'll take me some little time yet. I've got +to stay up to Pine's a week longer; an' I can't work on't +there. But I'll have it ready in two weeks or three to the +farthest."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Billy," said Mr. March: "that is very kind +of you. And a wagon will be much better than the yokes +were: it will save them fatigue almost as much, and not +attract any attention at all. You were very good to think +of it."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Nothin' good about me," said Billy, gruffly: "never +was. But I do think a heap o' your youngsters, specially +Nelly, Mr. March. It seems to me the Lord don't often +send just sech a gal's Nelly is."</p> + +<p>"I think so too, Billy," replied Mr. March. "I have +never seen a child like Nelly. I'm afraid sometimes we +shall spoil her."</p> + +<p>"No danger! no danger!" said Billy: "she ain't the +kind that spoils."</p> + +<p>"Now, you be sure an' not let on about the wagon: +won't you, sir," he added, looking back over his shoulder, +as he walked away fast on his great long legs, which looked +almost like stilts, they were so long.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes! you may trust me, Billy," called Mr. March. +"I won't tell. Good-by!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER XI</h2> + +<h4>HOW TO FIND A SILVER MINE</h4> + + +<p>When Nelly set off on her next trip to Rosita, she felt +a little sad and a little afraid. It had been decided that it +would not be best for Rob to go at present, even if he had +wished to; that it would be better to wait until the boys had +forgotten the fight about the yokes before he was seen in +town again. Rob walked with Nelly as far as Billy's cabin. +Here they waited awhile for Nelly to rest, and to make sure +that she did not get into town till nine o'clock, after the +boys were all safe inside the school-house. In the bottom +of her heart, Nelly was really afraid of seeing them again. +She would not own, even to herself, that she felt fear; but +she could not help wondering all the time what the boys +would do,—if they would say any thing when they saw her +walking along all alone, and without her yoke on her +shoulders. Rob was to spend the day with Lucinda, and be +ready to walk home with her in the afternoon. He too felt +very uncomfortable about being left behind; and there were +two sad little faces which looked wistfully into each other, +as the good-bys were being said.</p> + +<p>"I'll come part way and meet you," said Rob. "It's too +mean!"</p> + +<p>"No, don't!" said Nelly: "the sun will be so hot; and +perhaps I sha'n't come till late. Good-by!"</p> + +<p>Nelly wore on her head a man's hat, with a brim so broad +you could hardly see her face at all. She had had to wear +this ever since the summer weather began: the sun is so hot<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span> +in Colorado that no one can bear it on his head or face in +the summer. On Nelly's arm swung her neat white sun-bonnet, +tied by its strings, and pinned up in paper. When +she reached the last hill before entering the town, she always +took off her hat, and hid it in a hollow place she had found +in the root of a great pine-tree; then she wore her sun-bonnet +into town, and people sometimes said to her:—</p> + +<p>"Why, Nelly, how do you keep your sun-bonnet so clean, +after this long, dusty walk?"</p> + +<p>But Nelly never told her secret. She was afraid some +boy might hear it, and go and find the hiding-place of her +hat.</p> + +<p>There wasn't a boy to be seen when Nelly entered the +town this morning. How relieved her heart was you can +imagine. She just drew a long breath, and said to herself, +"Oh! but I'm thankful. Poor Rob! he might as well +have come as not."</p> + +<p>Then she ran on to Ulrica's house. Ulrica was very busy +ironing some fine white clothes for a young lady who was +visiting in Rosita: Ulrica was the only nice washerwoman +in the town. Nelly stood by the ironing-board, watching +Ulrica flute the pretty lace ruffles. Presently she sighed, +and said:—</p> + +<p>"Mamma has ever so many pretty things like these put +away in a trunk. I used to wear such ruffles on my aprons +and in my neck every day at home. But mamma does all +our washing now, and it is too much trouble to iron them. +So we don't wear them any more."</p> + +<p>"Ah, the dear child!" exclaimed Ulrica. "Bring to +Ulrica: she will them do; it are not trouble; look how quick +can fly the scissors." And in five minutes she had fluted +the whole of one neck-ruffle.</p> + +<p>"Oh! would you really, Ulrica?" said Nelly. "We +could pay you in eggs."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Pay! pay!" said Ulrica, angrily: "who did say to be +paid? No pay! no pay! Ulrica will do for you: not'ing +pay. You are mine child."</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid mamma would not like to have you do them +without pay," said Nelly. "She would not think it was +right to take your time."</p> + +<p>"It is not'ing; it is not time: bring them to Ulrica," was +all Ulrica would say. And Nelly ran on, resolving to ask +her mother, that very night, for some of the old ruffles she +used to wear in the necks of her gowns. After she had +left the butter and eggs for Mrs. Clapp, and had sold the +rest of her eggs at another house near by, she walked slowly +down the hill past the hotel. Just below the hotel was a +little one-story wooden building, which had a sign up over +the door—</p> + + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align="center">"<span class="smcap">Wilhelm Kleesman</span>,</td></tr> +<tr><td align="center">"<span class="smcap">Assayer</span>."</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p>While the Marches were staying at the hotel, Nelly had +often seen old Mr. Kleesman sitting on the steps of his little +house, and smoking a big brown pipe. The bowl of the +pipe had carved on it a man's head, with a long, flowing +beard. Mr. Kleesman himself had a long, flowing beard, +as white as snow, and his face did not look unlike the face +on the pipe; and the first time Rob saw him smoking, he +had run to call Nelly, saying:—</p> + +<p>"Come here, Nell! come quick! There's a man out there +smoking, with his own portrait on his pipe."</p> + +<p>Mr. March had explained to Nelly and Rob that "Assayer" +meant a man who could take a stone and find out +whether there were really any silver and gold in it or not. +This seemed very wonderful to the children; and, as they +looked at the old gentleman sitting on his door-step every +evening, smoking, they thought he looked like a magician,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span> +or like Aladdin who had the wonderful lamp. Rob said he +meant to go and show him some of his stones, and see if +there were not silver in some of them; but his father told +him that it took a great deal of time and trouble to find +out whether a stone had silver in it or not, and that everybody +who had it done had to pay Mr. Kleesman three +dollars for doing it.</p> + +<p>"Whew!" said Rob: "supposing there shouldn't be any +silver at all in their stone, what then?"</p> + +<p>"They have to pay three dollars all the same," said his +father; "and it is much cheaper to find out that way, than +it is to go on digging and digging, and spending time and +money getting stones out of the earth which are not good +for any thing."</p> + +<p>After that, Rob and Nelly used to watch the faces of all +the men they saw coming out of Mr. Kleesman's office, and +try to guess whether their stones had turned out good or +not. If the man looked sad and disappointed, Nelly would +say:—</p> + +<p>"Oh, see that poor man: his hasn't turned out good, I +know."</p> + +<p>And, whenever some one came out with a quick step and +a smiling face, Rob would say:—</p> + +<p>"Look! look! Nell. That man's got silver. He's got +it: I know he has."</p> + +<p>As Nelly walked by Mr. Kleesman's house this morning, +she saw lying on the ground a queer little round cup. It +was about half as big as a small, old-fashioned teacup; it +was made of a rough sort of clay, like that which flower-pots +are made of; the outside was white, and the inside was +all smooth and shining, and of a most beautiful green color.</p> + +<p>"Oh, what a pretty little cup!" thought Nelly, picking +it up, and looking at it closely. "I wonder how it came<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span> +here! Somebody must have lost it; some little girl, I guess. +How sorry she will be!"</p> + +<p>At that minute, old Mr. Kleesman came to his door. +When he saw Nelly looking at the cup, he called out to +her:—</p> + +<p>"Vould you like more as dat? I haf plenty; dey iss +goot for little girls."</p> + +<p>Mr. Kleesman was a German, and spoke very broken +English.</p> + +<p>Nelly looked up at him, and said:—</p> + +<p>"Thank you, sir. I should like some more very much. +They are cunning little cups. I thought somebody had +lost this one."</p> + +<p>Mr. Kleesman laughed, and <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'stroke'">stroked</ins> his long, white beard +with his hand.</p> + +<p>"Ach! I throw dem away each day. Little girls come +often to mine room for dem: I have vary goot customers +in little girls. Come in! come in! you shall have so many +that you want." And he led Nelly into a small back room, +where, in a corner on the floor, was a great pile of these +little cups: some broken ones; some, like the one Nelly had, +green on the inside; some brown, some yellow, some dark-red. +Nelly was delighted. She knelt down on the floor, +and began to look over the pile.</p> + +<p>"May I really have all I want?" she said. "Are they +not of any use?"</p> + +<p>"Only to little girls," said Mr. Kleesman: "sometimes +to a boy; but not often a boy; mostly it is for little girls; +they are my goot customers."</p> + +<p>Nelly picked out six. She did not like to take more, +though she would have liked the whole pile. Mr. Kleesman +stood watching her.</p> + +<p>"Vy not you take more as dem?" he said.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I am afraid there will not be enough for the other +little girls," replied Nelly.</p> + +<p>Mr. Kleesman laughed and shook till his white beard went +up and down.</p> + +<p>"Look you here," he said, and pointed behind the door. +There was another pile, twice as big as the one which Nelly +was examining.</p> + +<p>"Oh, my!" said Nelly: "what a lot! I'll take a few +more, I guess."</p> + +<p>"I gif you myself. You haf too modest," said the old +gentleman. And he picked up two big handfuls of the cups, +and threw them into Nelly's basket. Then he sprang to a +big brick stove which there was in the room, and opened its +iron door and looked in. A fiery heat filled the room, as he +opened the door.</p> + +<p>"Oh!" said Nelly, "I wondered what made it so hot +in here. Why do you have a fire in such hot weather?" she +said.</p> + +<p>"To make mine assays," replied Mr. Kleesman. "I haf +made three to-day already. I shall make three more. I haf +big fire all day. You can look in if you like. Do you like?"</p> + +<p>"Very much," said Nelly. Mr. Kleesman lifted her up +on a block of wood, so that her face came directly opposite +the door into the furnace. Then he gave her a piece of +wood shaped like a shovel, with two round holes in it. He +told her to hold this up in front of her face, so to keep off the +heat, and then to look through the two holes into the furnace. +Nelly did so; and, as soon as she looked into the fiery +furnace, she gave a little scream. The fire was one mass of +glowing red coals. In the centre, on a stand, stood three little +cups, the same size as those she had. In these cups was +something which was red hot, and bubbling in little bubbles.</p> + +<p>"Oh! what is it in the cups?" she cried.</p> + +<p>"Silver ore," replied Mr. Kleesman. "It have to be burnt<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span> +and burnt wiz fire before I can tell if it are good. It are +done now. I take out." Then with a long pair of tongs he +took out one cup after another, and set them all on an iron +block on the table.</p> + +<p>Nelly stood on tiptoe, and looked into the little cups. +The fiery red color died away very quickly; and there, in the +bottom of each cup, was a tiny, little round speck of silver. +One was as big as the head of a common-sized pin, and one +was a little smaller, and the third one was so small you could +but just see it. In fact, if it had been loose on the floor or on +a table, you would not have noticed it at all.</p> + +<p>"That is not good for any t'ing," said Mr. Kleesman, +pointing to this small one. "I tell the man ven he bring his +ore, I think it are no good."</p> + +<p>Nelly did not speak; but her face was so full of eager curiosity +that Mr. Kleesman said:—</p> + +<p>"Now I show you how I tell how much silver there will +be in each ton of the ore."</p> + +<p>Then he went into the front room, and Nelly followed +him. On a table in the window stood a long box; its sides +and top were made of glass, set in narrow wooden frames. +In this box was a beautiful little pair of brass scales; and in +one of these scales was a tiny silver button. One side of this +glass box drew up like a sliding door. Mr. Kleesman set his +little cups down very carefully on the table; then he sat +down in a chair opposite the glass box, and told Nelly to +come and stand close to him.</p> + +<p>"Now I weigh," he said, and pulled up the sliding side of +the glass box; then with a very fine pair of pincers he took +up one of the little buttons which had come out of the +furnace, and laid it in the empty scale.</p> + +<p>"See which are the heaviest," he said to Nelly.</p> + +<p>Nelly strained her eyes; but she could hardly see that one +scale was heavier than the other.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span></p> + +<p>"They are alike," said Nelly.</p> + +<p>Mr. Kleesman laughed.</p> + +<p>"Ah, no! but they are not," he said. "Look! here it is +written." And he pointed to a little needle which was +fastened on the upright bar from which the scales swung. +This needle was balanced so that the very smallest possible +weight would make it move one way or the other, and point +to figures printed on a scale behind it,—just as you have +seen figures on the scales the cooks weigh sugar and butter +on in the kitchen. Mr. Kleesman took off the glasses he was +wearing, and put on another pair. "These are my best eyes," +he said, "to read the small figures with." Then he peered +a few minutes at the needle; then he shut down the glass +slide, and watched it through the glass.</p> + +<p>"Even my breath would make that it did not swing +true," he said.</p> + +<p>Presently he pushed up the slide, and took out the little +button with his pincers, and put it up on a bar above the +scales, where there were as many as a dozen more of the +little buttons, all arranged in a row,—some larger, some +smaller. Then he wrote a few words in a little book.</p> + +<p>"There," he said, "I haf good news for two men, and +bad news for one man,—the man who haf the little button; +his mine are not goot. The other two can make twelve dollars +of silver from one ton of ore."</p> + +<p>By this time Nelly looked so hopelessly puzzled, that the +old gentleman laughed, and said:—</p> + +<p>"You haf not understand: is that so?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, sir!" said Nelly: "I have not understood at +all. Could I understand?"</p> + +<p>"Ach, yes! it is so simple, so simple; the smallest child +shall understand, if I show him. Stay you here till afternoon, +and I show you from beginning," said Mr. Kleesman. +"I make two more assays this afternoon."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Thank you, sir," replied Nelly: "I should like to stay +very much; but my brother is waiting for me. I must hurry +home. Some other day, if you will let me, I will come. May +I bring my brother?"</p> + +<p>"Is he goot like you; not to touch, and not ask the questions +that are foolish?" said Mr. Kleesman.</p> + +<p>Nelly colored. She was afraid Rob would not be able to +keep as quiet as she had, or to refrain from touching things. +Yet she wanted to have him see the curious sight.</p> + +<p>"I think he will not touch any thing if you ask him not +to; and I will try to keep him very still," said Nelly.</p> + +<p>"Vary goot: he may come. Little one, it will be to me +pleasure to show you all. You are like German child, not +like American child," replied Mr. Kleesman, whose heart +warmed towards Nelly more and more the longer he watched +her quiet ways and her thoughtful face.</p> + +<p>Nelly was so full of thoughts about the fiery furnace, the +wonderful little silver buttons in the glowing red cups, and +the kind old man with the white beard, that, for the first time +all summer, she forgot Ulrica, and set out for the valley on +a shorter road, which did not pass Ulrica's house. Poor +Ulrica stood in her door, watching for a long time, till she +grew anxious; at last, she pinned her white handkerchief +over her head, and walked up into the town to see what had +become of the child.</p> + +<p>"If it is that she haf again to be frighted by the bad +boys," said Ulrica, doubling up her fist, as she strode along, +"I will make Jan that he go to the townmaster, and haf +punish them all."</p> + +<p>No Nelly was to be found. Each person that Ulrica +asked had seen Nelly early in the forenoon; but no one had +seen her since. At last, a man who was driving a long string +of pack-mules overheard Ulrica's questions, and stopped +his mules to say:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span>—</p> + +<p>"Is it that little brown-eyed gal o' March's, down in the +valley, you're asking after?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, it are she!" exclaimed Ulrica: "haf you +saw?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the man: "I met her two hours ago well +down the valley road, most to Cobb's cabin,—she an' her +brother."</p> + +<p>"Ach!" said Ulrica, and turned away without another +word. Nor did she speak to a soul all the way home. She +was hurt and offended. "It are first time," she said; "but +it will not be last time. She haf found more as Ulrica," and +poor Ulrica brooded over the thing till she made herself very +unhappy. She would have been quite comforted if she had +known that Nelly was feeling almost as badly about it as +she did. Nelly did not remember, till she was half way to +Lucinda's cabin, that she had not stopped to say good-by to +Ulrica. As soon as she thought of it, she stood still, in the +middle of the road, and said, "Oh, dear!" out loud. At +first, she had half a mind to go back; but she knew that +would be silly. So she trudged along, trying to hope that +Ulrica would not have been watching for her. As soon as +she saw Rob, she exclaimed:—</p> + +<p>"Oh, Rob! I forgot to come by way of Ulrica's, as we +always do. I'm afraid she is watching for me. If it hadn't +been so far, I'd have gone back."</p> + +<p>Rob looked astonished.</p> + +<p>"Why, what in the world made you forget it?" he asked. +"You don't like goat's milk as well as I do, or you wouldn't +ever forget to go to Ulrica's!"</p> + +<p>"Well, you'd have forgotten it yourself, this time," said +Nelly, "I know, if you'd seen what I have."</p> + +<p>Then she showed him the cups, and told him all about the +good time she had had in Mr. Kleesman's rooms.</p> + +<p>"What! that jolly old fellow with the pipe that looked<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span> +like Santa Claus?" cried Rob. "Oh, Nell! don't you +believe papa'll let me go with you, next time?"</p> + +<p>"I guess so," said Nelly. "I didn't see a boy to-day, not +one, when I first went in; and at noon they didn't take any +notice of me. Mrs. Clapp says they forget every thing very +soon."</p> + +<p>"Well, they don't!" said Rob, firing up at this statement +about boys; "and Mrs. Clapp needn't think so. I guess I +know. You'll see they'll pitch into us again yet,—at least, +into me. I dare say they won't bother you. But I'm going +in, anyhow. It's too mean."</p> + +<p>"I'll ask papa to let you," said Nelly. "We might go in +just in time to get in about nine, and we could stay at Mr. +Kleesman's at twelve o'clock; and then we needn't see them +at all. Say, Rob, do you suppose Ulrica'll care much because +I didn't stop?"</p> + +<p>"Why, no!" said Rob: "why should she? You saw +her in the morning?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Nelly: "but we always did stop, you know; +and she was always standing in the door watching for us, +don't you know? I'm awful sorry!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, pshaw!" said Rob: "you're always thinking of +things, Nell."</p> + +<p>It seemed very long to Rob and Nelly before the day came +round to go up to Rosita again. It was only two days; but +it seemed as much as a week to them both. That is one of +the queerest things in this life, I think, that time can seem +both so much longer and so much shorter than it really is. +Haven't you known Saturday afternoons that didn't seem +one bit more than a minute long? I have; and I remember +just as well all about them, as if it were only this very last +Saturday.</p> + +<p>At last the day came. It was Friday, and a lovely, bright +day. Mr. March had said that Rob might go too; and both<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span> +the children were awake long before light, in their impatience +to be off.</p> + +<p>"It would do just as well if we got up there early enough +to be all through with selling things, and get in to Mr. +Kleesman's before nine o'clock: wouldn't it, Nell?" said +Rob.</p> + +<p>"Why, yes," said Nelly, "of course it would. That's +splendid. Let's get right up now. It's beginning to be +light."</p> + +<p>When Mrs. March heard their feet pattering about, she +called from her room:—</p> + +<p>"What in the world are you about, children?"</p> + +<p>"Getting up, mamma," answered Nelly. "We're going +up to town real early, so as to get out of the way of the +boys, and have a good long time at Mr. Kleesman's. It +takes about three hours to do what he does to the ore. Can't +we go?"</p> + +<p>"I have no objection," replied Mrs. March; "but you +must have some breakfast. I will get right up."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no! no! please, dear mamma, don't!" cried Nelly. +"It's only four o'clock by the clock downstairs: I've just +been down. We can get plenty to eat without you. There +is beautiful cream in the pantry; and a whole lot of cold +potatoes."</p> + +<p>Mrs. March laughed, and said:—</p> + +<p>"I don't think cold potatoes are a very good breakfast."</p> + +<p>"Why, mamma! mamma!" cried Rob, "cold potatoes are +splendid. I like them best cold, with lots of salt. Please +don't you get up."</p> + +<p>Mrs. March was very sleepy; so she turned over in bed, +and went sound to sleep. When Nelly was dressed, she +peeped cautiously in at the door of her mother's room, which +stood open.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span></p> + +<p>"They're both sound asleep, Rob," she whispered: "let's +take off our shoes."</p> + +<p>"What fun!" whispered Rob; and the two children stole +downstairs in their stocking-feet, like two little thieves; then +they drank a good tumbler of cream, and ate the cold potatoes +with salt, and some nice brown bread, and butter.</p> + +<p>"I don't think a king need have a better breakfast than +this," said Rob.</p> + +<p>"I do!" said Nelly. "If I were a queen, I'd have a better +one."</p> + +<p>"What would you have, Nelly?" said Rob, earnestly.</p> + +<p>"Cold roast turkey," said Nelly, "and bread and honey."</p> + +<p>"Pooh!" said Rob, "I hate honey. It has such a twang +to it. I'd have melted maple sugar always on my bread, if +I were a king. I'd have maple sugar packed up in little +houses, as they pack the ice in ice-houses, and just cut out +great square junks, to melt up."</p> + +<p>As the children went out of the house, the sky in the east +was just beginning to be bright red. The sun was not up; +but it was very light, and Pike's Peak shone against the red +sky like a great mountain of alabaster. The peaks of the +mountains in the west were rosy red; all their tops were +covered with snow, and in the red light they looked like +jewels.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Rob, look! look!" cried Nelly: "isn't it perfectly +lovely! Let's always come early like this."</p> + +<p>Rob looked at the mountains and the sky.</p> + +<p>"Yes, 'twould be pretty if 'twould stay so," he said; "but +'twon't last a minute."</p> + +<p>Even while he spoke, the red color faded; the mountains +began to look blue; and, in a minute more, up came the sun +over the Rosita hills, and flooded the whole valley with a +yellow light. All along the sides of the road were beautiful +flowers,—blue, pink, white, yellow, and red. It had rained<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span> +in the night; and every flower was shining with rain-drops, +and as bright as if it had just been painted.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Rob," said Nelly, "I'll tell you what we'll do: we'll +pick a perfectly splendid bouquet for Ulrica. I know she'd +like it. That'll show her I'm sorry I didn't stop. You pick +white and blue, and I'll pick red and yellow; and then we'll +put them all together. Have you got any string?"</p> + +<p>Rob had a big piece. So they picked a big bunch of +flowers; and then they sat down on a log, and Nelly arranged +them in a beautiful pyramid: the white ones in the +middle, then the blue, then the yellow, and then the red. +Last, she put a border of the fine, green young shoots of the +fir around it, and it was really superb. Then with some +stout twine she swung it on her neck, so that it hung down +on her shoulders behind.</p> + +<p>"There!" she said; "I don't feel the weight of it a bit, +and that'll keep it out of the sun too."</p> + +<p>When they reached Ulrica's house, not a window was +open. Jan and Ulrica were still asleep. There had been a +dance in Rosita the night before; and they had danced nearly +all night, and were not likely to wake up very early after +such a night as that.</p> + +<p>"Nell, hang it on the door," said Rob, "so they'll find it +when they first open the door."</p> + +<p>"Somebody might steal it," replied Nelly.</p> + +<p>"Pshaw!" said Rob: "who'd want it?"</p> + +<p>"I'm sure anybody would," retorted Nelly: "it's perfectly +splendid."</p> + +<p>"You just tie it on," said Rob: "nobody'll touch it."</p> + +<p>Nelly had run around to the back side of the house. A +small window, which opened from a sort of closet where +Ulrica kept milk, was open a little. Nelly squeezed the +bouquet in, and ran back to Rob.</p> + +<p>"I've thrown it in at the closet window," she said.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What do you suppose she'll think when she sees it? She'll +think fairies brought it. Ulrica believes in fairies: she told +me so."</p> + +<p>"She don't, though: does she?" exclaimed Rob. "What +a goose!"</p> + +<p>"I think it would be nice to believe in them," replied +Nelly. "I do, just a little, wee wee bit. I don't mean really +believe, you know; but just a little bit. I guess there used to +be fairies, ever so many, many years ago; oh! longer ago +than our great, great, great grandmother: don't you?"</p> + +<p>"No!" said Rob, very contemptuously: "there never +could have been any such thing, not since the world began. +It's just made-up stories for girls."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Rob!" cried Nelly: "you used to like to hear the +story about the singing tree, the talking bird, and the laughing +water; don't you know?"</p> + +<p>"That ain't a fairy story," said Rob: "it's a—a—I +forget what mamma called it. Don't you recollect how she +explained it all to us?—how it was all true?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! you mean a parable," said Nelly. "That's what +mamma said,—that it meant that we should all find singing +trees and talking birds and laughing water, if we loved them +enough. But it's a fairy story too, besides all that."</p> + +<p>The children had a droll time going to people's houses so +early. Nobody was up. At Mrs. Clapp's, they had to pound +and pound before they could wake anybody. Then Mr. +Clapp put his head out of a window to see what had happened.</p> + +<p>"Goodness!" he said: "here are the children with the +butter. How did they ever get up here so early?" And he +ran down to open the door.</p> + +<p>"Ask them to stay to breakfast," said Mrs. Clapp. "The +poor little things must be faint."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span></p> + +<p>Nelly and Rob thanked Mr. Clapp, but said they could +not stop.</p> + +<p>"We had a splendid breakfast at home," said Rob, +triumphantly.</p> + +<p>When Mr. Clapp went back to his room, he said to his +wife:—</p> + +<p>"Poor little things, indeed! You wouldn't have called +them so, if you'd seen them. Their eyes shone like +diamonds, and their cheeks were just like roses; and they +looked as full of frolic as kittens. I declare I do envy +March those children. That Nelly's going to make a most +beautiful woman."</p> + +<p>Rob and Nelly reached Mr. Kleesman's door at eight +o'clock. His curtains were down; no sign of life about the +place.</p> + +<p>"I say, Nell, aren't the Rosita people lazy!" exclaimed +Rob. "What'll we do now?"</p> + +<p>"Sit down here on the step and wait," said Nelly. "He +always comes out here, the first thing, and looks off down +into the valley, and at the mountains. I used to see him +when we were at the hotel."</p> + +<p>How long it seemed before they heard steps inside the +house; and then how much longer still before the door +opened! When Mr. Kleesman saw the little figures sitting +on his door-step he started.</p> + +<p>"Ach, my soul!" he exclaimed: "it is the little one. +Good morning! good morning!" And he <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'stopped'">stooped</ins> over and +kissed Nelly's forehead.</p> + +<p>"This is my brother, sir," said Nelly. "We are all done +our work, and have come to see you make the assay. You +said you would show us."</p> + +<p>"Ach! ach!" cried the old gentleman; and he looked very +sorry. "It is one tousand of pities: it cannot be that I +show you to-day. My chimney he did do smoke; and a man<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span> +will come now this hour to take out my furnace the flue. It +must be made new. Not for some day I make the assay +more."</p> + +<p>Nelly and Rob looked straight in his face without speaking: +they were too disappointed to say one word. Kind old +Mr. Kleesman was very sorry for them.</p> + +<p>"You shall again come: I will show the very first day," +he said.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, sir," said Nelly. "We always come into +town Tuesdays and Fridays. We can come to your house +any time." And she took hold of Rob's hand, and began to +go down the steps.</p> + +<p>"Vait! vait!" exclaimed Mr. Kleesman: "come in, and I +show you some picture. You will not have seen picture of +Malacca. I did live many years in Malacca."</p> + +<p>Rob bounded at these words. His whole face lighted up.</p> + +<p>"Oh, thank you! thank you!" he said: "that is what I +like best in all the world."</p> + +<p>"Vat is dat you like best in all the world: Malacca?" said +the old gentleman. "And vy like you Malacca?"</p> + +<p>Rob looked confused. Nelly came to his rescue.</p> + +<p>"He doesn't mean that he likes Malacca, sir," she said: +"only that he likes to hear about strange countries,—any +countries."</p> + +<p>"Ach!" said Mr. Kleesman: "I see. He vill be one explorer."</p> + +<p>"Indeed I will that!" said Rob. "Just as soon as I'm a +man I'm going all round this world."</p> + +<p>Mr. Kleesman had lived ten years in Malacca. He had +been in charge of tin mines there. He was an artist too, this +queer old gentleman; and he had painted a great many small +pictures of things and places he saw there. These he kept +in an old leather portfolio, on a shelf above his bed. This +portfolio he now took down, and spread the pictures out on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span> +the bed, for Rob and Nelly to look at. There was a picture +of the house he lived in while he was in Malacca. It was +built of bamboo sticks and rattan, and looked like a little toy +house. There was a picture of one of the queer boats a great +many of the Malay people live in. Think of that: live in a +boat all the time, and never have a house on land at all. +These boats are about twenty feet long, and quite narrow; +at one end they have a fireplace, and at the other end their +bedroom. The bedroom is nothing but a mat spread over +four poles; and under this mat the whole family sits by day +and sleeps by night. They move about from river to river, +and live on fish, and on wild roots which they dig on the +banks of the rivers.</p> + +<p>"My servant lif in that boat," said Mr. Kleesman. "He +take wife, and go lif in a boat. His name Jinghi. I write +it for you in Malay."</p> + +<p>Then Mr. Kleesman wrote on a piece of paper some queer +characters, which Nelly said looked just like the letters on +tea-chests.</p> + +<p>"Could you write my name in Malay?" asked Nelly, +timidly.</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes," said Mr. Kleesman: "I write." And he +handed Nelly a card with the following marks on it:—</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 348px;"> +<img src="images/illusp244.jpg" width="348" height="167" alt="Malay script" title="Malay script" /> +</div> + +<p>"Dear me!" said Nelly: "is that all it takes to write +'Nelly'? It is a quicker language than ours: isn't it? May +I have the paper?"</p> + +<p>"I write you better," said Mr. Kleesman; and wrote it +over again on a card, which Nelly wrapped up carefully and +put in her pocket.</p> + +<p>Rob wanted to ask for his name too, but he did not dare<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span> +to; and Mr. Kleesman did not think of it. He meant to be +kind to Rob; but he was thinking most of the time about +Nelly. Nelly seemed to him, as he said, like a little girl of +Germany, and not of America; and he loved to look at her, +and to hear her talk.</p> + +<p>There were dozens of pictures in the portfolio; more than +I could tell you about: pictures of streets in Malacca; pictures +of the people in their gay-colored clothes,—they looked +like negroes, only not quite so black; pictures of palm-trees, +with cocoanuts growing on them; pictures of pineapples +growing; and pictures of snakes, especially one of a deadly +snake,—the cobra.</p> + +<p>"Him I kill in my own house, close by my veranda," said +Mr. Kleesman: "and I draw him with all his colors, while +he lie dead, before he are cold."</p> + +<p>While they were talking, there came in a man in rough +clothes, a miner, carrying a small bag of stout canvas. He +opened it, and took out a handful of stones, of a very dark +color, almost black.</p> + +<p>"Would you dig where you found that?" he said, holding +out the stones to Mr. Kleesman.</p> + +<p>Mr. Kleesman took them in his hand, looked at them attentively, +and said:—</p> + +<p>"Yes, that is goot mineral. There might be mine vere +dat mineral is on top. We haf proverb in our country, 'No +mine is not wort not'ing unless he haf black hat on his +head.'"</p> + +<p>The man put his stones back in his bag, nodded his head, +and went out, saying:—</p> + +<p>"I reckon we'll buy that claim. I'll let you know."</p> + +<p>A small piece of the stone had fallen on the floor. Nelly +eyed it like a hawk. She was trying to remember where she +had seen stones just like it. She knew she had seen them +somewhere; she recollected thinking at the time how very<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span> +black the stones were. She picked up the little piece of stone, +and asked Mr. Kleesman if it were good for any thing.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, for not'ing," he said, and turned back to the +pictures. Nelly's interest in the pictures had grown suddenly +very small. The little black stone had set her to thinking. +She put it in her pocket, and told Rob it was time to +go home.</p> + +<p>"Ven vill you again come?" said Mr. Kleesman.</p> + +<p>"Next Tuesday," replied Nelly. "That is our day."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps it vill be done den; perhaps not: cannot tell. +But ven it is done, I show you all how I make mine assay," +said Mr. Kleesman, and kissed Nelly again as he bade them +good-by.</p> + +<p>"Now we'll go down to Ulrica's," said Nelly, "and eat +our lunch on her porch. I wonder what she thought when +she saw the flowers."</p> + +<p>When the children reached Ulrica's house, they found the +door open, and Ulrica sitting on the door-step, picking the +feathers off a white hen. As soon as she saw Nelly, she +jumped up and dropped the hen. The feathers flew in all +directions; but Ulrica did not mind: she darted up to Nelly, +and threw her arms round her neck, and spoke so fast,—half +in Swedish, half in broken English,—that Nelly could +not understand what she said. However, she knew she was +thanking her for the flowers; and so she replied:—</p> + +<p>"I am glad you like them, Ulrica. But are you not +ashamed to be asleep at six o'clock? And Rob and I had +walked all the way from the valley, and you were asleep! +and Jan too!"</p> + +<p>Then Ulrica told them about the dance; and how they had +been up so late it had made them sleepy. And then she +whisked up the white hen again, and began tearing off its +feathers in the greatest hurry.</p> + +<p>"Vat is it you came so soon?" she said. "You must to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span> +dinner stay. I kill dis for you,—for your dinner, I not +tink you come till sun high."</p> + +<p>"Oh, stay! stay, Nell, let's stay!" cried Rob, who had +tasted Ulrica's stewed chicken once before, and had never +forgotten how good it was. Ulrica always boiled her +chickens with a few cranberries, as they cook it in Sweden. +You would not think it would be good: but it is delicious.</p> + +<p>Nelly thought a minute.</p> + +<p>"It will not make us any later than if we stayed at Mr. +Kleesman's," she said. "Yes, I think we will stay."</p> + +<p>Ulrica clapped her hands when Nelly said this.</p> + +<p>"Goot! goot!" she said, "mine child." And she looked +at Nelly with tears in her eyes, as she so often did. Then +she gave Rob the book of Swedish pictures to look at, and +he threw himself at full length on the floor with it. You +could have eaten off the boards of Ulrica's house, she kept +them so clean. Nelly sat in the wooden rocking-chair, and +watched Ulrica getting the dinner. Pretty soon Nellie began +to nod; and in a few minutes she was fast asleep. +Ulrica took her up in her great, strong arms, as easily as if +she were a baby, and carried her across the room and laid her +on the bed.</p> + +<p>"Hullo!" said Rob, when he looked up from his book +and saw Ulrica carrying Nelly: "what's the matter with +Nell?"</p> + +<p>"Sh! sh! make not noise," whispered Ulrica. "She haf +sleep. She haf tire in the sun."</p> + +<p>"We got up before four o'clock," whispered Rob: "but +I ain't sleepy a mite."</p> + +<p>"Dat iss, that you are man and not girl," said Ulrica; +which pleased Rob immensely.</p> + +<p>After Ulrica had laid Nelly on the bed, she went to the +big chest in the corner, and took out a fine red woollen +blanket, with bright blue figures in the corners. This she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span> +spread over Nelly; and then she stood looking at her for +some minutes. Nelly's face, when she was asleep, looked +much older than it really was. Her eyes were large, and her +mouth was large, and her cheek-bones were high.</p> + +<p>"Mine child! mine child!" muttered Ulrica, under her +breath, and brushed the tears out of her eyes with the back +of her hard hand, as she went back to her work.</p> + +<p>When Nelly waked up, dinner was all ready; and Jan and +Ulrica were discussing whether they should wake Nelly or +not.</p> + +<p>"Oh!" exclaimed Nelly, sitting up and rubbing her eyes, +"how came I here? Where's Rob?"</p> + +<p>Ulrica sprang to her, and took her little hand in hers.</p> + +<p>"Mine child, you haf sleep in chair. I bring you in mine +arms here. Haf you rest? Come eat." And she picked +her up again, and ran laughing back and forth two or three +times across the room with her in her arms.</p> + +<p>"She is like baby in arms: she is so light," said Ulrica to +Jan in Swedish. "She has too much work."</p> + +<p>"No, no," said Jan: "she is all right. She is at the age +to be thin." But Ulrica shook her head.</p> + +<p>How good that dinner was, and how nice it looked! There +was no cloth on the table; but the wood was white as pine +wood could be. On one end stood Nelly's pyramid of bright +flowers; and, on the other, the great platter of stewed +chicken, with the red cranberries floating in the white gravy. +Then there was a big plate of rye cakes, baked in the ashes; +and two pitchers of milk, one of cow's and one of goat's. +Jan always bowed his head down and said a short blessing +in Swedish, before they began to eat; and Nelly and Rob +liked this, because, as Nelly said:—</p> + +<p>"It makes you feel as if Jan were just as good as papa: +doesn't it, Rob?"</p> + +<p>And Rob said, "Yes;" but in a minute afterward he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span> +added: "Don't you suppose any bad men say grace, +Nell?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Nelly; "not real grace, real earnest, like papa +and Jan. Perhaps they make believe say grace."</p> + +<p>After dinner, Nelly showed Ulrica and Jan her little card +on which Mr. Kleesman had written her name in Malay. +As she took it out of her pocket, the black stone fell out and +rolled away on the floor. She sprang to catch it.</p> + +<p>"What's that?" said Rob.</p> + +<p>"A piece of black stone," replied Nell.</p> + +<p>"What's it for?" said Rob.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I just wanted it," said Nelly.</p> + +<p>"But what did you want it for, Nell?" persisted Rob.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER XII</h2> + +<h4>NELLY'S SILVER MINE</h4> + + +<p>Nelly would not give any reason, but put the stone +carefully back in her pocket. She was determined not to +tell Rob any thing about it, unless she found the stones; +and the more she racked her brains the more confused she +became as to where it was she had seen them. All the way +home she was in a brown study, trying to think where it +could have been. She was in such a brown study that she +was walking straight past Lucinda's door without seeing her, +when Lucinda called her name aloud.</p> + +<p>"Why, Nelly," she said, "ain't you going to stop long +enough to speak?"</p> + +<p>"She hasn't spoken a word all the way," said Rob, discontentedly. +"I can't get any thing out of her. She's real +cross."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Rob! Rob! how can you!" cried Nelly: "I wasn't +cross a bit."</p> + +<p>"Then you're sulky," retorted Rob; "and mamma says +that's worse."</p> + +<p>"Tut, tut," said Lucinda: "Nelly doesn't look either +sulky or cross. I guess you're mistaken, Rob."</p> + +<p>Nelly felt a little conscience-stricken. She knew she had +been thinking hard, all the last hour, about the black stones.</p> + +<p>"Never mind, Rob!" she said: "I'll talk now." And she +began to tell Lucinda all about the pictures they had seen at +Mr. Kleesman's.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes!" said Lucinda: "I know all about those. My<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span> +little sister's got one of them: Mr. Kleesman gave it to her. +He's real fond of little girls. It's a picture he made of the +black nurse he had for his little boy. She's got the baby in +her arms."</p> + +<p>"Why, has Mr. Kleesman got any children?" exclaimed +Nelly, very much surprised.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes!" said Lucinda: "he's got a wife and two children +over in Germany. That's what makes him so blue +sometimes. His wife hates America, and won't come here."</p> + +<p>"Then I should think he'd stay there," said Nelly.</p> + +<p>"So should I," said Lucinda; "but they say it's awful +hard to make a living over there; and he's a layin' up money +here. He'll go back one of these days."</p> + +<p>"Oh! I wish he'd take me with him," said Rob.</p> + +<p>"Rob March! would you go away and leave papa and +mamma and me?" said Nelly.</p> + +<p>Rob hung his head. The longing of a born traveller was +in his eyes.</p> + +<p>"I should come back, Nell," he said. "I shouldn't stay: +only just to see the places."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Nelly, slowly, "I wouldn't go away from +all of you, not to see the most beautiful things in all the +world; not even to see the city of Constantinople."</p> + +<p>Rob did not answer. He was afraid that there must +be something wrong about him, to be so willing to do +what seemed to Nelly such a dreadful thing. To see Constantinople, +and hear the muezzins call out the hours for +prayers from the mosques, Rob would have set off that +very minute and walked all the way.</p> + +<p>After Nelly went to bed that night, she lay awake a long +time, still thinking about the black stones. She had put the +little piece of stone on the bureau, and while she was undressing +she hardly took her eyes off it. She recollected just +how the place looked where she saw them. It was in a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span> +ravine: there were piles of stones in the bottom of the +ravine, and a good many scattered all along the sides. There +were pine trees and bushes too: it was quite a shady place.</p> + +<p>"I should know it in a minute, if I saw it again," said +Nelly to herself; "but where, oh! where was it!"</p> + +<p>At last, all in one second, it flashed into her mind. It +was one day when she had started for Rosita later than +usual, and had thought she would take a short cut across +the hills; but she had found it any thing but a short cut. +As soon as she had climbed one hill she found another rising +directly before her, and, between the two, a great ravine, +down to the very bottom of which she must go before she +could climb the other hill. She had crossed several of these +ravines,—she did not remember how many,—and had +come out at last on the top of the highest of all the hills +above the town: a hill so steep that she had always wondered +how the cows could keep on their feet when they were +grazing high up on it. It was in one of these ravines that +she had seen the black stones; but in which one she could +not be sure. Neither could she recollect exactly where she +had left the road and struck out to cross the hills.</p> + +<p>"I might walk and walk all day," thought Nelly, "and +never find it. How shall I ever manage?"</p> + +<p>Fortune favored Nelly. The very next day, Billy came +to the house to ask if Mrs. March could spare Nelly to go +and stay two days with Lucinda, while he was away. He +had an excellent chance to make some money by taking a +party of gentlemen across the valley and up into one of +the passes in the range, where they were going to fish. He +would be at home the second night: Nelly need stay only +over one night. Lucinda was not well, and Billy did not +like to leave her alone.</p> + +<p>Mrs. March said, "Certainly: Nelly could go."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span></p> + +<p>As soon as she told Nelly of the plan, Nelly's heart +seemed to leap in her bosom with the thought:—</p> + +<p>"Now that's just the chance for me to look for the +stones."</p> + +<p>She set off very early, and reached Lucinda's house before +eight o'clock. After she had unpacked her bag, and +arranged all her things in the little room where she was to +sleep, she asked Lucinda if there were any thing she could +do to help her.</p> + +<p>Lucinda was quilting a big bedquilt, which was stretched +out on chairs and long wooden bars, and took up so much +of the room in the kitchen it was hard to get about.</p> + +<p>"Mercy, no, child!" said Lucinda. "I hain't got nothin' +to do but this quilt, an' I expect you ain't much of a hand +at quiltin'. 'Twan't my notion to have ye come,—not but +what I'm always glad to see ye; ye know that,—but I +wan't afraid to be alone. But Billy he's took it into his +head 'tain't safe for me to be alone here nights. Now if +there's any thing ye want to do, ye jest go 'n' do it."</p> + +<p>"Would it make any difference to you if I were gone all +day, so I am here to sleep?" said Nelly.</p> + +<p>"Why, no," replied Lucinda; "not a bit. Did ye want +to go into the town?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Nelly; "but I wanted to find a place I saw +once, on the way there. It was a real deep place, almost +sunk down in the ground, full of pines and bushes: a real +pretty place. But it wasn't on the road. I don't know 's I +can find it; but I'd like to."</p> + +<p>"All right," said Lucinda: "you go off. I'll give ye +some lunch in case ye get hungry. Ye won't be lonesome, +will ye, without Rob?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no!" said Nelly: "I like to be all alone out doors."</p> + +<p>Then she bade Lucinda good-by, and set off. For a half +mile or so, she walked in the road toward Rosita. She<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span> +recollected that she had passed Lucinda's before she turned +off from the road. But the more she tried to remember the +precise spot where she had turned off the more confused she +became. At last she sprang out of the road, on the left +hand side, and began running as fast as she could.</p> + +<p>"I may as well strike off in one place as another," she +thought, "since I can't remember. It cannot be very far +from here."</p> + +<p>She climbed one steep hill, and ran down into the ravine +beyond it; then another hill, and another ravine,—no +black stones. The sun was by this time high, and very hot. +Nelly had done some severe climbing.</p> + +<p>"On the top of the next hill I'll eat my lunch," she +thought.</p> + +<p>The next hill was the steepest one yet. How Nelly did +puff and pant before she reached the top; and when she +reached it, there was not a single tree big enough to shade +her!</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear!" said Nelly; and looked up and down the +ravine, to see if she could spy any shade anywhere. A long +way off to the north, she saw a little clump of pines and +oaks. She walked slowly in that direction, keeping her +foothold with difficulty in the rolling gravel on the steep +side of the hill. Just as she reached the first oak-bush, her +foot slipped, and she clutched hard at the bush to save herself: +the bush gave way, and she rolled down, bush and all, +to the very bottom of the ravine. Luckily, it was soft, +sandy gravel all the way, and she was not in the least hurt: +only very dirty and a good deal frightened.</p> + +<p>"I'll walk along now at the bottom, where it is level," +said Nelly, "and not climb up till I come to where the trees +are."</p> + +<p>There had been at some time or other a little stream in +this ravine, and it was in the stony bed of it that Nelly was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span> +walking. She looked very carefully at the stones. They +were all light gray or reddish colored: not a black one among +them. She had in her pocket the little piece Mr. Kleesman +had given her: she took it out, and looked at it again. It +was totally unlike all the stones she saw about her.</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear!" sighed Nelly: "I expect I won't find it +to-day. I'll come again to-morrow. At any rate, I'll go +to that nice, shady place to eat my lunch."</p> + +<p>It was further than she thought. In Colorado, every +thing looks a great deal nearer to you than it really is: the +air is so thin and light that mountains twenty miles away +look as if they were not more than three or four; and there +are a great many funny stories of the mistakes into which +travellers are led by this peculiarity of the air. They set +off before breakfast, perhaps, to walk to a hill which looks +only a little way off; and, after they have walked an hour +or two, there stands the hill, still seeming just as far off as +ever. One of the funniest stories is of a man who had +been cheated in this way so often that at last he didn't +believe his eyes any longer as to whether a distance were +long or short; and one day he was found taking off his shoes +and stockings to wade through a little ditch that anybody +could easily step over.</p> + +<p>"Why, man alive!" said the people who stood by, "what +are you about? You don't need to wade a little ditch like +that! Step across it."</p> + +<p>"Ha!" said he, "you needn't try to fool me any more. +I expect that ditch is ten feet wide."</p> + +<p>Nelly walked on and on in the narrow stony bed of the +dried-up stream. The stones hurt her feet, but it was +easier walking than on the rolling gravel of the steep sides +above. She stopped thinking about the black stones. She +was so hot and tired and hungry, all she thought of was +getting to the trees to sit down. At last she reached the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span> +place just below them. They were much higher up on the +hillside than she had supposed. She stood looking up at +them.</p> + +<p>"I expect I'll tumble before I get up there," she thought. +It looked about as steep as the side of the roof to a house. +But the shade was so cool and inviting that Nelly thought +it worth trying for. Half-way up her feet slipped, and +down she came on her knees. She scrambled up; and, as +she looked down, what should she see, in the place where +her knees pressed into the gravel, but a bit of the black +stone! At first she thought it was the very piece she had +had in her pocket; but she felt in her pocket, and there was +her own piece all safe. She took it out, held the two together, +looked at them, turned them over and over: yes! the +stones were really, exactly the same color! Now she was +so excited that she forgot all about the heat, and all about +her hunger.</p> + +<p>"This must be the very ravine!" she said, and began to +look eagerly about her for more of the stones. Not another +bit could she find! In her eager search, she did not observe +that she was slowly working down the hill, till suddenly +she found herself again at the bottom of the ravine, in the +dried bed of the brook. Then she stood still, and looked +around her, considering what to do. At last she decided to +walk on up the ravine.</p> + +<p>"The big pile of them was right in such a deep place as +this," thought Nelly: "I guess it's farther up."</p> + +<p>It was very hard walking, and Nelly was beginning to +grow tired and discouraged again, when lo! right at her +feet, in among the gray stones and the red ones, lay a small +black one. She picked it up: it was of the same kind. A +few steps farther on, another, and another: she began to +stoop fast, picking them up, one by one. She had one hand +full: then she looked ahead, and, only a little farther on, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span>there she saw the very place she recollected so well,—the +ravine full of bushes, and low pine trees, and piles of stones +among them. She had found it! Can you imagine how +Nelly felt? You see she believed that it was just the same +thing as if she had found a great sum of money. How +would you feel if you should suddenly find at your feet +thousands and thousands of dollars, if your father and +mother were very poor, and needed money very much? I +think you would feel just as Nelly did. She sat straight +down on the ground, and looked at the stones, and felt as +if she should cry,—she was so glad! Then the thought +came into her mind:—</p> + +<p>"Perhaps this land belongs to somebody who won't sell +it. Perhaps he knows there is a mine here!" She looked +all about, but she could not see any stakes set up to show +that it was owned by any one: so she hoped it was not.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 475px;"> +<img src="images/illus03.jpg" width="475" height="690" alt="the place she recollected" title="the place she recollected" /> +<span class="caption">There she saw the very place she recollected so well. +Page 257.</span> +</div> + +<p>Now that the excitement of the search was over, she began +to feel very hungry again, and ate her lunch with a +great relish. The thoughtful Lucinda had put in the basket +a small bottle of milk. Nelly thought she had never tasted +any thing so good in her life as that milk. When you are +very thirsty, milk tastes much better than water. After +Nelly had eaten her lunch, she filled her basket with the +black stones, and set off for home. Presently she began +to wonder if she could find her way back again to the spot.</p> + +<p>"That would be too dreadful," thought she: "to lose it, +now I've just found it." Then she recollected how, in the +story of Hop o' My Thumb, it said that when he was carried +off into the forest he slyly dropped beans all along the +way, to mark the path, and thus found his way back, very +easily by means of them. So she resolved to walk along in +the bed of the stream, till it was time to climb up and strike +off toward Lucinda's, and then to drop red stones all along +the way she went, till she reached the beaten road. She<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span> +took up the skirt of her gown in front, and filled it full +with little red stones. Then she trudged along with as light +a heart as ever any little girl had, scattering the stones along +the way, like a farmer planting corn.</p> + +<p>When she reached the road, she was surprised to see that +she had come out the other side of Lucinda's house, full +quarter of a mile nearer home.</p> + +<p>"Now this isn't anywhere near where I left the road before," +she said. "How'll I ever tell the place?"</p> + +<p>At first she thought she would put a bush up in the crotch +of a little pine-tree that stood just there.</p> + +<p>"No, that won't do," she said: "the wind might blow +it out."</p> + +<p>Then she thought she would stick the bush in the sand; +but she feared some horse or cow might munch it and pull +it up. At last she decided to break down a small bough of +the pine-tree, and leave it hanging.</p> + +<p>"We can't make a mistake, then, possibly," she thought.</p> + +<p>When she reached the house, Lucinda had cleared the bedquilt +all away, and had the table set for supper, though it +was only half-past four o'clock. Nelly was not hungry. It +seemed to her only a few minutes since she ate her lunch.</p> + +<p>"Did you find the place, Nelly?" said Lucinda.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Nelly.</p> + +<p>"Was it as pretty as it was before?" Lucinda asked.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes!" said Nelly; "but it was awful steep getting +down to it. I kept tumbling down."</p> + +<p>"Well, you're the curiousest child ever was!" exclaimed +Lucinda. "Anybody'd think you got walkin' enough in a +week without trampin' off this way."</p> + +<p>Nelly did not reply. She felt a little guilty at letting +Lucinda think it was only to find a pretty place she had +gone; but she was sure it would not be best to tell anybody +about the black stones till she had told her father. She<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span> +had hid them all in a pile near the pine-tree whose branch +she had broken down; and she meant to pick them up on +her way home the next night. In the morning it looked to +Nelly as if it never would be night, she was in such a +hurry to see her father.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Lucinda," she said, "do give me something to do! +I don't want to go off to-day. I want to stay with you." +So Lucinda gave her some brown towels to hem, and also +let her snap the chalked cord with which she marked off +the pattern on her quilt; and, by help of these two occupations, +Nelly contrived to get through the day, till four +o'clock, when she set out for home. As good luck would +have it, when she was within quarter of a mile from home +she saw her father at work in a field. She jumped over the +fence and ran to him.</p> + +<p>"Papa! papa!" she said, breathless: "look here!" And +she held up her basket of black stones. "This is the kind +of stone that comes where the silver is. There is a mine +underneath it always: Mr. Kleesman said so. And I've +found a mine: I'll show you where it is."</p> + +<p>Mr. March laughed very heartily.</p> + +<p>"Why, my dear little girl!" he said, "what ever put such +an idea into your head? I don't believe those stones are +good for any thing."</p> + +<p>Nelly set down her basket, and pulled her pocket-handkerchief +out of her pocket: the little piece of black stone she +had got from Mr. Kleesman was tied firmly in one corner.</p> + +<p>"Look at that, papa," she said, "and see if the stones in +the basket are not just like it." Then she told her father +all about the man's coming into the assayer's office with a +bag of stones like that one, and what Mr. Kleesman said +to him.</p> + +<p>"Don't you see, papa," she said, vehemently, "that it +must be a mine? Why, there are piles of it: it has all<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span> +slipped down into the bottom of this steep place; there used +to be a brook down there. I know it's a mine, papa! And +if I found it, it's ours: isn't it?"</p> + +<p>Nelly's cheeks were red, and her words came so fast they +almost choked her.</p> + +<p>"Nelly, dear," said her father, "don't you recollect that +once before you thought you had found silver ore, you and +Rob, up in the Ute Pass?"</p> + +<p>Nelly looked ashamed.</p> + +<p>"Oh, papa," she said, "that was quite different. That +was when we were little things. Papa, I know this is a +mine. If you'd heard what Mr. Kleesman said, you'd think +so too. He said in his country they had a proverb, that no +mine was good for any thing unless it had a black hat on +its head; and that meant that there were always black stones +on top like this."</p> + +<p>Mr. March turned the little bit of black stone over and +over, and examined it carefully.</p> + +<p>"I do not know much about minerals," he said. "I +think I never saw a stone like this."</p> + +<p>"Nor I either, papa," exclaimed Nelly: "except in this +one place. I know it's a mine, and I'll give it to you all for +your own. It's mine, isn't it, if I found it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, dear, it's yours, unless somebody else had found +it before you."</p> + +<p>"I don't believe anybody had," said Nelly; "for there +weren't any stakes stuck down anywhere near; and all the +claims have stakes stuck down round them. Oh, papa! +isn't it splendid! now we can have all the money we want."</p> + +<p>Mr. March smiled half sadly.</p> + +<p>"My dear little daughter," he said, "there are a great +many more people who have lost all the money they had in +the world trying to get money out of a mine, than there are +who have made fortunes in that way. You must not get<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span> +so excited. Even if there is a mine in the place where you +found these stones, I don't think I have money enough to +open it and take out the ore. But I will show these stones +to Mr. Scholfield. He knows a great deal about mines."</p> + +<p>"Oh, do! do! papa," exclaimed Nelly. "I know it's a +mine."</p> + +<p>"I am going down there to-night," said Mr. March. +"I will carry your stones, and see what he says. In the +mean time, we will not say any thing about it to anybody. +You and papa will just have a little secret."</p> + +<p>When Nelly kissed her father for good-night, she nodded +at him with a meaning glance, and he returned the nod with +an equally meaning one.</p> + +<p>"What are you two plotting?" cried Mrs. March. "I +see mischief in both your eyes."</p> + +<p>"Oh, it's a little secret we have, Nelly and I," said Mr. +March. "It won't last long: we'll tell you to-morrow."</p> + +<p>It turned out that Mrs. March did not have to wait till +the next day before learning the secret. Mr. March got +home about midnight from Mr. Scholfield's. Mrs. March +had been sound asleep for two hours: the sound of Mr. +March's steps wakened her.</p> + +<p>"Is that you, Robert?" she called.</p> + +<p>"Yes," he said. There was something in the tone of his +voice which was so strange that it roused her instantly. +She sat up straight in bed and exclaimed:—</p> + +<p>"What is the matter?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing," said Mr. March.</p> + +<p>"Nonsense!" said Mrs. March: "you can't deceive me. +Something has happened. Come in here this minute and +tell me what it is."</p> + +<p>Then Mr. March told her the whole story. He had +taken Nelly's stones to Mr. Scholfield, who had said immediately +that there was without doubt a mine in the place<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span> +where that mineral was found; and, when Mr. March had +told him as nearly as he could from Nelly's description +where the spot was, he had said that no mines had yet been +discovered very near that place, and no claims were staked +out.</p> + +<p>"Scholfield says we must go immediately and stake out +our claim. He'll go shares with me in digging; and at any +rate will see what's there," said Mr. March.</p> + +<p>"Do you believe in it yourself, Robert?" asked Mrs. +March. She was much afraid of new schemes for making +money.</p> + +<p>"Why, I can't say I'm very enthusiastic about it," replied +Mr. March; "but then I don't know any thing about mines, +you see. Scholfield was near wild over it. He says we've +got silver there sure."</p> + +<p>"Will you have to find money to begin with?" asked +Mrs. March, anxiously.</p> + +<p>"Well, Sarah, considering that we haven't got any +money, I don't see how I can: do you?" laughed Mr. +March. "But Scholfield says that if I will give him a third +of the mine, he'll take another man in, and they two'll pay +for the working it at first. That seems very fair: doesn't +it?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know," said Mrs. March. "If the mine really +does turn out to be very valuable, it is giving him a good +deal."</p> + +<p>"That is true," replied Mr. March. "But, on the other +hand, perhaps it is not worth any thing; and, in that case, +Scholfield has the worst of the bargain. He says, though, +he can tell very soon. He has been in mining a good deal; +and he can make his own assays with the blow-pipe. We're +to start very early in the morning, and take Nelly along to +show us the way. The dear child was nearly beside herself +last night."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span></p> + +<p>"So that was your secret: was it?" said Mrs. March.</p> + +<p>"Yes, and a very hard one it was for the child to keep +too," said Mr. March. "She was half crazy to tell Rob."</p> + +<p>"You'll take him along too: won't you?" asked Mrs. +March.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes," said Mr. March: "no more secrets now; +that is, not in this house. We won't have it talked round, +if we can help it. Scholfield says that the minute it is known +we've found silver there, those ravines will just swarm with +men prospecting for more claims."</p> + +<p>The next day, Mr. March and Mr. Scholfield and Rob +and Nelly set out immediately after breakfast for the ravine. +They stopped at Billy's house and took him with +them. Mr. Scholfield had said to Mr. March, as they walked +along:—</p> + +<p>"If Long Billy'll go in with us, I'd rather have him than +any man I know about here. He's as honest 's daylight; I +don't think he's doing much this summer; I think he'll go to +work digging right away."</p> + +<p>Wasn't Nelly a proud little girl as she walked ahead of +the party? She kept hold of Rob's hand, and every now +and then they would run so fast that the older people had to +run, too, to keep up with them.</p> + +<p>"How do you know the way so well, Nelly?" said Mr. +Scholfield.</p> + +<p>Nelly laughed.</p> + +<p>"If you watch closely, you can see what I tell by," she +said. "It's in plain sight."</p> + +<p>"Yes, plain sight! plain sight!" shouted Rob, to whom +Nelly had pointed out the little red stones. "It's out of a +story."</p> + +<p>Mr. Scholfield and Mr. March and Billy all looked around, +perplexed; but they could see nothing.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, tell us the secret, Guide," said Mr. March. "We +are stupid: we can't find it out."</p> + +<p>Then Nelly told them; and as soon as she pointed to the +red stones they wondered very much that they had not +noticed them before.</p> + +<p>It seemed a very short way to the ravine, this time: Nelly +had reached it before she thought of its being near.</p> + +<p>"Why, here it is," she said; "I didn't think we were half +way there."</p> + +<p>Then she and Rob sat on the ground and watched the +others. Rob was very quiet. He was a good deal overawed +at the idea of a real silver mine all for their own.</p> + +<p>"Do you suppose it's right here, right under our feet, +Nell?" said he, stamping his foot on the ground.</p> + +<p>"I dare say," said Nelly. "Perhaps it is all over round +here: some of them are as big as a mile."</p> + +<p>"I wonder if they'll let us go down as often as we want +to," said Rob. "They'll have to, won't they, if it's our own +mine?"</p> + +<p>"That'll be for papa to say," answered Nelly, decidedly. +"I've given it to him. It's his mine."</p> + +<p>While the children was thus building their innocent air-castles +in a small way, the brains of the older people were +building no less actively, and on a larger scale. Both Billy +and Mr. Scholfield were much excited. Billy ran from +spot to spot, now hammering a stone in two with his hammer, +now digging fiercely into the ground with his pick-axe. +Mr. Scholfield went about picking up the black stones, and +piling them together, till he had quite a monument of them.</p> + +<p>"I declare," he said at last, "it beats me that this place +hasn't ever been found before, much 's this country's been +prospected over and over. I don't know what to make of it. +But there isn't a sign of a claim here for miles: I know +that."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well, I'll tell yer what I'm a thinkin'," said Billy. "I'm +a thinkin' that 's fur back 's them fust prospectin' days there +was a creek in here; 'n' thet's the reason there didn't nobody +look here. I've heern it said hundreds o' times in +town thet there wan't no use lookin' along these ridges; +they'd all been looked over thorough, 'n' there wan't nothin' +in 'em. But we've struck a silver mine, sure: I hain't any +doubt of it. Let's name her 'The Little Nelly.'"</p> + +<p>Mr. March's face grew red. He did not like the idea of +having a mine called after Nelly; but he did not want to +hurt Billy's feelings. Before he could speak, Mr. Scholfield +cried out:—</p> + +<p>"Good for you, Billy! That's what we'll call it! That's +a name to bring good luck. 'The Little Nelly!' and may +she turn out not so 'little,' after all; and the first bucketful +of ore we draw up, Nelly, we'll drink your health, and +christen the mine."</p> + +<p>Nelly did not quite understand what all this meant.</p> + +<p>"Did you mean that I am to name the mine, sir?" she +said.</p> + +<p>"No," said Mr. Scholfield: "we meant that we were +going to name it for you, by your name. But you can name +it, if you like. That would be luckier still. Don't you like +to have it called by your name?"</p> + +<p>Nelly hesitated.</p> + +<p>"I think I would rather not have it named after me," +she said: "some of the mines have such dreadful names. +But I know a name I think would be a real pretty name."</p> + +<p>"What's that?" said her father.</p> + +<p>"The Good Luck," said Nelly.</p> + +<p>Billy clapped his knee hard with his hand.</p> + +<p>"By jingo!" said he, "that's the best name ever was +given to a mine yet. 'The Good Luck' it shall be; and +good luck it was to you, Nelly, the day you struck it. Old<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span> +Pine he said, one day last spring, mebbe you'd find a mine, +when I was a tellin' him how you 'n' Rob was allers lookin' +for one."</p> + +<p>"But I wasn't looking for this, Billy," said Nelly. "I +gave up looking for one a long time ago, when we began +to sell the eggs. It was just an accident that I happened +to remember the black stones in here."</p> + +<p>"That's the way some of the best mines have been +found," said Mr. Scholfield: "just by sheer accident. There +was a man I knew, in California, had his mule run away +from him one day: it was somewhere in that Tuolomne region; +and if that mule didn't run straight down into a gulch +that was just washed full of free gold,—and the fellow +had been walking in it some time before he noticed it! +There's a heap o' luck in this world."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Mr. March, "there's a great deal of luck; +but there is a great deal which is set down to luck which +isn't luck. Now, if my little girl here hadn't had the good-will +and the energy to try to earn some money for her +mother and me, she wouldn't have been searching for a +short cut to Rosita over these hills, and would never have +found this mine."</p> + +<p>"That's so," said Mr. Scholfield, looking admiringly at +Nelly. "She's a most uncommon girl, that Nelly of yours. +I think we ought to call the mine after her; it's hers."</p> + +<p>"No," said Mr. March: "I like her name for it best. +Let us call it 'The Good Luck.'"</p> + +<p>Mrs. March was watching for her husband and children +when they came down the lane. She had been much more +excited about the silver mine than she had confessed to Mr. +March. All day long she had been unable to keep it out of +her mind. The prospect was too tempting. "Why should +it not have happened to us, as well as to so many people," +she thought. "Oh! if we only could have just money<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span> +enough to give Rob and Nelly a good education, I would +not ask for any thing more. And, even if this is not very +much of a mine, it might give us money enough for that." +With such hopes and imaginations as these Mrs. March's +mind had been full all day long; and, when she saw Mr. +March and Rob and Nelly coming toward the house, she +felt almost afraid to see them, lest she should see disappointment +written on their faces.</p> + +<p>Not at all. Rob and Nelly came bounding on ahead, and, +as they drew near the door, they shouted out:—</p> + +<p>"The Good Luck! The Good Luck! It is named 'The +Good Luck.'"</p> + +<p>"They wanted to call it 'The Little Nelly,' but Nelly +wouldn't," said Rob. "I don't see why. If I'd found it, +I'd have called it 'The Rob,' I know. They didn't ask me +to let them call it for me. If they had, they might and +welcome."</p> + +<p>"It is really a mine, then?" said Mrs. March, looking at +her husband.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Sarah, I think it is," he replied. "If Scholfield +and Billy know,—and they seem to be very sure,—there +is good promise of silver there; and Nelly herself has named +it 'The Good Luck.'"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Nelly! did you, really?" exclaimed Mrs. March. +"You dear child!" And she threw both arms around +Nelly, and gave her a great hug. "That's a lovely name. +I do believe it will bring luck."</p> + +<p>"I didn't want it named after me," said Nelly. "It isn't +as if it was a live thing—"</p> + +<p>"Subjunctive mood, dear! 'as if it were,'" interrupted +Mrs. March.</p> + +<p>"As if it were," repeated Nelly, looking confused. "I +wish they'd left the subjunctive mood out of the grammar. +I sha'n't ever learn it! It isn't as if it were a live thing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span> +like a baby or a kitten. I wouldn't mind having such things +called after me, but some of the mines have the awfullest +names, mamma: real wicked names, that I shouldn't dare +to say."</p> + +<p>"Well, they'll call it after you, anyhow, Nell," cried Rob. +"Billy said so, coming home."</p> + +<p>"They won't either," said Nelly, "when it was my own +mine, only I gave it to papa, and I asked them not to; I +think it would be real mean."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't mean Mr. Scholfield and Billy," said Rob: +"they called it 'The Good Luck' as soon as you said so; +but the men around town. They'll hear it was you found it; +and they'll call it 'The Nelly,' always: you see if they +don't."</p> + +<p>"Rob, don't tease your sister so," said Mrs. March.</p> + +<p>"Why, does that tease you, Nell?" asked Rob, pretending +to be very innocent. "I was only telling you what +Billy said."</p> + +<p>"I don't believe it," said Nelly: "do you, papa?"</p> + +<p>"No," replied Mr. March. "I do not see why they +should give it any other name than the one the owners +give it."</p> + +<p>"Well, you'll see," said Rob. "There are ever so many +mines that go by two or three different names. There's one +way off in the north somewhere, where Billy used to haul +ore, is called 'Bobtail,' some of the time, and 'Miss Lucy,' +some of the time. They tried to change 'Bobtail' into +'Miss Lucy,' and they couldn't."</p> + +<p>"Couldn't!" exclaimed Nelly: "what do you mean by +that?"</p> + +<p>"Why, the people wouldn't," said Rob, saucily: "that's +all."</p> + +<p>"'That's all' about a great many things in this world,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span> +Rob," laughed his mother. "'Couldn't' is very apt to be +only another word for 'wouldn't' with a little boy I know."</p> + +<p>Rob laughed, and left off teasing Nelly about the name +of her mine.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER XIII</h2> + +<h4>"THE GOOD LUCK"</h4> + + +<p>Billy went to work the very next day at "The Good +Luck." First, he put up a little hut, which looked more +like an Indian wigwam than any thing else. This was for +him and Mr. Scholfield to sleep in.</p> + +<p>"We can't take time to go home nights till we get this +thing started," said Billy. "If we've got ore here, the +sooner we get some on't out the better; an' if we hain't got +ore here, the sooner we find that out the better."</p> + +<p>All day long, day after day, Billy and Mr. Scholfield dug, +till they had a big hole, as deep as a well, dug in the ground. +Then they put a windlass at the top, with a long rope +fastened to it, and a bucket on the end of the rope. This +bucket they lowered down into the hole, just as you lower +a water-bucket down into a well; then they filled it full of +the stones which they thought had silver in them, and then +turned the windlass and drew it up.</p> + +<p>Mr. Scholfield pounded some of these stones very fine, +and melted them with his blow-pipe, and got quite big buttons +of silver out of them. He gave some of these to Mr. +March. When he showed these to Nelly, she exclaimed:—-</p> + +<p>"Oh! these are a great deal bigger than any I saw in +Mr. Kleesman's office. Our mine must be a good one."</p> + +<p>Mr. Scholfield was in great glee. He made the most +extravagant statements, and talked very foolishly about +the mine: said he would not take half a million of dollars +for his third of it; and so on, till old, experienced miners<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span> +shook their heads and said he was crazy. But, when they +saw the round buttons of shining silver which he had extracted +from the stones, they stopped shaking their heads, +and thought perhaps he was right. The fame of "The +Good Luck" spread all over town; and, as Billy had said +there would be, there were many who persisted in calling +the mine "The Nelly." Almost everybody in Rosita knew +Nelly by sight by this time; and it gave the mine much +greater interest in their eyes that it had been found by this +good, industrious little girl, whom everybody liked. Whenever +Nelly went to town now, people asked her about her +mine. She always answered:—</p> + +<p>"It isn't my mine: it is my papa's."</p> + +<p>"But you found it," they would say.</p> + +<p>"I found the black hat it wore on its head," was Nelly's +usual reply: "that is all. Mr. Scholfield and Billy found +the silver."</p> + +<p>It happened that it was nearly three weeks before Rob +and Nelly went to Mr. Kleesman's house again. They had +now a new interest, which made them hurry through with +all they had to do in Rosita, so as to have time on their way +home to stop at "The Good Luck," and watch Billy and +Mr. Scholfield at work. It was an endless delight to them +to see the windlass wind, wind, wind, and watch the heavy +bucket of stone slowly coming up to the mouth of the hole. +Then Billy would let Rob take the bucket and empty it on +the pile of shining gray ore which grew higher and higher +every day. Sometimes the children stayed here so late that +it was after dark when they reached home; and at last Mrs. +March told them that they must not go to the mine every +time they went to Rosita: it made their walk too long. She +said they might go only every other time.</p> + +<p>"Let's go Tuesdays," said Rob.</p> + +<p>"Why?" said Nelly.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It never seems half so long from Tuesday till Friday +as it does from Friday to Tuesday," said Rob.</p> + +<p>"Why, why not?" asked Nelly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't know," said Rob. "Sunday's twice as long +as any other day: I guess that's it."</p> + +<p>"But you've got the Sunday each week," exclaimed +Nelly: "it isn't any shorter from Tuesday to Tuesday than +from Friday to Friday: what a silly boy! The Sunday +comes in all the same. Don't you see?"</p> + +<p>Rob looked puzzled.</p> + +<p>"I don't care," he said "it seems ever so much shorter."</p> + +<p>The first day that they were not to go to the mine, Rob +said:—</p> + +<p>"See here, Nell: if we can't go to the mine, let's go and +see old Mr. Kleesman. His furnace must be done by this +time. Perhaps he'll be making an assay to-day."</p> + +<p>"Oh, good!" said Nelly. "I declare I'd almost forgotten +all about him: hadn't you?"</p> + +<p>"No, indeed!" said Rob: "I liked the mine better; but +let's go there to-day."</p> + +<p>"And we'll go and eat our lunch at Ulrica's too," said +Nelly. "We haven't taken it there for ever so long: she +said so Tuesday. We'll go to-day."</p> + +<p>"So we will," said Rob. "Perhaps she'll have stewed +chicken."</p> + +<p>"Oh, for shame, Rob!" said Nelly.</p> + +<p>"What for?" said Rob: "I don't see any shame. +Where's the shame?"</p> + +<p>"Shame to think about something to eat when you go +to see people," replied Nelly.</p> + +<p>"Now, Nell March, didn't you think of it, honest Indian?" +said Rob.</p> + +<p>"Well, it's worse to say it," stammered Nelly. "Perhaps<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span> +I did think of it, just a little, little bit; but I always +try not to."</p> + +<p>"Ha! ha! Miss Nell! I've caught you this time; and I +don't think it's a bit worse to say it: so, there! Stewed +chicken! stewed chicken!" And Rob danced along in front +of Nelly, shouting the words in her very face. Nelly could +not help laughing, though she was angry.</p> + +<p>"Rob," she said, "you can be the worst torment I ever +saw."</p> + +<p>"That's only because you haven't had any other torment +but me," cried Rob, still dancing along backwards in front +of Nelly.</p> + +<p>"Hullo! hullo!" said a loud, gruff voice just behind him: +"don't run me down, young man! Which side of the way +will you have, or will you have both?"</p> + +<p>Very much confused, Rob turned and found himself +nearly in the arms of an old man with rough clothes on, +but with such a nice, benevolent face that Rob knew he was +not going to be angry with him.</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon, sir," he said. "I didn't see you."</p> + +<p>"Naturally you didn't, since you have no eyes in the back +of your head," said the old man. "Do you always walk +backwards, or is it only when you are teasing your sister?"</p> + +<p>Nelly hastened to defend Rob.</p> + +<p>"Oh, sir," she said, "he was not really teasing me: he +was only in fun."</p> + +<p>The old man smiled and nodded.</p> + +<p>"That's right! that's right!" he said.</p> + +<p>They had just now reached Mr. Kleesman's steps. Rob +sprang up, two steps at a time.</p> + +<p>"What!" said the old man, "are you going in here? So +am I." And they all went in together.</p> + +<p>Mr. Kleesman was very glad to see Nelly.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I haf miss you for many days," he said. "Vy is it +you not come more to see assay?"</p> + +<p>"We have been very busy," said Nelly: "and have not +stayed in town any longer than we needed to sell our things."</p> + +<p>"I know! I know!" said Mr. Kleesman: "you haf been +at the Goot Luck mine!"</p> + +<p>"Why, who told you about it?" exclaimed Rob.</p> + +<p>"Ach!" said Mr. Kleesman, "you tink dat mines be to +be hid in dis town? Not von but knows of 'Goot Luck,' +dat the little maid-child haf found;" and he looked at Nelly +and smiled affectionately. "And not von but iss glad," he +added, patting her on the head.</p> + +<p>Then he turned to the old man who had come in with +the children, and said, politely:—</p> + +<p>"Vat can I do for you, sir?"</p> + +<p>The man took off his hat and sat down, and pulled out +of his pocket a little bag of stones, and threw it on the table.</p> + +<p>"Tell me if that's worth any thing," he said.</p> + +<p>Mr. Kleesman took a small stone out of the bag, and +called:—</p> + +<p>"Franz! Franz!"</p> + +<p>Franz was Mr. Kleesman's servant. He tended the fires, +and pounded up the stones fine in an iron mortar, and did +all Mr. Kleesman's errands.</p> + +<p>Franz came running; and Mr. Kleesman gave him the +stone, and said something to him in German. Franz took +the stone, and disappeared in the back room.</p> + +<p>"After he haf make it fine," said Mr. Kleesman, "I shall +assay it for you." Then, turning to Nelly and Rob, he +said:—</p> + +<p>"Can you stay? I make three assay now in three cups."</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed, we can!" said Nelly: "thank you! That +is what we came for. We thought the furnace must be +mended by this time."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span></p> + +<p>While Franz was pounding the stone, the old man told +Mr. Kleesman about his mine. Nelly listened with attentive +ears to all he said: but Rob was busy studying the +pretty little brass scales in the glass box. The man said +that he and two other men had been at work for some +months at this mine. The other two men were sure the +ore was good; one of them had tried it with the blow-pipe, +he said, and got plenty of silver.</p> + +<p>"But I just made up my mind," said the man, "that, +before I put any more money in there, I'd come to somebody +that knew. I ain't such a sodhead as to think I can +tell so well about things as a man that's studied 'em all his +life; and I asked all about, and they all said, 'Kleesman's +the man: he'd give you an honest assay of his own mind if +he could get at it and weigh it.'"</p> + +<p>Mr. Kleesman laughed heartily. He was much pleased +at this compliment to his honesty.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I tell you all true," he said. "If it be bad, or if it +be good, I tell true."</p> + +<p>"That's what I want," said the man.</p> + +<p>Then Franz came in with the fine-powdered stone in a +paper. Mr. Kleesman took some of it and weighed it in the +little brass scales. Then he took some fine-powdered lead +and weighed that. Then he mixed the fine lead and the +powdered stone together with a knife.</p> + +<p>"I take twelve times as much lead as there iss of the +stone," he said.</p> + +<p>"What is the lead for?" asked Nelly.</p> + +<p>"The lead he will draw out of the stone all that are bad: +you will see."</p> + +<p>Then he put the powdered stone and the lead he had +mixed together into a little clay cup, and covered it over +with more of the fine-powdered lead. Then he put in a little +borax.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span></p> + +<p>"He helps it to melt," he said.</p> + +<p>Then he went through into the back room, carrying this +cup and two others which were standing on the table already +filled with powder ready to be baked.</p> + +<p>Rob and Nelly and the old man followed him. He opened +the door of the little oven and looked in: it was glowing +red hot. Then he took up each cup in tongs, and set it in +the oven. When all three were in, he took some burning +coals from the fire above, and put them in the mouth of the +oven, in front of the cups.</p> + +<p>"Dat iss dat cold air from door do not touch dem," he +said. Then he shut the door tight, and said:—</p> + +<p>"Now ve go back. Ve vait fifteen minute."</p> + +<p>He held his watch in his hand, so as not to make a mistake. +When the fifteen minutes were over he opened the +oven-door to let a current of cool air blow above the little +cups. Nelly stood on a box, as she had before, and looked +in through the queer board with holes in it for the eyes. +The metal in the little cups was bubbling and as red as fire. +Rob tried to look, but the heat hurt his eyes so he could not +bear it.</p> + +<p>"Ven de cold air strike the cups," said Mr. Kleesman, +"then the slag are formed."</p> + +<p>"Oh, what is slag?" cried Rob.</p> + +<p>"All that are bad go into the slag," said Mr. Kleesman.</p> + +<p>Then he put on a pair of thick gloves, and a hat on his +head, and went close up to the fiery oven door, and took +out the cups, and emptied them into little hollow places in +a sheet of zinc. The instant the hot metal touched the cool +zinc, it spread out into a fiery red rose.</p> + +<p>"Oh, how lovely!" cried Nelly.</p> + +<p>"By jingo!" said Rob.</p> + +<p>Even while they were speaking, the bright red rose turned +dark,—hardened,—and there lay three shining buttons,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span> +flat and round. Their rims looked like dark glass; and in +their centres was a bright, silvery spot.</p> + +<p>Mr. Kleesman took a hammer and pounded off all this +dark, shining rim. Then he pounded the little silvery buttons +which were left into the right shape to fit into some +tiny little clay cups he had there. They were shaped like a +flower-pot, but only about an inch high.</p> + +<p>"Now these must bake one-half hour again," he said; +and put them into the oven. Pretty soon he opened the +oven-door to let the cold air in again, as he had done before. +That would make all the lead go off, he said: it would +melt into the little cups, and leave nothing but the pure +silver behind.</p> + +<p>"Now vatch! vatch!" he said to Nelly. "In von minute +you shall see a flash in de cups, like lightning, just one second: +it are de last of de lead driven avay; den all is done."</p> + +<p>Nelly watched with all her might. Sure enough, flash! +flash! flash! in all three of the cups it went; the cups were +fiery red; as Mr. Kleesman took them out, they turned +yellow; they looked like the yolk of a hard-boiled egg hollowed +out,—and there, in the bottom of each, lay a tiny, +tiny silver button! Mr. Kleesman carried them into the +front room and weighed them. Two of them were heavy +enough to more than weigh down the little button which +was always kept in the left-hand scale. That showed that +the ore had silver enough in it to make it worth while to +work it. The third one was so small you could hardly see +it. That was the one which belonged to the old man.</p> + +<p>"You ore are not worth not'ing," said Mr. Kleesman +to him. Nelly looked sorrowfully at the old man's face; but +he only smiled, and said:—</p> + +<p>"Well, that's just what I've suspicioned all along. I +didn't believe much in all that blow-pipe work. I'm out +about a hundred dollars,—that's all,—not counting my<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span> +time any thing. It's the time I grudge more'n the money. +Much obliged to ye, sir." And the philosophical old fellow +handed out his three dollars to pay for the assay, and +walked off as composedly as if he had had good news instead +of bad.</p> + +<p>Nelly looked very grave. She was thinking of what her +father had said about Mr. Scholfield's blow-pipe.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps Mr. Scholfield was all wrong too, just like this +other man. Perhaps our mine isn't good for any thing."</p> + +<p>Nelly's face was so long that kind-hearted Mr. Kleesman +noticed it, and said:—</p> + +<p>"You haf tired: it are too long that you look at too +many t'ings. You shall sit here and be quiet."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, thank you," said Nelly: "I am not tired. I +was only thinking."</p> + +<p>Mr. Kleesman really loved Nelly, and it distressed him +to <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'seek'">see</ins> her look troubled. He wanted to know what +troubled her; but he did not like to ask. He looked at her +very sympathizingly, and did not say any thing.</p> + +<p>"Is not a blow-pipe good for any thing to tell about +silver?" said Nelly, presently.</p> + +<p>"Oh, ho!" thought Mr. Kleesman to himself: "now I +know what the little wise maiden is thinking: it is her +father's mine. It did not escape her one word which this +man said."</p> + +<p>But he replied to her question as if he had not thought +any thing farther.</p> + +<p>"Not very much: the blow-pipe cannot tell true. It tell +part true; not all true."</p> + +<p>Nelly sighed, and said:—</p> + +<p>"Come, Rob: it is time for us to go. We are very much +obliged to you for letting us see the assay. It is the most +wonderful thing I <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'never'">ever</ins> saw. It is just like a fairy story. +Come, Rob."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span></p> + +<p>Rob also thanked Mr. Kleesman; and they went slowly +down the steps.</p> + +<p>"Stay! stay!" said Mr. Kleesman. "Little one, vill +you not ask your father that he send me some of the ore +from the Goot Luck mine? I shall assay it for you, and I +vill tell you true how much silver there should come from +each ton, that you are not cheated at the mill vere dey take +your ore to make in de silver brick."</p> + +<p>Nelly ran back to Mr. Kleesman, and took his hand in +hers.</p> + +<p>"Oh, thank you! thank you!" she said: "that was what +I was thinking about. I was thinking what if our mine +should turn out like that man's that was here this morning."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no: I t'ink not. Every von say it iss goot, very +goot," said Mr. Kleesman. "But I like to make assay. +You tell your father I make it for nothing: I make it for +you."</p> + +<p>"I will tell him," said Nelly; "and I am sure he will be +very glad to have you do it. I will bring some of the ore +next time. Good-by!" And she and Rob ran off very +fast, for it was past Ulrica's dinner-time.</p> + +<p>When they reached the house it was shut up: the curtains +down, and the door locked. Ulrica had gone away +for the day, to do washing at somebody's house; and Jan +had taken his dinner to the mill. The children sat on the +doorstep and ate their lunch, much disappointed. Then +they tried to think of some way to let Ulrica know they had +been there.</p> + +<p>"If we only had a card such as ladies used to leave for +mamma when she was away," said Rob, "that would be +nice."</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you," said Nelly: "we'll prick our names on +two of the cottonwood leaves in the top of your hat: they'll +do for cards."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span></p> + +<p>Rob always put a few green leaves in the top of his hat, +to make his head cool. It keeps out the heat of the sun +wonderfully. One variety of the cottonwood leaf is a +smooth, shining leaf, about as large as a lilac leaf, and much +like it in shape. This was the kind Rob had in his hat. +Nelly picked out the two biggest ones, and then with a pin +she slowly pricked "Nelly" on one and "Rob" on the +other.</p> + +<p>"There!" she said, when they were done: "aren't those +nice cards? Now I'll pin them on the door, close above +the handle, so that Ulrica can't open the door without seeing +them."</p> + +<p>"What fun!" said Rob. "I say, Nell, you're a capital +hand to think of things."</p> + +<p>Nelly laughed.</p> + +<p>"Why, Rob," she said, "sometimes you find fault with +me just because I do 'think of things,' as you call it."</p> + +<p>"Oh, those are different things," said Rob. "You know +what I mean: bothers. Such things as these cards are fun."</p> + +<p>When Ulrica came home at night from her washing, she +was very tired; and she put her hand on the handle of her +door and turned it almost without looking, and did not at +first see the green leaves. But, as the door swung in, she +saw them.</p> + +<p>"Ah, den! vat is dat?" she exclaimed. "Dem boys at +deir mischiefs again!" And she was about to tear the +leaves down angrily, when she caught sight of the fine-pricked +letters. She looked closer, and made out the word +"Nelly;" then on the other one "Rob."</p> + +<p>"Ach! mine child! mine child!" she exclaimed. "She +haf been here: she make that the green leaf say her name +to me. Mine blessed child!" And Ulrica took the leaves +and laid them away in a little yellow carved box, in the shape +of a tub, which she had brought from Sweden. When Jan<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span> +sat down at his supper, she took them out, and laid them +by his plate, and told him where she found them. Jan was +much pleased, and looked a long time curiously at the pricked +letters. Then he laid the leaves back in the box, and said to +Ulrica:—</p> + +<p>"Why do you not make for the child a gown, such as +the Swede child wears, of the blue and the red? Think you +not it would please her?"</p> + +<p>"Not to wear," said Ulrica. "She would not like that +every one should gaze."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, not to wear for people to see," said Jan; "but +to keep because it is strange and different from the dress of +this country. The rich people that did come travelling to +Sweden did all buy clothes like the Swede clothes, to take +home to keep and to show."</p> + +<p>"Yes! yes! I will!" exclaimed Ulrica, much delighted +at the thought; "but it shall have no buttons: we cannot +find buttons."</p> + +<p>"Wilhelm Sachs will make them for me out of tin: that +will do very well, just for a show," said Jan. "It is not for +money; but only that they shine and be round."</p> + +<p>So after supper Ulrica took the roll of blue cloth out of +the chest, and began to measure off the breadths.</p> + +<p>"How tell you that it is right?" said Jan.</p> + +<p>"By my heart," said the loving Ulrica: "I know mine +child her size by my heart. It vill be right."</p> + +<p>But for all that it turned out that she cut the breadths too +long, and had to hem a deep hem at the bottom; which +wasted some of the cloth, and vexed Ulrica's economical +soul. But we have not come to that yet. We must go +home with Nelly and Rob.</p> + +<p>Nelly had made up her mind not to tell her father any +thing about Mr. Kleesman's proposal to make the assay +until she could see him all alone; but she forgot to tell Rob<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span> +not to speak of it; and they had hardly taken their seats at +the tea-table when Rob exclaimed:—</p> + +<p>"Papa! don't you think Mr. Kleesman says a blow-pipe +isn't good for any thing to tell about silver with. And +there was a man there to-day, with ore out of his mine, and +it hadn't any silver at all in it,—not any to speak of,—and +he thought it was splendid: he and two other men; +they had tried it with a blow-pipe."</p> + +<p>Mr. Scholfield was taking tea with the Marches this +night. He listened with a smile to all Rob said. Then he +said:—</p> + +<p>"That's just like Kleesman. He thinks nobody but he +can tell any thing. It's the money he's after. I see through +him. Now I know I can make as good an assay with my +blow-pipe as he can with all his little cups and saucers and +gimcracks, any day."</p> + +<p>Nelly grew very red. She did not like to hear Mr. +Kleesman so spoken of. She opened her mouth to speak: +then bit her lips, and remained quiet.</p> + +<p>"What is it, Nelly?" said her father.</p> + +<p>"Nothing, sir," replied Nelly: "only I don't think Mr. +Kleesman is like that. He is very kind."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, he's kind enough," said Mr. Scholfield: "he's +a good-natured fellow. But it's all moonshine about his +being the only one who can make assays. There's a plenty +of mines working here to-day that haven't ever had any +assay made except by the blow-pipe. There's no use in +paying a fellow three or four or five dollars for doing what +you can do yourself."</p> + +<p>"But that man said—" began Rob.</p> + +<p>"Be quiet now, Rob," said Mr. March. "We won't talk +any more about it now."</p> + +<p>After Mr. Scholfield had gone away, Mr. March called +Nelly out of the room.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Come walk up and down in the lane with me, Nell," +he said, "and tell me all about what happened at Mr. +Kleesman's."</p> + +<p>Then Nelly told her father all about it, from beginning +to end.</p> + +<p>"Upon my word, Nell," he said, "you seem to have +studied the thing carefully. I should think you could +almost make an assay yourself."</p> + +<p>"I guess I could if I had the cups and things," said +Nelly: "I recollect every thing he did. But, papa, won't +you let him take some ore from our mine, and let him see +if it is good by his way? He won't ask us any thing: he +said he was doing it every day, and he could put in one +more cup as well as not. Oh, do, papa!"</p> + +<p>"I'll think about it," said Mr. March.</p> + +<p>That night he talked it over with Mrs. March, and she +was as anxious as Nelly that he should let Mr. Kleesman +make the assay. This decided Mr. March; and the next +morning he said to Nelly:—</p> + +<p>"Well, Nelly, you shall have your way,—you and +mamma. I will take some of the ore to your old friend. +I shall go up with you to-morrow myself, and carry it. I +do not like to send it by you."</p> + +<p>"Oh, good! good!" cried Nelly, and jumped up and +down, and ran away to find Rob and tell him that their +father would walk into town with them the next day.</p> + +<p>When Nelly walked into Mr. Kleesman's room, holding +her father by the hand, she felt very proud. She had +always thought her father handsomer and nicer to look at +than any other man in the world; and, when she said to +Mr. Kleesman, "Here is my father, sir," this pride was so +evident in her face that it made Mr. Kleesman laugh. It +did not make him love Nelly any less, however. It only +made him think sadly of the little girl way off in Germany,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span> +who would have just as much pride in his face as Nelly did +in her father's. Mr. Kleesman's love for Nelly made him +treat Mr. March like an old friend.</p> + +<p>"I am glad to see you here," he said. "I haf for your +little girl von great friendship: she iss so goot. I say often +to myself, she haf goot father, goot mother. She iss not +like American childs I haf seen."</p> + +<p>Mr. March was glad to have Nelly liked; but he did not +wish to have her praised in this open way. So he said, +very quickly:—</p> + +<p>"Yes, Nelly is a good girl. I have come to talk to you, +Mr. Kleesman, about our mine: perhaps you have heard +of it,—'The Good Luck.'"</p> + +<p>"Yes: I hear it is goot mine, very goot," replied Mr. +Kleesman. "I ask the child to bring me ore. I assay it +for you. It vill be pleasure to me."</p> + +<p>"That is what I was going to ask you to do," said Mr. +March. "I would like to know the exact truth about it +before I go any farther. Scholfield is pressing me to put in +machinery; but I do not like to spend money on it till I am +sure."</p> + +<p>"Dat iss right," said Mr. Kleesman. "Vait! vait! It +is always safe to vait. Haf you brought with you the +ore?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I have it here," replied Mr. March, and took a +small bag of it from his pocket. Mr. Kleesman examined +it very carefully. His face did not look cheerful. He took +piece after piece out of the bag, and, after examining them, +tossed them on the table with a dissatisfied air.</p> + +<p>"Is it all as dis?" he said.</p> + +<p>"Yes, about like that," replied Mr. March.</p> + +<p>Nelly watched Mr. Kleesman's face breathlessly.</p> + +<p>"I know he don't think it is good," she whispered to Rob.</p> + +<p>"I cannot tell till I make assay," said Mr. Kleesman.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span> +"But I t'ink it not so very good. To-morrow I vill know. +To-day I cannot do. I send you vord."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, you need not take that trouble," said Mr. +March. "The children will be in day after to-morrow. +They can call."</p> + +<p>"No, I send you vord," repeated Mr. Kleesman. "I +send you vord. Dere are plenty vays. I send you vord +to-morrow night. Alvays men go past my door down to +valley. I send you vord."</p> + +<p>"What do you suppose is the reason he did not want us +to call for it?" said Rob, as they walked down street.</p> + +<p>"I know," said Nelly.</p> + +<p>"What?" said Rob, sulkily. His pride was a little +touched at Mr. Kleesman's having so evidently preferred +to send the message by some one else rather than by them.</p> + +<p>"Because," said Nelly, "he is so kind he doesn't want +to tell us to our face the mine isn't good."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Nell!" exclaimed Rob, in a tone of distress, "do +you think it's that?"</p> + +<p>"I know it's that," said Nelly, calmly. "It couldn't be +any thing else: you'll see. He doesn't believe that ore's +good for any thing. I know by his face he doesn't. I've +seen him look so at ore before now."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Nell!" cried Rob, "what'll we do if it turns out +not to be good for any thing?"</p> + +<p>"Do!" said Nelly; "why, we shall do just what we did +before. But I'm awful sorry I ever told papa about the old +thing. It's too mean!"</p> + +<p>"We haven't spent any money on it: that's one good +thing," said Rob.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Nelly; "and it's lucky we happened in at Mr. +Kleesman's just when we did: there was some good luck +in that, if there isn't any in the mine."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span></p> + +<p>"But I don't see why you're so sure, Nell," cried Rob: +"Mr. Kleesman said he couldn't tell till he tried it."</p> + +<p>"Well, I <i>am</i> sure," said Nelly; "just as sure's any thing. +I know Mr. Kleesman thinks it isn't good for any thing; +and if he thinks so just by looking at the stone, won't he +think so a great deal more when he has burnt all the bad +stuff away?"</p> + +<p>"Well, anyhow, I shan't give up till he send 'vord,' as +he calls it," said Rob. "I guess it'll be good for a little if it +isn't for much. Everybody says Mr. Scholfield knows all +about mines."</p> + +<p>"You'll see!" was all Nelly replied; and she trudged +along with a very grave and set look on her face. Mr. +March was to stay in town later, to see some farmers who +were coming in from the country: so the children had a +lonely walk home. They stopped only a moment at Ulrica's +and at Lucinda's; and both Ulrica and Lucinda saw that +something was wrong. But Nelly had cautioned Rob to say +nothing about the ore, and she herself said nothing about +it; and so the two faithful hearts that loved them could +only wonder what had happened to cloud the usually bright +little faces.</p> + +<p>When it drew near to sunset, the time at which the +farmers who had been up into Rosita usually returned into +the valley, Rob and Nelly went down the lane to the gate, +to watch for the messenger from Mr. Kleesman. The sun +set, and the twilight deepened into dusk, and no messenger +came. Several farm wagons passed; and, as each one approached, +the children's hearts began to beat quicker, thinking +that the wagon would stop, and the man would hand +out a letter; but wagon after wagon passed,—and no +letter. At last Nelly said:—</p> + +<p>"It is so dark we really must go in, Rob. I don't believe +it's coming to-night."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Perhaps his furnace is broken again, and he couldn't +do it to-day," said Rob.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps so," said Nelly, drearily. "Oh, dear! I wish +the old mine was in Guinea. Weren't we happier without +it, Rob?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, lots!" said Rob; "and we're making a good lot +of money off the butter and eggs and trout. I don't care +about the old mine."</p> + +<p>"I do!" said Nelly: "if it was a good mine—if it were +a good mine, I mean, because then we could all have every +thing we want, and papa wouldn't have to work. But I +know this mine isn't a good one, and I ain't ever going to +look for another 's long as I live. Nor I won't tell of one, +if I find it, either!"</p> + +<p>"Pshaw, Nell! don't be a goose," said Rob. "If this +one isn't good for any thing, it don't prove that the next +one won't be. I'll find all I can, and try 'em one after the +other."</p> + +<p>"Well, you may: I won't!" said Nelly.</p> + +<p>Bedtime came: still no letter. All through the evening, +the children were listening so closely for the sound of +wheels, that they could not attend to any thing else. Even +Mr. March found it rather hard to keep his thoughts from +wandering down the lane in expectation of the message +from Rosita. But it did not come; and the whole family +finally went to bed with their suspense unrelieved.</p> + +<p>The next morning, while they were sitting at breakfast, +and not thinking about the message at all, a man knocked +at the door and handed in a letter. He had brought it from +Rosita the night before, but had forgotten all about it, he +said, till he was a mile past the house; and he thought as +he would be going in again early in the morning, it would +do as well to bring it then.</p> + +<p>"Oh, certainly, certainly!" said Mr. March: "it was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span> +not on any pressing business. Much obliged to you, sir. +Sit down and have some breakfast with us: won't you?"</p> + +<p>The man was an old bachelor,—a Mr. Bangs,—who +lived alone on a farm some six miles north of Mr. March's. +He looked longingly at the nice breakfast, and said to Mrs. +March:—</p> + +<p>"Well, I had what I called a breakfast before I left +home; but your coffee does smell so tempting, I think I'll +take a cup,—since you're so kind."</p> + +<p>Then he drew up a chair and sat down, and began to eat +and drink as if he had just come starved from a shipwreck.</p> + +<p>Mr. March laid the letter down by his plate, and went on +talking with Mr. Bangs as politely as if he had nothing +else to do.</p> + +<p>Rob and Nelly looked at the letter; then at each other; +then at their father and mother: Rob fidgeted on his chair. +Finally, Nelly put down her knife and fork, and said she +did not want any more breakfast. Mrs. March could hardly +keep from laughing to see the children's impatience, though +she felt nearly as impatient herself. At last she said to the +children:—</p> + +<p>"You may be excused, children. Run out into the barn +and see if you can find any eggs!" Rob and Nelly darted +off, only too glad to be free.</p> + +<p>"Did you ever see such a pig!" exclaimed Rob. "He'd +had his breakfast at home. I don't see what made papa +ask him!"</p> + +<p>"He ate as if he were half starved," said Nelly. "I +guess old bachelors don't cook much that's good. Oh! I do +wish he'd hurry."</p> + +<p>Mr. Bangs had no idea of hurrying. It was a long time +since he had tasted good home-made bread and butter and +coffee, and he knew it would be a still longer time before he +tasted them again. He almost wished he had two stomachs,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span> +like a camel, and could fill them both. At last, when he +really could eat no more, and Mrs. March had poured for +him the last drop out of the coffee-pot, he went away. The +children were watching in the barn to see him go. As soon +as he had passed the barn-door, they scampered back to the +house.</p> + +<p>Their father had the open letter under his hand, on the +table. He was looking at their mother, and there were tears +in her eyes. He turned to the children, and said, in a voice +which he tried hard to make cheerful:—</p> + +<p>"Well, Nelly, are you ready for bad news?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes!" interrupted Nelly, "indeed I am, all ready. +I knew it would be bad news! I knew it when we were at +Mr. Kleesman's."</p> + +<p>"Pshaw!" said Rob, and sat down in a chair, and twirled +his hat over and over between his knees: "I don't care! +I'm going fishing." And he jumped up suddenly, and ran +out of the room.</p> + +<p>Mrs. March laughed in spite of herself.</p> + +<p>"That is to hide how badly he feels," she said. "Let's +all go fishing."</p> + +<p>Nelly did not laugh. She stood still by the table, leaning +on it.</p> + +<p>"It's all my fault," she said. "If I hadn't found the +mine, we shouldn't have had all this trouble."</p> + +<p>"Why, child, this isn't trouble," exclaimed her father; +"don't feel so. Of course we're all a little disappointed."</p> + +<p>"A good deal!" interrupted Mrs. March, smiling.</p> + +<p>"Yes, a good deal," he continued; "but we won't be +unhappy long about it. We're no worse off than we were +before. And there's one thing: we are very lucky to have +got out of it so soon,—before we had put any money +into it."</p> + +<p>"What does Mr. Kleesman say?" asked Nelly.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span></p> + +<p>"He says that there is a little silver in the ore, but not +enough to make it pay to work the mine," replied her father; +"and he says that he is more sorry to say this than he has +ever been before in his life to say that ore was not good. I +will read you the letter."</p> + +<p>Then Mr. March read the whole letter aloud to Nelly. +The last sentence was a droll one. Mr. Kleesman said:—</p> + +<p>"I have for your little girl so great love that I do wish +she may never have more sorrow as this."</p> + +<p>"What does he mean, papa?" asked Nelly.</p> + +<p>"Why, he means that he hopes this disappointment about +the mine will be the most serious sorrow you will ever know: +that nothing worse will ever happen to you," replied Mr. +March.</p> + +<p>"Oh," said Nelly, "is that it? I couldn't make it mean +any thing. Well, I hope so too."</p> + +<p>"So do I," said Mrs. March.</p> + +<p>"And I," said Mr. March. "And if nothing worse ever +does happen to us than to think for a few weeks we have +found a fortune, and then to find that we haven't, we shall +be very lucky people."</p> + +<p>So they all tried to comfort each other, and to conceal +how much disappointed they really were; but all the time, +each one of them was very unhappy, and knew perfectly +well that all the rest were too. Mr. March was the unhappiest +of the four. He had made such fine plans for the +future: how he would send Rob and Nelly to school at the +East; build a pretty new house; have a nice, comfortable +carriage; have Billy and Lucinda come back to live with +them; buy all the books he wanted. Poor Mr. March! it +was a very hard thing to have so many air-castles tumble +down all in one minute!</p> + +<p>Mrs. March did not mind it so much, because she had +never from the beginning had very firm faith in the mine.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span> +And for Rob and Nelly it was not nearly so hard, for they +had not made any definite plans of what they would like to +do; and they were so young that each day brought them +new pleasures in their simple life. Still it was a great disappointment +even to them, and I presume would have made +them seem less cheerful and contented for a long time, if +something had not happened the very next day to divert +their minds and give them plenty to think about.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER XIV</h2> + +<h4>AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE</h4> + + +<p>Ever since they had lived in the valley, it had been Nelly's +habit, when she got up in the morning, to go at once to the +eastern window in her room and look out at Pike's Peak. +She loved the mountain now just as much as she had when +she first saw it; and her first thought in the morning always +was:—</p> + +<p>"I wonder if Pike is clear."</p> + +<p>The next morning after Mr. Kleesman's letter came, +Nelly slept late. She had been out all the day before with +Rob, who had fished far down the creek, and led her a long, +hard chase through the grape thickets and wet meadows. +They had caught two basketsful of trout, which were pretty +heavy to lug home; and both Rob and Nelly were so tired +that they went to bed the minute they had eaten supper, and +hardly spoke while they were undressing. When Nelly +waked, she knew by the light in her room that it must be +late. She sprang up and ran to the window. As soon as +she looked out, she exclaimed "Why!" and rubbed her +eyes and looked again. She could not believe what she saw.</p> + +<p>"Rob! Rob!" she called. But Rob was fast asleep, and +did not hear her. She slipped her feet into her slippers, +and ran into his room (he slept in a tiny room opening out +of hers: it was not much bigger than a closet, and only held +a little narrow bed and one chair).</p> + +<p>"Rob! Rob!" she said, shaking him, "get up! Come +look out of the window."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You let me be," said Rob, sleepily: "what is it?"</p> + +<p>"Tents! Rob, tents! Four splendid great tents, right +close to the wheat-barn. Do get up! Who do you suppose +it is?"</p> + +<p>"Tents!" cried Rob, as wide awake in one second as if +the house were on fire, "tents! hurrah! I hope it's those +men with instruments that came last summer. I'm going +right down to see." And Rob bounced out of bed, and +began to toss his clothes on at a furious rate. Nelly also +made great haste; and, in less time than you would have +thought possible, the two children were dressed and out in +the lane, walking toward the tents. When they got there, +they had had their walk for their pains: the tents were all +closed up tight,—not a sign of life about one of them. +Rob and Nelly walked round and round, like two little spies, +trying to find out some sign by which they could tell what +sort of people had come into their territory; but they could +not.</p> + +<p>"I know one thing," said Rob: "they've got splendid +wagons and horses." There were six fine horses grazing +in the field; and there was a nice covered carriage, besides +the heavy white-topped wagon.</p> + +<p>"What do you suppose the other two horses are for?" +said Nelly. "They don't have four to draw the wagon: do +they?"</p> + +<p>"I guess they're horses to ride," said Rob: "one of them +isn't much bigger than a pony. Oh, dear! I think they're +real lazy people not to get up." And Rob and Nelly walked +back to the house quite discontented. When they told their +mother about the tents, she said:—</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, I know it. The party came late last night, +after you had gone to bed. They sent up to the house for +milk; they were very tired; they had come all the way from +Canyon City. There's a little lame boy in the party; and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span> +the motion of the carriage hurts him. He was quite sick +last night, the nurse said."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" said Nelly: "poor little fellow! That's the +reason they weren't up, then. I'm real sorry for him. Can't +we go down there, by and by, and see him?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I think so," said her mother: "this afternoon, +perhaps."</p> + +<p>Rob and Nelly sat down on the barn-doorsteps, and +watched the tents. It seemed a long time before anybody +stirred. At last, a man came out of the tent which was +nearest the barn. He stood still for a minute, looking up +and down the valley. Then he gave a great stretch and +yawned very loud, and walked off towards the field where +the horses were.</p> + +<p>"That's their man," said Rob: "he's going to water the +horses. I mean to go and talk to him."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, don't!" said Nelly: "let's see who comes out +next."</p> + +<p>In a few minutes more, there came out of the next tent +a stout woman, with a white cap on her head. The cap had +thick fluted ruffles all round the front.</p> + +<p>"Oh! what a funny cap!" said Rob. "That must be +the little boy's mother."</p> + +<p>"No," said Nelly, "I don't think so. I think that's the +nurse. Mamma said there was a nurse."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes!" said Rob; "she must be the nurse."</p> + +<p>The nurse stood looking, just as the man had, up and +down the valley. Nobody could see that beautiful view +without wanting to stand still and look at it.</p> + +<p>"She's looking at Pike now," said Nelly. "I wonder if +she ever saw such a mountain before."</p> + +<p>The woman stood a long time without moving: then she +turned and walked slowly back to the tent. As she walked +she kept looking back over her shoulder at the mountains.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Ah! ah!" said Nelly; "see how she looks at the +mountains!"</p> + +<p>"I should think she would," said Rob. "But I wish the +boy'd come out."</p> + +<p>The nurse went into the tent; and presently came out, +bringing a chair all folded up into a flat shape: this she set +down on the ground in the shadow of the tent, and unfolded +it, and kept on unfolding it, till it was about as long +as a lounge.</p> + +<p>"Hullo!" said Rob, "what sort of a chair is that?"</p> + +<p>"For the sick boy, I guess," said Nelly. "It's a kind of +bed."</p> + +<p>Then the nurse brought out pillows and blankets, and +put them in it, and then she brought out two pretty bright +rugs, and spread them down, one in front of the chair and +one at its side. Next she brought out a little table, and set +it close to the chair. On this she spread a white cloth.</p> + +<p>"I guess he's going to have his breakfast on that," said +Nelly.</p> + +<p>Then the woman went into the tent, and did not come +back again. In a few minutes another man came out of the +tent out of which the first man had come. This man did +not look about him at all. He ran to the place where the +stove stood, and began making a fire in a great hurry.</p> + +<p>"Oh, ho!" cried Rob: "two men! I say, Nell, they +must be awfully rich folks. They've got a cook, and a +driver, besides the nurse. I wish that boy'd come out."</p> + +<p>"I guess if he's sick he won't get up early," said Nelly. +"Don't you remember how you used to have to lie in bed +when we were at home, Rob?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, my! I guess I do!" said Rob. "Wasn't it horrid! +I'd as lief die as be like that again. I haven't been sick +once since we came to Colorado: have I, Nell?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Nelly. "Don't you remember you used to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span> +say I ought to be sick half the time: it wasn't fair for me +not to be sick any and for you to be sick all the time?"</p> + +<p>"Did I?" said Rob: "that was real mean of me. I +wouldn't say so now."</p> + +<p>While they were talking, they suddenly saw the nurse +come out again, and call the cook. He went in to the tent +with her, and, in a moment more, they came out again, +bringing in their arms a little boy about Rob's size.</p> + +<p>"Oh, goodness!" cried Rob: "can't he walk? Pshaw! +I hoped he'd go fishing with me! He won't be any fun."</p> + +<p>"Why, Rob March!" exclaimed Nelly: "you're a selfish +thing. How'd you like to be lame like that and not have +anybody sorry for you?"</p> + +<p>"Why, Nell, I am real sorry for him: I mean I expect +I should be if I knew him; but I did hope he'd go round +some with me. I haven't had a boy since we came to +Colorado."</p> + +<p>Nelly looked hurt.</p> + +<p>"I'm sure I go everywhere that you do," she said. "You +don't ever have to be alone."</p> + +<p>"I know it, Nell," replied Rob, meekly: "you're as good +as any girl can be,—lots better than most girls; but a boy's +different. You'd like a girl sometimes yourself: you know +you would."</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't either," retorted Nelly: "I'd rather have you +than any girl in the whole world."</p> + +<p>The little sick boy had sharper eyes than the nurse had. +She had not seen the two children sitting on the barn-doorsteps: +but the boy spied them in a minute, and said to +his nurse:—</p> + +<p>"There are a boy and a girl sitting in that barn-door. +Give me my opera-glass: I want to see what they're like."</p> + +<p>Then Nelly and Rob saw the boy lift up a round thing to +his eyes, and point it at them.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span></p> + +<p>"He's looking at us, Rob," said Nelly, "through that +thing: I saw a gentleman have one in the cars. I shall go +away: I don't want him to look at us."</p> + +<p>"Stop!" said Rob: "he's put it down. He's talking to +his nurse."</p> + +<p>This is what the boy was saying:—</p> + +<p>"Flora, please go across there and ask that boy to come +here: I want to see him. Tell him I'm sick. I want to ask +him if there are any birds here,—if he can't get me a +lark."</p> + +<p>"Now, Master Arthur," the nurse replied, "you just +wait till your mamma gets up, and ask her. Perhaps she +wouldn't want you to have that boy play with you."</p> + +<p>"You go along this minute," said Arthur, beginning to +cry: "if you don't I'll cry. You know the doctor said I +was not to be crossed in any thing. You go along, quick! +Stay! you tell them both to come here."</p> + +<p>The nurse walked away, muttering under her breath:</p> + +<p>"And a fine life ye'll lead them, if ye get them under +your thumb, to be sure! It's a thousand pities you ever +heard that speech of the doctor's, you poor thing."</p> + +<p>"She's coming over here, Rob," said Nelly, as she saw +the woman walking in their direction: "what do you suppose +she wants?"</p> + +<p>"Milk or eggs, I guess," said Rob. "I can get her some +splendid fresh eggs right behind this door. Old Spotty's +got her nest in there now. The weasels got into her old +nest and she won't lay there any more."</p> + +<p>When the nurse reached the door, she said very politely +to the children:—</p> + +<p>"Good morning, children. Do you live here?"</p> + +<p>"No, ma'am," said Rob, gravely.</p> + +<p>Nelly looked at him indignantly.</p> + +<p>"Why, Rob!" she began. But Rob went on:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span>—</p> + +<p>"Our oxen and cows and hens live here: we live in the +house over yonder."</p> + +<p>Nelly laughed out, and so did the nurse.</p> + +<p>"You have a droll tongue in your head, my boy," she +said. "I came to ask you if you wouldn't come over to the +tent there and see Master Arthur. He's in the chair there: +see him? He's lame: he can't walk."</p> + +<p>"What's the matter with him?" asked Nelly. "Was +he always lame?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no!" said the nurse: "he got a fall when he was +about six years old, and he's been lame ever since: he's +twelve now. But I must go right back: he don't like to be +alone a minute. Will you come across?"</p> + +<p>Rob looked at Nelly.</p> + +<p>"Mamma said we might go this afternoon," he said: +"do you think she'd care if we went now?"</p> + +<p>"We'd better go and ask her," answered Nelly. "You +tell the little boy we've gone to ask our mother if we may +come," she said to the nurse, and ran off with Rob to the +house as fast as feet could go.</p> + +<p>The nurse looked after them, and sighed.</p> + +<p>"Well, those are well-brought-up children, whosever they +are, to be found out in this wilderness. Oh, but I'd like to +see Master Arthur run like that."</p> + +<p>Flora had been little Arthur's nurse ever since he was a +baby; and, though she was often out of patience with him, +she loved him dearly. When she went back and told him +what the children said, he muttered fretfully:—</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear! they needn't have gone to ask. Can't they +go two steps without getting leave? I should think they +were babies. They looked as old as I am."</p> + +<p>"They're older, Master Arthur," replied Flora. "I think +they are as much as thirteen: the girl is, at any rate."</p> + +<p>"Is the boy nice?" asked Arthur.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span></p> + +<p>Flora laughed.</p> + +<p>"He's funny," she replied. And then she told Arthur +what Rob had said when she asked him if he and his sister +lived there.</p> + +<p>Arthur smiled faintly: he hardly ever laughed. His back +ached all the time, so that he could very seldom forget it; +and this constant pain made him very nervous and irritable.</p> + +<p>"You go up to the house and ask their mother to let them +come," he said.</p> + +<p>"Well, dear," Flora replied, "I will, if they don't come +in a few minutes. But I'm sure they'll come, for they said +their mother had told them they might come this afternoon; +and I'm sure she'll let them come now instead."</p> + +<p>"They can come in the afternoon too," said Arthur. "I +want them all the time."</p> + +<p>"Well, well: I dare say they'll like to stay with you, and +read your books, and see your things, very much," said +Flora.</p> + +<p>"I'll show them my microscope," said Arthur: "that's +the only thing I've got that's good for any thing. The +books are no good."</p> + +<p>Just now the cook came up, bringing Arthur's breakfast +on a tray. It looked very nice: milk-toast, and baked +apples, and poached eggs, and a cup of nice cocoa. It was +wonderful what good things Ralph used to cook, in that +little bit of a camp stove, out of doors. Ralph had lived in +the family as long as Flora, and loved poor Arthur just as +well as she did. It was into the area in front of the basement +that Arthur had fallen when he got his terrible hurt; +and Ralph had picked him up and carried him upstairs in +his arms, thinking all the way that he was dead. Ralph +often said that he'd never forget that time,—not if he +should live to be a thousand years old! He often told the +story to people they met on their journeys. Everybody<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span> +took an interest in poor Arthur, and wanted to know how +he came to be so lame; but nobody liked to ask his father +or mother: so they would ask Flora or Ralph. Ralph was +an Englishman, and he had a very queer pronunciation of +all words beginning with <i>h</i>. He dropped the <i>h</i>'s off such +words, and he put them on to other words; which made his +sentences sound very queer indeed.</p> + +<p>"It was just about height o'clock," he would say, "an' +I'd just in my 'and the 'ot water for the master's shaving; +an' Thomas 'ee was a takin' hof it out o' my 'and, when we +'ears such a screech, such a screech, and the missus she +come a flyin' hover the stairs,—I'm blessed hif 'er feet so +much as lighted hon 'em,—an' she screeching screechin', +an' 'ollerin'; an' the same minute I 'ears a noise to the front +o' the 'ouse, an' a perliceman a knockin' at the airy door, +an' the missus she got to't fust; an' if it wan't a meracle +wat was it, for 'er to 'ave come down two flights o' 'igh +stairs in less time than I could 'urry across the 'all? An' I +takes Master Harthur out o' the perliceman's 'ands; an' 'is +little 'ead a 'anging down 's if 't 'a' been snapped off. Oh! +if it seemed one minute afore I got 'im hup to the nursery +it seemed a 'undred years; an' the missus she was never +'erself again,—not till she died. She allers said as 'ow +she'd killed 'im 'erself. You see 'ee was all alone with 'er +in 'er bedroom, an' she never noticed that 'ee 'ad gone to +the window. She was never 'erself again,—never: she'd +sit an' look at 'im, an' look at 'im, an' the tears'd run down +'er face faster'n rain. But she couldn't 'old a candle to +this missus, in no respects: not to my way o' thinkin'. It's +a 'ard thing to say of 'er, bein' she's dead; but it's my +'onest opinion that she's better in 'eaven than hearth, an' +all parties better suited."</p> + +<p>This was Ralph's story of the accident, and he told it +wherever they went. Every one was much surprised to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</a></span> +hear that Mrs. Cook was not Arthur's own mother; for no +own mother could have shown more patience and love than +she did. She had never left Arthur for a whole day or a +whole night since she became his mother; and it seemed as +if she really thought of little else except how to invent some +new thing to amuse him, and keep him from remembering +his pain.</p> + +<p>Just as Arthur had begun to eat his breakfast, he looked +up and saw Rob and Nelly coming out of the door of the +house. He pushed away his plate, and cried:—</p> + +<p>"Take it away! take it away! I won't eat another mouthful. +That boy and girl are coming. Take it away!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Master Arthur," said Flora: "indeed you must +eat some more. You'll never get well if you don't eat."</p> + +<p>"I won't! I won't! I tell you take it away," screamed +Arthur. "I am not hungry. I hate it!"</p> + +<p>Poor Arthur never was really hungry.</p> + +<p>"Your mamma will be very unhappy when she comes +out if you have not eaten any thing," said Flora.</p> + +<p>Arthur's face fell.</p> + +<p>"Well, give me the cocoa, then, quick!" he said: "I'll +drink that, just to please mamma: that's all. She don't +make me eat when I don't want to."</p> + +<p>At that moment Mrs. Cook came out of her tent, and +hurried to Arthur's chair.</p> + +<p>"My darling," she said, "mamma was a lazy mamma, +wasn't she, this morning? Have you had a nice breakfast? +Papa will be out in a minute."</p> + +<p>"Mamma! mamma!" cried Arthur, "see that boy and +girl, the other side of the fence: they're coming over to see +me. I sent Flora after them. I wish they'd hurry. Don't +they walk slow?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Cook looked inquiringly at Flora, who explained +that Master Arthur had spied the children sitting in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</a></span> +barn-door, and that nothing would do but she must go over +and ask them to come and see him.</p> + +<p>"They seem to be most uncommon nice-spoken children +for these parts, ma'am," said Flora; "and the little girl she +wouldn't come, nor let her brother come, till she'd gone +into the house and asked leave of their mother."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Cook was gazing very earnestly at the children, as +they walked slowly towards the tent. In a moment more +she sprang to her feet, and took two or three steps forward, +and exclaimed, "Why, it is! it is my little Nelly!" and, to +Arthur's great astonishment, he saw his mother run very +fast to meet the children, and throw her arms round the +little girl's neck, and kiss her over and over again.</p> + +<p>Nelly was so astonished and bewildered she did not know +what to do. She could not see the face of the lady who was +kissing her for she held her so tight she could not look up; +and, when she did look up, she did not at first know who +the lady was.</p> + +<p>"Why, Nelly, Nelly!" she cried; "have you forgotten +me? Don't you remember I came on in the same car with +you? Why! I've been looking for you and asking for you +all over Colorado."</p> + +<p>Then Nelly remembered; but still she looked bewildered.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes! Mrs. Williams. I remember you very, very +well," she said; "but you don't look a bit as you used to."</p> + +<p>"Come here! come here!" shouted Arthur; "come right +here, all of you! Mamma, who is this girl, and what makes +you kiss her?"</p> + +<p>Arthur had been so long used to being the only child, and +having all his mother's affection showered upon him, that he +really felt uncomfortable to see her kiss another child.</p> + +<p>"Why, Arthur! Arthur!" exclaimed his mother, leading +Nelly and Rob towards him; "don't speak so. These are +old friends of mamma's that she knew before she ever saw<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</a></span> +you. Don't you recollect my telling you about the little boy +in the cars, that threw away the onions, and the little girl +that had the nice wax doll all broken in the crowd? These +are those very same children; and isn't it wonderful that we +should have found them here? I am very glad to see them: +Nelly, Rob, this is my little boy, Arthur, and he will be more +glad to know you than you can possibly imagine; for he +can't run about as you do. He has to lie in this chair all +day."</p> + +<p>While she was speaking, Arthur had been looking very +steadily at Rob. He did not take much notice of Nelly. As +soon as his mother stopped speaking, Arthur said to Rob:—</p> + +<p>"How do you do? Mamma told me all about your +throwing away the man's onions ever so long ago, and I used +to make her tell me over and over and over again, till she +said it was almost as bad as having onions in the house. +Didn't you have fun when you did it?" and Arthur laughed +harder than he had been seen to laugh for a long time.</p> + +<p>"Why, no!" said Rob; "I don't think it was much fun. +I don't remember much about it now; but I know I felt +awfully mean: you see I felt like a thief when the man began +to look for his onions."</p> + +<p>Nelly was standing still, close to her new-found friend. +She was thoroughly bewildered; she looked from Mrs. Williams +to Arthur, and from Arthur to Mrs. Williams, and did +not know what to make of it all: and no wonder. When +Mrs. Williams bade Nelly good-by in Denver three years before, +she was a thin, pale lady, dressed in the deepest black, +and with a face so sad it made you feel like crying to look at +her. She wore a widow's cap close around her face, and a +long, black veil; and she was all alone with her nurse; and +she had no little boy. Now she was a stout, rosy-faced lady; +and she wore a bright, dark-blue cloth gown, looped up over +a scarlet petticoat; and on her head she wore a broad-brimmed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</a></span> +straw hat with scarlet poppies and blue bachelor's +buttons round the crown. At last Nelly could not contain +her perplexity any longer.</p> + +<p>"Oh! Mrs. Williams," she exclaimed; "what does make +you so pretty now?"</p> + +<p>"That isn't my mamma's name," cried Arthur; "her +name is Mrs. Cook. Wasn't she pretty when you saw her +in the cars? She's always pretty now."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Williams laughed very hard, and told Nelly she did +not wonder that she was surprised to see her look so differently.</p> + +<p>"I often think, when I look in the glass now," she said, +"that I shouldn't know my own self, if I hadn't seen myself +since three years ago."</p> + +<p>Then she led Nelly to one side, and explained to her that +she had met Arthur and his papa up at Idaho Springs, where +she had gone immediately after leaving Nelly in Denver. +Mr. Cook had taken Arthur there, to see if the water in the +Idaho Springs would not cure his lameness. They had all +lived in the same hotel at Idaho all winter, and in the spring +Mrs. Williams had been married to Mr. Cook, and had thus +become Arthur's mother. Mr. Cook's home was in New +York; but they had come to Colorado every summer for +Arthur's sake. He always was much better in Colorado. +While they were talking, Mr. Cook came out of his tent; and +surprised enough he looked to see his wife sitting on the +ground with a little stranger girl in her lap, and Arthur in +eager conversation with a boy he had never seen before. He +stood still on the threshold of the tent for a moment, looking +in astonishment at the scene.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Edward! Edward!" exclaimed Mrs. Cook, "this is +my little friend! Think of our having found her at last, +down in this valley!"</p> + +<p>"Is it possible!" said Mr. Cook. "Why, I am as glad to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</a></span> +see you, my little girl, as if I were your own uncle. I didn't +know but I should have to go journeying all about the world, +like my famous <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'ancester'">ancestor</ins>, Captain Cook, to find you; for my +wife has never given up talking about you since I have +known her."</p> + +<p>Mr. Cook was so tall and so big Nelly felt half afraid of +him. He was as tall as Long Billy, and twice as big: he had +a long, thick beard, of a beautiful brown color, and his eyes +were as blue as the sky. Nelly thought he looked like one of +the pictures, in a picture-book Rob had, of "Three Giant +Kings from the North who came Over the Sea." But when +he smiled you did not feel afraid of him; and his voice was +so good and true and kind that everybody trusted him and +liked him as soon as he spoke.</p> + +<p>"Was Captain Cook really an ancestor of yours?" asked +Nelly, eagerly.</p> + +<p>"Oh!" cried Rob, bounding away from Arthur, and +looking up with reverence into this tall man's face, "are +you a relation of Captain Cook? Have you got any of his +things? Did you know him? Did he ever tell you about his +voyage? We've got the book about them: I know everywhere +he went."</p> + +<p>Mr. Cook lifted Rob up in his arms, and tossed him over +his shoulders, and whirled round with him, and set him +down on the ground again, before he answered. This was +a thing Mr. Cook loved to do to boys of Rob's size. Boys +of that age are not used to being picked up and tossed like +babies; but Mr. Cook was so strong he could toss a big boy +as easily as you or I could a little baby.</p> + +<p>"No, sir, I am not a relative of Captain Cook's, so far +as I know, nor of any other Cook, except of all good cooks: +I am a first cousin and great friend and lover of all good +cooks," shouted this jolly, tall man, whose very presence<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</a></span> +seemed like sunshine. "Ralph, you cook of cooks and for +all the Cooks, is our breakfast ready?"</p> + +<p>Ralph chuckled with inward laughter as he tried to answer +with a quiet propriety. Long as he had lived with Mr. Cook, +he had never grown accustomed to his droll ways.</p> + +<p>Rob and Nelly looked on with amazement. This was a +sort of man they had never seen.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I wish papa was like this," thought Rob: in the +next second he was ashamed and sorry for the thought. +But from that moment he had a loving admiration for Mr. +Cook, which was about as strong as his love for his own +father.</p> + +<p>As soon as Mr. and Mrs. Cook had eaten their breakfast, +they walked up to the house with Nelly. Rob stayed behind +with Arthur, entirely absorbed in the microscope. Nelly's +feet seemed hardly to touch the ground: she was so excited +in the thought of taking Mrs. Cook to see her mother. She +utterly forgot all the changes which the three years had +brought to them: she forgot how poor they were, and that +her mother was at that moment hard at work churning butter. +She forgot every thing except that she had found her +old friend, and was about to give her mother a great surprise. +She opened the door into the sitting-room, and, crying, +"Mamma! mamma! who do you think is here?" she +ran on into the kitchen, turning back to Mr. and Mrs. Cook +and crying, "Come out here! Here she is!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. March looked up from her churning, much astonished +at the interruption, and still more astonished to see +two strangers standing in her kitchen doorway, and evidently +on such intimate terms with Nelly. Mrs. March had +on a stout tow-cloth apron which reached from her neck to +her ankles; this was splashed all over with cream. On her +head she had a white handkerchief, bound tight like a turban. +Altogether she looked as unlike the Mrs. March whom<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</a></span> +Mrs. Cook had seen in the cars as Mrs. Cook looked unlike +the Mrs. Williams. But Mrs. Cook's smile was one nobody +ever forgot. As soon as she smiled, Mrs. March exclaimed:—</p> + +<p>"Why, Mrs. Williams! how glad I am to see you again. +Pray excuse me a minute, till I can take myself out of this +buttery apron: walk back into the sitting-room."</p> + +<p>"No, no!" laughed Mr. Cook, "I know a great deal better +than that! I was brought up on a farm. You can't leave +that butter! Here! give me the apron, and let me churn it: +it's twenty-five years since I've churned; but I believe I can +do it." And, without giving Mrs. March time to object, he +fairly took the apron away from her, and tied it around his +own neck, and began to churn furiously.</p> + +<p>"Now you two go in and sit down," he said, "and leave +this little girl and me to attend to this butter. You'll see +how soon I'll 'bring' it!" And indeed he did. His powerful +arms worked as if they were driven by steam; and in less +than a quarter of an hour the butter was firm and hard, and +Nelly and Mr. Cook had become good friends. He liked +the quiet, grave little girl very much; but, after all, his +heart warmed most to Rob, and the greater part of his talk +with Nelly was about her brother.</p> + +<p>In the meantime, Mrs. Cook and Mrs. March were having +a full talk about all that had happened. There was +something about Mrs. Cook which made people tell her all +their affairs. She never asked questions or pried in any +way, but she was brimful of sympathy and kindly intent; +and to such persons everybody goes for comfort and advice. +Mrs. March had always remembered her with affectionate +gratitude for her goodness to Nelly, and she was glad of +the opportunity, even three years late, to thank her for that +beautiful wax doll.</p> + +<p>"It is as good as new now," she said. "Nelly keeps it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</a></span> +rolled in tissue paper, in the box. She does not play with +dolls any more, but it is still her chief treasure."</p> + +<p>"Not play with dolls!" exclaimed Mrs. Cook: "why, +she is not fifteen."</p> + +<p>"I know it," replied Mrs. March, "but our hardworking +life here has made both the children old for their years: +especially Nelly. She was naturally a thoughtful, care-taking +child. Rob is of a more mirthful, adventurous temperament. +He has taken the jolly side of the life here; but +Nelly has grown almost too sober and wise. She is a +blessed child."</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed, she is," replied Mrs. Cook; "and she was +so when I first knew her. I never could forget her earnest +face. I want you to let her and Rob too be with us just as +much as possible while we are here. We shall stay a month: +perhaps six weeks, if it does not grow too cold. We find it +is much better for Arthur to stay quietly in one place than +it is to move about. He gains much more. Travelling tires +him dreadfully."</p> + +<p>"I shall be more than glad to have the children with you +as much as possible," replied Mrs. March; "but that will not +be so much as I could wish: for we are all working very +hard now; and two days each week the children go to Rosita, +to sell eggs and butter. That is the greater part of our income +this summer."</p> + +<p>Mrs. March said this in a cheerful tone, and as if it were +nothing worth dwelling upon, and Mrs. Cook did not express +any surprise; but in her heart she was much grieved +and shocked to find that the Marches were so poor, and as +soon as she was alone with her husband she told him of it +with tears in her eyes.</p> + +<p>"Only think, Edward," she said, "of those sweet children +going about selling eggs and butter in the town."</p> + +<p>Mr. Cook was a very rich man; but his father and his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[Pg 309]</a></span> +grandfather had been farmers; and in Mr. Cook's early +years he had driven the market-wagon into town many a +time and sold potatoes and corn in the market. It did not, +therefore, seem so dreadful to him as it did to his wife that +Rob and Nelly should carry about eggs and butter to sell in +Rosita. Still, he was sorry to hear it, and exclaimed:—</p> + +<p>"Do they really? The plucky little toads! That's too +bad—for the girl: it won't hurt the boy any!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Edward!" said Mrs. Cook, "you wouldn't like to +have Arthur do it."</p> + +<p>"No, I wouldn't like to have him do it," replied Mr. +Cook: "most certainly I wouldn't like to have him; but that +wouldn't prove that it mightn't be better for him in the end +if he had to. But fate has taken all such questions as that +out of our hands, so far as poor Arthur is concerned." And +Mr. Cook sighed heavily. Arthur's condition was a terrible +grief to his father. All the more because he was so well and +strong himself, Mr. Cook had a dread of physical pain or +weakness. Many times a day he looked at his helpless son, +and said in his inmost heart:—</p> + +<p>"Rather than be like that, I would die any death that +could be invented."</p> + +<p>It was a mercy that Arthur did not inherit his father's +temperament. He was much more like his mother: so long +as he could be amused, and did not suffer severe pain, he did +not so much mind having to lie still. When Rob said to him, +one day:—</p> + +<p>"Oh, Arthur, doesn't it tire you horribly to stay in that +chair?" Arthur answered:—</p> + +<p>"Why, no: it's the easiest chair you ever sat in. You +just try it some day. I had one before this that did tire me, +though: it was a horrid chair. It wasn't made right; but +this is a jolly chair. It's better than the bed."</p> + +<p>Rob, who had felt guilty the moment he had asked the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</a></span> +question, thinking it was not kind, was much relieved at this +answer, and thought to himself:—</p> + +<p>"Well, that's lucky. He didn't mind my asking him one +bit. I guess it's because he's been sick so long he doesn't +remember how it felt to run about."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[Pg 311]</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER XV</h2> + +<h4>CHANGES IN PROSPECT</h4> + + +<p>I could not tell you one-half of the pleasant things that +happened in the course of the next month to Rob and Nelly. +They had such good times that they hardly ever thought of +their disappointment about the mine. And even Mr. and +Mrs. March thought less and less about it every day, they +were so much interested in talking with Mr. and Mrs. Cook. +Mr. March and Mr. Cook became good friends very +soon. Mr. Cook would often work all day long in the fields +with Mr. March. He said it made him feel as if he were a +boy again, on his father's farm. The days that Rob and +Nelly went to Rosita were very long days to Arthur. He +was so lonely that Mrs. Cook proposed to her husband one +day that they should let Thomas, the driver, take the children +up town in the carriage, and bring them right back again.</p> + +<p>"They need not be gone more than two hours in all," she +said. "It is that tiresome walk that takes so long."</p> + +<p>But Mr. Cook was too wise to do this.</p> + +<p>"That would not be any true kindness to the children," he +said. "It is much better that they should keep on with the +regular routine of their life, just as they did before. If +they were to have the carriage to take them up to town for a +month, it would only make the walk seem very long and +hard to them after we are gone. We will give them all the +pleasure we can, without altering their way of living."</p> + +<p>"The mere fact of our being here alters their whole life," +said Mrs. Cook. "They have now constant companionship,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[Pg 312]</a></span> +and a variety of amusements and interests, in Arthur's toys +and books, which are all new to them. Before we came, they +had solitude, absolutely no amusements, and no occupation +except hard work. Nelly told me the other day that she +had read every book in their house, twice over."</p> + +<p>"There are not very many books," said Mr. Cook: "I +don't know how March comes to have so few."</p> + +<p>"Oh, they had to sell ever so many last summer: Mrs. +March told me so," replied Mrs. Cook.</p> + +<p>"By Jove! did they?" exclaimed Mr. Cook. "That was +too bad. I wonder if March would take it amiss if I sent +him out a box of books this autumn."</p> + +<p>"I don't know," Mrs. Cook said thoughtfully. "They +haven't a particle of false pride, about their work, or selling +things, or any thing of that kind; but I doubt their liking +presents. They are very independent."</p> + +<p>The weeks slipped by as if they weren't more than three +days long. Rob and Nelly got up before daylight every +morning, so as to hurry through their work and go down +to the tents,—down to "Arthur's," they always called it, as +if it were a house. Sometimes they stayed all day, till it +was time for Rob to go for the cows. They read, or they +played dominoes or chequers or backgammon; or they put +dissected maps together; or they looked at all sorts of things +under the microscope; or they painted flowers: this was the +nicest thing of all. Mrs. Cook drew and painted beautifully. +She had taught Arthur, so that he could paint a little simple +flower really very well; and he had a beautiful paint-box, full +of real good paints, such as artists use,—not such as are put +in toy-boxes for children. This was the thing Nelly +enjoyed best. Then Ralph, the cook, used to go off gunning +every day, and he brought home beautiful birds, and +Arthur and Rob used to nail the wings on boards to dry. +Arthur had a little table that fitted across his chair, and on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[Pg 313]</a></span> +this table he could pound pretty hard; and he made a good +many pretty things out of wood. It seemed to Rob that +there wasn't any thing in the whole world which Flora could +not bring out of the two big black boxes which stood in her +tent, and held Arthur's things. As for books, he had fifty: +every one of Mayne Reid's. When Rob saw those he was +delighted.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Arthur! Arthur! ain't they splendid! I've had +'The Cliff Climbers.'"</p> + +<p>"I don't think so," said Arthur. "They're all about +hunting and fighting, and such things."</p> + +<p>"Oh, my!" said Rob, "don't you like that? That's just +what I like. I'll read some of 'em to you. I bet you'd like +them." And when Rob read them to him, Arthur really did +like them.</p> + +<p>He could not help sharing Rob's enthusiasm; but when +Rob exclaimed:—"Oh, Arthur, don't you wish you could +go to the Himalayas?" poor Arthur only shuddered, and +said:—</p> + +<p>"No, indeed! it shakes you so awfully to go in the cars."</p> + +<p>Rob did not ask him again; but he told Nelly at night what +Arthur had said, and he added:—</p> + +<p>"Say, Nell, if I should ever get to be like Arthur, I'd +take poison."</p> + +<p>"Why, Rob!" cried Nelly, "that's awfully wicked! You +wouldn't ever dare to!" And Nelly turned pale with fright.</p> + +<p>"I expect it is," said Rob; "but I reckon I'd do it! Why, +Nell, I'd just have to!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Cook sat with the children hours at a time, and +listened to their talk and play. She and her husband took a +drive or a ride every afternoon; but the rest of the time she +did not leave Arthur. The more she saw the influence of +Rob and Nelly upon him, the more grateful she felt for the +strange chance which had brought them together. Arthur<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[Pg 314]</a></span> +was really growing better. He had more color, more appetite, +and very seldom complained of pain. He had something +to think of beside himself; and he was happy,—the +two best medicines in all the world: they will cure more +diseases than people dream.</p> + +<p>One day, Flora said to Mrs. Cook:—</p> + +<p>"I suppose, ma'am, ye'll be going soon. There was +quite a frost in the north o' the valley last night, Thomas +was telling me. They say there'll be snow here before long."</p> + +<p>"Yes, Flora, I suppose we will have to go very soon: +week after next, Mr. Cook thinks," replied Mrs. Cook.</p> + +<p>Arthur was lying back in his chair, with his eyes shut. +They thought he was asleep; but at the sound of these words +he opened his eyes, and cried out:—</p> + +<p>"I won't go away, mamma! I won't go! You can't +make me. I'm not going away ever. I'm going to stay +here."</p> + +<p>"Why, Arthur dear!" said his mother, "you wouldn't +like to stay here without papa and without me; and you +know papa must go home."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I would!" cried Arthur: "I've been thinking +about it for ever so long. Flora can stay: she can dress +and undress me; and I can live in Mrs. March's house, and +sleep in Rob's bed. I asked Nelly, and she said I could. +Rob can sleep on the lounge. I shan't go home. I hate +New York; and if you take me back there I'll get sicker and +sicker, and die; and I don't care if I do, if I can't stay +here!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Cook was grieved and shocked. She had often +thought to herself that there was danger that Rob and Nelly +would be discontented and lonely when Arthur went away; +but strangely enough she had never thought of any such +danger for Arthur. She had often wished she could take +Nelly home with her to live; but she had dismissed it from<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[Pg 315]</a></span> +her mind as an impossible thing. Now she began to think +of it again. She sat a long time in silence, turning it over +and over.</p> + +<p>"Why don't you speak, mamma?" asked Arthur: "are +you angry with me?"</p> + +<p>"No, dear," replied Mrs. Cook: "I am not angry: only +very, very sorry; and I am trying to think what we can do +to make you happy when we go away. I shall be very sorry +if all our pleasant time here only makes you unhappier after +you go home. You were very contented before we came +here."</p> + +<p>"I don't think I was very, mamma," said Arthur, sadly. +"I always wanted a boy or a girl; and none of the boys and +girls in New York cared any thing about me,—only my +things; but Nelly is just like my own sister,—at least I +guess that's the way sisters are,—and Rob is just like my +brother. Mamma, I can't go away! I don't see why you +can't leave me. You and papa would come back in the +spring. Oh, mamma, let me! let me!" And poor Arthur +began to cry.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Cook put her arms around him, and laid her face +down close to his.</p> + +<p>"My darling child!" she said, "haven't papa and I done +every thing we possibly could to make you happy always?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," sobbed Arthur; "and that's why I think you +might leave me here."</p> + +<p>"Dear boy, you don't seem to think," said his mother, +"how lonely papa and I would be without you."</p> + +<p>"Oh, mamma, would you, really? How could you be? +I'm only a bother: I can't go round with you or any thing. +I think you'd have a great deal better time without me. +Perhaps I'd get so I could walk if I stayed here all winter. +You know one doctor said I ought to stay a whole year."</p> + +<p>"Arthur, dear," said Mrs. Cook, earnestly, "do not talk<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[Pg 316]</a></span> +any more about this now. Promise mamma that you will +try not to think about it either; and I promise you I will +talk to papa and see what he thinks can be done. All we +want in this world is to make you happy, and do what is +best for you."</p> + +<p>"Will you ask him to let me stay?" cried Arthur.</p> + +<p>"I will tell him how you feel about being separated from +Nelly and Rob," replied his mother; "and I think we can +arrange in some way."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Cook had already made up her mind what she would +do. She would ask Mrs. March to let Nelly go back with +them to New York for the winter. She knew that Mr. Cook +would be willing; and she believed that Mrs. March might +be persuaded to consent, on account of the advantage it +would be to Nelly. But she would not mention this plan to +Arthur now, because he would only be all the more disappointed +if it failed. Arthur leaned his head back in his +chair, and shut his eyes again.</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear!" he said, "crying does always make my head +ache so!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, dear," said his mother, "that is reason enough, if +there were no other, why you should try hard to behave like +a man always, and never let any little thing upset you +enough to make you cry."</p> + +<p>"I know it," said Arthur, forlornly; "but you cry before +you think you're going to; and then you can't stop."</p> + +<p>As soon as Mrs. Cook was alone with her husband, she +told him what Arthur had said.</p> + +<p>"I am not at all surprised," he replied: "I have been +expecting it."</p> + +<p>"Of course it would never do to leave the child here," +said Mrs. Cook.</p> + +<p>"Of course not," said Mr. Cook. "But I'll tell you what<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[Pg 317]</a></span> +we might do: take Rob and Nelly home with us for the +winter. I think their father and mother would let them go."</p> + +<p>"Rob too?" said Mrs. Cook.</p> + +<p>"Rob too!" echoed Mr. Cook. "Why, if I could have +but one Rob would be the one; but if we take one we've got +to take both: you might as well propose to separate the +Siamese twins."</p> + +<p>"I was thinking of proposing to take Nelly," said Mrs. +Cook. "I don't see how Mrs. March could spare them +both."</p> + +<p>"She could easier let them both go than have one left +behind to pine. I don't know but it would kill them to be +apart from each other. I don't see, though, how you can +prefer Nelly to Rob?"</p> + +<p>"And I don't see how you can prefer Rob to Nelly," +answered Mrs. Cook: "as a companion for Arthur, Nelly +is twice as good as Rob."</p> + +<p>"Does Arthur like her better?" asked Mr. Cook.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I think he does," replied Mrs. Cook: "he seems +to lean on her. He is very fond of Rob, too. He said to-day +that they were just like his sister and brother."</p> + +<p>"Let us go down to-night and ask Mr. and Mrs. March +about it," said Mr. Cook. "The sooner it is settled the +better. If Arthur has got this crotchet in his head about +staying, he won't be easy a minute."</p> + +<p>After tea, Mr. and Mrs. Cook walked down to the house, +and proposed the plan. At first, Mr. March said no, most +decidedly. But Mrs. March begged him to consider the +thing, and not decide too hastily.</p> + +<p>"Think what a splendid thing it would be for the children," +she said.</p> + +<p>"But think what a desolate winter you would have here +without them," said Mr. March.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, not desolate!" said Mrs. March: "not desolate<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[Pg 318]</a></span> +with you here. Nelly would write every week. The winter +would soon pass away. And, Robert, they may never have +another such opportunity in their lives. I think it would +be wrong for us to refuse it for them."</p> + +<p>"Why not consult them?" said Mr. Cook.</p> + +<p>"I know beforehand what they would say," answered +Mr. March. "Nelly would say stay here, and Rob would +say go. No: we must decide the question ourselves; and +Mrs. March is right: we ought not to decide too hastily. +We will let you know in the morning."</p> + +<p>"You understand, I hope," said Mrs. Cook, "that it is +a very great favor, for the sake of our helpless boy, that +we ask it. It is really asking you to give up your two +children for a time, just to make our one happy."</p> + +<p>"I understand that," replied Mr. March; "but you must +know that it is also a very great obligation under which we +lay ourselves to you. I feel it to be such, and I confess I +shrink from it: I can never repay it."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense!" said Mr. Cook. "The obligation is all +on our side; and if you had ever had a poor helpless child +like Arthur, you could realize it. Why, March, I'd give +all my fortune this moment, and begin at the bottom and +make it all over again, if I could see Arthur well and strong +as your Rob." And the tears filled Mr. Cook's eyes, as he +shook hands with Mrs. March, and bade her good-night.</p> + +<p>Mr. and Mrs. March talked nearly all night before they +could come to a decision about this matter. It was a terrible +thing to them to look forward to a whole winter without +the children. But Mrs. March continually said:—</p> + +<p>"Robert, suppose we never have another chance to give +either of them such an opportunity of pleasure and improvement +as this. How shall we feel when we look back? We +should never forgive ourselves."</p> + +<p>So it was decided that the children should go.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[Pg 319]</a></span></p> + +<p>In the morning Mrs. March said to Nelly:—</p> + +<p>"You'll miss Arthur when he goes: won't you?"</p> + +<p>Nelly hesitated, and finally said:—</p> + +<p>"Arthur says he won't go!"</p> + +<p>"Won't go!" exclaimed Mrs. March: "what does he +mean?"</p> + +<p>"He is going to ask his father to ask you to let him stay +here with us," replied Nelly. "I thought he might sleep +in Rob's bed. Rob says he'd just as soon sleep on the +lounge; and I thought you'd be willing. He's such a poor +dear! I could take all the care of him."</p> + +<p>"Would you really like to have him?" said Mrs. March.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, indeed, mamma, ever so much! I love him as +well as I do Rob,—almost: not quite, I guess, because he +isn't my own brother; but it is so hard for him to be sick, +that makes me love him more."</p> + +<p>"Mr. and Mrs. Cook came down here last night to ask +us to let you and Rob go back to New York with them for +the winter," said Mrs. March, very quietly, watching Nelly's +face as she spoke.</p> + +<p>It turned scarlet in one second, and the voice was almost +a shriek in which Nelly cried out:—</p> + +<p>"Oh, mamma! how perfectly splendid! Can we go?"</p> + +<p>Then in the very next second she said:—</p> + +<p>"But you couldn't spare us: could you? You couldn't +stay here all alone." And her face fell.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I think we could spare you; and we have said you +might go," said Mrs. March, smiling.</p> + +<p>Nelly's arms were round her mother's neck in one +moment, and she was kissing her and half laughing and +half crying.</p> + +<p>"Oh, mamma! mamma!" she said, "I can't tell whether +I am glad or sorry. I don't want to go away from you; +but oh! if you only could hear Arthur tell of all the beautiful<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[Pg 320]</a></span> +things in New York! Oh! I don't know whether I am +sorry or glad!"</p> + +<p>But Mrs. March knew very well that she was glad, and +this made it much easier for her to bear the thought of the +separation.</p> + +<p>If Nelly, the quiet Nelly, were as glad and excited as this, +how do you suppose the adventurous Rob felt, when he +heard the news? The house wouldn't hold him. He had +to run out and turn summersaults on the grass. Then he +raced off down to the tents, and told Flora and Ralph and +Thomas. It was early in the morning, and Arthur was not +up. All the servants were glad. They all liked Rob and +Nelly, and they all saw how much better Arthur had grown +since he had had children to play with.</p> + +<p>"Ah, Master Rob," said Thomas, "just wait till I drive +ye out in the Park; that's a place worth looking at,—all +beautiful green grass, and lakes, and roads as smooth and +hard as a beach, and groves of trees,—not like this bare +wilderness, I can tell ye."</p> + +<p>"Are there mountains there, Thomas?" asked Rob.</p> + +<p>"Mountains! no! The Lord be praised: never a mountain!" +exclaimed Ralph; "and if ever I'm thankful for +anything, it is to get out of sight of the ugly sides of 'em!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Ralph!" was all Rob could say at hearing such an +opinion of mountains.</p> + +<p>When Flora and Thomas brought Arthur out of the tent, +Rob ran towards them.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Arthur—" he began.</p> + +<p>"I know all about it," said Arthur: "Nelly and you are +going home with us. I'd rather stay here, but they won't +let me; and having you go home with us is next best."</p> + +<p>Rob thought this was rather an ungracious way for +Arthur to speak, and so it was.</p> + +<p>"You wouldn't like it here in the winter half so well as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[Pg 321]</a></span> +you do now, Arthur," he said. "It's awfully cold sometimes; +and real deep snow. You'd be shut up in the house +lots."</p> + +<p>"So I am at home," said Arthur: "weeks and weeks."</p> + +<p>"But your house is nicer to be shut up in than ours," +continued Rob.</p> + +<p>"I don't care," said Arthur: "I wanted to stay. But +I'm real glad you and Nelly are going. Can Nelly skate? +We'll go and see her skate in the Park."</p> + +<p>"No, she can't! but I can," said Rob. "Is there good +skating there?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, goodness, Rob!" exclaimed Arthur, "didn't you +know about the skating in Central Park? Well, you'll see! +We drive up there every pleasant day. I'm sick of it. But +the skating's some fun: I wish I could skate."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you'll get strong enough to, pretty soon," said +Rob, sympathizingly.</p> + +<p>"If they'd let me stay here I might," said Arthur, fretfully; +"but they won't."</p> + +<p>The nights grew cool so fast that Mr. and Mrs. Cook +began to be impatient to set out for home. At first, Mr. +and Mrs. March pleaded with them to stay longer; but one +morning Mrs. March said suddenly to her husband:—</p> + +<p>"Robert, I've changed my mind about the children's +going: I think the sooner they go the better. It is just like +having a day set for having a tooth pulled: you suffer all +the pain ten times over in anticipating it. I can't think +about anything else from morning till night. Oh, I do hope +we haven't done wrong!"</p> + +<p>"It isn't too late yet to keep them at home," said Mr. +March. "Don't let us do it if your mind is not clear. I +don't think Nelly more than half wants to go now."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, she does!" replied Mrs. March. "She is so<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[Pg 322]</a></span> +excited in the prospect that she talks in her sleep about it. +I heard her, last night."</p> + +<p>"The dear child!" said Mr. March. "It was Nelly that +they really wanted most."</p> + +<p>"Not at all," said Mrs. March, quickly: "Mr. Cook told +me that he would have only asked for Rob, but he knew +the children could not be separated."</p> + +<p>"Well, that's odd," said Mr. March. "Mrs. Cook told +me that she had been long thinking that she wished she +could have Nelly, but she knew it would be out of the +question to separate the children."</p> + +<p>Mrs. March laughed.</p> + +<p>"I see," she said: "they disagree about the children, just +as you and I do. Mrs. Cook likes Nelly best, and Mr. +Cook likes Rob."</p> + +<p>"Why, Sarah!" exclaimed Mr. March, "what do you +mean? We love the children just alike."</p> + +<p>"Yes, perhaps we love them equally," replied Mrs. March; +"but we don't like them equally. I like Rob's ways best, +and you like Nelly's. It's always been so, ever since they +were born. You'll see Nelly will make a good, loving, +lovable woman; but Rob will make a splendid man. Rob +will do something in the world: you see if he does not!"</p> + +<p>Mr. March smiled.</p> + +<p>"I hope he will," he said. "But as for my little Nelly, +I wouldn't ask any thing more for her than to be, as you +say, 'a good, loving, lovable woman.'"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[Pg 323]</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER XVI</h2> + +<h4>"GOOT-BY AND GOOT LUCK"</h4> + + +<p>When Nelly heard that they were to set out in three days, +she exclaimed:—</p> + +<p>"Why, I didn't bid Ulrica good-by, or Mr. Kleesman, +or Billy and Lucinda. I thought we weren't going for two +weeks. Mayn't I go up to-morrow, mamma? I can sell +some eggs, too, even if it isn't the regular day. Ever so +many people ask me for them always. Hardly anybody +keeps hens in Rosita."</p> + +<p>Mrs. March said she might go. So, very early the next +morning, Nelly set off on her last trip to Rosita. Billy was +standing in his doorway as she passed.</p> + +<p>"Hullo, Nelly! Where's Rob?" he said.</p> + +<p>"Rob's at home with Arthur," she replied. "He didn't +want to come. I only came to bid everybody good-by. +We're going day after to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"Be yer?" said Billy, slowly. "Be yer glad, Nelly?"</p> + +<p>"Why, yes, Billy, I can't help being glad; and for all +that, it makes me cry when I think about going away from +mamma and papa. Isn't that queer?" said Nelly: "I'm +glad, and yet it makes me cry."</p> + +<p>"No, 'tain't queer," said Billy: "'twould be queerer if ye +didn't. Ain't Rob goin' to bid anybody good-by?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, he'll have time when we go by, the day we go," +said Nelly. "We're all coming up to Rosita to sleep to-morrow +night at the hotel; and then papa and mamma and +Rob and I are going in the stage to Canyon City. There<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[Pg 324]</a></span> +isn't room for any more in Mr. Cook's carriage. Perhaps +Rob'll go in the wagon with Ralph and Thomas. He wants +to; but mamma wants to see all of him she can.</p> + +<p>"That's just the difference between them two children, +Luce," said Billy, after Nelly had walked on: "Rob he's +all for himself, without meanin' to be, either; he jest don't +think: but Nelly she's 's thoughtful 's a woman about +everybody."</p> + +<p>"I donno why you say 's thoughtful 's a woman, Billy," +said Lucinda. "I've seen plenty of women that was as +selfish as any men ever I see."</p> + +<p>"Well, I expect that's so, Luce," said Billy. "You +ought to know, bein' a woman."</p> + +<p>Nelly went first to Ulrica's. Ulrica listened with wide +open mouth and eyes to the news that she would see Nelly +no more all winter. At first, her face was very sad; but +in a few moments she said:—</p> + +<p>"Bah! shame me to be sorry. It are goot! goot! Ulrica +vill be glad. Ven you come back?"</p> + +<p>"Early next summer," replied Nelly. "Mr. Cook always +comes to Colorado in June."</p> + +<p>Ulrica ran to the big oak-chest, and opening it took out +the blue skirt and red bodice she had been making for Nelly.</p> + +<p>"See! it are not done: that goot-for-not'ing Sachs he +promise, promise, all de time promise to make buttons."</p> + +<p>"What is it, Ulrica?" asked Nelly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you not know? It are gown,—Swede gown for +you: like mine child." And she ran for the picture-book +of costumes, and pointed to one like it.</p> + +<p>Nelly was much pleased.</p> + +<p>"Oh! how good of you, Ulrica!" she said. "Mrs. Cook +would love to see me put that dress on, I am sure. I will +wear it sometimes in the house, when I am in New York, +to remind me of you."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[Pg 325]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I get buttons to-day!" said Ulrica, fiercely. "I stay +by dat Sachs till he cut dem. It are not work: he do it in +five minnit. You come again to-night: it are done."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Clapp and Mr. Kleesman were both very much +pleased to hear that Nelly was going away with Mr. and +Mrs. Cook. Mrs. Clapp kissed her, and said:—</p> + +<p>"Good-by, dear! You are a brave little girl, and deserve +to have a nice, long play-spell; and I am glad you are going +to have one. Wait a minute, and I will give you something +to wear on your journey." Then she ran upstairs, and +brought down a nice leather belt with a pretty little leather +bag hanging from it, just big enough to hold a purse. +"There, that is to keep your purse in, and your railroad +ticket," she said, and fastened it around Nelly's waist.</p> + +<p>Mr. Kleesman also kissed Nelly, and said he was glad +she was going.</p> + +<p>"You haf earn that you haf playtime," he said. "You +haf vork all summer like von voman more as von little girl."</p> + +<p>"I wonder why they all say such things to me," thought +Nelly. "I am sure I don't know what I have done. If +they mean selling the eggs, that was only fun."</p> + +<p>"Do you mean selling the eggs, sir?" asked honest +Nelly. "That was not work: it was just fun. Rob and I +never had such a good time before. We would have liked +to come every day."</p> + +<p>Mr. Kleesman nodded.</p> + +<p>"I know! I know!" he said. "You are not like American +childs." Then he asked:—</p> + +<p>"And vat do become of the Goot Luck mine? I not hear +not'ing since."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" said Nelly, "we have almost forgotten about the +old mine. It wasn't 'good luck:' was it? But Mr. Scholfield +keeps on working at it now. He will not give up that +it is not good for any thing."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[Pg 326]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I say not, it are wort not'ing," replied Mr. Kleesman: +"I say it not pay to work it. It cost too much for so little +silver as come out."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir; papa understood that," said Nelly; "and he +was very much obliged to you indeed; and so we all were."</p> + +<p>Then Mr. Kleesman said:—</p> + +<p>"Come in! come in! Can you to vait von little? I +make for you silver rose, that you carry viz you."</p> + +<p>"Oh, thank you!" said Nelly; and followed him in, +wondering much what he meant by a silver rose.</p> + +<p>Then he took out of the glass box, where the brass scales +were, a little saucer, full of tiny silver beads like pin-heads. +These he folded up in a bit of paper, shaped like a little +cocked hat. This he put into one of the little clay cups, +and set it in the glowing red-hot oven. Pretty soon Nelly +looked in. The silver was boiling and bubbling in the little +cup; the bubbles looked like shining silver eyes on the red; +then there came beautiful rainbow colors all over it.</p> + +<p>"See you it haf colors like rainbow?" said Mr. Kleesman: +"ven dey come it are almost done."</p> + +<p>In a second more he took out the cup: set it on the iron +anvil: there was a fiery line of red around the silver button: +the button was about the size of a three-cent piece.</p> + +<p>"Vatch! vatch!" cried Mr. Kleesman: "in one second +it burst."</p> + +<p>Sure enough, in one second the round button burst in +the middle, and the hot silver gushed up like a little fairy +fountain of water, not more than quarter of an inch high: +in the same instant it fell, cooled, and there was a sort of +flower, not unlike a rose, of frosted silver.</p> + +<p>"Dere! ven you are in New York, you can take dis to +jeweller, and he put pin on it; and you shall vear it, and +tell to all peoples you haf seen it ven it vas made by old +man in de Colorado mountains."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[Pg 327]</a></span></p> + +<p>Nelly took the pretty thing in her hands and looked at it +with delight. She had never had any thing so pretty, she +thought; and she thanked Mr. Kleesman again and again, +as she bade him good-by.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I see you again: I see you ven you go in stage. I +not say good-by to-day," he said, and looked after her +lovingly as she ran down the steps.</p> + +<p>Ulrica had a stormy time of it with Sachs, the tin-man, +before she could get him to cut out the make-believe buttons +for Nelly's gown. He was at work on a big boiler, and +he did not want to stop. Ulrica's broken English grew so +much more broken when she was angry, that hardly any +one could understand her; and William Sachs, who was a +German, knew English very little better than Ulrica: so +between them they made sad work of it.</p> + +<p>"I stamp my foot at him," said Ulrica, telling Nelly the +tale: "I stamp at him my foot, and I take out of his hand +his big hammer vat he pound, pound viz all time dat I am +speak, so dat he not hear my speak. I take out his hand, +and I frow down on floor; and I say, 'I not stir till you +my buttons haf cut for mine child;' and ven he see I not +stir, he take tools and he cut, cut, cut, and all the time he +swear at me; he call me 'tam Swede woman;' but I not +care. And here are gown: now you come in and put on."</p> + +<p>So Nelly went in, and Ulrica helped her to undress. +When she saw Nelly's white neck, she stooped down and +kissed her, and said.—</p> + +<p>"Mine child haf white skin: like your skin."</p> + +<p>The red bodice fitted Nelly very well; and she looked +lovely in it. It had a low collar, all covered with the shining +tin buttons; and in the front there was a square space of +white muslin, and the tin buttons were sewed on all round +this. The blue petticoat was too long: it lay on the ground +two inches or more. Ulrica looked at it dismayed.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[Pg 328]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Ach!" she said: "ach! you haf not so tall I tink. I +make him now in von little more as short." And down on +the floor she sat, and hemmed up the skirt in a wonderfully +quick time.</p> + +<p>"Ach! if you vait till Jan see you in dis," she said, looking +imploringly at Nelly, with tears running down her face. +"You are mine child, mine child!"</p> + +<p>But Nelly knew that Jan would not be at home till six +o'clock, and she could not stay so long. So she took off +the pretty costume, and kissed Ulrica, and thanked her +many times over; and set off for home with all her presents +safe-packed in her basket.</p> + +<p>When Rob saw the presents, he said:—</p> + +<p>"Oh, my! I wonder if they'd all have given me things +too, if I'd gone up. Did they say any thing about me?"</p> + +<p>"They asked why you didn't come," replied Nelly; "and +I told them you meant to bid them good-by to-morrow, +when we started on the journey."</p> + +<p>"All right!" said Rob: "if they've got any thing for +me they can give it to me then."</p> + +<p>"I never thought of their giving me any thing," said +Nelly: "I wonder what made them."</p> + +<p>"Because they all know that you love them, Nelly," said +her father: "don't you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I think so," said Nelly, hesitatingly: "almost love +them,—not quite, I guess: except Ulrica. I love her +dearly."</p> + +<p>"And Lucinda and Billy," added Rob. "I love them +best of all. I don't love any of the rest. You can't love +everybody."</p> + +<p>At sunset the next night, the March house was shut up; +the tents were all gone; the whole place looked deserted and +silent. Everybody had gone: Mr. and Mrs. Cook and Flora +and Arthur in the carriage: Ralph and Thomas and Rob in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[Pg 329]</a></span> +the white-topped wagon; and Mr. and Mrs. March and +Nelly in Mr. Scholfield's buggy, which he had lent them. +They drove up to Rosita in time to see the sunset from the +top of the hill. Nelly looked at the mountains as they +changed from blue to purple, and from purple to dusky +gray: she did not speak. At last her mother said:—</p> + +<p>"You won't forget how the mountains look: will you, +Nelly?"</p> + +<p>"Not a bit more than I'll forget how you and papa +look!" said Nelly: "not a bit!"</p> + +<p>After tea, Rob went to bid Mrs. Clapp and Mr. Kleesman +and Ulrica and Jan good-by. Everybody spoke very cordially +to him, and hoped he would have a good time; but +nobody gave him any thing, and Rob was a good deal disappointed. +He said nothing about it when he came home: +he was ashamed to. But Nelly knew how he felt, just as +well as if he had told her; and in her good little heart she +was very sorry for him.</p> + +<p>"Mamma," she said, "isn't it too bad that none of them +gave Rob any thing, when they gave me all those nice +things?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I'm sorry," said Mrs. March; "but he has not +been here so much as you have,—that is the reason: and +he is so happy in the prospect of his journey, he will not +mind it."</p> + +<p>The stage from Rosita to Canyon City set off at seven +o'clock in the morning. When it drove up to the hotel door, +Mr. and Mrs. March and Rob and Nelly were all ready, +sitting on the piazza. While they were getting in, Mr. +Kleesman's door opened, and he came running up, with his +red cotton cap still on his head: in his hurry he had forgotten +to take it off. He looked so droll that even Nelly +laughed; and this reminded him of his nightcap.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[Pg 330]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Ach!" he said, and snatched it off and crammed it into +his pocket.</p> + +<p>In a moment more, who should come hurrying up the hill +but Jan and Ulrica; and, behind them, Billy and Lucinda. +Billy and Lucinda had come up to town the night before, +and slept at Lucinda's father's house, so as to be on hand +to see Nelly and Rob off.</p> + +<p>None of the Cook family were up. Their horses would +go so much faster than the stage horses, they were not going +to set out until noon. Ralph and Thomas had started with +the heavy wagon at daylight.</p> + +<p>There were no other passengers to go in the stage except +the Marches: so the driver did not hurry them; and, after +they had taken their seats, Jan and Ulrica and Billy and +Lucinda all crowded around, saying last words.</p> + +<p>Ulrica had brought two great bouquets of purple and +white asters and golden-rod, the only flowers that were +then in bloom.</p> + +<p>"Dese are for you," she said to the children; but, when +they reached out their hands to take them, she shook her +head, and said: "No, I frow dem: it haf luck to frow +dem."</p> + +<p>Lucinda had brought a little parcel in which were two +knit scarfs, which she had knit herself: one white and one +red. The red one was for Rob and the white one for Nelly, +she said. They were very pretty. Billy brought a knife for +Rob: a capital knife, one with four blades. Rob's face +flushed with pleasure.</p> + +<p>"Why, Billy," he said, "how'd you know I'd lost my +knife?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I found out," said Billy. The truth was, that Billy +had walked all the way down to the tents, a few days before, +and asked Ralph and Flora if they knew of any thing +Rob wanted; and Flora told him how Rob had lost his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[Pg 331]</a></span> +knife that very day,—had dropped it in the creek, while +he was cutting willows to make whistles of. After Billy +had given Rob the knife, he pulled out of his pocket a little +parcel done up in white paper, and handed it to Nelly, +saying:—</p> + +<p>"I dunno 's it'll be of any kind o' use to yer; but I +thought 'twas kind o' putty."</p> + +<p>Nelly opened the paper. It held a queer little scarlet +velvet pincushion, in a white ivory frame, which was made +so that it could screw on a table.</p> + +<p>"Oh, how pretty!" said Nelly. "Thank you, Billy. I'll +keep it on my table all winter."</p> + +<p>Mr. Kleesman stood behind the others. He smiled and +bowed, and said to Mr. March:—</p> + +<p>"You haf goot day. The sun shine on your journey."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Mr. March. "I'm afraid it will not shine so +bright when we come back without these little people."</p> + +<p>"No, dat it vill not," said Mr. Kleesman. "Dat it vill +not."</p> + +<p>"Well," said the driver, gathering up the reins in his +left hand, and lifting his whip, "I guess we'll have to be +movin' along, if you're ready, sir."</p> + +<p>"All ready," said Mr. March.</p> + +<p>The driver cracked his whip, and the horses started off +on a run, up the hill.</p> + +<p>"Good-by! good-by!" shouted Rob and Nelly, leaning +out.</p> + +<p>"Goot-by!" cried Ulrica, and flung her bouquets into the +stage, into Mrs. March's lap, and Nelly's.</p> + +<p>"Good-by! good-by!" cried Billy and Lucinda.</p> + +<p>"Goot-by!" cried Mr. Kleesman; "and goot luck go +with you."</p> + +<p>"That's jest what will go with that Nelly wherever she +goes," said Billy, turning to Mr. Kleesman.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[Pg 332]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You haf known the child?" asked Mr. Kleesman.</p> + +<p>"Well, yes," said Billy, leisurely, "I may say I know +her. I brought 'em here, three years ago last spring; an' +me 'n' my wife we lived with 'em goin' on a year. Yes, I +know 'em. There ain't any nicer folks in this world; but +Nelly she's the pick o' the hull on 'em. She ain't no common +child; she ain't, now. She hain't minded no more +about that mine o' hern,—that mine she found,—I suppose +you've heered all about it—"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know," said Mr. Kleesman.</p> + +<p>"Well," continued Billy, "nobody but me knows how +that little gal's heart was set on to thet mine. She'd come +an' stand by the hour an' see me work in it. I worked there +long o' Scholfield some six weeks: we was all took in putty +bad. She'd come an' stand an' look an' look, and talk about +what her father 'n' mother could do with the money; never +so much 's a word about any thing she'd like herself; an' +yet I could see her hull heart was jest set on it. And yet's +soon 's 'twas clear an' sartin that the mine wan't good for +any thing, she jest give it all up; and there hain't never +come a complainin' or a disapp'inted word out o' her mouth. +'Twas her own mine too,—and after her namin' it and all. +I've seen many a man in this country broken all up by no +worse a disappointment than that child had. She's been +jest a lesson to me: she has. I declare I never go by the +pesky mine without thinking o' the day when she danced up +and sez she, 'I'll name it! I'll name it "The Good +Luck!"'"</p> + +<p>"Ach, veil!" said Mr. Kleesman, "she haf better than +any silver mine in her own self. She haf such goot-vill, +such patient, such true, she haf always 'goot luck.' She +are 'Goot Luck mine' her own self."</p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Nelly's Silver Mine, by Helen Hunt Jackson + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NELLY'S SILVER MINE *** + +***** This file should be named 34430-h.htm or 34430-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/4/4/3/34430/ + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Dianne Nolan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Nelly's Silver Mine + A Story of Colorado Life + +Author: Helen Hunt Jackson + +Illustrator: Harriet Roosevelt Richards + +Release Date: December 1, 2010 [EBook #34430] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NELLY'S SILVER MINE *** + + + + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Dianne Nolan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + +[Illustration: _All that morning Rob fished and Nelly stuck +grasshoppers on the hook for him._ +FRONTISPIECE. _See page 204._] + + The Beacon Hill Bookshelf + + + Nelly's Silver Mine + + _A Story of Colorado Life_ + + By + + Helen Hunt Jackson + + With Illustrations in Color by + Harriet Roosevelt Richards + + Boston + Little, Brown, and Company + 1926 + + _Copyright, 1878,_ + BY ROBERTS BROTHERS + + _Copyright, 1906, 1920,_ + BY WILLIAM S. JACKSON. + + _Copyright, 1910,_ + BY LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY. + + _All rights reserved._ + + _Printed in the United States of America_ + + + + +CONTENTS + + + CHAPTER PAGE + + I CHRISTMAS-DAY IN NELLY'S NEW ENGLAND HOME 1 + + II A TALK ABOUT LEAVING MAYFIELD 18 + + III OFF FOR COLORADO 48 + + IV A NIGHT IN A SLEEPING-CAR 71 + + V FIRST GLIMPSES OF COLORADO AND A NEW HOME 96 + + VI LIFE AT GARLAND'S 125 + + VII A HUNT FOR A SILVER MINE 141 + + VIII THE MARCHES LEAVE GARLAND'S 156 + + IX WET MOUNTAIN VALLEY 187 + + X ROB AND NELLY GO INTO BUSINESS 208 + + XI HOW TO FIND A SILVER MINE 227 + + XII NELLY'S SILVER MINE 250 + + XIII "THE GOOD LUCK" 270 + + XIV AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE 292 + + XV CHANGES IN PROSPECT 311 + + XVI "GOOT-BY AND GOOT LUCK" 323 + + + + + + +ILLUSTRATIONS + + All that morning Rob fished and Nelly stuck + grasshoppers on the hook for him _Frontispiece_ + + FACING PAGE + + Nelly sat on one side, with all the dolls ranged + in a row against the wall 20 + + He would ring out such a "jodel" that the people + would stop and look up amazed 132 + + There she saw the very place she recollected so well 256 + + + + + + +NELLY'S SILVER MINE + + + +CHAPTER I + +CHRISTMAS-DAY IN NELLY'S NEW-ENGLAND HOME + + +It was Christmas morning; and Nelly March and her brother Rob were +lying wide awake in their beds, wondering if it would do for them to +get up and look in their stockings to see what Santa Claus had +brought them. Nelly and Rob were twins; but you would never have +thought so, when you looked at them, for Nelly was half a head +taller than Rob, and a good deal heavier. She had always been well; +but Rob had always been a delicate child. He was ill now with a bad +sore throat, and had been shut up in the house for ten days. This +was the reason that he and Nelly were in bed at six o'clock this +Christmas morning, instead of scampering all about the house, and +waking everybody up with their shouts of delight over their +presents. When they went to bed the night before, Mrs. March had +said: "Now, Rob, you must promise me not to get out of bed till it +is broad daylight, and the house is thoroughly warm. You will +certainly take cold, if you get up in the cold room." + +"Mamma," said Nelly, "I needn't stay in bed just because Rob has to, +need I? I can take his presents out of the stocking, and carry them +to him." + +"You shan't, either," said Rob, fretfully. "I want to take them out +myself; and you're real mean not to wait for me, Nell. 'Tisn't half +so much fun for just one. Shan't she stay in bed too, mamma, as long +as I have to?" + +Mrs. March looked at Nelly, and smiled. She knew Nelly had not +thought Rob would care any thing about her getting up first, or she +would never have proposed it. Nelly was always ready to give up to +Rob, much more so than was for his good. + +"Nelly can do as she pleases, Rob," she answered. "I don't think it +would be fair for me to compel her to stay in bed because you have a +sore throat: do you?" + +But Rob did not answer. He was not a very generous boy, and all he +was thinking of now was his own pleasure. + +"Say, Nell," he cried, "you won't get up, will you, till I can? +Don't: I'll think you're real unkind if you do." + +"No, no, Rob," said Nelly. "Indeed I won't. I don't care. It will be +all the longer to think about it, and that's almost the best part of +it." And Nelly threw her arms around Rob's neck and kissed him. + +"It's too bad, you darling," she said, "you have to be sick on +Christmas-day. I won't have any pudding, either, if you don't want +me to." + +Mrs. March was an Englishwoman, and had lived in England till she +was married, and she always had on Christmas-day a real English +plum-pudding with brandy turned over it, and set on fire just before +the pudding was brought to the table, so that when it came in the +blue and red and yellow flames were all blazing up high over it, and +the waitress had to turn her head away not to breathe the heat from +the flames. + +You would have thought it would have made Rob ashamed to have Nelly +propose to go without pudding because he could not eat any, but I +don't think it did. All he said was,-- + +"Don't be a goose, Nell. That's quite different." + +Just before they went to sleep, Sarah, the cook, went past their +door, and Nelly called to her:-- + +"Sarah, mamma says we mustn't get up to-morrow morning till the +house is very warm. Couldn't you get up very early and start the +furnace fire?" + +"Why, yes, Miss Nelly, I can do that easy enough, sure; but where'll +you be sleeping?" + +"Just where we always do, Sarah," replied Nelly, much surprised at +this question. + +"Well, miss, I'll be up long before light and get the house as warm +as toast by the time you can see to tell the toes from the heels of +your stockings," said Sarah. "Good-night, Miss Nelly. Good-night, +Master Rob." + +"What could she have meant asking where we'd be sleeping?" said Rob. + +"I'm sure I don't know," said Nelly; "it's very queer. We've never +slept anywhere but in these two beds since we were babies. I don't +know what's got into her head. It's the queerest thing I ever knew. +I guess she was sleepy," and in a few moments both the children were +fast asleep. + +Rob was the first to wake up. It was not much past midnight. + +"Nelly," he whispered. No answer. + +Twice he called: still no answer. There was not a sound to be heard +except the loud ticking of the high clock at the head of the stairs. +Presently there came a rustle and quick low steps, and his mother +stood by his bed. + +"What do you want, my dear little boy?" she said. "Is your throat +worse?" + +"No; isn't it time to get up?" said Rob. "Hasn't Sarah made the +fire?" + +"Oh, mercy!" exclaimed Mrs. March. "Is that all? Why Rob! it isn't +anywhere near morning. You must go to sleep again, child; it is a +terribly cold night," and she tucked the bed-clothes tight around +him, and ran back to her own room. + +"I don't care," said Rob. "I'll just stay awake. I don't believe +it'll be very long;" but before he knew it he was fast asleep again. +The next time he waked, it had begun to be light, or rather a little +less dark. He could see the outline of the window at the foot of his +bed, and he could see Nelly's bedstead, which was on the opposite +side of the room. + +"Nelly," he called again. + +"I'm awake," said Nelly. + +"Why didn't you speak?" said Rob. + +"I was thinking," replied Nelly. "Sarah hasn't gone down yet." + +"Pshaw," said Rob, "she must have. She said she'd go long before +light. She went before you were awake." + +"It's awful cold," whispered Nelly; "I can't keep even my hands out +of bed. I'm going to jump up and see if any hot air comes in at the +register." So saying, she jumped out of bed, ran to the register, +and held her hands above it. + +"Cold as Greenland, Rob," she said, "Sarah can't have made the fire. +I don't believe she is up." + +"Oh, dear," said Rob, "every thing all goes wrong when I'm sick. I +think it's too mean I have to be the sick one just because we're +twins. I heard a lady say once to mamma,--she didn't think I heard +but I did,--'Weren't you very sorry, Mrs. March, to have twins? You +know they can't ever both be strong. Your Rob, now, he looks very +sickly.' Civil, that was, to mamma, wasn't it? I was so mad I could +have flung my ball at her old wise head. But I think it must be +true, because mamma answered her real gentle, but with her voice all +trembly, and she said, 'Yes, I know that is usually said to be so; +but we hope to prove to the contrary. Rob grows stronger every year, +and he and his sister take so much comfort together, I can never +regret that they were born twins.' But I do: I think it's a shame +to make a fellow sick all his life that way. I say, Nell, I don't +believe you'd mind it half so much as I do. Girls are different from +boys. I think it would have been better for you to be the sick one +than me. Don't you? Say, Nell!" + +This was a hard question for poor Nelly. + +"Oh, Rob!" she said, "I don't want to be selfish about it. I'd be +willing to take turns and be sick half the times; or some more than +half,--I guess three-quarters: but I think you ought to have a +little." + +"But don't you see, Nell, it can't be that way," interrupted Rob; +"it can't be that way with twins. It's got to be one sick one and +one strong one. That's what that lady said, and mamma said she'd +heard so too; and I think it's just as mean as any thing. They might +have let us be born as much as three days apart, or a week: that +wouldn't have made any difference in the fun; we could have played +just as well, and, besides, we'd have had two birthdays to keep +then, don't you see?" + +"I don't think that would be so nice, Rob," said Nelly, "as to have +one together. That would be like my getting up now, before you do, +and having my stocking all to myself, and you didn't want me to do +that." + +"Pshaw, Nell," replied Rob, impatiently as before: "that's quite +different; but girls never see things." + +Nelly laughed out loud. "I don't know why: we have as many eyes as +boys have. I see lots more things in the woods than you do, always." + +"Oh, not that sort of things," answered Rob; "not that kind of +seeing; not with your eyes: I mean to see with your--well, I don't +know what it is you see with, the kind I mean; but don't you know +mamma often says to papa about something that's got to be done, +'don't you see? don't you see?' and she doesn't mean that he is to +look with his eyes: that's the kind I mean. Now where is that +Sarah?" he exclaimed suddenly, sitting bolt upright in bed in his +excitement. "It's as cold as out-doors here, and there isn't a +creature stirring in the house, and it's broad daylight." + +"Oh, Rob, do lie down and cover yourself up," cried Nelly. "You're a +naughty boy, and you'll have another sore throat as sure's you're +alive. It isn't broad daylight nor any thing like it. I can't but +just see the stockings." + +"Can't but just see them!" said Rob. "Didn't I tell you girls +couldn't see any thing? Why, I can see them just as plain, just as +plain as if I was in 'em! Ain't they big, Nell? I know what's in +yours, for one thing." + +"Oh, Rob! do you? Tell me!" exclaimed Nell. + +"I can't," replied Rob. "I promised mamma I wouldn't. But it's +something you've wanted awfully." + +"A doll, Rob! oh, is it a doll with eyes that can shut? oh, say, +Rob!" pleaded Nelly. "It's long past the time I ought to have had +it, if you hadn't been sick: you might tell me. I'll tell you what +one of your things is if you will." + +"I don't want to know, Nell," replied Rob, "and you needn't tease +me, for I'll never tell you: not if they lie abed in this house all +day. Dear me! where can Sarah be? I'm going to call mamma." + +"You can't make her hear, Rob," answered Nelly. "They shut the doors +ever so long ago. They were talking about something they didn't want +us to hear." + +"How do you know?" said Rob. + +"Because I heard some of what they said, and I coughed so that they +might know I was awake," replied Nelly. "Oh, Rob, it is awful!" and +Nelly began to sob. + +"What's awful? what is it, Nell? Tell me, can't you?" said Rob, in +an excited tone. + +"No, Rob I'm not going to tell you any thing about it," replied +Nelly. "It wouldn't be fair, because they didn't want us to know. +It'll be time enough when it comes." + +"When what comes?" shouted Rob, thoroughly roused now. "I do say, +Nell March, you're enough to try a saint. What did you tell me any +thing about it for? I'll tell mamma the minute she comes in, and +tell her you listened. Oh, shame, shame, shame on a listener!" + +"Rob, you're just as mean as you can be," cried Nelly. "I didn't +listen, and mamma knows very well I wouldn't do such a thing. Of +course I couldn't help hearing when both doors were open, and I +coughed out loud as soon as I thought about it that most likely they +didn't mean we should know any thing about it. I heard papa say +something about the children, and mamma said, 'we won't tell them +till it is all settled,' and then I gave a great big cough, and she +got up and shut both the doors; so now, Rob, you see I wasn't a +listener. I wouldn't listen for any thing: mamma said once it was +the very meanest kind of a lie in the whole world! Mamma knows I +wouldn't do it, and you can just tell her what you like, you old +hateful boy." + +This was a very unhappy sort of talk for Christmas morning, was it +not? But both Rob and Nelly were tired and cold, and their patience +was all worn out. It really was a hard trial for two children only +twelve years old to have to lie still in bed, hour after hour, +Christmas morning, waiting for their presents; it grew slowly +lighter and lighter; each moment they could see the big stockings +plainer and plainer; they hung on the outside of the closet door on +two big hooks, where were usually hung the children's school hats. +One stocking was gray, and one was white. I must tell you about +these stockings, for they were very droll. They were larger than the +largest boots you ever saw, and would reach the whole length of a +man's leg, way above his knee, as far up as they could go. They +belonged to the children's grandfather March. He was one of the +queerest old gentlemen that ever was known, I think. He lived in a +city a great many miles away from the village where Mr. and Mrs. +March lived, but he used to spend his winters with them. About six +weeks before he arrived, big boxes used to begin to come. There was +no railroad to this village: every thing had to come on coaches or +big luggage wagons. Early in November, old Mr. March's boxes always +began to arrive at his son's house. When Rob and Nelly saw Mr. +Earle's big express wagon drive up to the back gate, they always +exclaimed, "Oh, there are grandpa's things coming!" and they would +run out to see them unloaded. You would have thought that old Mr. +March supposed there was nothing to eat in all the village, to see +what quantities of food he sent up. But the most peculiar thing +about it was that he sent such queer things. He was as queer about +his food as he was about every thing else, and he did not eat the +things other people ate. For instance, he never ate butter; he ate +fresh olive oil on everything; and he had a notion that no olive oil +was brought to this country to sell which was fit to eat. He had an +intimate friend who was an old sea captain, and used to sail to +Smyrna; this sea captain used to bring over for him large boxes of +bottles of olive oil every spring and autumn; and two or three of +these boxes he would use up in the course of the winter. He never +used more than half of the oil in a bottle: after it had been opened +a few days, he did not like it; he would smell it very carefully +each day, and, by the third or fourth day, he would shove the bottle +from him, and say, "Bah! throw the stuff away! throw it away! it +isn't fit to eat!" Mrs. March had great trouble in disposing of +these half bottles of oil; everybody in the neighborhood took them, +and very glad people were to get them too, for the oil was +delicious; but there were enough for two or three villages of the +size of Mayfield. These sweet-oil boxes had curious letters on them +in scarlet and blue, and the bottles were all rolled up in a sort of +shining silver paper, which Rob and Nelly used to keep to cover +boxes with. It was very pretty, so they were always glad when they +saw a big pile of the olive-oil boxes. Then there were also boxes +full of bottles of pepper-sauce; this came in big black bottles, and +the little peppers showed red through the glass; the smallest drop +of this pepper-sauce made your mouth burn like fire, but this queer +old gentleman used to pour it over every thing he ate. The big +bottle of pepper-sauce and the big bottle of olive oil were always +put by his plate, and he poured first from one and then from the +other, until the food on his plate was nearly swimming in the +strange mixture. Salt fish was another of his favorite dishes, and +he brought up every autumn huge piles of them. They came in flat +packages, tied up with coarse cord; when Mr. Earle threw them down +to the ground from the top of his wagon a strong and disagreeable +odor rose in the air, and Rob and Nelly used to exclaim, "Groans for +the salt fish! groans for the salt fish! Why didn't you lose it off +the wagon, Mr. Earle?" + +"It wouldn't have made any odds, miss," Mr. Earle used to reply. +"The old gentleman'd have made me go back for more." Besides the +salt fish, there were little kegs full of what are called "tongues +and sounds," put up in salt brine; these are the tongues and the +intestines of fish; there were also jars of oysters and of clams, +and a barrel of the sort of bread sailors eat at sea, which is +called hard-tack. Now, after hearing about the extraordinary food +this old gentleman used to bring for his own use, you will be +prepared to believe what I have to tell you about his big stockings. +He had just as queer notions about his bed and all his arrangements +for sleeping, as he had about his food. No woman was ever allowed +to make his bed. He always made it himself. Except in the very +hottest weather, he would not have any sheets on it, only the very +finest of flannel blankets, a great many of them; and he never wore +any night-gown; he believed they were very unwholesome things. + +"Why don't animals put on night-gowns to sleep in?" he used to say; +one might very well have replied to him, "Animals don't crawl in +between blankets either, and if you are going to be simply an +animal, you must go without any clothes day and night both." +However, he was a very irritable old gentleman, and nobody ever +argued with him about any thing. Mr. and Mrs. March let him do in +all ways exactly as he liked, and never contradicted him, for he +loved them very much, in his way, and was very good to them. + +Of all his queer ways and queer things, I think these big stockings +were the queerest. As I said, he never wore any night-gown in bed, +but he was over seventy years old, and, in spite of all his +theories, his feet and legs would sometimes get cold: so he went to +a tailor and got an exact pattern of a tight-fitting leg to a pair +of trousers; then he took this to a woman who knit stockings to +sell, and he unrolled his leg pattern before her, and said:-- + +"Do you see that leg, ma'am? Can you knit a stocking leg that shape +and length?" + +The woman did not know what to make of him. + +"Why, sir," said she, "you'd never want a stocking-leg that long?" + +"I didn't ask you what I wanted, ma'am," growled the old gentleman, +"I asked you what you could do. Can you knit a stocking-leg that +length and shape?" + +"Why, yes, sir, I suppose I can," she replied, much cowed by his +fierce manner. + +"Well, then, knit me six pairs, three gray and three white. There's +the pattern for the foot," and he threw down an old sock of his on +the table, and was striding away. + +The woman followed him. + +"But, sir," she said timidly, "I couldn't knit these for the price +of ordinary stockings. I'm afraid you wouldn't be willing to pay +what they would cost. It would be like knitting a pair of +pantaloons, sir,--indeed it would." + +Old Mr. March always carried a big gold-headed cane; and, when he +was angry, he lifted it from the ground and shook the gold knob as +fast as he could right in people's faces. He lifted it now, and +shook the gold knob so close in the woman's face, that she retreated +rapidly toward the door. + +"I didn't say any thing about money: did I, ma'am? Knit those +stockings: I don't care what they cost," he cried. + +"But I thought," she interrupted. + +"I didn't ask you to think, did I?" said Mr. March, speaking louder +and louder. "You'll never earn any money thinking. Knit those +stockings, ma'am, and the sooner the better," and the old gentleman +walked out of the house muttering. + +"Dear me, what a very hasty old gentleman!" said the woman to +herself. "I'll go over and ask Mrs. March, and make sure it's all +right." So the next day she went to see Mrs. March, who explained to +her all the old gentleman's whims about sleeping, and that he was +quite willing and able to pay whatever the queer stockings would +cost. In a very few weeks, the stockings were all done; and the old +gentleman was so pleased with them that he gave the woman an extra +five-dollar bill, besides the sum she had charged for knitting them. +And this was the way that there came to be hanging up in Nelly's and +Rob's chamber two such huge stockings on this Christmas morning of +which I am telling you. They were splendid stockings for Christmas +stockings! It did really seem as if you never would get to the +bottom of them. The children used to lay them down on the floor, and +run around them, and pull out thing after thing. Mrs. March +sometimes wished they were not quite so large: it took a great deal +to fill them: but, after having once used them, she had not the +heart to go back to the ordinary-sized stocking, for it would have +been such a disappointment to the children. She used them, first, +one Christmas when Nelly's chief present was a big doll about two +feet and a half tall, which wore real baby clothes like a live baby. +This was so big it could not go into a common stocking, and Mrs. +March happened then to think of her father's. The old gentleman was +delighted to have them used for the purpose, and stood by laughing +hard, while Mrs. March put the things in. + +"Ha! ha!" he said, "the old stockings are good for more than one +thing: aren't they?" + +But we are leaving Nelly and Rob a long time in bed waiting for +their Christmas presents. It grew lighter and lighter, and still +there was no sound in the house, and the room grew no warmer. Rob +was so thoroughly cross that he lay back on his pillow, with his +eyes shut and his lips pouting out, and would not speak a word. In +vain Nelly tried to comfort him, or to interest him. He would not +speak. Even Nelly's patience was nearly worn out. At last the door +of their mother's room opened, and she came out in her warm red +wrapper. + +"Why, you dear patient little children!" she exclaimed; "are you in +bed yet? this is too bad. What does make your room so cold! Why, +bless me!" she exclaimed, going to the register, "no heat is coming +up here; what does this mean?" + +"I don't think Sarah has gone down yet: I've been awake a long time, +mamma," said Nelly. + +"A thousand years, it is," exclaimed Rob, "or more, that we've been +lying awake here waiting: Sarah's the meanest girl alive." + +"Hush, hush, Rob!" said Mrs. March. "Don't speak so. Perhaps she is +ill. I will go and see. But you may have your presents on the bed;" +and, going to the closet, she took down first the gray stocking, +which was for Rob, and carried it and laid it on his bed. Then she +carried the white one, and laid it on Nelly's bed. + +"Oh, goody, goody!" they both cried at once. "You're real good, +mamma;" and in one second more all four of the little arms were +plunging into the depths of the big stockings. + +"You've earned your presents this time," said Mrs. March, as she +pinned warm blankets round the children's shoulders. "I think you +are really very brave little children to be quiet so many hours. It +is after eight o'clock. I am afraid Sarah is ill." + +Then she went upstairs and the children heard her knocking at +Sarah's door, and calling, "Sarah! Sarah!" Presently she came down +very quickly, and went into her room; in a few minutes, she went +back again, and Mr. March went with her. Then the children heard +more knocking, and their papa calling very loud, "Sarah! Sarah! open +the door this moment." Then came a loud crash. + +"Papa's smashed the door in," said Rob. "Good enough for her, lazy +old thing, to sleep so Christmas morning! I hope mamma won't give +her any present." Nelly did not speak. She had scarcely heard the +knocking or the calls: she was so absorbed in looking at her new +doll,--a wax doll with eyes that could open and shut. To have such a +doll as this had been the great desire of Nelly's heart for years. +There was also a beautiful little leather trunk full of clothes for +the doll, and four little band-boxes, each with a hat or bonnet in +it. There was a bedstead for her to sleep in, and a pretty red +arm-chair for her to sit in, and a play piano, which could make a +little real music. Then there were four beautiful new books, and +ever so many pretty little paper boxes with different sorts of candy +in them: all white candy; Mrs. March never gave her children any +colored candies. + +Rob had a beautiful kaleidoscope, mounted with a handle to turn it +round by; it was about as long as Nelly's doll, and as he drew it +out he couldn't imagine what it was. Then he had a geographical +globe, and a paint-box, and four new volumes of Mayne Reid's +stories, and the same number of boxes of candy which Nelly had. + +You never saw two happier children than Rob and Nelly were for the +next half-hour. They forgot all about the cold, about Sarah, and +about having had to wait so long. For half an hour, all that was to +be heard in the room were exclamations from one to the other, such +as:-- + +"Oh, Nell! see this picture!" + +"Oh, Rob! look at this lovely bonnet!" + +"Nell, this is the splendidest one of all." + +"This doll is bigger than Mary Pratt's: I know it is. Oh, Rob! don't +you suppose it must have cost a lot of money?" + +At last Mrs. March came back into their room, looking very much +annoyed. + +"Well, children," she said, "we're going to have a droll sort of +Christmas. Sarah is so fast asleep we can't wake her up, and your +papa thinks she must be drunk. We shall have to cook our Christmas +dinner ourselves. How will you like that?" + +"Oh, splendid, mamma, splendid! Let us get right up now," cried both +the children, eagerly laying down their playthings. + +"No," said Mrs. March. "Rob must not get up yet: it is too cold; but +you may get up, Nell, and help me get breakfast. Can you leave your +new dolly?" + +"Oh, yes, mamma!" cried Nelly, "indeed I can." And laying the dolly +carefully between the bed-clothes with her head on the pillow, she +kissed her, and said, "Good-by, dear Josephine Harriet: you won't be +very long alone. I will come back soon." + +Rob burst out laughing. "What a name!" he said, mimicking Nelly. +"Josephine Harriet! whoever heard such a name?" + +"I think it's a real pretty name, Rob," replied Nelly. "Boys don't +know any thing about dolls names. Besides, she is named for two +people: Josephine is for that poor, dear, beautiful Empress that +mamma told us about; I've always thought since then if ever I had a +doll handsome enough, I'd name her after her. And Harriet is after +Hatty Pratt. I love Hatty dearly, and she's named two dolls after +me." + +"Well, I shall call the doll the Empress, then," said Rob, in a tone +intended to be very sarcastic. + +"Yes; so shall I," replied Nelly: "I thought of that. It will sound +very nice." + +Rob looked a little disappointed. He thought it would tease Nelly to +have her doll called "The Empress." + +"No: I think I'll call her Mrs. Napoleon," said he. + +"Well," said Nelly, "I suppose that would do,"--Nelly had not the +least idea that Rob was making fun of her,--"but I don't believe +they ever call the real Empress so. I don't remember it in the +story. I'll ask mamma. I think Mrs. Napoleon is a beautiful name: +don't you, Rob?" + +By this time Rob was too deep in the "Cliff Climbers"--one of his +new books--to answer; and Nelly was all dressed ready to go +downstairs. As she left the room, Rob called out:-- + +"I say, Nell, tell mamma I don't want any breakfast. I'd rather stay +in bed and read this story." + +It was a very droll Christmas-day, but the children always said it +was one of the very pleasantest they ever spent. It turned out that +the cook was really in a heavy drunken sleep. She had been partly +under the influence of liquor when she went to bed the night before. +That was the reason she had asked Nelly where they would be sleeping +in the morning. She did not know what she was saying when she said +that. Mr. March went and brought a doctor to look at her in her +sleep, for they were afraid it might be apoplexy; but the doctor +only laughed, and said:-- + +"Pshaw! The woman's drunk. Let her alone. She'll wake up by noon." + +Mr. and Mrs. March felt very unhappy about this, for Sarah had lived +with them two years, and had never done such a thing before. She did +not wake up by noon, as the doctor had said. She did not wake up +till nearly night; and, when she went downstairs, there were Mrs. +March and Nelly and Rob in the kitchen, all at work. Mrs. March and +Nelly were washing the dishes, and Rob was cleaning the knives. They +had cooked the dinner and eaten it, and cleared every thing away. +Sarah dropped into a chair, and looked from one to the other without +speaking. + +"Hullo!" said Rob, "you cooked us a nice Christmas dinner: didn't +you? We'd have never had any if we'd waited for you." + +"Do you feel sick now, Sarah?" said good-hearted little Nelly. + +Sarah did not speak. Her brain was not yet clear. She looked +helplessly from Mrs. March to the children, and from the children to +Mrs. March. Then she rose and walked unsteadily to the table, and +tried to take the towel out of Nelly's hands. + +"Let me wipe the dishes," she said: "my head's better now." + +"No, Sarah," said Mrs. March, sternly. "Go back to your room. You're +not yet fit to be on your feet." + +The children wondered very much that their mamma, who was usually so +kind, should speak so sternly to Sarah; but they asked no questions. +They were too full of the excitement of doing all the work, and +looking at their presents, and talking about them. The hours flew by +so quickly that it was dark before they knew it; and, when they went +to bed, they both exclaimed together:-- + +"Oh, Nell!" and "Oh, Rob! hasn't it been a splendid Christmas!" + +They remembered it for a great many years, for it was the last +Christmas they spent in their pleasant home at Mayfield. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +A TALK ABOUT LEAVING MAYFIELD + + +The next day a big snow fell. It was one of those snows which fall +so thick and fast and fine, that when you look out of the windows it +seems as if great white sheets were being let down from the skies. +When Rob first waked and saw this snow falling, he exclaimed:-- + +"Hurrah! here's a bully snow-storm! Now we'll get some snow-balling. +Say, Nell, won't you help me build a real big snow-fort with high +walls that we can stand behind, and fire snow-balls at the boys?" + +"Oh, Rob!" said Nelly, "I'm afraid mamma won't let you play in the +snow yet: your throat isn't well enough; but by next week I think it +will be. We'll have snow right along now all winter." + +"Oh, dear!" said Rob, fretfully: "there it is again. I can't ever do +any thing I want to." + +"Why, Rob," replied Nelly, "aren't you ashamed of yourself, with +that lovely kaleidoscope and all those books? I shouldn't think +you'd want to go out to-day. I'm sure I don't. I'd rather stay at +home with Mrs. Napoleon and the rest of my dolls all day than go +anywhere,--that is, unless it was to take a sleigh-ride. Mamma said +perhaps, if it stopped snowing, papa might take us on a sleigh-ride +this afternoon." + +"Did she?" exclaimed Rob; "oh, bully! But then I suppose I can't +go," he added, in a quite altered tone. + +"Oh, yes! you can," answered Nelly, "mamma said so. I heard her +tell papa it would do you good to go well wrapped up." + +"I hate to be bundled up so," said Rob. "It's as hot as fury; and, +besides, it makes the boys laugh; last time I went out so, Ned +Saunders he stood on his father's store steps, when we stopped +there,--mamma wanted to buy a broom,--and Ned called out, 'By-by, +baby bunting, where's your little rabbit skin?' I shan't go if mamma +makes me wear that red shawl, so!" and Rob's face was the picture of +misery. + +Nelly's cheeks flushed at the thought of the insulting taunt to Rob +which was conveyed in that quotation from Mother Goose: but she was +a very wise and clear-headed little girl, as you have no doubt +discovered before this time, and she knew much better than to let +Rob think she felt as he did about it; so all she said was, "I don't +care: I shouldn't mind. If Ned Saunders had the sore throat, he'd +have to be wrapped up just the same way. Boys are a great deal +hatefuller than girls. No girl would ever say such a thing as that +to a girl if she was sick, or to a boy either." + +"No, I don't suppose they would," said Rob, reflectively. "Girls are +nicer than boys some ways: that's a fact." + +In the excitement of the Christmas presents, and the getting of the +Christmas dinner, and all the housework which had to be done +afterward, Nelly had forgotten about the conversation which she had +overheard in the night between her father and mother. But in the +quiet of this stormy morning it all came back to her. She and Rob +were spending the forenoon in the place which they liked best in all +the house, their mother's room. It was a beautiful sunny chamber, +with two big bay-windows in it,--one looking to the south, and one +to the west; the south window looked out on the garden, and the west +window looked out on a great pine grove which was only a few rods +away from the house; on the east side of the room was the fireplace +with a low grate set in it; the fire burned better in this fireplace +than in any other in the house, the children thought. That was +because they had a nice time every night, sitting down a while in +front of this fire and talking with their mother. This was the time +when they told her things they didn't quite like to tell in the +daytime; and this was the time she always took to tell them things +she was anxious they should remember. They associated all their +talks with the bright open fire; and, whenever they saw the flames +of soft coal leaping up and shining, they remembered a great many +things their mother had said to them. + +There was a large old-fashioned mahogany table on one side of this +room, which Mrs. March used for cutting out work, and which the +children liked better than any thing in the room. It had droll +twisted legs which ended in knobs and castors, and it had big leaves +fastened on with brass hinges which opened and shut; when these +leaves were open the table was so big that both Rob and Nelly could +be up on it at once, and have plenty of room for their things. This +morning their mother had let them open it out to its full size, and +push it close up in one corner of the room, so that the walls made a +fine back for them to lean against. Nelly sat on one side, with all +her dolls ranged in a row against the wall, Mrs. Napoleon at the +head. In front of her, she had all their clothes in one great pile, +and was sorting and arranging them in the little bureau and trunk +and boxes in which she kept them. Rob sat opposite her with his feet +on a blanket shawl, so that they would not scratch the mahogany; he +was reading the "Cliff Climbers," and every few minutes he would +break out with:-- + +"This is the most splendid story of all yet." + +"Nell, look at this picture of them going up over the cliff by +ropes. Oh, don't I just wish I could go to some such place!" + + +[Illustration: Nelly sat on one side with all her dolls ranged in a +row against the wall. _Page 20_] + + +After a while, Nelly leaned her head back against the wall, and +stopped playing with her dolls. She looked at the snow-storm +outside, and the bright fire in the grate, and exclaimed, "Oh, +mamma! isn't it nice here?" + +There was something in Nelly's tone which made her mother look up +surprised. + +"Why, yes, dear; of course it is nice here; it is always nice here; +what made you think of it just now?" + +Nelly March was one of the honestest little girls that ever lived. +Nothing seemed to her so dreadful as a lie; but she came very near +telling one now. + +"I don't know, mamma," she said; but, almost before the words were +out of her mouth, she added:-- + +"Yes, I do know, too; I meant I didn't want to tell." + +"Why not? my little daughter," said Mrs. March, looking much +puzzled. "Surely it cannot be any thing you do not want mamma to +know." + +"Oh, no, mamma! it is something you didn't want me to know," said +Nelly hastily, turning very red. + +"Something I didn't want you to know, Nell," she said. "What do you +mean? And how did you know it then?" + +"She listened, she listened," cried Rob, throwing down his book, +"and she wouldn't tell me a thing either, and she was real mean." + +The tears came into Nelly's eyes, and Mrs. March looked very sternly +at Rob. + +"Rob," she said, "telling tales is as mean as listening: I'm ashamed +of you. Nell, what does he mean?" + +Poor Nelly was almost crying. + +"Indeed, mamma," she exclaimed, "I didn't listen; and I told Rob +then I didn't; he's told a lie, a wicked lie, and he ought to be +punished, mamma; he knows it's a lie." + +"It ain't either," shouted Rob, "if you didn't listen how'd you +hear? She did listen, mamma, and now she's told a lie too." + +Mrs. March threw down her sewing, and walked quickly across the room +to the table where the children were sitting. She put one hand on +Nelly's head, and one on Rob's. + +"My dear children," she said, "you shock me. Do think what you are +saying: this is a bad beginning for the new year." + +"'Tain't New Year yet for a week," muttered Rob. "This needn't +count." + +Mrs. March laughed in spite of herself. + +"Every thing counts, Rob, which we do, whether it is the beginning +of a New Year or not. Mamma ought not to have spoken as if that made +any odds. But you must not accuse each other of lying. That is a +most dreadful thing. I know neither of you would tell a lie." + +"Course we wouldn't," cried both the children. + +"Neither would Nelly listen, Rob, in any such sense as you meant," +continued Mrs. March. "Sometimes we over-hear things when we do not +mean to." + +"That's just the way it was, mamma," interrupted Nelly eagerly; "and +I told Rob so: it was in the night, night before last, and you and +papa were talking, and I was awake, and I could not help hearing, +and I coughed as loud as I could for you to hear." + +"Oh," said Mrs. March, "that is it, is it? I remember you coughed, +and I shut the door. I did not think you were awake, but I was +afraid we should waken you. We were talking about going away from +this place." + +"Yes, mamma," said Nelly, in a sad tone. + +"Going away! Oh, mamma, are we really going away? oh, where? say +where, mamma, say quick!" cried Rob, throwing down his "Cliff +Climbers," and springing from the table to the floor at one bound. + +"Gently, gently, wild boy," said Mrs. March, catching Rob by one arm +and drawing him into her lap. In spite of all Rob's ill temper and +selfishness, I think Mrs. March loved him a little better than she +loved Nelly. Neither Nelly nor Rob dreamed of this, and perhaps Mrs. +March never was conscious of it herself; but other people could see +it. + +"Why, Rob," she said, "would you be glad to go away from this house, +and the grove, and the pond, and from all your friends, and go to +live in a strange place where you didn't know anybody?" + +Rob's face sobered. + +"To stay, mamma?" he said, "to stay always?" + +Nelly did not speak. She knew more about this matter than Rob did. +She watched her mother's face very earnestly and sadly, and tears +filled her eyes when Mrs. March answered:-- + +"I am afraid so, Rob: if we go I do not believe we shall ever come +back. I didn't mean to let you know any thing about it till it was +all settled. But, since you have heard something about it, I will +tell you all I know myself. Come here, Nelly; both of you sit down +now at my feet, and I will talk to you about it." + +Nelly and Rob sat down on two low crickets by their mother's knee, +and looked up in her face without speaking. They felt that something +very serious was coming. Before Mrs. March began to speak, she +kissed them both several times, then she said:-- + +"There is one thing I am very sure of: both my little children will +be brave and good, if hard times come." + +"Oh, mamma! tell us quick; don't bother," interrupted impatient Rob, +"let's know what it is quick, mamma. Are we going to be awful poor, +like the people in story books? I don't care if we are, if that's +all. Let's have it over." + +Mrs. March laughed again: one reason she loved Rob so much was that +his temper was so much like her own. It had been very hard for her +herself to learn to be patient, and to be sufficiently moderate in +her speech; and even now there was nothing in the world she disliked +so much as suspense of any kind. She could make up her mind to +endure almost any thing, if only it were fixed and settled. So when +Rob burst out with impatient speeches like this one, she knew +exactly how he felt. And sometimes when Nelly took things quietly +and calmly, and was so deliberate in all her movements, Mrs. March +misunderstood her, and thought she did not really care about any +thing half as much as Rob did. But the truth was, Nelly really cared +a great deal more about almost everything, than he did. He forgot +things in a day, or an hour even; sad things, pleasant things, all +alike: they blew away from Rob's memory and Rob's heart like leaves +in a great wind, and he never thought much more about any thing than +just whether he liked it or disliked it at the moment. The phrase he +used to his mother just now was very often on his lips, "Oh, don't +bother!" Especially he used to say this to Nelly whenever she tried +to reason with him about something which she thought not quite right +or not quite safe. You would have thought to hear them talk that +Nelly was at least five years older than he: she talked to him like +a little mother. At this moment, when Rob was hurrying his mother so +impatiently, Nelly exclaimed, "Oh, hush, Rob! do let mamma tell it +as she wants to;" and Nelly drew up close to her mother's side, and +laid her cheek down on her mother's hand. Nelly's heart was as full +as it could be of sympathy: she knew that her mother felt very +unhappy about going away, and Nelly's way of showing her sympathy +was to be very loving and tender and quiet; but, strange as it may +seem, this did not comfort and help Mrs. March so much as Rob's +off-hand and impatient way. + +"Well, but she's so slow: ain't you slow, mamma? And it's horrid to +wait," replied Rob. + +"Yes, Rob," laughed Mrs. March. "I am rather slow, and it is horrid +to wait; but I won't be slow any longer: this is what papa and I +were talking about the other night,--about going out to Colorado to +live." + +"Colorado! where's that? Is it anywhere near the Himalayas?" cried +Rob. "If it is, I'd like to go; oh, I'd like to go ever so much." + +Mrs. March laughed out loud. "Oh you droll Rob," she said. "No, it's +nowhere near the Himalayas; but there are mountains there about as +high as the Himalayas,--higher than any other mountains in America." + +"Are there elephants?" said Rob. "I wouldn't mind about any thing if +there are only elephants." + +"Rob, how can you!" burst out Nelly, with a vehemence very unusual +in her. "How can you! It's because papa's sick that we are going." + +"Why, what's the matter with papa?" said Rob, wonderingly. + +Mr. March had been a sufferer from asthma for so many years that no +one any longer thought of him as an invalid. He was very rarely +confined to the house, and, except in the summer, his asthma did not +give him a great deal of trouble; but in the summer it was so bad +that for weeks he was not able to preach at all: I believe I have +forgotten all this time to tell you that he was a minister. I have +been so busy talking about Nelly and Rob, that I have hardly told +you any thing about their papa and mamma. + +Mr. March had been settled in this village of Mayfield for fifteen +years, and the people loved him so much that they would not hear of +having any other minister. When his asthma was so bad that he could +not preach, they hired some one else; always in the summer they gave +him a two-months' vacation; and, whenever any stranger said any +thing unkind about his asthmatic voice, they always replied, "If Mr. +March couldn't preach in any thing more than a whisper, we'd rather +hear him than any other man living." The truth was, that they had +grown so accustomed to the asthmatic, wheezy tone, that they did not +notice it. It really was very unpleasant to a stranger's ear, and +everybody wondered how a whole congregation of people could endure +it. But it is wonderful how much love can do to reconcile us to +disagreeable things in the people we love; and not only to reconcile +us to them, but to make us forget them entirely. Nelly and Rob never +thought but that their father's voice was as pleasant as anybody's: +when his breath came very short and quick, they knew he was +suffering, but at other times they did not remember any thing about +his having asthma; this was the reason that Rob said so wonderingly +now:-- + +"Why, what is the matter with papa?" + +Mrs. March's voice was very sad as she replied:-- + +"Only his asthma, dear, which he has had so many years, but it is +growing much worse; and we have seen a gentleman lately who has come +from Colorado, and he says that people never have asthma at all +there, and the doctor says if papa does not go to some such climate +to live, he will get worse and worse, so that he will not be able to +do any thing. You don't know how much poor papa suffers, even here. +He has not been able to lie down in bed for almost a year now; ever +since early last summer." + +"Not lie down!" exclaimed Nelly, "why, what does he do, mamma? How +does he sleep?" + +"He sleeps propped up with pillows, dear, almost as straight as he +would be in a chair," replied Mrs. March. + +"Oh, dear," cried Rob, "isn't that awful! Why didn't you ever tell +us, mamma? Isn't he awful tired? What makes people not have asthma +in Colorado, anyhow?" + +"Which question first, Rob?" said Mrs. March. "I haven't told you, +because papa dislikes very much to have any thing said about it. +Yes: he is very tired all the time. He never feels rested in the +morning as you do. I don't know why people never have asthma in +Colorado; but I think it must be because the air is so very dry +there. They never have any rain there from October to April, and the +country is very high; some of the towns where people live are twice +as high as the highest mountains you ever saw." + +"Mamma!" exclaimed Rob, with so loud and earnest a voice that both +Mrs. March and Nelly gave a little jump. "Mamma, if it's the being +so high up that does the good, why couldn't we go to the Himalayas +instead? Oh, it's perfectly splendid there! just let me read you +about it," and Rob ran back to the table for his "Cliff Climbers," +and was about to begin to read aloud from it. Mrs. March could not +help laughing: and Nelly laughed too; for Nelly, although she was no +older than Rob, was very much ahead of him in her studies at school, +and she knew very well where the Himalaya mountains were, and that +there would be no way of living there comfortably even if it were +not quite too far to go. + +"But, Rob,--" began Mrs. March. + +"You just wait till I read you, mamma," interrupted Rob; "you +haven't read the 'Cliff Climbers,' and you don't know any thing +about it. Perhaps the doctors don't know how many good things grow +there; and the mountains are five miles high, some of them. I'm sure +papa couldn't have the asthma as high up as that: could he?" + +"My dear little boy," said Mrs. March, putting her hand on the book +and shutting it up, "you are always too hasty: you must stop and +listen. Nobody could live five miles up in the air. That would be as +much too high as this is too low; and things which sound very fine +to read about would be very inconvenient in real life." + +"Yes," interrupted Rob, "an elephant tore down their cabin one +night,--just tramped right over it, and smashed it all flat as we +would an ant-hill. That wouldn't be very nice: but we needn't live +where the elephants come; we could just go out to hunt them in the +summer." + +Rob's eyes were dark blue, and when he was eager and excited they +seemed to turn black, and to be twice their usual size. He was so +eager now that his eyes were fairly dancing in his head. He was +possessed of this idea about going to live in the Himalaya +mountains, and nothing could stop him. + +"They're all heathen there too, mamma, and wouldn't papa like that? +He could preach to them, don't you know? Oh, it would be splendid! +and I could collect seeds just like these cliff climbers, and stuff +birds, and make lots of money sending them back to this country." + +"Oh, Rob!" exclaimed Nelly, at last; "do stop talking, and let mamma +talk: she hasn't half told us yet. It's all nonsense about the +Himalayas. We couldn't go there; nobody goes there. I'll just show +you on your new globe where it is, and you can see for yourself." So +saying, Nelly ran for the globe, and was proceeding to show Rob what +a long journey round the world it would be to reach the Himalayas; +but Rob pushed the globe away. + +"I don't care any thing about the old globe," he said; "people do go +there, for Mayne Reid's books are all true; he says they are, and it +isn't all nonsense about the Himalayas; is it, mamma? Couldn't we go +there?" + +Rob was fast growing angry. + +"No, Rob," said Mrs. March: "we cannot go to the Himalayas to live; +that is very certain. One of these days, when you're a man, I hope +you will be able to go all about the world and see all these +countries you are so fond of reading about: you will have to wait +till then for the Himalayas. If we go away from home at all, we must +go to Colorado. That is quite far enough: it will take us four whole +days and five nights, going just as fast as the cars can go, to get +there." + +"I don't care where we go, if we can't go to the Himalayas," said +Rob, sulkily. "I think it's real mean if we've got to go away not to +go there. I know it would be real good for papa." + +Mrs. March laughed again very heartily. + +"Rob," she said, "you are a very queer little boy. Mamma can't +understand how you get so excited over things in such a short time. +A few minutes ago you had never thought of such a thing as going to +the Himalayas; and here you are already sure that it would be good +for papa to go there. Why, even the doctors are not sure what would +be good for papa! It is very hard to tell." + +"Does it really take four whole days and five nights to get to +Colorado?" asked Rob. He had already given up the idea of the +Himalayas, and was beginning to think about Colorado. Rob's mind +moved from one thing to another as quickly as a weathercock when the +wind is shifting. + +"Yes: four whole days and five nights," said Mrs. March; "or else +four nights and five days, according to the time you start." + +"Five days! days! Let's start so as to make it come five days; so as +to see all we can," exclaimed Rob. "That's splendid! When will we +start, mamma?" + +"It isn't really sure, is it, mamma, that we are to go?" asked +Nelly, who had hardly had a chance yet to speak a word: Rob had been +talking so fast. "Does papa want to go?" + +You see how much more thoughtful Nelly was for other people than for +herself. All Rob was thinking of was what good times might come of +this journey; but Nelly was thinking how hard it was for her papa +and mamma to break up their pleasant home, and how sad it might be +for all of them to go to live among strangers. + +"No, dear," said Mrs. March. "Papa does not want to go at all. It is +very hard for him to make up his mind to do it. And I do not want to +go either, except on papa's account: but we would go anywhere in the +world that would make papa well; wouldn't we?" + +"Yes, indeed," said Nelly, earnestly. + +"Why doesn't papa want to go?" cried Rob. "There'll be plenty of +people there to preach to: won't there? And that's all papa cares +for." + +"Papa doesn't like to leave all these people here that he has +preached to for so many years: he loves them all very much," replied +Mrs. March; "and he does not expect to preach any more if he goes to +Colorado. There are not a great many villages there; it is chiefly a +wild new country: people live on great farms and keep large herds of +sheep or of cows; and the doctor wants papa to be a farmer and work +out of doors, and not live in his study among his books any more." + +"Be a farmer like Uncle Alonzo?" exclaimed Nelly. "Oh, mamma, +wouldn't that be nice? and wouldn't papa like that? He always has a +good time when he goes to Uncle Alonzo's. He says it makes him feel +as if he was a boy again. And oh, mamma, the cows are beautiful. +Don't you like cows, mamma?" + +Nelly was now almost as excited as Rob. She had been several times +to make a visit at her Uncle Alonzo's house. He was a rich farmer, +and had big barns, and fields full of raspberries and huckleberries, +and a beautiful pine grove close to the house; and he had nearly a +hundred cows, and used to make butter and cheese to sell, and both +Nelly and Rob thought there was nothing so delightful in the whole +world as to stay at Uncle Alonzo's. + +"No, dear," said Mrs. March. "I can't honestly say I do like cows. I +am so silly as to be afraid of them. But I like your Uncle Alonzo's +farm very much." + +"Oh, mamma, how can you be afraid of a cow!" cried Rob. "They never +hurt you." + +"I suppose it's because I am a coward, Rob," answered Mrs. March; +"but I can't help it. I was chased by a bull once when I was a girl; +and, ever since then, I have been afraid of any thing which has +horns on its head." + +"Is that what the word coward comes from, mamma?" asked Rob: "does +it mean to be afraid of a cow?" + +"I guess not, Rob," said Mrs. March, laughing. "Don't begin to make +puns, Rob: it is a bad habit." + +"Puns!" said Rob, much surprised; "what is a pun?" + +Then Mrs. March tried to explain to Rob what a pun was, but it was +very hard work; and I don't think Rob understood, after all her +explanations, so I shall not try to explain it to you here; but I +dare say a great many of you understand what a pun is, and, if you +do, you will see that Rob had accidentally made rather a good pun, +for a little boy only twelve years old, when he asked if a coward +was a person afraid of a cow. + +Presently the dinner-bell rang. + +"Why, mamma," exclaimed both the children, "it isn't dinner-time, is +it?" + +"Yes, it really is," said Mrs. March, looking at her watch: "I had +no idea it was so late. Where has the morning gone to?" + +"Gone to Colorado," exclaimed Rob, running downstairs, "gone to +Colorado! Hurrah for Colorado." + +"By way of the Himalayas," said Nelly behind him, as they ran +downstairs. + +"Be still, Nell, can't you," said Rob, half vexed, half laughing. "I +haven't been in Geography half so long as you have. We haven't come +to the Himalayas yet." + +Mr. March was just coming in at the front-door. He was so covered +with snow that he looked like a snow-man; and as he stamped his feet +on the door-mat, and shook off the snow from his overcoat and hat +and beard, there seemed to be quite a snow-storm in the hall. + +"Hurrah for Colorado," he repeated. "What does that mean? Who is +going to Colorado?" + +"All of us, papa; all of us, papa," cried Rob. "Mamma's told us all +about it, so you can't keep it a secret any longer." + +Mr. March looked up inquiringly at Mrs. March, who was coming down +the stairs behind Nelly and Rob. + +"Yes," she said, in answer to his inquiring look. "Yes. I have told +the children all about it, and they are both wild to go, though Rob +thinks the Himalayas would be a better place for you." + +Mr. March burst into a loud laugh. + +"The Himalayas!" he exclaimed. "Why, what do you know about the +Himalayas, my boy?" + +It was rather too bad to laugh at Rob so much about his idea of the +Himalayas, I think; because almost any boy who had just been reading +Captain Mayne Reid's "Cliff Climbers," would think that there could +be nothing in this life half so fine to do as to go to the Himalayas +to live. Rob took it very good-naturedly this time, however. + +"Not any thing, papa," he replied, "except what is in that book you +gave me, the 'Cliff Climbers;' but that says some of the mountains +are five miles high, and I thought that would cure the asthma, to go +up as high as that. Mamma says that's what we are going to Colorado +for, to get up high, to cure your asthma." + +"Papa, we're so glad to go if it will make you better," said Nelly, +taking hold of her father's hand with both of hers. Mr. March +stooped over and kissed Nelly on her forehead. + +"I know you are," he said: "you are papa's own little comfort +always." + +Mr. March loved both of his children very dearly; but Nelly gave him +more pleasure than Rob did. He often said to his wife when they were +alone: "Nelly never gives me a moment's anxiety. The child has all +the traits which will make her a noble and a useful and a happy +woman; but I am not so sure about Rob. I am afraid we shall have +trouble with him." And Mrs. March always replied: "It is very true +all you say about Nelly. She is a thoroughly good child; but you are +quite mistaken about Rob. He is very hasty and impulsive; but he +will come out all right. He has twice Nelly's cleverness, though he +is so backward about his books. You'll see." + +"I'm glad too, papa," cried Rob, "just as glad as any thing. It will +be splendid to live on a farm. Shall you wear blue overalls like +Uncle Alonzo? And will you let me help milk? And can't I have a bull +pup? I'm going to call him Caesar." + +"Well, upon my word, young people," said Mr. March; and he looked at +his wife when he spoke, "you seem to have got this thing pretty well +settled between you. I don't know that we are going to Colorado at +all: after dinner we will all sit down together and talk it over. +I've got a letter here"--and he took a big envelope out of his +pocket--"from a gentleman I wrote to in Colorado, and he has sent +me some pictures of different places there, and of some of the +strange rocks. We can't have our sleigh-ride this afternoon; it is +not going to stop snowing: so we may as well take a journey to +Colorado on paper; perhaps it will be the only way we shall ever +go." + +Rob and Nelly could hardly eat their dinner: they were so eager to +see the Colorado pictures and to hear all about the country. + +As Mr. March looked at their eager faces, he sighed, and thought to +himself:-- + +"Dear little souls! They have no idea of what is before them if we +go to Colorado. It is as well they haven't." + +"What makes you look so sad, papa?" said Nelly. + +"Did I look sad, Nelly?" replied Mr. March. "I didn't mean to. I was +thinking how delighted you and Rob seemed at the idea of going to +Colorado, and thinking that you would probably find it very +different from what you expect. You would not be so comfortable +there as you are here." + +"Isn't there enough to eat out there?" asked Rob, anxiously. + +"Oh, yes!" said Mr. March, laughing, "plenty to eat." + +"Well, that's all I care for," said Rob. "Oh, papa, do hurry! you +never ate your dinner so slow before. I've been done ever so long. +Can't I be excused, and go and read till you're ready to show us the +pictures?" + +"Yes," said Mrs. March, "you may both go up into my room; and, as +soon as papa and I have finished our dinner, we will come up there +and have our talk." + +Mrs. March wished to have a little conversation alone with her +husband before their talk with the children. She told him about +Nelly's having accidentally overheard what they were saying in the +night; "so I thought I would tell them all about it," she said. + +"Certainly, certainly," said Mr. March. "There is no reason they +should not know. Even if we do not go, no harm can come of it." + +Then she told him of the obstinate notion Rob had taken into his +head about the Himalayas, and how hard it had been to convince him +that they ought not to set off for those mountains at once. Mr. +March was laughing very heartily over this as they went up the +stairs, and, as they entered the room, Rob said:-- + +"What are you and mamma laughing so about, papa?" + +Mrs. March gave her husband a meaning look, intended to warn him not +to tell Rob that they were laughing at him; but Mr. March did not +understand her glance. + +"Laughing at your fierce desire to start off for the Himalayas, +Rob," he said. + +"I don't care," said Rob: "I'm going there some day. You just read +the 'Cliff Climbers,' and see if you don't think so too. I'll take +you and mamma and Nell there when I'm a man and have money enough; +see if I don't." + +"Well, well, Rob, we'll go when that time comes, if we're not too +old when you're rich enough to pay all that the journey costs. I've +always thought I should like to go round the world," said Mr. March; +"but now we'll look at the Colorado pictures." + +Then they sat down, Mr. and Mrs. March on the lounge in front of the +fire, Nelly in her father's lap, and Rob perched up on the back of +the lounge behind his mother, so that he could look over her +shoulder. + +The first picture Mr. March took out of the envelope was one which +looked like the picture of two gigantic legs and feet wrong side up. + +"Oh, what big feet!" exclaimed Rob. "Do giants live in Colorado?" + +Mr. March turned the picture the other side up. + +"They are rocks, Rob," he said, "not feet; but they do look like +feet, that's a fact. These are some of the rocks in a place called +Monument Park, because it is so full of these queer rocks. Here are +some more of them: they are of very strange shapes. Here are some +that look like women walking with big hoop-skirts on, and some like +posts with round caps on their heads; and here is a picture of a +place where so many of these rocks are scattered among the trees, +that they look like people walking about. Here is one group which +has been called the 'Quaker Wedding.'" + +"Oh, let me see that! let me see that!" exclaimed Nelly. "How queer +to call rocks Quakers!" + +"I don't see that they look very much like men and women, after +all," added she as she studied the picture; "but they don't look +like any rocks I ever saw. I think I should be afraid of them. They +look alive." + +"Pooh!" said Rob, "I shouldn't be. Rocks can't stir. Show us some +more, papa." + +The next pictures were of beautiful waterfalls: there were three of +them,--one of seven falls, one above the other, and one of a +beautiful fall, very narrow, hemmed in between rocks, with tall +pine-trees growing about it. The next was of a high mountain with +snow half way down its sides, and a great many lower mountains all +around it. This was called Pike's Peak. + +"Oh, papa!" said Nelly, "could we live where we could see that +mountain all the time?" + +"Perhaps so, Nell," answered her father, smiling at her eagerness: +"would you like to?" + +Nelly was looking at the picture intently, and did not reply for a +moment. Then she said:-- + +"Papa, I think it would keep us good all the time to look at that +mountain." + +"Why, Nell," said her mother, "I didn't know you cared so much for +mountains. You never said so." + +"I never saw a real mountain before," said Nelly. "This isn't a bit +like Mount Saycross." + +The town of Mayfield was in one of the pleasantest counties in +Massachusetts. The region was very beautifully wooded and had +several small rivers in it, and one range of low hills called the +Saycross Hills; the highest of these was perhaps three thousand feet +high, and Nelly had spent many a day on its top: but she had never +seen any thing which gave her any idea of the grandeur of a high +mountain till she saw this picture of Pike's Peak. It seemed as if +she could not take her eyes away from this picture: she looked at it +as one looks at the picture of the face of a friend. + +"Oh papa!" she exclaimed at last, "let me have this picture for my +own: won't you? I'll be very, very careful of it." + +"Yes, you may have it if you want it so much," replied Mr. March, +"but be very sure not to lose it. I may want to show it to some one, +any day." + +"I won't lose it, papa," said Nelly, in a tone of so much feeling +that her father looked at her in surprise. + +"Why, Nell," he said, "you must be a born mountaineer I think." + +And so she was. From the day she first looked on this picture of +Pike's Peak till the day when she stood at the foot of the real +mountain itself, it was seldom out of her mind. She kept the little +card in the box with Mrs. Napoleon's best bonnet and gown, and she +talked so much about it that her father called her his "little +Pike's Peak girl." + +The rest of the pictures were of some of the towns in Colorado, some +ranches,--ranches is the word which the Coloradoans use instead of +farm,--and some beautiful canyons. A canyon is either a narrow +valley with very high steep sides to it, or a chasm between two +rocky walls. The most beautiful and wonderful things in Colorado are +the canyons; they all have streams of water running through them; in +fact, the canyons may be said to be roads which rivers and creeks +have made for themselves among the mountains. Sometimes the river +has cut a road for itself right down through solid rock, twelve +hundred feet deep. You can think how deep that must be, by looking +at the walls of the room you are sitting in, as you read this story. +Probably the walls of your room are about ten feet high. Now imagine +walls of rock one hundred and twenty times as high as that; and only +far enough apart for a small river to go through at the bottom; and +then imagine beautiful great pine-trees, and many sorts of shrubs +and flowers growing all the way down these sides, and along the +upper edges of them, and don't you see what a wonderful place a +canyon must be? You mustn't think either that they are just straight +up and down walls, such as a mason might build out of bricks, or +that they run straight in one direction for their whole length. They +are made up often of great rocks as big as houses piled one on top +of another, and all rough and full of points, and with big caves in +them; and they turn and twist, just as the river has turned and +twisted, to the north or south or east or west. Sometimes they take +such sharp turns that, when you look ahead, all you can see is the +big high wall right before you, and it looks as if you couldn't go +any farther; but, when you go a few steps nearer, you will see that +both the high walls bend off to the right or the left, and the river +is still running between them, and you can go right on. One of the +prettiest pictures which Mr. March's friend had sent him was of a +canyon called Boulder Canyon. It is named after the town of Boulder, +which is very near it. This is one of the most beautiful canyons in +all Colorado. It is very narrow, for the creek which made it is a +small creek; but the bed of the creek is full of great rocks, and +the creek just goes tumbling head over heels, if a creek can be said +to have head and heels. Ten miles long this canyon is, and the creek +is in a white foam all the way. There is just room for the road by +side of the creek; first one side and then the other. I think it +crosses the creek as many as twenty-five times in the ten miles; and +it is shaded all the way by beautiful trees, and flowers grow in +every crevice of the rocks, and along the edge of the water. As Rob +and Nelly looked at picture after picture of these beautiful places, +they grew more and more excited. Rob could not keep still: he jumped +down from his perch behind his mother's shoulder, and ran round to +his father's knee. "Papa, papa! say you'll go? say you'll go?" and +Nelly said in her quieter voice:-- + +"Oh papa! I didn't know there were such beautiful places in the +world. Don't you think we'll go?" + +Pretty soon it grew too dark to look at the pictures any longer, and +Mrs. March sent the children downstairs to play in the dining-room +by the fire-light. + +After they had gone, she said to her husband: "Doesn't it make you +more willing to go, Robert, to see how eager the children are for +it?" + +Mr. March sighed. + +"I do not know, Sarah," he said. "Their feelings are very soon +changed one way or the other. A little discomfort would soon make +them unhappy. I have great fears about the rough life out there, +both for them and for you." + +"I wish you would not think so much about that," replied Mrs. March. +"I am convinced that you exaggerate it. I am not in the least +afraid; and as for the children they are so young they would soon +grow accustomed to any thing. Of course there would be no danger of +our not being able to have good plain food; and that is the only +real necessity." + +"But you seem to forget, Sarah, about schools. How are we to educate +the children there?" + +"Teach them ourselves, Robert," replied Mrs. March earnestly. "It +will be better for them in every way. Such an out-door life as they +will lead there is ten times better than all the schools in the +world. Oh, Robert! if you can only be well and strong, we shall be +perfectly happy. I am as eager to go as the children are." + +Mrs. March had been from the beginning in favor of the move. In +fact, except for her, Mr. March would never have thought of it. He +was a patient and quiet man, and would have gone on bearing the +suffering of his asthma till he died, without thinking of the +possibility of escaping it by so great a change as the going to a +new country to live. It was well for him that he had a wife of a +different nature. Mrs. March had no patience with people who, as she +said, would "put up with any thing, rather than take trouble." Mrs. +March's way was never to "put up" with any thing which was wrong, +unless she had tried every possible way of righting it. Then, when +she was convinced that it couldn't be righted, she would make the +best of it, and not grumble or be discontented. Which way do you +think was the best?--Mr. March's or Mrs. March's? I think Mrs. +March's was; and I think Rob and Nelly were very fortunate children +to have a mother who taught them such a good doctrine of life. This +is the way she would have put it, if she had been going to write it +out in rules. + +First. If you don't like a thing, try with all your might to make it +as you do like it. + +Second. If you can't possibly make it as you like it, stop thinking +about it: let it go. + +There was a very wise man, who lived hundreds and hundreds of years +ago, who said very much the same thing, only in different words. I +don't know whether Mrs. March ever heard of him or not. His name was +Epictetus, and he was only a poor slave. But he said so many wise +things that men kept them and printed them in a book; and one of the +things he said was this:-- + +"There are things which are within our power, and there are things +which are beyond our power. Seek at once to be able to say to every +unpleasing semblance: 'You are but a semblance, and by no means the +real thing.' And then examine it by those rules which you have; and +first and chiefly by this: whether it concerns the things which are +within our own power, or those which are not; and if it concerns any +thing beyond our power, be prepared to say that it is nothing to +you." + +I think this would be a good rule for all of us to copy and pin up +on the door of our rooms, to read every morning before we go +downstairs. Some of the words sound a little hard to understand at +first: but after they are explained to you they wouldn't seem so; +and if we all lived up to this rule, we should always be contented. + +Late in the evening, after the children had gone to bed, as Mr. and +Mrs. March sat talking over their plans, there came a loud ring at +the door-bell. + +"I think that is Deacon Plummer," said Mr. March. "He said he would +come in to-night and talk over Colorado. He has been thinking for +some time of going out there; and, if we go, I think he will go +too." + +"Will he, really?" exclaimed Mrs. March. "And Mrs. Plummer? What a +help that would be!" + +"Yes, it would be a great advantage," said Mr. March. "He is the +best farmer in all this region, and as honest as the day is long; +and, queer as he is, I like him, I believe, better than any deacon +I've ever had." + +"And he likes you too," said Mrs. March. "I believe if he goes now, +it will be only to go with you; or, at least, partly for that. Mrs. +Plummer's health, I suppose, is one reason." + +"Yes, that is it," said Mr. March. "The doctors say she must go to +Florida next winter: she can't stand another of our winters here; +and Mr. Plummer says he'd rather break up altogether and move to a +new place, than be always journeying back and forth." + +Just as Mr. March pronounced these words, the door opened and Deacon +and Mrs. Plummer appeared. They were a very droll little couple: +they were very short and very thin and very wrinkled. Deacon Plummer +had little round black eyes, and Mrs. Plummer had little round blue +eyes. Deacon Plummer had thin black hair, which was very stiff, and +never would lie down flat, and Mrs. Plummer had very thin white +hair, which was as soft as a baby's, and always clung as close to +her head as if it had been glued on. It was so thin that the skin of +her head showed through, pink, in many places; and, except for the +little round knot of hair at the back, you might have taken it for a +baby's head. Deacon Plummer always spoke very fast and very loud, so +loud that at first you jumped, and wondered if he thought everybody +was deaf. Mrs. Plummer always spoke in a little fine squeaky voice, +and had to stop to cough every few minutes, so it took her a great +while to say any thing. Deacon Plummer very seldom smiled, and +looked quite fierce. Mrs. Plummer had a habit of smiling most of the +time, and looked so good-natured she looked almost silly. She was +not silly, however: she was sensible, and was one of the best +housekeepers and cooks in all Mayfield. She was famous for making +good crullers; and, whenever she came to Mr. March's house, she +always brought four crullers in her pocket,--two for Rob and two for +Nelly. As soon as she came into the room this night, she began +fumbling in her pocket, saying:-- + +"Good evening, Mrs. March. How do you do, Mr. March?" (cough, +cough). "I've brought a cruller" (cough, cough) "for the" (cough, +cough) "children. Dear me" (cough, cough), "they're crumbled up" +(cough, cough). "I got a leetle too much lard in 'em, jest a leetle, +and the leastest speck too much lard'll make 'em crumble like any +thing" (cough, cough); "but I reckon the crumbs'll taste good" +(cough, cough) "if they be crumbled" (cough, cough); and, going to +the table, she turned her pocket wrong side out, and emptied upon a +newspaper a large pile of small bits of cruller. "Do you think +they'll mind their being" (cough, cough) "crumbled up?" (cough, +cough) "'twas only my spectacle case" (cough, cough) "did it," she +said, looking anxiously at the crumbs. + +"Call 'em crumblers! call 'em crumblers," said Deacon Plummer, +laughing hard at his own joke, and rubbing his hands together before +the fire; "tell the children they're a new kind, called crumblers." + +"Oh! the children won't mind," said Mrs. March, politely, and she +brought a glass dish from the closet, and, filling it with the +crumbs, covered it with a red napkin, and set it on the sideboard. +"There," said she, "as soon as Rob comes downstairs in the morning, +he will peep into this dish, and the first thing he will say will +be, 'I know who's been here: Mrs. Plummer's been here. I know her +crullers.' That's what he always says when he finds your crullers on +the sideboard." + +Mrs. Plummer's little blue eyes twinkled with pleasure, so that the +wrinkles around their corners all folded together like the sticks of +an umbrella shutting up. + +"Does he now, really?" she said. "The dear little fellow! Children +always does like crullers." + +"Crumblers; call 'em crumblers," shouted the Deacon. "That's the +best name for 'em anyhow." + +"Well, Parson," he said, "how's Colorado? Heard any thing more? Me +an' my wife's gettin' more'n more inter the notion of goin', that +is, ef you go. We shan't pick up an' go off by ourselves; we're too +old, an' we ain't used enough to travellin': but ef you go, we go; +that's about fixed, ain't it, 'Lizy?" and he looked at his wife and +then at Mr. March and then at Mrs. March, with his queer little +quick, fierce glance, as if he had said something very warlike, and +everybody were going to contradict him at once. + +"Yes" (cough, cough), "I expect we'd better" (cough, cough) "go +'long; 't seems kinder" (cough, cough) "providential like our all +goin'" (cough, cough) "together so. Don't you think" (cough, cough) +"so, Mrs. March? Be ye sure" (cough, cough) "ye'd like to have us +go?" replied Mrs. Plummer. + +"Oh, yes, indeed!" said Mrs. March. "Mr. March was just speaking of +it when you came in how much he would like to have Deacon Plummer +go. Mr. March knows very little about farming, though he was brought +up on a farm, and he will be very glad of Deacon Plummer's help; and +I shall be very glad to see two Mayfield faces there. I expect to be +lonely sometimes." + +"Lonely, ma'am, lonely!" spoke up the Deacon: "can't be lonely, +ma'am. Don't think of such a thing, ma'am, with the youngsters, +ma'am, and me an' my wife, ma'am, an' the Parson. I'd like to see +you have a lonesome minnit, ma'am;" and the Deacon looked round on +them all again with his quick, fierce look. + +Mr. March laughed. "It seems to be shutting in all round us, Sarah, +to take us to Colorado: doesn't it?" + +"It isn't two hours," he continued, turning to Deacon Plummer, +"since the children left us to go to bed, with their heads so full +of Colorado and their desire to set out for the country immediately, +that I am afraid they haven't shut their eyes yet. And as for Nelly, +she's gone to bed with a picture of Pike's Peak in her hand." + +"Picture! Have ye got pictures of the country round about there?" +interrupted the Deacon. "I'd like to see 'em, Parson; so'd Elizy. +She was a wonderin' how 'twould look in them parts. She hain't +travelled none, Elizy hain't, since she was a gal. I hain't never +been much of a hand to stir away from home, an' I donno now what's +taken me so sudden to go so far away; but I expect it's +providential." + +Mr. March took the Colorado pictures out of the big envelope again, +and showed them to Deacon and Mrs. Plummer. They were as interested +in them as Rob and Nelly had been, and it made Mrs. March laugh to +think how much the old man and his wife, bending over the pictures, +looked like Rob and Nelly suddenly changed from ten years old to +sixty. Mrs. Plummer did not say much. Her spectacles were not quite +strong enough for her eyes. She had been for a whole year thinking +of getting a new pair, and she wished to-night she had done so, for +she could not see any thing in the stereoscope distinctly. But she +saw enough to fill her with wonder and delight, and make her +impatient to go to the country where there were such beautiful +sights to be seen. As for the Deacon, he could hardly contain +himself: in his excitement, he slapped Mr. March's knee, and +exclaimed:-- + +"By golly,--beg your pardon, sir,--but this must be the greatest +country goin'. It'd pay to go jest to see it, ef we didn't any more +'n look round 'n come right home again. Don't you think so, Elizy?" + +The enthusiasm of these good old people, and the eager wishes of the +children produced a great impression on both Mr. and Mrs. March. It +did really seem as if every thing showed that they ought to go; +and, before Deacon and Mrs. Plummer went home, it was about decided +that the plan should be carried out. + +Deacon Plummer was for starting immediately. + +"I'll jest turn the key in my house," he said, "'n start right +along; 'n you'd better do the same thing; we don't want to be left +without a roof to come back to ef things turns out different from +what we expect; ef we settle, we kin come back 'n sell out +afterwards; 'n the sooner we git there the better, afore the heavy +snows set in." + +"But they don't have heavy snows in Colorado, not in the part where +we are going," said Mr. March: "the cattle run out in the open +fields all winter." + +"You don't mean to tell me so!" exclaimed the Deacon. "What a +country to live in! I should think everybody'd go into raisin' +cattle afore anything else." + +"I think that is one of the best things to do there," replied Mr. +March. "I have already made up my mind to that. And there is nothing +I should enjoy more. And between your farming and my herds of +cattle, we ought to make a good living. Deacon, come round in the +morning and we'll talk it over more, and see what time it's best to +start." + +At breakfast the next morning, Mr. March told Rob and Nelly that it +was decided that they would move out to Colorado. The two children +received the news very differently. Nelly dropped her knife and +fork, and looked steadily in her father's face for a full minute: +her cheeks grew red, and she drew in a long breath, and said, "Oh! +oh!" That was all she said; but her face was radiant with happiness. +Rob bounded out of his chair, flew to his mother and gave her a +kiss, then to his father and gave him a great hug, and then he gave +a regular Indian war-whoop, as he ran back to his seat. + +"Rob! Rob! you must not be so boisterous," exclaimed his mother; but +she was laughing as hard as she could laugh, and Rob knew she was +not really displeased with him. + +"Oh Nell, Nell!" cried Rob, "isn't it splendid? why don't you say +any thing?" + +"I can't," replied Nelly. But her cheeks were growing redder and +redder every minute, and her father saw that tears were coming in +her eyes. + +"Why, Nell," he said, "you are not sorry, are you? I thought you +wanted to go." + +"Oh, so I do, papa," exclaimed Nelly; "I want to go so much that I +can't believe it." + +Mr. March smiled. He understood Nelly better than her mother did. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +OFF FOR COLORADO + + +It was finally decided that it would be best not to set out for +Colorado until the middle of March. There were many things to be +arranged and provided for, and Mr. March did not wish to leave the +people of his parish too suddenly. Afterward he wished that he had +gone away immediately, as soon as his decision was made; for the ten +weeks that he waited were merely ten long weeks of good-bye. +Everybody loved him, and was sorry he was going; and there was not a +day that somebody did not come in to hear the whole story over +again, why he was going, when he was going, where he was going, and +all about it. At last Mrs. March grew so tired of talking it all +over and over, that she said to people: "I really can't talk any +more about it. We are not going till the fifteenth of March, but I +wish it were to-morrow." After the first two or three weeks, Rob and +Nelly lost much of their interest in talking it over; two months +ahead seemed to them just as far off as two years; and they did not +more than half believe they would ever really go. But when the +packing began, all their old interest and enthusiasm returned, and +they could not keep quiet a moment. Nelly's great anxiety was to +decide whether she would better carry Mrs. Napoleon in her arms all +the way or let her go in a trunk. She said to her mother that she +really thought Mrs. Napoleon would go safer in her arms than +anywhere else. "You see, mamma, I should never lay her down a single +minute, and how could any thing happen to her then? But in the +trunk she would be shaken and jolted all the time." The truth was, +Nelly was very proud of Mrs. Napoleon, and she secretly had thought +to herself, "I expect there'll be a great many little girls in the +cars: in four whole days, there must be; and they would all like to +see such a beautiful doll." + +Mrs. March understood this feeling in Nelly perfectly well, and it +amused her very much to see how Nelly was trying to deceive herself +about it. + +"But, Nelly," she said, "the cars will be full of cinders and dust, +and they will be sure to stick to the wax. Her face would get dirty +in a single day, and you can't wash it as you do Pocahontas's. Don't +you think you'd better carry Pocahontas instead?" + +Pocahontas was Nelly's next best doll: she was the big one I told +you about; the one that was almost the size of a real live baby; the +one which was so big that it made Mrs. March first think of using +her father's great stockings to hang up for Christmas stockings for +the children. + +"Oh, mamma!" said Nelly: "Pocahontas is too heavy; and I don't care +half so much for her as for dear beautiful Josephine. I shouldn't +care very much if Pocahontas did get broken, but if any thing were +to happen to the Empress it would be dreadful. Do let me carry her, +mamma. I'll make her a beautiful waterproof cloak just like mine; +and she can wear two veils just as you do on the water." + +"Very well, Nelly, you can do as you like," replied her mother; "but +I warn you that you will wish the doll out of the way a great many +times before we reach our journey's end; and I am afraid her looks +will be entirely spoiled." + +"Oh, no, mamma!" replied Nelly, confidently. "You'll see you haven't +the least idea what good care I shall take of her." + +At last the day came when the last box was shut and nailed and +corded, the last leather bag locked, the last bundle rolled up and +strapped; and Mr. and Mrs. March, and Rob and Nelly, and little +Deacon Plummer and his good little wife, all stood on the doorsteps +of the parsonage waiting for the stage, which was to carry them ten +miles to the railway station where they were to take the cars. Mrs. +Napoleon really looked very pretty in her long waterproof cloak; it +was of bright blue lined with scarlet; and she wore a dark blue hat +with a little bit of scarlet feather in it, to match her cloak; and +she had a dark blue veil, two thicknesses of it, pinned very tight +over her face and hat; Nelly held her hugged tight in her arms, and +never put her down. + +"Oh, my! before I'd be bothered with a doll to carry," exclaimed +Rob, looking at Nelly,--"leave her behind. Give her to Mary Pratt. +You won't care for dolls out in Colorado. I know you won't." + +Nelly gave Rob a look which would have melted the heart of an older +boy; but Rob was not to be melted. + +"Oh, you needn't look that way!" he said. "A doll's a plague: I +heard mamma tell you so too, so now, there," he added triumphantly. +Nelly walked away in silence, and only hugged Mrs. Napoleon tighter, +and Mr. March, who had been watching the scene, said to his wife: +"Look at that motherly little thing. The doll's the same to her as a +baby to you." + +"Yes," said Mrs. March, "but Rob's right after all. It'll be a great +bother having that wax doll along; but I thought it was better to +let Nelly see for herself. I dare say she'll forget it, and leave it +at the first place where we change cars." + +"Not she," said Mr. March. "You don't know Nelly half so well as I +do, Sarah, if she is your own child. Nelly'd carry that doll round +the world and never lay it down." + +"We'll see," said Mrs. March, laughing. Mr. March was a little +vexed at his wife for saying this; and he privately resolved that he +would keep an eye on Mrs. Napoleon himself all through the journey, +and see that she was not left behind at any station. + +Four days and four nights in the cars, going, going, going every +minute, night and day, dark and light, asleep and awake: nobody has +any idea what such a journey is till he takes it. Poor old Deacon +Plummer and Mrs. Plummer were so tired by the end of the second day +that they looked about ninety years old. + +"Deary me!" Mrs. Plummer said a dozen times a day. "It's a great +deal farther than I thought." + +"I told you, Elizy, it was four days and four nights," the Deacon +always replied; "but I suppose you didn't sense it no more'n I did. +Nobody couldn't believe the joltin' 'd be so wearin'. I feel's if my +bones was all jelly in my skin," and the poor old man moved as if +they were. He reeled when he walked; and, at each lurch the cars +gave, he would catch hold of anything or anybody who happened to be +near him. If it were a person, he would apologize most humbly: but +if the car gave another lurch, even while he was apologizing, he +would catch hold again, just as hard as before, at which the person +would walk away quite offended; and very soon everybody in the car +tried to keep out of the old man's way, they were so afraid of being +violently laid hold of by him. + +Rob and Nelly did not mind the jolting; did not mind the lurches the +cars gave; did not mind the cinders, the dust, the noise. They were +having the best time they ever had in their lives. For the first two +days of their journey, they were in what is called "The +drawing-room," in the sleeping-car. I wonder if I could make those +of you who have never been in a sleeping-car understand about this +little room. I will try. + +Most of the sleeping-cars have merely shelves along the sides in the +place where the seats are in the ordinary day-cars: curtains are +hung in front of these shelves, and they are parted off from each +other like the shelves in a long cupboard. In the daytime, these +shelves are folded away and fastened up against the walls, and seats +left below them. At night when people are ready to go to bed, the +shelves are let down, and the curtains put up in front of them, and +each person climbs up on his shelf, and undresses behind the +curtain, and goes to bed. I forgot to say that a very good little +bed is made up on each shelf. A man who has the care of the car, and +who is called the porter, makes these beds. This is the way it is in +nearly all the sleeping-cars. But there are some cars which have, +besides these, a nice little room walled off at one end. It has +seats for two people on each side; and these seats are made into +comfortable beds at night. It has two windows which open on the +outside of the car, and two which open on the narrow aisle of the +car; these four windows are all your own, if you have hired the +whole little room for yourself. You can have them either open or +shut, just as you like, and nobody else has any right to say any +thing about it, which is a great comfort; in the ordinary car, you +know there is always somebody just behind you or just before you who +is either too hot or too cold, and wants the windows shut when you +want them open, or open when you want them shut. This little room +has a door at each end of it. One opens into the car where the rest +of the people are sitting. The other opens into a nice little closet +where there is a washbowl and water, and you can take a bath +comfortably. At night the porter comes and hangs up curtains across +these doors, because they have glass in the tops of them; then he +draws the curtains at your windows; then he lights a lamp which +hangs in the middle of the ceiling in your room: and there you are +shut up in as cunning a little bedroom as you would ever want to +see; and almost as snug and private as you could be in your own +bedroom. You can undress and go to bed comfortably; and, unless the +jolting of the car keeps you awake, you can sleep all night as +soundly as you would at home. + +Rob and Nelly were delighted with this little room. So was Mrs. +March. She hung up their cloaks and hats on the hooks, and took out +their books and papers, and made the little room look like home. +Nelly propped Mrs. Napoleon up in one corner of one of the red +velvet arm-chairs, and took off her blue veils, for there seemed to +be no dust at all. + +"I wish I'd brought Pocahontas too," said Nelly: "there is so much +room, and dolls do look so nice travelling like other people." + +"People!" laughed Rob. "Dolls ain't people." + +"They are too," said Nelly. "People are men and women, and there are +boy dolls and girl dolls and women dolls and men dolls." + +"Mamma, are dolls people?" asked Rob, vehemently. "Nell says they +are, and I say they ain't. They ain't: are they?" + +"Not live people," said Mrs. March: "Nell didn't mean that." + +"Oh, no!" said Nelly; "but they're play people, and you can't be +sure they don't know any thing just because they don't speak. I +could go a whole year without speaking if I tried to." + +"I believe you could," laughed Mrs. March; "but Rob couldn't." + +"Not I," said Rob. "What's the use? I like to talk. Nell's a +dumb-cat: that's what she is." + +"I can talk if I've a mind to," retorted Nelly; "but I don't want +to; that is, not very often: I don't see the use in it." + +This is the way it always was with Rob and Nelly. Dearly as they +loved each other, they never thought alike about any thing: but for +that very reason they did each other good; much more than if they +had been just alike. + +When it was time for breakfast or for dinner, the black porter, +whose name was Charley, brought in a little square table and set it +up as firm as he could between the seats. Then Mr. March lifted up +the big luncheon-basket on one of the chairs, and Mrs. March took +out her spirit-lamp, and they had great fun cooking. There was a +saucepan which fitted over the spirit-lamp, and the flame of the +spirit-lamp was so large that water boiled in this saucepan in a +very few minutes. Mrs. March could make tea or chocolate or coffee: +she could boil eggs, or warm up beef soup; then, after they had +eaten all they wanted, they heated more water in the same saucepan +and washed their dishes in it. At first, this seemed dreadful to +Nelly, who was a very neat little girl. + +"Oh, mamma," she said, "how horrid to cook in the same pan you wash +dishes in!" But Mrs. March laughed at her, and told her that when +people were travelling they could not afford to be so particular. + +It was only for the first two days and nights of their journey that +they had this comfortable little room. On the morning of the third +day they reached Kansas City, and there they had to change cars. +They sat in a large and crowded waiting-room, while Mr. March went +to see about the tickets. Nelly and Rob looked with great +astonishment on every thing they saw. They seemed already to have +come into a new world. The people looked strange, and a great many +of them were speaking German. There were whole families--father, +mother, and perhaps half-a-dozen little children--sitting on the +railway platforms, on big chests, which were tied up with strong +ropes. They had great feather-beds, too, tied in bundles and bulging +out all round the ropes. Their faces were very red, and their +clothes were old and patched: if Nelly had met them in the lanes of +Mayfield, she would have taken them for beggars; but here they were +travelling just like herself, going the same way too, for she +watched several of them getting into the same train. Then there were +groups of men in leather clothes, with their boots reaching up to +their knees, and powder-horns slung across their shoulders. They all +carried rifles: some of them had two or three; and one of them, as +he stepped on the platform, threw down a dead deer; another carried +a splendid pair of antlers. Nelly took hold of Rob's hand and walked +very cautiously nearer the dead deer. + +"Oh, Rob!" she said, "it's a real deer. There is a picture of one in +my Geography with just such horns as these." + +Nelly was carrying Mrs. Napoleon hugged up very tight in her arms; +but she had not observed that, in the jostling of the crowd, Mrs. +Napoleon had somehow turned her head round as if she were looking +backward over Nelly's shoulder. Neither had she observed that two +little girls were following closely behind her, jabbering German as +fast as they could, and pointing to the doll. Presently, she felt +her gown pulled gently. She turned round, and there were the two +little girls, both with outstretched hands, talking as fast as +magpies, and much more unintelligibly. Each of them took hold of +Nelly's gown again, and made signs to her that she should let them +take the doll. They looked so eager that it seemed as if they would +snatch the doll out of her hands: the words they spoke sounded so +thick and strange that it half frightened Nelly. "Oh, dear me, Rob!" +she exclaimed; "do tell them to go away. Go away, good little +girls, go away!" she said, pleadingly. "I can't let you take her." + +"Clear out!" said Rob, roughly, taking hold of one of them by the +shoulder and giving her a shove. No sooner had the words passed his +lips than he felt himself lifted by the nape of his neck as if he +had been a little puppy: he was in the hand's of a great red-faced +German, who looked like a scarlet giant to poor Rob, as he gazed up +in his face. This was the father of the two little girls; he had +seen the shove that Rob gave his little Wilhelmina, and he was in a +great rage; he shook Rob back and forth, and cuffed his ears, all +the time talking very loud in German. All he said was:-- + +"You are a good-for-nothing: I will teach you manners, that you do +not push little girls who are doing you no harm;" but it sounded in +the German language like something very dreadful. + +Poor Nelly clung to him with one hand, and tried to stop his beating +Rob. + +"Oh, please don't whip my brother, sir!" she cried. "He did not mean +to hurt the little girl. She was going to snatch my doll away from +me." + +But the angry German shook Nelly off as if she had been a little fly +that lighted on his arm. Rob did not cry out, nor speak a word. He +was horribly frightened, but he was too angry to cry. He said +afterwards:-- + +"I thought he was going to kill me; but I just made up my mind I +wouldn't speak a single word if he did." + +All this that I have been telling you didn't take much more than a +minute; but it seemed to poor Nelly a thousand years. She was +crying, and the little German girls were crying too: they did not +mean to do any harm, and they did not want the little boy whipped. +Some rough men and women who were looking on began to laugh, and +one man called out:-- + +"Go it, Dutchy, go it!" + +Mr. March, who was just walking up the platform, heard the noise; +and, when he looked up to see what it meant, what should he see but +his own Rob held away up in the air, in the powerful grip of this +tall man, and being soundly cuffed about the ears. Mr. March sprang +forward, and, taking hold of Rob with one hand, caught the angry +man's uplifted arm in the other. + +"Stop, sir," he said; "this is my little boy. What has he done? +Leave him to me. What has he done?" + +"Nothing, papa," called poor Rob, the tears coming into his eyes at +the sight of a protector; "nothing except push that ugly little +yellow-haired girl: I guess she is his; she was going to snatch +Nell's doll." + +The German set Rob down; and, turning towards Mr. March, began to +pour out a torrent of words. Luckily, Mr. March understood most of +what he said, and could speak to him in his own language. So he +explained to him that his little daughters had tried to take Nelly's +doll away from her, and that Rob had only intended to protect his +sister, as was quite right and proper he should do. As soon as the +man understood this, he turned at once to his little girls who stood +by crying, and asked them a short question in German. + +They sobbed out, "ja, ja" (that means "yes, yes"). In less than a +minute he caught up first the elder one, just as he had caught up +Rob, and boxed her ears; then the smaller one, and cuffed her also; +and set them both down on the ground, as if he were used to swinging +children up in the air and boxing their ears every day. Then he +turned to Rob, and taking him by the hand, said to Mr. March,-- + +"Explain to your little boy that I ask his pardon. He was doing the +right thing: he is a gentleman; and I ask that he accept this horn +from me and from my very bad little girls." + +So saying, he took out of a great wallet that hung across his back a +beautiful little powder horn. It was a horn of the chamois, the +beautiful wild deer that lives in the mountains in Switzerland. It +was as black as ebony, and had a fine pattern cut on it, like a +border round the top; then it had a scarlet cord and silver buckles, +to fasten it across the shoulders. Rob's eyes glistened with delight +as he stretched out his hand for it. + +"Oh, thank you, thank you!" he said. "Oh, papa! please thank him, +and tell him I don't mind the whipping a bit now. And," he added, +"please tell him, too, that I didn't mean to shove his little girl +hard, only just to keep her off Nell." + +Mr. March interpreted Rob's speech to the German, who nodded +pleasantly and walked off, leading his two little sobbing children +by the hand. He was so tall that the little girls looked like little +elves by his side, and he looked like the picture of the Giant with +his seven-league boots on. When Rob turned to show his beautiful +powder horn to Nelly, she was nowhere to be seen. + +"Why, where is Nell, papa?" he exclaimed. + +Mr. March looked around anxiously, but could see nothing of her. +They hurried back into the waiting-room, and there to their great +relief they saw Nelly sitting by her mother's side. Rob rushed up to +her, holding up his powder horn, and exclaiming,-- + +"Why, Nell, what made you come away? That old thrasher was a +splendid fellow: see what he gave me, as soon as papa made him +understand; and he cuffed those girls well, I tell you,--most as +hard as he did me. Why, Nell, what's the matter?" Rob suddenly +observed that Nelly was crying. + +"Don't talk to Nelly just now," said Mrs. March: "she is in +trouble." And she put her arm round Nelly tenderly. + +"But what is it, mamma?" exclaimed Rob; "tell me. Is she hurt?" + +"What is it, Sarah?" said Mr. March. By this time Nelly was sobbing +hard, and her head was buried on her mother's shoulder. Mrs. March +pointed to Nelly's lap: there lay a shapeless and dirty little +bundle, which Nelly held grasped feebly in one hand. It was the +remains of Mrs. Napoleon. The blue waterproof was all torn and +grimed with dirt; a broken wax arm hung out at one side; and when +Rob cautiously lifted a fold of the waterproof, there came into view +a shocking sight: poor Mrs. Napoleon's face, or rather what had been +her face, without a single feature to be seen in it,--just a round +ball of dirty, crumbling wax, with the pretty yellow curls all +matted in it. Mr. March could not help smiling at the sight; +luckily, Nelly did not see him. + +"Why, how did that happen?" he said. + +"What a shame!" exclaimed Rob. "Say, Nell, you shall have my powder +horn;" and he thrust it into her hand. Nelly shook her head and +pushed it away, but did not speak. Her heart was too full. + +Then Mrs. March told them in a low tone how it had happened. When +Nelly caught hold of the German's arm, trying to stop his beating +Rob, she had forgotten all about Mrs. Napoleon, and let her fall to +the ground. Nobody saw her, and, in the general scuffle, the doll +had been trampled under foot. Really, if one had not been so sorry +for Nelly, one could not help laughing at the spectacle. The scarlet +feather and the bright blue cloak, and the golden curls, and the +dark blue veils, and the red and white wax, all mixed up together +so that you would have hardly known that it was a doll at +all,--except that one blue eye was left whole, with a little bit of +the red cheek under it. This made the whole wreck look still worse. + +"Our first railroad accident," said Mrs. March, laughingly. Nelly +sobbed harder than ever. + +"Hush," said Mr. March, in a low tone to his wife. "Don't make light +of it." + +"Nelly, dear," he said, taking hold of the doll gently, "shall not +papa throw the poor dolly away? You don't want to look at her any +more." + +"Oh, no, no!" said Nelly, lifting up the bundle, and hugging it +tighter. + +"Very well, dear," replied her father, "you shall keep it as long as +you like. But let me pin poor dolly up tight, so that nobody can see +how she is hurt." + +Nelly gave the doll up without a word, and her kind papa rolled the +little waterproof cloak tight round the body and arms; then he +doubled up the blue veil and pinned it many thicknesses thick all +round the head; and then he took a clean dark-blue and white silk +handkerchief of his own and put outside all the veil, and made it +into a snug little parcel, that nobody would have known was a dolly +at all. + +"There, Nelly," he said, putting it in her lap, "there is dolly, all +rolled up, so that nobody can look at her." + +Nelly took the sad little bundle, and laid it across her knees. + +"Can she ever be mended, papa?" she said. + +"No, dear, I think not," said Mr. March; "I think the sooner you put +her out of your sight the better; but now we must go into the cars." + +Poor Nelly! she walked slowly along, carrying the blue and white +package as if it were a coffin,--as indeed it was, a kind of coffin, +for a very dead dolly. + +As they were going into the car, Mr. March said to his wife:-- + +"There is no drawing-room in the sleeping-car which goes through +to-day. I have had to take two sections." + +Mrs. March had never travelled in a sleeping-car before, and she did +not know how much nicer the little room was than the "sections." So +she replied: "They'll do just as well, won't they?" + +"I think you will not like them quite so well," replied Mr. March; +"you cannot be by yourself with the children. But it is only for one +night; we will make the best of it. There are our sections, one +right opposite the other; so you will not have strangers opposite +you." + +They put their lunch-basket and bags and bundles down on the floor, +and sat down on the two sofas, facing each other. Nelly put her blue +and white parcel in one corner of the sofa, lay down with her head +on it, and was soon fast asleep. There were tears on her cheeks. + +"Poor child!" said Mr. March; "this is her first real grief." + +"I'm glad I ain't a girl," said Rob, bluntly; "I don't believe in +dolls, do you, papa?" + +Mr. March answered Rob's question by another. + +"Do you believe in babies, Rob?" + +"Why, of course, papa! What a funny question! I think babies are +real nice. They're alive, you know." + +"Yes," said his father; "but dolls are just the same to little girls +that babies are to grown-up women. Nelly felt just like a mother to +Mrs. Napoleon. She was a very good little mother too." + +"Yes," said Mrs. March; "she was. I am very sorry for her." + +"I'm real glad Deacon Plummer and Mrs. Plummer weren't here," said +Rob. + +"Why, why, Rob?" said his mother. + +(Deacon and Mrs. Plummer had left the train at Quincy to spend a +week with a son of theirs who lived there. They were to join the +Marches later, in Denver.) + +"Oh, because she'd have said: 'This is--cough--cough--providential.' +What does providential mean, anyhow, papa? You never say it. Does it +make you cough and sneeze? Mrs. Plummer is always saying it about +every thing." + +Mr. and Mrs. March laughed so hard at this they could not speak for +some minutes. Then Mr. March said:-- + +"You must not speak so, Rob;" but, before he had finished his +sentence, he had to stop again, and laugh harder than before. +"Deacon and Mrs. Plummer are going to be the greatest help to us, +and they are as good and kind as they can be." + +"Yes, I like her crullers first-rate," said Rob. "What does +providential mean, papa?" + +Mr. March looked puzzled. + +"I hardly know how to tell you, Rob. Mrs. Plummer means by it that +God made the thing happen, whatever it is that she is speaking of, +on purpose for her accommodation: that is one way of using the word. +I do not believe that doctrine: so I never use the word, because it +would be understood to mean something I don't believe in." + +"I should think God'd be too busy," said Rob, as if he were thinking +very hard; "he couldn't remember everybody, could he?" + +"Not in that way, I think," said Mr. March; "but in another way I +think it is true that he never forgets anybody. It is something like +my garden, Rob. You know I've got parsnips, and carrots, and beets, +and potatoes,--oh! a dozen of things, all growing together. Now I +never forget my garden. I know when it is time to have the corn +hoed; and I know, when there hasn't been any rain for a long time, +that I must water it. But I don't think about each particular carrot +or parsnip in the bed: I could hardly count them if I tried. Yet I +mean to take very good care of my garden, and never let them suffer +for any thing; and if any one of my vegetables were to be thirsty, +if it could speak, it ought to ask me to give it some water." + +I am afraid Rob did not listen attentively to this long explanation. +He never thought of any one thing very long, as you know. And he was +busy now watching all the people pour into the car. There was a +little girl, only about Nelly's age, who had to be carried on a +little mattress. She could not walk. Something was the matter with +her spine. Her father and mother were with her. And there was a lady +with a sweet face, who was too ill to sit up at all. The sofas in +her "section" were made up into a bed as soon as she came in; she +had a doctor and a nurse with her. + +Then there were several couples, who had two or three children with +them; and one poor lady who was travelling all alone with five +children, and the largest only twelve years old; and there were some +Englishmen with guns and fishing-rods and spy-glasses and almost +every thing you could think of that could be cased in leather and +carried on a journey,--one of them even had a bath-tub, a big, round +bath-tub, in addition to every thing else. He had a man-servant with +him who carried all these things, or else he never could have got on +at all. The man's name was Felix. That is a Latin word which means +"happy," but I don't think this poor fellow was happy at all. He was +a Frenchman. I don't know how he came to be an Englishman's servant, +but I suppose the Englishman had lived a great while in France, and +had found him there. Felix's master always talked French with him; +so Felix had not learned much English, and it would have made you +laugh to see him clap his hand to his head when anybody said any +thing he could not understand. He would pound his head as if he +could drive the meaning in that way; and then he would pull his thin +hair; and then sometimes he would turn round and round as fast as a +top two or three times. When he came into the cars loaded down with +the guns and the rods and the bundles and the bath-tub, his master +would tell him to put them down in the corner; then the porter would +come along and say:-- + +"Look here! you can't have all these things in here," and then Felix +would say:-- + +"Vat dat you say, sare?" + +Then the porter would repeat it; and Felix would say again:-- + +"Vat dat you say, sare?" + +And then the porter would get angry, and pick up some of the things, +and lay them on Felix's back, and tell him to carry them off; and +there Felix would stand stock-still, with the things on his back, +till his master appeared. Then he would pour out all his story of +his troubles in French, and the Englishman would be very angry with +the porter, and say that he would have his things where he pleased; +and the porter would say he should not. He must put them under his +berth or in the baggage car; and poor Felix would stand all the +while looking first in the porter's face and then in his master's, +just like a dog that is waiting for his master to tell him which way +to run for a thing. Great drops of perspiration would stand on his +forehead, and his face would be as red as if it were August: he was +so worried and confused. Poor Felix! he was one of the drollest +sights in the whole journey. + +The people kept pouring in. + +"Mamma, where are they all to sleep?" whispered Rob. + +"I'm sure I don't know, Rob," she answered. + +At last the train moved off, and the different families arranged +themselves in their own sections, and it seemed a little less +crowded. But there were not seats enough for all the children, and +some of them were obliged to sit on the floor in the middle of the +aisle. The lady who had five children had only engaged one berth: +that is half of a section. + +"How do you expect to manage about sleeping?" said Mrs. March to +her. + +"Oh, that's easy enough," said she. "We've slept so all the way from +New York. I put the three little ones crosswise at the foot, and the +two others lie 'longside of me." + +Mrs. March did not reply to this; but she thought to herself, "I'd +like to see those babies after they are all packed away for the +night." + +At noon the train stopped for the passengers to take their dinner at +a little station. More than half the people in the car went out. +Then the porter--the new porter's name was Ben--brought in little +tables and put them up between the seats for the people who had +their own lunch-baskets and did not want to go out to dinner. In the +next section to the Marches were a man and his wife with three +children. They had a big coffee-pot full of coffee, and one tin cup +to drink it from. They had loaves of brown bread, a big cheese, and +a bunch of onions. As soon as they opened their basket, the smell of +the onions and the cheese filled the car. + +"Ugh!" said Rob; "where does this horrible smell come from?" + +Luckily the people who owned the cheese and the onions did not hear +him, and before he had time to say any more, his mother whispered to +him to be quiet; but Rob's face was one of such disgust, that nobody +could have looked at him without seeing that he was very +uncomfortable. Mrs. March felt as uncomfortable as Rob did: but she +knew that those people had just the same right to have cheese and +onions on their table that she had to have chocolate and orange +marmalade on hers; so she opened one of the windows wide to let in +fresh air, and went on with her dinner. As soon as the spirit-lamp +began to burn, the children in the next section exclaimed aloud: +"Oh, what is that? what is that?" They had never seen any thing of +the kind before. The two eldest, who were boys, jumped down from +their seat, each carrying a big piece of bread and of cheese, and +came crowding around Mrs. March to look at the lamp. Mrs. March was +a very gentle and polite woman, but she could not help being vexed +at these ill-mannered children. + +"Go away, little boys," she said: "I am very busy now. I am afraid +you will upset the lamp, and get burned." + +Then she looked at the father and mother, hoping they would call +their children back. But they took no notice of them: they went on +eating their bread and cheese and onions; and, at every fresh onion +they sliced, a fresh whiff of the strong, disagreeable odor went +through the car. Mr. March had been out to the eating-house, to get +some milk. Mrs. March had brought a big square glass bottle, which +held three pints; and, whenever they stopped at an eating-house, Mr. +March bought fresh milk to fill it, and this was a great addition to +their bill of fare. He came into the car at this moment, bringing +the milk bottle, and as soon as he opened the car door, he +exclaimed, as Rob had done:-- + +"Ugh!" but in a second more he saw what had made the odor, and he +said no more. As he handed the milk to his wife, she said in a low +tone:-- + +"Could we go anywhere else to eat our dinner, Robert?" + +Mr. March looked all around the car and shook his head. + +"No," he said; "every seat is taken, and at any moment the people +may come back. It is nearly time now for the train to start. We +will make a hasty meal; perhaps we can do better at night." + +Rob and Nelly were very quiet. They did not like the two strange +boys who stood close to their seat staring at them, and at every +thing which was on the table. Rob whispered to Nelly:-- + +"'Tain't half so nice as it was in the little room: is it, Nell?" + +"No," said Nelly. + +"Shouldn't you think they'd be ashamed to stare so?" continued Rob, +making a gesture over his shoulder towards their uninvited guests. + +"Yes," said Nelly. "It's real rude." + +Still the boys stood immovable at Mrs. March's knee. At last one of +them lifted his head, and, saying "What keeps that thing on there?" +pointed to the saucepan standing on the little tripod of the lamp. +Just at that moment, his brother accidentally hit his arm and made +his hand go farther than he meant: it hit the saucepan and knocked +it over; down went the spirit-lamp, all the alcohol ran out and took +fire, and for a few minutes there was a great hubbub I assure you. +Mr. March seized their heavy woollen lap-robe, and threw it on the +floor above the burning alcohol, and stamped out the flames; and +nobody was burned. But the nice chocolate was all lost; it went +running down a little muddy stream, way out to the door; and the +tumbler which had the butter in it fell to the floor and was broken; +and the nice slices of white bread which Mrs. March had just cut +were all soaked in alcohol and spoiled; and altogether it was a +wretched mess, and all because two little boys had not been taught +how to behave properly. They ran off as hard as they could go, you +may be sure, back into their own seat, as soon as the mischief was +done; and, if you will believe it, their father and mother never +even looked round or took notice of all the confusion that was +going on. They sat and munched their onions and brown bread and +cheese as if they were in their own house all alone. One sees very +queer and disagreeable people in travelling. By the time Mr. and +Mrs. March had put out the fire, and picked up all the things and +wiped up the chocolate as well as they could with a newspaper, the +people who had gone out to get their dinners, all came pouring back, +and the cars began to move. + +"Oh, dear me!" said Mrs. March: "we shall have to go without our +lunch now till tea-time. Here, children, just drink this milk, and +eat a piece of bread, and at tea-time, perhaps, we'll have better +luck." + +"I don't care," said Rob; "I ain't hungry a bit: it's all so horrid +in here." + +"Neither am I," said Nelly. "Can't we have a little room all to +ourselves to-morrow, papa?" + +"No, Nell," said her father: "no more little room for us on this +journey; this car goes through to Denver. We can't change. But it is +only one night and one day: we can stand it." + +"I'm glad part of it is night," said Nelly; "we'll be by ourselves +when we're in bed." + +"Yes," said Mrs. March. "You are to sleep with me, and Rob with +papa; and we'll be all shut in behind the curtains. I think that +will be quite comfortable." + +When the train stopped for the passengers to take supper, Mr. and +Mrs. March decided that they would go out too, and not try any more +experiments with the spirit-lamp while they had such dangerous and +disagreeable companions in the next seat. + +Nelly and Rob clung to their father's hand as they entered the +eating-room. There were four long tables, all filled with people +eating as fast as they could eat. Nearly all the men had their hats +on their heads, and the noise of the knives and forks sounded like +the clatter of machinery. The train was to stop only twenty minutes, +and everybody was trying to eat all he could in so short a time. Mr. +and Mrs. March, being very gentle and quiet people, did not hurry +the waiters as the other people did; and so it happened that their +supper was not brought to them for some time. Nelly had eaten only a +few mouthfuls of her bread and milk when there was a general rush +from all the tables, and the room was emptied in a minute. The +conductor of the train was sitting at the table with the Marches, +and he said kindly to them:-- + +"Don't hurry; there is plenty of time; five minutes yet." + +"Five minutes!" said Rob, scornfully: "I couldn't take five +mouthfuls in five minutes. I'm going to carry mine into the cars." +And he began spreading bread and butter. + +"A good idea, Rob," said his mother. And she did the same thing; +and, as the conductor called "All aboard!" the March family entered +the car, each carrying two slices of bread and butter. + +"Not much better luck with our supper than with our dinner, Sarah," +said Mr. March; "I think you'll have to open your lunch-basket, +after all." + +"Oh, don't ask me to!" said Mrs. March. "The children have had a +good drink of milk. We can get along till morning. I would rather go +hungry than take out the things with all those people looking on. We +can go to bed early: that will be a comfort." + +Mistaken Mrs. March! They sat on the steps of the cars for half an +hour to watch the sunset. The brakeman had found out that Mr. March +was so careful and Nelly and Rob were such good children that he let +them sit there as often as they liked. Nelly loved dearly to sit +between her father's knees on the upper step and look down at the +ground as it seemed to fly away so swiftly under the wheels. +Sometimes they went so fast that the ground did not look like ground +at all. It looked like a smooth, striped sheet of brown and green +paper being drawn swiftly under the car wheels. It seemed to Rob and +Nelly as if they must be going out over the edge of the world. All +they could see was sky and ground. + +"This is the way it looks when you are out in the middle of the +ocean, Nell," said her father; "just the great round sky over your +head, and the great flat sea underneath: only the sea is never still +as the ground is; that is the only difference." + +"Still!" cried Rob. "You don't call this ground under us still, do +you? It's going as fast as lightning all the time." + +"No, Rob! it is we who are going; the ground is still," said his +mother; "but it does look just as if the ground were flying one way +and we the other. It makes me almost dizzy to look down." + +Pretty soon the moon came up in the east. It was almost full, and, +as it came up slowly in sight, it looked like a great circle of +fire. Rob and Nelly both cried out, when they first saw it:-- + +"Oh, mamma! oh, papa! see that fire!" + +In a very few minutes it was up in full sight, and then they saw +what it was. + +"Dear me! only the moon, after all," said Rob; "I hoped it was a big +fire." + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +A NIGHT IN A SLEEPING-CAR + + +The moonlight was so beautiful that Mrs. March did not like to go +back into the car; and Rob and Nelly begged so hard to sit up, that +she let them stay long past their bedtime. At last she +exclaimed:-- + +"Come, come! this won't do! We must go to bed," and she opened the +car door. As soon as she looked in she started back, so that she +nearly knocked Mr. March and Nelly off the platform. + +"Why, what has happened?" she said. + +Mr. March laughed. + +"Oh, nothing," he said: "this is the way a sleeping-car always looks +at night." + +Curtains were let down on each side the aisle its whole length. It +was very dark, and the aisle looked very narrow. Not a human being +was in sight. + +"Where are our sections?" said Mrs. March. + +"These are ours, I think," said Mr. March, pulling open a curtain on +the left. + +"Let my curtain alone," called somebody from inside, "Go away." + +Mr. March had opened the wrong curtain. + +"Oh, I beg your pardon, madam," he said, much mortified that he +should have broken open a lady's bedroom. + +Mrs. March and Rob and Nelly stood close together in the middle of +the aisle, at their wits' end. They did not dare to open another +curtain, for fear it should be somebody's else bedroom, and not +their own. + +"I'll call Ben," said Mr. March; "he'll know." + +But Ben was nowhere to be found. At last they found him sound asleep +in a little state-room at the end of the car. + +"Ben, come show us which are our sections," said Mr. March. + +Ben was very sleepy. He came stumbling down the aisle, rubbing his +eyes. + +"Reckon there is your berths; I made 'em up all ready for you," said +Ben, and pulled open the very curtain Mr. March had opened before. + +"Oh! don't open that one; there's a lady in there," cried Mrs. +March; but she was too late. Ben had thrown the curtains wide open. + +The same angry voice as before called out:-- + +"I wish you'd let my curtain alone. What are you about?" + +"Done made a mistake this time, sure," said Ben, composedly drawing +the curtains together again; but not before Mrs. March and Nelly and +Rob had had time to see into the bed, and had seen that it held the +mother with five children. There they all lay as snug as you please: +the three little ones packed like herrings in a box, across the foot +of the bed, and the two others on the inside; and the mother lying +on the outer edge almost in the aisle. As Ben pushed back the +curtains, she muttered:-- + +"There ain't any room to spare in this berth, if that's what you're +looking for." + +Rob and Nelly gave a smothered laugh at this. + +"Hush, children!" whispered Mrs. March. "You wouldn't like to be +laughed at." + +"Oh, mamma, it's so funny!" said Rob. "We can't help it." + +Mrs. March did not think it funny at all. She began to be in despair +about the night. + +The very next section to the one with the five children was one of +Mr. March's, and luckily those were the next curtains Ben opened. + +"Here you are! you're all right!" he said, cheerfully. "Here's all +your things: I done piled 'em up first-rate for you." + +Piled up they were indeed. The lunch-basket, the strapped bundle of +blankets, the overcoats, the water-proofs, the leather bags, all one +above the other on one bed. + +"Where are we to sleep, mamma?" exclaimed Nelly. + +"On top," said Rob. "Hurrah! hurrah!" and he was about to jump on +the top of the pile. + +"Be quiet, Rob," said his father: "we must go to bed as quietly as +we can, and not wake people up. We ought to have come earlier. +Almost everybody is asleep, I think." + +At this point, rose two great snores, so close that Mrs. March +started. + +"Mercy!" she exclaimed. "How that frightened me!" + +Snore! snore! snore! The sounds came as regularly as the striking of +a clock: they were most uncommonly loud snores. Mr. March looked at +his wife and smiled. Mrs. March did not smile in return: she did not +like this state of things at all. + +At last they had sorted out the things they needed, and the rest of +the things they pushed under their berths,--all but the big +lunch-basket: Mr. March had to carry that out to the end of the car, +and set it by the stove. Then Mr. March and Rob climbed into their +bed, and shut the curtains; and Mrs. March and Nelly climbed into +theirs, and shut their curtains, and began to undress. Presently, +Mr. March called across in a whisper:-- + +"Wife, what shall I do with Rob's clothes?" + +Mrs. March was at that moment trying to find some place to put +Nelly's and hers. + +"I'm sure I don't know," she replied. "There isn't a sign of a hook +here to hang any thing on." + +"Nor here," replied Mr. March: "I'll leave them all in a pile on the +foot of the bed." + +"That'll do very well for a man's clothes," thought Mrs. March; "but +I must hang up our gowns and skirts." At last, she had a bright +thought. She stood up on the edge of the bed, and hooked the skirts +over the rod the curtains were swung from. It was all she could do +to reach it; and, just as she was hooking the last skirt on, the car +gave a lurch, and out she fell, out into the aisle, and across it, +through the curtains of Mr. March's berth, right on to his bed. + +"Goodness alive, Sarah! is this you?" he exclaimed, jumping up, +frightened. He was just falling asleep. + +"Well, I believe so," she said: "I'm not sure." + +"Oh, mamma, did it hurt you?" called Nelly, anxiously. + +"No, no, dear," replied her mother. "I'm coming right back." But, +before she went, she whispered in her husband's ear:-- + +"Robert March, I think a sleeping-car is the most detestable place I +ever got into in my life. Suppose I'd tumbled into some stranger's +berth, as I did into yours just now." + +Mr. March only laughed, and Mrs. March heard him laughing to himself +after she had gone back, and it did not make her feel any pleasanter +to hear this. At last she and Nelly were both undressed and in bed. +Their clothes and dressing-cases and travelling-bags were piled up +on their feet. + +"You mustn't kick, Nelly," said Mrs. March. "If you do, you'll upset +all the things out on the floor." + +"I'm afraid I always kick, mamma," replied honest Nelly. "I won't +while I'm awake; but when I'm asleep I don't know." + +Nelly was fast asleep in two minutes; but Mrs. March could not +sleep. The air in the car was so close and hot it made her head +ache. She had pinned her curtains tight together before she lay +down, so that nobody could look in on her as she had on the poor +lady with five children. Now she sat up in bed and unpinned them, +and looked out into the aisle. It was dark: the car was dashing +along at a tremendous rate; the air was most disagreeable, and there +were at least six people snoring different snores. + +"I can't stand this. I must open the window at the foot of the +berth," said Mrs. March. So she crept down and tried to open it. She +had not observed in the daytime how the windows were fastened: she +fumbled about in the dark till she found the fastening; she could +not move it; she took the skin off her knuckles; she wrenched her +shoulder; all this time sitting cross-legged on the bed. At last she +gave a shove with all her strength, and the window flew up: in one +second, an icy blast blew in full of smoke and cinders. "This won't +do, either," said Mrs. March; and she tried to get the window down. +This took longer than to get it up; finally, in despair, she propped +it open about two inches with one of her boots; then she sank back +exhausted, and came down hard on her watch and broke the crystal: +then she had a difficult time picking up all the little bits of +glass in the dark, and then, after she had picked them up, she did +not know what to do with them. There was some stiff paper in her +travelling-bag, if she could only get at it; at last she found it, +but, in drawing it out, she knocked the cork out of the hartshorn +bottle, and over went the bottle in the bag, all the hartshorn +poured out, and such a strong smell of hartshorn filled the berth it +waked Nelly up. + +"Oh, mamma! what is it? and what smells so?" she said, sleepily. + +"Only hartshorn, dear," said her mother, in a despairing tone. "I've +upset it all over every thing. Go to sleep, dear: it won't smell so +very long." + +Nelly dozed off again, saying: "I'm going to get up just as soon as +it's light. I hate this bed: don't you, mamma?" + +"Yes, Nell, I do," said Mrs. March; "I would rather have sat up all +night: but I am so tired and sleepy now I shall go to sleep, I +think." + +When Nelly waked, it was just beginning to be light. Her mother was +sound asleep. Nelly leaned over her, and looked out into the aisle. +Nobody was up except Ben, who was blacking boots at the end of the +aisle. + +"I'll get up as still as I can, and get all dressed before mamma +wakes up," thought Nelly. "Poor mamma! What a time she had last +night!" + +At that moment, as Nelly turned her head, she saw a sight which so +frightened her that, in spite of herself, she screamed. "What is it, +Nell?" asked her mother, waking instantly. Nelly could not speak, +but pointed to the wall at the back of their berth. Mrs. March sat +upright in bed, and gazed with astonishment and alarm almost as +great as Nelly's. What could it mean? There, in the smooth panel of +black walnut, which was almost as shining as a looking-glass, was +the reflection of a man's face. It was the face of the man who had +been eating the cheese and brown bread and onions. He had a red +handkerchief tied about his head for a nightcap; and he was sound +asleep, with his mouth wide open. While Mrs. March and Nelly sat +gazing breathlessly at this unaccountable sight, the head slowly +turned on the pillow, and a hand came up and rubbed one eye. Nelly +nearly screamed again. Her mother put her hand quickly over her +mouth. + +"Hush, Nell!" she said; "do not be frightened. I see how it is." + +The partitions which separated the sleeping-berths one from the +other did not come up close to the wall of the car. There was room +to put your hand through between. The black walnut lining of the car +was so polished that it reflected like a looking-glass; so each +person could see, in the back of his berth, the face of the person +who was lying in the berth next before his. + +"Goodness!" exclaimed Mrs. March; "if we can see into that berth, +they can see into this one;" and she seized one of the pillows, and +set it up against the crack. Then she looked down, and saw a similar +opening at the foot of the berth. This one she stopped up with +another pillow. + +"There, Nell," she said, "now we can dress without being +overlooked." + +Nelly did not quite understand how these shining black walnut panels +could have acted like looking-glasses, and she was a little afraid +still that the queer, shaggy face with the red silk nightcap would +glare out at her again; but she hurried on her clothes, and in a few +minutes was ready to go to the little wash-room which was provided +for ladies at the end of the car. + +"We are so early," said Mrs. March, "that I think we will be the +first ones there." + +Ah, how mistaken she was! When they reached the little room, there +stood two women waiting for their turn at the wash-stand; a third +was washing her face. As Mrs. March and Nelly appeared, one of those +who were waiting called out:-- + +"Come in. Don't go away. If you do, you'll lose your turn: there'll +be lots more here directly." + +"Thank you," said Mrs. March: "my daughter and I will wait there, +just outside the door. We will not intrude upon you." + +At this, all three of the women laughed, and one said: + +"H'm! there ain't much question of intrudin' in these sleepin'-cars. +It's just a kind o' big bedroom, that's all." + +Mrs. March smiled, and said: "Yes, I think so;" and the women went +on talking. They were relating their experiences in the night. One +of them said:-- + +"Well, I got along very well till somebody opened a window, and then +I thought I should ha' froze to death; but my husband he called the +conductor up, and they shut all the ventilators up; but I just +shivered all night. Real good soap this is: ain't it?" + +Mrs. March looked warningly at Nelly, who was just about to speak. +"Keep quiet, Nell," she said. But Nelly whispered: "Do you suppose +that was our window, mamma?" + +"I dare say," answered Mrs. March, in a still lower whisper: "keep +still, Nell." + +"Well, I wa'n't too cold," said the woman at the washbowl. She had +her false teeth in her hand, and was washing them under the little +slow stream running from the faucet: so she could not speak very +distinctly. "Well, I wa'n't too cold," she said, "but I'll tell you +what did happen to me. In the middle o' the night I felt somethin' +against my head, right on the very top on't; and what do you think +it was? 'Twas the feet of the man in the next section to our'n. +'Well,' says I, 'this is more'n I can stand;' and I gave 'em a real +shove. I reckon he waked up, for I didn't feel 'em no more." + +At this Nelly had to run away. She could not keep the laugh back +any longer. And Mrs. March thought it better to let her go, for she +did not know what might be coming next in the conversation of these +women. At the other end of the car, Nelly saw Rob, carrying +something done up in newspaper in his hand. She ran after him. He +put his finger on his lips as she drew near him, and made signs to +her not to speak. She could not imagine what he was carrying. He +went very fast to the outside door of the car, opened it, and threw +the parcel out. + +"What was it, Rob?" said Nell, eagerly. + +"I won't tell you," said Rob: "you'll tell." + +"Oh! I won't; I won't; indeed I won't," said Nell. + +"Honest Indian?" said Rob. + +"Honest Indian," said Nelly. + +This was the strongest form of pledge which Rob and Nelly ever gave. +It was like a sort of oath among the children in Mayfield. If a +child broke his promise after he had said "Honest Indian," there was +nothing too bad for him. + +"Well," said Rob, coming very close to Nelly, and speaking in a low +whisper, "it was those people's string of onions!" + +"Why, Rob!" cried Nelly, in a horrified tone, "why, Rob! that's +stealing. How could you?" + +"'Tain't stealing either, Nell March," said Rob, stoutly; "I haven't +got 'em. Stealing is taking things. I haven't got them. I didn't +want the old, horrid things. I just threw them away. That ain't +taking." + +Nelly still looked distressed. "Papa wouldn't like it," she said, +"nor mamma either. They were all those people had to eat, except +bread and cheese. Oh, Rob! I think it was awful mean in you." + +"I don't care: I wish I hadn't told you. I don't think it was mean. +It was good enough for them for making such a smell in the cars. I +heard some of the gentlemen saying they hadn't any business with +onions in the car,--that the conductor ought to make them throw them +away. Anyhow, Nell, you promised not to tell." + +"Yes," said Nell, "but I never once thought of its being such a +thing as this. What do you suppose they'll do? They might have you +took up and put in prison, Rob." + +Rob looked a little disturbed, but he replied bravely: + +"Oh, pshaw! I don't know whose onions they were anyhow. I just found +them rolling round on the floor, and I picked them up: they weren't +anybody's when they were out loose in the car. I don't care: we +won't have such a horrid smell here to-day." + +Nelly walked away looking very unhappy. She disliked the smell of +onions as much as Rob did; but she would rather have had the string +of onions in her lap all day than have had Rob do such a thing as +this; and she felt sure it would all be known, somehow, before the +day came to an end,--as you will see that it was. + +After everybody had got up, and the beds and pillows and blankets +were all packed away in the little cupboards overhead, and the car +was put in order for the day, the people who had lunch-baskets began +to eat their breakfasts. Nelly sat very still in her seat, and +watched to see what would happen when the onions were found to be +missing. Rob had walked away, and stood at the farther door of the +car. He seemed to be very busy looking out at the scenery. + +Mrs. March had a good little breakfast of boiled eggs and bread and +butter and tea and milk, all ready on the table. + +"Call Rob," she said to Nelly. Nelly walked to the end of the car, +and said:-- + +"Come, Rob. Mamma's got breakfast all ready." + +Without looking round, Rob whispered:-- + +"Have they missed 'em?" + +"I don't know: I haven't heard any thing," answered Nelly, in the +same low tone. And they walked back together, Nelly looking much +more anxious than Rob did. Mrs. March noticed their grave faces as +they took their seats, and she said:-- + +"You are tired: aren't you, children?" + +"Oh, no, mamma!" they both exclaimed; "we aren't a bit tired!" + +But their faces did not brighten. If the whole truth were told, it +must be owned that they were both very unhappy. The more Rob thought +about those onions, the more he felt afraid that it was stealing to +have thrown them away; and this made him wretched enough. + +And the more Nelly thought about it, the surer she felt that Rob was +going to get into trouble before the thing was done with. Neither of +them ate much breakfast; they were both listening to what was going +on in the next section. They could hear such sentences as:-- + +"I know I left 'em here last night." + +"Perhaps they went out of the window." + +"They couldn't: they were on the floor." + +"That black rascal's got 'em, you may be sure." + +At this last sentence, Nelly gave Rob a push under the table with +her foot, and his face turned very red. + +In a moment more, Ben entered the car; as he was passing the +Marches' table, the angry man from the next section called out, in a +very rude way:-- + +"Here, you nigger, what'd you do with my onions?" + +Ben stood stock-still, he was so astonished. + +"Ungyuns!" he exclaimed; "I never seed no ungyuns." + +"Yes, you did! You must have: you've stowed 'em away somewhere. Now +jest you pass 'em out, or I'll report you." + +Ben had never been accused of stealing before. He looked the man +full in the face, and said:-- + +"You can do all the reportin' yer want to, mister. I never seed your +ungyuns." And he was about to pass on; but the man was so angry, and +so sure that Ben must have taken his onions, that he stood in the +middle of the aisle, right in Ben's way, and would not let him pass. + +"Hand 'em over now," he said, in the most insulting tone; "hand 'em +over." + +Mr. March, who had been watching the scene with some amusement, was +very much astonished, on looking at Rob at this moment, to see his +cheeks flushed, his lips parted as if he were about to speak. + +"Why, Rob," he said, "do you know where the onions are?" + +"No," said Rob. + +Nelly gave an involuntary gasp, under her breath, "Oh!" + +Mr. March looked at her in still greater surprise. + +"Do you, Nell?" he said. + +Nelly did not reply, but looked at Rob, who said:-- + +"I don't know where they are now." But his expression was a very +guilty one. + +"Rob!" said his father, sternly, "you know something about those +onions: tell me this moment." + +Nelly clasped her hands tight, and gave a little cry, "Oh, Rob!" + +Now that the final moment had come, Rob spoke up like a man. + +"Papa, I threw them out of the car door,--they made such a smell. I +found them close to our berth when I first got up, and they smelled +so horrid I threw them away. Perhaps they weren't this man's +onions," said poor Rob, clutching at a last hope. + +Mr. March could hardly believe his ears. + +"You! You took what did not belong to you, and then threw it away! +Why, Rob! I am ashamed of you! Why, Rob, I wouldn't have believed +it!" exclaimed Mr. March. "You will pay for those onions out of your +allowance." And he looked at Rob more sternly than he had ever done +in his life. + +"Come, now, immediately," he continued, "and apologize to the man." +And he took Rob by the hand and led him to the next seat. + +"I am very sorry to tell you, sir," he said, "that my little boy +here took your onions and threw them away. He shall buy some for you +at the very first station where we can." + +"What'd yer throw 'em away for?" said the man, looking curiously and +not unkindly at Rob, whose face was enough to make anybody sorry for +him. + +"Because I hate the smell of them so," said Rob, sturdily; "and my +mamma hates them too; and I found them rolling round on the floor, +by our berth; and I just picked them up and threw them away. I +didn't think about their being anybody's,--not until afterwards," he +added; "and I'm very sorry, sir. I'll buy you some more out of my +own money." + +Mr. March smiled at this little explanation: he saw that Rob had not +really intended to do wrong. + +"No, no, my boy, you needn't do that," said the man; "we're going to +get off before dinner time; an' we've got a bin full o' onions at +home. I expect they do smell kind o' strong to folks that ain't used +to 'em, but they're mighty healthy." + +Rob walked back to his seat somewhat relieved, but still very much +ashamed. He glanced up in his mother's face. She looked mortified; +still there was a twinkle in her eyes: in the bottom of her heart, +she sympathized with Rob's impulse to be rid of the onions at any +cost. + +"Oh, Rob!" she said, "how could you do such a thing? You knew they +must belong to somebody." + +"Well, I did afterwards,--after I told Nell; but, when I picked them +up, I didn't think any thing except how they smelt. It was a good +riddance anyhow." + +The sick lady, who had to lie down all the way, was in the section +next but one to Mr. March's. She had looked much amused during all +this conversation, which she could not help hearing. Mrs. March +noticed her pleasant smile, and thought she would like to do +something for her. So she gave Nelly a nice cup of hot tea to take +over to her. The lady was very grateful. + +"Oh!" she said, "this is the first good tea I have tasted since I +left home." + +Then she made Nelly sit down on the bed beside her, and talked to +her so sweetly that Nelly felt as if she had known her all her life; +and pretty soon she told her all about Mrs. Napoleon. + +"Bring her here. Let me see her," said the lady. + +"Oh, I can't bear to have anybody see her!" said Nelly: "she looks +awful." + +"Never mind: we'll draw the curtains, and nobody else shall see." + +So she called her nurse, who was sitting near; and, as soon as Nelly +had climbed up into the berth, the nurse drew the curtains tight and +shut them together. It seemed to Mrs. March a long time before Nelly +came out. When she came she had two small parcels in her hands. They +were both in nice white tissue paper, tied up with pink ribbon. +Nelly looked as if she had been crying, but yet she looked happy; +and the sick lady had a most beautiful smile on her face. Nelly gave +one of the parcels to her mother, and said:-- + +"Mamma, will you please pack this in the bag? It is the Empress's +clothes. Perhaps I may have another doll some day that they will +fit." + +Then she handed the other parcel to her father, and said:-- + +"Please throw this out of the window, papa?" + +"What is it, Nell?" he said, surprised. + +Nelly's voice trembled a little; but she answered bravely. + +"Mrs. Napoleon, papa. That nice lady looked at her, and said she +never could be mended; and if she were me, she'd throw her right +away. She says I'll feel better as soon as she is out of my sight." + +Mr. March looked over at the sick lady and bowed and smiled. + +"She is quite right, Nell. You'll forget all about it much quicker. +Good-by, Mrs. Napoleon," he said, and threw the white parcel with +its pink ribbons as far as he could throw it. + +"I don't want to forget about it, papa," replied Nelly, and pressed +her face close against the window-pane, so as not to lose that last +glimpse of the package. + +Never were people gladder to reach any place than Mr. and Mrs. March +and Nelly and Rob were to reach Denver. They were so tired that they +went right to bed as soon as they entered the hotel. They did not +want any supper. The next morning, however, they were up early, all +rested and ready to look at every thing. The first thing they saw as +they walked out of the hotel door, was a long range of high +mountains to the south. They looked down the street on which the +hotel stood, and saw these mountains rising up like a great wall +across the end of the street. They were covered with snow +two-thirds of the way down. The lower part which was not covered +with snow was of a very dark blue color; and the upper part, where +the snow lay, shone in the sun so dazzling bright that it made their +eyes ache to look at it. The sky was as blue as blue could be, and +had not a cloud in it; and some of the sharp peaks of the mountains +looked as if they were really cutting through the sky. Mr. and Mrs. +March and Nelly and Rob all stood still in the middle of the street +looking at the beautiful sight. Several carriages and wagons came +very near running over them, but they hardly observed it. No one of +them spoke for some minutes: even Rob was overawed by the grandeur +of the mountains. But his overawed silence did not last long. In a +few minutes, he broke out with:-- + +"Bully mountains! ain't they? Come on!" Mr. and Mrs. March laughed. + +"Well, Rob," said his father, "you've brought us to our senses: +haven't you? But I do wish you wouldn't talk slang." + +"No, Rob," said his mother. "How many times have I asked you not to +say 'bully'?" + +"I know it, mother," replied Rob; "but you don't tell me any other +word to say instead of it. A fellow must say something; and 'bully' +'s such a bully word. I don't believe there's any other word that's +good for any thing when things are 'bully.'" + +"Oh, dear Rob! dear Rob! Three times in one sentence! What shall we +do to you? We will really have to hire you to leave off that word, +as grandpa hired you to drink cold water, at so much a week." + +"Mamma," said Rob, solemnly, "you couldn't hire me to leave off +saying 'bully.' Money wouldn't pay me: I try not to say it often, +because you hate it so; but I don't expect to leave it off till I'm +a man. I just have to say it sometimes." + +"Oh, Rob, you don't 'have' to say it!" exclaimed Nell. "Nobody 'has +to say' any thing." + +"Girls don't," said Rob, patronizingly: "but girls are different; +I'm always telling you that girls don't need words like boys. It's +just like whistling: girls needn't whistle; but a boy--why, a boy'd +die if he couldn't whistle." + +"I can whistle," said Nell. "I can whistle most as well as you." + +"You can't, Nell," exclaimed Rob, utterly astonished. + +For reply, Nelly quietly whistled a bar of Yankee Doodle. Rob stared +at her. + +"Why, so you can!" said he. "I didn't know girls ever whistled: I +thought they were made so they couldn't." + +"Oh, no!" said Mrs. March; "I used to be a great whistler when I was +a girl; but I never let anybody hear me, if I could help it. And +Nelly knows that it is not lady-like for a girl to whistle. She +likes to whistle as well as you like to say 'bully,' however; so you +might leave off that as well as she can leave off whistling." + +"But you used to whistle all alone by yourself," persisted Rob; "and +it is just as good fun to whistle all alone as with other people; +but it wouldn't be any fun to go off all alone, and say 'bully! +bully! bully!'" + +Mrs. March put her hands over her ears, and exclaimed: "Oh, Rob! +Rob! That makes six times! That dreadful word!" + +"Oh!" said Rob, pretending to be very innocent, "do you mind my +saying it that way? That wasn't saying it really: only talking about +it," and Rob gave his mother a mischievous look. + +The streets were thronged with people; everybody seemed in a hurry; +the shop windows were full of just such things as one sees in shop +windows at the East; through street after street they walked, +growing more and more surprised every moment. + +"Why, Robert," said Mrs. March, "except for the bustling and excited +air of the people, I should not know that I was not in an Eastern +city." + +"Nor I," said Mr. March: "I am greatly astonished to see such a +civilized-looking place." + +Just then an open carriage rolled past them. It was a beautiful +carriage, lined with red satin. + +"Oh, mamma! there is the nice lady who was in the cars," said Nelly: +"let me go and speak to her." + +The lady saw them and stopped her carriage: she was very glad to see +their faces; she felt so lonely in this strange place. She was all +alone with her doctor and nurse; and already she was so homesick she +was almost ready to turn about and go home. + +"Oh! do let your little girl jump in and take a drive with me," she +said. "It will be a great favor to me if you will." + +"Oh, mamma! let me; let me," cried Nelly; and, almost before her +mother had fully pronounced the words giving her permission, she was +climbing up the carriage steps. As she took her seat by the lady's +side, she looked wistfully back at Rob. Mrs. Williams (that was the +lady's name) observed the glance, and said: "Won't you let the +little boy come too? Would you like to come, dear?" + +"No, thank you," said Rob: "I'd rather walk. I can see better." + +"Oh, Rob! how can you?" exclaimed Nelly, but the driver touched his +horses with the whip, and they were off. + +What a drive that was for Nelly! She never forgot it. It was her +first sight of the grand Rocky Mountains. The city of Denver lies on +a great plain; about thirty miles away stands the mountain range; +between the city and the mountains runs a river,--the Platte +River,--which has green trees along its bank. Mrs. Williams took +Nelly out on high ground to the east, from which she could look over +the whole city, and the river, and out to the beautiful mountains. +Some of the peaks were as solid white as white clouds, and looked +almost like clouds suddenly made to stand still in the skies. Mrs. +Williams loved mountains very much; and, as she looked at Nelly's +face, she saw that Nelly loved them too. Nelly said very little; but +she kept hold of Mrs. Williams's hand, and, whenever they came to a +particularly beautiful view, she would press it so hard that once or +twice Mrs. Williams cried out: "Dear child, you hurt me: don't +squeeze so tight;" upon which Nelly, very much ashamed, would let go +of her hand for a few minutes, but presently, in her excitement, +would be holding it again as tight as ever. Mrs. Williams was a +widow lady: she had lost her husband and her only child--a little +girl about Nelly's age--only two years before, and she had been an +invalid ever since. As soon as she saw Nelly's face in the cars, she +had fancied that she looked like her little girl who was dead. Her +name was Ellen too, and she had always been called Elly; so that +Nelly's name had a familiar sound to her. Mrs. Williams was a very +rich lady; and, if Nelly's father and mother had been poor people, +she would have asked them at once to give Nelly to her. But, of +course, she knew that that would be out of the question; so all she +could do was to try to make Nelly have a good time as long as she +was with her. After they had driven all about the city, and had seen +all there was to see, she said to the driver: + +"Now go to the best toy store in the city." Nelly did not hear this +direction: she was absorbed in looking at the mountains. So she was +much surprised when they stopped at the shop, and Mrs. Williams +said:-- + +"Now, Nelly dear, I want you to go in and buy something for me: will +you? I can't get out of the carriage myself." + +"Yes indeed," exclaimed Nelly, "if I can; but I never went into a +shop alone in my life. Mamma always goes with me. Can't I bring what +you want out here for you to look at?" + +Mrs. Williams laughed. + +"You'll be a better judge of it than I, Nell," she said. "It is a +wax doll I want for a young friend of mine,--just about such an one +as you had in the cars." + +Wasn't Nelly a very simple little girl never to think that Mrs. +Williams meant to buy it for her? She never so much as thought of +it. "Oh!" said she, "how glad she'll be! I hope she'll have better +luck with it than I had. You tell her not to take her on any +journeys. Is it your own little girl?" + +Then Nelly saw the tears come in Mrs. Williams's eyes: her lips +quivered, and she said:-- + +"My own little girl is in heaven; but this doll is for a little girl +I love very much, who looks like my little girl. Run in, dear, and +see what you can find." + +The shopkeeper looked quite surprised to see such a little girl +coming up to the counter, and asking if he had any big wax dolls +with eyes which would open. + +"Yes, sis," he said, "we have two; but they cost too much money for +you, I reckon." + +Nelly did not like being called "sis." + +"My name is not sis," she said, "and the doll is for a sick lady out +in the carriage. Won't you please bring them out for her to look +at?" and Nelly turned, and walked out of the shop. + +"Hoity toity!" said the man. "What airs we put on, don't we, for +small fry! Eastern folks, I reckon;" but he went to a drawer, and +took out his two wax dolls, and carried them to the carriage. Each +doll was in a box by itself. One was dressed in pink satin, and one +in white muslin. + +"Which is the prettiest, Nelly?" said Mrs. Williams. + +"Oh, the one in white muslin,--ever so much the prettiest! My mamma +says satin is very silly on dolls, and I think so too. Mrs. Napoleon +had a blue satin dress, and I gave it to Mabel Martin. She never +wore it but once,--the day she came; she had it on when she was in +the stocking; but I hated it on her." + +"In the stocking!" said Mrs. Williams; "that big doll never went +into a stocking. What do you mean?" + +"Oh, not into a common stocking!" said Nelly; "into one of my +grandpa's stockings. Mamma always hangs his stockings up for us at +Christmas." + +Mrs. Williams was still more perplexed. + +"Why, child," she said, "how big is your grandpa? Is he a giant?" + +"Oh, no!" laughed Nelly, "he isn't very big; but these are great +stockings he had made to sleep in. They come all the way up his +legs,--both parts of his leg,--way up above his knee, as far as his +legs go, so as to keep him warm when he's asleep. He doesn't sleep +in any night-gown." + +Mrs. Williams laughed heartily at this, and was about to ask Nelly +some other questions, when the storekeeper interrupted her with:-- + +"Can't stand here all day, mum. Do ye want the dolls or not: say +quick." + +Mrs. Williams was not accustomed to be spoken to in this manner, and +she looked at him in surprise. + +"Oh!" he said, in answer to her look, "you ain't in the East, you'll +find out. We Western men've got too much to do to dangle round all +day on a single trade. Do ye want the dolls? If not, I'll take 'em +back." + +"I am sorry you are in such a hurry all the time, sir," said Mrs. +Williams, slowly: "it must be very disagreeable. I will take one of +these dolls as soon as this little girl has decided which one is the +prettiest." + +"Oh, the white-muslin-gown one, ever so much," exclaimed Nelly. + +"Very well. You may put it up for me," said Mrs. Williams, taking +out her purse. "How much does it cost?" + +"Ten dollars," said the man. + +"Oh, oh!" exclaimed Nelly, "mine was only five, and it was just as +big as this one." + +The man looked a little embarrassed. The doll did not really cost +ten dollars: it had only cost five; but he thought Mrs. Williams +looked like a rich lady, and he might as well ask all he could get. + +"Well, this cost me six dollars in New York," he said; "but there +isn't much sale for them here: you can have it for seven." + +Mrs. Williams paid him the seven dollars, and they drove away with +the box with the doll in it, lying in Nelly's lap. Presently Nelly +said:-- + +"Oh, Mrs. Williams, won't you let me send all Mrs. Napoleon's +clothes to the little girl this dolly's for? I think they'd fit this +dolly: don't you?" + +"You dear little thing!" exclaimed Mrs. Williams; "would you really +send all those pretty clothes to a little girl you don't know?" + +"But you know her," said Nelly, "and you said you loved her; so I'd +like to have her have them. Besides, I don't believe I'll ever have +another dolly like Mrs. Napoleon: at any rate, not for a great many +years." + +"Very well, dear," replied Mrs. Williams: "I will take them. She +will be all the more pleased to get so many extra suits. When we +stop at the hotel, you can give them to me." + +"The waterproof is torn some," said Nelly: "I guess mamma'll mend +it." + +"Oh, never mind!" said Mrs. Williams. "This little girl's mamma is a +very kind mamma: she can mend it." + +When they stopped at the hotel, Nelly raced upstairs and burst into +her mother's room. + +"Mamma!" she exclaimed almost as breathlessly as Rob was in the +habit of speaking, "mamma, give me all Mrs. Napoleon's clothes. The +sick lady's bought a beautiful wax doll--just Mrs. Napoleon's +size--her name's Mrs. Williams--I asked her--and she's going to send +it to a little girl she loves very much--her own little girl's +dead--and I want her to have those clothes too, because Mrs. +Williams is so kind; oh, she's the sweetest lady! Give me the +clothes, quick!" + +Mrs. March was looking in a trunk for them while Nelly ran on. She +smiled as she handed them to Nelly. + +"Are you sure you will not want them yourself, Nell?" she said; "you +might have a doll that they'd just fit." + +"I don't believe I ever will, mamma," said Nelly, "and even if I do, +I'd rather give these clothes away. Mrs. Williams is such a sweet +lady--you don't know, mamma!" And Nelly ran downstairs with the +package in her hand. As she left the room, Rob said to his +mother:-- + +"Mamma, I bet she's bought the doll for Nell! Wouldn't that be fun? +Nell's such a goose she'd never suspect any thing!" + +"Hush, Rob!" said Mrs. March; "don't put such an idea into Nell's +head. It isn't at all likely." + +"Well, you'll see, mamma. I'll bet you any thing." + +"Ladies don't 'bet,' Rob; and you know mamma hates to hear you say +the word." + +"Oh, dear, mamma!" groaned Rob, "you hate all the nice words! I wish +ladies were just like boys!" + +Late that evening, after Rob and Nelly were fast asleep, a large +parcel was brought to their rooms, addressed to Mrs. March. She +opened it, and found inside--sure enough, as Rob had said--the +beautiful wax doll which Nelly had told them about; and, in the box +with the doll, the little bundle of all Mrs. Napoleon's clothes. A +note from Mrs. Williams to Mrs. March was pinned on the outside of +the package. She said:-- + + "MY DEAR MRS. MARCH,--Will you allow me to give this doll to + your dear, sweet little daughter, to supply the place of the + lost Mrs. Napoleon. If you knew how great a pleasure it is to + me to do this, I am sure you would not refuse it. Your little + girl reminds me so strongly of my own little Elly, who died two + years ago, that I only wish I could have her always with me. + + "Truly your friend, although a stranger, + + "ISABELLA WILLIAMS." + +"Well, Rob was right!" exclaimed Mrs. March, as she read this note. +"See, Robert, what a beautiful doll has come for Nelly from that +invalid lady she went to drive with this afternoon. Rob said she had +bought it for Nelly, but I didn't believe it. I don't exactly like +to take such a valuable present from a stranger." + +Mr. March was reading the note. + +"But we could not refuse," he said. "It would be cruel, when she +wants to give it to Nelly because she looks so like her little child +that is dead." + +"No," said Mrs. March; "of course we could not refuse." + +"She had one of the sweetest and saddest faces I ever saw," said Mr. +March. "I do not think she will live long. I wish we could do +something for her." + +"I will go and see her to-morrow morning, and thank her for the +doll," said Mrs. March; "and then I will find out whether we can do +any thing for her or not. I shall not let Nelly know any thing about +the doll till we are all settled. I will pack it away in my trunk." + +"Yes, that will be much wiser," said Mr. March; "we won't have a +second Mrs. Napoleon disaster." + +Later in the evening, Deacon and Mrs. Plummer arrived; and the next +day was very much taken up in discussing plans with them, and making +arrangements for going on their journey; and it was late in the +afternoon before Mrs. March found time to go to the hotel where Mrs. +Williams was staying. She found, to her great sorrow, that Mrs. +Williams had left town at noon. She had gone, the landlord said, to +Idaho Springs; where he believed she was to take the hot baths. Mrs. +March wrote a note to her immediately, and the landlord said he +would forward it; but he was not sure of her address, and Mrs. March +was very much afraid it would never reach her. + +The Marches stayed in Denver a week, but they did not hear a word +from Mrs. Williams, and Mrs. March reproached herself very much for +not having gone to see her early the next morning after the doll +came. + +"It is evident," she said, "that she never got my note; and what +must she have thought of us for not acknowledging such a beautiful +present. It will worry me always, as often as I see the doll." + + + + +CHAPTER V + +FIRST GLIMPSES OF COLORADO AND A NEW HOME + + +Just one week from the day they had reached Denver they set out +again on their journey southward. They were going to a beautiful +place in the mountains, called the Ute Pass. It really is a canyon: +you remember I tried to explain to you what a canyon is like. This +canyon is called the Ute Pass because a tribe of Indians named the +Utes used to come and go through it when they were journeying from +one hunting ground to another. A little stream comes down through +this pass, which is called the Fountain Creek. It leaps and tumbles +from rock to rock, and is always in a foam. A great many years ago, +some Frenchmen who were here named it "The fountain that boils." +Part of the canyon is very narrow, and the rocky walls are very +high. There is a good road through it now, close beside the brook; +but when the Indians used to go through it there was no road: they +had a little narrow path; some parts of it are still to be seen high +up on the ledges of the rock, wherever there is room enough for a +pony to get foothold. It looks like a little, worn track which sheep +or goats might have made; you would never believe, to look at it, +that great bands of Indians on ponies used to travel over it. One +thing they used to come down for was to drink the waters of some +springs which bubble up out of the rocks at the mouth of the canyon. +These are very strange. They bubble up so fast that they look as if +they were boiling: this is why the Frenchmen called the brook "The +fountain that boils." But they are not any hotter than the water in +the brook. The Indians found out that this water would cure people +who were ill: so they used to wrap their sick people up in blankets, +and bring them on ponies over this little narrow path through the +pass, and then build their wigwams close to the springs, and stay +there for weeks, drinking the water, and bathing in it. The last +part of the canyon is not narrow: it widens out; and has little +fields and meadows and groves in it. The road through it is lined +almost all the way with green trees and bushes of different kinds; +and there is a beautiful wild-hop vine which grows in great +abundance, and climbs up the trees, and seems to be tying them all +up in knots together; the hop blossoms look like green tassels at +every knot. Does not this sound like a lovely place to live in? Mr. +and Mrs. March thought so; they had seen several pictures of it; and +a man who had lived two years there told them about it, and tried to +persuade them to buy his house and land. But old Deacon Plummer was +too wise to buy till they had tried it. + +"No, no," he said; "we'll hire it for six months first, and see how +it works. It may be all true as you say about the cattle's grazin' +well up and down them rocks; but I'd rather hev medder land any day. +We'll hire, to begin with." + +So they had rented the man's house and land for six months, and had +bought all his cows: the cows were still on the place. Then they +bought a nice wagon, with three seats and a white top to it, very +much like the butchers' carts you see going round with meat to sell +in country villages. All the farmers in Colorado drive in such +wagons. Then they had bought two horses. The horses and the wagon +were to go with them on the cars. I must tell you about the horses. +They had such queer names! One was a dark red, and he was called +"Fox." He had a narrow head and a sharp nose; and really his face +did look like a fox's face. The other horse was of a very queer +shade of reddish yellow, with a good deal of white about him; his +forefeet were white, and his mane was almost white; and, if you will +believe it, his name was "Pumpkinseed"! The man the Marches bought +him of did not know why he was called so. He himself had only owned +him a year; and, when he asked the man he bought him of how he came +to give the horse such a queer name, he said he "didn't know. The +old woman named him; mebbe she thought he was kind o' the color of +pumpkin-seed, sort o' streaked with yaller 'n' white." Rob was +delighted with this name. He kept singing it over and over: +"Pumpkinseed! Pumpkinseed! We've got a horse called +Pumpkinseed!"--till his mother begged him to stop. + +The railroad which runs southward from Denver is the kind of +railroad called a narrow-gauge railroad. This means that the track +is only about two-thirds the width of ordinary railroad tracks; and +the cars and the engines are made small to match the track. You +can't think how droll a train of such little cars looks when you +first see it; it looks like a play train. A gentleman I know said a +funny thing the first time he saw a little narrow-gauge train +puffing along behind its little engine; he turned to his wife: "Look +here, wife," said he; "let's buy that and send it home to the +children to play with." + +When Rob and Nelly first stepped into the little car, they +exclaimed, "What a funny car!" On one side the car there were double +seats in which two people could sit; on the other side were single +seats, rather tight even for one person. Nelly and Rob both ran to +get two of these little seats. + +"Hurrah!" said Rob, as he sat down in this; "I'm going in a high +chair! Mamma, ain't this just like a baby's high chair?" + +"Yes, just about, Rob," said Mr. March, who had taken his seat in +one, and found it too tight for comfort. + +But they soon ceased to wonder at the little seats, for they found +so much to look at out of the car windows. The journey from Denver +to the town of Colorado Springs, where they were to leave the cars, +takes four hours and a half: the road lies all the way on the +plains, but runs near the lower hills of the mountain ranges on the +right; about half way, it crosses what is called the "Divide." That +is a high ridge of land, with great pine groves on it, and a +beautiful little lake at the top. This is over eight thousand feet +high. + +Down the south side of this, the cars run swiftly by their own +weight, just as you go down hill on a sled: the engine does not have +to draw them at all. In fact, they have to turn the brakes down some +of the time to keep the cars from going too fast. + +Nelly and Rob sat sidewise in their seats with their faces close to +the window, all the way. They had never seen such a country. Every +mile new mountain tops came in sight, and new and wonderful rocks. +Some of the rocks looked like great castles, with towers to them. +More than once Rob called out:-- + +"There, mamma! that one is a castle: I know it is. It can't possibly +be a rock." + +And it was hard even for the grown people to believe that they were +merely rocks. Old Deacon and Mrs. Plummer were almost as much +excited as Rob and Nelly. The Deacon, however, was looking with a +farmer's eye at the country. He did not like to find so much snow: +as far as he could see in all directions, there was a thin coating +of snow over the ground. The yellow grass blades stood up above it +like little masts of ships under water. Everywhere he looked he saw +cattle walking about. They did not look as if they were contented; +and they were so thin, you could see their bones when they came +close to the cars. + +At last the Deacon said to Mr. March:-- + +"Here's their stock runnin' out all winter, that we've heard so much +on; but it appears to me, it's mighty poor-lookin' stock. I don't +see how in natur' the poor things get a livin' off this dried grass, +half buried up in snow." + +"Ah, sir!" spoke up a man on the seat behind Mr. March; "you do not +know how much sweeter the hay is, dried on the stalk, standing. +There is no such hay in the world as the winter grasses in +Colorado." + +"Do you keep stock yourself, sir?" asked the Deacon. + +"No, I've never been in the stock business myself," the man replied; +"but I have lived in this State five years, and I know it pretty +well; and it's the greatest country for stock in the world, +sir,--yes, the greatest in the world." + +Deacon Plummer smiled, but did not ask any more questions. After +this enthusiastic man had left the car, the Deacon said quietly, +pointing to a poor, lean cow who was sniffing hungrily at some +little tufts of yellow grass near the railroad track: "I'd rather +have her opinion than his. If the critter could speak, I guess she'd +say, 'Give me a manger full of good medder hay, in a Massachusetts +barn, in place of all this fine winter grass of Colorado.'" + +Rob and Nelly laughed out at this idea of the cow's being called in +as witness. + +"I guess so too," said Rob; "don't she look hungry, though?" + +Just before they reached the town of Colorado Springs, they suddenly +saw, a short distance off, on the right-hand side of the railroad +track, two enormous red rocks, rising like broken pieces of a high +wall; they looked thin, like slabs. One of them was deep brick red, +and the other was a sort of pink. + +"Oh, mamma! look quick, look quick," exclaimed Nelly: "what can +those red rocks be?" + +"They are the Gates of the Garden of the Gods," said the conductor, +who was passing at that moment; "the Garden lies just behind them, +and you drive in between those high rocks." + +Even while he was passing, the rocks disappeared from view. Nelly +looked at them with awe-stricken eyes. + +"The Garden of the Gods, sir!" she said; "what does that mean? What +gods? Do they worship heathen gods in this country?" + +A lady who was sitting opposite Nelly laughed aloud at this +question. + +"I don't wonder you ask such a question," she said: "it is one of +the most absurd names ever given to a place, and I cannot find out +who gave it. Those high rocks that you saw are like a sort of +gateway into a great field which is full of very queer-shaped rocks. +Most of them are red, like the gates; some of them have uncouth +resemblances to animals or to human heads. There is one that looks +like a seal, and another like a fish standing on its tail, and +peering up over a rock. There are a good many cedar-trees and pines +in this place, and in June a few flowers; but, for the most part, it +is quite barren. The soil is of a red color, like the rocks; and the +grass is very thin, so that the red color shows through; and you +couldn't find a place in all Colorado that looks less like a +garden." + +"But why did they say 'gods'?" asked Nelly; "did they mean the old +gods? My papa has told me about them,--Jupiter, and his wife, Juno. +Is this where they lived?" + +The lady laughed again. "I can't tell you about that, dear," she +said. "I think they thought the place was so grand that it looked +as if it ought to belong to some beings greater than human beings: +so they said 'gods.' I think myself it would have been a good name +for it to call it the 'Fortress of the Gods,' or 'The Tombs of the +Giants;' but not the 'Garden of the Gods.' I shouldn't want it even +for my own garden; and I'm only a commonplace woman. But it is a +very wonderful place to see. You will be sure to go there, for all +strangers are taken to see it." + +"Do you live in Colorado, madam?" asked Mrs. March. + +"Oh, yes!" replied the lady: "Colorado Springs, the little town we +are just coming to, is my home." + +"Do you like it?" asked Mrs. March, anxiously. + +"Like it!" replied the lady: "like is not a strong enough word. I +love it. I love these mountains so that, whenever I go away from +them, I miss them all the time; and I keep seeing them before me all +the while, just as you see the face of a dear friend you are +separated from. I should be very ungrateful, if I did not love the +place; for it has simply made me over again. I came out here three +years ago on a mattress, with my doctor and nurse, and thought it +very doubtful if I lived to get here; and I have been perfectly well +ever since." + +"Did you have asthma?" asked Rob, turning very red as soon as he had +asked the question. He was afraid it was improper. "My papa has the +asthma." + +"Oh, if that is your papa's trouble, he will be sure to be entirely +well. Nobody can have asthma in Colorado," replied the lady. "It is +the one thing which is always cured here. My own trouble was only a +throat trouble." + +"I am very glad to hear you speak so confidently about the asthma," +said Mrs. March: "my husband has been a great sufferer from it, and +it is for that we have come." + +"You have done the very wisest thing you could have done," said the +lady "you will never be sorry for it. But here we are; good +morning." + +The train was already stopping in front of a little brown wooden +building, and the brakeman called out: "Colorado Springs." + +"What a pleasant lady!" said Nelly to her mother. + +"Yes," said Mrs. March; "but it was partly because she told us such +good news for papa." + +As they stepped out on the platform, they were almost deafened by +the shouts of two black men, who were calling out the names of two +hotels: two omnibuses belonging to the different hotels were +standing there, and each black man was trying to get the most +passengers for his hotel. Each man called out:-- + +"Free 'bus--this way to the free 'bus--only first-class hotel in the +city." + +"Mercy on us!" exclaimed Mrs. March. "Let us go to the one who +speaks the lowest, if there is any difference. They must think +railroad travellers are all deaf! It makes no difference to which +one we go just for a dinner. We shall drive home this afternoon." + +So saying, she stepped into the nearest omnibus, and the rest of the +party followed her. In a moment more, the driver cracked his whip, +and the four horses set off on a full gallop up the hill which lies +between the railway station and the town. As they drew near the +hotel door, the driver turned such a sharp corner, all at full +speed, that the omnibus swung round on the wheels of one side, and +pitched so violently that it threw both Nelly and Rob off their +seats into the laps of their father and mother who sat opposite. + +"Hullo!" exclaimed Rob, picking himself up, "this is the way the +gods drive, I suppose!" + +His mother looked reprovingly at him; but he only laughed and +said:-- + +"They call every thing after the gods, don't they? So I thought that +pitch was the same sort." + +After dinner, Deacon Plummer harnessed Fox and Pumpkinseed into the +new wagon, and they set out for their new home. It was a beautiful +afternoon; as warm and bright as a May day in New England. There was +no snow to be seen except on the mountains, which rose like a great +blue wall with white peaks to the west of the town. + +"Now this feels something like," said the Deacon, as they set out; +"this is like what they told us. I wonder if it's been this way all +winter." + +They drove five miles straight towards the mountains. Nelly had +taken her picture of Pike's Peak out of the travelling-bag, and held +it in her hand. Now she could look up from it to the real mountain +itself, and see if the picture were true. + +"I don't care for the picture any more, papa," said Nelly, "now I've +got the mountain. The picture isn't half so beautiful." And Nelly +hardly took her eyes from the shining, snowy summit till they were +so close to its base that it was nearly shut out from their sight by +the lower hills. + +They drove through the little village at the mouth of the Ute Pass. +Here they saw two large hotels, and half a dozen small houses and +shops. This little village is called Manitou. The Indians named it +so. Manitou means "Good Spirit," and they thought the Good Spirit +had made the waters bubble up out of the rocks here to cure sick +people. A few rods beyond the last house, they entered the real +pass. Now their surprises began. On each side of them were high +walls of rock: at the bottom of the right-hand wall was just room +enough for the road; on the left hand they looked over a steep +precipice down to a brook which was rushing over great stones, and +leaping down with much roar and foam from one basin to another; +there was no fence along this left-hand side of the road, and as +Mrs. March looked over she shuddered, and exclaimed:-- + +"Oh, Robert, let me get out! I never can drive up this road: let us +all walk." + +Mr. March himself thought it was dangerous; so he stopped the +horses, and Mrs. March and Mrs. Plummer and the two children got out +to walk. Nelly and Rob did not look where they were walking; they +were all the while looking up at the great rocks over their heads, +which jutted out above the road like great shelves: some rose up +high in the air like towers; they were all of a fine red color, or +else of a yellowish brown; and they were full of sharp points, and +deep lines were cut in them; and a beautiful green lichen grew on +many of them. Sometimes they were heaped up in piles, so that they +looked as if they might tumble down any minute; sometimes they were +hollowed out in places that looked as if they were made for niches +for statues to stand in; on one high hill was a strange pile, built +up so solid and round it looked like a pulpit. Mrs. March and Nelly +and Rob were standing still, looking at this, when a man who passed +by, seeing they were strangers, called out:-- + +"That's Tim Bunker's Pulpit." + +"Who's Tim Bunker?" cried Rob; but the man was riding so fast he did +not hear him. + +"Oh, Nell! if it isn't too far we'll climb up there some day: won't +we?" said Rob. "Mamma, don't you suppose we're pretty near our +house?" + +"I think not, Rob," replied Mrs. March; "there cannot be any place +for a house while the pass is so narrow." + +"Oh, mamma! mamma! come here!" shouted Nelly. She had taken one step +down from the road, and was looking over into the brook. "Here is +the most beautiful little fall you ever saw!" + +They all climbed carefully down on the broad stone where Nelly was +standing, and looked over. It was indeed a beautiful fall: not very +high,--but all one white foam from top to bottom; and the water fell +into a small pool, where the spray had frozen into a great round +rim: it looked like frosted silver. + +"That's a pretty silver bowl to catch the water in; ain't it, now?" +said Mrs. Plummer. "I'd like a drink of it." + +"What a queer country this is!" said Mrs. March "here we are walking +without any outside wraps on, and almost too warm in the sun; and +here is ice all round this pool; and I have seen little thin rims of +ice here and there on the brook all the way up." + +"It's just bully," cried Rob. "Say, mamma, I'm going down to drink +out of that bowl;" and, before they could stop him, Rob was half way +down the precipice. He found it rougher than he thought; and he had +more than one good tumble before he got down to the bed of the +brook: but he reached it, dipped his drinking-cup into the pool, +broke off a big piece of the frozen spray, and with that in one +hand, and his drinking-cup in the other, began to climb up again. +This was twice as hard as to go down,--it made Rob puff and pant, +and he lost his piece of ice before he had gone many steps,--but he +managed to carry the water up, and very much they all enjoyed it. +"It's the sweetest water I ever tasted," said Mrs. Plummer. + +"Yes," said Mrs. March, "it must be, in good part, melted snow water +out of the mountains: that is always sweet. This is the brook, no +doubt, which runs past our house. You know they said it was close to +the brook." + +"Oh, splendid!" cried Rob; "oh, mamma, isn't this a gay country? so +much nicer than an old village with streets in it, like Mayfield. +This is some fun." + +Mrs. March laughed, but she thought in her heart: + +"I hope he'll always find it fun." + +"I don't think it's fun, Rob," said Nelly, slowly. + +"Why not, Nell?" exclaimed Rob; "why don't you like it?" + +"I do like it," said Nell, earnestly; "I like it better than any +thing in all the world; but I don't think it's fun. It's lots better +than fun." + +"Well, what'd you call it, if you don't call it fun?" said Rob, in a +vexed tone. + +Nelly did not answer. + +"Why don't you say?" cried Rob. + +"I'm thinking," replied Nelly: "I guess there isn't any name for it. +I don't know any." + +Just at this moment, they heard the tinkle of bells ahead, and in a +second more loud shouts and cries. They walked faster. The wagon had +been out of their sight for some time. As they turned a sharp bend +in the road now, they saw it; and they saw also another wagon +brought to a dead halt in front of it. The wagon which was coming +down was loaded high with packages of shingles. It was drawn by six +mules. They had bells on their necks, so as to warn people when they +were coming. Mr. March and Deacon Plummer had heard these bells, but +they had not known what they meant: if they had, they would have +drawn off into one of the wider bends in the road, and waited. Now +here the two wagons were, face to face, in one of the very worst +places in the road, just where it seemed barely wide enough for one +wagon alone. The rock rose up straight on one side, and the +precipice fell off sharp on the other. To make matters worse, +Pumpkinseed, who hated the very sight of a mule, and who did not +like the shining of the bright, yellow shingles, began to rear and +to plunge. The driver of the mule team sat still, and looked at Mr. +March and the Deacon surlily without speaking. Mr. March and the +Deacon looked at him helplessly, and said:-- + +"What are we going to do now?" + +"Didn't yer hear me a-coming?" growled the man. + +"No, sir," said Mr. March, pleasantly: "we are strangers here, and +did not know what the bells meant." + +At this the man jumped down: he was not so angry, when he found out +that they were strangers. He walked down the road a little way, and +looked, and shook his head; then he walked back in the direction he +had come from; then he came back, and said:-- + +"There's nothin' for it, mister, but you'll have to unharness your +team. My mules'll stand; I'll help you." + +So they took out Pumpkinseed and Fox, and Mr. March led them on +ahead. Then Deacon Plummer and the mule-driver pushed the wagon +backward down the road till they came to a place where there was a +curve in the road, and they could push it up so close to the rock +that there was room for another wagon to pass. There the mule-driver +drove his wagon by; and then Mr. March led Fox and Pumpkinseed down, +and harnessed them to the wagon again: all this time Mrs. March and +Mrs. Plummer and Rob and Nelly stood on the edge of the precipice, +wherever they could find a secure place, and holding on to each +other. As the mule team started on, the driver called back: "There's +three or four more behind me: you'd better keep a sharp lookout, +mister." + +"I should think so," exclaimed Deacon Plummer, "this is the perkiest +place for teams to pass in thet ever I got into. I don't much like +the thought o' comin' up and down here with all our teamin'." + +"No," said Mrs. March. "I'll never drive down here as long as I +live." + +"Never's a long word, wife," laughed Mr. March. "If we're going to +live in this Pass, I don't doubt we shall get so used to this road, +we sha'n't think any thing about it." + +The road wound like a snake, turning first one way and then the +other, and crossing the brook every few minutes. Sometimes they +would be in dark shadow, when they were close to the left-hand hill; +and then, in a minute, they would come out again into full sunlight. + +"It's just like going right back again from after sundown to the +middle of the afternoon: isn't it, mamma?" said Nelly. "How queer it +feels!" + +"Yes," said Mrs. March, "and I do not like the sundown part. I hope +our house is not in such a narrow part of the Pass as this." + +Presently they saw a white house a little way ahead, on the +right-hand side of the road. A high, rocky precipice rose +immediately behind it; and the brook seemed to be running under the +house, it was so close to it. The house was surrounded by tall pine +and fir trees; and, on the opposite side of the road the hill was so +steep and high that already, although it was only three o'clock in +the afternoon, the sun had gone down out of sight, and the house was +dark and cold. The whole party looked anxiously at this house. + +"That can't be it, can it?" said Mrs. March. + +"Oh, no!" said Mr. March; "it isn't in the least such a house as the +photograph showed: but I will stop and ask." + +A man was chopping wood a few steps from the house. Mr. March called +to him. + +"This isn't Garland's, is it?" + +Instead of replying, the man laid down his axe, and walked slowly +out to the road, staring very hard at them all. + +"Be you the folks that's comin' to live to Garland's?" he said. + +"Yes," said the Deacon; "and we hope this isn't the place; if 'tis, +we hain't been told the truth, that's all." + +"Oh, Lor', no," laughed the man. "This ain't Garland's; his place's +two mile farther on. That ain't no great shakes of a place, +either,--Garland's ain't; but he's got more land'n we have. There +ain't land enough here to raise a ground mole in. I'm sick on 't." + +"You don't get daylight enough to raise any thing, for that matter," +said Mr. March; "here it is the middle of the afternoon, by the +clock, and past sundown for you." + +"I know it," said the man; "but there's something in the air here +which kind o' makes up for every thing. I don't know how 'tis, but +we've had our healths first rate ever since we've lived here. But +I'm going to move down to the Springs: it's too lonesome up here, +and there ain't nothin' to do. Be you goin' into stock?" + +"Not much," said Mr. March. "We are only trying an experiment here: +we have bought all Garland's cows." + +"Have ye?" said the man. "Well, Garland had some first-rate cattle; +but they're pretty well peaked out now. Cattle gets dreadful poor +here, along in March and April: ye'd reelly pity 'em. But it's +amazin' how they pick up's soon's the grass comes in June. It don't +seem to hurt 'em none to be kinder starved all winter. Come and see +us: we're neighborly folks out'n this country. My wife she'll be +glad to know there's some wimmen folks in the Pass. She's been the +only woman here for a year. Garland he bached it: he hadn't no +wife." + +Rob and Nelly had listened silently with wide-open eyes and ears to +this conversation; but at this last statement Rob's curiosity got +the better of him. + +"What is baching it?" said he, as they drove off. + +The man laughed. + +"Ask your father: he'll tell you," he said. + +"What is it, papa?" said Rob. + +"I suppose it is for a man to live all alone, without any wife. You +know they call unmarried men 'old bachelors,' after they get to be +thirty or thirty-five. But I never heard the word before." + +"Oh!" said Rob; "is that all? I thought 'twas a trade he had,--or +something he sold or made." + +"Well," said the Deacon; "any man that could live up here in this +stone gully, without his wife along, I don't think much of. It's the +lonesomest place, for an out-doors place, that ever I saw." + +"Oh, I think it's splendid!" said Rob. + +"So do I," said Nelly. "It's perfectly beautiful!" + +"Ain't it a comfort, Mrs. March," said Mrs. Plummer, "how children +always do take to new places?" + +"We don't either," cried Rob; "I hate some places I've seen. But +this is splendid. Just you look at those rocks: you bet I'll pitch +'em down! I'm going up on to every one of the highest rocks I can +find." + +"Oh, Rob! you'll break your neck," said Mrs. March. "I shall not +allow you to climb, unless your father is with you." + +"Now, mamma"--Rob was beginning when, suddenly catching sight of a +house, he exclaimed:-- + +"There 'tis! That's like the picture. And there's the barn! I saw it +first! Oh, hurry! hurry!" And in his excitement Rob stood up in the +wagon. + +Yes, there it was. It had looked better in the photograph which Mr. +Garland had showed to Mr. March than it did in reality. It was a +small, unpainted pine house; without any piazza or blinds. The +windows were small; the front door was very small; there was no +fence between it and the road; and all the ground around it had +been left wild. It was really a desolate-looking place. + +"Why, there isn't any yard!" exclaimed Nelly. + +"Yard!" said her mother; "why, it is _all_ yard, child. As far as +you can see in every direction, it is all our yard." + +Mrs. March's heart had really sunk within her at the sight of the +place. The house was nothing more than she would have called a +shanty at home; but she was resolved, no matter what happened to +them, never to let her husband see that she found any thing hard. So +she spoke cheerfully about the yard; and, as they were getting out +of the wagon, she said:-- + +"How nice and open it is here! See, Robert, the sun is still an hour +high, I should think. This is a lovely place." + +Mr. March shook his head. He did not like the appearance of things. +Mrs. Plummer had bustled ahead into the house. In a moment she came +back, followed by a man. This was the man who had been left by Mr. +Garland in charge of the house, and who was to stay and work for Mr. +March. + +"Bless my eyes!" he exclaimed; "you've took me by surprise. I hain't +had no letter from Garland. He said he'd write and let me know when +you'd be up. I calculated to have spruced up considerable before you +come in. We've bached it here so long 'tain't much of a place for +wimmen folks to come to." + +"Oh, never mind!" said Mrs. March; "Mr."--she hesitated for a name; +"I don't think I've heard your name--" + +"Zeb, ma'am; Zeb's my name. Don't go by any other name since I've +been in these mountains," said the man, pulling off his old woollen +cap, and making an awkward bow to Mrs. March, whose pleasant smile +and voice had won his liking at once. + +"Never mind, then, Zeb," Mrs. March continued: "we have not come +expecting to find things as we had them at home. We shall call it a +picnic all the time." + +"Well, that's about what it is, mum, most generally in this +country's fur's I've seen it," said Zeb, thinking at that moment, +with a dreadful misgiving, that he had no meat in the house, except +salt pork; and no bread at all. He had intended to make some soda +biscuit for his own supper. "But she looks like jest one o' them +kind that can't abide soda," thought poor Zeb to himself. "An' where +in thunder be they all to sleep?" he continued; "Garland might ha' +known better than to let six folks come down on me, this way, +without any warnin'. 'Twas mighty unconsiderate of him! However, +'tain't none o' my business. I don't keep no hotel." + +While Zeb was pursuing this uncomfortable train of thought, he was +helping Deacon Plummer and Mr. March unharness the horses; he seemed +silent, and, Mr. March thought, surly; but it was in reality only +his distress at not being able to make the family more comfortable. +Finally he spoke. + +"Did Garland tell you he'd written?" + +"Oh, yes!" said Mr. March; "he said he'd written, and you would be +looking out for us." + +"Well, perhaps he wrote, and perhaps he didn't. It's as likely as +not he didn't. At any rate, if he did, the letter's down in that +Manitou post-office. I hain't never seen it: an' I may as well tell +you first as last, that I ain't no ways ready for ye. There ain't +but two beds in the whole house. I was a calculatin' to bring up one +more from the Springs next week; an' I hain't got much in the way of +provisions, either, except for the hosses. There's plenty of oats, +an' that's about all there is plenty of." + +Deacon Plummer and Mr. March were standing in the barn door: the +Deacon thrust his hands deep down in his pockets and whistled. Mr. +March looked at Zeb's face. The more he studied it, the better he +liked it. + +"Zeb," said he, "we can stay, somehow, can't we? We men can sleep on +the hay for a few nights, if the sleeping's all. What have you +really got in the way of food? That's the main thing." + +It pleased Zeb to have Mr. March say "we men." "I guess he's got +some stuff in him, if he is a parson," thought Zeb; and his face +brightened as he replied: + +"Well, if you can sleep on the hay, it's all right about the +sleepin'; but I didn't reckon you could. But that's only part o' the +trouble. However, I can jump on to a hoss and ride down to Manitou +and pick up suthin', if the wimmen folks think they can get along." + +"Get along! of course we can get along!" exclaimed Mrs. March, who +had just come out in search of her husband. "There is an iron pot +and a tea-kettle and a frying-pan and a barrel of flour and a firkin +of Graham meal; what more do we want?" and she laughed merrily. + +"Hens, mamma, hens! There are lots of hens here!" shouted Rob, +coming up at full speed; "and see this splendid shepherd dog! He +knows me already! See! he follows me!" and Rob held his hand high up +in the air to a beautiful black and white shepherd dog who was +running close behind him. + +"Yes; Watch, he's real friendly with everybody," said Zeb. "He's +lots o' company, Watch is. He knows more'n most folks. Here, Watch! +give us your paw?" + +The dog lifted one paw and held it out. + +"No, not that one--the white one!" said Zeb. + +Watch dropped the black paw, and held up the white one instantly. + +"He'll do that just's often's you'll ask him," said Zeb; "an' it's +a mighty queer thing for a dog to know black from white." + +"Oh! let me try him?" said Rob, "Here, Watch! Watch!" Watch ran to +Rob at once. + +"He does take to you, that's a fact," said Zeb. + +"Give your paw, Watch,--your white paw," said Rob. + +Watch put his white paw in Rob's hand. + +"Now your black paw," said Rob. + +Watch put down his white paw and lifted the other. + +"White, black!--white, black!" said Rob, as fast as he could +pronounce the words; and, just as fast as he said them, the dog held +up his paws. + +At this moment, Nelly appeared, her cheeks very red, carrying a +little yellow and white puppy in her arms. + +"Oh! see this dear little puppy!" she said; "doesn't he just match +Pumpkinseed?" + +"We might call him Pumpkin Blossom," said Mrs. March. + +"His name's Trotter," said Zeb. "He's jest got it learned: I guess +you can't change it very easy. Put him down, miss, and I'll show you +what he can do. I hain't taught him much yet; he's such a pup: but +there's nothin' he can't learn. Trotter, roll over!" + +The puppy lay down instantly and rolled over and over. "Faster!" +said Zeb. + +Trotter rolled faster. "Faster! faster! fast as you can!" cried Zeb; +and Trotter rolled so fast that you could hardly see his legs or his +tail; he looked like a round ball of yellow hair, with two bright +eyes in it. + +Nelly and Rob shouted with laughter, and even Mr. March and Deacon +Plummer laughed hard. They had been so busy that they had not +observed that it was growing dark. Suddenly Zeb looked up, and +said:-- + +"Ye'd better run in: it's going to be a snow flurry." + +"A snow flurry!" exclaimed Mrs. March, looking up at the bright blue +sky overhead. "Where's the snow to come from?" + +"Out o' that cloud, mum," replied Zeb, pointing to a black cloud +just coming up over the top of the hill to the west. "'T'll be here +in less than five minutes; mebbe 't'll be hail: reckon 't will." + +Sure enough, in less than five minutes the cloud had spread over +their heads, and the hail began to fall. They all stood at the +windows and watched it. Rattle, rattle, it came on the roof and +against the west windows, and the hailstones bounded off from every +place they hit, and rolled about on the ground like marbles. At +first they were very small: not bigger than pins' heads; but larger +and larger ones came every minute, until they were as big as large +plums. Rob and Nelly had never seen such hailstones; they were half +frightened, and yet the sight was so beautiful to watch, that they +enjoyed it. The storm did not last more than ten minutes; the +hailstones grew smaller again, just as they had grown larger; and +then they came slower and slower, till they stopped altogether, and +the great black cloud rolled off toward the south and left the sky +clear blue above their heads, just as it was before; and the sun +shone out, and every thing glistened like silver from the boughs of +the trees down to the blades of grass. The great hailstones were +piled up in all the hollow places of the ground, but the hot sun +shining on them began to melt them immediately; and, except where +they were in the shadow of rocks or trees or piles of boards, they +did not last long. Nelly picked up a tin pan and ran out and filled +it in a minute: then she passed them round to everybody, saying: +"Won't you have some sugared almonds?" and they all ate them and +pretended they were candy; and Rob and Nelly rolled them away from +the doorstep and made Trotter run after them. In less than ten +minutes after the storm had passed, it was so warm that they were +all standing in the open doorway, or walking about out of doors. + +"Upon my word, what a country this is!" said Mr. March. "Ten minutes +ago it was winter; now it is spring." + +"Yes," said Zeb. "That's jest the way 'tis all through the winter; +but next month ye'll get some winter in good airnest. April 'n' +May's our winter months. I've seen the snow a foot 'n' a half deep +in this Pass in May." + +"What!" exclaimed Mr. March, now really excited. "A foot and a half +of snow! What becomes of the cattle then?" + +"Oh!" said Zeb, "it never lays long: not over a day or two. This +sun'll melt snow's quick's a fire'll melt grease, 'n' quicker." + +"Then I suppose it is very muddy," said Mrs. March. + +"No, mum, never no mud to speak of; sometimes a little stretch of +what they call adobe land'll be putty muddy for a week or so; but's +a general thing the roads are dry in a day; in fact, you'll often +see the ground white with a little sprinkle of snow at eight o'clock +in the morning, and by twelve you'll see the roads dry, except along +the edges: the snow jest kind o' goes off in the air here; it don't +seem's if it melted into water at all." + +"Well, I'll give it up!" said the Deacon; "near's I can make out, +this country's a conundrum." + +Mrs. March and Mrs. Plummer now set themselves to work in good +earnest to put the little house in order. They had brought with them +only what they could carry in valises and hand-bags: all their boxes +and trunks were to come in a big wagon the next day; so there was +not much unpacking to be done. The house had only five rooms in it: +one large room, which was to be used as the kitchen and dining-room +and living-room; three small rooms which were for bedrooms; and +another room which had been used as a lumber-room. As soon as Mrs. +March looked into this room, she resolved to make it into a little +sitting-room by and by. It had one window to the east, which looked +out on the brook, and one to the south, which had a most beautiful +view down the Pass. These rooms had no plaster on the walls, and the +boards were very rough; but the Colorado pine is such a lovely shade +of yellow that rooms built of bare boards are really prettier than +most of the rooms you see which have paper on them. + +Poor Mrs. Plummer thought these bare boards were dreadful. She +worked on, industriously, helping Mrs. March do all she could; but +every few minutes she would give a great sigh, and look up at the +walls, or down at the floor, and say:-- + +"Well, Mrs. March! I never did expect to see you come to this." + +Mr. March also wore rather a long face as he stood in the doorway +and watched his wife. + +"Oh, Sarah!" he said, at last, "I can't bear to have you work like +this. I didn't realize it was going to be just such a place. I shall +go to the Springs to-morrow and get a servant for you." + +"You won't do any such thing, Robert," said Mrs. March. "There's no +room for a servant to sleep in; and I don't want one, any way. Mrs. +Plummer will give me all the help I need; and Rob and Nelly will +help too. Look at Rob now!" At that minute, Rob came puffing and +panting in at the door, with his arms full of crooked sticks, stems +of vines, and all sorts of odds and ends of drift-wood, which he had +picked up on the edge of the brook. + +"Here's kindling wood, mamma; lots of it. Zeb told me where to get +it. There's lots and lots all along the brook." And he threw down +his armful on the hearth, and was going back for more. + +"Dear boy! here is enough, and more than enough," said Mrs. March. +"You can bring me some water next; we dip it out of the brook, I +suppose." + +"Now, mamma, that's just all you know about it," replied Rob, with a +most exultant air of superiority; "there's just the nicest spring, +right across the brook, only a little bit of ways. Zeb showed me; +you come and see,--there's a bridge." + +Mrs. March followed him. Sure enough, there was a nice, fresh +spring, bubbling up out of the ground, among the bushes; it was +walled around with boards a few feet high, so that the cattle should +not trample too close to it; a narrow plank was laid across the +brook just opposite it; and it was twenty steps from the house. + +"See, mamma," said Rob, as he dipped in the pail, and drew it out +dripping full, "see how nice this is. I can bring you all the water +you want." + +"Take care! take care, Rob!" shouted his father, as Rob stepped back +on the plank. He was too late. Rob in his excitement had stepped a +little to one side of the middle of the plank; it tipped; he lost +his balance, and over he went, pail of water and all, into the +brook. The brook was not deep, and he scrambled out again in less +than a minute,--much mortified and very wet. Mrs. March could not +help laughing. + +"Well, you helped fill the brook instead of my pail; didn't you?" +she said. + +"But, mamma, I haven't got any dry clothes," said poor Rob: "what'll +I do?" + +"That's a fact, Rob," said his mother. "You'll have to go to bed +while these dry." + +"Oh, dear!" said Rob; "that's too bad!" And he walked very +disconsolately toward the house. Zeb was just riding off, with two +empty sacks hanging from his saddle pommel. + +"Zeb," called Rob; "I tumbled in the brook; and I've got to go to +bed till my clothes are dry." + +"Don't you do no such a thing," cried Zeb; "you jest walk round a +leetle lively, and your clothes'll be dry afore ye know it. Water +don't wet ye much in this country." + +"Come, now, Zeb," said the Deacon, "let's draw a line somewhere! +That's a little too big a story. I can believe ye about the snow's +not making mud, because I've seen these hailstones just melt away +into nothin' in half an hour; but when it comes to water's not +wettin', I can't go that." + +"Well, you just feel of me now!" shouted Rob; "I'm half dry +already!" + +The Deacon and Mrs. March both felt Rob's arms and shoulders. + +"'Pon my word, they ain't so very wet," said the Deacon; "was it only +just now you tumbled in?" + +"Not five minutes ago," said Mrs. March. + +"It is certainly the queerest thing I ever saw," she continued, +feeling Rob from his shoulders to his ankles: "he is really, as he +says, half dry. I'll try Zeb's advice. Rob, run up and down the road +as hard as you can for ten minutes; don't you stand still at all." + +Rob raced away, with Watch at his heels, and Mr. and Mrs. March +walked into the house, Mr. March carrying the pail filled once more +with the nice spring water. In a few minutes, as they were busily at +work, they heard a sound at the door: they looked up; there stood a +white cow, looking in on them with a mild expression of surprise. + +"Oh!" said Mr. March, "Zeb said the cows'd be coming home pretty +soon. The Deacon and I'll have to milk." + +"Yes, they're a comin'," called out the Deacon, peering over the +back of the white cow, and pushing her gently to one side, so that +he could enter the door; "they're a comin' down the road, and down +the hill up there back o' the sawmill: I jest wish ye'd come and +look at 'em. Don't know as ye'd better, either, if ye want to have a +good appetite for your supper! If ever ye see Pharaoh's lean kine, +ye'll see 'em now." + +Mr. and Mrs. March and Mrs. Plummer all ran out and stood in front +of the house, looking up the road. There came the cows, one, two, +three, all in single file, down the hill, now and then stopping to +take a nibble by the way; in the road there were half a dozen more, +walking straight on, neither turning to the right nor the left. + +"That's right, ye poor things: make for the barn; I would if I was +you. Perhaps I won't feed you a good feed o' hay 'n' corn-meal +to-night, sure's my name's Plummer!" The cows were indeed lean: you +could count every rib on their bodies, and their hip bones stuck out +like great ploughshares. + +"What a shame!" exclaimed Mrs. March. "Husband, you were imposed +upon. These cows are not worth any thing." + +"Oh, yes they be; they're first-rate stock," said the Deacon; +"first-rate stock, only they're so run down. Ye'll see I'll have 'em +so fat in four weeks ye won't know 'em." + +The cows gathered together in a little group between the two barns, +and looked very hard at these strangers they had never seen before. +They knew very well that something had happened,--they missed +Zeb,--and began to low uneasily; but when Deacon Plummer came out of +the barn with a big pitchfork full of hay, and threw it down before +them, all their anxieties were allayed. These were good friends who +had come: there was no doubt of that. Nine times the Deacon brought +out his pitchfork full of hay, and threw it on the ground, one for +each cow: and didn't they fall to and eat! + +"H'm!" said the Deacon, as he watched them. "If this is the result +of your fine winter grazin', I don't want any thing to do with it. +It's just slow starvation to my way o' thinking. Look at them +udders! There ain't a quart apiece in 'em. Our milkin' 'll be soon +over, Parson." + +"The sooner the better for me, Deacon," laughed Mr. March. "I never +did like to milk." + +"Oh! let me milk! let me milk, papa! please do!" cried Rob, who had +returned from his ten minutes' run on the road, as dry as ever. + +"And me, too! me too!" said Nelly, who was close behind. + +"Not to-night, children. It is late, and we are in a hurry," said +Mr. March. Just as he spoke, the sun sank behind the hill. Almost +instantly, a chill fell on the air. + +"Bless me," said Mr. March, "here we have winter again. Run in, +children; it is growing too cold for you to be out. What a climate +this is, to be sure! one can't keep up with it." + +While Deacon Plummer and Mr. March were milking, they talked over +their prospects. They were forced to acknowledge that there was +small chance of making a living on this farm. + +"We're took in: that's all there is on't," said the Deacon, +cheerily; "but I reckon we can grub along for six months; we can +live that long even if we don't make a cent; and now we're here, we +can look about for ourselves, and see what we're gettin' before we +make another move." + +"Yes," said Mr. March. "That's the only way to do. I confess I am +disappointed. Mr. Garland seemed such a fair man." + +The Deacon laughed. "Ye don't know human nature, Parson, the way we +men do that's knockin' round all the time among folks. Ye see folks +always comes to you when they're in trouble, or else when they're +joyful,--bein' married, or a baptizin' their babies,--or somethin' +o' ruther that's out o' the common line; so you don't never see 'em +jest exactly's they are. Now I kinder mistrusted that Garland from +the fust. He was too anxious to sell, to suit me. When a man's got a +first-rate berth, he ain't generally so ready to quit." + +When the milkers went in with their pails of milk, they found a +blazing fire on the hearth, and supper set out on a red pine table +without any table-cloth. Mrs. March had made Graham biscuit and +white biscuit, and had baked some apples which she had left in her +lunch-basket. When she saw the milk, she exclaimed:-- + +"Now, if this isn't a supper fit for a king!--bread and milk and +baked apples!" + +"Ain't there any butter?" called out Rob. + +"Yes, there is some butter; but I doubt if you will eat it," said +Mrs. March. "Zeb is going to buy some better butter at Manitou." + +Rob put some of the butter on his bread, and put a mouthful of the +bread in his mouth. In less than a second, he had clapped his hand +over his mouth with an expression of horror. + +"Oh, what'll I do, mamma? it's worse than medicine!" he cried; and +swallowed the whole mouthful at one gulp. "That can't be butter, +mamma," he said. "You've made a mistake. It'll poison us: it's +something else." + +"Little you know about bad butter, don't you, Rob?" said Deacon +Plummer, calmly buttering his biscuit, and eating it. "I've eaten +much worse butter than this." + +Rob's eyes grew big. "What'd you eat it for?" he said, earnestly. + +"Sure enough," said Mrs. Plummer. "That's what I've always said +about butter. If there's any thing else set before folks that's bad, +why they just leave it alone. There isn't any need ever of eating +what you don't like. But when it comes to butter, folks seem to +think they've got to eat it, good, bad, or indifferent." + +"That's so," said the Deacon; "and if I've heard you say so once, +Elizy, I've heard you say it a thousand times; I don't know how +'tis, but it does seem as if you had to have somethin' in shape o' +butter, if it's ever so bad, to make a meal go down." + +"I don't see how bad butter helps to make a meal go down," said Rob. +"It like to have made mine come up just now." + +"Rob, Rob!" said his mother, reprovingly; "you forget that we are at +supper." + +"Excuse me, mamma," said Rob, penitently; "but it was true." + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +LIFE AT GARLAND'S + + +This was the first night of the Marches and Plummers in their +strange new home in Colorado. When they waked up the next morning, +Mr. March and Deacon Plummer rolled up in buffalo robes on the hay +in the barn, Mrs. March and Nelly in one bed in one little bedroom, +Mrs. Plummer in another opening out of it, and Rob on an old black +leather sofa in the kitchen, they could hardly believe their eyes as +they looked around them. They all got up very early, and now their +new life had begun in good earnest. Immediately after breakfast, Mr. +March drove away in the big wagon with Fox and Pumpkinseed. He would +not tell his wife where he was going, nor take any one with him. The +truth was, that in the night Mr. March had taken two resolutions: +one was that he would get a servant for Mrs. March; the other was +that he would buy furniture enough to make the house pleasant and +comfortable, and china enough to make their table look a little like +their old home table. But he knew if he told Mrs. March what he +meant to do, she would think they ought not to spend the money. All +their own pretty china which they had used at home, she had packed +up and left behind them, saying: "We shall not want any thing of +that kind in Colorado." Mrs. March did not care about such things +half so much as Mr. March and Nelly did; that is, she could do +without them more easily. She liked pretty things very much, but she +could do without them very well if it were necessary. She watched +Mr. March driving off down the road this morning with an uneasy +feeling. + +"I don't know what Mr. March's got in his head," she said to Mrs. +Plummer; "but I think he is going to do something rash. He looks as +children do when they are in some secret mischief." + +"Why, what could it be?" said good Mrs. Plummer. "I don't see what +there is for him to do." + +"Well, we shall see," said Mrs. March. "I wish I'd made him take me +along." + +"Made him!" exclaimed Mrs. Plummer. "Can you make him do any thing +he's sot not to? I hain't never been able to do that with Mr. +Plummer, not once in all the thirty years I've lived with him. It's +always seemed to me that men was the obstinatest critters made, even +the best on 'em; an' I'm sure Mr. Plummer's as good a man's ever was +born; but I don't no more think o' movin' him if his mind's made up, +than I should think o' movin' that rock up there," pointing to a +huge rock which was at the top of one of the hills to the southwest +of the house. + +The day flew by quickly in putting their new home in order. Both +Mrs. March and Mrs. Plummer worked very hard, and Rob and Nelly +helped them. They swept and washed floors; they washed windows; they +washed even the chairs and tables,--which sadly needed it, it must +be owned. Rob and Nelly enjoyed it all as a frolic. + +"This is like last Christmas, when Sarah was drunk: isn't it, +mamma?" said Rob. "It's real fun." + +"Don't you wish Sarah was here to help you, mamma?" said Nelly. + +"No, dear," replied Mrs. March, "I do not. I would rather do all the +work ourselves, and save the money." + +"Are we very, very, very poor, mamma?" said Nelly, with a distressed +face. + +"Oh, no, dear! not so bad as that," laughed Mrs. March; "but papa's +salary has all stopped now, as I explained to you; and that was the +greater part of our income: and, till we have more money coming in +regularly from something out here, we must spend just as little as +possible." + +Just before dinner, Rob came in with a big armful of kindling-wood, +and on the top of the wood he carried a long piece of a beautiful +green vine. + +"Oh, Rob, Rob, let me see that! Where did you find it?" said his +mother. + +"Upon the hills, mamma, back of the saw-mill. There's oceans of it +up there." + +"There _is_ oceans, Rob?" said his mother. + +"There _are_ oceans, then! You knew what I meant. It's just like a +carpet; and you can pull up great, long pieces of it: it comes up +just as easy as any thing." + +Mrs. March turned the vine over and over in her hands. It had a +small glossy leaf, like the leaf of the box. Some of the long, +slender tendrils of it were bright red. + +"The leaf is so thick I think it would keep a long time," said Mrs. +March. "I wish you and Nelly would bring me several armfuls of it. +I'll tack it up all round the room: the walls won't look so bare, +then." + +"Oh, goody!" said the children; "that's just like Christmas." And +they ran off as fast as they could go. In an hour they had heaped +the whole floor with piles of the vine. The more they brought, the +more beautiful it looked: the leaves shone like satin, and there +were great mats of it nearly two yards long. Mrs. March had never +seen it before, and did not know its name. Afterward she found out +that it was the kinnikinnick vine, and that the Indians used it to +smoke in their pipes. Some of the branches had beautiful little red +berries like wintergreen berries on them. Nelly sorted these all +out by themselves; then Mrs. March stood up on a chair, and some of +the time on a table, and nailed a thick border of these vines all +round the top of the room; then she took the branches which had red +berries on them; and, wherever there was an upright beam in the +wall, she nailed on one of these boughs with the red berries and let +it hang down just as it would. Then she trimmed the fireplace and +the door and the windows. It took her about two hours to do it. When +it was all done, you would hardly have known the room. It looked +lovely: the yellow pine boards looked much prettier with the green +of the vines than any paper in the world could have looked. Rob and +Nelly fairly danced with delight. + +"Oh, mamma! mamma! it's prettier than any Christmas we ever had: +isn't it?" + +"Yes," said Mrs. March; "if the vines will only last, it is all we +need to keep our walls pretty till summer time." + +"Well, I never!" said Zeb, who came in at that moment. "If wimmen +folks don't beat all! Why, mum, ye look's if you was goin' to have +an ice-cream festival." + +Zeb's only experience of rooms decorated with green vines had been +when he had attended ice-cream festivals, given by churches to raise +money. + +"Well, we'll have one some day, Zeb," said Mrs. March, laughing; +"and we won't charge you any thing. I can make very good ice-cream." + +"Oh, to-night! to-night! mamma," exclaimed the children. + +"Can't to-night," Mrs. March said; "for the freezer's in the big box +with all the other kitchen things." + +"I might make some crullers," said Mrs. Plummer. + +"Do! do! do!" cried Rob. "Mrs. Plummer's famous for crullers!" And +he ran off, singing-- + + "Plummer! + Cruller! + Plummer! + Cruller!" + +at the top of his lungs. + +It was nearly dark before Mr. March returned. Rob was the first to +spy him. + +"Why, there's Pumpkinseed!" he exclaimed. "And what in the world's +papa got in the wagon?" And he ran down the road to meet him. All +the others ran too. The wagon did indeed present a very singular +appearance. Four red wooden legs stuck far out in front; Mr. March +was wedged in between them; high above his head bulged out a great +roll of bolsters and pillows; and as far as you could see, away back +in the wagon, there seemed to be nothing but bed-ticking, and legs +of furniture. + +"Mercy on us!" exclaimed Mrs. March; "What did I tell you, Mrs. +Plummer? That's what he went off for,--to buy furniture. Mr. March +always must have things just right. Dear me! I wish he hadn't done +it." + +But, as I told you long ago, it was Mrs. March's way always to make +the best of what couldn't be helped. So she went forward to welcome +her husband as pleasantly as if she were delighted to see all this +new furniture. + +"Ah, Robert," she said, "now I know why you wouldn't take me. You +wanted to surprise us all." + +"Yes," said Mr. March, his face beaming all over with satisfaction, +"I didn't mean you should spend another night in such a desolate +hole. There's another wagon load behind." + +At this Mrs. March could not help groaning. + +"Oh, Robert! Robert!" she said, "what did you buy so much for?" + +"Oh, part of the other load is feed for the cattle," said Mr. +March. "That I'm responsible to Deacon Plummer for. Those were his +orders." + +When the two wagons were unloaded, the space in front of the little +house looked like an auction. Rob and Nelly ran from one thing to +another, exclaiming and shouting. Mr. March had indeed furnished the +whole house. He had bought two pretty little single bedsteads for +Rob and Nelly, and a fine large bedstead for himself and Mrs. March; +he had bought mattresses and pillows and bolsters and blankets; a +whole piece of pretty rag-carpet, in gray and red stripes; two large +rocking-chairs with arms, two without, and two small low chairs; a +work-table with drawers, two bureaus, a wardrobe, and two sets of +book-shelves to hang on the walls; two student lamps, and a table +with leaves that could open out. Then he had bought a whole piece of +pretty chintz in stripes of black and green. + +"There, wife," he said, as he showed her this, last of all, "now we +can make a decent little home out of it, after a few days." + +As he spoke, he stepped into the kitchen: he started back with +surprise. + +"Why, how perfectly lovely!" he exclaimed; "where did you get it? +And what is it? I never saw a place so transformed. Why, it looks +even elegant." + +"I thought you would like it," said Mrs. March, much pleased. +"Perhaps if you had seen it so before you went away, you wouldn't +have bought so many new things." + +"Why, Sarah, I haven't bought a thing that wasn't absolutely +necessary," said Mr. March. + +"They are all very nice, dear," replied Mrs. March; "and of course +we shall be much more comfortable with them. It was very kind of +you. But haven't you spent a great deal of money?" she asked +anxiously. + +"Oh, no!" said Mr. March, "I think not; though things are much +higher here than at home. I didn't get the bills; but I don't +believe it's over two hundred dollars." + +This seemed a great deal to Mrs. March; but she said no more. And +the next day, when all the things were arranged, a square of the +rag-carpet laid on the floor, and the pretty chintz curtains at the +window, she could not help admitting to herself that life looked +much easier and pleasanter than it had before. + +"And I ought to be thankful that he did not buy more," she thought; +"and that he could not find a servant to bring out here." + +On inquiring after servants, Mr. March had found that it was almost +impossible to get any good ones; and their wages were so high, he +had at once given up all idea of hiring one now. + +"I'll let you try it, Sarah, for the present," he said, "but, if I +see you in the least breaking down, I shall have a servant, if I +have to send home for one." + +"I won't break down," said Mrs. March; "I never felt so well in my +life. I am never tired. I suppose it is the air." + +"Yes," said Mr. March; "it must be. I, too, feel like another man. I +can draw such full, long breaths; I shouldn't know there was such a +thing as asthma in the world." + +As day after day went on, they all came to like their new home +better and better. The little room which had been a lumber room was +made into a sitting-room, and trimmed all round with the +kinnikinnick vines; the big table with leaves stood in the centre, +and the book-shelves hung on the walls. Zeb and Deacon Plummer built +pine shelves across one end of the room, way to the top; these were +filled with Mr. March's books. There were two small school-desks by +the east window; and at these Rob and Nelly sat for two hours every +morning, and studied and recited their lessons to Mr. March. In the +afternoon, they played out of doors; they climbed the hills and the +rocks; and, at four o'clock, they went after the cows. This was +something they were never tired of, because they never knew just +where they should find the cows: they rambled into so many little +nooks and corners among the hills; but three of the cows had bells +on their necks, and the rest never went far from them. Watch always +went with Rob and Nelly, and he seemed to have a wonderful instinct +to tell where to look for a cow. Whenever it stormed too much for +the children to be out, Zeb went. Sometimes Watch went all alone. He +could bring the cows home as well as anybody. But Nelly and Rob +never liked to miss it. It was the great pleasure of their day; and +the out-door air and the exercise were making them brown and strong. +They looked like little Italian peasant children: wherever they went +they sang; up hill and down, and on the tops of the highest rocks, +their merry voices rang out. Felix--that Frenchman I told you about +that they saw in the cars, the one who was servant to the English +gentleman--had taught Rob how to make the cry which the Swiss +hunters make in the Alps. It is called the "Jodel"--and it sounds +very fine among high hill-tops. It is something like this:-- + + +[Illustration: _He would ring out such a "jodel", that the people +would stop and look up amazed. Page 132._] + + +"Yo-ho! yo-ho! yo-ho!" The syllables are pronounced one after the +other just as fast as you can, in a high shrill tone, and there is a +sort of tune to it which I could not describe; but perhaps you know +some traveller who has been in Switzerland, who can describe it to +you. Rob used to "jodel" beautifully; and many a time when he was on +a high rock, way up above the road, and saw people riding or driving +below him, he would ring out such a "jodel," that the people would +stop and look up amazed. They could not believe they were in +America. Rob was fast growing as strong and well as Nelly. He +never had sore throats here: and Mr. and Mrs. March often said that +they would be glad they had come to Colorado, if it were for nothing +except that it had made Rob so well. As he grew stronger, he grew to +be a much better boy. He was not selfish nor cross as he used to be +at home; and he was as full of fun as a squirrel, all day long. One +thing he very much enjoyed doing, was taking Fox and Pumpkinseed up +to the tops of the high hills to graze. The best grass grew very +high up on the hills; but neither Fox nor Pumpkinseed had ever been +used to such steep hills, and they both hated to climb them. Deacon +Plummer was very droll about it. "Don't blame 'em," said he, "don't +blame 'em a mite. Who'd want to be for ever climbing up garret to +get a mouthful of something to eat?" However, since the food was +chiefly "up garret," as the Deacon called it, "up garret" the horses +must go; and it was somebody's duty every morning to lead them up. +Often, in the course of the day, they would ramble slowly down: then +they would have to be taken up again; and Rob was always on the +lookout for a chance to do this. He always took Fox; he was easier +to lead than Pumpkinseed. You had to lead only one: the other would +follow; and it was a funny sight to see Rob way up on the steep +hill, tugging away at Fox's halter, and Fox half holding back, half +going along, and Pumpkinseed behind, following on slowly with a most +disgusted expression, every now and then stopping short and looking +up at Rob and Fox, as much as to say, "Oh, dear! why will you drag +us up this horrible hill?" + +The hill opposite the house was so high that when Rob was at the +very top of it with the horses, he didn't look bigger than a +"Hop-o'-my-thumb," and the horses looked like goats. After he got +them fairly up, and saw them grazing contentedly, Rob would run down +the hill at full speed. At first he got many a tumble flat on his +nose doing this; but after a while he learned how to slant his body +backwards, and then he did not tumble. + +But while Rob and Nelly were growing well and strong, and having +such a good time that they never wanted to go back to Mayfield, I am +sorry to say that the grown people were not so contented. In the +first place, good old Mrs. Plummer could not sleep. Her cough was +all gone; and if she could only have slept, she would have been as +well as anybody; but her heart beat too fast all the time, and kept +her awake at night. She did not know that she had any trouble with +her heart when she was at home; and nobody had told them that people +with heart-trouble could not live in Colorado: but that is the case; +the air which is so pure and dry is also so light that it makes your +pulse beat a good many times more a minute, and it takes a good +strong heart to bear this. You know your heart is nothing but a pump +that pumps blood to go through your veins, just as water goes +through pipes all over a house; and the pump has to be very strong +to pump so many strokes a minute as it does in Colorado. So poor +Mrs. Plummer, instead of growing better, was growing worse; and this +made them all unhappy. + +Then Deacon Plummer and Mr. March had to acknowledge that they were +paying out more money than they took in, and this worried them both. + +"We've got to get out on't somehow, that's clear and sartin," said +the Deacon. "It won't take very long at this rate to clear us both +out. I hate to give up. I'm sure there must be better places in the +country somewhere for stock raisin' than this is; but we won't stir +till warm weather sets in. Then we'll look round." + +The last week in April and the first in May were hard weeks. +Snow-storm after snow-storm fell. At one time, all travel through +the Pass was cut off for two days. The snow lay in great drifts in +the narrowest places. In such weather as this, all the cattle had to +be kept in the barns and yards, and fed; hay was very dear; and as +Deacon Plummer said, "It don't take a critter very long to eat his +own head off, and after it's eaten it off six times over, its head's +on all the same for you to keep a feedin'." + +When June came in, matters brightened. The cows had plenty of grass, +gave good milk, and Mrs. March and Mrs. Plummer made a good many +pounds of butter each week, which they sold at Manitou without +difficulty. Here at last was a regular source of income; but it was +small: "a mere drop in the bucket," Mrs. March said when she was +talking over matters with Mrs. Plummer. I must tell you how this +butter was made, because it was such a pleasure to Rob and Nelly to +watch it. It was made in a little shed which joined on to the old +saw-mill, and the old saw-mill wheel did the churning. Wasn't that a +funny way? We must give Zeb the credit of this. He was turning the +grindstone one day for Deacon Plummer to sharpen up his axes. It is +very hard work to turn a grindstone, and Zeb was very tired before +the axes were half ground. Suddenly the thought popped into his +head, "Why shouldn't I make that old water-wheel turn this +grindstone for us?" After dinner he went up to the saw-mill and +looked at it. There was the old wooden wheel as good as ever; the +gate which had shut the water off and let it on was gone; "but +that's easy fixed," said Zeb, and to work he went; and before +sundown, he had the water-wheel bobbing round again as fast as need +be. The next day he took the grindstone and sunk it in between two +old timbers in a broken place in the floor, just back of the wheel; +then he put a strap round the grindstone and fastened it to the +water-wheel; then he pulled up the little gate, and let the water in +the water-wheel. Hurrah! round went the water-wheel, and round went +the grindstone keeping exact pace with it! Zeb clapped his knee, +which was the same thing as if he had patted himself on the +shoulder. "Good for you, Abe Mack!" he said. Then he looked around +frightened, to see if anybody had heard him. No one was near. He +drew a long breath. "Lord!" he said; "to think o' my saying that +name out loud after all this time!" and he wiped his forehead with +the back of his hand. "I'd better be more keerful than that," he +said. "I'll get tracked yet, if I don't look out." Two years before, +in a fight in a mining town a great many miles north of his present +home, Zeb had had the misfortune to kill a man. He never intended to +do such a thing. He really drew his pistol in self-defence; but he +could not prove this, and he had fled for his life, and had been +ever since living hidden away on this lonely farm in the mountains. +He had intended to go still farther away where there would be no +possibility of his ever being seen by any of the men who had known +him before, but he had fallen so in love with these hills he could +not tear himself away from them. But he had never told his true name +to any one, and when he pronounced it now the sound of it frightened +him almost as if it had been a sheriff who was calling him by it. + +After dinner, Zeb invited the whole family out to see his new +water-works. They all looked on with interest and pleasure. Mr. +March had often looked at the old mill and wished he had money +enough to put it in order. + +"Well done, Zeb!" he said. "You've turned the old thing to some +account, haven't you? That's a capital idea; we'll grind knives and +axes now for anybody who comes along." + +"Zeb," said Mrs. March, "can't you make it churn the butter for +you?" + +Zeb was struck by the idea. + +"Lor, ma'am," he said; "I never heard o' such a thing! but I don't +know why not. I'll try it, sure's my name's--" he stopped short, and +gasped out "Zebulon Craig." + +No one observed his agitation. They were all too busy watching the +grindstone and water-wheel. The next day and the next, Zeb was seen +steadily at work in the saw-mill. He would not let the children stay +with him. + +"Run away! run away!" he said. "I've got a job o' thinkin' to do: +can't think with you youngsters a lookin' on." + +Rob and Nelly were almost beside themselves with curiosity. + +"Zeb's making a churn to go by water like the grindstone: I know he +is," said Rob. "It's real mean for him not to let us see." + +"But, Rob," said the wise Nelly, "he says he can't think if we're +round. He'll show it to us's soon's it's done." + +"I don't care," said Rob; "I want to see how he does it;" and Rob +hovered round the mill perpetually, much to Zeb's vexation. + +Late in the second afternoon, Zeb called out:-- + +"Rob, go fetch me the churn, will you?" + +Rob was only too happy to be admitted into the partnership on any +terms. The churn was quite heavy, but he rolled it and tugged it to +the shed-door. Zeb lifted it over the threshold: and then Rob saw +that there was a long slender beam fastened to the water-wheel, and +reaching half way across the wall of the shed; an upright beam was +fastened to this, a hole was cut in the shed wall, and another beam +run through this hole, and fastened to the upright beam on the other +side. When the water-wheel turned round and round, it made this +upright beam go up and down. Zeb took the dasher of the churn and +fastened it to this beam: up and down, up and down it went, faster +than anybody could churn. + +"Tain't quite long enough," said Zeb. "We'll have to stand the churn +on something." Then he ran back to the house and asked Mrs. Plummer +for some cream. She gave him about three gallons; he put it into the +churn, raised the churn a little higher, and set the machinery in +motion. In about ten minutes he looked in. + +"It's comin'! it's comin'!" he cried. "Run, call all the folks, +Rob." + +Rob ran, and in a few minutes the whole family were looking on at +this new mode of churning. It worked beautifully; in fifteen minutes +more the butter was made. + +"There!" said Zeb, as he drew up the dasher with great solid lumps +of butter sticking to it. "If that ain't the easiest churned three +gallons o' cream ever I see!" + +"Yes, indeed, Zeb," said Mrs. March, "it is. We sha'n't dread +churning-day any more." + +Mr. March examined the machinery curiously. "Zeb," he said, "if we +had two good iron wheels we could make shingles here, couldn't we? I +believe it would pay to rig the old place up again." + +"Yes, sir," said Zeb. "There's nothin' ye can't make with such a +stream o' water's that if ye've got the machinery to put it to. It's +only the machinery that's wantin'. We've got water power enough here +to run a factory." + +You would not have thought so to look at it; the water did not come +right out of the brook; it came through a wooden pipe, high up on +wooden posts. It was taken out of the brook a mile or two farther up +the Pass, where the ground was a great deal higher than it was here +at the mill. So it came running all the way down through this pipe, +high up above the brook, and when it was let out it fell with great +force. The pipe was quite old now, and it leaked in many places; in +one place there was such a big leak it made a little waterfall; this +water dripping and falling into the brook beneath made it sound like +a shower, and all the bushes and green things along the edges of the +brook were dripping wet all the time. There was a big pile of the +old sawdust on the edge of the brook; this was of a bright yellow +color: the old saw-mill had fallen so into decay that three sides of +it were open, and it looked hardly safe to go into it. You had to +step carefully from one beam to another: there was not much of the +floor left. But it was a lovely, cool, shady place, and almost every +day some of the teamsters who were driving heavy teams through the +Pass would stop here to take their lunch at noon: often Rob and +Nelly would go out and talk with them, and carry them milk to drink. +Zeb kept out of sight at such times. He was always in fear of being +seen by somebody who had known him in the northern country. + +As the summer came on, all sorts of beautiful flowers appeared along +the edges of the brook, in the open clearings, and even in the +crevices of the rocks. Nelly gathered great bunches of them every +morning. She loved flowers almost as well as she loved mountains. +She used to go out late in the afternoon and gather a huge basketful +of all the kinds she could find,--red and white, and yellow and +blue,--then she would set the basket in the brook and let the water +run through it all night, keeping the stems of the flowers very wet. +In the morning they would look as fresh as if she had just picked +them. Remember this, all of you little children who love flowers and +like to pick them. If you pick them in the morning, they will wither +and never revive perfectly, no matter how much water you put them +in. Pick them at sundown, and leave them in a great tub full of +water out of doors all night, and in the morning you can arrange +them in bouquets, and they will keep twice as long as they would if +you had not left them out of doors all night. Nelly used to sit on +the ground in the open space west of the saw-mill and arrange her +bouquets; sometimes she would tie up as many as eight or ten in one +morning, and sometimes travellers driving past would call to her and +ask her to sell them: but Nelly would not sell them; she always gave +them away to anybody who loved flowers. Rob thought she was very +foolish. "Nell, why didn't you take the money?" he would say. "It's +just the same to sell flowers as milk: isn't it?" + +"No," said Nelly, "I don't think it is. The flowers are not ours." + +"Whose are they?" exclaimed Rob. + +"God's," said Nelly, soberly. Rob could not appreciate Nelly's +feeling. + +"Well, what makes you steal 'em, then?" he asked, in a satirical +tone. + +"God likes to have us pick them: I know he does," said Nelly, +earnestly. "He gives them all to us for every summer as long as we +live." + +"Oh, pshaw, Nell!" said Rob. "He don't do any such thing. They just +grow: that's all." + +"Well, papa says that God makes them grow on purpose for us to see +how pretty they are. They aren't of any other use: they aren't the +same as potatoes. And don't you know the little verse,-- + + "'God might have made the earth bring forth + Enough for great and small; + The oak tree and the cedar tree, + Without a flower at all.' + +"I'm always thinking of that. 'Twould be horrid here if we didn't +have any thing but things to eat." + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +A HUNT FOR A SILVER MINE + + +One morning, early in June, Nelly was sitting out by the old mill, +with her lap full of blue anemones and white daisies: the anemones +were hardly out of their gray cloaks. The anemones in Colorado come +up out of the ground like crocuses; the buds are rolled up tight in +the loveliest little furry coverings almost like chinchilla fur. I +think this is to keep them warm, because they come very early in the +spring, and often there are cold storms after they arrive, and the +poor little anemones are all covered up in snow. + +Nelly heard steps and voices and the trampling of hoofs. She sprang +up, and saw that a large blue wagon, drawn by eight mules, had just +turned in from the road, towards the brook, and the driver was +making ready to camp. He came towards Nelly, and said, very +pleasantly:-- + +"Little girl, do your folks live in yonder?" pointing to the house. + +"Yes, sir," said Nelly. + +"Do they ever keep folks?" + +"What, sir?" said Nelly. + +"Do they ever keep folks,--keep 'em to board?" + +"Oh, no! never," replied Nelly. + +The man looked disappointed. "Well," he said, "I've got to lie by +here a day or two, anyhow. I was in hopes I could get took in. I'm +clean beat out; but I can sleep in the wagon." + +"My mamma will be glad to do all she can for you if you're sick, +I'm sure," said Nelly; "but we haven't any spare room in our house." + +The driver looked at Nelly again. He had once been a coachman in a +gentleman's family at the East, and he knew by Nelly's voice and +polite manner that she was not the child of any of the common +farmers of the country. + +"Have you lived here long?" he said. + +"Oh, no!" replied Nelly: "only since last spring. We came because my +papa was sick. He has the asthma." + +"Oh!" said the man: "I thought so." + +Nelly wondered why the man should have thought her papa had the +asthma; but she did not ask him what he meant. In a few minutes, the +man lay down in his wagon and fell fast asleep, and Nelly went into +the house. After dinner, she told Rob about the man, and they went +out together to see him. They peeped into the wagon. It was loaded +full of small bits of gray rock: the man was rolled up in a buffalo +robe, lying on top of the stones, still fast asleep. His face was +very red, and he breathed loud. + +"Oh, dear!" said Nelly, "how uncomfortable he must be! He looks real +sick." + +"I bet he's drunk!" said Rob, who had unluckily seen a good deal of +that sort of sickness since he had lived on a thoroughfare for +mule-wagons. + +"Is he?" said Nelly, horror-stricken. "No, Rob, he can't be, because +he talked with me real nice this morning. Let's go and tell mamma." + +Mr. March went out, looked at the man, and woke him up. He found +that he was indeed ill, and not drunk. The poor fellow had been five +days on the road, with a very heavy cold; and had taken more cold +every night, sleeping in the open air. Walking all day long in the +hot sun had also made him worse, and he was suffering severely. + +"Come right into the house with me, my man," said Mr. March; "my +wife'll make you a cup of hot tea." + +"Oh, thank you!" said the man. "I've been thinkin' I'd give all the +ore in this 'ere wagon for a first-rate cup of tea. I don't never +carry tea: only coffee; but I've turned against coffee these last +two days;" and he followed Mr. March into the house. + +"What'd you say you had in your wagon?" asked Rob, who had been +standing by. + +"Ore," said the man. + +The only word Rob knew which had that sound was "oar." + +"Oar!" he said. "Why, I didn't see any thing but rocks." + +Mr. March and the man both laughed. + +"Not 'oar,' to row with, Rob," said Mr. March; "but 'ore,' to make +money out of." + +"Silver ore, I suppose," he added, turning to the man. + +"Yes," he said; "from the Moose mine, up on Mount Lincoln." + +Rob's eyes grew big. "Oh! tell me about it," he said. And Nelly, +coming up closer, exclaimed, in a tone unusually eager for her, "And +me too. Is the mountain made of silver, like the mountains in fairy +stories?" + +The man was drinking his tea, and did not answer. He drank it in +great mouthfuls, though it was scalding hot. + +"Oh, ma'am," he said, "I haven't tasted any thing that went right to +the spot's that does, for months; if it wouldn't trouble ye too +much, I'd like one more cup." He drank the second cup as quickly as +he had the first; then he leaned his head back in the chair, and +said: "I feel like a new man now. I guess that was the medicine I +needed. I reckon I can go on this afternoon." + +"No," said Mr. March: "you ought to stay here till to-morrow. There +is an old leather-covered settee in the barn you're welcome to sleep +on. It will be better than the ground; and we'll doctor you with hot +tea, night and morning." + +"You're very kind," said the man: "I don't know but I'd better +stay." + +"Oh, do! do!" said Rob; and "do do!" said Nelly. "Stay and tell us +all about the mountain of silver and the Moose; does the Moose draw +out the silver?" + +You see Rob and Nelly couldn't get it out of their heads that it was +all like a fairy tale. And so it is when you think of it, more +wonderful than almost any fairy tale, to think how great mountains +are full of silver and of gold, and men can burrow deep down into +them, and get out all the silver and gold they need. + +"Oh, there isn't any real Moose," said the man. "That's only the +name of the mine. I don't know why they called the mine the Moose +mine. They give mines the queerest kind o' names." + +"What is a mine, anyhow?" asked Rob. + +"Oh," said the man, "I forgot you didn't know that. A mine's a hole +in the ground, or in the side of a mountain, where they dig out gold +or silver. There's mines that's miles and miles big, underground, +with passages running every way like streets." + +"How do they see down there?" said Rob. + +"They carry lanterns, and there are lanterns fastened up in the +walls." + +"Is your wagon all full of silver?" asked Nelly, in a low tone. + +"Not exactly all silver yet," the man said, laughing; "there's a +good deal of silver in it: it's very good ore." + +"It looked just like gray rock," said Rob. + +"Well, that's what it is," replied the man; "it's gray rock. It's +got to be all pounded up fine in a mill, and then it's got to be +roasted with salt in a great oven, and then it's got to be mixed +with chemicals and things. I don't rightly know just what it is they +do to it; it's a heap of work I know, before it ever gets to be the +pure silver." + +"Some day I will take you, Rob," said his father, "where you can see +all this done: I want to see it myself. Run out, now, you and Nelly, +and play, and let the driver rest. He is too tired to talk any +more." + +Rob and Nelly went back to the wagon. All Nelly's anemones and +daisies were lying on the ground, withered. Even this one short hour +of hot sun had been enough to kill them. + +"Oh, my poor, dear flowers!" said Nelly, picking them up. "How could +I forget you!" and she looked at them as sorrowfully as if they were +little babies she had neglected. + +"Pooh, Nell," cried Rob. "They're no good now. Throw them in the +brook, and come look at the silver." + +They both climbed up on the tongue of the wagon and looked in at the +front. + +"I can't see any silver about it," said Nelly; "it don't look like +any thing but little gray stones, all broken up into bits." + +"No," said Rob: "it don't shine much;" and he picked up a bit and +held it out in the sun. + +"Oh, take care! take care, Rob!" cried Nelly. "Don't lose it; it +might be as much as a quarter of a dollar, that bit." + +"Nell," said Rob, earnestly, "don't you wish papa had a mine, and we +could dig up all the money we wanted? oh, my!" and Rob drew in his +breath in a long whistle. + +"Yes," said Nelly: "I mean to look for one. Do you find the holes +already dug, do you suppose? Perhaps that place where old Molly +tumbled in was a mine." + +Old Molly was one of their cows, who had tumbled one day into a hole +made by a slide of earth; and Zeb had had to go down and tie ropes +around her to pull her up. + +"Yes," said Rob: "I bet you any thing it is. Let's go right up there +now, and see if we can find some rock like this. I'll carry this +piece in my pocket to tell by. I'll only borrow it: I'll put it +back." + +"Let me carry it then," said Nelly. "I'm so afraid you'll lose it." + +So Nelly tied the little bit of gray rock in a corner of her +pocket-handkerchief, and then crammed her handkerchief down tight in +her pocket, and they set off at a swift pace, towards the ravine +where Molly had had her unlucky fall. + +When dinner-time came, the children were nowhere to be found. Zeb +went up and down the brook for a mile, looking and calling aloud. +Watch and Trotter had both disappeared also. + +"Ye needn't worry so long's the dogs is along, ma'am," said Zeb, +when he returned from his bootless search. "If they get into any +trouble, Watch'll come home and let us know. He's got more sense'n +most men, that dog has." + +But Mrs. March could not help worrying. Never since they had lived +in the Pass had Nelly and Rob gone away for any long walk without +coming and bidding her good-by, and telling her where they were +going. The truth was, that this time they had entirely forgotten it: +they were so excited by the hopes of finding a mine. They had walked +nearly a mile when Nelly suddenly exclaimed: "Oh, Rob! we didn't say +good-by to mamma! She won't know where we are." + +"So we didn't!" said Rob. "What a shame! But we can't go back now, +Nell: it's too late; we've come miles and miles; we'd better keep +on; she'll know we're all right; we always are. We're most there +now." + +It was the middle of the afternoon before Rob and Nelly got home. +Mrs. March had been walking up and down the road anxiously for an +hour, when she saw the two little figures coming down the very +steepest of the hills. They walked very slowly; so slowly that she +felt sure one of them must be hurt. The dogs were bounding along +before them. As soon as the children saw their mother, Rob took off +his hat, and Nelly her sun-bonnet, and waved them in the air. This +relieved Mrs. March's fears, and the tears came into her eyes, she +was so glad. "Oh, Robert, there they are!" she exclaimed to Mr. +March, who had just joined her. "See! there they are, way up on that +steep hill. Thank God, they are safe!" + +Mr. and Mrs. March both stood in the road, shading their eyes with +their hands, and looking up at the children. + +As they drew nearer, Mrs. March exclaimed: "Why, what are they +carrying?" Mr. March burst out laughing, and said: "They look like +little pack mules." In a few minutes, the hot, tired, dusty little +wanderers reached the road, and ran breathlessly up to their father +and mother: + +"Oh, mamma!" cried Rob; and "Oh, papa!" cried Nelly. "We've found a +mine; we've got lots of ore; now we can get all the money we want. +You see if this isn't almost exactly like the stuff in the man's +wagon!" and Nelly emptied her apron on the ground, and Rob emptied +his jacket; he had taken it off and carried it by the sleeves so as +to make a big sack of it. Mr. and Mrs. March could hardly keep from +laughing at the sight: there were the two piles of little bits of +stone, and the children with red and dirty faces and the +perspiration rolling down their cheeks, getting down on their knees +to pick out the choicest specimens. Nelly was fumbling deep down in +her pocket; presently she drew out her handkerchief all knotted in a +wisp, and out of the last knot she took the little bit of ore which +they had borrowed from the wagon for a sample. This she laid in her +father's hand: "There, papa," she said, "that's the man's: we +borrowed it to carry along to tell by." + +"They don't look so much like it as they did," she added, turning +sorrowfully back to the poor little pile of stones. Rob was gazing +at them too, with a crest-fallen face. + +"Why, they don't shine a bit now," he said; "up there they shone +like every thing." + +Mr. March picked up a bit of the stone and looked closely at it. + +"Ah, Rob," he said, "the reason it doesn't shine now, is because the +sun has gone under a cloud. There are little points of mica in these +stones, and mica shines in the sun; but there isn't any silver here, +dear. Did you really think you had made all our fortunes?" + +Rob did not speak. He had hard work to keep from crying. He stood +still, slowly kicking the pile of stones with one foot. His father +pitied him very much. + +"Never mind, Rob," he said; "you're not the first fellow that has +thought he had found a mine, and been mistaken." + +Rob stooped down and picked up two big handfuls of the stones and +threw them as far as he could throw them. + +"Old cheats!" he said. + +"Yes, real old cheats!" said Nelly; and she began to scatter the +stones with her foot. "And they were awful heavy. Oh, mamma, I'm so +hungry!" + +"So'm I," said Rob. "Isn't it dinner-time?" + +"Dinner-time!" exclaimed their mother. "Did you really not have any +more idea of the time than that! Why, it is three o'clock! Where +have you been?" + +"Not very far, mamma," answered Nelly; "only up where old Molly +tumbled in. Rob thought perhaps that hole was a mine. It's all full +of these shining stones. Isn't it too bad, mamma?" + +"Isn't what too bad, Nell?" said Mrs. March. + +"Why, too bad that they ain't silver," replied Nelly. "We thought we +could all have every thing we wanted." + +Mrs. March laughed. + +"What do you want most of all this minute?" she said. + +"Something to eat, mamma," said Nelly. + +"Well, that you can have; and that I hope we can always have without +any silver mine: and to-day we have something very good to eat." + +"Oh! what, mamma, what? say, quick!" said Rob. + +"Chicken pie," said Mrs. March, in a very comical, earnest tone. + +"Chicken pie!" shouted Rob. "Hurrah! hurrah!" and both he and Nelly +ran toward the house as hard as they could go. + +"There is a wish-bone drying for you on the mantelpiece," called out +Mr. March. + +"They'll both wish for a silver mine, I expect," laughed Mrs. March, +as she and her husband walked slowly along. "What a queer notion +that was to come into such children's heads!" + +"I don't know," said Mr. March, reflectively; "I think it's a very +natural notion to come into anybody's head. I'd like a silver mine +myself, very much." + +"We mightn't be any happier if we had one, nor half so happy," +replied Mrs. March. "I'd rather have you well, and the children +well, than have all the silver mines in Colorado." + +"If you had to choose between the two things, I dare say," answered +Mr. March; "but I suppose a person might have good health and a +silver mine besides. How would that do?" + +"Well, I'll make sure of the health first," said Mrs. March, +laughing. "I'm not in so much hurry for the silver mine." + +After Rob and Nelly had eaten up all the chicken pie which had been +saved for them, they took down the wish-bone from the mantelpiece, +and prepared to "wish." + +"It's so dry, it'll break splendidly," said Rob. "I know what I'm +going to wish for." + +"So do I," said Nelly, resolutely; "I'm going to wish hard." + +They both pulled with all their might. Crack went the wish-bone,--no +difference in the length of the two pieces. + +"Pshaw!" cried Rob; "how mean! one or the other of us might have had +it." + +Nelly drew a long sigh. "Rob," said she, "What did you wish for?" + +"A silver mine," said he, "both times." + +"So did I," said Nell. "I thought you did, too. I guess we sha'n't +either of us ever have one." + +"I don't care," said Rob; "there's plenty of money besides in mines. +I'm going to have a bank when I'm a man." + +"Are you, Rob?" said Nell. "What's that?" + +"Oh, just a house where you can go and get money," replied Rob, +confidently. "I used to go with papa often at home. They gave him +all he wanted." + +Nelly looked somewhat perplexed. She did not know any thing about +banks: still she thought there was a loose screw somewhere in Rob's +calculations; but she did not ask him any more questions. + +After tea, Mr. March walked away with the driver of the mule team. +They did not come back until it was dark. Mr. March opened the door +of the sitting-room, and said, "Sarah, I wish you'd come out here a +few minutes." When she had stepped out and closed the door, he said, +"I want you to come up where the wagon is: there's a nice bonfire up +there, and it isn't cold; I want this man to tell you all he's been +telling me about a place down south,--a hundred miles below this. If +it's all's he says, that's the place we ought to go to. But I wanted +you to hear all about it before I said any thing to the Deacon." + +The driver's name, by the way, was Billy; he was called "Long Billy" +on the roads where he drove, because his legs were so long, and his +body so short. He had made a splendid bonfire on the edge of the +brook, and Mr. March and he had been sitting there for an hour, on a +buffalo robe spread on the ground. Mrs. March sat down with them, +and Long Billy began his story over again. It seemed that he had +formerly been a driver of a mule team on another route, much farther +south than this one. He had "hauled ore," as he called it, from a +little town called Rosita, to another town called Canyon City. There +the ore was packed on cars and sent over the little narrow-gauge +railroad up to Central City, where the silver was extracted from the +rock, and moulded into little solid bricks of silver ready to be +sent to the mint at Philadelphia to be made into half dollars and +quarters. + +This town of Rosita lay among mountains: was built on the sides of +two or three narrow gulches, in the Wet Mountain range; at the foot +of these mountains was the beautiful Wet Mountain Valley,--a valley +thirty miles long, and only from five to eight miles wide; on the +side farthest from Rosita this valley was walled by another high +mountain range, the Sangre di Christo range. This means "The blood +of Christ." The Spaniards gave this name to the mountains when they +first came to the country. All the mountains in the Sangre di +Christo range are over eight thousand feet high, and many of them +are over twelve thousand; their points are sharp like the teeth of a +saw, and they are white with snow the greater part of the year. The +beautiful valley lying between these two long lines of mountains was +the place about which Long Billy had been telling Mr. March, and now +began to tell Mrs. March. + +"Why, ma'am," he said, "I tell ye, after coming over these plains, +it is jest like lookin' into Heaven, to get a look down into that +valley; it's as green as any medder land ye ever laid your eyes on; +I've seen the grass there higher'n my knee, in July." + +"Oh!" said Mrs. March, with a sigh of satisfaction at the very +thought of it, "I would like to see tall grass once more." + +"Yes, indeed wife," said Mr. March; "but think what a place that +would be for cattle, and for hay. Farming would be something worth +talking about; and Billy says that the farmers in the valley can +have a good market in Rosita for all they can raise. There are +nearly a thousand miners there; and it is also only a day's journey +from Pueblo, which is quite a city. It really looks to me like the +most promising place I've heard any thing about here." + +"It's the nicest bit of country there is anywhere in Colorado," said +Billy, "'s fur's I've seen it. Them mountains's jest a picture to +look at all the time; 'n' there's a creek,--Grape Creek, they call +it, because it's just lined with wild grape-vines, for miles,--runs +through the valley; 'n' lots o' little creeks coming down out o' the +mountains, 'n' empties into't. I wouldn't ask nothin' more o' the +Lord than that He'd give me a little farm down in Wet Mountain +Valley for the rest o' my life. I know that." + +"Do you think there are any farms there that could be bought?" +asked Mr. March, anxiously. "I should think such desirable lands +would be all taken up." + +"Well, they're changin' round there a good deal," said Billy. "Ye +wouldn't think it; but men they git discontented a hearing so much +talk about silver. They're always a hoping to get hold on a mine 'n' +make a big fortin all in a minnit; but I hain't seen so many of +these big fortins made off minin' 'n this country. For one man +thet's made his fortin, I've known twenty that's lost it. Now I +think on't I did hear, last spring, that Wilson he wanted to sell +out; 'n' if you could get his farm, you'd jest be fixed first rate. +There's the best spring o' water on his place there is in all the +valley; and it ain't more'n four miles 'n' a half from his place up +into Rosita: ye'd walk it easy." + +Mr. March looked at his wife. Her face was full of excitement and +pleasure. + +"It sounds perfectly delightful, Robert," she said; "but you know we +thought just so about this Pass. The pictures were so beautiful, and +all they told us sounded attractive." + +Billy made a scornful sound almost like a snort. + +"H'm!" he said, "anybody that recommended ye to settle this low down +in the Ute Pass for stock-raisin' or farmin' must ha' been either a +knave or a fool: that's certain." + +"A knave, I think," said Mrs. March. "He tried very hard to sell us +the whole place." + +"I'll be bound he did," sneered Billy; "cheap enough he'll sell it, +too, afore ever he gets anybody to buy." + +"Say, mister," he continued, "you jest come along with me to-morrow: +I'd like to take a run down to Rosita, first rate; 'n' I've got to +lay by a few days anyhow. I'll get this load o' ore board the cars +at the Springs, 'n' then I'll jest quit work for a week; 'n' I'll go +down with yer to Rosita. There's somebody there I'm wantin' to see +putty bad." And Billy's burnt face grew a shade or two deeper red. + +"Ah, Billy, is that it?" said Mr. March. + +"Well, yes, sir. We're a calculatin' to be married one o' these days +soon's I get a little ahead. It's slow work, though, layin' up money +teamin', 'n' I won't take her out of a good home till I can give her +one o' her own's good. Her father he's foreman 'n one o' the mines +there; 'n' he's always been a real forehanded man. She's well off: +she's got no occasion to marry anybody to be took care of." And +Billy smiled complacently at the thought that it must have been for +pure love that the Rosita young lady had promised to marry him. + +"Sarah, what do you think of my going?" said Mr. March. + +"Go, by all means!" said Mrs. March. "The little journey will do you +good, even if nothing comes of it. We need not say any thing about +the reason for your going, till you get back. If you decide to move +down there, that will be time enough to explain." + +"And Mrs. Plummer will say that it was all 'providential,'" laughed +Mr. March. + +"And so shall I, Robert," said Mrs. March, very earnestly. + +The next morning Mr. March and Long Billy set off together at seven +o'clock. It was the first time Mrs. March had been separated from +her husband in this new country, and she dreaded it. + +"Good-by! good-by!" called the children, in their night-gowns, at +the bedroom window; "good-by, papa." + +"Good-by!" said the Deacon; "reckon your bones'll ache some, before +ye get to the Springs, a ridin' that wheeler." Mr. March was riding +the rear wheeler, and Long Billy was walking by his side. + +"Not if he don't walk any faster than this," said Mr. March. "And I +shall walk half of the time." + +"Ye needn't walk a step if ye'd rather ride," said Billy. "I'm all +right this mornin'. 'Tain't only about ten miles down to Colorado +Springs. I don't think nothin' o' walkin' that fur, especially when +I've got company to talk to. Mules is dreadful tiresome critters. +Now a hoss's real good company; but a mule ain't no company, 't +all." + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +THE MARCHES LEAVE GARLAND'S + + +It was on a Wednesday morning that Mr. March and Long Billy set out +for Rosita. The next week, on Thursday evening, just at sunset, Mrs. +March heard the sound of wheels, and, looking up, saw a white-topped +wagon, drawn by two mules, coming up the road. In the next instant, +she saw Rob and Nelly running, jumping, and clapping their hands, +and trying to climb up into the wagon. + +"Why, that must be Mr. March," she exclaimed, and ran out of the +door. + +"Why, that's queer," said the Deacon, following slowly; "he said +he'd write the day before he was a-comin'; and we were to go down +'n' meet him at the Springs." + +"And if he hasn't brought that long-geared fellow back with him, I +declare!" continued the Deacon, as he walked on: "I'd like to know +what's up now." + +Mrs. March had already reached the wagon, and was welcoming her +husband. Long Billy interrupted her greetings. + +"Well, mum," he said, "I s'pose you're surprised to see me back +again. But me 'n' him"--nodding to Mr. March--"'s struck up a kind +o' 'liance, an' I'm to your service now: me 'n' my mules." + +"I know what that means," thought Mrs. March: "we're going to move +down to that valley, post haste." But all she said was:-- + +"Very well, Billy; I'm glad to see you. Mr. March's friends are +always mine." + +"What are you going to do with that Long Legs, Parson?" said Deacon +Plummer, as soon as he found a chance to speak to Mr. March alone; +"seems to me we haven't got work for another hand: have we?" + +"Not on this farm: that's a clear case, Deacon," replied Mr. March; +"but it's too long a story to enter on now. After supper I'll tell +you my plans." + +The Deacon took out his red silk handkerchief, and rubbed his +forehead. + +"Oh, Lord!" said he to himself; "what's that blessed man been and +done now? He ain't noways fit to go off by himself. I'll bet he's +been took in worse 'n ever." + +After supper Mr. March told his story. He had bought a farm in the +Wet Mountain Valley, and he proposed that they should all move down +there immediately. The place had more than equalled all Long Billy's +descriptions of it; and Mr. March's enthusiasm was unbounded. Deacon +Plummer listened to all his statements with a perplexed and +incredulous face. + +"Did you see that medder grass's high's a man's knee?" he asked. + +"Waded in it, Deacon," replied Mr. March; "but that isn't all: I've +got a wisp of it in my pocket." + +Long Billy chuckled, as Mr. March drew the crumpled green wisp out +of his pocket, and handed it to the Deacon. + +"'Twas I put him up to bringin' that," said Billy. "Sez I, 'there +ain't nothin' so good for folks's seein' with their own eyes.' I +kind o' misgave that the old man wouldn't be for believin' it all." + +The Deacon unfolded the grass; back and forth, back and forth, he +bent it, and straightened it out across his knees. He looked at it +in silence for a minute; then he said:-- + +"Well, that beats me! Acres like this, you say?" + +"Miles, Deacon," said Mr. March. + +"Miles 'n' miles," said Billy; "'s fur's you can see it wavin' in +the wind; 't looks like wheat, only puttier. P'raps you'd better +show him the wheat now?" + +Mr. March pulled out of his other pocket a similar wisp of wheat, +and handed it to the Deacon. This he straightened out, as he had the +grass, across his knees, and looked at it in silence for a moment; +then he tasted the kernel; then he rolled up both wheat and grass +together, and handed them back to Mr. March, saying: + +"I've got nothin' more to say. Seein' 's believin'." + +Long Billy nodded his head triumphantly, and winked at Mr. March. + +"But," continued the Deacon, "for all that I don't feel it clear in +my mind about our goin'. 'Twouldn't make any difference to ye, +Parson, anyway, if Elizy 'n' I didn't go; would it?" + +Mr. March was much surprised. + +"Why, Deacon!" he said, "we should be very sorry to have you +separate from us. You surely can't stay on in this place!" + +"Oh, no!" replied the Deacon; "we hain't the least idea o' that. The +fact is, I expect we ought to go home: Elizy's so poorly. We've been +thinkin' on't for some time. But we was so kind o' settled here, and +all so home-like, we hated to stir. But if you're goin' to break up, +and go to a new place, I expect we'd better take that time to go +home." + +This was not wholly a surprise to Mr. and Mrs. March, for they had +themselves felt that old Mrs. Plummer would after all be better off +in her comfortable home in Mayfield. They saw that she was growing +slowly more feeble: the climate did not suit her. + +"I reckon we're kind o' old for this country," said the Deacon. "It +don't seem to me's I feel quite so fust-rate's I did at home. Trees +gets too old to transplant after a while." + +"That's so! that's so!" exclaimed Billy. "I've never yet seen the +fust time, old folks adoin' well here. The air's too bracin' for +'em. They can't get used to it,--no offence to you, sir,"--looking +at Deacon Plummer. + +"Oh, no offence,--no offence at all," replied the Deacon. "I don't +make any bones about ownin' that I'm old. Me 'n' my wife's both seen +our best days; 'n' I reckon we're best off at home. I think we'd +better go, Parson. We're mighty sorry to leave you; but when you +move south, we'll start the other way towards home. Ain't that so, +Elizy?" Mrs. Plummer had been rocking violently for the last few +minutes, with her face buried in her handkerchief. + +"Yes," she sobbed, "I expect so. It's just providential, the hull +on't." + +"Dear Mrs. Plummer, do not cry so!" exclaimed Mrs. March. "We have +had a very pleasant time. It is only a few months; and when you get +home, it will only seem as if you had taken a six months' journey. I +really think you will be better in Mayfield than here." + +"Oh, I've no doubt on't," said Mrs. Plummer, still crying in her +handkerchief; "but I thought we was a goin' to live with you all the +rest o' our lives. It's a awful disappointment to me. But it's all +providential. It's a comfort to know that." + +When Zeb heard the news that the family would break up in a few +days,--the Marches to move to Wet Mountain Valley, and the Plummers +to go back to Massachusetts,--he was very sorry. He turned on his +heel without saying a word, and went into the barn. + +"Just your luck, Abe Mack!" he said, under his breath; "you don't no +sooner get used to a place 'n' to folks, 'n' feel real contented, +than somethin' happens to tip ye out. Ye're born onlucky; I reckon +there's no use fightin'. They're so took up with this long-legged +spindle of a mule-driver I expect they won't want me; 'n' I don't +want to go down into no minin' country, nuther,--'taint safe. I'll +see if the old man won't take me back to the States. I've got enough +to pay my way, if he'll give me work after I get there, and I reckon +I'd be safe from any o' them Georgetown fellers in Massachusetts." + +The Deacon was very glad to take Zeb back with him. He had learned +to like the man, and he needed such a hand on his farm. + +And so it was all settled, and everybody went to work as hard as +possible to get ready for the move. Nelly and Rob hardly knew +whether to be glad or sorry. They loved the hills so much, they were +afraid they would not love the valley so well. Yet their heads were +nearly turned by Long Billy's stories of the wonderful mines in +Rosita; of the machinery in the stamp-mill where they crushed the +ore and got the silver out; of the delicious wild grapes on Grape +Creek; and the trout, and the flowers on the hills. + +"Yer hain't ever seen any flowers yet," said Billy, when Nelly tried +to tell him how many flowers grew in the Pass; "ye jest wait till I +take ye up on Pine's ranch, some Sunday. I'll show ye flowers then: +sixty odd kinds in one field,--yes, sure! I counted 'em; and old +Pine he counted em too. And he sent 'em off by express once, some of +each kind, to the folks at Washington. You'll see!" + +Just three weeks from the day Long Billy first drove into the shadow +of the old saw-mill to camp, the March and Plummer family set out +on their journeys: Fox and Pumpkinseed drawing one big white-topped +wagon, in which were Mrs. March, Deacon and Mrs. Plummer, Nelly and +Rob. Billy's two mules drew the other big wagon, which was loaded +down very heavily with the furniture Mr. March had bought. Mr. March +drove this; and Billy, mounted on a new horse which he had bought, +was driving all the cattle before him. Zeb sat by Mr. March's side +in the mule wagon. He and Deacon and Mrs. Plummer were to take the +cars at Colorado Springs, and go to Denver. Mr. and Mrs. March had +begged them to come down with them into Wet Mountain Valley, and +make a visit. But the Deacon said "No." + +"The fact is," he said, "I may's well own it: now that we're really +started for home, we're dreadful homesick. I didn't know's I had +felt it so much. Can't transplant old trees, Parson, no use! It's a +good country for young folks,--a good country; I shall tell the boys +about it. But give me old Massachusetts. I just hanker after a sight +o' the old buryin'-ground, 'n' that black elder-bush in the corner +on't." + +When they parted at the little railroad station in Colorado Springs, +Mrs. Plummer broke down and cried. Nelly cried a little too, from +sympathy; and even Watch whined, seeing that something unusual and +uncomfortable was going on. Luckily, however, good-bys at railway +stations always are cut short. The engine-bell rings, and the cars +move off, and that puts an end to the last words. Mr. and Mrs. March +were sorry to part from these good old people; and yet, if the whole +truth were told, it must be owned that they felt a sense of relief +when they were gone. They had felt, all the while, a responsibility +for their comfort, and a fear lest they should be taken ill, which +had been burdensome. + +"We shall miss them: shan't we?" said Mrs. March, as the train moved +off. + +"Yes," said Nelly; "I'm real sorry they're gone. I like Zeb too." + +"We'll miss the crullers," said Rob. "Say, mamma, didn't she show +you how to make 'em?" + +"Rob," said his father, "you ought to be a Chinese." + +"Why?" asked Rob. + +"Because they think the seat of all life is in the stomach; and they +give great honor to people with very big stomachs," answered his +father. + +Rob did not know whether his father were laughing at him or not. He +suspected he might be. + +"I don't know what you mean, papa," he said: "you like crullers, +anyhow." + +"Fair hit, Rob!" said Mrs. March. "Fair hit, papa!" + +The journey to Rosita took six days: they had to go very slowly on +account of the cattle. The weather was perfect; and every night they +slept on the ground, in a tent which Mr. March had bought in +Colorado Springs. Rob rode on Pumpkinseed's back a good part of the +way, like a little postilion. Before the end of the journey, they +were all so burnt by the sun that they looked, Mrs. March said, "a +great deal more like Indians than like white people." They drove +into Rosita just at sunset. I wish I could tell you how beautiful +the whole place looked to them. You go down a steep hill, just as +you come into the town of Rosita. On the top of this hill, Mr. March +called out to his wife to stop. She was driving Fox and Pumpkinseed; +and he was following behind with the mules. He jumped out, and came +up to the side of her wagon. + +"There, Sarah!" he said, "did you ever see any thing in your life so +beautiful as this?" + +Mrs. March did not speak; both she and Nelly and even Rob were +struck dumb by the beauty of the picture. They looked right down +into the little village. It was cuddled in the ravine as if it had +gone to sleep there. The sides of the hills were dotted with +pine-trees; and most of the little houses were built of bright +yellow pine boards: they shone in the sun. Just beyond the village +they could see a bit of a most beautiful green valley; and, beyond +that, great high mountains, half covered with snow. + +"That is the valley," said Mr. March; "that bit of bright green, way +down there to the west." + +Nelly was the first to speak. + +"Papa," said she, "it looks just like a beautiful green bottom to a +deep well: doesn't it?" + +"Yes, this little bit that you see of it from here, does," said Mr. +March: "but, after you get into it, it doesn't look so. It is thirty +miles long; and so level you would think you were on the plains. And +oh, Nell! you can see your dear Pike's Peak grandly there! It looks +twice as high here as it does from any place I have seen it." + +"Oh, I'm so glad!" said Nelly. + +Still Mrs. March did not speak. Her husband turned to her at last, +anxiously, and said:-- + +"Don't you like it, Sarah?" + +"Oh, Robert!" she said, "it is so beautiful it doesn't look to me +like a real place. It looks like a painted picture!" + +"That'll do! that'll do!" laughed Mr. March; "I'm satisfied. Now +we'll go down the hill." + +Rob nudged Nelly. They were on the back seat of the wagon. + +"Nell," he whispered, "did you ever see any thing like it? I see +lots of silver mines all round on the hills. Billy told me how they +looked. Those piles of stones are all on top of mines; that's where +they throw out the stones. I'll bet we'll find a mine." + +"Oh," said Nelly, "wouldn't that be splendid! Let's go out the first +thing to-morrow morning." + +Mr. March had planned to stay in Rosita a couple of days, before +going down to his farm in the valley. He wished to become acquainted +with some of the Rosita tradesmen, and to find out all about the +best ways of doing things in this new life. Long Billy proved a good +helper now. Everybody in Rosita knew Long Billy and liked him; and, +when he said to his friends, confidentially: + +"This is a first-rate feller I've hired with: he does the square +thing by everybody, I tell you. There's nothin' narrer about him; +he's the least like a parson of any parson ye ever see,"--they +accepted Billy's word for it all, and met Mr. March with a +friendliness which would not usually have been shown to a newcomer. + +The next morning after they reached Rosita, Long Billy proposed to +take Mr. March out and introduce him to some of the people he knew. +When Mr. March came downstairs, he was dressed in a good suit of +black, and wore a white collar; on the journey, he had worn his +rough working-clothes, and a flannel shirt. Long Billy looked him up +and down, from head to foot, with an expression of great +dissatisfaction; but did not say anything. Then he walked out on the +piazza of the hotel, and stood still for some minutes, in deep +thought. Then he said to himself:-- + +"Hang it all! I'll have to speak to him. What'd he want to go 'n' +spruce hisself all up like that for? 'T'll jest ruin him in this +town, oncet for all! I'll have to speak to him. I'd rather be +scotch-wolloped." + +What scotch-wolloped means I do not know: but it was a favorite +expression of Long Billy's. So he walked back into the hotel, and +beckoned Mr. March out on the piazza. + +"Look here, Parson," he said, speaking very fast, and looking very +much embarrassed,--which was an odd thing for Billy,--"look here, +Parson, you ain't goin' to preach to-day, be yer?" + +"Why, no, Billy," said Mr. March; "why did you ask?" + +"Ain't these yer preachin' clo'es?" replied Billy, pointing to the +black coat. + +Mr. March laughed. + +"Why, yes, I have preached in them, Billy; but I do not expect ever +to again. I must wear them out, though." + +"Not in these parts, Parson," said Billy, solemnly, shaking his +head. "Yer don't know minin' towns so well's I do. Ef I was to take +you down town in that rig, there wouldn't one o' the fellers open +his head to yer. They'd shet up jest like snappin' turtles. Ye jest +go upstairs 'n' put on the clo'es ye allers wears won't ye?" said +Billy, almost pleadingly. + +"Why, certainly, Billy, if you really think it would make any +difference about my making friends with the people. I don't want to +offend anybody. These are pretty old clothes, though, Billy, if they +only knew it. It was to save my others that I put them on. But I'll +change them, if you say so." And Mr. March ran upstairs much amused. +When he came down in his rough suit and his blue flannel shirt, +Billy smiled with pleasure. + +"There," he said, "you look like a man in them clo'es, Parson. +Excuse my bein' so free; but I allers did think that the parsons' +clo'es had a good deal to do with fellers despisin' 'em's they do. +They allers call 'em 'Tender-feet.'" + +"Tender-feet!" exclaimed Mr. March; "what does that mean, Billy?" + +Billy did not answer immediately. He was puzzled to think of any +definition of "Tender-feet." + +"Well," he said at last, "don'no' as I can say exactly what it does +mean; but 'tain't because I don't know. Any feller that's +over-particular about his clo'es, 'n' his way o' livin', 'n' can't +rough it like the generality o' folks in Colorado, gets called a +'Tender-foot'! Lord, I'd rather be called a thief, any day!" + +Mr. March laughed heartily. + +"I see! I see!" he said. "Well now, Billy, you don't think there'd +be any danger of my ever being called a 'Tender-foot' do you?" + +"Not a bit of it, Parson," said Billy, emphatically, "when a feller +came to live with yer; but to see yer jest a walkin' round in them +black clo'es o' yourn, you'd get took for one. Yer would: that's a +fact. I should take yer for one myself. Yer may's well give that +suit up, oncet for all, Parson, for this country, I tell ye," added +Billy, thinking he would make sure that the danger did not occur +again. "Thet is," he continued, "except Sundays. I don't suppose +'twould do ye any harm to be seen in it Sundays, or to a dance." + +"I don't go to dances, Billy," said Mr. March; "perhaps I'll give +the suit away: that'll save all trouble." + +As they left the hotel, they saw Rob and Nelly walking hand in hand +up the steep road down which they had come the night before, +entering the village. + +"Where can the children be going?" said Mr. March. "Rob! Nelly!" he +called. They both turned and said: + +"What, papa?" but did not come towards him. + +"Where are you going?" he said. + +"Oh, only a little way up this road," replied Rob. + +"Don't you want to come with me?" said Mr. March. The children +hesitated. + +"Do you want us, papa?" said Nelly. + +"Why, no, certainly not," replied Mr. March, "unless you want to +come. I thought you would like to see the town: that's all." + +"We'd rather go up on the hill, papa," said Rob. "Mamma said we +might, if we wouldn't go out of sight of the hotel. Good-by!" + +"Good-by, papa!" called Nelly. And they both trudged off with a most +business-like air. + +Long Billy laughed. + +"Them youngsters got silver on the brain," he said. "Thet's what's +the matter with them. I've seen plenty o' grown folks jest the same +way in this country: a walkin', walkin' by the month to a time, a +pokin' into every hole, 'n' a hammerin' every stone,--jest wild +after gold 'n' silver. There's plenty on 'em's jest wasted time +enough on't to ha' made a considerable money, if they'd stuck to +some kind o' regular work. That little chap o' yourn, he's a driver; +he hain't never let go the idee of findin' a silver mine, sence the +day they hauled all them mica stuns down, back there'n the Pass. +They're a rare couple, he 'n' Nelly: they are." + +"Yes, they are good children," said Mr. March: "good children; but I +don't want them to get possessed with this desire for money." And he +looked anxiously up the hill, where he could see Rob and Nelly +striking off from the road, and picking their way across the rough +ground towards a great pile of gray ore, which had been thrown out +of one of the mines. + +Long Billy also looked up at them. + +"The little sarpents!" he said. "They're a makin' for the Pocahontas +mine, straight. Rob, he was askin' me all about the piles o' ore 'n' +the engines in the mines, yesterday." + +"Is there any danger of their being hurt?" said Mr. March. + +"Oh, no! I reckon not. That Nelly, she's jest the same's a grown +woman. I allers notice her a holdin' the little feller back. She +won't go into any resky places no more'n her ma would. She's got a +heap o' sense, that little gal has." + +While Mr. March and the children were away, Mrs. March sat at the +west window of her room, looking off into the beautiful valley. I +wish I could make you see just how it looked from her window; +however, no picture can show it, and I suppose no words can tell it; +but if you really want to try to imagine how it looked just ask +somebody who is with you while you are reading this page, to explain +to you how high a thousand feet would seem to you. If you can see +the spire of the church, and can know just how high that is, that +will help you get an idea of a thousand feet. Then you can imagine +that you are looking off between two high hills, right down into a +bit of green valley one thousand feet lower down than you are. Then +try to imagine that this bit of green valley looked very small; and +that, beyond it, there were grand high mountains, half covered with +snow. The lower half of the mountains looked blue: on a sunny day, +mountains always look blue in the distance; and the upper half was +dazzling white. This is the best I can do towards making you see the +picture which Mrs. March saw as she sat at her western window. After +all, I think Nelly's sentence was worth more than all mine, when she +said, "Oh, papa, it looks like a beautiful green bottom to a deep +well." The picture was so beautiful that Mrs. March did not want to +do anything but sit and look at it, and when her husband returned +from his walk in the village, she was really astonished to find that +she had sat at the window two whole hours without moving. The +children did not come home until noon. Their faces were red and +their eyes shone with excitement: they had had a fine time; they had +rambled on from one mine to another on the hill; wherever they saw a +pile of the gray ore, and a yellow pine building near it, they had +gone into the building and looked into the shaft down which the +miners went into the ground. They had found kind men everywhere who +had answered all their questions; and Rob had both his pockets full +of pieces of stone with beautiful colors, like a peacock's neck. Rob +had forgotten the name of the stone: so had Nelly. + +"It sounded something like prophets," said Nelly, "but it couldn't +have been that"; she handed a bit of the stone to Long Billy. + +"Oh," said he, glancing at it carelessly, "that's nothing but +pyrites; that's no account; they'll give you all you want of that." + +"I don't care:" said Rob, "it's splendid. I'm going to make a +museum, and I shall have the shelves full of it. But, mamma," he +said sadly, "there isn't any use in our looking for a mine. When I +told one of the men that we were going to see if we couldn't find a +mine, he just laughed, and he said that every inch of the ground all +round here belonged to people that thought they'd got mines. All +those little bits of piles of stones, with just a stick stuck up by +them, every one of those means that a man's been digging there to +find silver; and they're just as thick! why, you can't go ten steps +without coming on one! They call them 'claims.'" + +"That's so," said Long Billy; "and I'll tell ye what I call 'em. I +call 'em gravestones, them little sticks stuck up on stone heaps: +that's what most on 'em are, graves where some poor feller's buried +a lot o' hope and some money." + +Nelly turned her great dark eyes full on Long Billy when he said +this. Her face grew very sad: she understood exactly what he meant. +Rob did not understand. He looked only puzzled. + +"Graves!" exclaimed he. "Why, what do you call them graves for, +Billy? There isn't any thing buried in them." + +Billy looked a little ashamed of his speech; he did not often +indulge in anything so much like a flight of fancy as this. + +"Oh, nothin'!" he said. "That's only a silly way o' puttin' it." + +"I don't think so, Billy," said Nelly. "I think it's real true. +Don't you know, Rob, how awfully you and I felt when we thought we'd +found that mine up in the Pass, and it turned out nothing but mica? +We felt just as if we'd lost something." + +"I didn't," said Rob; "I just felt mad; and it makes me feel mad now +to think of it: how we lugged those heavy old stones all that way. I +wish I'd saved some for my museum though. All the boys here have +museums, a man told me, and perhaps I won't find any of that kind of +stone here." + +After dinner, they all drove down into the valley to look at their +new home. The road wound down in a zigzag way among a great many low +hills. Sometimes for quite a distance among these hills, you cannot +see the valley at all; and then all of a sudden you look right out +into it. As they went lower, they saw more and more of it, until at +last they reached it and came out on the level ground, where they +could look up and down the whole length of the valley. Long Billy +was driving them: when they reached the spot where the whole valley +lay in full view, he stopped the horses and, turning round to Mrs. +March, said:-- + +"Well, mum, did I tell the truth or not?" + +"No, Billy, you did not," replied Mrs. March, very gravely. + +Billy looked surprised, and was just about to speak when Mrs. March +continued:-- + +"You did not tell half how beautiful it is." + +"Ah!" said Billy. "Well, that kind o' lie I don't mind bein' charged +with." + +"Oh, papa! let me get out!" cried Nelly. "I want to walk in this +grass. Is this our grass?" + +The road was winding along between two fields of high grass, which +waved in the wind. As it waved, Nelly saw bright red and blue +flowers among it; some tall, and some low down close to the ground +as if they were hiding. + +"Yes, this is where our land begins," said her father; "this is our +own grass: but I don't want you to run in it; we must mow it next +week." + +"Oh, let us, papa; just a little bit--close to the fence. You can +spare a little bit of hay," pleaded Nelly; "we'll step light." + +"Do let them, Robert," said Mrs. March. "I should like to do it +myself." + +"Very well: keep close to the fence, then," said Mr. March, and +reined up the horses. Rob and Nelly jumped out, and had clambered +over the fence in a second, and waded into the grass. It was nearly +up to their shoulders, and they looked very pretty moving about in +it, picking the flowers. As Mrs. March was watching them, she +suddenly saw a brown bird with yellow breast fly out of the grass, +and perch on one of the fence-posts. + +"Oh, don't stir, children! don't stir!" she cried: "see that bird!" + +Rob and Nelly stood perfectly still. And what do you think that bird +did?--opened his mouth and sang the most exquisite song you ever +heard. The canary bird's song is not half so sweet. The bird was +not ten steps away from the carriage or from the children: there he +sat, looking first at one and then at the other, like a tame bird. +In a few seconds he sang again: then he spread his wings and flew a +little way into the field, and alighted on a tall, slender grass +stalk, and there he sat, swinging to and fro on the grass, and sang +again; then he flew away. Nobody drew a long breath till he had +gone. + +"That's a lark," said Billy; "this country's full on 'em; they're +the tamest birds for a wild bird I ever see. They'll sing to ye +right under your feet." + +"Well, he's a glorious chorister," said Mr. March. + +"If he's a chorister, I'd like to go where he keeps his choir," said +Rob. "I mean to catch one, and have him to sing in my museum." + +"Oh, no, Rob," said Nelly; "don't!" + +"They won't never sing in cages," said Billy. "I've seen it tried +many a time. They jest walk, walk, walk up and down, up and down in +the cage the hull time, and beat their wings. They can't stand bein' +shut up, for all they're so tame actin' while they're free." + +The children climbed back into the wagon now, with their hands full +of flowers; and Billy whipped up the horses. + +"Git up, Pumpkinseed! git up, Fox!" he said: "there's a crib o' corn +ahead for you." + +Very soon the new home came in sight. It looked, when they first saw +it, as if it were half buried in green grass; but, as they came +nearer, they saw that the enclosure in which the house and barns +stood was entirely bare of grass. This gave it a naked and barren +look which was not pleasing, and disappointed Mrs. March very much. +However, she said nothing; only thought to herself "I'll have green +grass up to that very doorstep, before another year's out." + +The house was very much like the one they had lived in, in the Ute +Pass, except that it was larger; there were three log-cabin barns, +two of which were very large; and a queer-shaped log-house, bigger +at the top than at the bottom, standing up quite a distance from the +ground, on posts. This was for wheat. Then there were two +dog-houses, and a great place built round with palings, to keep hens +in; and one or two large open sheds where wagons and carts stood. +Billy looked round on all these buildings with great pride. + +"I declare," said he, "there ain't such a ranch's this in all the +valley. What a dumb fool that Wilson was to go 'n' leave it. He's +put all he's worth, except this farm, into a mine up in Central; 'n' +now he'll go 'n' put the money for this in too, and's like's not +he'll never see a dollar on't again's long's he lives'. This minin' +jest crazes folks." + +"Did ye ever see a puttier farm'n this, mum?" he asked, turning to +Mrs. March. + +Mrs. March could not say that she had not. To her eye, accustomed to +Massachusetts green yards, shaded by elms and maples, this little +group of rough houses and sheds, standing up quite a distance from +the ground, on posts, few tufts of coarse grass, and weeds growing +around it, was very unsightly. But she did not want to say this; so +she said:-- + +"It is much the nicest place I have seen in Colorado, Billy; and +this valley is perfectly beautiful. But where is the creek?" + +"Right there, mum, just a few rods beyond that fence to the +west,--where you see that line of bushes." + +"I don't see any water," said Nelly. + +"No, you can't till yer come right on it," said Billy; "'tain't very +wide here, 'n' it jest slips along in the bushes 's if it was trying +to hide itself." + +"Papa," whispered Nelly, "doesn't Billy say queer things about +things, just as if every thing was alive, and had feelings as we do? +I like it." + +Mr. March smiled, and took Nelly's hand in his. + +"Girlie," he said, "Billy's a little of a poet, in his rough way." + +"He doesn't make verses: does he?" asked Nelly, reverentially. To +make verses had always been the height of Nelly's ambition, as many +a little roll of scribbled paper in her desk would show. But there +was one great trouble with Nelly's verses thus far: she never could +find any words that rhymed; and now to hear Billy called a poet +seemed very strange to her. + +"I never should have thought he could make verses," she continued. + +"Oh! making verses is the smallest part of being a poet, Nellie," +said Mr. March. "You can't understand that yet; but you will some +day." + +Then they all went into the house, and looked at room after room, +thinking what they would do with each. The rooms were sunny and +bright, but were so dirty that Mrs. March groaned. + +"Oh, how shall we ever get this place clean?" + +"I'll tell you," said Billy. "If ye don't mind the expense o' +stayin' at the hotel a week, an' if ye'll buy me a little paint, +I'll have this hull place so ye won't know it, in a week's time. +There's nothin' I can't turn my hand to; an' I'd like to fix things +up here for you, first rate. I saw up 't the other place about how +you like things." + +Billy had a quick eye for everything that was pretty. He had never +seen any house in Colorado which was so cosey and pretty as the +Marches' house in the Ute Pass; and he was thinking now in his heart +how he would like to make this new one as pretty as that. + +"Mebbe you couldn't trust me," he said, seeing that Mrs. March +hesitated. + +"Oh, yes, I could, Billy," she replied; "I have no doubt you could +put it all in beautiful order. I was thinking whether we ought to +stay"--she was going to say, "stay a whole week at the hotel"--but, +just at that minute, there came piercing shrieks in Rob's voice: + +"Papa! papa! Billy; come! come!" + +The shrieks came from the direction of the creek. + +"Oh, my God! he's fallen into the creek!" cried Mrs. March, as she +tried to run towards the spot. Long Billy dashed past her, with his +great strides, and said, as he passed:-- + +"Don't be skeered, mum; in the mud, most likely." + +The cries came feebler and feebler, and stopped altogether,--then a +loud burst of laughter from Billy, which brought the life back to +Mrs. March. She was clinging to the fence, nearly senseless with +terror; Nelly stood close by, her face white, and tears rolling down +her cheeks: when they heard Billy's laugh, they looked at each other +in amazement and relief. + +"He can't be in the creek, mamma," said Nelly: "Billy wouldn't +laugh." + +Then they heard Mr. March laugh, and say:-- + +"Hold on, Rob: don't be frightened; we'll get a rail." + +Then Billy came striding back out of the bushes, still laughing. +When he saw Mrs. March's and Nelly's agonized faces, his own sobered +instantly. + +"'Twas too bad, mum," he exclaimed, "to give ye such a skeer. He's +in the slough, thet's all; he's putty well in, too; he'll be a sight +to see when we get him fished out. He's in putty well nigh up to his +arms." + +Mrs. March could not help laughing; but Nelly only cried the more. + +"Poor dear Rob!" she said: "how he will feel!" And she began to +climb the fence. + +"Oh, Lor'! don't any more on ye come over here," cried Billy: "it's +all we can do to get round. The creek's overflowed: 'n' it's all +quakin' tussocks here; that's the way he went in, a jumpin' from one +to another." + +While Billy was speaking he was tearing off two of the top rails +from the fence. He seemed to be as strong as a giant. In a very few +minutes, he had two rails over his shoulder, and had plunged back +among the bushes. In a few minutes more, out they all came; Rob +being led between Mr. March and Billy. He was indeed, as Billy had +said he would be, "a sight to behold." Up to his very arms he was +plastered with black, slimy mud. + +"Oh, mamma, it smells horrid," was his first remark. "I wouldn't +mind if it didn't smell so." + +Nelly ran up as close to him as she dared. + +"Oh, Rob," she said, "how could you go in such a place! Why didn't +you stay with us?" + +"I wanted to see if there were any grapes yet," said Rob; "and you +couldn't have told yourself, Nell, that it wouldn't bear. Ugh! +What'll I do, mamma?" + +"I'm sure I don't know, Rob," said Mrs. March: she was at her wits' +end. She looked helplessly at Billy: Billy was rubbing his left +cheek with his right forefinger,--his invariable gesture when he was +perplexed. Mr. March also stood looking at Rob with a despairing +face. + +"I wish you wouldn't all look so at me," cried Rob, half crying: +"it's horrid to be stared at. What'll I do, mamma?" + +It was indeed a dilemma. Rob's trousers and jacket were dripping +wet, and coated thick with the muddy slime; his shoes were full of +it; as he walked about it made a gurgling noise, and spurted up; +his face was spattered with it; his hands were black; even his hair +had not escaped. + +"There's lots o' hay in the barn," said Billy; "we might rub a good +deal off on him with that. Me 'n' you'd better take him," said +Billy, nodding to Mr. March. "No, mum, ye stay where ye be; we'll +manage better without ye, this time," continued Billy, waving Mrs. +March back, as she set out to follow them. + +Poor Rob looked back, as Billy led him off towards the barn; the +tears ran down in the mud on his cheeks, and made little white +tracks all the way. + +"I think you're real mean to laugh, mamma," he said. + +Mrs. March was sorry to hurt his feelings, but she could not help +laughing. Nelly did not laugh, however: she looked almost as +wretched as Rob did. It seemed an age before any one came back from +the barn. Then Mr. March and Billy came out alone: Mr. March carried +Rob's trousers on a stick, and Billy carried the jacket and +stockings and shoes. + +"Why, what have you done with the child!" exclaimed Mrs. March: "he +will take cold, without any clothes on." + +Mr. March's eyes twinkled. + +"Well, he has some clothes on, such as they are," he said. "Billy +raised a contribution for him: my under-drawers and vest, and +Billy's coat; he's all rolled up in the hay, and you'd better go and +sit by him now." + +Mrs. March and Nelly hurried in. There lay Rob, all buried up in +hay: only his face to be seen. He looked very jolly now, and said he +felt perfectly comfortable. + +"Now tell me a story, mamma! tell me a story. You've got to tell me +stories as long as I stay here." + +So Mrs. March sat down on one side, and Nelly on the other, and Mrs. +March told them the story of the Master Thief, out of the Brothers +Grimm's "Fairy Stories of All Lands"; and, just as she got to where +the Master Thief was planning to steal the bottom sheet from off the +king's bed, she looked up and saw that Rob was fast asleep. + +"Oh, that's good," she said; "that's the best thing that could have +happened to him. Now we'll go out and look at the house again." + +"But, mamma," said Nelly, "I think I'll stay here. If he should wake +up, he would feel so lonely here; and he can't get out of the hay." + +"Thank you, dear: that is very kind of you," replied Mrs. March. +And, as she went out of the barn, she said to herself, "What a kind, +thoughtful child Nelly is. She really is like a little woman." + +Mrs. March could not find her husband and Billy anywhere; so she sat +down on the door-step of the house to wait for them. She looked up +and down the beautiful valley: it seemed a great deal more than +thirty miles long. The mountains at the south end of it looked blue +and hazy; the great Sangre di Christo Mountains, which made the +western wall, looked very near; the snow on them shone so brightly +it dazzled Mrs. March's eyes to look at it. After a time, she got up +from the door-step and walked round to the north side of the house. + +"Oh, there is Nelly's mountain!" she said. There stood Pike's Peak, +in full sight, to the northeast. It looked so grand and so high at +first, Mrs. March did not know it. This, too, had a great deal of +snow on it, and there were white clouds floating round the top; it +was the grandest sight in the whole view. There were no other houses +near; she could see only a few in the valley; and she could not see +Rosita at all. The road down which they had come seemed to end very +soon among the hills. + +"We shall not have much more to do with neighbors here than in the +Pass," thought Mrs. March. "But I do not care for that. One could +never be lonely with these mountains to look at." + +"Well, mum, here's the little feller's clo'es," said Billy, coming +up at this moment, with Rob's clothes hanging in a limp wet bundle +over his arm. "Now I'll jest make a rousin' fire back here, 'n' +you'll be astonished to see how quick they'll dry. I've washed 'em +in about five hundred waters,--that medder mud's the meanest stuff +to stick ye ever see,--but they'll be dry in no time now." + +"Mamma!" called Nelly, from the barn; "Rob's awake. He wants to get +up: he says he won't lie here another minute." + +"I'll show him his clo'es," said Billy. "I guess that'll convince +him," and Billy carried the wet bundle into the barn. Shouts of +laughter followed, and in a minute more Billy came out again, +shaking all over with laughter. "I jest offered 'em to him," said +he, "'n' told him he could get up 'n' put 'em on ef he wanted to; +but I rayther thought he'd better let 'em dry some fust." + +"What did he say?" asked Mrs. March. + +"He wanted to know how long it would take 'em to dry 'n' I told him +the best part of an hour; 'twill be some longer'n that, but I +couldn't pretend to be exact to a minnit, 'n' he laid back on the +hay 'n' sez he: 'You tell my mamma to come right here 'n' finish +that story she was a tellin'.'" + +When Mrs. March went back into the barn, she shouted aloud as soon +as she saw Rob. He had crawled out of his hay bed. It was too warm: +there he sat bolt upright, with his legs straight out in front of +him. Nelly had drawn the white drawer legs out to their full length, +and set Rob's shoes, toes up, in the hay at the end of them, so it +looked as if his legs were all that length; then Mr. March's gray +waistcoat came down nearly to his knees, and Billy's old brown coat +hung on his shoulders as loosely as a blanket. He looked up at his +mother with a perfectly grave face, and did not speak. Nelly was +laughing hard. "Isn't he too funny, mamma?" said she. + +"You can laugh now if you want to, mamma," said Rob politely. "I +don't mind your laughing at papa's drawers and waistcoat and Billy's +old coat. That's quite different from laughing at me." + +"Thank you, dear," said Mrs. March: "you're very kind; but I can get +along very comfortably without laughing at you now. You're not half +so funny as you were when you were covered with the mud." + +It took so long to dry Rob's clothes, that it was nearly dark when +they got back to Rosita. + +"Well, I reckoned you liked your house so well you weren't coming +back to us at all," said the landlord, as they drove up. + +"Oh, no, sir," cried Rob, "that wasn't it. I fell into the mud by +the creek: I always fall into the water each new place we go to. I +did it the first thing up in the Pass." + +The landlord looked closely at him. "What! you been into the creek +in them clothes?" + +"Billy washed them," said Nelly; "they were all black as mud." + +"Oh!" said the landlord. "Well, there ain't any thing under Heaven +that Long Billy can't do: that's certain." + +Mr. and Mrs. March thought so too, when one week later they drove +down to take possession of their home. Billy had pleaded so +earnestly to be allowed to do all the work himself that Mr. March +had consented; and had even promised him that they would not come +near the house until he invited them. Then Billy set to work in good +earnest, and Miss Lucinda Harkiss set to work with him. This was the +young woman to whom Billy was engaged. She was coming to be Mrs. +March's servant. A very good time Lucinda and Billy had all that +week. It was almost like going to housekeeping together for +themselves. The first day Lucinda swept and scrubbed the floors, and +washed the windows till they shone; then Billy stained all the +floors dark brown, and painted the window-sashes and the door-frames +brown; and this brown color was so pretty with the yellow of the +pine, that it made the rough boarded rooms look almost handsome. +While the paint was drying, Lucinda and Billy drove over to Pine's +ranch at the foot of one of the Sangre di Christo mountains. They +knew old Mr. Pine very well; and he was very glad to have them make +him a visit. All one day Billy worked hard digging up young +pine-trees, and Lucinda gathered a great quantity of kinnikinnick +vines. Billy had told her how Mrs. March had had them nailed up on +the walls in the other house. The next day they drove home early in +the morning, and in the afternoon Billy set out a row of the little +pine-trees all round the house. "Even if they don't grow, they'll +look green for a spell," he said to Lucinda; "an' ye never see a +woman hanker arter green stuff's Miss March does. There wan't a +livin' thing growin' in the Ute Pass, but what she had it in a +pitcher or a tumbler or a tin can, a settin' round in her house. And +as for that Nelly, she'd bring in her arms full o' flowers every day +o' her life. You'll like 'em all, Lucinda, see if you don't. They +ain't like most o' the folks out here." + +Lucinda had a good many fears about coming to live with Mrs. March. +She had never been a servant; but she wanted to be married to Billy +as much as he wanted to be married to her, and she thought if she +could earn good wages and lay all the money up, they could be +married sooner. + +"I shall like them well enough, I dare say," said Lucinda; "but I +don't know how I'll stand being ordered round." + +"Ordered round!" said Billy, in a scornful tone. "I tell you they +ain't the orderin' round kind; they're the reel genuwine fust-class +folks; an' genuwine fust-class folks don't never order nobody to do +nothing: I tell you I shouldn't stand no orderin' any more'n you +would. Mr. March he always sez to me, 'We'd better do so and so,' if +there's anything he wants done; 'n' he works 's hard as I do, any +day, 'n' Miss March she's jest like him. You'll see how 'twill be. I +ain't a mite afeared." + +After the paint was dry, they nailed up the vines; and Billy added +to them some pine boughs with great clusters of green cones on them +which were beautiful. Then they unpacked the boxes of furniture; and +Billy showed Lucinda how to put up the chintz curtains in the +sitting-room, and the white ones in the bedrooms, and, when it was +all done, it looked so pretty that Billy could not help saying:-- + +"Don't you wish it was our house, Luce?" He always called her Luce +for short. "Can't take time for no three-storied names 'n this +country," said Billy; "two's too many." + +Lucinda blushed a little, and said:-- + +"We can make ours just as pretty some day, Billy." + +"That's so, Luce," said Billy: "you'll get lots o' idees out o' Miss +March. She's what I call a reel home-y woman. I hain't never seen +nobody I've took to so since I left hum." + +When everything was ready, the house and the barns and sheds all in +order, and the whole enclosure raked over and made as tidy as +possible, Billy said:-- + +"Now, we'll jest keep 'em waitn' one more day. You make up a lot o' +your best bread, and churn some butter; 'n' I'll go over to Pine's +and pick two or three gallons o' raspberries. They're just ripe to +pick now, 'n' this is the last chance I'll get. Then you 'n' Miss +March can preserve 'em. I know she wants some. I heard her say so +when we was a comin' up Hardscrabble Canyon." + +Something besides raspberries Billy brought back from Pine's ranch +that night,--something that he never dreamed of getting, something +which pleased him so greatly he fairly snapped his fingers with +delight,--it was a little pet fawn. "Old-man Pine" had had it for +several months; it had strayed down out of the woods, when it was +too young to find its way back; he had found it early one morning +lapping milk out of the milk-pan he kept outside his cabin-door for +his dog Spotty. He had caught it without difficulty, and tamed it, +so that it followed him about like a puppy. Sometimes it would +disappear for a few days, but always came back again. It was a +lovely little creature, almost white under its belly, and on the +under side of its legs; but all the rest of a beautiful bright red. +When Billy told old Mr. Pine about the March family, and about the +twin brother and sister, who were such nice children, the old man +said:-- + +"Don't you think they'd like to have the fawn? It's a pesky little +thing, for all it's so pretty, an' I'm tired on't. There was a man +offered me seven dollars for it, a while ago, but I thought I didn't +want to let it go; but ye may have it for them children if ye want +it. Ye can tell 'em I sent it to 'em; an' I'm the oldest settler in +this valley, tell 'em. Yer must bring 'em over to see me some time." + +Billy promised to do so. + +"They'll go clean out o' their heads when they see the critter," he +added. "They've been a talkin' about deer ever since they come: deer +an' silver are the two things they're full of. They've pretty near +walked their little feet off by this time, I expect, lookin' fur a +mine. They took the idee's soon's they see the wagon-load o' ore I +was haulin' through the Ute Pass: that's when I fust knew 'em; an' I +declare to you, the youngsters hain't never let go on't, 'n' I +dunno's they ever will." + +"Mebbe, then, they'll find a mine yet," said old Pine. "There's one +o' the best mines in all Californy was found by a little feller not +more'n ten years old. He jest hauled up a bush with solid gold a +stickin' in the roots. + +"You don't say so!" said Billy. "Well, there ain't no such free +gold's that in this country; but I wouldn't like any thing much +better, next to findin' a mine myself, than to have Mr. March's +folks find one. They're the sort o' folks ought to have money." + +Billy worked very late that night fencing a little bit of the green +meadow nearest the house, to keep the fawn in. The little creature +seemed shy and frightened; and, when Billy drove away in the morning +to bring the family down, he charged Lucinda to go out often and +speak to it and feed it with sugar. + +"I'd like to have it get over its scare before Nelly sees it," he +said; "for, if it don't seem to be happy, she's just the gal to go +on the sly and let the critter out, so it could go where it wants +to." + +Billy was much disappointed, when he reached the hotel, to learn +that Mr. and Mrs. March and the children were out. They had gone to +one of the mines, and would not be back till dinner-time; for they +were going down into the mine. + +"I never see any thing in all my life like that little chap," said +the landlord. "He don't rest a minute. I believe he 'n' his sister +have walked over every foot o' ground within five miles o' this +house; 'n' there ain't a workin' mine in all these gulches that he +don't know by name; 'n' he'll tell you who's the foreman 'n' how +many workmen are on; 'n' he's got about a wheelbarrow full o' +specimens o' one sort 'n' another, for his museum, 's he calls it. +The little girl she seems a kind o' nurse to him, she's so steady; +but they say they're twins: you wouldn't ever think it." + +"No, that you wouldn't," replied Billy; "but they are. I like the +gal best myself. She don't say much; but there ain't nothin' escapes +her, 'n' she's just the sweetest-tempered little thing that was ever +born. She's too good: that's the worst on't. I don't like to see +youngsters always doin' right; 't don't look healthy." + +Poor Lucinda's nice dinner was almost spoiled,--it had to wait so +long before the family came. Billy had not once thought of the +possibility of his not finding them at home, and had called out to +Lucinda, as he drove off:-- + +"Now, mind, Luce, you have all ready at one, sharp. We'll be here +before that time." + +So, when Billy drove into the yard, at half-past two o'clock, he +felt quite crestfallen, and half afraid to see Lucinda's face in the +doorway. But she smiled pleasantly, and only said:-- + +"How punctual you are, to be sure! Dinner won't be very good." + +"Never mind, Lucinda," said Mrs. March. "We were not at home. It +wasn't Billy's fault. He has been worrying about you for an hour. It +will taste very good to us all, for we are hungry." + +Mrs. March praised every thing in the house, till Billy's face and +Lucinda's grew red with pleasure; and Mr. March also praised +everything out of doors. + +"Didn't I tell you, Luce," said Billy, at the first chance he found +to whisper in her ear, "didn't I tell you they was nice folks to +work for? They don't let you slave yourself to death for 'em like +some folks, 'n' never say so much 's a thank you." + +The delight of Rob and Nelly in the fawn was greater than could be +told in words. They ran round and round the enclosure, to see it +upon all sides; they fed it, till it would not eat another mouthful; +they stood still, gazing at it with almost unbelief in their faces. + +"Oh, is it really our own? Will it always stay?" they cried. "It is +too good to be true." + +I don't believe there was in all Colorado a happier family than went +to sleep under Mr. March's roof that night. Everybody was entirely +satisfied with the home and with everybody in it. Even Watch and +Trotter sat in the low-arched doors of their new houses, and held +their heads up, and looked around them with an air of contentment +and pride. They had never had houses of their own before. They had +slept on the great pile of sawdust by the old mill; but they walked +straight into these little houses and took possession of them as +naturally as possible. They almost made you think of people who, +when they come into possession of things much finer than they have +been accustomed to, try very hard to act as if they had had them all +their lives. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +WET MOUNTAIN VALLEY + + +And now my story must skip over three whole years. There is so much +to tell you about Nelly, and her life in Wet Mountain Valley, that, +if I do not skip a good deal, the story will be much too long. The +first year was a very happy and prosperous one. There were big crops +of wheat and hay, and they were sold for good prices, so that Mr. +March had more money than he needed to live on, and he was so +pleased that he spent it all for new things,--some new books, some +new furniture, and a nice new carriage much more comfortable for +Mrs. March to drive in than the white-topped wagon. Mrs. March felt +very sorry to have this money spent; she wanted it put away to keep; +but, as I told you before, Mr. March always wanted to buy every +thing he liked, and he thought that there would always be money +enough. + +"Why, Sarah!" he said; "here's the land! It can't run away! and we +can always sell the hay and the wheat; and the cattle go on +increasing every year. We shall have more and more money every year. +By and by, when we get things comfortable around us, we can lay up +money; but I really think we ought to make ourselves comfortable." + +So Mr. March bought everything that Billy said he would like to have +to work with on the farm, and he sent to Denver for books and for +clothes for Rob and Nelly, and almost every month he added some new +and pretty thing to the house. Thus it went on until at the end of +the year, all the money which had been made off the farm was gone, +and all their own little income had been spent too. Not a penny had +been laid up in the house except by Billy and Lucinda. They had laid +up two hundred and fifty dollars apiece. They had each had three +hundred and had spent only fifty. + +"Luce," said Billy, "one more such year's this, an' we can take +that little house down to Cobb's and farm it for ourselves." + +"Yes," said Lucinda, hesitatingly, "but I'd a most rather stay's we +are. I don't ever want to leave Mrs. March 'n' the children; and you +'n' I couldn't be together any more'n we are now." + +"Why, Luce!" said Billy; and he walked out of the kitchen without +another word. He was grieved, Lucinda ran after him. + +"Billy!" she said. + +"What?" said Billy, chopping away furiously at a big pine log. + +"I didn't mean that I wouldn't go if you thought best; only that I +hated to leave the folks. Of course, I expect we'll go when the time +comes. You needn't get mad." + +"Oh, I ain't mad," said poor Billy; "but it sounded kind o' +disappintin', I tell yer. I like the folks's well's you do; but a +man wants to have his own place, and his children a growin' up round +him; but I shan't ask you to go till you're ready: you may rest +'sured o' that." And with this half way making up, Lucinda had to be +satisfied. + +Before the second summer was over, Mr. March was quite ready to +acknowledge that it would have been wiser to follow his wife's +advice, and lay up all the money which they did not absolutely need +to spend. Just as the crops were well up, and bidding fair to be as +large as before, there came all of a sudden, in a night, a great +army of grasshoppers and ate everything up. You little children in +the East who have seen grasshoppers only a few at a time, as you +walk through the fields in the summer, cannot have the least idea of +how terrible a thing an army of grasshoppers can be. It comes +through the air like a great cloud: in less than a minute, the +ground, the fences, the trees, the bushes, the grass, the +door-steps, the outsides of the windows, are all covered thick with +them; millions and millions of millions, all eating, eating, as fast +as they can eat. If you drive over a road where they are, they rise +up in great masses, their wings making a whistling noise, and horses +are afraid to go along. Think of that: a great creature like a horse +afraid of such little creatures as grasshoppers! Nobody would +believe without seeing it, how a garden or a field looks after one +of these grasshopper armies has passed over it. It looks as bare and +brown as if it had been burned with fire. There is not left the +smallest bit of green leaf in it. This is the way all Mr. March's +fields looked in one week after the grasshoppers came into the +valley. All the other farmers' fields were in the same condition. It +was enough to make your heart ache to look at them. After there was +nothing more left to eat, then the great army spread its wings and +moved on to the South. + +Mr. March looked around him in despair. It had all happened so +suddenly he was confused and perplexed. It was almost like having +your house burn down over your head. In one week he had lost a whole +year's income. It was too late for the things to grow again before +the autumn frosts which come very early in the valley. + +This was real trouble. However, Mr. and Mrs. March kept up good +courage, and hoped it would never happen again. They sold their +pretty new carriage and all the other things that they could spare, +to get money to buy food for themselves and for the cattle; and they +told Billy and Lucinda that they could not afford to keep them any +longer. + +"We must do all our own work this winter, Billy," said Mr. March; +"if you don't get any thing better to do, I'll be glad of you next +summer; but this winter we have got to be as saving as possible. Rob +will help me, and Nelly'll help her mother: we must put our +shoulders to the wheel like the rest." + +Billy was not surprised to hear this. On the morning the +grasshoppers appeared, he had said to Lucinda:-- + +"Luce, do you see those pesky varmints? They'll jest clean out this +valley in about ten days, 'n' you 'n' me may's well pack our trunks. +There won't be victuals for any extra mouths here this year, I tell +you; I shouldn't wonder if it jest about broke Mr. March up. He +hain't got any ready money to fall back on. He paid down about all +he had for this place, 'n' he's spent a sight this last year. Blamed +if I don't wish I hadn't asked him for a thing. He's the generousest +man ever was. It's a shame he should have such luck. I don't count +on next summer nuther, for the ground'll be chuck full of the nasty +beasts' eggs: ten to one they'll be worse next year than they are +this: there's no knowin'. We might's well get married, Luce, an' if +there's any thing doing in the valley at all, I can allers get it to +do." + +So, early in the autumn Billy and Lucinda were married, and went to +live in "Cobbs's Cabin," a little log cabin about two miles from Mr. +March's place, on the road to Rosita. The winter was a long and a +hard one: hay was scarce and dear; and all sorts of provisions were +sold at higher prices than ever before. The March family, however, +were well and in good spirits. Nelly and Rob enjoyed working with +their father and mother,--Rob in the barn and out in the fields, and +Nelly in the house. They still studied an hour every day, and +recited to their father in the evening. Rob studied Latin, and Nelly +studied arithmetic; and their mother read to them every night a few +pages of history, or some good book of travels. Rob did not love to +study, and did only what he must; but Nelly grew more and more fond +of books every day. She did not care for her dolls any longer. Even +the great wax doll which Mrs. Williams had given her was now very +seldom taken out of the box. All Nelly wanted to make her happy was +a book: it seemed sometimes as if it did not make much difference to +her what sort of a book. She read every thing she could find in the +house; even volumes of sermons she did not despise; and it was an +odd thing to see a little girl twelve years old reading a big, old +leather bound volume of sermons. Rob used to laugh at her and say:-- + +"Oh, pshaw, Nell! what makes you read that? Read Mayne Reid's +stories: they're worth while. What do you want to read sermons for, +I'd like to know?" And Nelly would laugh too, and say:-- + +"Well, Rob, they aren't so nice as stories; but I do like to read +them. It's like hearing papa preach." + +To which Rob would reply, in a cautious whisper:-- + +"Well, I'm glad we don't have to hear papa preach any more. I hate +sermons. I'm never going to church again's long's I live; and, when +I'm a man, I sha'n't make my boys go to church if they don't want +to." + +The third summer began just as the one before it had begun, with a +great promise of fine crops; but they were no sooner fairly under +way, than the grasshoppers came again, and ate them all up. This was +very discouraging. Mr. March did not know what to do. He sold a good +many of his cows; and, before the summer was over, he sold some of +his books; but that money did not last long, and they were really +very poor. Now came the time when Nelly's little head began to be +full of plans for earning money. She asked her mother, one day, to +let her go up into Rosita and sell some eggs. + +Mrs. March looked at her in surprise. + +"Why, Nell," she said, "you couldn't walk so far." + +"Oh, yes, I could," said Nelly. "Rob and I often walk up to the top +of the hill: it's only a little way from Billy's house, and we often +go there; and I know I could sell all our eggs,--and some butter +too, if we could make enough to spare. I'd like to, too. I think it +would be good fun." + +"I'll ask your father," replied Mrs. March. "I don't think he'd be +willing: but if we could get a little money that way, it would be +very nice. We don't need half the eggs." + +When Mrs. March told her husband of Nelly's proposition, his cheeks +flushed. + +"What a child Nelly is!" he exclaimed. "I can't bear to have her go +round among those rough miners. I've often thought myself of +carrying things up there to sell; but I thought my time was worth +more on the farm than any thing I could make selling eggs. Oh, +Sarah!" he exclaimed, "I never thought we should come to such a pass +as this." + +"Now, Robert, don't be foolish," said Mrs. March, gayly. "There +isn't the least disgrace in selling butter and eggs. I'd as soon +earn a living in that way as in any other. But I wouldn't like to +have Nelly run any risk of being rudely treated." + +"I don't believe she would be," said Mr. March; "her face is enough +to make the roughest sort of a man good to her. You know how Billy +worshipped her; and he's a pretty rough fellow on the surface. I +think we might let her try it once, and see what happens." + +And so it came to pass, that, early in the third summer of their +stay in Wet Mountain Valley, Nelly set off one morning at six +o'clock with a basket on her arm, holding three dozen of eggs and +two pounds of butter, which she was to carry up into Rosita to sell. +Rob pleaded hard to go too, but his father would not consent. + +"Nelly will do better by herself," he said. "You will be sure to get +into some scrape if you go." + +"I don't care," said Rob, as he bade Nelly good-by: "you just wait +till trout time: see if I don't make him let me go then. I can make +more money selling trout than you can off eggs, any day. A gentleman +told me one day when he drove by where I was fishing, one day last +summer, that he'd give me forty cents a pound for all I had in my +basket; and I told him I wasn't fishing to sell: I was real mad. I +didn't know then we were going to sell things; but, if we are, I may +as well sell trout; the creek's full of them." + +"Well, we are going to sell things, I tell you," said Nelly: "I +don't know what else there is for us to do. We haven't got any +money; I think papa's real worried, and mamma too; and you and I've +just got to help. It's too bad! I don't see what God made +grasshoppers for." + +"To catch trout with," said Rob, solemnly: "there isn't any thing +else half so good." + +Nelly laughed, and set off at a brisk pace on the road to Rosita. +Her father stood in the barn door watching her. As her little figure +disappeared, he said aloud:-- + +"God bless her! she's the sweetest child a man ever had!" + +It was almost five miles from Mr. March's house to Rosita. For the +first half of the way, the road lay in the open valley, and had no +shade; but, as soon as it began to wind in among the low hills, it +had pine-trees on each side of it; the little house where Billy and +Lucinda lived stood in a nook among these pines. Nelly reached this +house about seven o'clock, just as Billy and Lucinda were finishing +their breakfast. She walked in without knocking, as she always did. + +"Bless my soul alive!" exclaimed Billy. "Why, what on airth brings +you here, to this time o' day, Nelly?" + +Nelly had placed her basket on the floor and sat down in a rocking +chair and was fanning herself with her sun-bonnet. Her face was very +red from the hot sun, but her eyes were full of fun. + +"Going up to Rosita, Billy," she said. "Guess what I've got in the +basket." + +"A kitten," said Lucinda: "your mother promised me one." + +"Oh, dear, no!" said Nelly; "a weasel ate them up last Saturday +night: all but one; and that one the old cat must keep. Guess +again." + +Billy did not speak. He guessed the truth. + +"Your luncheon," said Lucinda. + +"Yes," said Nelly, "my luncheon's in there, on the top; but +underneath I've got eggs and I've got butter. I'm going to sell them +in Rosita, and mamma said I was to stop and ask you what price I +ought to tell the people. She didn't know." + +Billy walked hastily out of the room and slammed the door behind +him. This was what Long Billy always did when he felt badly about +any thing. His first idea was to get out in the open air. Lucinda +looked after him in astonishment. She did not think of any reason +why he should feel sorry about Nelly's selling the butter and eggs, +but she saw something was wrong with him. + +"Why, you don't say so, Nelly!" she replied. "Well, I dare say +you'll make a nice little penny. Eggs is thirty cents, and butter +thirty-five to forty: your mother's ought to be forty. What're you +goin' to do with the money?" + +"Why, it isn't for myself!" said Nelly, in a tone of great +astonishment: "it's for papa and mamma. I don't want any for myself. +But you know we don't have hardly any money now; and I asked mamma +to let me see if I couldn't get some in Rosita. Rob's going to sell +trout too, by and by: as soon as they're plenty." + +Billy came back into the room now; and, looking away from Nelly, he +said:-- + +"See here, child: you let me carry them things up to town for ye. Ye +stay here with Luce. I've got to go up anyway to-day or to-morrow. +It's too fur for ye to walk." + +"Oh, no, Billy, thank you!" said Nelly. "It isn't too far. I've +often and often walked up to the hill where you look right into the +streets. And I want to go; I wouldn't miss it for any thing." + +"Well, I'm goin' along with yer, anyhow," said Billy. "Luce, you get +me that flour-sack." And, as Lucinda went into the closet to get it, +he followed her in and shut the door. + +"Ain't that a shame, Luce," he said, "to have that little thing go +round sellin' eggs? I expect they're awful hard up, or they wouldn't +ever have done it. I tell you it jest cuts me. Mr. March don't know +them miners 's well's I do. I shall tell him it ain't no place for +gals." + +"You're jest off all wrong now, Billy," replied Lucinda. "It's you +that don't know miners. There wouldn't a man in Rosita say a rough +word before Nelly no sooner'n you would. They'll jest all take to +her: you see if they don't. And it's a real sensible thing for the +children to do. I've been thinking o' doing the same thing myself. +There's lots o' money to be made off eggs." + +Billy was unconvinced; but he was too wise to say so. + +"Well, well," he said, "we shall see. I'll go up with her to-day, +and tell her which houses are the best houses to go to. If she's +going to do it regular, she'd better have regular houses, and not be +a gaddin' all about town, knockin' at doors. Oh, I tell you, Luce, +it just cuts me! I can't stand it." + +"Well, I don't see nothin' so very dreadful in it," replied Lucinda. +"The gal's got the sense of a woman: she'll look out for herself as +well as if she was twenty; and there's lots o' money to be made off +eggs; I tell you that." + +Nelly trudged along by Billy's side as cheery as a lark. She showed +him a little brown silk bag she had to bring home the money in; it +was in a pocket in her petticoat, and she had to lift up her gown to +get at it. + +"Mamma put that in yesterday," she said: "I asked her to. I saw a +lady in the cars once, Mrs. Williams: such a beautiful lady,--she +gave me that big wax doll. She carried all her money in a pocket in +her petticoat, under her gown; because, she said, nobody could get +at that to steal it." + +Billy laughed immoderately. The idea of a little girl's pocket being +picked on the road from Rosita down into Wet Mountain Valley was +very droll. + +"Well, Nelly," he said, "you've got a long head o' your own; but I +reckon you took a little more pains than you needed to, that time. +Nobody's goin' to think o' such a thing as pickin' your pocket +here." + +"Mamma thought it was a very good plan," said Nelly, with an air of +dignity; "and I think so too. Men can't tell about women's pockets: +pockets in trousers are much harder to get at." At which Billy only +laughed the harder; and at night, when he went home and told +Lucinda, he had another fit of laughter over it. + +"To think o' that little mite standin' out to me that I couldn't +jedge about women's pockets, pockets in trousers was so different! +Oh, Lord!" said Billy, stretching his long legs out on the wooden +settee: "I thought I should ha' died. You was right though, Luce, +about the men. I'll own up. That child can go from eend to eend o' +thet town safe's if she was one o' the Lord's angels in white,--if +that's what they wear,--an' wings on her shoulders: only I never did +believe much in the wings. But you oughter've seen how the men +looked at her. You know she's got a different look about her somehow +from most gals: she ain't pretty, but you can't take your eyes off +her; an' she's so pretty spoken: that does it, more'n her looks. +When we come by the stamp-mill, at noon, the men was all pourin' +out; and afore I knew it we was right in the midst on 'em: a runnin' +an' cuffin' and tumblin' each other, and not choosin' their words +much. Nelly she took right hold o' my hand, but she never said +nothin'. + +"'Hullo, sis,' sez Jake Billings; and he pushed her little +sun-bonnet back off her head. I declare I'd a notion to knock him +over; but Nelly she looked up at him an' jest laughed a little, and +sez she:-- + +"'Oh, please, sir, don't: you'll make me drop my eggs.' And he +looked as ashamed as I ever see a man. And he put her bonnet right +back on her head agin, and sez he:-- + +"'Let me carry 'em: won't ye, sis?' + +"Ye see she wouldn't let me so much's touch the basket all the way, +though I kept askin'. She said she was goin' to carry it always, an' +she might as well begin; an' it wan't heavy; but I know 'twas, for +all her sayin' 'twan't, heavy, that is, for her little pipes o' +arms. + +"'No, thank you,' said she to Jake: 'Billy wanted to carry them for +me; but I wouldn't let him. I like to carry them all the way myself, +to see if I can. I'm going to come every week, perhaps twice a +week.' + +"'Be ye?' said Jake. 'Whose little gal are ye, and where do ye +live?' + +"Then I told him all about her folks; and all the rest o' the men +they walked along with us 's quiet and steady you wouldn't ha' known +'em; and Jake he took her right into that Swede's house, you know: +Jan, the one that boards some o' the hands." + +"Oh, yes!" said Lucinda; "and Ulrica, his wife's the nicest woman +among the whole set." + +"Well," continued Billy, "Jake he took her right in there. 'Jan'll +buy all your eggs,' sez he: 'he's allers wantin' eggs.' I followed +on: Nelly she was goin' with Jake, jest as if she'd ha' known him +all her life; but she looked back, an' sez, in that little voice o' +hern, jest like the sweetest fiddle I ever heard:-- + +"'Come along, Billy,' sez she, 'and see if I can't sell eggs.' + +"An' as soon as she got inter the house, she walked right up to +Ulrica, and held out her basket, and sez:-- + +"'Would you like to buy some eggs to-day, ma'am? I'm selling 'em for +my papa and mamma: and they're thirty cents a dozen.' + +"Ulrica don't understand English much, and Nelly's words didn't +sound like the English she was used to; an' she couldn't make her +out: but Jan he stepped up, and explained to her; and then Ulrica +took hold o' Nelly's long braids o' hair, and lifted 'em up, and +said something to Jan in their own language; an' he nodded his head, +an' looked at Nelly real loving: and sez to me, in a whisper like:-- + +"'The wife thinks she looks like our little Ulrica: and she ain't +unlike her, that's true; though she's bigger'n our little girl when +she died.' + +"All this time Nelly was a lookin' from one to the other on 'em with +her steady eyes, an' makin' 'em out. They took all her eggs; but the +butter they said she'd better take up to Mr. Clapp's, the owner o' +the Black Bull Mine. Mis Clapp was very particular about her butter, +an' 'd give a good price for it. So we went up to his house; and +just as soon as Mis Clapp sot her eyes on Nelly, I could see how she +took to her, by the way she spoke: an' she took the butter an' paid +her the eighty cents; and you'd oughter seen Nelly a liftin' up her +caliker gown to get to her petticoat, and drawin' out her little +silk bag, an' putting in the money,--countin' it all as keerful as +any old woman. Mis Clapp she laughed, and sez she:-- + +"'You're a real little business woman: ain't you?' + +"'Yes'm,' sez Nelly, as grave as a jedge, 'I'm goin' to be. Would +you like some more butter next week? I can bring some on Saturday.' + +"Then Mis Clapp she jest engaged three pounds a week regular: an' +Nelly thought that'd be all they could spare now." + +"Pshaw!" interrupted Lucinda: "Mis March ain't no hand to skimp: but +they might spare four's well's not." + +"Well," said Billy, "I guess they will when they see the money a +comin' in so easy. That'll be one dollar and sixty cents a week; and +the eggs'll be say one dollar an' eighty more: that'll putty nigh +keep 'em in meat 'n' flour. I'm real glad they thought on't. But I +expect it goes agin Mr. March dreadful. That gal's the apple o' his +eye: that's what she is." + +"Well, he might go hisself, then," said Lucinda, scornfully, "if he +thinks it's too lowerin' for his gal: I don't see nothin' to be +ashamed on in't myself. If sellin' is honorable business for men, I +don't see why it ain't for women 'n' gals." + +"Now, Luce," exclaimed Billy, "don't be contrary. You know's well's +I do what I mean. There's plenty o' things you don't want gals to do +that's honorable enough, so fur's thet goes. But I must tell ye what +Ulrica did 's we were comin' out o' town. There she stood waitin' +in her door. She'd been watchin' for us all the arternoon; an' 's +soon's she see us, she began a beckonin and a callin'; an' we +crossed over, 'n' there she hed a little picture o' their gal that +was dead; an' sez she, holdin' it up to me an' pointin' to Nelly:-- + +"'Is it not the same face? Do you not see she haf the same face as +mine child?' And then she gave Nelly such a hug and kiss, and Nelly +she kissed her back just as kind's could be, and sez she:-- + +"'I am glad I look like your little girl; but you mustn't cry, or I +shall not come again.' + +"'Oh, yes, yes, come again: all days come again!' sez Ulrica: and +she was cryin' too all the time. Then she gave Nelly a paper bag +full of queer little square cakes with a picture stamped on 'em. +They have 'em at Christmas, she said, in her country. Nelly wan't +fur takin' 'em; but I nudged her, 'n' told her to take +'em,--Ulrica'd be hurt if she didn't. After we got away from the +house, Nelly sez to me, kind o' solemn, sez she:-- + +"'Billy, I don't like to look like so many dead little girls. Isn't +it queer? That was what Mrs. Williams said,--that nice lady: she +used to cry, and say I looked like her little girl that was dead; +and now it's a little girl way off in Sweden. Isn't it queer?" + +"But I tried to put it out of her head; but she kept talking about +it all the way. I think people needn't say such things to children; +it jest makes 'em gloomy for nothing." + +The account Nelly gave to her father and mother of her day in Rosita +was almost as graphic as Billy's. She had thoroughly enjoyed the +day. She was pretty tired; but not too much so to have a fine +scamper with Rob and the pet deer in the paddock after tea. And the +air castles that she and Rob built that night after they had gone to +bed were many stories high. Nelly was sure that if her mother would +only make butter enough, and her father would buy some more hens, +she could earn all the money they needed to have. + +"Why, Rob," she said, "you see I had more than two dollars to-day; +and the basket wasn't a bit heavy: I could have carried twice as +much. If I could make four dollars each day, don't you see how soon +it would be hundreds of dollars? hundreds, Rob!" + +"Yes," said Rob; "and I could make as much more by the trout: and +there would be hundreds and hundreds. And strawberries, Nell! +Strawberries! why couldn't we sell strawberries? Old Mr. Pine said +we could have all we could pick." + +"I thought of that," replied Nelly; "but we haven't any horses now +to carry us over there. You know we always went in the wagon." + +"Pooh!" said Rob, "we could go just as well in the ox-cart." + +"But wouldn't it take all day to get there?" said the wise Nelly: +"to get there and back?" + +"Oh," said Rob, "I never thought of that. Perhaps Mr. Scholfield +would lend us his horses some day." + +"I don't believe papa would--like--to--borrow," said Nelly, +drowsily; and in a second more she was sound asleep. + +Mr. and Mrs. March, also, were building some air castles, resting on +the same foundations as Rob's and Nelly's. Nelly's happy and +animated face when she returned, and her enthusiastic account of her +day's work, had surprised both her father and mother. + +"I thought she would be so tired out she would never want to go +again," said Mrs. March; "but she is full of the idea of going twice +a week, all the time." + +"The exercise is not bad for her," replied Mr. March, hesitatingly: +"I have no fears about that. And I suppose it is a false pride which +makes me shrink so from letting her carry about things to sell. We +are very poor, and we do need the money; and the child's impulse to +help us is a true and noble one; but I can't be wholly reconciled to +the idea yet. If we do permit it, I shall keep an exact account of +every penny the dear child brings into this house; and, if we are +ever in comfortable circumstances again, I shall pay it all back to +her with interest. I have made up my mind to that." + +"It will be a nice fund to pay for her having a year or two at some +good school, when she is older," said Mrs. March, cheerfully; "and I +do not feel as you do about her selling things. I think it will +never do her the least harm in any way. Some of the best and noblest +people in the world have gone through just such struggles in their +youth. I see no disgrace in it: not the least; and I have perfect +faith in Nelly's good behavior under all circumstances." + +"Yes," said Mr. March, "she can be trusted anywhere. I only wish Rob +had half her steadiness of head." + +"Rob will come out all right," said Mrs. March: "you don't do +justice to him. His heart is in the right place." + +Mr. March laughed. + +"You never will hear a word against Rob," said he. + +"Nor you against Nelly," replied Mrs. March. "Now I think Nelly's +obstinacy is quite as serious a fault as Rob's hasty impulsiveness." + +"Nelly's obstinacy!" exclaimed Mr March: "what do you mean? I never +saw a trace of it." + +"No: you never would," said Mrs. March, "because you never have +occasion to deal with her in little matters. To me she is always +obedient; but with Rob she is as unyielding as a rock in the most +trifling matters. When they were little it was quite +different,--while he was ill so much, you know; then she used to +give up to him so much I thought it would spoil him. But now she +literally rules the boy; and I can't help it. Why, the other day +they had a really serious quarrel as to where their hair-brushes +should be kept. I don't know what made Rob stand out so: usually he +gives up. I did not interfere, because I wish them to settle all +such matters themselves; but I heard Nelly say:-- + +"'Rob March! you can move those hair-brushes just as often as you +please: it won't make the least difference. I shall move them right +back again into this drawer, if it's every day of your life till +you're fifty years old!' + +"'I sha'n't live with you when I'm fifty,' said Rob: 'so you'll have +to leave off before then. And I won't have the hair-brush box in the +drawer. It doesn't look bad on the top of the bureau; and I want it +where I can get at it easy.' + +"'I'll take it out for you,' said Nelly, 'as often as you want it, +if you're too lazy; but it's going to be in the drawer.'" + +Mr. March laughed heartily. + +"Well, wasn't Nelly right?" he said. "If I recollect right, the box +is a shabby old box, much better out of sight." + +"Oh! of course you'd take Nelly's part," said Mrs. March, half +playfully, half in earnest. + +"Well, which won?" said Mr. March. + +"Oh, Nelly, of course. She always does," replied Mrs. March. + +"I'm glad of it," laughed Mr. March. And there the conversation +dropped. + +The next day Nelly followed her father out to the barn after +breakfast. + +"Papa," said she, "I want to ask you something." + +"What is it, little daughter?" he replied. + +"If I could get four dollars each time I went to Rosita, and should +go twice every week, how much would that be in a year?" said Nelly. + +"Four hundred dollars, my child," replied Mr. March. + +"Is not that a good deal of money?" said Nelly: "wouldn't it buy +almost all we want?" + +"It would buy enough food for us to eat, dear," said Mr. March: "not +much more than that." + +"Well, Rob could get a good deal for trout too," said Nelly, +resolutely: "he's going to fish, next week: and they're forty cents +for one pound; and I'm going to take Rob up with me, the next time, +and show him how to sell things. It is very easy." + +"Do you like it, Nell,--really like it?" said her father. + +"Oh, yes!" replied Nelly; "it's splendid! It's the nicest thing I +ever did. I like to see the people, and to count the money; and then +it is so nice to help too, papa! Oh! you will let us help: won't +you?" + +"Yes, my child, we will let you help us this summer, because we are +really very poor just now; but I hope next year we will not be in +such straits. You and Rob are dear, good children to want to work. +Papa will never forget it." + +Nelly put her hand in her father's, and walked along in silence by +his side for a few minutes. Then suddenly catching sight of Rob in +the field, she exclaimed:-- + +"Oh! there's Rob going down to the creek now to fish. I will go and +tell him it is all settled. I can help him fish. I shall put the +grasshoppers on the hook: I hate it, and I said I'd never do it +again; but now that it's for the money, I shall." And she ran off as +fast as she could, to join Rob. + +All that morning Rob fished and Nelly stuck grasshoppers on the hook +for him. At noon, they were miles away from the house: they had +followed up the creek without noticing how far they were going. + +"Oh, dear!" said Rob, looking up at the sun, "look at that old sun: +he's just galloped all this morning. I think his horses are running +away. Did papa show you that picture of him in the 'Mythology'? It +was a splendid man, in a chariot, standing up, and driving four +horses. They thought the sun was really a man. Say, Nell, let's +don't go home yet." + +"I'm so hungry!" said Nelly, whose share of the amusement was not so +exciting as Rob's. + +"Pshaw!" said Rob: "I wonder what's the reason girls get hungry so +much sooner than boys." + +"They don't," said Nelly, doggedly: "they've got stomachs just +alike. You're as hungry as you can be; only you won't say so. I know +you are." + +Rob did not deny it; in fact, as soon as Nelly had said the word +"hungry," he had begun to feel a dreadful gnawing in the region of +his stomach. + +"I'll tell you, Nell," he exclaimed: "we'll cook a trout on a hot +stone. I know how. Billy did it one day last summer. You just get a +lot of dried sticks and things, and pile them up; and I'll find a +flat stone." + +In a few minutes, they had a big fire, and a large flat stone +standing up in the hottest part of the blaze. + +"There!" said Rob, rubbing his hands: "now you'll see a dinner fit +for a king. We'll have a trout apiece." + +"Good big ones!" said Nelly. "How do you tell when the stone is hot +enough?" + +"Oh! if it burns a stick to hold it on it, it's too hot, and you let +it cool a while," replied Rob, with a patronizing tone; as much as +to say, "Girls did not know much about cooking on hot stones." + +Girls knew more about getting hot stones out of fires, however, +than boys did, in this instance. Poor Rob burnt his fingers badly, +trying to pull the stone out by taking hold of it with a handful of +thick green leaves. + +"Oh, Rob! Rob!" screamed Nelly: "you'll burn you!" + +But it was too late. Rob had grasped the stone with all his usual +impetuosity, and the leaves had shrivelled up instantly, like +cobwebs, the stone was so hot. He let it fall back into the fire, +and danced about, shaking his burnt fingers, and screwing up his +face very hard, to keep from crying. + +"Oh, that was too bad, Rob!" cried Nelly. "Why didn't you let me get +it out?" + +"You get it out!" cried Rob, quite angry; "you get it out! I'd like +to see you! That's the way Billy took his out. There isn't any other +way." + +Nelly had run off a few steps for a big stick. Presently she came +back; and, without saying a word to Rob, put the end of the stick +under the stone, and lifted it up and rolled it over and over, till +she had it entirely out of the ashes and hot brands, and on a +smooth, clean place in the grass. Then she took a little twig, and +held it close to the stone, to see if it were still hot. The twig +smoked. + +"Oh! it's lots too hot," said Rob, meekly. "What made you think of +that way of getting it out, Nell?" + +"I don't know," said Nelly: "your burning your fingers, I guess." + +Then they cut open two nice trout, and Rob scraped them clean with +his knife; and, as soon as the stone was cool enough, they laid them +on the hot stone. Oh, how good they smelled as soon as they began to +cook, and the fat began to ooze out! When the under side was nice +and brown, Rob turned them over with two sticks carefully; and, in a +few minutes more, they were done. Then he stuck a pointed stick +through the biggest one, and handed it very politely to Nelly, +saying:-- + +"Won't you be helped to some fish, Miss Nelly March?" + +Nelly held out two pointed sticks to take it; and then she ran round +and round with it, for a minute, to cool it; and then she took it by +the tail and ate it up in less time than it has taken to write this +page. Rob ate his more slowly. + +"Oh, I wish we had cooked four," said Nelly. + +Rob looked at his basket. It was not much more than half full. + +"I can't fish any more," he said: "my fingers hurt so. Don't let's +eat up any more. We can have a good supper when we get home. Let's +keep all these to sell." + +"Of course we will, Rob," said Nelly, quite ashamed: "I was a pig." + +"Pigs don't eat trout, I guess," said Rob laughing. + +"No," said Nelly; "but they always want more. I was a real pig. Now +let's hurry home. I'm afraid we're a long way off." + +"Well, they know we're fishing," said Rob: "they won't worry. It's +good mamma's got over worrying about my falling into the creek." + + + + +CHAPTER X + +ROB AND NELLY GO INTO BUSINESS + + +They were indeed a long way from home; much farther than they +dreamed. It was past four o'clock when they reached the house, and +Mrs. March had begun to be a little anxious about them. She was much +pleased when she saw the basket of trout. + +"Oh, what a nice supper we will have!" she exclaimed. + +Rob and Nelly looked at each other and at her. + +"Oh, mamma!" Nelly began, but checked herself at once, and looked +again at Rob. + +"Why, what is the matter, children?" said Mrs. March. + +"Nothing. You can have them if you want them," said Rob, rather +forlornly. + +"Why, child, what else did you get them for?" exclaimed their +mother, who had forgotten all about Rob's plan of selling trout. + +"To sell," said Rob. "There's as many as four pounds there, I guess: +that's most two dollars; but you can have them. I don't care. I'll +go get some more to-morrow, if my hand's well." + +"Oh!" said Mrs. March, "I had forgotten about it. So you mean to be +a little fish-merchant, do you?" + +"Yes. Nelly's an egg-merchant, an egg and butter merchant; and I'm +going to be a fish and fruit merchant; and we're going to take care +of you and papa that way," said Rob, in an excited tone. "And I was +going to begin to-morrow; but I can begin next day, just as well: +let's have these for supper; they're splendid; we've cooked two +already." + +The tears came into Mrs. March's eyes. + +"We'll ask papa, and see what he says," she said. "If we're really +going to be merchants, we mustn't eat up all our goods: that's +certain. But what fruits do you propose to deal in, Mr. March? +Fruits seem to me rather scarce in this valley." + +"Oh! strawberries, next month," said Rob; "and then raspberries, and +then wild currants, and then wild grapes. There are lots and lots of +them on the creek, you know. And we can get carried up to Mr. +Pine's, and pick berries up above his ranch. He said we might have +all we could pick." + +When they asked Mr. March about the trout, he laughed, and said:-- + +"I think we must take a vote of all the partners. This family is a +partnership now; the 'March firm' we must call ourselves; four +partners, all working to make money for the firm: now let's vote. +All that are in favor of eating the trout for supper, hold up their +right hand." + +Nobody's hand went up but Rob's. + +"Three against you, Rob," said his father: "you'll have to go +without your trout this time. It is voted by a majority of the firm +that the trout be sold." + +"I didn't want"--Rob began, but checked himself, and looked at his +mother. She nodded and smiled, but said nothing. A little while +afterward, when she found Rob alone, she put her arms around him, +and kissed him, and said:-- + +"I understood about the trout, Rob. You thought I wanted some for my +supper: didn't you?" + +"Yes, mamma," said Rob: "that was it. I didn't care so much about +them; but it seemed awful mean to keep you from having them. Nelly +and I have each had one; they were splendid. Next time I'll just +catch one basketful to sell, and one to eat." + +The next day, Rob and Nelly set off together at six o'clock for +Rosita: Rob with his trout, and Nelly with eggs and butter. They +stopped a minute to speak to Lucinda and Billy, as they passed their +house. Billy was not there. He had gone to work for Mr. Pine, +Lucinda said, and would not be at home for a week. + +"You like it: don't you, Nelly?" she said. + +"Yes, indeed!" said Nelly: "I think it's fun. And the people are all +so kind: that Swede woman kissed me because I look so much like her +little girl. I am going there again to-day. They keep boarders, you +know; and she wants eggs every time I come, she said. I thought +perhaps they'd take Rob's trout too." + +"Oh, no! they won't," said Lucinda. "Trout is too dear eatin' for +such boarders 's they keep. You take the trout right up to Miss +Clapp's. She'll take 'em all, an' as many more 's you can ketch." + +By the middle of the afternoon, the children were at Lucinda's door +again. They both ran in shouting:-- + +"Lucinda! Lucinda! we've sold every thing; and we've got five +dollars and seventy-five cents! Now what do you say? Won't mamma be +glad? Couldn't anybody get very rich this way, if they only kept on? +Isn't it splendid?" + +"You dear little innocent lambs," said Lucinda: "it's much you know +about gettin' rich, or bein' poor." + +"Why, we are poor now; very, very poor: papa said so," interrupted +Nelly. "That's the reason he lets us sell things." + +"Oh, well! your pa don't know nothin' about bein' real poor," said +Lucinda: "and I don't suppose he ever will; but it's a good thing +you're a bringin' in somethin' this year. It's a dreadful year on +everybody." + +"Yes; papa said we were a real help," said Nelly: "he said so last +night." + +"Luce," exclaimed Rob, "what do you think Jan is going to make for +us? He's taken the measure of us to-day; he showed us a picture of a +man and a woman with them on. They're real nice to carry things +with: you don't feel the weight a bit, he says. In his country, +everybody wears them on their shoulders,--everybody that has any +thing heavy to carry. They're something like our ox-yoke,--only with +a straight piece, that comes out; and we can hang a basket on each +end, and run along just as if we weren't carrying any thing. They're +real nice folks, Jan and his wife. They're the nicest folks in +Rosita." + +"Oh! not so nice as Mrs. Clapp, Rob," said Nelly. + +"Yes, they are too; lots nicer. They don't speak so fine and +mincing: but I like them lots better; they're some fun. And Luce," +he continued, "they've got a picture-book full of pictures of the +way people dress in their country; and they let us look at it. It +was splendid. And Ulrica she keeps taking hold of Nelly's hair, and +lifting up the braids and looking at them, and talking to Jan in her +own language." + +"It makes her cry, though," said Nelly. "I wish she wouldn't." + +"But what is this Jan is going to make you?" asked Lucinda: "a real +yoke, such as I've seen the men wear to bring up two water-buckets +to once? I don't believe your pa and ma'll let you wear it." + +"Why not?" said Nelly: "does it look awful on your shoulders?" + +"Well, you know how the ox-yoke looks on old Starbuckle and Jim," +said Rob. "It's a good deal like that: I saw one in the +picture-book." + +"But we're not going to be yoked together," said Nelly. "It can't +look like that." + +"No, no," said Lucinda, "not a bit. They're real handy things. Lots +o' the men have them, to carry water-buckets up the hill with in +Rosita. They just make 'em out of a bent sapling, with two hooks at +each end. You'll find them a heap o' help." + +"Then I shall wear it, no matter how it looks," said Nelly, +resolutely. + +"We needn't wear them in the streets," said Rob: "we can take them +off just outside the town, and hide them among the trees." + +"Now, Rob," exclaimed Nelly, "I'd be ashamed to do that! That would +look as if we were too proud to be seen in them. I shall wear mine +into all the houses." + +"Wait till you see how it feels, Nelly," said Lucinda. "Perhaps you +won't like it so well's you think." + +When Nelly and Rob told their father and mother about the +shoulder-yokes that the Swede Jan was going to make for them, both +Mr. and Mrs. March laughed heartily. + +"Upon my word," said Mr. March, "you are going to look like little +merchants in good earnest: aren't you?" + +"Don't you suppose they will hurt your shoulders?" asked Mrs. March. + +"Ulrica said they didn't," replied Nelly. "She said she had worn one +a great deal. She puts a little cushion under the place where they +come on your neck. She says we can carry twice as much on those as +we can in our hands." + +It was arranged now that Rob and Nelly should, for the present, go +up to Rosita twice a week, on Tuesdays and Fridays. Mr. March +reckoned that they would be able to spare butter and eggs enough to +bring them five or six dollars each week. The money from the trout +they did not allow themselves to count on, because it would be +uncertain; but Rob made most magnificent calculations from it. "Four +dollars a week, at least," he said; "and that will be one way to pay +off those old grasshoppers. I'll make a good many of them work for +us: see if I don't!" + +The next time Rob and Nelly went to Rosita, when they bade their +mother good-by, they said:-- + +"Be on the lookout for us, mamma, this afternoon. You'll see us +coming down the road with our yokes on." + +So Mrs. March began to watch, about three o'clock; and, sure enough, +about four, there she saw them coming down the lane which led from +the main road to their house. They were coming very fast, at a sort +of hop-skip-and-jump pace, but keeping step with each other exactly. +A sort of slender pole seemed to be growing out of each shoulder; +from this hung slender rods, and on the end of each rod was fastened +a basket or a pail, Rob's yoke had two pails; Nelly's had two +baskets. As the children ran, they took hold of the rods with their +hands, just above the baskets and pails. This steadied them, and +also seemed to be a sort of support in walking. As soon as the +children saw their mother, they quickened their steps, and came into +the yard breathless. + +"Oh, they are splendid!" + +"Why, they're just as light as any thing!" + +"They don't hurt your neck a bit!" + +"See the nice baskets Ulrica gave us! Jan made them himself out of +willows," shouted they, both talking at once, and each out of +breath. Then Nelly slipped off her yoke, and, before her mother knew +what she was about, had tried to put it on her shoulders; but her +mother was too tall: Nelly could not reach up. + +"Oh! do try it on, mamma," she said: "just to see how nice it is." + +Mrs. March tried; but the yoke had been carefully adjusted to +Nelly's slender little figure, and Mrs. March could not put it on. + +"Well, if you only could, mamma, you'd see how easy it is," said +Nelly, slipping it on her shoulders again, and racing down to the +gate to meet her father, who was just coming in. + +Mr. March stopped short, and stared at Nelly for a minute. + +"Why, Nell," he said, "I did not know what you were. I thought you +were some new kind of animal, with horns growing out lengthwise from +your shoulders." + +"So we are! so we are!" shouted Rob, running up so fast that the +pails on the rods of his yoke swung back and forth high up in the +air. "We are the four-armed boy and girl of Rosita. They'll want us +for a show. Four arms on a boy are as wonderful as two heads on a +calf." + +How Mr. March did laugh! The children's fun was contagious. He +seized Rob's yoke, and tried to put it on his own shoulders; but it +was as much too small for him as Nelly's had been for her mother. +Then he sat down on the fence, and examined the yokes carefully. +They were beautifully made out of very slender young aspen-trees, +which could be easily bent into place. The wood was almost white, +and shone like satin: Jan had rubbed it so long. + +"He says when the white gets dirty he will paint them for us," said +Nelly: "all bright colors, as they have them in Sweden. But while +they keep clean they are prettier white." + +Ulrica had put a soft cushion of red cloth at the place where the +yoke rested on the neck behind; also, on each rod just where the +hands grasped them. Mrs. March examined them carefully. + +"This is beautiful cloth," she said: "I wonder where the woman got +it." + +"Oh! she has a big roll of it in a chest," said Nelly. "I saw it; +and a big piece of beautiful blue, too. It was made in Sweden, she +says; and she has a queer gown, which was her little girl's that is +dead, all made of this red and blue cloth, with--oh!--millions of +little silver buttons sewed on it, all down the front. She wanted me +to try it on; but I did not like to. It was too small, too: not too +short; I think it would have come down to my feet. Do little girls +in Sweden wear long gowns, like grown-up ladies, mamma?" + +"I don't know, dear," said Mrs. March. + +"She has some of the little girl's hair in the same chest; and she +took it out and held it close to mine." + +"Yes," said Rob: "I didn't want her to. How did we know she was +clean?" + +"Oh, for shame, Rob!" cried Nelly: "they're all as clean as pins; +you know they are. But I didn't like her to do it, because it made +her cry." + +After supper they had a great time deciding where to keep the yokes. +Rob wanted them hung up on the wall. + +"They look just as pretty as the antlers old Mr. Pine has upon the +wall in his house," said Rob; "and we can't ever have any antlers, +unless we shoot a deer ourselves. Mr. Pine said a man offered him +fifty dollars for them; but he wouldn't take it. I think our yokes +look just about as pretty." + +"Oh, Rob!" exclaimed Nelly, "how can you talk so? They are not +pretty a bit; and you know it!" + +"I don't either!" said Rob: "I do think they're pretty; honest, I +do." + +While they spoke, Mrs. March was hanging one of the yokes on the +wall, by a bit of bright red tape, tied in the middle. She hung it +quite low, between the door and the south window. Then she hung +Nelly's sun-bonnet on the nail above it, and Nelly's little red +shawl over one end of the yoke. + +"There," she said, "you are right, Rob. It makes quite a pretty +hat-rack." + +"So it does," said Mr. March. "Now we'll put the other one up the +other side the door; and that shall be Rob's, to hang his coat and +jacket on." + +"My jacket isn't pretty, though, like Nell's shawl," said Rob, +wistfully. "Why don't men wear red jackets in this country? In that +book of Jan's ever so many of the men have red jackets on, with +silver buttons; and they're splendid. Jan has one too in the chest; +but he doesn't wear it here, because it would make the folks laugh, +he says: it is so different from other clothes here. He put it on +for us while Ulrica was showing Nelly the little girl's gown. It did +look queer; it came down most to his knees, and had great flaps on +the side, and big silver buttons on the front, as big as dollars. +But it was splendid: a great deal handsomer than the uniform the +Mayfield guards wore." + +When Billy came home from Mr. Pike's, Lucinda told him about the +yokes which Jan had made for the children to wear, to carry their +baskets and pails on. Billy listened with a disturbed face. + +"Miss March'll never let 'em wear 'em: will she?" + +"I donno," said Lucinda: "Miss March's got heaps of sense; an' the +children was jest tickled to death with them. They come racin' down +the hill with 'em on, 's proud as militia-men on trainin'-day. But +how 'twill be about wearin' 'em round town I donno." + +"It'll never do in the world," said Billy. "The boys 'll all follow +'em, and hoot and halloo; and Rob 'll be fightin' right an' left, +the fust thing you know. It's a bad business, bad business. I donno +what put it into that pesky Swede's head, anyhow." + +"Oh! jest to help the children," said Lucinda. "From what the +children say, Jan an' his wife both seem to have kind o' adopted +'em. You know how she takes on over Nelly, 'cause she looks so like +her own little gal." + +"I know it," said Billy. "Blamed if I don't wish I hadn't taken 'em +there. You'll see they can't wear the things in Rosita." + +This time Billy was right. He had been mistaken in thinking that the +miners would treat Nelly roughly; but he was right now about the +boys. The next time Nelly and Rob went up to Rosita, they entered +the town a little before nine o'clock: it was just the time when all +the children were on their way to school. As soon as Rob and Nelly +appeared with their little yokes on their shoulders, and a basket +and pail swinging from each rod, the boys on the street set up a +loud shout, and all rushed towards them. + +"Hullo, bub! what kind o' harness 've you got on?" + +"Did your pa cut down his ox-yoke to fit ye?" + +"Oh, my! look at the gal wearin' one too," they cried; and some of +the rudest of the boys pressed up close, and tried to take off the +covers of the baskets and pails. In less than a second, Rob had +slipped his yoke off his shoulders, and thrown it on the ground, +baskets and all; and sprung in front of Nelly, doubling up his +fists, and pushing the boys back, crying:-- + +"You let us alone, now: you'd better!" + +"Hush! hush! Rob," said Nelly, who was quite white with terror. +"Come right into this store: the gentleman that keeps the store +won't let them touch us." + +And Nelly slipped into the store, and as quick as lightning took off +her yoke and put it on the floor; and, saying to the astonished +storekeeper, "Please let my things stay there a minute; the boys +are tormenting my brother," she ran back into the centre of the +crowd, snatched up both Rob's baskets of trout, and, pushing Rob +before her, came back into the store. The crowd of boys followed on, +and were coming up the store steps; but the storekeeper ordered them +back. + +"Go away!" he said: "you ought to be ashamed of yourselves, +tormenting these children so. I'd like to thrash every one of you! +Go away!" + +The boys shrank away, ashamed; and the storekeeper went up to Nelly, +who was sitting down on a nail-keg, trembling with excitement. + +"What is this thing, anyhow?" said he, taking up the yoke. "Oh, I +see,--to carry your pails on." + +"Yes, sir," said Nelly; "and it's a great help. We have to walk so +far the baskets feel real heavy before we get here. Jan, the Swede +man, made them for us. It is too bad the boys won't let us wear +them." + +"Are you Mr. March's little girl?" said the shopkeeper. + +"Yes," said Nelly; "and that's my brother," pointing to Rob, who was +still standing on the steps, shaking his fists at the retreating +boys and calling after them. + +"He'd better let 'em alone," said the shopkeeper. "The more notice +ye take of 'em, the more they'll pester ye. But I reckon ye can't +wear the yokes any more; I wouldn't if I was you. You tell your +father that Mr. Martin told ye to leave 'em off. Ye can leave 'em +here, if ye're a mind to. Some time when your father's a drivin' in +he can stop and get 'em." + +"Yes," said Nelly: "I hadn't any thought of wearing them again. All +I wanted was to get in here and be safe, so they shouldn't break my +eggs: I've got four dozen eggs in one pail. I think it is real cruel +in the boys to plague us so." And Nelly began to cry. + +"There, there, don't ye cry about it; 'tain't any use. Here's a +stick of candy for ye," said the kind-hearted Mr. Martin. "The +Rosita boys are a terrible rough set." + +"We might take care not to get into town till after they're in +school," said Nelly, taking the candy and breaking it in two, and +handing half of it to Rob. "Thank you for the candy, sir. I'm sorry +I cried: I guess it was because I was so frightened. Oh! there's +Ulrica now!" And she ran to the door, and called, "Ulrica! Ulrica!" + +Ulrica came running as fast as possible, soon as she heard Nelly's +voice. She looked surprised enough when she saw the two yokes lying +on the floor, and Nelly's face all wet with tears, and Rob's +deep-red with anger. When Nelly told her what the matter was, she +said some very loud words in Swedish, which I am much afraid were +oaths. Then she turned to Mr. Martin, and said:-- + +"Now, is not that shame--that two children like this will not be to +be let alone in these the streets? I carry the yokes myself. Come to +mine house." + +So saying, Ulrica lifted both the yokes up on her strong shoulders, +and, taking Nelly's biggest pail in one hand, strode away with long +steps. + +"Come on mit me," she said; "come straight. I like to see the boy +that shall dare you touch." And as she passed the boys, who had +gathered sullenly in a little knot on the sidewalk, she shook her +head at them, and began to say something to them in her broken +English; but, finding the English come too slow, she broke into +Swedish, and talked louder and faster. But the boys only laughed at +her, and cried:-- + +"Go it, old Swedy!" + +"Oh, Ulrica, don't let's speak to them," whispered Nelly. "Be quiet, +Rob!" And she dragged Rob along with a firm hand. + +"Now I goes mit you to the houses mineself," said Ulrica. "It shall +be no more that the good-for-nothings have room that to you they one +word speak." + +So Ulrica put on her best gown, and a clean white handkerchief over +her head, and her Sunday shoes, which had soles almost two inches +thick; then she took one of the baskets and one of the pails, and, +giving the others to Nelly and Rob, she set off with them to walk up +to Mrs. Clapp's, where the butter and trout were to be left. Mrs. +Clapp was astonished to see Ulrica with the children. Ulrica tried +to tell her the story of the yokes; but Mrs. Clapp could not +understand Ulrica's English, and Nelly had to finish the story. + +"It was too bad," said Mrs. Clapp: "but my advice to you is, to give +up the yokes. It would never be quite safe for you to wear them +here: the boys in this town are a pretty lawless set." + +"Oh, no, ma'am!" replied Nelly, "I haven't the least idea of wearing +them again. It would be very silly. But it is a dreadful pity: they +did help so much, and Jan took so much trouble to make them for us." + +Rob hardly spoke. He was boiling over with rage and mortification. + +"I say, Nell," he began, as soon as they got outside Mrs. Clapp's +gate: "you might have let me thrash that boy that spoke last, the +one that called out at you. I'll die if I don't do something to him. +And I'm going to wear my yoke: so there! They may's well get used to +it. I'll never give up this way!" + +"You'll have to, Rob," answered Nelly. "I hate it as much as you do; +but there's no use going against boys,--that is, such boys as these. +The Mayfield boys 'd never do so. They'd run and stare, perhaps: I +expected any boys would stare at our yokes; but they'd never hoot +and halloo, and scare you so. We'll have to give the yokes up, Rob." + +"I won't," said Rob. "I'm going to wear mine home, and ask papa. I +know he'll say not to give up." + +"No, he won't, Rob," persisted Nelly. "I shall tell him what the +kind shopkeeper said, and Mrs. Clapp too. You might know better +yourself than to go against them all. They know better than we do." + +"I don't care," said Rob. "It's none of their business. I shall wear +my yoke if I've a mind to. At any rate, I'll wear it once more, just +to show them." + +"Papa won't let you," said Nelly, quietly, with a tone so earnest +and full of certainty that it made Rob afraid she might be right. + +When Mrs. March saw the children coming home without their yokes, +she wondered what could have happened. But almost before she had +opened her lips to ask, Rob and Nelly both began to tell the story +of their adventures. + +"Gently! gently! one at a time," cried Mrs. March; but it was +impossible for the children to obey her, they were both so excited. +At last Mrs. March said:-- + +"Rob, let Nelly speak first: ladies before gentlemen, always." And +the impatient Rob reluctantly kept silent while Nelly told the tale. + +Mrs. March's face grew sad as the story went on. It was a terrible +thing to her to think of her little daughter attacked in the street +in that way by rude boys. + +"Now, oughtn't I to have thrashed them, mamma?" cried Rob, +encouraged by the indignation in his mother's face: "oughtn't I to? +But Nell she just pulled me into the store by main force; and I felt +so mean. I felt as if I looked just like Trotter when he puts his +tail between his legs and runs away from a big dog. I don't care: +I'll thrash that ugly black-eyed boy yet,--the one that spoke to +Nelly; sha'n't I, mamma? Wouldn't you? I know you would! And mayn't +I wear the yoke again, just to show them I ain't afraid?" + +"Keep cool, Rob," said Mrs. March; "keep cool!" + +"I can't keep cool, mamma," said Rob, almost crying; "and you +couldn't, either,--you know you couldn't!" + +"Perhaps not, dear; but I'd try," replied his mother. "Nothing else +does any good ever." + +"Well, mayn't I wear the yoke, anyhow?" said Rob. "I won't go into +Rosita ever again unless I can!" + +"Rob," said his mother, earnestly, "if you were going across a field +where there was a bull, you wouldn't wear a red cloak: would you? It +would be very silly, wouldn't it?" + +"Yes," said Rob, slowly and very reluctantly. He saw what his mother +meant. + +"That's just what I said," interrupted Nelly: "I said it would be +very silly to wear them any more. The boys would never let us alone +if we did." + +"Nelly is right," said Mrs. March: "it would be just as silly to +carry a piece of red cloth and flourish it in the eyes of the bull, +when you know that the sight of red cloth always makes bulls angry." + +"I don't care if it does make them all set on me," said Rob: "after +I've thrashed them once, they'll let me alone. Anyhow, I won't go +unless I can wear it; I know that much: I'd feel like a sneak." + +"Of course you'll do as you like about that, my dear boy," replied +Mrs. March: "you never need go up to Rosita, if you would rather +not. You know it was all your own plan, yours and Nelly's, going up +there to sell things. Your papa and I would never have thought of +it." + +"Well," said Rob, half crying, "but there's all the money I make: +we'd lose all that, if I don't go. Nell couldn't carry the trout +besides all the butter and eggs." + +"I know it," replied his mother; "but that isn't any reason for your +doing what you feel would make you seem like a sneak. We wouldn't +have you feel like that for any thing." + +Poor Rob was very unhappy. He didn't see any way out of his dilemma. +He wished he hadn't said he would not go up into Rosita without his +yoke. + +"Anyhow, I'll ask papa," he said. + +"Yes," replied his mother, "of course you will talk it all over with +him; and perhaps you'll feel differently about it after that. Let it +all go now, and try to forget it." + +"I'm not going to think any more about it," said Nelly. "I don't +care for those boys: they're too rude for any thing. I sha'n't ever +look at one of them; but you wouldn't catch me wearing that yoke +again, I tell you!" + +"That's because you're a girl," said Rob. "If you were a boy, you'd +feel just exactly as I do. Oh, goodness! don't I wish you had been a +boy, Nell? If you had, we two together could thrash that whole crowd +quicker'n wink!" + +"I shouldn't fight, if I were a boy," said Nelly: "I think it is +beneath a boy to fight. It's just like dogs and cats: they fight +with their teeth and claws; and boys fight with their fists." + +"Teeth, too," said Rob, grimly. + +"Do they?" cried Nelly, in a tone of horror. "Do they really? Oh, +Rob! did you ever bite a boy?" + +"Not many times," said Rob; "but sometimes you have to." + +"Well, I'm glad I'm not a boy," said Nelly: "that's all I've got to +say. The idea of biting!" + +To Mrs. March's great surprise, she found, when she talked the +affair over with her husband, that he was inclined to sympathize +with Rob's feeling. + +"I don't like to have the boy give it up," said Mr. March. "You +don't know boys as well as I do, Sarah. They'll taunt him every time +he goes through the street. I half wish Nelly hadn't hindered him +from giving one of them a good, sound thrashing. He could do it." + +"Why, Robert!" exclaimed Mrs. March-"you don't mean to tell me that +you would be willing to have your son engage in a street fight?" + +"Well, no," laughed Mr. March: "not exactly that; but there might be +circumstances under which I should knock a man down: if he insulted +you, for instance; and there might come times in a boy's life when I +should think it praiseworthy in him to give another boy a thrashing, +and I think this was one of them." + +"Well, for mercy's sake, don't tell Rob so," said Mrs. March: "he's +hot-headed enough now; and, if he had a free permission beforehand +from you to knock boys down, I don't know where he'd stop." + +While Mr. and Mrs. March were talking, Billy came in. He had heard +the story of the morning's adventures from a teamster who had been +on the street when it happened; and Billy had walked all the way in +from Pine's ranch, to--as he said in his clumsy, affectionate +way--"see ef I couldn't talk the youngsters out of their notion +about them yokes." + +"'Tain't no use," he said: "an' ye won't find a man on the street +but'll tell ye the same thing. 'Tain't no use flyin' in the face o' +natur' with boys; and the Rosita boys, I will say for 'em, is the +worst I ever did see. Their fathers is away from hum all the time, +and wimmen hain't much hold on boys after they get to be long from +twelve an' up'ards; an' the schools in Rosita ain't no great things, +either. 'S soon's I heard about them yokes, I told Luce the +children couldn't never wear 'em: the boys 'n the street'd plague +their lives out on 'em. I don't know as I blame 'em so much, +either,--though they might be decent enough to let a little gal +alone; but them yokes is awful cur'us-lookin' things. I never see a +man a haulin' water with 'em, without laughin': they make a man look +like a doubled-up kind o' critter, with more arms 'n he's any right +to. You can't deny yourself, sir, thet they're queer-lookin'. Why, +I've seen horses scare at 'em lots o' times." + +Billy's conversation produced a strong impression on Mr. March's +mind. Almost as reluctantly as Rob himself, he admitted that it was +the part of wisdom to give up the yokes. + +"It's no giving up for Nelly," said Mrs. March: "she said herself +that nothing would induce her to wear it in again." + +"And I think Rob would better not go in for a little while, till the +boys have forgotten it," said Mrs. March. + +"And not at all, unless he himself proposes it," added Mr. March. "I +have never wholly liked the plan, much as we have been helped by the +money." + +"I've got an idee in my head," said Billy, "thet I think'll help 'em +more 'n the yokes,--a sight more. I mean to make 'em a little light +wagon. Don't tell 'em any thing about it, because it'll take me some +little time yet. I've got to stay up to Pine's a week longer; an' I +can't work on't there. But I'll have it ready in two weeks or three +to the farthest." + +"Thank you, Billy," said Mr. March: "that is very kind of you. And a +wagon will be much better than the yokes were: it will save them +fatigue almost as much, and not attract any attention at all. You +were very good to think of it." + +"Nothin' good about me," said Billy, gruffly: "never was. But I do +think a heap o' your youngsters, specially Nelly, Mr. March. It +seems to me the Lord don't often send just sech a gal's Nelly is." + +"I think so too, Billy," replied Mr. March. "I have never seen a +child like Nelly. I'm afraid sometimes we shall spoil her." + +"No danger! no danger!" said Billy: "she ain't the kind that +spoils." + +"Now, you be sure an' not let on about the wagon: won't you, sir," +he added, looking back over his shoulder, as he walked away fast on +his great long legs, which looked almost like stilts, they were so +long. + +"Oh, yes! you may trust me, Billy," called Mr. March. "I won't tell. +Good-by!" + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +HOW TO FIND A SILVER MINE + + +When Nelly set off on her next trip to Rosita, she felt a little sad +and a little afraid. It had been decided that it would not be best +for Rob to go at present, even if he had wished to; that it would be +better to wait until the boys had forgotten the fight about the +yokes before he was seen in town again. Rob walked with Nelly as far +as Billy's cabin. Here they waited awhile for Nelly to rest, and to +make sure that she did not get into town till nine o'clock, after +the boys were all safe inside the school-house. In the bottom of her +heart, Nelly was really afraid of seeing them again. She would not +own, even to herself, that she felt fear; but she could not help +wondering all the time what the boys would do,--if they would say +any thing when they saw her walking along all alone, and without her +yoke on her shoulders. Rob was to spend the day with Lucinda, and be +ready to walk home with her in the afternoon. He too felt very +uncomfortable about being left behind; and there were two sad little +faces which looked wistfully into each other, as the good-bys were +being said. + +"I'll come part way and meet you," said Rob. "It's too mean!" + +"No, don't!" said Nelly: "the sun will be so hot; and perhaps I +sha'n't come till late. Good-by!" + +Nelly wore on her head a man's hat, with a brim so broad you could +hardly see her face at all. She had had to wear this ever since the +summer weather began: the sun is so hot in Colorado that no one can +bear it on his head or face in the summer. On Nelly's arm swung her +neat white sun-bonnet, tied by its strings, and pinned up in paper. +When she reached the last hill before entering the town, she always +took off her hat, and hid it in a hollow place she had found in the +root of a great pine-tree; then she wore her sun-bonnet into town, +and people sometimes said to her:-- + +"Why, Nelly, how do you keep your sun-bonnet so clean, after this +long, dusty walk?" + +But Nelly never told her secret. She was afraid some boy might hear +it, and go and find the hiding-place of her hat. + +There wasn't a boy to be seen when Nelly entered the town this +morning. How relieved her heart was you can imagine. She just drew a +long breath, and said to herself, "Oh! but I'm thankful. Poor Rob! +he might as well have come as not." + +Then she ran on to Ulrica's house. Ulrica was very busy ironing some +fine white clothes for a young lady who was visiting in Rosita: +Ulrica was the only nice washerwoman in the town. Nelly stood by the +ironing-board, watching Ulrica flute the pretty lace ruffles. +Presently she sighed, and said:-- + +"Mamma has ever so many pretty things like these put away in a +trunk. I used to wear such ruffles on my aprons and in my neck every +day at home. But mamma does all our washing now, and it is too much +trouble to iron them. So we don't wear them any more." + +"Ah, the dear child!" exclaimed Ulrica. "Bring to Ulrica: she will +them do; it are not trouble; look how quick can fly the scissors." +And in five minutes she had fluted the whole of one neck-ruffle. + +"Oh! would you really, Ulrica?" said Nelly. "We could pay you in +eggs." + +"Pay! pay!" said Ulrica, angrily: "who did say to be paid? No pay! +no pay! Ulrica will do for you: not'ing pay. You are mine child." + +"I'm afraid mamma would not like to have you do them without pay," +said Nelly. "She would not think it was right to take your time." + +"It is not'ing; it is not time: bring them to Ulrica," was all +Ulrica would say. And Nelly ran on, resolving to ask her mother, +that very night, for some of the old ruffles she used to wear in the +necks of her gowns. After she had left the butter and eggs for Mrs. +Clapp, and had sold the rest of her eggs at another house near by, +she walked slowly down the hill past the hotel. Just below the hotel +was a little one-story wooden building, which had a sign up over the +door-- + + "WILHELM KLEESMAN, + "ASSAYER." + +While the Marches were staying at the hotel, Nelly had often seen +old Mr. Kleesman sitting on the steps of his little house, and +smoking a big brown pipe. The bowl of the pipe had carved on it a +man's head, with a long, flowing beard. Mr. Kleesman himself had a +long, flowing beard, as white as snow, and his face did not look +unlike the face on the pipe; and the first time Rob saw him smoking, +he had run to call Nelly, saying:-- + +"Come here, Nell! come quick! There's a man out there smoking, with +his own portrait on his pipe." + +Mr. March had explained to Nelly and Rob that "Assayer" meant a man +who could take a stone and find out whether there were really any +silver and gold in it or not. This seemed very wonderful to the +children; and, as they looked at the old gentleman sitting on his +door-step every evening, smoking, they thought he looked like a +magician, or like Aladdin who had the wonderful lamp. Rob said he +meant to go and show him some of his stones, and see if there were +not silver in some of them; but his father told him that it took a +great deal of time and trouble to find out whether a stone had +silver in it or not, and that everybody who had it done had to pay +Mr. Kleesman three dollars for doing it. + +"Whew!" said Rob: "supposing there shouldn't be any silver at all in +their stone, what then?" + +"They have to pay three dollars all the same," said his father; "and +it is much cheaper to find out that way, than it is to go on digging +and digging, and spending time and money getting stones out of the +earth which are not good for any thing." + +After that, Rob and Nelly used to watch the faces of all the men +they saw coming out of Mr. Kleesman's office, and try to guess +whether their stones had turned out good or not. If the man looked +sad and disappointed, Nelly would say:-- + +"Oh, see that poor man: his hasn't turned out good, I know." + +And, whenever some one came out with a quick step and a smiling +face, Rob would say:-- + +"Look! look! Nell. That man's got silver. He's got it: I know he +has." + +As Nelly walked by Mr. Kleesman's house this morning, she saw lying +on the ground a queer little round cup. It was about half as big as +a small, old-fashioned teacup; it was made of a rough sort of clay, +like that which flower-pots are made of; the outside was white, and +the inside was all smooth and shining, and of a most beautiful green +color. + +"Oh, what a pretty little cup!" thought Nelly, picking it up, and +looking at it closely. "I wonder how it came here! Somebody must +have lost it; some little girl, I guess. How sorry she will be!" + +At that minute, old Mr. Kleesman came to his door. When he saw Nelly +looking at the cup, he called out to her:-- + +"Vould you like more as dat? I haf plenty; dey iss goot for little +girls." + +Mr. Kleesman was a German, and spoke very broken English. + +Nelly looked up at him, and said:-- + +"Thank you, sir. I should like some more very much. They are cunning +little cups. I thought somebody had lost this one." + +Mr. Kleesman laughed, and stroked his long, white beard with his +hand. + +"Ach! I throw dem away each day. Little girls come often to mine +room for dem: I have vary goot customers in little girls. Come in! +come in! you shall have so many that you want." And he led Nelly +into a small back room, where, in a corner on the floor, was a great +pile of these little cups: some broken ones; some, like the one +Nelly had, green on the inside; some brown, some yellow, some +dark-red. Nelly was delighted. She knelt down on the floor, and +began to look over the pile. + +"May I really have all I want?" she said. "Are they not of any use?" + +"Only to little girls," said Mr. Kleesman: "sometimes to a boy; but +not often a boy; mostly it is for little girls; they are my goot +customers." + +Nelly picked out six. She did not like to take more, though she +would have liked the whole pile. Mr. Kleesman stood watching her. + +"Vy not you take more as dem?" he said. + +"I am afraid there will not be enough for the other little girls," +replied Nelly. + +Mr. Kleesman laughed and shook till his white beard went up and +down. + +"Look you here," he said, and pointed behind the door. There was +another pile, twice as big as the one which Nelly was examining. + +"Oh, my!" said Nelly: "what a lot! I'll take a few more, I guess." + +"I gif you myself. You haf too modest," said the old gentleman. And +he picked up two big handfuls of the cups, and threw them into +Nelly's basket. Then he sprang to a big brick stove which there was +in the room, and opened its iron door and looked in. A fiery heat +filled the room, as he opened the door. + +"Oh!" said Nelly, "I wondered what made it so hot in here. Why do +you have a fire in such hot weather?" she said. + +"To make mine assays," replied Mr. Kleesman. "I haf made three +to-day already. I shall make three more. I haf big fire all day. You +can look in if you like. Do you like?" + +"Very much," said Nelly. Mr. Kleesman lifted her up on a block of +wood, so that her face came directly opposite the door into the +furnace. Then he gave her a piece of wood shaped like a shovel, with +two round holes in it. He told her to hold this up in front of her +face, so to keep off the heat, and then to look through the two +holes into the furnace. Nelly did so; and, as soon as she looked +into the fiery furnace, she gave a little scream. The fire was one +mass of glowing red coals. In the centre, on a stand, stood three +little cups, the same size as those she had. In these cups was +something which was red hot, and bubbling in little bubbles. + +"Oh! what is it in the cups?" she cried. + +"Silver ore," replied Mr. Kleesman. "It have to be burnt and burnt +wiz fire before I can tell if it are good. It are done now. I take +out." Then with a long pair of tongs he took out one cup after +another, and set them all on an iron block on the table. + +Nelly stood on tiptoe, and looked into the little cups. The fiery +red color died away very quickly; and there, in the bottom of each +cup, was a tiny, little round speck of silver. One was as big as the +head of a common-sized pin, and one was a little smaller, and the +third one was so small you could but just see it. In fact, if it had +been loose on the floor or on a table, you would not have noticed it +at all. + +"That is not good for any t'ing," said Mr. Kleesman, pointing to +this small one. "I tell the man ven he bring his ore, I think it are +no good." + +Nelly did not speak; but her face was so full of eager curiosity +that Mr. Kleesman said:-- + +"Now I show you how I tell how much silver there will be in each ton +of the ore." + +Then he went into the front room, and Nelly followed him. On a table +in the window stood a long box; its sides and top were made of +glass, set in narrow wooden frames. In this box was a beautiful +little pair of brass scales; and in one of these scales was a tiny +silver button. One side of this glass box drew up like a sliding +door. Mr. Kleesman set his little cups down very carefully on the +table; then he sat down in a chair opposite the glass box, and told +Nelly to come and stand close to him. + +"Now I weigh," he said, and pulled up the sliding side of the glass +box; then with a very fine pair of pincers he took up one of the +little buttons which had come out of the furnace, and laid it in the +empty scale. + +"See which are the heaviest," he said to Nelly. + +Nelly strained her eyes; but she could hardly see that one scale was +heavier than the other. + +"They are alike," said Nelly. + +Mr. Kleesman laughed. + +"Ah, no! but they are not," he said. "Look! here it is written." And +he pointed to a little needle which was fastened on the upright bar +from which the scales swung. This needle was balanced so that the +very smallest possible weight would make it move one way or the +other, and point to figures printed on a scale behind it,--just as +you have seen figures on the scales the cooks weigh sugar and butter +on in the kitchen. Mr. Kleesman took off the glasses he was wearing, +and put on another pair. "These are my best eyes," he said, "to read +the small figures with." Then he peered a few minutes at the needle; +then he shut down the glass slide, and watched it through the glass. + +"Even my breath would make that it did not swing true," he said. + +Presently he pushed up the slide, and took out the little button +with his pincers, and put it up on a bar above the scales, where +there were as many as a dozen more of the little buttons, all +arranged in a row,--some larger, some smaller. Then he wrote a few +words in a little book. + +"There," he said, "I haf good news for two men, and bad news for one +man,--the man who haf the little button; his mine are not goot. The +other two can make twelve dollars of silver from one ton of ore." + +By this time Nelly looked so hopelessly puzzled, that the old +gentleman laughed, and said:-- + +"You haf not understand: is that so?" + +"Oh, no, sir!" said Nelly: "I have not understood at all. Could I +understand?" + +"Ach, yes! it is so simple, so simple; the smallest child shall +understand, if I show him. Stay you here till afternoon, and I show +you from beginning," said Mr. Kleesman. "I make two more assays this +afternoon." + +"Thank you, sir," replied Nelly: "I should like to stay very much; +but my brother is waiting for me. I must hurry home. Some other day, +if you will let me, I will come. May I bring my brother?" + +"Is he goot like you; not to touch, and not ask the questions that +are foolish?" said Mr. Kleesman. + +Nelly colored. She was afraid Rob would not be able to keep as quiet +as she had, or to refrain from touching things. Yet she wanted to +have him see the curious sight. + +"I think he will not touch any thing if you ask him not to; and I +will try to keep him very still," said Nelly. + +"Vary goot: he may come. Little one, it will be to me pleasure to +show you all. You are like German child, not like American child," +replied Mr. Kleesman, whose heart warmed towards Nelly more and more +the longer he watched her quiet ways and her thoughtful face. + +Nelly was so full of thoughts about the fiery furnace, the wonderful +little silver buttons in the glowing red cups, and the kind old man +with the white beard, that, for the first time all summer, she +forgot Ulrica, and set out for the valley on a shorter road, which +did not pass Ulrica's house. Poor Ulrica stood in her door, watching +for a long time, till she grew anxious; at last, she pinned her +white handkerchief over her head, and walked up into the town to see +what had become of the child. + +"If it is that she haf again to be frighted by the bad boys," said +Ulrica, doubling up her fist, as she strode along, "I will make Jan +that he go to the townmaster, and haf punish them all." + +No Nelly was to be found. Each person that Ulrica asked had seen +Nelly early in the forenoon; but no one had seen her since. At last, +a man who was driving a long string of pack-mules overheard Ulrica's +questions, and stopped his mules to say:-- + +"Is it that little brown-eyed gal o' March's, down in the valley, +you're asking after?" + +"Yes, yes, it are she!" exclaimed Ulrica: "haf you saw?" + +"Yes," said the man: "I met her two hours ago well down the valley +road, most to Cobb's cabin,--she an' her brother." + +"Ach!" said Ulrica, and turned away without another word. Nor did +she speak to a soul all the way home. She was hurt and offended. "It +are first time," she said; "but it will not be last time. She haf +found more as Ulrica," and poor Ulrica brooded over the thing till +she made herself very unhappy. She would have been quite comforted +if she had known that Nelly was feeling almost as badly about it as +she did. Nelly did not remember, till she was half way to Lucinda's +cabin, that she had not stopped to say good-by to Ulrica. As soon as +she thought of it, she stood still, in the middle of the road, and +said, "Oh, dear!" out loud. At first, she had half a mind to go +back; but she knew that would be silly. So she trudged along, trying +to hope that Ulrica would not have been watching for her. As soon as +she saw Rob, she exclaimed:-- + +"Oh, Rob! I forgot to come by way of Ulrica's, as we always do. I'm +afraid she is watching for me. If it hadn't been so far, I'd have +gone back." + +Rob looked astonished. + +"Why, what in the world made you forget it?" he asked. "You don't +like goat's milk as well as I do, or you wouldn't ever forget to go +to Ulrica's!" + +"Well, you'd have forgotten it yourself, this time," said Nelly, "I +know, if you'd seen what I have." + +Then she showed him the cups, and told him all about the good time +she had had in Mr. Kleesman's rooms. + +"What! that jolly old fellow with the pipe that looked like Santa +Claus?" cried Rob. "Oh, Nell! don't you believe papa'll let me go +with you, next time?" + +"I guess so," said Nelly. "I didn't see a boy to-day, not one, when +I first went in; and at noon they didn't take any notice of me. Mrs. +Clapp says they forget every thing very soon." + +"Well, they don't!" said Rob, firing up at this statement about +boys; "and Mrs. Clapp needn't think so. I guess I know. You'll see +they'll pitch into us again yet,--at least, into me. I dare say they +won't bother you. But I'm going in, anyhow. It's too mean." + +"I'll ask papa to let you," said Nelly. "We might go in just in time +to get in about nine, and we could stay at Mr. Kleesman's at twelve +o'clock; and then we needn't see them at all. Say, Rob, do you +suppose Ulrica'll care much because I didn't stop?" + +"Why, no!" said Rob: "why should she? You saw her in the morning?" + +"Yes," said Nelly: "but we always did stop, you know; and she was +always standing in the door watching for us, don't you know? I'm +awful sorry!" + +"Oh, pshaw!" said Rob: "you're always thinking of things, Nell." + +It seemed very long to Rob and Nelly before the day came round to go +up to Rosita again. It was only two days; but it seemed as much as a +week to them both. That is one of the queerest things in this life, +I think, that time can seem both so much longer and so much shorter +than it really is. Haven't you known Saturday afternoons that didn't +seem one bit more than a minute long? I have; and I remember just as +well all about them, as if it were only this very last Saturday. + +At last the day came. It was Friday, and a lovely, bright day. Mr. +March had said that Rob might go too; and both the children were +awake long before light, in their impatience to be off. + +"It would do just as well if we got up there early enough to be all +through with selling things, and get in to Mr. Kleesman's before +nine o'clock: wouldn't it, Nell?" said Rob. + +"Why, yes," said Nelly, "of course it would. That's splendid. Let's +get right up now. It's beginning to be light." + +When Mrs. March heard their feet pattering about, she called from +her room:-- + +"What in the world are you about, children?" + +"Getting up, mamma," answered Nelly. "We're going up to town real +early, so as to get out of the way of the boys, and have a good long +time at Mr. Kleesman's. It takes about three hours to do what he +does to the ore. Can't we go?" + +"I have no objection," replied Mrs. March; "but you must have some +breakfast. I will get right up." + +"Oh, no! no! please, dear mamma, don't!" cried Nelly. "It's only +four o'clock by the clock downstairs: I've just been down. We can +get plenty to eat without you. There is beautiful cream in the +pantry; and a whole lot of cold potatoes." + +Mrs. March laughed, and said:-- + +"I don't think cold potatoes are a very good breakfast." + +"Why, mamma! mamma!" cried Rob, "cold potatoes are splendid. I like +them best cold, with lots of salt. Please don't you get up." + +Mrs. March was very sleepy; so she turned over in bed, and went +sound to sleep. When Nelly was dressed, she peeped cautiously in at +the door of her mother's room, which stood open. + +"They're both sound asleep, Rob," she whispered: "let's take off our +shoes." + +"What fun!" whispered Rob; and the two children stole downstairs in +their stocking-feet, like two little thieves; then they drank a good +tumbler of cream, and ate the cold potatoes with salt, and some nice +brown bread, and butter. + +"I don't think a king need have a better breakfast than this," said +Rob. + +"I do!" said Nelly. "If I were a queen, I'd have a better one." + +"What would you have, Nelly?" said Rob, earnestly. + +"Cold roast turkey," said Nelly, "and bread and honey." + +"Pooh!" said Rob, "I hate honey. It has such a twang to it. I'd have +melted maple sugar always on my bread, if I were a king. I'd have +maple sugar packed up in little houses, as they pack the ice in +ice-houses, and just cut out great square junks, to melt up." + +As the children went out of the house, the sky in the east was just +beginning to be bright red. The sun was not up; but it was very +light, and Pike's Peak shone against the red sky like a great +mountain of alabaster. The peaks of the mountains in the west were +rosy red; all their tops were covered with snow, and in the red +light they looked like jewels. + +"Oh, Rob, look! look!" cried Nelly: "isn't it perfectly lovely! +Let's always come early like this." + +Rob looked at the mountains and the sky. + +"Yes, 'twould be pretty if 'twould stay so," he said; "but 'twon't +last a minute." + +Even while he spoke, the red color faded; the mountains began to +look blue; and, in a minute more, up came the sun over the Rosita +hills, and flooded the whole valley with a yellow light. All along +the sides of the road were beautiful flowers,--blue, pink, white, +yellow, and red. It had rained in the night; and every flower was +shining with rain-drops, and as bright as if it had just been +painted. + +"Oh, Rob," said Nelly, "I'll tell you what we'll do: we'll pick a +perfectly splendid bouquet for Ulrica. I know she'd like it. That'll +show her I'm sorry I didn't stop. You pick white and blue, and I'll +pick red and yellow; and then we'll put them all together. Have you +got any string?" + +Rob had a big piece. So they picked a big bunch of flowers; and then +they sat down on a log, and Nelly arranged them in a beautiful +pyramid: the white ones in the middle, then the blue, then the +yellow, and then the red. Last, she put a border of the fine, green +young shoots of the fir around it, and it was really superb. Then +with some stout twine she swung it on her neck, so that it hung down +on her shoulders behind. + +"There!" she said; "I don't feel the weight of it a bit, and that'll +keep it out of the sun too." + +When they reached Ulrica's house, not a window was open. Jan and +Ulrica were still asleep. There had been a dance in Rosita the night +before; and they had danced nearly all night, and were not likely to +wake up very early after such a night as that. + +"Nell, hang it on the door," said Rob, "so they'll find it when they +first open the door." + +"Somebody might steal it," replied Nelly. + +"Pshaw!" said Rob: "who'd want it?" + +"I'm sure anybody would," retorted Nelly: "it's perfectly splendid." + +"You just tie it on," said Rob: "nobody'll touch it." + +Nelly had run around to the back side of the house. A small window, +which opened from a sort of closet where Ulrica kept milk, was open +a little. Nelly squeezed the bouquet in, and ran back to Rob. + +"I've thrown it in at the closet window," she said. "What do you +suppose she'll think when she sees it? She'll think fairies brought +it. Ulrica believes in fairies: she told me so." + +"She don't, though: does she?" exclaimed Rob. "What a goose!" + +"I think it would be nice to believe in them," replied Nelly. "I do, +just a little, wee wee bit. I don't mean really believe, you know; +but just a little bit. I guess there used to be fairies, ever so +many, many years ago; oh! longer ago than our great, great, great +grandmother: don't you?" + +"No!" said Rob, very contemptuously: "there never could have been +any such thing, not since the world began. It's just made-up stories +for girls." + +"Oh, Rob!" cried Nelly: "you used to like to hear the story about +the singing tree, the talking bird, and the laughing water; don't +you know?" + +"That ain't a fairy story," said Rob: "it's a--a--I forget what +mamma called it. Don't you recollect how she explained it all to +us?--how it was all true?" + +"Oh! you mean a parable," said Nelly. "That's what mamma said,--that +it meant that we should all find singing trees and talking birds and +laughing water, if we loved them enough. But it's a fairy story too, +besides all that." + +The children had a droll time going to people's houses so early. +Nobody was up. At Mrs. Clapp's, they had to pound and pound before +they could wake anybody. Then Mr. Clapp put his head out of a window +to see what had happened. + +"Goodness!" he said: "here are the children with the butter. How did +they ever get up here so early?" And he ran down to open the door. + +"Ask them to stay to breakfast," said Mrs. Clapp. "The poor little +things must be faint." + +Nelly and Rob thanked Mr. Clapp, but said they could not stop. + +"We had a splendid breakfast at home," said Rob, triumphantly. + +When Mr. Clapp went back to his room, he said to his wife:-- + +"Poor little things, indeed! You wouldn't have called them so, if +you'd seen them. Their eyes shone like diamonds, and their cheeks +were just like roses; and they looked as full of frolic as kittens. +I declare I do envy March those children. That Nelly's going to make +a most beautiful woman." + +Rob and Nelly reached Mr. Kleesman's door at eight o'clock. His +curtains were down; no sign of life about the place. + +"I say, Nell, aren't the Rosita people lazy!" exclaimed Rob. +"What'll we do now?" + +"Sit down here on the step and wait," said Nelly. "He always comes +out here, the first thing, and looks off down into the valley, and +at the mountains. I used to see him when we were at the hotel." + +How long it seemed before they heard steps inside the house; and +then how much longer still before the door opened! When Mr. Kleesman +saw the little figures sitting on his door-step he started. + +"Ach, my soul!" he exclaimed: "it is the little one. Good morning! +good morning!" And he stooped over and kissed Nelly's forehead. + +"This is my brother, sir," said Nelly. "We are all done our work, +and have come to see you make the assay. You said you would show +us." + +"Ach! ach!" cried the old gentleman; and he looked very sorry. "It +is one tousand of pities: it cannot be that I show you to-day. My +chimney he did do smoke; and a man will come now this hour to take +out my furnace the flue. It must be made new. Not for some day I +make the assay more." + +Nelly and Rob looked straight in his face without speaking: they +were too disappointed to say one word. Kind old Mr. Kleesman was +very sorry for them. + +"You shall again come: I will show the very first day," he said. + +"Thank you, sir," said Nelly. "We always come into town Tuesdays and +Fridays. We can come to your house any time." And she took hold of +Rob's hand, and began to go down the steps. + +"Vait! vait!" exclaimed Mr. Kleesman: "come in, and I show you some +picture. You will not have seen picture of Malacca. I did live many +years in Malacca." + +Rob bounded at these words. His whole face lighted up. + +"Oh, thank you! thank you!" he said: "that is what I like best in +all the world." + +"Vat is dat you like best in all the world: Malacca?" said the old +gentleman. "And vy like you Malacca?" + +Rob looked confused. Nelly came to his rescue. + +"He doesn't mean that he likes Malacca, sir," she said: "only that +he likes to hear about strange countries,--any countries." + +"Ach!" said Mr. Kleesman: "I see. He vill be one explorer." + +"Indeed I will that!" said Rob. "Just as soon as I'm a man I'm going +all round this world." + +Mr. Kleesman had lived ten years in Malacca. He had been in charge +of tin mines there. He was an artist too, this queer old gentleman; +and he had painted a great many small pictures of things and places +he saw there. These he kept in an old leather portfolio, on a shelf +above his bed. This portfolio he now took down, and spread the +pictures out on the bed, for Rob and Nelly to look at. There was a +picture of the house he lived in while he was in Malacca. It was +built of bamboo sticks and rattan, and looked like a little toy +house. There was a picture of one of the queer boats a great many of +the Malay people live in. Think of that: live in a boat all the +time, and never have a house on land at all. These boats are about +twenty feet long, and quite narrow; at one end they have a +fireplace, and at the other end their bedroom. The bedroom is +nothing but a mat spread over four poles; and under this mat the +whole family sits by day and sleeps by night. They move about from +river to river, and live on fish, and on wild roots which they dig +on the banks of the rivers. + +"My servant lif in that boat," said Mr. Kleesman. "He take wife, and +go lif in a boat. His name Jinghi. I write it for you in Malay." + +Then Mr. Kleesman wrote on a piece of paper some queer characters, +which Nelly said looked just like the letters on tea-chests. + +"Could you write my name in Malay?" asked Nelly, timidly. + +"Yes, yes," said Mr. Kleesman: "I write." And he handed Nelly a card +with the following marks on it:-- + +[Illustration] + +"Dear me!" said Nelly: "is that all it takes to write 'Nelly'? It is +a quicker language than ours: isn't it? May I have the paper?" + +"I write you better," said Mr. Kleesman; and wrote it over again on +a card, which Nelly wrapped up carefully and put in her pocket. + +Rob wanted to ask for his name too, but he did not dare to; and Mr. +Kleesman did not think of it. He meant to be kind to Rob; but he was +thinking most of the time about Nelly. Nelly seemed to him, as he +said, like a little girl of Germany, and not of America; and he +loved to look at her, and to hear her talk. + +There were dozens of pictures in the portfolio; more than I could +tell you about: pictures of streets in Malacca; pictures of the +people in their gay-colored clothes,--they looked like negroes, only +not quite so black; pictures of palm-trees, with cocoanuts growing +on them; pictures of pineapples growing; and pictures of snakes, +especially one of a deadly snake,--the cobra. + +"Him I kill in my own house, close by my veranda," said Mr. +Kleesman: "and I draw him with all his colors, while he lie dead, +before he are cold." + +While they were talking, there came in a man in rough clothes, a +miner, carrying a small bag of stout canvas. He opened it, and took +out a handful of stones, of a very dark color, almost black. + +"Would you dig where you found that?" he said, holding out the +stones to Mr. Kleesman. + +Mr. Kleesman took them in his hand, looked at them attentively, and +said:-- + +"Yes, that is goot mineral. There might be mine vere dat mineral is +on top. We haf proverb in our country, 'No mine is not wort not'ing +unless he haf black hat on his head.'" + +The man put his stones back in his bag, nodded his head, and went +out, saying:-- + +"I reckon we'll buy that claim. I'll let you know." + +A small piece of the stone had fallen on the floor. Nelly eyed it +like a hawk. She was trying to remember where she had seen stones +just like it. She knew she had seen them somewhere; she recollected +thinking at the time how very black the stones were. She picked up +the little piece of stone, and asked Mr. Kleesman if it were good +for any thing. + +"Oh, no, for not'ing," he said, and turned back to the pictures. +Nelly's interest in the pictures had grown suddenly very small. The +little black stone had set her to thinking. She put it in her +pocket, and told Rob it was time to go home. + +"Ven vill you again come?" said Mr. Kleesman. + +"Next Tuesday," replied Nelly. "That is our day." + +"Perhaps it vill be done den; perhaps not: cannot tell. But ven it +is done, I show you all how I make mine assay," said Mr. Kleesman, +and kissed Nelly again as he bade them good-by. + +"Now we'll go down to Ulrica's," said Nelly, "and eat our lunch on +her porch. I wonder what she thought when she saw the flowers." + +When the children reached Ulrica's house, they found the door open, +and Ulrica sitting on the door-step, picking the feathers off a +white hen. As soon as she saw Nelly, she jumped up and dropped the +hen. The feathers flew in all directions; but Ulrica did not mind: +she darted up to Nelly, and threw her arms round her neck, and spoke +so fast,--half in Swedish, half in broken English,--that Nelly could +not understand what she said. However, she knew she was thanking her +for the flowers; and so she replied:-- + +"I am glad you like them, Ulrica. But are you not ashamed to be +asleep at six o'clock? And Rob and I had walked all the way from the +valley, and you were asleep! and Jan too!" + +Then Ulrica told them about the dance; and how they had been up so +late it had made them sleepy. And then she whisked up the white hen +again, and began tearing off its feathers in the greatest hurry. + +"Vat is it you came so soon?" she said. "You must to dinner stay. I +kill dis for you,--for your dinner, I not tink you come till sun +high." + +"Oh, stay! stay, Nell, let's stay!" cried Rob, who had tasted +Ulrica's stewed chicken once before, and had never forgotten how +good it was. Ulrica always boiled her chickens with a few +cranberries, as they cook it in Sweden. You would not think it would +be good: but it is delicious. + +Nelly thought a minute. + +"It will not make us any later than if we stayed at Mr. Kleesman's," +she said. "Yes, I think we will stay." + +Ulrica clapped her hands when Nelly said this. + +"Goot! goot!" she said, "mine child." And she looked at Nelly with +tears in her eyes, as she so often did. Then she gave Rob the book +of Swedish pictures to look at, and he threw himself at full length +on the floor with it. You could have eaten off the boards of +Ulrica's house, she kept them so clean. Nelly sat in the wooden +rocking-chair, and watched Ulrica getting the dinner. Pretty soon +Nellie began to nod; and in a few minutes she was fast asleep. +Ulrica took her up in her great, strong arms, as easily as if she +were a baby, and carried her across the room and laid her on the +bed. + +"Hullo!" said Rob, when he looked up from his book and saw Ulrica +carrying Nelly: "what's the matter with Nell?" + +"Sh! sh! make not noise," whispered Ulrica. "She haf sleep. She haf +tire in the sun." + +"We got up before four o'clock," whispered Rob: "but I ain't sleepy +a mite." + +"Dat iss, that you are man and not girl," said Ulrica; which pleased +Rob immensely. + +After Ulrica had laid Nelly on the bed, she went to the big chest in +the corner, and took out a fine red woollen blanket, with bright +blue figures in the corners. This she spread over Nelly; and then +she stood looking at her for some minutes. Nelly's face, when she +was asleep, looked much older than it really was. Her eyes were +large, and her mouth was large, and her cheek-bones were high. + +"Mine child! mine child!" muttered Ulrica, under her breath, and +brushed the tears out of her eyes with the back of her hard hand, as +she went back to her work. + +When Nelly waked up, dinner was all ready; and Jan and Ulrica were +discussing whether they should wake Nelly or not. + +"Oh!" exclaimed Nelly, sitting up and rubbing her eyes, "how came I +here? Where's Rob?" + +Ulrica sprang to her, and took her little hand in hers. + +"Mine child, you haf sleep in chair. I bring you in mine arms here. +Haf you rest? Come eat." And she picked her up again, and ran +laughing back and forth two or three times across the room with her +in her arms. + +"She is like baby in arms: she is so light," said Ulrica to Jan in +Swedish. "She has too much work." + +"No, no," said Jan: "she is all right. She is at the age to be +thin." But Ulrica shook her head. + +How good that dinner was, and how nice it looked! There was no cloth +on the table; but the wood was white as pine wood could be. On one +end stood Nelly's pyramid of bright flowers; and, on the other, the +great platter of stewed chicken, with the red cranberries floating +in the white gravy. Then there was a big plate of rye cakes, baked +in the ashes; and two pitchers of milk, one of cow's and one of +goat's. Jan always bowed his head down and said a short blessing in +Swedish, before they began to eat; and Nelly and Rob liked this, +because, as Nelly said:-- + +"It makes you feel as if Jan were just as good as papa: doesn't it, +Rob?" + +And Rob said, "Yes;" but in a minute afterward he added: "Don't you +suppose any bad men say grace, Nell?" + +"No," said Nelly; "not real grace, real earnest, like papa and Jan. +Perhaps they make believe say grace." + +After dinner, Nelly showed Ulrica and Jan her little card on which +Mr. Kleesman had written her name in Malay. As she took it out of +her pocket, the black stone fell out and rolled away on the floor. +She sprang to catch it. + +"What's that?" said Rob. + +"A piece of black stone," replied Nell. + +"What's it for?" said Rob. + +"Oh, I just wanted it," said Nelly. + +"But what did you want it for, Nell?" persisted Rob. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +NELLY'S SILVER MINE + + +Nelly would not give any reason, but put the stone carefully back in +her pocket. She was determined not to tell Rob any thing about it, +unless she found the stones; and the more she racked her brains the +more confused she became as to where it was she had seen them. All +the way home she was in a brown study, trying to think where it +could have been. She was in such a brown study that she was walking +straight past Lucinda's door without seeing her, when Lucinda called +her name aloud. + +"Why, Nelly," she said, "ain't you going to stop long enough to +speak?" + +"She hasn't spoken a word all the way," said Rob, discontentedly. "I +can't get any thing out of her. She's real cross." + +"Oh, Rob! Rob! how can you!" cried Nelly: "I wasn't cross a bit." + +"Then you're sulky," retorted Rob; "and mamma says that's worse." + +"Tut, tut," said Lucinda: "Nelly doesn't look either sulky or cross. +I guess you're mistaken, Rob." + +Nelly felt a little conscience-stricken. She knew she had been +thinking hard, all the last hour, about the black stones. + +"Never mind, Rob!" she said: "I'll talk now." And she began to tell +Lucinda all about the pictures they had seen at Mr. Kleesman's. + +"Oh, yes!" said Lucinda: "I know all about those. My little +sister's got one of them: Mr. Kleesman gave it to her. He's real +fond of little girls. It's a picture he made of the black nurse he +had for his little boy. She's got the baby in her arms." + +"Why, has Mr. Kleesman got any children?" exclaimed Nelly, very much +surprised. + +"Oh, yes!" said Lucinda: "he's got a wife and two children over in +Germany. That's what makes him so blue sometimes. His wife hates +America, and won't come here." + +"Then I should think he'd stay there," said Nelly. + +"So should I," said Lucinda; "but they say it's awful hard to make a +living over there; and he's a layin' up money here. He'll go back +one of these days." + +"Oh! I wish he'd take me with him," said Rob. + +"Rob March! would you go away and leave papa and mamma and me?" said +Nelly. + +Rob hung his head. The longing of a born traveller was in his eyes. + +"I should come back, Nell," he said. "I shouldn't stay: only just to +see the places." + +"Well," said Nelly, slowly, "I wouldn't go away from all of you, not +to see the most beautiful things in all the world; not even to see +the city of Constantinople." + +Rob did not answer. He was afraid that there must be something wrong +about him, to be so willing to do what seemed to Nelly such a +dreadful thing. To see Constantinople, and hear the muezzins call +out the hours for prayers from the mosques, Rob would have set off +that very minute and walked all the way. + +After Nelly went to bed that night, she lay awake a long time, still +thinking about the black stones. She had put the little piece of +stone on the bureau, and while she was undressing she hardly took +her eyes off it. She recollected just how the place looked where she +saw them. It was in a ravine: there were piles of stones in the +bottom of the ravine, and a good many scattered all along the sides. +There were pine trees and bushes too: it was quite a shady place. + +"I should know it in a minute, if I saw it again," said Nelly to +herself; "but where, oh! where was it!" + +At last, all in one second, it flashed into her mind. It was one day +when she had started for Rosita later than usual, and had thought +she would take a short cut across the hills; but she had found it +any thing but a short cut. As soon as she had climbed one hill she +found another rising directly before her, and, between the two, a +great ravine, down to the very bottom of which she must go before +she could climb the other hill. She had crossed several of these +ravines,--she did not remember how many,--and had come out at last +on the top of the highest of all the hills above the town: a hill so +steep that she had always wondered how the cows could keep on their +feet when they were grazing high up on it. It was in one of these +ravines that she had seen the black stones; but in which one she +could not be sure. Neither could she recollect exactly where she had +left the road and struck out to cross the hills. + +"I might walk and walk all day," thought Nelly, "and never find it. +How shall I ever manage?" + +Fortune favored Nelly. The very next day, Billy came to the house to +ask if Mrs. March could spare Nelly to go and stay two days with +Lucinda, while he was away. He had an excellent chance to make some +money by taking a party of gentlemen across the valley and up into +one of the passes in the range, where they were going to fish. He +would be at home the second night: Nelly need stay only over one +night. Lucinda was not well, and Billy did not like to leave her +alone. + +Mrs. March said, "Certainly: Nelly could go." + +As soon as she told Nelly of the plan, Nelly's heart seemed to leap +in her bosom with the thought:-- + +"Now that's just the chance for me to look for the stones." + +She set off very early, and reached Lucinda's house before eight +o'clock. After she had unpacked her bag, and arranged all her things +in the little room where she was to sleep, she asked Lucinda if +there were any thing she could do to help her. + +Lucinda was quilting a big bedquilt, which was stretched out on +chairs and long wooden bars, and took up so much of the room in the +kitchen it was hard to get about. + +"Mercy, no, child!" said Lucinda. "I hain't got nothin' to do but +this quilt, an' I expect you ain't much of a hand at quiltin'. +'Twan't my notion to have ye come,--not but what I'm always glad to +see ye; ye know that,--but I wan't afraid to be alone. But Billy +he's took it into his head 'tain't safe for me to be alone here +nights. Now if there's any thing ye want to do, ye jest go 'n' do +it." + +"Would it make any difference to you if I were gone all day, so I am +here to sleep?" said Nelly. + +"Why, no," replied Lucinda; "not a bit. Did ye want to go into the +town?" + +"No," said Nelly; "but I wanted to find a place I saw once, on the +way there. It was a real deep place, almost sunk down in the ground, +full of pines and bushes: a real pretty place. But it wasn't on the +road. I don't know 's I can find it; but I'd like to." + +"All right," said Lucinda: "you go off. I'll give ye some lunch in +case ye get hungry. Ye won't be lonesome, will ye, without Rob?" + +"Oh, no!" said Nelly: "I like to be all alone out doors." + +Then she bade Lucinda good-by, and set off. For a half mile or so, +she walked in the road toward Rosita. She recollected that she had +passed Lucinda's before she turned off from the road. But the more +she tried to remember the precise spot where she had turned off the +more confused she became. At last she sprang out of the road, on the +left hand side, and began running as fast as she could. + +"I may as well strike off in one place as another," she thought, +"since I can't remember. It cannot be very far from here." + +She climbed one steep hill, and ran down into the ravine beyond it; +then another hill, and another ravine,--no black stones. The sun was +by this time high, and very hot. Nelly had done some severe +climbing. + +"On the top of the next hill I'll eat my lunch," she thought. + +The next hill was the steepest one yet. How Nelly did puff and pant +before she reached the top; and when she reached it, there was not a +single tree big enough to shade her! + +"Oh, dear!" said Nelly; and looked up and down the ravine, to see if +she could spy any shade anywhere. A long way off to the north, she +saw a little clump of pines and oaks. She walked slowly in that +direction, keeping her foothold with difficulty in the rolling +gravel on the steep side of the hill. Just as she reached the first +oak-bush, her foot slipped, and she clutched hard at the bush to +save herself: the bush gave way, and she rolled down, bush and all, +to the very bottom of the ravine. Luckily, it was soft, sandy gravel +all the way, and she was not in the least hurt: only very dirty and +a good deal frightened. + +"I'll walk along now at the bottom, where it is level," said Nelly, +"and not climb up till I come to where the trees are." + +There had been at some time or other a little stream in this ravine, +and it was in the stony bed of it that Nelly was walking. She +looked very carefully at the stones. They were all light gray or +reddish colored: not a black one among them. She had in her pocket +the little piece Mr. Kleesman had given her: she took it out, and +looked at it again. It was totally unlike all the stones she saw +about her. + +"Oh, dear!" sighed Nelly: "I expect I won't find it to-day. I'll +come again to-morrow. At any rate, I'll go to that nice, shady place +to eat my lunch." + +It was further than she thought. In Colorado, every thing looks a +great deal nearer to you than it really is: the air is so thin and +light that mountains twenty miles away look as if they were not more +than three or four; and there are a great many funny stories of the +mistakes into which travellers are led by this peculiarity of the +air. They set off before breakfast, perhaps, to walk to a hill which +looks only a little way off; and, after they have walked an hour or +two, there stands the hill, still seeming just as far off as ever. +One of the funniest stories is of a man who had been cheated in this +way so often that at last he didn't believe his eyes any longer as +to whether a distance were long or short; and one day he was found +taking off his shoes and stockings to wade through a little ditch +that anybody could easily step over. + +"Why, man alive!" said the people who stood by, "what are you about? +You don't need to wade a little ditch like that! Step across it." + +"Ha!" said he, "you needn't try to fool me any more. I expect that +ditch is ten feet wide." + +Nelly walked on and on in the narrow stony bed of the dried-up +stream. The stones hurt her feet, but it was easier walking than on +the rolling gravel of the steep sides above. She stopped thinking +about the black stones. She was so hot and tired and hungry, all she +thought of was getting to the trees to sit down. At last she reached +the place just below them. They were much higher up on the hillside +than she had supposed. She stood looking up at them. + +"I expect I'll tumble before I get up there," she thought. It looked +about as steep as the side of the roof to a house. But the shade was +so cool and inviting that Nelly thought it worth trying for. +Half-way up her feet slipped, and down she came on her knees. She +scrambled up; and, as she looked down, what should she see, in the +place where her knees pressed into the gravel, but a bit of the +black stone! At first she thought it was the very piece she had had +in her pocket; but she felt in her pocket, and there was her own +piece all safe. She took it out, held the two together, looked at +them, turned them over and over: yes! the stones were really, +exactly the same color! Now she was so excited that she forgot all +about the heat, and all about her hunger. + +"This must be the very ravine!" she said, and began to look eagerly +about her for more of the stones. Not another bit could she find! In +her eager search, she did not observe that she was slowly working +down the hill, till suddenly she found herself again at the bottom +of the ravine, in the dried bed of the brook. Then she stood still, +and looked around her, considering what to do. At last she decided +to walk on up the ravine. + +"The big pile of them was right in such a deep place as this," +thought Nelly: "I guess it's farther up." + +It was very hard walking, and Nelly was beginning to grow tired and +discouraged again, when lo! right at her feet, in among the gray +stones and the red ones, lay a small black one. She picked it up: it +was of the same kind. A few steps farther on, another, and another: +she began to stoop fast, picking them up, one by one. She had one +hand full: then she looked ahead, and, only a little farther on, +there she saw the very place she recollected so well,--the ravine +full of bushes, and low pine trees, and piles of stones among them. +She had found it! Can you imagine how Nelly felt? You see she +believed that it was just the same thing as if she had found a great +sum of money. How would you feel if you should suddenly find at your +feet thousands and thousands of dollars, if your father and mother +were very poor, and needed money very much? I think you would feel +just as Nelly did. She sat straight down on the ground, and looked +at the stones, and felt as if she should cry,--she was so glad! Then +the thought came into her mind:-- + +"Perhaps this land belongs to somebody who won't sell it. Perhaps he +knows there is a mine here!" She looked all about, but she could not +see any stakes set up to show that it was owned by any one: so she +hoped it was not. + +[Illustration: _There she saw the very place she recollected so +well._ _Page 257._] + +Now that the excitement of the search was over, she began to feel +very hungry again, and ate her lunch with a great relish. The +thoughtful Lucinda had put in the basket a small bottle of milk. +Nelly thought she had never tasted any thing so good in her life as +that milk. When you are very thirsty, milk tastes much better than +water. After Nelly had eaten her lunch, she filled her basket with +the black stones, and set off for home. Presently she began to +wonder if she could find her way back again to the spot. + +"That would be too dreadful," thought she: "to lose it, now I've +just found it." Then she recollected how, in the story of Hop o' My +Thumb, it said that when he was carried off into the forest he slyly +dropped beans all along the way, to mark the path, and thus found +his way back, very easily by means of them. So she resolved to walk +along in the bed of the stream, till it was time to climb up and +strike off toward Lucinda's, and then to drop red stones all along +the way she went, till she reached the beaten road. She took up the +skirt of her gown in front, and filled it full with little red +stones. Then she trudged along with as light a heart as ever any +little girl had, scattering the stones along the way, like a farmer +planting corn. + +When she reached the road, she was surprised to see that she had +come out the other side of Lucinda's house, full quarter of a mile +nearer home. + +"Now this isn't anywhere near where I left the road before," she +said. "How'll I ever tell the place?" + +At first she thought she would put a bush up in the crotch of a +little pine-tree that stood just there. + +"No, that won't do," she said: "the wind might blow it out." + +Then she thought she would stick the bush in the sand; but she +feared some horse or cow might munch it and pull it up. At last she +decided to break down a small bough of the pine-tree, and leave it +hanging. + +"We can't make a mistake, then, possibly," she thought. + +When she reached the house, Lucinda had cleared the bedquilt all +away, and had the table set for supper, though it was only half-past +four o'clock. Nelly was not hungry. It seemed to her only a few +minutes since she ate her lunch. + +"Did you find the place, Nelly?" said Lucinda. + +"Yes," said Nelly. + +"Was it as pretty as it was before?" Lucinda asked. + +"Oh, yes!" said Nelly; "but it was awful steep getting down to it. I +kept tumbling down." + +"Well, you're the curiousest child ever was!" exclaimed Lucinda. +"Anybody'd think you got walkin' enough in a week without trampin' +off this way." + +Nelly did not reply. She felt a little guilty at letting Lucinda +think it was only to find a pretty place she had gone; but she was +sure it would not be best to tell anybody about the black stones +till she had told her father. She had hid them all in a pile near +the pine-tree whose branch she had broken down; and she meant to +pick them up on her way home the next night. In the morning it +looked to Nelly as if it never would be night, she was in such a +hurry to see her father. + +"Oh, Lucinda," she said, "do give me something to do! I don't want +to go off to-day. I want to stay with you." So Lucinda gave her some +brown towels to hem, and also let her snap the chalked cord with +which she marked off the pattern on her quilt; and, by help of these +two occupations, Nelly contrived to get through the day, till four +o'clock, when she set out for home. As good luck would have it, when +she was within quarter of a mile from home she saw her father at +work in a field. She jumped over the fence and ran to him. + +"Papa! papa!" she said, breathless: "look here!" And she held up her +basket of black stones. "This is the kind of stone that comes where +the silver is. There is a mine underneath it always: Mr. Kleesman +said so. And I've found a mine: I'll show you where it is." + +Mr. March laughed very heartily. + +"Why, my dear little girl!" he said, "what ever put such an idea +into your head? I don't believe those stones are good for any +thing." + +Nelly set down her basket, and pulled her pocket-handkerchief out of +her pocket: the little piece of black stone she had got from Mr. +Kleesman was tied firmly in one corner. + +"Look at that, papa," she said, "and see if the stones in the basket +are not just like it." Then she told her father all about the man's +coming into the assayer's office with a bag of stones like that one, +and what Mr. Kleesman said to him. + +"Don't you see, papa," she said, vehemently, "that it must be a +mine? Why, there are piles of it: it has all slipped down into the +bottom of this steep place; there used to be a brook down there. I +know it's a mine, papa! And if I found it, it's ours: isn't it?" + +Nelly's cheeks were red, and her words came so fast they almost +choked her. + +"Nelly, dear," said her father, "don't you recollect that once +before you thought you had found silver ore, you and Rob, up in the +Ute Pass?" + +Nelly looked ashamed. + +"Oh, papa," she said, "that was quite different. That was when we +were little things. Papa, I know this is a mine. If you'd heard what +Mr. Kleesman said, you'd think so too. He said in his country they +had a proverb, that no mine was good for any thing unless it had a +black hat on its head; and that meant that there were always black +stones on top like this." + +Mr. March turned the little bit of black stone over and over, and +examined it carefully. + +"I do not know much about minerals," he said. "I think I never saw a +stone like this." + +"Nor I either, papa," exclaimed Nelly: "except in this one place. I +know it's a mine, and I'll give it to you all for your own. It's +mine, isn't it, if I found it?" + +"Yes, dear, it's yours, unless somebody else had found it before +you." + +"I don't believe anybody had," said Nelly; "for there weren't any +stakes stuck down anywhere near; and all the claims have stakes +stuck down round them. Oh, papa! isn't it splendid! now we can have +all the money we want." + +Mr. March smiled half sadly. + +"My dear little daughter," he said, "there are a great many more +people who have lost all the money they had in the world trying to +get money out of a mine, than there are who have made fortunes in +that way. You must not get so excited. Even if there is a mine in +the place where you found these stones, I don't think I have money +enough to open it and take out the ore. But I will show these stones +to Mr. Scholfield. He knows a great deal about mines." + +"Oh, do! do! papa," exclaimed Nelly. "I know it's a mine." + +"I am going down there to-night," said Mr. March. "I will carry your +stones, and see what he says. In the mean time, we will not say any +thing about it to anybody. You and papa will just have a little +secret." + +When Nelly kissed her father for good-night, she nodded at him with +a meaning glance, and he returned the nod with an equally meaning +one. + +"What are you two plotting?" cried Mrs. March. "I see mischief in +both your eyes." + +"Oh, it's a little secret we have, Nelly and I," said Mr. March. "It +won't last long: we'll tell you to-morrow." + +It turned out that Mrs. March did not have to wait till the next day +before learning the secret. Mr. March got home about midnight from +Mr. Scholfield's. Mrs. March had been sound asleep for two hours: +the sound of Mr. March's steps wakened her. + +"Is that you, Robert?" she called. + +"Yes," he said. There was something in the tone of his voice which +was so strange that it roused her instantly. She sat up straight in +bed and exclaimed:-- + +"What is the matter?" + +"Nothing," said Mr. March. + +"Nonsense!" said Mrs. March: "you can't deceive me. Something has +happened. Come in here this minute and tell me what it is." + +Then Mr. March told her the whole story. He had taken Nelly's stones +to Mr. Scholfield, who had said immediately that there was without +doubt a mine in the place where that mineral was found; and, when +Mr. March had told him as nearly as he could from Nelly's +description where the spot was, he had said that no mines had yet +been discovered very near that place, and no claims were staked out. + +"Scholfield says we must go immediately and stake out our claim. +He'll go shares with me in digging; and at any rate will see what's +there," said Mr. March. + +"Do you believe in it yourself, Robert?" asked Mrs. March. She was +much afraid of new schemes for making money. + +"Why, I can't say I'm very enthusiastic about it," replied Mr. +March; "but then I don't know any thing about mines, you see. +Scholfield was near wild over it. He says we've got silver there +sure." + +"Will you have to find money to begin with?" asked Mrs. March, +anxiously. + +"Well, Sarah, considering that we haven't got any money, I don't see +how I can: do you?" laughed Mr. March. "But Scholfield says that if +I will give him a third of the mine, he'll take another man in, and +they two'll pay for the working it at first. That seems very fair: +doesn't it?" + +"I don't know," said Mrs. March. "If the mine really does turn out +to be very valuable, it is giving him a good deal." + +"That is true," replied Mr. March. "But, on the other hand, perhaps +it is not worth any thing; and, in that case, Scholfield has the +worst of the bargain. He says, though, he can tell very soon. He has +been in mining a good deal; and he can make his own assays with the +blow-pipe. We're to start very early in the morning, and take Nelly +along to show us the way. The dear child was nearly beside herself +last night." + +"So that was your secret: was it?" said Mrs. March. + +"Yes, and a very hard one it was for the child to keep too," said +Mr. March. "She was half crazy to tell Rob." + +"You'll take him along too: won't you?" asked Mrs. March. + +"Oh, yes," said Mr. March: "no more secrets now; that is, not in +this house. We won't have it talked round, if we can help it. +Scholfield says that the minute it is known we've found silver +there, those ravines will just swarm with men prospecting for more +claims." + +The next day, Mr. March and Mr. Scholfield and Rob and Nelly set out +immediately after breakfast for the ravine. They stopped at Billy's +house and took him with them. Mr. Scholfield had said to Mr. March, +as they walked along:-- + +"If Long Billy'll go in with us, I'd rather have him than any man I +know about here. He's as honest 's daylight; I don't think he's +doing much this summer; I think he'll go to work digging right +away." + +Wasn't Nelly a proud little girl as she walked ahead of the party? +She kept hold of Rob's hand, and every now and then they would run +so fast that the older people had to run, too, to keep up with them. + +"How do you know the way so well, Nelly?" said Mr. Scholfield. + +Nelly laughed. + +"If you watch closely, you can see what I tell by," she said. "It's +in plain sight." + +"Yes, plain sight! plain sight!" shouted Rob, to whom Nelly had +pointed out the little red stones. "It's out of a story." + +Mr. Scholfield and Mr. March and Billy all looked around, perplexed; +but they could see nothing. + +"Oh, tell us the secret, Guide," said Mr. March. "We are stupid: we +can't find it out." + +Then Nelly told them; and as soon as she pointed to the red stones +they wondered very much that they had not noticed them before. + +It seemed a very short way to the ravine, this time: Nelly had +reached it before she thought of its being near. + +"Why, here it is," she said; "I didn't think we were half way +there." + +Then she and Rob sat on the ground and watched the others. Rob was +very quiet. He was a good deal overawed at the idea of a real silver +mine all for their own. + +"Do you suppose it's right here, right under our feet, Nell?" said +he, stamping his foot on the ground. + +"I dare say," said Nelly. "Perhaps it is all over round here: some +of them are as big as a mile." + +"I wonder if they'll let us go down as often as we want to," said +Rob. "They'll have to, won't they, if it's our own mine?" + +"That'll be for papa to say," answered Nelly, decidedly. "I've given +it to him. It's his mine." + +While the children was thus building their innocent air-castles in a +small way, the brains of the older people were building no less +actively, and on a larger scale. Both Billy and Mr. Scholfield were +much excited. Billy ran from spot to spot, now hammering a stone in +two with his hammer, now digging fiercely into the ground with his +pick-axe. Mr. Scholfield went about picking up the black stones, and +piling them together, till he had quite a monument of them. + +"I declare," he said at last, "it beats me that this place hasn't +ever been found before, much 's this country's been prospected over +and over. I don't know what to make of it. But there isn't a sign of +a claim here for miles: I know that." + +"Well, I'll tell yer what I'm a thinkin'," said Billy. "I'm a +thinkin' that 's fur back 's them fust prospectin' days there was a +creek in here; 'n' thet's the reason there didn't nobody look here. +I've heern it said hundreds o' times in town thet there wan't no use +lookin' along these ridges; they'd all been looked over thorough, +'n' there wan't nothin' in 'em. But we've struck a silver mine, +sure: I hain't any doubt of it. Let's name her 'The Little Nelly.'" + +Mr. March's face grew red. He did not like the idea of having a mine +called after Nelly; but he did not want to hurt Billy's feelings. +Before he could speak, Mr. Scholfield cried out:-- + +"Good for you, Billy! That's what we'll call it! That's a name to +bring good luck. 'The Little Nelly!' and may she turn out not so +'little,' after all; and the first bucketful of ore we draw up, +Nelly, we'll drink your health, and christen the mine." + +Nelly did not quite understand what all this meant. + +"Did you mean that I am to name the mine, sir?" she said. + +"No," said Mr. Scholfield: "we meant that we were going to name it +for you, by your name. But you can name it, if you like. That would +be luckier still. Don't you like to have it called by your name?" + +Nelly hesitated. + +"I think I would rather not have it named after me," she said: "some +of the mines have such dreadful names. But I know a name I think +would be a real pretty name." + +"What's that?" said her father. + +"The Good Luck," said Nelly. + +Billy clapped his knee hard with his hand. + +"By jingo!" said he, "that's the best name ever was given to a mine +yet. 'The Good Luck' it shall be; and good luck it was to you, +Nelly, the day you struck it. Old Pine he said, one day last +spring, mebbe you'd find a mine, when I was a tellin' him how you +'n' Rob was allers lookin' for one." + +"But I wasn't looking for this, Billy," said Nelly. "I gave up +looking for one a long time ago, when we began to sell the eggs. It +was just an accident that I happened to remember the black stones in +here." + +"That's the way some of the best mines have been found," said Mr. +Scholfield: "just by sheer accident. There was a man I knew, in +California, had his mule run away from him one day: it was somewhere +in that Tuolomne region; and if that mule didn't run straight down +into a gulch that was just washed full of free gold,--and the fellow +had been walking in it some time before he noticed it! There's a +heap o' luck in this world." + +"Yes," said Mr. March, "there's a great deal of luck; but there is a +great deal which is set down to luck which isn't luck. Now, if my +little girl here hadn't had the good-will and the energy to try to +earn some money for her mother and me, she wouldn't have been +searching for a short cut to Rosita over these hills, and would +never have found this mine." + +"That's so," said Mr. Scholfield, looking admiringly at Nelly. +"She's a most uncommon girl, that Nelly of yours. I think we ought +to call the mine after her; it's hers." + +"No," said Mr. March: "I like her name for it best. Let us call it +'The Good Luck.'" + +Mrs. March was watching for her husband and children when they came +down the lane. She had been much more excited about the silver mine +than she had confessed to Mr. March. All day long she had been +unable to keep it out of her mind. The prospect was too tempting. +"Why should it not have happened to us, as well as to so many +people," she thought. "Oh! if we only could have just money enough +to give Rob and Nelly a good education, I would not ask for any +thing more. And, even if this is not very much of a mine, it might +give us money enough for that." With such hopes and imaginations as +these Mrs. March's mind had been full all day long; and, when she +saw Mr. March and Rob and Nelly coming toward the house, she felt +almost afraid to see them, lest she should see disappointment +written on their faces. + +Not at all. Rob and Nelly came bounding on ahead, and, as they drew +near the door, they shouted out:-- + +"The Good Luck! The Good Luck! It is named 'The Good Luck.'" + +"They wanted to call it 'The Little Nelly,' but Nelly wouldn't," +said Rob. "I don't see why. If I'd found it, I'd have called it 'The +Rob,' I know. They didn't ask me to let them call it for me. If they +had, they might and welcome." + +"It is really a mine, then?" said Mrs. March, looking at her +husband. + +"Yes, Sarah, I think it is," he replied. "If Scholfield and Billy +know,--and they seem to be very sure,--there is good promise of +silver there; and Nelly herself has named it 'The Good Luck.'" + +"Oh, Nelly! did you, really?" exclaimed Mrs. March. "You dear +child!" And she threw both arms around Nelly, and gave her a great +hug. "That's a lovely name. I do believe it will bring luck." + +"I didn't want it named after me," said Nelly. "It isn't as if it +was a live thing--" + +"Subjunctive mood, dear! 'as if it were,'" interrupted Mrs. March. + +"As if it were," repeated Nelly, looking confused. "I wish they'd +left the subjunctive mood out of the grammar. I sha'n't ever learn +it! It isn't as if it were a live thing like a baby or a kitten. I +wouldn't mind having such things called after me, but some of the +mines have the awfullest names, mamma: real wicked names, that I +shouldn't dare to say." + +"Well, they'll call it after you, anyhow, Nell," cried Rob. "Billy +said so, coming home." + +"They won't either," said Nelly, "when it was my own mine, only I +gave it to papa, and I asked them not to; I think it would be real +mean." + +"Oh, I don't mean Mr. Scholfield and Billy," said Rob: "they called +it 'The Good Luck' as soon as you said so; but the men around town. +They'll hear it was you found it; and they'll call it 'The Nelly,' +always: you see if they don't." + +"Rob, don't tease your sister so," said Mrs. March. + +"Why, does that tease you, Nell?" asked Rob, pretending to be very +innocent. "I was only telling you what Billy said." + +"I don't believe it," said Nelly: "do you, papa?" + +"No," replied Mr. March. "I do not see why they should give it any +other name than the one the owners give it." + +"Well, you'll see," said Rob. "There are ever so many mines that go +by two or three different names. There's one way off in the north +somewhere, where Billy used to haul ore, is called 'Bobtail,' some +of the time, and 'Miss Lucy,' some of the time. They tried to change +'Bobtail' into 'Miss Lucy,' and they couldn't." + +"Couldn't!" exclaimed Nelly: "what do you mean by that?" + +"Why, the people wouldn't," said Rob, saucily: "that's all." + +"'That's all' about a great many things in this world, Rob," +laughed his mother. "'Couldn't' is very apt to be only another word +for 'wouldn't' with a little boy I know." + +Rob laughed, and left off teasing Nelly about the name of her mine. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +"THE GOOD LUCK" + + +Billy went to work the very next day at "The Good Luck." First, he +put up a little hut, which looked more like an Indian wigwam than +any thing else. This was for him and Mr. Scholfield to sleep in. + +"We can't take time to go home nights till we get this thing +started," said Billy. "If we've got ore here, the sooner we get some +on't out the better; an' if we hain't got ore here, the sooner we +find that out the better." + +All day long, day after day, Billy and Mr. Scholfield dug, till they +had a big hole, as deep as a well, dug in the ground. Then they put +a windlass at the top, with a long rope fastened to it, and a bucket +on the end of the rope. This bucket they lowered down into the hole, +just as you lower a water-bucket down into a well; then they filled +it full of the stones which they thought had silver in them, and +then turned the windlass and drew it up. + +Mr. Scholfield pounded some of these stones very fine, and melted +them with his blow-pipe, and got quite big buttons of silver out of +them. He gave some of these to Mr. March. When he showed these to +Nelly, she exclaimed:--- + +"Oh! these are a great deal bigger than any I saw in Mr. Kleesman's +office. Our mine must be a good one." + +Mr. Scholfield was in great glee. He made the most extravagant +statements, and talked very foolishly about the mine: said he would +not take half a million of dollars for his third of it; and so on, +till old, experienced miners shook their heads and said he was +crazy. But, when they saw the round buttons of shining silver which +he had extracted from the stones, they stopped shaking their heads, +and thought perhaps he was right. The fame of "The Good Luck" spread +all over town; and, as Billy had said there would be, there were +many who persisted in calling the mine "The Nelly." Almost everybody +in Rosita knew Nelly by sight by this time; and it gave the mine +much greater interest in their eyes that it had been found by this +good, industrious little girl, whom everybody liked. Whenever Nelly +went to town now, people asked her about her mine. She always +answered:-- + +"It isn't my mine: it is my papa's." + +"But you found it," they would say. + +"I found the black hat it wore on its head," was Nelly's usual +reply: "that is all. Mr. Scholfield and Billy found the silver." + +It happened that it was nearly three weeks before Rob and Nelly went +to Mr. Kleesman's house again. They had now a new interest, which +made them hurry through with all they had to do in Rosita, so as to +have time on their way home to stop at "The Good Luck," and watch +Billy and Mr. Scholfield at work. It was an endless delight to them +to see the windlass wind, wind, wind, and watch the heavy bucket of +stone slowly coming up to the mouth of the hole. Then Billy would +let Rob take the bucket and empty it on the pile of shining gray ore +which grew higher and higher every day. Sometimes the children +stayed here so late that it was after dark when they reached home; +and at last Mrs. March told them that they must not go to the mine +every time they went to Rosita: it made their walk too long. She +said they might go only every other time. + +"Let's go Tuesdays," said Rob. + +"Why?" said Nelly. + +"It never seems half so long from Tuesday till Friday as it does +from Friday to Tuesday," said Rob. + +"Why, why not?" asked Nelly. + +"Oh, I don't know," said Rob. "Sunday's twice as long as any other +day: I guess that's it." + +"But you've got the Sunday each week," exclaimed Nelly: "it isn't +any shorter from Tuesday to Tuesday than from Friday to Friday: what +a silly boy! The Sunday comes in all the same. Don't you see?" + +Rob looked puzzled. + +"I don't care," he said "it seems ever so much shorter." + +The first day that they were not to go to the mine, Rob said:-- + +"See here, Nell: if we can't go to the mine, let's go and see old +Mr. Kleesman. His furnace must be done by this time. Perhaps he'll +be making an assay to-day." + +"Oh, good!" said Nelly. "I declare I'd almost forgotten all about +him: hadn't you?" + +"No, indeed!" said Rob: "I liked the mine better; but let's go there +to-day." + +"And we'll go and eat our lunch at Ulrica's too," said Nelly. "We +haven't taken it there for ever so long: she said so Tuesday. We'll +go to-day." + +"So we will," said Rob. "Perhaps she'll have stewed chicken." + +"Oh, for shame, Rob!" said Nelly. + +"What for?" said Rob: "I don't see any shame. Where's the shame?" + +"Shame to think about something to eat when you go to see people," +replied Nelly. + +"Now, Nell March, didn't you think of it, honest Indian?" said Rob. + +"Well, it's worse to say it," stammered Nelly. "Perhaps I did think +of it, just a little, little bit; but I always try not to." + +"Ha! ha! Miss Nell! I've caught you this time; and I don't think +it's a bit worse to say it: so, there! Stewed chicken! stewed +chicken!" And Rob danced along in front of Nelly, shouting the words +in her very face. Nelly could not help laughing, though she was +angry. + +"Rob," she said, "you can be the worst torment I ever saw." + +"That's only because you haven't had any other torment but me," +cried Rob, still dancing along backwards in front of Nelly. + +"Hullo! hullo!" said a loud, gruff voice just behind him: "don't run +me down, young man! Which side of the way will you have, or will you +have both?" + +Very much confused, Rob turned and found himself nearly in the arms +of an old man with rough clothes on, but with such a nice, +benevolent face that Rob knew he was not going to be angry with him. + +"I beg your pardon, sir," he said. "I didn't see you." + +"Naturally you didn't, since you have no eyes in the back of your +head," said the old man. "Do you always walk backwards, or is it +only when you are teasing your sister?" + +Nelly hastened to defend Rob. + +"Oh, sir," she said, "he was not really teasing me: he was only in +fun." + +The old man smiled and nodded. + +"That's right! that's right!" he said. + +They had just now reached Mr. Kleesman's steps. Rob sprang up, two +steps at a time. + +"What!" said the old man, "are you going in here? So am I." And they +all went in together. + +Mr. Kleesman was very glad to see Nelly. + +"I haf miss you for many days," he said. "Vy is it you not come more +to see assay?" + +"We have been very busy," said Nelly: "and have not stayed in town +any longer than we needed to sell our things." + +"I know! I know!" said Mr. Kleesman: "you haf been at the Goot Luck +mine!" + +"Why, who told you about it?" exclaimed Rob. + +"Ach!" said Mr. Kleesman, "you tink dat mines be to be hid in dis +town? Not von but knows of 'Goot Luck,' dat the little maid-child +haf found;" and he looked at Nelly and smiled affectionately. "And +not von but iss glad," he added, patting her on the head. + +Then he turned to the old man who had come in with the children, and +said, politely:-- + +"Vat can I do for you, sir?" + +The man took off his hat and sat down, and pulled out of his pocket +a little bag of stones, and threw it on the table. + +"Tell me if that's worth any thing," he said. + +Mr. Kleesman took a small stone out of the bag, and called:-- + +"Franz! Franz!" + +Franz was Mr. Kleesman's servant. He tended the fires, and pounded +up the stones fine in an iron mortar, and did all Mr. Kleesman's +errands. + +Franz came running; and Mr. Kleesman gave him the stone, and said +something to him in German. Franz took the stone, and disappeared in +the back room. + +"After he haf make it fine," said Mr. Kleesman, "I shall assay it +for you." Then, turning to Nelly and Rob, he said:-- + +"Can you stay? I make three assay now in three cups." + +"Yes, indeed, we can!" said Nelly: "thank you! That is what we came +for. We thought the furnace must be mended by this time." + +While Franz was pounding the stone, the old man told Mr. Kleesman +about his mine. Nelly listened with attentive ears to all he said: +but Rob was busy studying the pretty little brass scales in the +glass box. The man said that he and two other men had been at work +for some months at this mine. The other two men were sure the ore +was good; one of them had tried it with the blow-pipe, he said, and +got plenty of silver. + +"But I just made up my mind," said the man, "that, before I put any +more money in there, I'd come to somebody that knew. I ain't such a +sodhead as to think I can tell so well about things as a man that's +studied 'em all his life; and I asked all about, and they all said, +'Kleesman's the man: he'd give you an honest assay of his own mind +if he could get at it and weigh it.'" + +Mr. Kleesman laughed heartily. He was much pleased at this +compliment to his honesty. + +"Yes, I tell you all true," he said. "If it be bad, or if it be +good, I tell true." + +"That's what I want," said the man. + +Then Franz came in with the fine-powdered stone in a paper. Mr. +Kleesman took some of it and weighed it in the little brass scales. +Then he took some fine-powdered lead and weighed that. Then he mixed +the fine lead and the powdered stone together with a knife. + +"I take twelve times as much lead as there iss of the stone," he +said. + +"What is the lead for?" asked Nelly. + +"The lead he will draw out of the stone all that are bad: you will +see." + +Then he put the powdered stone and the lead he had mixed together +into a little clay cup, and covered it over with more of the +fine-powdered lead. Then he put in a little borax. + +"He helps it to melt," he said. + +Then he went through into the back room, carrying this cup and two +others which were standing on the table already filled with powder +ready to be baked. + +Rob and Nelly and the old man followed him. He opened the door of +the little oven and looked in: it was glowing red hot. Then he took +up each cup in tongs, and set it in the oven. When all three were +in, he took some burning coals from the fire above, and put them in +the mouth of the oven, in front of the cups. + +"Dat iss dat cold air from door do not touch dem," he said. Then he +shut the door tight, and said:-- + +"Now ve go back. Ve vait fifteen minute." + +He held his watch in his hand, so as not to make a mistake. When the +fifteen minutes were over he opened the oven-door to let a current +of cool air blow above the little cups. Nelly stood on a box, as she +had before, and looked in through the queer board with holes in it +for the eyes. The metal in the little cups was bubbling and as red +as fire. Rob tried to look, but the heat hurt his eyes so he could +not bear it. + +"Ven de cold air strike the cups," said Mr. Kleesman, "then the slag +are formed." + +"Oh, what is slag?" cried Rob. + +"All that are bad go into the slag," said Mr. Kleesman. + +Then he put on a pair of thick gloves, and a hat on his head, and +went close up to the fiery oven door, and took out the cups, and +emptied them into little hollow places in a sheet of zinc. The +instant the hot metal touched the cool zinc, it spread out into a +fiery red rose. + +"Oh, how lovely!" cried Nelly. + +"By jingo!" said Rob. + +Even while they were speaking, the bright red rose turned +dark,--hardened,--and there lay three shining buttons, flat and +round. Their rims looked like dark glass; and in their centres was a +bright, silvery spot. + +Mr. Kleesman took a hammer and pounded off all this dark, shining +rim. Then he pounded the little silvery buttons which were left into +the right shape to fit into some tiny little clay cups he had there. +They were shaped like a flower-pot, but only about an inch high. + +"Now these must bake one-half hour again," he said; and put them +into the oven. Pretty soon he opened the oven-door to let the cold +air in again, as he had done before. That would make all the lead go +off, he said: it would melt into the little cups, and leave nothing +but the pure silver behind. + +"Now vatch! vatch!" he said to Nelly. "In von minute you shall see a +flash in de cups, like lightning, just one second: it are de last of +de lead driven avay; den all is done." + +Nelly watched with all her might. Sure enough, flash! flash! flash! +in all three of the cups it went; the cups were fiery red; as Mr. +Kleesman took them out, they turned yellow; they looked like the +yolk of a hard-boiled egg hollowed out,--and there, in the bottom of +each, lay a tiny, tiny silver button! Mr. Kleesman carried them into +the front room and weighed them. Two of them were heavy enough to +more than weigh down the little button which was always kept in the +left-hand scale. That showed that the ore had silver enough in it to +make it worth while to work it. The third one was so small you could +hardly see it. That was the one which belonged to the old man. + +"You ore are not worth not'ing," said Mr. Kleesman to him. Nelly +looked sorrowfully at the old man's face; but he only smiled, and +said:-- + +"Well, that's just what I've suspicioned all along. I didn't believe +much in all that blow-pipe work. I'm out about a hundred +dollars,--that's all,--not counting my time any thing. It's the +time I grudge more'n the money. Much obliged to ye, sir." And the +philosophical old fellow handed out his three dollars to pay for the +assay, and walked off as composedly as if he had had good news +instead of bad. + +Nelly looked very grave. She was thinking of what her father had +said about Mr. Scholfield's blow-pipe. + +"Perhaps Mr. Scholfield was all wrong too, just like this other man. +Perhaps our mine isn't good for any thing." + +Nelly's face was so long that kind-hearted Mr. Kleesman noticed it, +and said:-- + +"You haf tired: it are too long that you look at too many t'ings. +You shall sit here and be quiet." + +"Oh, no, thank you," said Nelly: "I am not tired. I was only +thinking." + +Mr. Kleesman really loved Nelly, and it distressed him to see her +look troubled. He wanted to know what troubled her; but he did not +like to ask. He looked at her very sympathizingly, and did not say +any thing. + +"Is not a blow-pipe good for any thing to tell about silver?" said +Nelly, presently. + +"Oh, ho!" thought Mr. Kleesman to himself: "now I know what the +little wise maiden is thinking: it is her father's mine. It did not +escape her one word which this man said." + +But he replied to her question as if he had not thought any thing +farther. + +"Not very much: the blow-pipe cannot tell true. It tell part true; +not all true." + +Nelly sighed, and said:-- + +"Come, Rob: it is time for us to go. We are very much obliged to you +for letting us see the assay. It is the most wonderful thing I ever +saw. It is just like a fairy story. Come, Rob." + +Rob also thanked Mr. Kleesman; and they went slowly down the steps. + +"Stay! stay!" said Mr. Kleesman. "Little one, vill you not ask your +father that he send me some of the ore from the Goot Luck mine? I +shall assay it for you, and I vill tell you true how much silver +there should come from each ton, that you are not cheated at the +mill vere dey take your ore to make in de silver brick." + +Nelly ran back to Mr. Kleesman, and took his hand in hers. + +"Oh, thank you! thank you!" she said: "that was what I was thinking +about. I was thinking what if our mine should turn out like that +man's that was here this morning." + +"Oh, no: I t'ink not. Every von say it iss goot, very goot," said +Mr. Kleesman. "But I like to make assay. You tell your father I make +it for nothing: I make it for you." + +"I will tell him," said Nelly; "and I am sure he will be very glad +to have you do it. I will bring some of the ore next time. Good-by!" +And she and Rob ran off very fast, for it was past Ulrica's +dinner-time. + +When they reached the house it was shut up: the curtains down, and +the door locked. Ulrica had gone away for the day, to do washing at +somebody's house; and Jan had taken his dinner to the mill. The +children sat on the doorstep and ate their lunch, much disappointed. +Then they tried to think of some way to let Ulrica know they had +been there. + +"If we only had a card such as ladies used to leave for mamma when +she was away," said Rob, "that would be nice." + +"I'll tell you," said Nelly: "we'll prick our names on two of the +cottonwood leaves in the top of your hat: they'll do for cards." + +Rob always put a few green leaves in the top of his hat, to make his +head cool. It keeps out the heat of the sun wonderfully. One variety +of the cottonwood leaf is a smooth, shining leaf, about as large as +a lilac leaf, and much like it in shape. This was the kind Rob had +in his hat. Nelly picked out the two biggest ones, and then with a +pin she slowly pricked "Nelly" on one and "Rob" on the other. + +"There!" she said, when they were done: "aren't those nice cards? +Now I'll pin them on the door, close above the handle, so that +Ulrica can't open the door without seeing them." + +"What fun!" said Rob. "I say, Nell, you're a capital hand to think +of things." + +Nelly laughed. + +"Why, Rob," she said, "sometimes you find fault with me just because +I do 'think of things,' as you call it." + +"Oh, those are different things," said Rob. "You know what I mean: +bothers. Such things as these cards are fun." + +When Ulrica came home at night from her washing, she was very tired; +and she put her hand on the handle of her door and turned it almost +without looking, and did not at first see the green leaves. But, as +the door swung in, she saw them. + +"Ah, den! vat is dat?" she exclaimed. "Dem boys at deir mischiefs +again!" And she was about to tear the leaves down angrily, when she +caught sight of the fine-pricked letters. She looked closer, and +made out the word "Nelly;" then on the other one "Rob." + +"Ach! mine child! mine child!" she exclaimed. "She haf been here: +she make that the green leaf say her name to me. Mine blessed +child!" And Ulrica took the leaves and laid them away in a little +yellow carved box, in the shape of a tub, which she had brought from +Sweden. When Jan sat down at his supper, she took them out, and +laid them by his plate, and told him where she found them. Jan was +much pleased, and looked a long time curiously at the pricked +letters. Then he laid the leaves back in the box, and said to +Ulrica:-- + +"Why do you not make for the child a gown, such as the Swede child +wears, of the blue and the red? Think you not it would please her?" + +"Not to wear," said Ulrica. "She would not like that every one +should gaze." + +"Oh, no, not to wear for people to see," said Jan; "but to keep +because it is strange and different from the dress of this country. +The rich people that did come travelling to Sweden did all buy +clothes like the Swede clothes, to take home to keep and to show." + +"Yes! yes! I will!" exclaimed Ulrica, much delighted at the thought; +"but it shall have no buttons: we cannot find buttons." + +"Wilhelm Sachs will make them for me out of tin: that will do very +well, just for a show," said Jan. "It is not for money; but only +that they shine and be round." + +So after supper Ulrica took the roll of blue cloth out of the chest, +and began to measure off the breadths. + +"How tell you that it is right?" said Jan. + +"By my heart," said the loving Ulrica: "I know mine child her size +by my heart. It vill be right." + +But for all that it turned out that she cut the breadths too long, +and had to hem a deep hem at the bottom; which wasted some of the +cloth, and vexed Ulrica's economical soul. But we have not come to +that yet. We must go home with Nelly and Rob. + +Nelly had made up her mind not to tell her father any thing about +Mr. Kleesman's proposal to make the assay until she could see him +all alone; but she forgot to tell Rob not to speak of it; and they +had hardly taken their seats at the tea-table when Rob exclaimed:-- + +"Papa! don't you think Mr. Kleesman says a blow-pipe isn't good for +any thing to tell about silver with. And there was a man there +to-day, with ore out of his mine, and it hadn't any silver at all in +it,--not any to speak of,--and he thought it was splendid: he and +two other men; they had tried it with a blow-pipe." + +Mr. Scholfield was taking tea with the Marches this night. He +listened with a smile to all Rob said. Then he said:-- + +"That's just like Kleesman. He thinks nobody but he can tell any +thing. It's the money he's after. I see through him. Now I know I +can make as good an assay with my blow-pipe as he can with all his +little cups and saucers and gimcracks, any day." + +Nelly grew very red. She did not like to hear Mr. Kleesman so spoken +of. She opened her mouth to speak: then bit her lips, and remained +quiet. + +"What is it, Nelly?" said her father. + +"Nothing, sir," replied Nelly: "only I don't think Mr. Kleesman is +like that. He is very kind." + +"Oh, yes, he's kind enough," said Mr. Scholfield: "he's a +good-natured fellow. But it's all moonshine about his being the only +one who can make assays. There's a plenty of mines working here +to-day that haven't ever had any assay made except by the blow-pipe. +There's no use in paying a fellow three or four or five dollars for +doing what you can do yourself." + +"But that man said--" began Rob. + +"Be quiet now, Rob," said Mr. March. "We won't talk any more about +it now." + +After Mr. Scholfield had gone away, Mr. March called Nelly out of +the room. + +"Come walk up and down in the lane with me, Nell," he said, "and +tell me all about what happened at Mr. Kleesman's." + +Then Nelly told her father all about it, from beginning to end. + +"Upon my word, Nell," he said, "you seem to have studied the thing +carefully. I should think you could almost make an assay yourself." + +"I guess I could if I had the cups and things," said Nelly: "I +recollect every thing he did. But, papa, won't you let him take some +ore from our mine, and let him see if it is good by his way? He +won't ask us any thing: he said he was doing it every day, and he +could put in one more cup as well as not. Oh, do, papa!" + +"I'll think about it," said Mr. March. + +That night he talked it over with Mrs. March, and she was as anxious +as Nelly that he should let Mr. Kleesman make the assay. This +decided Mr. March; and the next morning he said to Nelly:-- + +"Well, Nelly, you shall have your way,--you and mamma. I will take +some of the ore to your old friend. I shall go up with you to-morrow +myself, and carry it. I do not like to send it by you." + +"Oh, good! good!" cried Nelly, and jumped up and down, and ran away +to find Rob and tell him that their father would walk into town with +them the next day. + +When Nelly walked into Mr. Kleesman's room, holding her father by +the hand, she felt very proud. She had always thought her father +handsomer and nicer to look at than any other man in the world; and, +when she said to Mr. Kleesman, "Here is my father, sir," this pride +was so evident in her face that it made Mr. Kleesman laugh. It did +not make him love Nelly any less, however. It only made him think +sadly of the little girl way off in Germany, who would have just as +much pride in his face as Nelly did in her father's. Mr. Kleesman's +love for Nelly made him treat Mr. March like an old friend. + +"I am glad to see you here," he said. "I haf for your little girl +von great friendship: she iss so goot. I say often to myself, she +haf goot father, goot mother. She iss not like American childs I haf +seen." + +Mr. March was glad to have Nelly liked; but he did not wish to have +her praised in this open way. So he said, very quickly:-- + +"Yes, Nelly is a good girl. I have come to talk to you, Mr. +Kleesman, about our mine: perhaps you have heard of it,--'The Good +Luck.'" + +"Yes: I hear it is goot mine, very goot," replied Mr. Kleesman. "I +ask the child to bring me ore. I assay it for you. It vill be +pleasure to me." + +"That is what I was going to ask you to do," said Mr. March. "I +would like to know the exact truth about it before I go any farther. +Scholfield is pressing me to put in machinery; but I do not like to +spend money on it till I am sure." + +"Dat iss right," said Mr. Kleesman. "Vait! vait! It is always safe +to vait. Haf you brought with you the ore?" + +"Yes, I have it here," replied Mr. March, and took a small bag of it +from his pocket. Mr. Kleesman examined it very carefully. His face +did not look cheerful. He took piece after piece out of the bag, +and, after examining them, tossed them on the table with a +dissatisfied air. + +"Is it all as dis?" he said. + +"Yes, about like that," replied Mr. March. + +Nelly watched Mr. Kleesman's face breathlessly. + +"I know he don't think it is good," she whispered to Rob. + +"I cannot tell till I make assay," said Mr. Kleesman. "But I t'ink +it not so very good. To-morrow I vill know. To-day I cannot do. I +send you vord." + +"Oh, no, you need not take that trouble," said Mr. March. "The +children will be in day after to-morrow. They can call." + +"No, I send you vord," repeated Mr. Kleesman. "I send you vord. Dere +are plenty vays. I send you vord to-morrow night. Alvays men go past +my door down to valley. I send you vord." + +"What do you suppose is the reason he did not want us to call for +it?" said Rob, as they walked down street. + +"I know," said Nelly. + +"What?" said Rob, sulkily. His pride was a little touched at Mr. +Kleesman's having so evidently preferred to send the message by some +one else rather than by them. + +"Because," said Nelly, "he is so kind he doesn't want to tell us to +our face the mine isn't good." + +"Oh, Nell!" exclaimed Rob, in a tone of distress, "do you think it's +that?" + +"I know it's that," said Nelly, calmly. "It couldn't be any thing +else: you'll see. He doesn't believe that ore's good for any thing. +I know by his face he doesn't. I've seen him look so at ore before +now." + +"Oh, Nell!" cried Rob, "what'll we do if it turns out not to be good +for any thing?" + +"Do!" said Nelly; "why, we shall do just what we did before. But I'm +awful sorry I ever told papa about the old thing. It's too mean!" + +"We haven't spent any money on it: that's one good thing," said Rob. + +"Yes," said Nelly; "and it's lucky we happened in at Mr. Kleesman's +just when we did: there was some good luck in that, if there isn't +any in the mine." + +"But I don't see why you're so sure, Nell," cried Rob: "Mr. Kleesman +said he couldn't tell till he tried it." + +"Well, I _am_ sure," said Nelly; "just as sure's any thing. I know +Mr. Kleesman thinks it isn't good for any thing; and if he thinks so +just by looking at the stone, won't he think so a great deal more +when he has burnt all the bad stuff away?" + +"Well, anyhow, I shan't give up till he send 'vord,' as he calls +it," said Rob. "I guess it'll be good for a little if it isn't for +much. Everybody says Mr. Scholfield knows all about mines." + +"You'll see!" was all Nelly replied; and she trudged along with a +very grave and set look on her face. Mr. March was to stay in town +later, to see some farmers who were coming in from the country: so +the children had a lonely walk home. They stopped only a moment at +Ulrica's and at Lucinda's; and both Ulrica and Lucinda saw that +something was wrong. But Nelly had cautioned Rob to say nothing +about the ore, and she herself said nothing about it; and so the two +faithful hearts that loved them could only wonder what had happened +to cloud the usually bright little faces. + +When it drew near to sunset, the time at which the farmers who had +been up into Rosita usually returned into the valley, Rob and Nelly +went down the lane to the gate, to watch for the messenger from Mr. +Kleesman. The sun set, and the twilight deepened into dusk, and no +messenger came. Several farm wagons passed; and, as each one +approached, the children's hearts began to beat quicker, thinking +that the wagon would stop, and the man would hand out a letter; but +wagon after wagon passed,--and no letter. At last Nelly said:-- + +"It is so dark we really must go in, Rob. I don't believe it's +coming to-night." + +"Perhaps his furnace is broken again, and he couldn't do it to-day," +said Rob. + +"Perhaps so," said Nelly, drearily. "Oh, dear! I wish the old mine +was in Guinea. Weren't we happier without it, Rob?" + +"Yes, lots!" said Rob; "and we're making a good lot of money off the +butter and eggs and trout. I don't care about the old mine." + +"I do!" said Nelly: "if it was a good mine--if it were a good mine, +I mean, because then we could all have every thing we want, and papa +wouldn't have to work. But I know this mine isn't a good one, and I +ain't ever going to look for another 's long as I live. Nor I won't +tell of one, if I find it, either!" + +"Pshaw, Nell! don't be a goose," said Rob. "If this one isn't good +for any thing, it don't prove that the next one won't be. I'll find +all I can, and try 'em one after the other." + +"Well, you may: I won't!" said Nelly. + +Bedtime came: still no letter. All through the evening, the children +were listening so closely for the sound of wheels, that they could +not attend to any thing else. Even Mr. March found it rather hard to +keep his thoughts from wandering down the lane in expectation of the +message from Rosita. But it did not come; and the whole family +finally went to bed with their suspense unrelieved. + +The next morning, while they were sitting at breakfast, and not +thinking about the message at all, a man knocked at the door and +handed in a letter. He had brought it from Rosita the night before, +but had forgotten all about it, he said, till he was a mile past the +house; and he thought as he would be going in again early in the +morning, it would do as well to bring it then. + +"Oh, certainly, certainly!" said Mr. March: "it was not on any +pressing business. Much obliged to you, sir. Sit down and have some +breakfast with us: won't you?" + +The man was an old bachelor,--a Mr. Bangs,--who lived alone on a +farm some six miles north of Mr. March's. He looked longingly at the +nice breakfast, and said to Mrs. March:-- + +"Well, I had what I called a breakfast before I left home; but your +coffee does smell so tempting, I think I'll take a cup,--since +you're so kind." + +Then he drew up a chair and sat down, and began to eat and drink as +if he had just come starved from a shipwreck. + +Mr. March laid the letter down by his plate, and went on talking +with Mr. Bangs as politely as if he had nothing else to do. + +Rob and Nelly looked at the letter; then at each other; then at +their father and mother: Rob fidgeted on his chair. Finally, Nelly +put down her knife and fork, and said she did not want any more +breakfast. Mrs. March could hardly keep from laughing to see the +children's impatience, though she felt nearly as impatient herself. +At last she said to the children:-- + +"You may be excused, children. Run out into the barn and see if you +can find any eggs!" Rob and Nelly darted off, only too glad to be +free. + +"Did you ever see such a pig!" exclaimed Rob. "He'd had his +breakfast at home. I don't see what made papa ask him!" + +"He ate as if he were half starved," said Nelly. "I guess old +bachelors don't cook much that's good. Oh! I do wish he'd hurry." + +Mr. Bangs had no idea of hurrying. It was a long time since he had +tasted good home-made bread and butter and coffee, and he knew it +would be a still longer time before he tasted them again. He almost +wished he had two stomachs, like a camel, and could fill them both. +At last, when he really could eat no more, and Mrs. March had poured +for him the last drop out of the coffee-pot, he went away. The +children were watching in the barn to see him go. As soon as he had +passed the barn-door, they scampered back to the house. + +Their father had the open letter under his hand, on the table. He +was looking at their mother, and there were tears in her eyes. He +turned to the children, and said, in a voice which he tried hard to +make cheerful:-- + +"Well, Nelly, are you ready for bad news?" + +"Oh, yes!" interrupted Nelly, "indeed I am, all ready. I knew it +would be bad news! I knew it when we were at Mr. Kleesman's." + +"Pshaw!" said Rob, and sat down in a chair, and twirled his hat over +and over between his knees: "I don't care! I'm going fishing." And +he jumped up suddenly, and ran out of the room. + +Mrs. March laughed in spite of herself. + +"That is to hide how badly he feels," she said. "Let's all go +fishing." + +Nelly did not laugh. She stood still by the table, leaning on it. + +"It's all my fault," she said. "If I hadn't found the mine, we +shouldn't have had all this trouble." + +"Why, child, this isn't trouble," exclaimed her father; "don't feel +so. Of course we're all a little disappointed." + +"A good deal!" interrupted Mrs. March, smiling. + +"Yes, a good deal," he continued; "but we won't be unhappy long +about it. We're no worse off than we were before. And there's one +thing: we are very lucky to have got out of it so soon,--before we +had put any money into it." + +"What does Mr. Kleesman say?" asked Nelly. + +"He says that there is a little silver in the ore, but not enough to +make it pay to work the mine," replied her father; "and he says that +he is more sorry to say this than he has ever been before in his +life to say that ore was not good. I will read you the letter." + +Then Mr. March read the whole letter aloud to Nelly. The last +sentence was a droll one. Mr. Kleesman said:-- + +"I have for your little girl so great love that I do wish she may +never have more sorrow as this." + +"What does he mean, papa?" asked Nelly. + +"Why, he means that he hopes this disappointment about the mine will +be the most serious sorrow you will ever know: that nothing worse +will ever happen to you," replied Mr. March. + +"Oh," said Nelly, "is that it? I couldn't make it mean any thing. +Well, I hope so too." + +"So do I," said Mrs. March. + +"And I," said Mr. March. "And if nothing worse ever does happen to +us than to think for a few weeks we have found a fortune, and then +to find that we haven't, we shall be very lucky people." + +So they all tried to comfort each other, and to conceal how much +disappointed they really were; but all the time, each one of them +was very unhappy, and knew perfectly well that all the rest were +too. Mr. March was the unhappiest of the four. He had made such fine +plans for the future: how he would send Rob and Nelly to school at +the East; build a pretty new house; have a nice, comfortable +carriage; have Billy and Lucinda come back to live with them; buy +all the books he wanted. Poor Mr. March! it was a very hard thing to +have so many air-castles tumble down all in one minute! + +Mrs. March did not mind it so much, because she had never from the +beginning had very firm faith in the mine. And for Rob and Nelly it +was not nearly so hard, for they had not made any definite plans of +what they would like to do; and they were so young that each day +brought them new pleasures in their simple life. Still it was a +great disappointment even to them, and I presume would have made +them seem less cheerful and contented for a long time, if something +had not happened the very next day to divert their minds and give +them plenty to think about. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE + + +Ever since they had lived in the valley, it had been Nelly's habit, +when she got up in the morning, to go at once to the eastern window +in her room and look out at Pike's Peak. She loved the mountain now +just as much as she had when she first saw it; and her first thought +in the morning always was:-- + +"I wonder if Pike is clear." + +The next morning after Mr. Kleesman's letter came, Nelly slept late. +She had been out all the day before with Rob, who had fished far +down the creek, and led her a long, hard chase through the grape +thickets and wet meadows. They had caught two basketsful of trout, +which were pretty heavy to lug home; and both Rob and Nelly were so +tired that they went to bed the minute they had eaten supper, and +hardly spoke while they were undressing. When Nelly waked, she knew +by the light in her room that it must be late. She sprang up and ran +to the window. As soon as she looked out, she exclaimed "Why!" and +rubbed her eyes and looked again. She could not believe what she +saw. + +"Rob! Rob!" she called. But Rob was fast asleep, and did not hear +her. She slipped her feet into her slippers, and ran into his room +(he slept in a tiny room opening out of hers: it was not much bigger +than a closet, and only held a little narrow bed and one chair). + +"Rob! Rob!" she said, shaking him, "get up! Come look out of the +window." + +"You let me be," said Rob, sleepily: "what is it?" + +"Tents! Rob, tents! Four splendid great tents, right close to the +wheat-barn. Do get up! Who do you suppose it is?" + +"Tents!" cried Rob, as wide awake in one second as if the house were +on fire, "tents! hurrah! I hope it's those men with instruments that +came last summer. I'm going right down to see." And Rob bounced out +of bed, and began to toss his clothes on at a furious rate. Nelly +also made great haste; and, in less time than you would have thought +possible, the two children were dressed and out in the lane, walking +toward the tents. When they got there, they had had their walk for +their pains: the tents were all closed up tight,--not a sign of life +about one of them. Rob and Nelly walked round and round, like two +little spies, trying to find out some sign by which they could tell +what sort of people had come into their territory; but they could +not. + +"I know one thing," said Rob: "they've got splendid wagons and +horses." There were six fine horses grazing in the field; and there +was a nice covered carriage, besides the heavy white-topped wagon. + +"What do you suppose the other two horses are for?" said Nelly. +"They don't have four to draw the wagon: do they?" + +"I guess they're horses to ride," said Rob: "one of them isn't much +bigger than a pony. Oh, dear! I think they're real lazy people not +to get up." And Rob and Nelly walked back to the house quite +discontented. When they told their mother about the tents, she +said:-- + +"Oh, yes, I know it. The party came late last night, after you had +gone to bed. They sent up to the house for milk; they were very +tired; they had come all the way from Canyon City. There's a little +lame boy in the party; and the motion of the carriage hurts him. He +was quite sick last night, the nurse said." + +"Oh!" said Nelly: "poor little fellow! That's the reason they +weren't up, then. I'm real sorry for him. Can't we go down there, by +and by, and see him?" + +"Yes, I think so," said her mother: "this afternoon, perhaps." + +Rob and Nelly sat down on the barn-doorsteps, and watched the tents. +It seemed a long time before anybody stirred. At last, a man came +out of the tent which was nearest the barn. He stood still for a +minute, looking up and down the valley. Then he gave a great stretch +and yawned very loud, and walked off towards the field where the +horses were. + +"That's their man," said Rob: "he's going to water the horses. I +mean to go and talk to him." + +"Oh, no, don't!" said Nelly: "let's see who comes out next." + +In a few minutes more, there came out of the next tent a stout +woman, with a white cap on her head. The cap had thick fluted +ruffles all round the front. + +"Oh! what a funny cap!" said Rob. "That must be the little boy's +mother." + +"No," said Nelly, "I don't think so. I think that's the nurse. Mamma +said there was a nurse." + +"Oh, yes!" said Rob; "she must be the nurse." + +The nurse stood looking, just as the man had, up and down the +valley. Nobody could see that beautiful view without wanting to +stand still and look at it. + +"She's looking at Pike now," said Nelly. "I wonder if she ever saw +such a mountain before." + +The woman stood a long time without moving: then she turned and +walked slowly back to the tent. As she walked she kept looking back +over her shoulder at the mountains. + +"Ah! ah!" said Nelly; "see how she looks at the mountains!" + +"I should think she would," said Rob. "But I wish the boy'd come +out." + +The nurse went into the tent; and presently came out, bringing a +chair all folded up into a flat shape: this she set down on the +ground in the shadow of the tent, and unfolded it, and kept on +unfolding it, till it was about as long as a lounge. + +"Hullo!" said Rob, "what sort of a chair is that?" + +"For the sick boy, I guess," said Nelly. "It's a kind of bed." + +Then the nurse brought out pillows and blankets, and put them in it, +and then she brought out two pretty bright rugs, and spread them +down, one in front of the chair and one at its side. Next she +brought out a little table, and set it close to the chair. On this +she spread a white cloth. + +"I guess he's going to have his breakfast on that," said Nelly. + +Then the woman went into the tent, and did not come back again. In a +few minutes another man came out of the tent out of which the first +man had come. This man did not look about him at all. He ran to the +place where the stove stood, and began making a fire in a great +hurry. + +"Oh, ho!" cried Rob: "two men! I say, Nell, they must be awfully +rich folks. They've got a cook, and a driver, besides the nurse. I +wish that boy'd come out." + +"I guess if he's sick he won't get up early," said Nelly. "Don't you +remember how you used to have to lie in bed when we were at home, +Rob?" + +"Oh, my! I guess I do!" said Rob. "Wasn't it horrid! I'd as +lief die as be like that again. I haven't been sick once since we came +to Colorado: have I, Nell?" + +"No," said Nelly. "Don't you remember you used to say I ought to be +sick half the time: it wasn't fair for me not to be sick any and for +you to be sick all the time?" + +"Did I?" said Rob: "that was real mean of me. I wouldn't say so +now." + +While they were talking, they suddenly saw the nurse come out again, +and call the cook. He went in to the tent with her, and, in a moment +more, they came out again, bringing in their arms a little boy about +Rob's size. + +"Oh, goodness!" cried Rob: "can't he walk? Pshaw! I hoped he'd go +fishing with me! He won't be any fun." + +"Why, Rob March!" exclaimed Nelly: "you're a selfish thing. How'd +you like to be lame like that and not have anybody sorry for you?" + +"Why, Nell, I am real sorry for him: I mean I expect I should be if +I knew him; but I did hope he'd go round some with me. I haven't had +a boy since we came to Colorado." + +Nelly looked hurt. + +"I'm sure I go everywhere that you do," she said. "You don't ever +have to be alone." + +"I know it, Nell," replied Rob, meekly: "you're as good as any girl +can be,--lots better than most girls; but a boy's different. You'd +like a girl sometimes yourself: you know you would." + +"I wouldn't either," retorted Nelly: "I'd rather have you than any +girl in the whole world." + +The little sick boy had sharper eyes than the nurse had. She had not +seen the two children sitting on the barn-doorsteps: but the boy +spied them in a minute, and said to his nurse:-- + +"There are a boy and a girl sitting in that barn-door. Give me my +opera-glass: I want to see what they're like." + +Then Nelly and Rob saw the boy lift up a round thing to his eyes, +and point it at them. + +"He's looking at us, Rob," said Nelly, "through that thing: I saw a +gentleman have one in the cars. I shall go away: I don't want him to +look at us." + +"Stop!" said Rob: "he's put it down. He's talking to his nurse." + +This is what the boy was saying:-- + +"Flora, please go across there and ask that boy to come here: I want +to see him. Tell him I'm sick. I want to ask him if there are any +birds here,--if he can't get me a lark." + +"Now, Master Arthur," the nurse replied, "you just wait till your +mamma gets up, and ask her. Perhaps she wouldn't want you to have +that boy play with you." + +"You go along this minute," said Arthur, beginning to cry: "if you +don't I'll cry. You know the doctor said I was not to be crossed in +any thing. You go along, quick! Stay! you tell them both to come +here." + +The nurse walked away, muttering under her breath: + +"And a fine life ye'll lead them, if ye get them under your thumb, +to be sure! It's a thousand pities you ever heard that speech of the +doctor's, you poor thing." + +"She's coming over here, Rob," said Nelly, as she saw the woman +walking in their direction: "what do you suppose she wants?" + +"Milk or eggs, I guess," said Rob. "I can get her some splendid +fresh eggs right behind this door. Old Spotty's got her nest in +there now. The weasels got into her old nest and she won't lay there +any more." + +When the nurse reached the door, she said very politely to the +children:-- + +"Good morning, children. Do you live here?" + +"No, ma'am," said Rob, gravely. + +Nelly looked at him indignantly. + +"Why, Rob!" she began. But Rob went on:-- + +"Our oxen and cows and hens live here: we live in the house over +yonder." + +Nelly laughed out, and so did the nurse. + +"You have a droll tongue in your head, my boy," she said. "I came to +ask you if you wouldn't come over to the tent there and see Master +Arthur. He's in the chair there: see him? He's lame: he can't walk." + +"What's the matter with him?" asked Nelly. "Was he always lame?" + +"Oh, no!" said the nurse: "he got a fall when he was about six years +old, and he's been lame ever since: he's twelve now. But I must go +right back: he don't like to be alone a minute. Will you come +across?" + +Rob looked at Nelly. + +"Mamma said we might go this afternoon," he said: "do you think +she'd care if we went now?" + +"We'd better go and ask her," answered Nelly. "You tell the little +boy we've gone to ask our mother if we may come," she said to the +nurse, and ran off with Rob to the house as fast as feet could go. + +The nurse looked after them, and sighed. + +"Well, those are well-brought-up children, whosever they are, to be +found out in this wilderness. Oh, but I'd like to see Master Arthur +run like that." + +Flora had been little Arthur's nurse ever since he was a baby; and, +though she was often out of patience with him, she loved him dearly. +When she went back and told him what the children said, he muttered +fretfully:-- + +"Oh, dear! they needn't have gone to ask. Can't they go two steps +without getting leave? I should think they were babies. They looked +as old as I am." + +"They're older, Master Arthur," replied Flora. "I think they are as +much as thirteen: the girl is, at any rate." + +"Is the boy nice?" asked Arthur. + +Flora laughed. + +"He's funny," she replied. And then she told Arthur what Rob had +said when she asked him if he and his sister lived there. + +Arthur smiled faintly: he hardly ever laughed. His back ached all +the time, so that he could very seldom forget it; and this constant +pain made him very nervous and irritable. + +"You go up to the house and ask their mother to let them come," he +said. + +"Well, dear," Flora replied, "I will, if they don't come in a few +minutes. But I'm sure they'll come, for they said their mother had +told them they might come this afternoon; and I'm sure she'll let +them come now instead." + +"They can come in the afternoon too," said Arthur. "I want them all +the time." + +"Well, well: I dare say they'll like to stay with you, and read your +books, and see your things, very much," said Flora. + +"I'll show them my microscope," said Arthur: "that's the only thing +I've got that's good for any thing. The books are no good." + +Just now the cook came up, bringing Arthur's breakfast on a tray. It +looked very nice: milk-toast, and baked apples, and poached eggs, +and a cup of nice cocoa. It was wonderful what good things Ralph +used to cook, in that little bit of a camp stove, out of doors. +Ralph had lived in the family as long as Flora, and loved poor +Arthur just as well as she did. It was into the area in front of the +basement that Arthur had fallen when he got his terrible hurt; and +Ralph had picked him up and carried him upstairs in his arms, +thinking all the way that he was dead. Ralph often said that he'd +never forget that time,--not if he should live to be a thousand +years old! He often told the story to people they met on their +journeys. Everybody took an interest in poor Arthur, and wanted to +know how he came to be so lame; but nobody liked to ask his father +or mother: so they would ask Flora or Ralph. Ralph was an +Englishman, and he had a very queer pronunciation of all words +beginning with _h_. He dropped the _h_'s off such words, and he put +them on to other words; which made his sentences sound very queer +indeed. + +"It was just about height o'clock," he would say, "an' I'd just in +my 'and the 'ot water for the master's shaving; an' Thomas 'ee was a +takin' hof it out o' my 'and, when we 'ears such a screech, such a +screech, and the missus she come a flyin' hover the stairs,--I'm +blessed hif 'er feet so much as lighted hon 'em,--an' she screeching +screechin', an' 'ollerin'; an' the same minute I 'ears a noise to +the front o' the 'ouse, an' a perliceman a knockin' at the airy +door, an' the missus she got to't fust; an' if it wan't a meracle +wat was it, for 'er to 'ave come down two flights o' 'igh stairs in +less time than I could 'urry across the 'all? An' I takes Master +Harthur out o' the perliceman's 'ands; an' 'is little 'ead a 'anging +down 's if 't 'a' been snapped off. Oh! if it seemed one minute +afore I got 'im hup to the nursery it seemed a 'undred years; an' +the missus she was never 'erself again,--not till she died. She +allers said as 'ow she'd killed 'im 'erself. You see 'ee was all +alone with 'er in 'er bedroom, an' she never noticed that 'ee 'ad +gone to the window. She was never 'erself again,--never: she'd sit +an' look at 'im, an' look at 'im, an' the tears'd run down 'er face +faster'n rain. But she couldn't 'old a candle to this missus, in no +respects: not to my way o' thinkin'. It's a 'ard thing to say of +'er, bein' she's dead; but it's my 'onest opinion that she's better +in 'eaven than hearth, an' all parties better suited." + +This was Ralph's story of the accident, and he told it wherever they +went. Every one was much surprised to hear that Mrs. Cook was not +Arthur's own mother; for no own mother could have shown more +patience and love than she did. She had never left Arthur for a +whole day or a whole night since she became his mother; and it +seemed as if she really thought of little else except how to invent +some new thing to amuse him, and keep him from remembering his pain. + +Just as Arthur had begun to eat his breakfast, he looked up and saw +Rob and Nelly coming out of the door of the house. He pushed away +his plate, and cried:-- + +"Take it away! take it away! I won't eat another mouthful. That boy +and girl are coming. Take it away!" + +"Oh, Master Arthur," said Flora: "indeed you must eat some more. +You'll never get well if you don't eat." + +"I won't! I won't! I tell you take it away," screamed Arthur. "I am +not hungry. I hate it!" + +Poor Arthur never was really hungry. + +"Your mamma will be very unhappy when she comes out if you have not +eaten any thing," said Flora. + +Arthur's face fell. + +"Well, give me the cocoa, then, quick!" he said: "I'll drink that, +just to please mamma: that's all. She don't make me eat when I don't +want to." + +At that moment Mrs. Cook came out of her tent, and hurried to +Arthur's chair. + +"My darling," she said, "mamma was a lazy mamma, wasn't she, this +morning? Have you had a nice breakfast? Papa will be out in a +minute." + +"Mamma! mamma!" cried Arthur, "see that boy and girl, the other side +of the fence: they're coming over to see me. I sent Flora after +them. I wish they'd hurry. Don't they walk slow?" + +Mrs. Cook looked inquiringly at Flora, who explained that Master +Arthur had spied the children sitting in the barn-door, and that +nothing would do but she must go over and ask them to come and see +him. + +"They seem to be most uncommon nice-spoken children for these parts, +ma'am," said Flora; "and the little girl she wouldn't come, nor let +her brother come, till she'd gone into the house and asked leave of +their mother." + +Mrs. Cook was gazing very earnestly at the children, as they walked +slowly towards the tent. In a moment more she sprang to her feet, +and took two or three steps forward, and exclaimed, "Why, it is! it +is my little Nelly!" and, to Arthur's great astonishment, he saw his +mother run very fast to meet the children, and throw her arms round +the little girl's neck, and kiss her over and over again. + +Nelly was so astonished and bewildered she did not know what to do. +She could not see the face of the lady who was kissing her for she +held her so tight she could not look up; and, when she did look up, +she did not at first know who the lady was. + +"Why, Nelly, Nelly!" she cried; "have you forgotten me? Don't you +remember I came on in the same car with you? Why! I've been looking +for you and asking for you all over Colorado." + +Then Nelly remembered; but still she looked bewildered. + +"Oh, yes! Mrs. Williams. I remember you very, very well," she said; +"but you don't look a bit as you used to." + +"Come here! come here!" shouted Arthur; "come right here, all of +you! Mamma, who is this girl, and what makes you kiss her?" + +Arthur had been so long used to being the only child, and having all +his mother's affection showered upon him, that he really felt +uncomfortable to see her kiss another child. + +"Why, Arthur! Arthur!" exclaimed his mother, leading Nelly and Rob +towards him; "don't speak so. These are old friends of mamma's that +she knew before she ever saw you. Don't you recollect my telling +you about the little boy in the cars, that threw away the onions, +and the little girl that had the nice wax doll all broken in the +crowd? These are those very same children; and isn't it wonderful +that we should have found them here? I am very glad to see them: +Nelly, Rob, this is my little boy, Arthur, and he will be more glad +to know you than you can possibly imagine; for he can't run about as +you do. He has to lie in this chair all day." + +While she was speaking, Arthur had been looking very steadily at +Rob. He did not take much notice of Nelly. As soon as his mother +stopped speaking, Arthur said to Rob:-- + +"How do you do? Mamma told me all about your throwing away the man's +onions ever so long ago, and I used to make her tell me over and +over and over again, till she said it was almost as bad as having +onions in the house. Didn't you have fun when you did it?" and +Arthur laughed harder than he had been seen to laugh for a long +time. + +"Why, no!" said Rob; "I don't think it was much fun. I don't +remember much about it now; but I know I felt awfully mean: you see +I felt like a thief when the man began to look for his onions." + +Nelly was standing still, close to her new-found friend. She was +thoroughly bewildered; she looked from Mrs. Williams to Arthur, and +from Arthur to Mrs. Williams, and did not know what to make of it +all: and no wonder. When Mrs. Williams bade Nelly good-by in Denver +three years before, she was a thin, pale lady, dressed in the +deepest black, and with a face so sad it made you feel like crying +to look at her. She wore a widow's cap close around her face, and a +long, black veil; and she was all alone with her nurse; and she had +no little boy. Now she was a stout, rosy-faced lady; and she wore a +bright, dark-blue cloth gown, looped up over a scarlet petticoat; +and on her head she wore a broad-brimmed straw hat with scarlet +poppies and blue bachelor's buttons round the crown. At last Nelly +could not contain her perplexity any longer. + +"Oh! Mrs. Williams," she exclaimed; "what does make you so pretty +now?" + +"That isn't my mamma's name," cried Arthur; "her name is Mrs. Cook. +Wasn't she pretty when you saw her in the cars? She's always pretty +now." + +Mrs. Williams laughed very hard, and told Nelly she did not wonder +that she was surprised to see her look so differently. + +"I often think, when I look in the glass now," she said, "that I +shouldn't know my own self, if I hadn't seen myself since three +years ago." + +Then she led Nelly to one side, and explained to her that she had +met Arthur and his papa up at Idaho Springs, where she had gone +immediately after leaving Nelly in Denver. Mr. Cook had taken Arthur +there, to see if the water in the Idaho Springs would not cure his +lameness. They had all lived in the same hotel at Idaho all winter, +and in the spring Mrs. Williams had been married to Mr. Cook, and +had thus become Arthur's mother. Mr. Cook's home was in New York; +but they had come to Colorado every summer for Arthur's sake. He +always was much better in Colorado. While they were talking, Mr. +Cook came out of his tent; and surprised enough he looked to see his +wife sitting on the ground with a little stranger girl in her lap, +and Arthur in eager conversation with a boy he had never seen +before. He stood still on the threshold of the tent for a moment, +looking in astonishment at the scene. + +"Oh, Edward! Edward!" exclaimed Mrs. Cook, "this is my little +friend! Think of our having found her at last, down in this valley!" + +"Is it possible!" said Mr. Cook. "Why, I am as glad to see you, my +little girl, as if I were your own uncle. I didn't know but I should +have to go journeying all about the world, like my famous ancestor, +Captain Cook, to find you; for my wife has never given up talking +about you since I have known her." + +Mr. Cook was so tall and so big Nelly felt half afraid of him. He +was as tall as Long Billy, and twice as big: he had a long, thick +beard, of a beautiful brown color, and his eyes were as blue as the +sky. Nelly thought he looked like one of the pictures, in a +picture-book Rob had, of "Three Giant Kings from the North who came +Over the Sea." But when he smiled you did not feel afraid of him; +and his voice was so good and true and kind that everybody trusted +him and liked him as soon as he spoke. + +"Was Captain Cook really an ancestor of yours?" asked Nelly, +eagerly. + +"Oh!" cried Rob, bounding away from Arthur, and looking up with +reverence into this tall man's face, "are you a relation of Captain +Cook? Have you got any of his things? Did you know him? Did he ever +tell you about his voyage? We've got the book about them: I know +everywhere he went." + +Mr. Cook lifted Rob up in his arms, and tossed him over his +shoulders, and whirled round with him, and set him down on the +ground again, before he answered. This was a thing Mr. Cook loved to +do to boys of Rob's size. Boys of that age are not used to being +picked up and tossed like babies; but Mr. Cook was so strong he +could toss a big boy as easily as you or I could a little baby. + +"No, sir, I am not a relative of Captain Cook's, so far as I know, +nor of any other Cook, except of all good cooks: I am a first cousin +and great friend and lover of all good cooks," shouted this jolly, +tall man, whose very presence seemed like sunshine. "Ralph, you +cook of cooks and for all the Cooks, is our breakfast ready?" + +Ralph chuckled with inward laughter as he tried to answer with a +quiet propriety. Long as he had lived with Mr. Cook, he had never +grown accustomed to his droll ways. + +Rob and Nelly looked on with amazement. This was a sort of man they +had never seen. + +"Oh, I wish papa was like this," thought Rob: in the next second he +was ashamed and sorry for the thought. But from that moment he had a +loving admiration for Mr. Cook, which was about as strong as his +love for his own father. + +As soon as Mr. and Mrs. Cook had eaten their breakfast, they walked +up to the house with Nelly. Rob stayed behind with Arthur, entirely +absorbed in the microscope. Nelly's feet seemed hardly to touch the +ground: she was so excited in the thought of taking Mrs. Cook to see +her mother. She utterly forgot all the changes which the three years +had brought to them: she forgot how poor they were, and that her +mother was at that moment hard at work churning butter. She forgot +every thing except that she had found her old friend, and was about +to give her mother a great surprise. She opened the door into the +sitting-room, and, crying, "Mamma! mamma! who do you think is here?" +she ran on into the kitchen, turning back to Mr. and Mrs. Cook and +crying, "Come out here! Here she is!" + +Mrs. March looked up from her churning, much astonished at the +interruption, and still more astonished to see two strangers +standing in her kitchen doorway, and evidently on such intimate +terms with Nelly. Mrs. March had on a stout tow-cloth apron which +reached from her neck to her ankles; this was splashed all over with +cream. On her head she had a white handkerchief, bound tight like a +turban. Altogether she looked as unlike the Mrs. March whom Mrs. +Cook had seen in the cars as Mrs. Cook looked unlike the Mrs. +Williams. But Mrs. Cook's smile was one nobody ever forgot. As soon +as she smiled, Mrs. March exclaimed:-- + +"Why, Mrs. Williams! how glad I am to see you again. Pray excuse me +a minute, till I can take myself out of this buttery apron: walk +back into the sitting-room." + +"No, no!" laughed Mr. Cook, "I know a great deal better than that! I +was brought up on a farm. You can't leave that butter! Here! give me +the apron, and let me churn it: it's twenty-five years since I've +churned; but I believe I can do it." And, without giving Mrs. March +time to object, he fairly took the apron away from her, and tied it +around his own neck, and began to churn furiously. + +"Now you two go in and sit down," he said, "and leave this little +girl and me to attend to this butter. You'll see how soon I'll +'bring' it!" And indeed he did. His powerful arms worked as if they +were driven by steam; and in less than a quarter of an hour the +butter was firm and hard, and Nelly and Mr. Cook had become good +friends. He liked the quiet, grave little girl very much; but, after +all, his heart warmed most to Rob, and the greater part of his talk +with Nelly was about her brother. + +In the meantime, Mrs. Cook and Mrs. March were having a full talk +about all that had happened. There was something about Mrs. Cook +which made people tell her all their affairs. She never asked +questions or pried in any way, but she was brimful of sympathy and +kindly intent; and to such persons everybody goes for comfort and +advice. Mrs. March had always remembered her with affectionate +gratitude for her goodness to Nelly, and she was glad of the +opportunity, even three years late, to thank her for that beautiful +wax doll. + +"It is as good as new now," she said. "Nelly keeps it rolled in +tissue paper, in the box. She does not play with dolls any more, but +it is still her chief treasure." + +"Not play with dolls!" exclaimed Mrs. Cook: "why, she is not +fifteen." + +"I know it," replied Mrs. March, "but our hardworking life here has +made both the children old for their years: especially Nelly. She +was naturally a thoughtful, care-taking child. Rob is of a more +mirthful, adventurous temperament. He has taken the jolly side of +the life here; but Nelly has grown almost too sober and wise. She is +a blessed child." + +"Yes, indeed, she is," replied Mrs. Cook; "and she was so when I +first knew her. I never could forget her earnest face. I want you to +let her and Rob too be with us just as much as possible while we are +here. We shall stay a month: perhaps six weeks, if it does not grow +too cold. We find it is much better for Arthur to stay quietly in +one place than it is to move about. He gains much more. Travelling +tires him dreadfully." + +"I shall be more than glad to have the children with you as much as +possible," replied Mrs. March; "but that will not be so much as I +could wish: for we are all working very hard now; and two days each +week the children go to Rosita, to sell eggs and butter. That is the +greater part of our income this summer." + +Mrs. March said this in a cheerful tone, and as if it were nothing +worth dwelling upon, and Mrs. Cook did not express any surprise; but +in her heart she was much grieved and shocked to find that the +Marches were so poor, and as soon as she was alone with her husband +she told him of it with tears in her eyes. + +"Only think, Edward," she said, "of those sweet children going about +selling eggs and butter in the town." + +Mr. Cook was a very rich man; but his father and his grandfather +had been farmers; and in Mr. Cook's early years he had driven the +market-wagon into town many a time and sold potatoes and corn in the +market. It did not, therefore, seem so dreadful to him as it did to +his wife that Rob and Nelly should carry about eggs and butter to +sell in Rosita. Still, he was sorry to hear it, and exclaimed:-- + +"Do they really? The plucky little toads! That's too bad--for the +girl: it won't hurt the boy any!" + +"Oh, Edward!" said Mrs. Cook, "you wouldn't like to have Arthur do +it." + +"No, I wouldn't like to have him do it," replied Mr. Cook: "most +certainly I wouldn't like to have him; but that wouldn't prove that +it mightn't be better for him in the end if he had to. But fate has +taken all such questions as that out of our hands, so far as poor +Arthur is concerned." And Mr. Cook sighed heavily. Arthur's +condition was a terrible grief to his father. All the more because +he was so well and strong himself, Mr. Cook had a dread of physical +pain or weakness. Many times a day he looked at his helpless son, +and said in his inmost heart:-- + +"Rather than be like that, I would die any death that could be +invented." + +It was a mercy that Arthur did not inherit his father's temperament. +He was much more like his mother: so long as he could be amused, and +did not suffer severe pain, he did not so much mind having to lie +still. When Rob said to him, one day:-- + +"Oh, Arthur, doesn't it tire you horribly to stay in that chair?" +Arthur answered:-- + +"Why, no: it's the easiest chair you ever sat in. You just try it +some day. I had one before this that did tire me, though: it was a +horrid chair. It wasn't made right; but this is a jolly chair. It's +better than the bed." + +Rob, who had felt guilty the moment he had asked the question, +thinking it was not kind, was much relieved at this answer, and +thought to himself:-- + +"Well, that's lucky. He didn't mind my asking him one bit. I guess +it's because he's been sick so long he doesn't remember how it felt +to run about." + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +CHANGES IN PROSPECT + + +I could not tell you one-half of the pleasant things that happened +in the course of the next month to Rob and Nelly. They had such good +times that they hardly ever thought of their disappointment about +the mine. And even Mr. and Mrs. March thought less and less about it +every day, they were so much interested in talking with Mr. and Mrs. +Cook. Mr. March and Mr. Cook became good friends very soon. Mr. Cook +would often work all day long in the fields with Mr. March. He said +it made him feel as if he were a boy again, on his father's farm. +The days that Rob and Nelly went to Rosita were very long days to +Arthur. He was so lonely that Mrs. Cook proposed to her husband one +day that they should let Thomas, the driver, take the children up +town in the carriage, and bring them right back again. + +"They need not be gone more than two hours in all," she said. "It is +that tiresome walk that takes so long." + +But Mr. Cook was too wise to do this. + +"That would not be any true kindness to the children," he said. "It +is much better that they should keep on with the regular routine of +their life, just as they did before. If they were to have the +carriage to take them up to town for a month, it would only make the +walk seem very long and hard to them after we are gone. We will give +them all the pleasure we can, without altering their way of living." + +"The mere fact of our being here alters their whole life," said Mrs. +Cook. "They have now constant companionship, and a variety of +amusements and interests, in Arthur's toys and books, which are all +new to them. Before we came, they had solitude, absolutely no +amusements, and no occupation except hard work. Nelly told me the +other day that she had read every book in their house, twice over." + +"There are not very many books," said Mr. Cook: "I don't know how +March comes to have so few." + +"Oh, they had to sell ever so many last summer: Mrs. March told me +so," replied Mrs. Cook. + +"By Jove! did they?" exclaimed Mr. Cook. "That was too bad. I wonder +if March would take it amiss if I sent him out a box of books this +autumn." + +"I don't know," Mrs. Cook said thoughtfully. "They haven't a +particle of false pride, about their work, or selling things, or any +thing of that kind; but I doubt their liking presents. They are very +independent." + +The weeks slipped by as if they weren't more than three days long. +Rob and Nelly got up before daylight every morning, so as to hurry +through their work and go down to the tents,--down to "Arthur's," +they always called it, as if it were a house. Sometimes they stayed +all day, till it was time for Rob to go for the cows. They read, or +they played dominoes or chequers or backgammon; or they put +dissected maps together; or they looked at all sorts of things under +the microscope; or they painted flowers: this was the nicest thing +of all. Mrs. Cook drew and painted beautifully. She had taught +Arthur, so that he could paint a little simple flower really very +well; and he had a beautiful paint-box, full of real good paints, +such as artists use,--not such as are put in toy-boxes for children. +This was the thing Nelly enjoyed best. Then Ralph, the cook, used to +go off gunning every day, and he brought home beautiful birds, and +Arthur and Rob used to nail the wings on boards to dry. Arthur had a +little table that fitted across his chair, and on this table he +could pound pretty hard; and he made a good many pretty things out +of wood. It seemed to Rob that there wasn't any thing in the whole +world which Flora could not bring out of the two big black boxes +which stood in her tent, and held Arthur's things. As for books, he +had fifty: every one of Mayne Reid's. When Rob saw those he was +delighted. + +"Oh, Arthur! Arthur! ain't they splendid! I've had 'The Cliff +Climbers.'" + +"I don't think so," said Arthur. "They're all about hunting and +fighting, and such things." + +"Oh, my!" said Rob, "don't you like that? That's just what I like. +I'll read some of 'em to you. I bet you'd like them." And when Rob +read them to him, Arthur really did like them. + +He could not help sharing Rob's enthusiasm; but when Rob +exclaimed:--"Oh, Arthur, don't you wish you could go to the +Himalayas?" poor Arthur only shuddered, and said:-- + +"No, indeed! it shakes you so awfully to go in the cars." + +Rob did not ask him again; but he told Nelly at night what Arthur +had said, and he added:-- + +"Say, Nell, if I should ever get to be like Arthur, I'd take +poison." + +"Why, Rob!" cried Nelly, "that's awfully wicked! You wouldn't ever +dare to!" And Nelly turned pale with fright. + +"I expect it is," said Rob; "but I reckon I'd do it! Why, Nell, I'd +just have to!" + +Mrs. Cook sat with the children hours at a time, and listened to +their talk and play. She and her husband took a drive or a ride +every afternoon; but the rest of the time she did not leave Arthur. +The more she saw the influence of Rob and Nelly upon him, the more +grateful she felt for the strange chance which had brought them +together. Arthur was really growing better. He had more color, more +appetite, and very seldom complained of pain. He had something to +think of beside himself; and he was happy,--the two best medicines +in all the world: they will cure more diseases than people dream. + +One day, Flora said to Mrs. Cook:-- + +"I suppose, ma'am, ye'll be going soon. There was quite a frost in +the north o' the valley last night, Thomas was telling me. They say +there'll be snow here before long." + +"Yes, Flora, I suppose we will have to go very soon: week after +next, Mr. Cook thinks," replied Mrs. Cook. + +Arthur was lying back in his chair, with his eyes shut. They thought +he was asleep; but at the sound of these words he opened his eyes, +and cried out:-- + +"I won't go away, mamma! I won't go! You can't make me. I'm not +going away ever. I'm going to stay here." + +"Why, Arthur dear!" said his mother, "you wouldn't like to stay here +without papa and without me; and you know papa must go home." + +"Yes, I would!" cried Arthur: "I've been thinking about it for ever +so long. Flora can stay: she can dress and undress me; and I can +live in Mrs. March's house, and sleep in Rob's bed. I asked Nelly, +and she said I could. Rob can sleep on the lounge. I shan't go home. +I hate New York; and if you take me back there I'll get sicker and +sicker, and die; and I don't care if I do, if I can't stay here!" + +Mrs. Cook was grieved and shocked. She had often thought to herself +that there was danger that Rob and Nelly would be discontented and +lonely when Arthur went away; but strangely enough she had never +thought of any such danger for Arthur. She had often wished she +could take Nelly home with her to live; but she had dismissed it +from her mind as an impossible thing. Now she began to think of it +again. She sat a long time in silence, turning it over and over. + +"Why don't you speak, mamma?" asked Arthur: "are you angry with me?" + +"No, dear," replied Mrs. Cook: "I am not angry: only very, very +sorry; and I am trying to think what we can do to make you happy +when we go away. I shall be very sorry if all our pleasant time here +only makes you unhappier after you go home. You were very contented +before we came here." + +"I don't think I was very, mamma," said Arthur, sadly. "I always +wanted a boy or a girl; and none of the boys and girls in New York +cared any thing about me,--only my things; but Nelly is just like my +own sister,--at least I guess that's the way sisters are,--and Rob +is just like my brother. Mamma, I can't go away! I don't see why you +can't leave me. You and papa would come back in the spring. Oh, +mamma, let me! let me!" And poor Arthur began to cry. + +Mrs. Cook put her arms around him, and laid her face down close to +his. + +"My darling child!" she said, "haven't papa and I done every thing +we possibly could to make you happy always?" + +"Yes," sobbed Arthur; "and that's why I think you might leave me +here." + +"Dear boy, you don't seem to think," said his mother, "how lonely +papa and I would be without you." + +"Oh, mamma, would you, really? How could you be? I'm only a bother: +I can't go round with you or any thing. I think you'd have a great +deal better time without me. Perhaps I'd get so I could walk if I +stayed here all winter. You know one doctor said I ought to stay a +whole year." + +"Arthur, dear," said Mrs. Cook, earnestly, "do not talk any more +about this now. Promise mamma that you will try not to think about +it either; and I promise you I will talk to papa and see what he +thinks can be done. All we want in this world is to make you happy, +and do what is best for you." + +"Will you ask him to let me stay?" cried Arthur. + +"I will tell him how you feel about being separated from Nelly and +Rob," replied his mother; "and I think we can arrange in some way." + +Mrs. Cook had already made up her mind what she would do. She would +ask Mrs. March to let Nelly go back with them to New York for the +winter. She knew that Mr. Cook would be willing; and she believed +that Mrs. March might be persuaded to consent, on account of the +advantage it would be to Nelly. But she would not mention this plan +to Arthur now, because he would only be all the more disappointed if +it failed. Arthur leaned his head back in his chair, and shut his +eyes again. + +"Oh, dear!" he said, "crying does always make my head ache so!" + +"Yes, dear," said his mother, "that is reason enough, if there were +no other, why you should try hard to behave like a man always, and +never let any little thing upset you enough to make you cry." + +"I know it," said Arthur, forlornly; "but you cry before you think +you're going to; and then you can't stop." + +As soon as Mrs. Cook was alone with her husband, she told him what +Arthur had said. + +"I am not at all surprised," he replied: "I have been expecting it." + +"Of course it would never do to leave the child here," said Mrs. +Cook. + +"Of course not," said Mr. Cook. "But I'll tell you what we might +do: take Rob and Nelly home with us for the winter. I think their +father and mother would let them go." + +"Rob too?" said Mrs. Cook. + +"Rob too!" echoed Mr. Cook. "Why, if I could have but one Rob would +be the one; but if we take one we've got to take both: you might as +well propose to separate the Siamese twins." + +"I was thinking of proposing to take Nelly," said Mrs. Cook. "I +don't see how Mrs. March could spare them both." + +"She could easier let them both go than have one left behind to +pine. I don't know but it would kill them to be apart from each +other. I don't see, though, how you can prefer Nelly to Rob?" + +"And I don't see how you can prefer Rob to Nelly," answered Mrs. +Cook: "as a companion for Arthur, Nelly is twice as good as Rob." + +"Does Arthur like her better?" asked Mr. Cook. + +"Yes, I think he does," replied Mrs. Cook: "he seems to lean on her. +He is very fond of Rob, too. He said to-day that they were just like +his sister and brother." + +"Let us go down to-night and ask Mr. and Mrs. March about it," said +Mr. Cook. "The sooner it is settled the better. If Arthur has got +this crotchet in his head about staying, he won't be easy a minute." + +After tea, Mr. and Mrs. Cook walked down to the house, and proposed +the plan. At first, Mr. March said no, most decidedly. But Mrs. +March begged him to consider the thing, and not decide too hastily. + +"Think what a splendid thing it would be for the children," she +said. + +"But think what a desolate winter you would have here without them," +said Mr. March. + +"Oh, no, not desolate!" said Mrs. March: "not desolate with you +here. Nelly would write every week. The winter would soon pass away. +And, Robert, they may never have another such opportunity in their +lives. I think it would be wrong for us to refuse it for them." + +"Why not consult them?" said Mr. Cook. + +"I know beforehand what they would say," answered Mr. March. "Nelly +would say stay here, and Rob would say go. No: we must decide the +question ourselves; and Mrs. March is right: we ought not to decide +too hastily. We will let you know in the morning." + +"You understand, I hope," said Mrs. Cook, "that it is a very great +favor, for the sake of our helpless boy, that we ask it. It is +really asking you to give up your two children for a time, just to +make our one happy." + +"I understand that," replied Mr. March; "but you must know that it +is also a very great obligation under which we lay ourselves to you. +I feel it to be such, and I confess I shrink from it: I can never +repay it." + +"Nonsense!" said Mr. Cook. "The obligation is all on our side; and +if you had ever had a poor helpless child like Arthur, you could +realize it. Why, March, I'd give all my fortune this moment, and +begin at the bottom and make it all over again, if I could see +Arthur well and strong as your Rob." And the tears filled Mr. Cook's +eyes, as he shook hands with Mrs. March, and bade her good-night. + +Mr. and Mrs. March talked nearly all night before they could come to +a decision about this matter. It was a terrible thing to them to +look forward to a whole winter without the children. But Mrs. March +continually said:-- + +"Robert, suppose we never have another chance to give either of them +such an opportunity of pleasure and improvement as this. How shall +we feel when we look back? We should never forgive ourselves." + +So it was decided that the children should go. + +In the morning Mrs. March said to Nelly:-- + +"You'll miss Arthur when he goes: won't you?" + +Nelly hesitated, and finally said:-- + +"Arthur says he won't go!" + +"Won't go!" exclaimed Mrs. March: "what does he mean?" + +"He is going to ask his father to ask you to let him stay here with +us," replied Nelly. "I thought he might sleep in Rob's bed. Rob says +he'd just as soon sleep on the lounge; and I thought you'd be +willing. He's such a poor dear! I could take all the care of him." + +"Would you really like to have him?" said Mrs. March. + +"Oh, yes, indeed, mamma, ever so much! I love him as well as I do +Rob,--almost: not quite, I guess, because he isn't my own brother; +but it is so hard for him to be sick, that makes me love him more." + +"Mr. and Mrs. Cook came down here last night to ask us to let you +and Rob go back to New York with them for the winter," said Mrs. +March, very quietly, watching Nelly's face as she spoke. + +It turned scarlet in one second, and the voice was almost a shriek +in which Nelly cried out:-- + +"Oh, mamma! how perfectly splendid! Can we go?" + +Then in the very next second she said:-- + +"But you couldn't spare us: could you? You couldn't stay here all +alone." And her face fell. + +"Yes, I think we could spare you; and we have said you might go," +said Mrs. March, smiling. + +Nelly's arms were round her mother's neck in one moment, and she was +kissing her and half laughing and half crying. + +"Oh, mamma! mamma!" she said, "I can't tell whether I am glad or +sorry. I don't want to go away from you; but oh! if you only could +hear Arthur tell of all the beautiful things in New York! Oh! I +don't know whether I am sorry or glad!" + +But Mrs. March knew very well that she was glad, and this made it +much easier for her to bear the thought of the separation. + +If Nelly, the quiet Nelly, were as glad and excited as this, how do +you suppose the adventurous Rob felt, when he heard the news? The +house wouldn't hold him. He had to run out and turn summersaults on +the grass. Then he raced off down to the tents, and told Flora and +Ralph and Thomas. It was early in the morning, and Arthur was not +up. All the servants were glad. They all liked Rob and Nelly, and +they all saw how much better Arthur had grown since he had had +children to play with. + +"Ah, Master Rob," said Thomas, "just wait till I drive ye out in the +Park; that's a place worth looking at,--all beautiful green grass, +and lakes, and roads as smooth and hard as a beach, and groves of +trees,--not like this bare wilderness, I can tell ye." + +"Are there mountains there, Thomas?" asked Rob. + +"Mountains! no! The Lord be praised: never a mountain!" exclaimed +Ralph; "and if ever I'm thankful for anything, it is to get out of +sight of the ugly sides of 'em!" + +"Oh, Ralph!" was all Rob could say at hearing such an opinion of +mountains. + +When Flora and Thomas brought Arthur out of the tent, Rob ran +towards them. + +"Oh, Arthur--" he began. + +"I know all about it," said Arthur: "Nelly and you are going home +with us. I'd rather stay here, but they won't let me; and having you +go home with us is next best." + +Rob thought this was rather an ungracious way for Arthur to speak, +and so it was. + +"You wouldn't like it here in the winter half so well as you do +now, Arthur," he said. "It's awfully cold sometimes; and real deep +snow. You'd be shut up in the house lots." + +"So I am at home," said Arthur: "weeks and weeks." + +"But your house is nicer to be shut up in than ours," continued Rob. + +"I don't care," said Arthur: "I wanted to stay. But I'm real glad +you and Nelly are going. Can Nelly skate? We'll go and see her skate +in the Park." + +"No, she can't! but I can," said Rob. "Is there good skating there?" + +"Oh, goodness, Rob!" exclaimed Arthur, "didn't you know about the +skating in Central Park? Well, you'll see! We drive up there every +pleasant day. I'm sick of it. But the skating's some fun: I wish I +could skate." + +"Perhaps you'll get strong enough to, pretty soon," said Rob, +sympathizingly. + +"If they'd let me stay here I might," said Arthur, fretfully; "but +they won't." + +The nights grew cool so fast that Mr. and Mrs. Cook began to be +impatient to set out for home. At first, Mr. and Mrs. March pleaded +with them to stay longer; but one morning Mrs. March said suddenly +to her husband:-- + +"Robert, I've changed my mind about the children's going: I think +the sooner they go the better. It is just like having a day set for +having a tooth pulled: you suffer all the pain ten times over in +anticipating it. I can't think about anything else from morning till +night. Oh, I do hope we haven't done wrong!" + +"It isn't too late yet to keep them at home," said Mr. March. "Don't +let us do it if your mind is not clear. I don't think Nelly more +than half wants to go now." + +"Oh, yes, she does!" replied Mrs. March. "She is so excited in the +prospect that she talks in her sleep about it. I heard her, last +night." + +"The dear child!" said Mr. March. "It was Nelly that they really +wanted most." + +"Not at all," said Mrs. March, quickly: "Mr. Cook told me that he +would have only asked for Rob, but he knew the children could not be +separated." + +"Well, that's odd," said Mr. March. "Mrs. Cook told me that she had +been long thinking that she wished she could have Nelly, but she +knew it would be out of the question to separate the children." + +Mrs. March laughed. + +"I see," she said: "they disagree about the children, just as you +and I do. Mrs. Cook likes Nelly best, and Mr. Cook likes Rob." + +"Why, Sarah!" exclaimed Mr. March, "what do you mean? We love the +children just alike." + +"Yes, perhaps we love them equally," replied Mrs. March; "but we +don't like them equally. I like Rob's ways best, and you like +Nelly's. It's always been so, ever since they were born. You'll see +Nelly will make a good, loving, lovable woman; but Rob will make a +splendid man. Rob will do something in the world: you see if he does +not!" + +Mr. March smiled. + +"I hope he will," he said. "But as for my little Nelly, I wouldn't +ask any thing more for her than to be, as you say, 'a good, loving, +lovable woman.'" + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +"GOOT-BY AND GOOT LUCK" + + +When Nelly heard that they were to set out in three days, she +exclaimed:-- + +"Why, I didn't bid Ulrica good-by, or Mr. Kleesman, or Billy and +Lucinda. I thought we weren't going for two weeks. Mayn't I go up +to-morrow, mamma? I can sell some eggs, too, even if it isn't the +regular day. Ever so many people ask me for them always. Hardly +anybody keeps hens in Rosita." + +Mrs. March said she might go. So, very early the next morning, Nelly +set off on her last trip to Rosita. Billy was standing in his +doorway as she passed. + +"Hullo, Nelly! Where's Rob?" he said. + +"Rob's at home with Arthur," she replied. "He didn't want to come. I +only came to bid everybody good-by. We're going day after +to-morrow." + +"Be yer?" said Billy, slowly. "Be yer glad, Nelly?" + +"Why, yes, Billy, I can't help being glad; and for all that, it +makes me cry when I think about going away from mamma and papa. +Isn't that queer?" said Nelly: "I'm glad, and yet it makes me cry." + +"No, 'tain't queer," said Billy: "'twould be queerer if ye didn't. +Ain't Rob goin' to bid anybody good-by?" + +"Oh, he'll have time when we go by, the day we go," said Nelly. +"We're all coming up to Rosita to sleep to-morrow night at the +hotel; and then papa and mamma and Rob and I are going in the stage +to Canyon City. There isn't room for any more in Mr. Cook's +carriage. Perhaps Rob'll go in the wagon with Ralph and Thomas. He +wants to; but mamma wants to see all of him she can. + +"That's just the difference between them two children, Luce," said +Billy, after Nelly had walked on: "Rob he's all for himself, without +meanin' to be, either; he jest don't think: but Nelly she's 's +thoughtful 's a woman about everybody." + +"I donno why you say 's thoughtful 's a woman, Billy," said Lucinda. +"I've seen plenty of women that was as selfish as any men ever I +see." + +"Well, I expect that's so, Luce," said Billy. "You ought to know, +bein' a woman." + +Nelly went first to Ulrica's. Ulrica listened with wide open mouth +and eyes to the news that she would see Nelly no more all winter. At +first, her face was very sad; but in a few moments she said:-- + +"Bah! shame me to be sorry. It are goot! goot! Ulrica vill be glad. +Ven you come back?" + +"Early next summer," replied Nelly. "Mr. Cook always comes to +Colorado in June." + +Ulrica ran to the big oak-chest, and opening it took out the blue +skirt and red bodice she had been making for Nelly. + +"See! it are not done: that goot-for-not'ing Sachs he promise, +promise, all de time promise to make buttons." + +"What is it, Ulrica?" asked Nelly. + +"Oh, you not know? It are gown,--Swede gown for you: like mine +child." And she ran for the picture-book of costumes, and pointed to +one like it. + +Nelly was much pleased. + +"Oh! how good of you, Ulrica!" she said. "Mrs. Cook would love to +see me put that dress on, I am sure. I will wear it sometimes in the +house, when I am in New York, to remind me of you." + +"I get buttons to-day!" said Ulrica, fiercely. "I stay by dat Sachs +till he cut dem. It are not work: he do it in five minnit. You come +again to-night: it are done." + +Mrs. Clapp and Mr. Kleesman were both very much pleased to hear that +Nelly was going away with Mr. and Mrs. Cook. Mrs. Clapp kissed her, +and said:-- + +"Good-by, dear! You are a brave little girl, and deserve to have a +nice, long play-spell; and I am glad you are going to have one. Wait +a minute, and I will give you something to wear on your journey." +Then she ran upstairs, and brought down a nice leather belt with a +pretty little leather bag hanging from it, just big enough to hold a +purse. "There, that is to keep your purse in, and your railroad +ticket," she said, and fastened it around Nelly's waist. + +Mr. Kleesman also kissed Nelly, and said he was glad she was going. + +"You haf earn that you haf playtime," he said. "You haf vork all +summer like von voman more as von little girl." + +"I wonder why they all say such things to me," thought Nelly. "I am +sure I don't know what I have done. If they mean selling the eggs, +that was only fun." + +"Do you mean selling the eggs, sir?" asked honest Nelly. "That was +not work: it was just fun. Rob and I never had such a good time +before. We would have liked to come every day." + +Mr. Kleesman nodded. + +"I know! I know!" he said. "You are not like American childs." Then +he asked:-- + +"And vat do become of the Goot Luck mine? I not hear not'ing since." + +"Oh!" said Nelly, "we have almost forgotten about the old mine. It +wasn't 'good luck:' was it? But Mr. Scholfield keeps on working at +it now. He will not give up that it is not good for any thing." + +"I say not, it are wort not'ing," replied Mr. Kleesman: "I say it +not pay to work it. It cost too much for so little silver as come +out." + +"Yes, sir; papa understood that," said Nelly; "and he was very much +obliged to you indeed; and so we all were." + +Then Mr. Kleesman said:-- + +"Come in! come in! Can you to vait von little? I make for you silver +rose, that you carry viz you." + +"Oh, thank you!" said Nelly; and followed him in, wondering much +what he meant by a silver rose. + +Then he took out of the glass box, where the brass scales were, a +little saucer, full of tiny silver beads like pin-heads. These he +folded up in a bit of paper, shaped like a little cocked hat. This +he put into one of the little clay cups, and set it in the glowing +red-hot oven. Pretty soon Nelly looked in. The silver was boiling +and bubbling in the little cup; the bubbles looked like shining +silver eyes on the red; then there came beautiful rainbow colors all +over it. + +"See you it haf colors like rainbow?" said Mr. Kleesman: "ven dey +come it are almost done." + +In a second more he took out the cup: set it on the iron anvil: +there was a fiery line of red around the silver button: the button +was about the size of a three-cent piece. + +"Vatch! vatch!" cried Mr. Kleesman: "in one second it burst." + +Sure enough, in one second the round button burst in the middle, and +the hot silver gushed up like a little fairy fountain of water, not +more than quarter of an inch high: in the same instant it fell, +cooled, and there was a sort of flower, not unlike a rose, of +frosted silver. + +"Dere! ven you are in New York, you can take dis to jeweller, and he +put pin on it; and you shall vear it, and tell to all peoples you +haf seen it ven it vas made by old man in de Colorado mountains." + +Nelly took the pretty thing in her hands and looked at it with +delight. She had never had any thing so pretty, she thought; and she +thanked Mr. Kleesman again and again, as she bade him good-by. + +"Oh, I see you again: I see you ven you go in stage. I not say +good-by to-day," he said, and looked after her lovingly as she ran +down the steps. + +Ulrica had a stormy time of it with Sachs, the tin-man, before she +could get him to cut out the make-believe buttons for Nelly's gown. +He was at work on a big boiler, and he did not want to stop. +Ulrica's broken English grew so much more broken when she was angry, +that hardly any one could understand her; and William Sachs, who was +a German, knew English very little better than Ulrica: so between +them they made sad work of it. + +"I stamp my foot at him," said Ulrica, telling Nelly the tale: "I +stamp at him my foot, and I take out of his hand his big hammer vat +he pound, pound viz all time dat I am speak, so dat he not hear my +speak. I take out his hand, and I frow down on floor; and I say, 'I +not stir till you my buttons haf cut for mine child;' and ven he see +I not stir, he take tools and he cut, cut, cut, and all the time he +swear at me; he call me 'tam Swede woman;' but I not care. And here +are gown: now you come in and put on." + +So Nelly went in, and Ulrica helped her to undress. When she saw +Nelly's white neck, she stooped down and kissed her, and said.-- + +"Mine child haf white skin: like your skin." + +The red bodice fitted Nelly very well; and she looked lovely in it. +It had a low collar, all covered with the shining tin buttons; and +in the front there was a square space of white muslin, and the tin +buttons were sewed on all round this. The blue petticoat was too +long: it lay on the ground two inches or more. Ulrica looked at it +dismayed. + +"Ach!" she said: "ach! you haf not so tall I tink. I make him now in +von little more as short." And down on the floor she sat, and hemmed +up the skirt in a wonderfully quick time. + +"Ach! if you vait till Jan see you in dis," she said, looking +imploringly at Nelly, with tears running down her face. "You are +mine child, mine child!" + +But Nelly knew that Jan would not be at home till six o'clock, and +she could not stay so long. So she took off the pretty costume, and +kissed Ulrica, and thanked her many times over; and set off for home +with all her presents safe-packed in her basket. + +When Rob saw the presents, he said:-- + +"Oh, my! I wonder if they'd all have given me things too, if I'd +gone up. Did they say any thing about me?" + +"They asked why you didn't come," replied Nelly; "and I told them +you meant to bid them good-by to-morrow, when we started on the +journey." + +"All right!" said Rob: "if they've got any thing for me they can +give it to me then." + +"I never thought of their giving me any thing," said Nelly: "I +wonder what made them." + +"Because they all know that you love them, Nelly," said her father: +"don't you?" + +"Yes, I think so," said Nelly, hesitatingly: "almost love them,--not +quite, I guess: except Ulrica. I love her dearly." + +"And Lucinda and Billy," added Rob. "I love them best of all. I +don't love any of the rest. You can't love everybody." + +At sunset the next night, the March house was shut up; the tents +were all gone; the whole place looked deserted and silent. Everybody +had gone: Mr. and Mrs. Cook and Flora and Arthur in the carriage: +Ralph and Thomas and Rob in the white-topped wagon; and Mr. and +Mrs. March and Nelly in Mr. Scholfield's buggy, which he had lent +them. They drove up to Rosita in time to see the sunset from the top +of the hill. Nelly looked at the mountains as they changed from blue +to purple, and from purple to dusky gray: she did not speak. At last +her mother said:-- + +"You won't forget how the mountains look: will you, Nelly?" + +"Not a bit more than I'll forget how you and papa look!" said Nelly: +"not a bit!" + +After tea, Rob went to bid Mrs. Clapp and Mr. Kleesman and Ulrica +and Jan good-by. Everybody spoke very cordially to him, and hoped he +would have a good time; but nobody gave him any thing, and Rob was a +good deal disappointed. He said nothing about it when he came home: +he was ashamed to. But Nelly knew how he felt, just as well as if he +had told her; and in her good little heart she was very sorry for +him. + +"Mamma," she said, "isn't it too bad that none of them gave Rob any +thing, when they gave me all those nice things?" + +"Yes, I'm sorry," said Mrs. March; "but he has not been here so much +as you have,--that is the reason: and he is so happy in the prospect +of his journey, he will not mind it." + +The stage from Rosita to Canyon City set off at seven o'clock in the +morning. When it drove up to the hotel door, Mr. and Mrs. March and +Rob and Nelly were all ready, sitting on the piazza. While they were +getting in, Mr. Kleesman's door opened, and he came running up, with +his red cotton cap still on his head: in his hurry he had forgotten +to take it off. He looked so droll that even Nelly laughed; and this +reminded him of his nightcap. + +"Ach!" he said, and snatched it off and crammed it into his pocket. + +In a moment more, who should come hurrying up the hill but Jan and +Ulrica; and, behind them, Billy and Lucinda. Billy and Lucinda had +come up to town the night before, and slept at Lucinda's father's +house, so as to be on hand to see Nelly and Rob off. + +None of the Cook family were up. Their horses would go so much +faster than the stage horses, they were not going to set out until +noon. Ralph and Thomas had started with the heavy wagon at daylight. + +There were no other passengers to go in the stage except the +Marches: so the driver did not hurry them; and, after they had taken +their seats, Jan and Ulrica and Billy and Lucinda all crowded +around, saying last words. + +Ulrica had brought two great bouquets of purple and white asters and +golden-rod, the only flowers that were then in bloom. + +"Dese are for you," she said to the children; but, when they reached +out their hands to take them, she shook her head, and said: "No, I +frow dem: it haf luck to frow dem." + +Lucinda had brought a little parcel in which were two knit scarfs, +which she had knit herself: one white and one red. The red one was +for Rob and the white one for Nelly, she said. They were very +pretty. Billy brought a knife for Rob: a capital knife, one with +four blades. Rob's face flushed with pleasure. + +"Why, Billy," he said, "how'd you know I'd lost my knife?" + +"Oh, I found out," said Billy. The truth was, that Billy had walked +all the way down to the tents, a few days before, and asked Ralph +and Flora if they knew of any thing Rob wanted; and Flora told him +how Rob had lost his knife that very day,--had dropped it in the +creek, while he was cutting willows to make whistles of. After Billy +had given Rob the knife, he pulled out of his pocket a little parcel +done up in white paper, and handed it to Nelly, saying:-- + +"I dunno 's it'll be of any kind o' use to yer; but I thought 'twas +kind o' putty." + +Nelly opened the paper. It held a queer little scarlet velvet +pincushion, in a white ivory frame, which was made so that it could +screw on a table. + +"Oh, how pretty!" said Nelly. "Thank you, Billy. I'll keep it on my +table all winter." + +Mr. Kleesman stood behind the others. He smiled and bowed, and said +to Mr. March:-- + +"You haf goot day. The sun shine on your journey." + +"Yes," said Mr. March. "I'm afraid it will not shine so bright when +we come back without these little people." + +"No, dat it vill not," said Mr. Kleesman. "Dat it vill not." + +"Well," said the driver, gathering up the reins in his left hand, +and lifting his whip, "I guess we'll have to be movin' along, if +you're ready, sir." + +"All ready," said Mr. March. + +The driver cracked his whip, and the horses started off on a run, up +the hill. + +"Good-by! good-by!" shouted Rob and Nelly, leaning out. + +"Goot-by!" cried Ulrica, and flung her bouquets into the stage, into +Mrs. March's lap, and Nelly's. + +"Good-by! good-by!" cried Billy and Lucinda. + +"Goot-by!" cried Mr. Kleesman; "and goot luck go with you." + +"That's jest what will go with that Nelly wherever she goes," said +Billy, turning to Mr. Kleesman. + +"You haf known the child?" asked Mr. Kleesman. + +"Well, yes," said Billy, leisurely, "I may say I know her. I brought +'em here, three years ago last spring; an' me 'n' my wife we lived +with 'em goin' on a year. Yes, I know 'em. There ain't any nicer +folks in this world; but Nelly she's the pick o' the hull on 'em. +She ain't no common child; she ain't, now. She hain't minded no more +about that mine o' hern,--that mine she found,--I suppose you've +heered all about it--" + +"Yes, I know," said Mr. Kleesman. + +"Well," continued Billy, "nobody but me knows how that little gal's +heart was set on to thet mine. She'd come an' stand by the hour an' +see me work in it. I worked there long o' Scholfield some six weeks: +we was all took in putty bad. She'd come an' stand an' look an' +look, and talk about what her father 'n' mother could do with the +money; never so much 's a word about any thing she'd like herself; +an' yet I could see her hull heart was jest set on it. And yet's +soon 's 'twas clear an' sartin that the mine wan't good for any +thing, she jest give it all up; and there hain't never come a +complainin' or a disapp'inted word out o' her mouth. 'Twas her own +mine too,--and after her namin' it and all. I've seen many a man in +this country broken all up by no worse a disappointment than that +child had. She's been jest a lesson to me: she has. I declare I +never go by the pesky mine without thinking o' the day when she +danced up and sez she, 'I'll name it! I'll name it "The Good +Luck!"'" + +"Ach, veil!" said Mr. Kleesman, "she haf better than any silver mine +in her own self. She haf such goot-vill, such patient, such true, +she haf always 'goot luck.' She are 'Goot Luck mine' her own self." + + + * * * * * + + +TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES: +Spelling and punctuation have been retained except as noted. +crestfallen and crest-fallen are both used +doorstep and door-step are both used +Nelly and Nellie were both used, standardized to Nelly. +Page 141 beause changed to because (because they come very early) +Page 175 than changed to then (then a loud burst of laughter) +Page 203 thmselves changed to themselves (settle all such matters +themselves) +Page 213 by changed to be (be one way to pay) +Page 231 stroke changed to stroked (stroked his long, white beard) +Page 242 stopped changed to stooped (stooped over and kissed +Page 278 seek changed to see (to see her look troubled.); never changed +to ever (thing I ever saw) +Page 305 ancester changed to ancestor (like my famous ancestor) + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Nelly's Silver Mine, by Helen Hunt Jackson + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NELLY'S SILVER MINE *** + +***** This file should be named 34430.txt or 34430.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/4/4/3/34430/ + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Dianne Nolan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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