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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/37807-h.zip b/37807-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..979813f --- /dev/null +++ b/37807-h.zip diff --git a/37807-h/37807-h.htm b/37807-h/37807-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..4cd8df1 --- /dev/null +++ b/37807-h/37807-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,2171 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.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 Mountain-laurel and Maidenhair, by Louisa M. Alcott. + </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; +} + +.p2 {margin-top: 2em;} +.p4 {margin-top: 4em;} +.p6 {margin-top: 6em;} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; +} + +hr.tb {width: 45%;} +hr.chap {width: 65%} +hr.full {width: 95%;} + +hr.r5 {width: 5%; margin-top: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em;} +hr.r65 {width: 65%; margin-top: 3em; margin-bottom: 3em;} + +ul.index { list-style-type: none; } +li.ifrst { margin-top: 1em; } +li.indx { margin-top: .5em; } +li.isub1 {text-indent: 1em;} +li.isub2 {text-indent: 2em;} +li.isub3 {text-indent: 3em;} + +table { + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; +} + + .tdl {text-align: left;} + .tdr {text-align: right;} + .tdc {text-align: center;} + +.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%; +} + +.sidenote { + width: 20%; + padding-bottom: .5em; + padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; + padding-right: .5em; + margin-left: 1em; + float: right; + clear: right; + margin-top: 1em; + font-size: smaller; + color: black; + background: #eeeeee; + border: dashed 1px; +} + +.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;} +.ftsmall {font-size: 50%;} + +/* 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; +} + +/* Footnotes */ +.footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} + +.footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + +.footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + +.fnanchor { + vertical-align: super; + font-size: .8em; + text-decoration: + none; +} + +/* 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: 1em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +.poem span.i4 { + display: block; + margin-left: 4em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +/* Transcriber's notes */ +.transnote {background-color: #E6E6FA; + color: black; + font-size:smaller; + padding:0.5em; + margin-bottom:5em; + font-family:sans-serif, serif; } + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +Project Gutenberg's Mountain-Laurel and Maidenhair, by Louisa May Alcott + +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: Mountain-Laurel and Maidenhair + +Author: Louisa May Alcott + +Release Date: October 21, 2011 [EBook #37807] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MOUNTAIN-LAUREL AND MAIDENHAIR *** + + + + +Produced by Rory OConor, Suzanne Shell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + + + + + +</pre> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/cover2.jpg" width="400" height="589" alt="Cover"/> +</div> + +<p> </p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 372px;"> +<img src="images/gs01b.jpg" width="372" height="599" alt="Her eyes brightened as they fell upon a glass of rosy laurel and delicate maidenhair fern." /> +<span class="caption">“Her eyes brightened as they fell upon a glass of +rosy laurel and delicate maidenhair fern.”—<span class="smcap">Frontispiece.</span></span> +</div> + +<hr class="tb" /> +<p> </p> + +<h1>MOUNTAIN-LAUREL<br /> +<span class="ftsmall">AND</span><br /> +MAIDENHAIR</h1> +<p> </p> +<h3><small>BY</small><br /> +<big>LOUISA M. ALCOTT</big></h3> + +<p class="center">AUTHOR OF "LITTLE MEN," "LITTLE WOMEN," "MAY<br /> +FLOWERS," "POPPIES AND WHEAT," ETC.</p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p class="center">Illustrated</p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<h3><small>BOSTON</small><br /> +LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY</h3> +<hr class="tb" /> + + + + +<p class="center"> +<i>Copyright, 1887,</i><br /> +<span class="smcap">By Louisa M. Alcott</span>.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Copyright, 1903,</i><br /> +<span class="smcap">By John S. P. Alcott</span>.<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +University Press<br /> +<span class="smcap">John Wilson and Son, Cambridge, U.S.A.</span></p> + +<hr class="tb" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> +<p> </p> + + + +<h2>MOUNTAIN-LAUREL AND<br /> +MAIDENHAIR</h2> + + +<p>"Here's your breakfast, miss. I hope it's +right. Your mother showed me how to fix it, +and said I'd find a cup up here."</p> + +<p>"Take that blue one. I have not much appetite, +and can't eat if things are not nice and +pretty. I like the flowers. I've been longing +for some ever since I saw them last night."</p> + +<p>The first speaker was a red-haired, freckled-faced +girl, in a brown calico dress and white +apron, with a tray in her hands and an air of +timid hospitality in her manner; the second a +pale, pretty creature, in a white wrapper and +blue net, sitting in a large chair, looking about +her with the languid interest of an invalid in a +new place. Her eyes brightened as they fell +upon a glass of rosy laurel and delicate maidenhair +fern that stood among the toast and eggs, +strawberries and cream, on the tray.</p> + +<p>"Our laurel is jest in blow, and I'm real glad +you come in time to see it. I'll bring you a lot, +as soon's ever I get time to go for it."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span></p> + +<p>As she spoke, the plain girl replaced the ugly +crockery cup and saucer with the pretty china +ones pointed out to her, arranged the dishes, and +waited to see if anything else was needed.</p> + +<p>"What is your name, please?" asked the +pretty girl, refreshing herself with a draught of +new milk.</p> + +<p>"Rebecca. Mother thought I'd better wait +on you; the little girls are so noisy and apt to +forget. Wouldn't you like a piller to your back? +you look so kind of feeble seems as if you wanted +to be propped up a mite."</p> + +<p>There was so much compassion and good-will +in the face and voice, that Emily accepted the +offer, and let Rebecca arrange a cushion behind +her; then, while the one ate daintily, and the +other stirred about an inner room, the talk went +on,—for two girls are seldom long silent when +together.</p> + +<p>"I think the air is going to suit me, for I +slept all night and never woke till Mamma had +been up ever so long and got things all nicely +settled," said Emily, graciously, when the fresh +strawberries had been enjoyed, and the bread and +butter began to vanish.</p> + +<p>"I'm real glad you like it: most folks do, if +they don't mind it being plain and quiet up here.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span> +It's gayer down at the hotel, but the air ain't +half so good, and delicate folks generally like our +old place best," answered Becky, as she tossed +over a mattress and shook out the sheets with +a brisk, capable air pleasant to see.</p> + +<p>"I wanted to go to the hotel, but the doctor +said it would be too noisy for me, so Mamma +was glad to find rooms here. I didn't think a +farm-house <i>could</i> be so pleasant. That view is +perfectly splendid!" and Emily sat up to gaze +delightedly out of the window, below which +spread the wide intervale, through which the +river ran with hay-fields on either side, while +along the green slopes of the hills lay farm-houses +with garden plots, and big barns waiting for the +harvest; and beyond, the rocky, wooded pastures +dotted with cattle and musical with cow-bells, +brooks, and birds.</p> + +<p>A balmy wind kissed a little color into the +pale cheeks, the listless eyes brightened as they +looked, and the fretful lines vanished from lips +that smiled involuntarily at the sweet welcome +Nature gave the city child come to rest and play +and grow gay and rosy in her green lap.</p> + +<p>Becky watched her with interest, and was +glad to see how soon the new-comer felt the charm +of the place, for the girl loved her mountain<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> +home, and thought the old farm-house the +loveliest spot in the world.</p> + +<p>"When you get stronger I can show you lots +of nice views round here. There's a woodsy +place behind the house that's just lovely. Down +by the laurel bushes is <i>my</i> favorite spot, and +among the rocks is a cave where I keep things +handy when I get a resting-spell now and then, +and want to be quiet. Can't get much at home, +when there's boarders and five children round in +vacation time."</p> + +<p>Becky laughed as she spoke, and there was a +sweet motherly look in her plain face, as she +glanced at the three little red heads bobbing +about the door-yard below, where hens cackled, +a pet lamb fed, and the old white dog lay blinking +in the sun.</p> + +<p>"I like children; we have none at home, and +Mamma makes such a baby of me I'm almost +ashamed sometimes. I want her to have a good +rest now, for she has taken care of me all winter +and needs it. You shall be my nurse, if I need +one; but I hope to be so well soon that I can +see to myself. It's so tiresome to be ill!" and +Emily sighed as she leaned back among her +pillows, with a glance at the little glass which +showed her a thin face and shorn head.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It must be! I never was sick, but I have +taken care of sick folks, and have a sight of +sympathy for 'em. Mother says I make a pretty +good nurse, being strong and quiet," answered +Becky, plumping up pillows and folding towels +with a gentle despatch which was very grateful +to the invalid, who had dreaded a noisy, awkward +serving-maid.</p> + +<p>"Never ill! how nice that must be! I'm +always having colds and headaches, and fusses +of some kind. What do you do to keep +well, Rebecca?" asked Emily, watching her +with interest, as she came in to remove the +tray.</p> + +<p>"Nothing but work; I haven't time to be +sick, and when I'm tuckered out, I go and rest +over yonder. Then I'm all right, and buckle +to again, as smart as ever;" and every freckle +in Becky's rosy face seemed to shine with +cheerful strength and courage.</p> + +<p>"I'm 'tuckered out' doing nothing," said +Emily, amused with the new expression, and +eager to try a remedy which showed such fine +results in this case. "I shall visit your pet +places and do a little work as soon as I am able, +and see if it won't set me up. Now I can only +dawdle, doze, and read a little. Will you please<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span> +put those books here on the table? I shall want +them by-and-by."</p> + +<p>Emily pointed to a pile of blue and gold volumes +lying on a trunk, and Becky dusted her +hands as she took them up with an air of reverence, +for she read on the backs of the volumes +names which made her eyes sparkle.</p> + +<p>"Do you care for poetry?" asked Emily, surprised +at the girl's look and manner.</p> + +<p>"Guess I do! don't get much except the +pieces I cut out of papers, but I love 'em, and +stick 'em in an old ledger, and keep it down +in my cubby among the rocks. I do love <i>that</i> +man's pieces. They seem to go right to the +spot somehow;" and Becky smiled at the name +of Whittier as if the sweetest of our poets was +a dear old friend of hers.</p> + +<p>"I like Tennyson better. Do you know +him?" asked Emily, with a superior air, for +the idea of this farmer's daughter knowing +anything about poetry amused her.</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, I've got a number of his pieces in +my book, and I'm fond of 'em. But this man +makes things so kind of true and natural I feel +at home with <i>him</i>. And this one I've longed +to read, though I guess I can't understand +much of it. His 'Bumble Bee' was just lovely;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span> +with the grass and columbines and the yellow +breeches of the bee. I'm never tired of that;" +and Becky's face woke up into something like +beauty as she glanced hungrily at the Emerson +while she dusted the delicate cover that hid the +treasures she coveted.</p> + +<p>"I don't care much for him, but Mamma +does. I like romantic poems, and ballads, and +songs; don't like descriptions of clouds, and +fields, and bees, and farmers," said Emily, +showing plainly that even Emerson's simplest +poems were far above her comprehension as +yet, because she loved sentiment more than +Nature.</p> + +<p>"I do, because I know 'em better than love +and the romantic stuff most poetry tells about. +But I don't pretend to judge, I'm glad of anything +I can get. Now if you don't want me I'll +pick up my dishes and go to work."</p> + +<p>With that Becky went away, leaving Emily +to rest and dream with her eyes on the landscape +which was giving her better poetry than any her +books held. She told her mother about the odd +girl, and was sure she would be amusing if she +did not forget her place and try to be friends.</p> + +<p>"She is a good creature, my dear, her mother's +main stay, and works beyond her strength, I am<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> +sure. Be kind to the poor girl, and put a little +pleasure into her life if you can," answered Mrs. +Spenser, as she moved about, settling comforts +and luxuries for her invalid.</p> + +<p>"I shall <i>have</i> to talk to her, as there is no other +person of my age in the house. How are the +school marms? shall you get on with them, +Mamma? It will be so lonely here for us both, +if we don't make friends with some one."</p> + +<p>"Most intelligent and amiable women all three, +and we shall have pleasant times together, I am +sure. You may safely cultivate Becky; Mrs. +Taylor told me she was a remarkably bright girl, +though she may not look it."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'll see. But I do hate freckles and +big red hands, and round shoulders. She can't +help it, I suppose, but ugly things fret me."</p> + +<p>"Remember that she has no time to be pretty, +and be glad she is so neat and willing. Shall +we read, dear? I'm ready now."</p> + +<p>Emily consented, and listened for an hour or +two while the pleasant voice beside her conjured +away all her vapors with some of Mrs. Ewing's +charming tales.</p> + +<p>"The grass is dry now, and I want to stroll +on that green lawn before lunch. You rest, +Mamma dear, and let me make discoveries all<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> +alone," proposed Emily, when the sun shone +warmly, and the instinct of all young creatures +for air and motion called her out.</p> + +<p>So, with her hat and wrap, and book and parasol, +she set forth to explore the new land in +which she found herself.</p> + +<p>Down the wide, creaking stairs and out upon +the door-stone she went, pausing there for a +moment to decide where first to go. The sound +of some one singing in the rear of the house led +her in that direction, and turning the corner she +made her first pleasant discovery. A hill rose +steeply behind the farm-house, and leaning from +the bank was an old apple-tree, shading a spring +that trickled out from the rocks and dropped +into a mossy trough below. Up the tree had +grown a wild grape-vine, making a green canopy +over the great log which served as a seat, +and some one had planted maidenhair ferns +about both seat and spring to flourish beautifully +in the damp, shady spot.</p> + +<p>"Oh, how pretty! I'll go and sit there. It +looks clean, and I can see what is going on in +that big kitchen, and hear the singing. I suppose +it's Becky's little sisters by the racket."</p> + +<p>Emily established herself on the lichen-covered +log with her feet upon a stone, and sat<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> +enjoying the musical tinkle of the water, with +her eyes on the delicate ferns stirring in the +wind, and the lively jingle of the multiplication-table +chanted by childish voices in her ear.</p> + +<p>Presently two little girls with a great pan +of beans came to do their work on the back +door-step, a third was seen washing dishes at a +window, and Becky's brown-spotted gown flew +about the kitchen as if a very energetic girl +wore it. A woman's voice was heard giving +directions, as the speaker was evidently picking +chickens somewhere out of sight.</p> + +<p>A little of the talk reached Emily and both +amused and annoyed her, for it proved that +the country people were not as stupid as they +looked.</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, we mustn't mind if she <i>is</i> notional +and kind of wearing; she's been sick, +and it will take time to get rid of her fretty +ways. Jest be pleasant, and take no notice, +and that nice mother of hers will make it all +right," said the woman's voice.</p> + +<p>"How anybody with every mortal thing to be +happy with <i>can</i> be out-of-sorts passes me. She +fussed about every piller, chair, trunk, and mite +of food last night, and kept that poor tired +lady trotting till I was provoked. She's right<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> +pleasant this morning though, and as pretty as +a picture in her ruffled gown and that blue thing +on her head," answered Becky from the pantry, +as she rattled out the pie-board, little dreaming +who sat hidden behind the grape-vine festoons +that veiled the corner by the spring.</p> + +<p>"Well, she's got redder hair 'n' we have, so +she needn't be so grand and try to hide it with +blue nets," added one little voice.</p> + +<p>"Yes, and it's ever so much shorter 'n' ours, +and curls all over her head like Daisy's wool. +I should think such a big girl would feel real +ashamed without no braids," said the other child, +proudly surveying the tawny mane that hung +over her shoulders,—for like most red-haired +people all the children were blessed with luxuriant +crops of every shade from golden auburn +to regular carrots.</p> + +<p>"I think it's lovely. Suppose it had to be +cut off when she had the fever. Wish I could +get rid of my mop, it's such a bother;" and +Becky was seen tying a clean towel over the +great knot that made her head look very like +a copper kettle.</p> + +<p>"Now fly round, deary, and get them pies +ready. I'll have these fowls on in a minute, +and then go to my butter. You run off and see<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> +if you can't find some wild strawberries for the +poor girl, soon's ever you are through with them +beans, children. We must kind of pamper her +up for a spell till her appetite comes back," said +the mother.</p> + +<p>Here the chat ended, and soon the little girls +were gone, leaving Becky alone rolling out pie-crust +before the pantry window. As she worked +her lips moved, and Emily, still peeping through +the leaves, wondered what she was saying, for +a low murmur rose and fell, emphasized now +and then with a thump of the rolling-pin.</p> + +<p>"I mean to go and find out. If I stand on +that wash-bench I can look in and see her work. +I'll show them all that <i>I</i>'m <i>not</i> 'fussy,' and can +be 'right pleasant' if I like."</p> + +<p>With this wise resolution Emily went down +the little path, and after pausing to examine the +churn set out to dry, and the row of pans shining +on a neighboring shelf, made her way to the +window, mounted the bench while Becky's back +was turned, and pushing away the morning-glory +vines and scarlet beans that ran up on either +side peeped in with such a smiling face that the +crossest cook could not have frowned on her as +an intruder.</p> + +<p>"May I see you work? I can't eat pies, but<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> +I like to watch people make them. Do you +mind?"</p> + +<p>"Not a bit. I'd ask you to come in, but it's +dreadful hot here, and not much room," answered +Becky, crimping round the pastry before she +poured in the custard. "I'm going to make +a nice little pudding for you; your mother said +you liked 'em; or would you rather have whipped +cream with a mite of jelly in it?" asked Becky, +anxious to suit her new boarder.</p> + +<p>"Whichever is easiest to make. I don't care +what I eat. Do tell me what you were saying. +It sounded like poetry," said Emily, leaning both +elbows on the wide ledge with a pale pink +morning-glory kissing her cheek, and a savory +odor reaching her nose.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I was mumbling some verses. I often +do when I work, it sort of helps me along; but +it must sound dreadful silly," and Becky blushed +as if caught in some serious fault.</p> + +<p>"I do it, and it's a great comfort when I lie +awake. I should think you <i>would</i> want something +to help you along, you work so hard. Do +you like it, Becky?"</p> + +<p>The familiar name, the kind tone, made the +plain face brighten with pleasure as its owner +said, while she carefully filled a pretty bowl with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> +a golden mixture rich with fresh eggs and country +milk,—</p> + +<p>"No, I don't, but I ought to. Mother isn't +as strong as she used to be, and there's a sight +to do, and the children to be brought up, and +the mortgage to be paid off; so if <i>I</i> don't fly +round, who will? We are doing real well now, +for Mr. Walker manages the farm and gives us +our share, so our living is all right; then boarders +in summer and my school in winter help a deal, +and every year the boys can do more, so I'd be +a real sinner to complain if I do have to step +lively all day."</p> + +<p>Becky smiled as she spoke, and straightened +her bent shoulders as if settling her burden for +another trudge along the path of duty.</p> + +<p>"Do you keep school? Why, how old are +you, Becky?" asked Emily, much impressed +by this new discovery.</p> + +<p>"I'm eighteen. I took the place of a teacher +who got sick last fall, and I kept school all winter. +Folks seemed to like me, and I'm going to +have the same place this year. I'm so glad, for +I needn't go away, and the pay is pretty good, +as the school is large and the children do well. +You can see the school-house down the valley, +that red brick one where the roads meet;" and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> +Becky pointed a floury finger, with an air of +pride that was pleasant to see.</p> + +<p>Emily glanced at the little red house where +the sun shone hotly in summer, and all the winds +of heaven must rage wildly in winter time, for +it stood, as country schools usually do, in the +barest, most uninviting spot for miles around.</p> + +<p>"Isn't it awful down there in winter?" she +asked, with a shiver at the idea of spending days +shut up in that forlorn place, with a crowd of +rough country children.</p> + +<p>"Pretty cold, but we have plenty of wood, +and we are used to snow and gales up here. +We often coast down, the whole lot of us, and +that is great fun. We take our dinners and +have games noon-spells, and so we get on first +rate; some of my boys are big fellows, older +than I am, and they clear the roads and make +the fire and look after us, and we are real happy +together."</p> + +<p>Emily found it so impossible to imagine happiness +under such circumstances that she changed +the subject by asking in a tone which had unconsciously +grown more respectful since this +last revelation of Becky's abilities,—</p> + +<p>"If you do so well here, why don't you try +for a larger school in a better place?"</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, I couldn't leave mother yet; I hope to +some day, when the girls are older, and the boys +able to get on alone. But I can't go now, for +there's a sight of things to do, and mother is +always laid up with rheumatism in cold weather. +So much butter-making down cellar is bad for +her; but she won't let me do that in summer, so +I take care of her in winter. I can see to things +night and morning, and through the day she's +quiet, and sits piecing carpet-rags and resting +up for next spring. We made and wove all the +carpets in the house, except the parlor one. +Mrs. Taylor gave us that, and the curtains, and +the easy-chair. Mother takes a sight of comfort +in that."</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Taylor is the lady who first came to +board here, and told us and others about it," +said Emily.</p> + +<p>"Yes, and she's the kindest lady in the world! +I'll tell you all about her some day, it's real interesting; +now I must see to my pies, and get the +vegetables on," answered Becky, glancing at the +gay clock in the kitchen with an anxious look.</p> + +<p>"Then I won't waste any more of your precious +time. May I sit in that pretty place; or is it +your private bower?" asked Emily, as she dismounted +from the wash-bench.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed you may. That's mother's resting +place when work is done. Father made the +spring long ago, and I put the ferns there. She +can't go rambling round, and she likes pretty +things, so we fixed it up for her, and she takes +comfort there nights."</p> + +<p>Becky bustled off to the oven with her pies, and +Emily roamed away to the big barn to lie on the +hay, enjoying the view down the valley, as she +thought over what she had seen and heard, and +very naturally contrasted her own luxurious and +tenderly guarded life with this other girl's, so hard +and dull and narrow. Working all summer and +teaching all winter in that dismal little school-house, +with no change but home cares and +carpet-weaving! It looked horrible to pleasure-loving +Emily, who led the happy, care-free life +of girls of her class, with pleasures of all sorts, +and a future of still greater luxury, variety, and +happiness, opening brightly before her.</p> + +<p>It worried her to think of any one being contented +with such a meagre share of the good +things of life, when she was unsatisfied in spite +of the rich store showered upon her. She could +not understand it, and fell asleep wishing +every one could be comfortable,—it was so annoying +to see them grubbing in kitchens, teach<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span>ing +in bleak school-houses among snow-drifts, +and wearing ugly calico gowns.</p> + +<p>A week or two of quiet, country fare and the +bracing mountain air worked wonders for the +invalid, and every one rejoiced to see the pale +cheeks begin to grow round and rosy, the languid +eyes to brighten, and the feeble girl who +used to lie on her sofa half the day now go walking +about with her alpenstock, eager to explore +all the pretty nooks among the hills. Her +mother blessed Mrs. Taylor for suggesting this +wholesome place. The tired "school marms," +as Emily called the three young women who +were their fellow-boarders, congratulated her as +well as themselves on the daily improvement in +strength and spirits all felt; and Becky exulted +in the marvellous effects of her native air, aided +by mother's good cookery and the cheerful +society of the children, whom the good girl considered +the most remarkable and lovable youngsters +in the world.</p> + +<p>Emily felt like the queen of this little kingdom, +and was regarded as such by every one, +for with returning health she lost her fretful +ways, and, living with simple people, soon forgot +her girlish airs and vanities, becoming very sweet +and friendly with all about her. The children<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> +considered her a sort of good fairy who could +grant wishes with magical skill, as various gifts +plainly proved. The boys were her devoted +servants, ready to run errands, "hitch up" and +take her to drive at any hour, or listen in mute +delight when she sang to her guitar in the +summer twilight.</p> + +<p>But to Becky she was a special godsend and +comfort, for before the first month had gone +they were good friends, and Emily had made a +discovery which filled her head with brilliant +plans for Becky's future, in spite of her mother's +warnings, and the sensible girl's own reluctance +to be dazzled by enthusiastic prophecies and +dreams.</p> + +<p>It came about in this way. Some three weeks +after the two girls met, Emily went one evening +to their favorite trysting-place,—Becky's bower +among the laurels. It was a pretty nook in the +shadow of a great gray bowlder near the head +of the green valley which ran down to spread +into the wide intervale below. A brook went +babbling among the stones and grass and sweet-ferns, +while all the slope was rosy with laurel-flowers +in their time, as the sturdy bushes grew +thickly on the hill-side, down the valley, and +among the woods that made a rich background<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> +for these pink and white bouquets arranged with +Nature's own careless grace.</p> + +<p>Emily liked this spot, and ever since she had +been strong enough to reach it, loved to climb +up and sit there with book and work, enjoying +the lovely panorama before her. Floating mists +often gave her a constant succession of pretty +pictures; now a sunny glimpse of the distant +lake, then the church spire peeping above the +hill, or a flock of sheep feeding in the meadow, +a gay procession of young pilgrims winding up +the mountain, or a black cloud heavy with a +coming storm, welcome because of the glorious +rainbow and its shadow which would close the +pageant.</p> + +<p>Unconsciously the girl grew to feel not only +the beauty but the value of these quiet hours, +to find a new peace, refreshment, and happiness, +bubbling up in her heart as naturally as the +brook gushed out among the mossy rocks, and +went singing away through hay-fields and +gardens, and by dusty roads, till it met the river +and rolled on to the sea. Something dimly +stirred in her, and the healing spirit that haunts +such spots did its sweet ministering till the +innocent soul began to see that life was not perfect +without labor as well as love, duty as well<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> +as happiness, and that true contentment came +from within, not from without.</p> + +<p>On the evening we speak of, she went to wait +for Becky, who would join her as soon as the +after-supper chores were done. In the little cave +which held a few books, a dipper, and a birch-bark +basket for berries, Emily kept a sketching +block and a box of pencils, and often amused herself +by trying to catch some of the lovely scenes +before her. These efforts usually ended in a +humbler attempt, and a good study of an oak-tree, +a bit of rock, or a clump of ferns was the +result. This evening the sunset was so beautiful +she could not draw, and remembering that +somewhere in Becky's scrap-book there was a fine +description of such an hour by some poet, she +pulled out the shabby old volume, and began to +turn over the leaves.</p> + +<p>She had never cared to look at it but once, +having read all the best of its contents in more +attractive volumes, so Becky kept it tucked away +in the farther corner of her rustic closet, and +evidently thought it a safe place to conceal a certain +little secret which Emily now discovered. +As she turned the stiff pages filled with all sorts +of verses, good, bad, and indifferent, a sheet of +paper appeared on which was scribbled these +lines in school-girl handwriting:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span>—</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2"> <b>MOUNTAIN-LAUREL</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">My bonnie flower, with truest joy<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thy welcome face I see,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The world grows brighter to my eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And summer comes with thee.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My solitude now finds a friend,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And after each hard day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I in my mountain garden walk,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To rest, or sing, or pray.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">All down the rocky slope is spread<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thy veil of rosy snow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in the valley by the brook,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thy deeper blossoms grow.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The barren wilderness grows fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Such beauty dost thou give;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And human eyes and Nature's heart<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Rejoice that thou dost live.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Each year I wait thy coming, dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Each year I love thee more,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For life grows hard, and much I need<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thy honey for my store.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So, like a hungry bee, I sip<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sweet lessons from thy cup,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sitting at a flower's feet,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My soul learns to look up.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">No laurels shall I ever win,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">No splendid blossoms bear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But gratefully receive and use<br /></span> +<span class="i2">God's blessed sun and air;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, blooming where my lot is cast<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Grow happy and content,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Making some barren spot more fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For a humble life well spent.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 377px;"> +<img src="images/gs02b.jpg" width="377" height="530" alt="She wrote it herself!" /> +<span class="caption">“She wrote it herself!”—<span class="smcap">Page 23.</span></span> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span></p> +<p>"She wrote it herself! I can't believe it!" +said Emily, as she put down the paper, looking +rather startled, for she <i>did</i> believe it, and felt +as if she had suddenly looked into a fellow-creature's +heart. "I thought her just an ordinary +girl, and here she is a poet, writing verses +that make me want to cry! I don't suppose +they <i>are</i> very good, but they seem to come right +out of her heart, and touch me with the longing +and the patience or the piety in them. Well, +I <i>am</i> surprised!" and Emily read the lines +again, seeing the faults more plainly than before, +but still feeling that the girl put herself into +them, vainly trying to express what the wild +flower was to her in the loneliness which comes +to those who have a little spark of the divine +fire burning in their souls.</p> + +<p>"Shall I tell her I've found it out? I must! +and see if I can't get her verses printed. Of +course she has more tucked away somewhere. +That is what she hums to herself when she's at +work, and won't tell me about when I ask. Sly +thing! to be so bashful and hide her gift. I'll +tease her a bit and see what she says. Oh dear, +I wish <i>I</i> could do it! Perhaps she'll be famous +some day, and then I'll have the glory of discovering +her."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span></p> + +<p>With that consolation Emily turned over the +pages of the ledger and found several more bits +of verse, some very good for an untaught girl, +others very faulty, but all having a certain +strength of feeling and simplicity of language +unusual in the effusions of young maidens at the +sentimental age.</p> + +<p>Emily had a girlish admiration for talent of +any kind, and being fond of poetry, was especially +pleased to find that her humble friend possessed +the power of writing it. Of course she exaggerated +Becky's talent, and as she waited for +her, felt sure that she had discovered a feminine +Burns among the New Hampshire hills, for all +the verses were about natural and homely objects, +touched into beauty by sweet words or tender +sentiment. She had time to build a splendid +castle in the air and settle Becky in it with a +crown of glory on her head, before the quiet +figure in a faded sunbonnet came slowly up the +slope with the glow of sunset on a tired but +tranquil face.</p> + +<p>"Sit here and have a good rest, while I talk +to you," said Emily, eager to act the somewhat +dramatic scene she had planned. Becky sunk +upon the red cushion prepared for her, and sat +looking down at the animated speaker, as Emily,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> +perched on a mossy stone before her, began the +performance.</p> + +<p>"Becky, did you ever hear of the Goodale +children? They lived in the country and wrote +poetry and grew to be famous."</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, I've read their poems and like 'em +very much. Do you know 'em?" and Becky +looked interested at once.</p> + +<p>"No, but I once met a girl who was something +like them, only she didn't have such an easy +time as they did, with a father to help, and a +nice Sky-farm, and good luck generally. I've +tried to write verses myself, but I always get +into a muddle, and give it up. This makes me +interested in other girls who <i>can</i> do it, and I +want to help my friend. I'm <i>sure</i> she has talent, +and I'd so like to give her a lift in some way. +Let me read you a piece of hers and see what +you think of it."</p> + +<p>"Do!" and Becky threw off the sunbonnet, +folded her hands round her knees, and composed +herself to listen with such perfect unconsciousness +of what was coming that Emily both laughed +at the joke and blushed at the liberty she felt +she was taking with the poor girl's carefully +hidden secret.</p> + +<p>Becky was sure now that Emily was going to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> +read something of her own after this artful introduction, +and began to smile as the paper was +produced and the first four lines read in a tone +that was half timid, half triumphant. Then with +a cry she seized and crumpled up the paper, +exclaiming almost fiercely,—</p> + +<p>"It's mine! Where did you get it? How +dar'st you touch it?"</p> + +<p>Emily fell upon her knees with a face and +voice so full of penitence, pleasure, sympathy, +and satisfaction, that Becky's wrath was appeased +before her friend's explanation ended with these +soothing and delightful words,—</p> + +<p>"That's all, dear, and I beg your pardon. +But I'm sure you will be famous if you +keep on, and I shall yet see a volume of +poems by Rebecca Moore of Rocky Nook, New +Hampshire."</p> + +<p>Becky hid her face as if shame, surprise, +wonder, and joy filled her heart too full and +made a few happy tears drop on the hands so +worn with hard work, when they ached to be +holding a pen and trying to record the fancies +that sung in her brain as ceaselessly as the soft +sough of the pines or the ripple of the brook murmured +in her ear when she sat here alone. She +could not express the vague longings that stirred<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> +in her soul; she could only feel and dimly strive +to understand and utter them, with no thought +of fame or fortune,—for she was a humble +creature, and never knew that the hardships of +her life were pressing out the virtues of her +nature as the tread of careless feet crush the +sweet perfume from wild herbs.</p> + +<p>Presently she looked up, deeply touched by +Emily's words and caresses, and her blue eyes +shone like stars as her face beamed with something +finer than mere beauty, for the secrets of +her innocent heart were known to this friend +now, and it was very sweet to accept the first +draught of confidence and praise.</p> + +<p>"I don't mind much, but I was scared for a +minute. No one knows but Mother, and she +laughs at me, though she don't care if it makes +me happy. I'm glad you like my scribbling, +but really I never think or hope of being anybody. +I couldn't, you know! but it's real nice +to have you say I <i>might</i> and to make believe for +a little while."</p> + +<p>"But why not, Becky? The Goodale girls +did, and half the poets in the world were poor, +ignorant people at first, you know. It only +needs time and help, and the gift will grow, and +people see it; and then the glory and the money<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> +will come," cried Emily, quite carried away by +her own enthusiasm and good-will.</p> + +<p>"Could I get any money by these things?" +asked Becky, looking at the crumpled paper +lying under a laurel-bush.</p> + +<p>"Of course you could, dear! Let me have +some of them, and I'll show you that I know +good poetry when I see it. You will believe if +some bank-bills come with the paper the verses +appear in, I hope?"</p> + +<p>Blind to any harm she might do by exciting +vain hopes in her eagerness to cheer and help, +Emily made this rash proposal in all good faith, +meaning to pay for the verses herself if no editor +was found to accept them.</p> + +<p>Becky looked half bewildered by this brilliant +prospect, and took a long breath, as if some hand +had lifted a heavy burden a little way from her +weary back, for stronger than ambition for herself +was love for her family, and the thought of +help for them was sweeter than any dream of +fame.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I would! oh, if I only <i>could</i>, I'd be +the happiest girl in the world! But I can't believe +it, Emily. I heard Mrs. Taylor say that +only the <i>very best</i> poetry paid, and mine is poor +stuff, I know well enough."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Of course it needs polishing and practice and +all that; but I'm sure it is oceans better than +half the sentimental twaddle we see in the +papers, and I <i>know</i> that some of those pieces <i>are</i> +paid for, because I have a friend who is in a +newspaper office, and he told me so. Yours are +quaint and simple and some very original. I'm +sure that ballad of the old house is lovely, and I +want to send it to Whittier. Mamma knows +him; it's the sort he likes, and he is so kind to +every one, he will criticise it, and be interested +when she tells him about you. Do let me!"</p> + +<p>"I never could in the world! It would be so +bold, Mother would think I was crazy. I love +Mr. Whittier, but I wouldn't dar'st to show +him my nonsense, though reading his beautiful +poetry helps me ever so much."</p> + +<p>Becky looked and spoke as if her breath had +been taken away by this audacious proposal; +and yet a sudden delicious hope sprung up in +her heart that there might, perhaps, be a spark +of real virtue in the little fire which burned +within her, warming and brightening her dull +life.</p> + +<p>"Let us ask Mamma; she will tell us what +is best to do first, for she knows all sorts of +literary people, and won't say any more than<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> +you want her to. I'm bent on having my way, +Becky, and the more modest you are, the surer +I am that you are a genius. Real geniuses +always <i>are</i> shy; so you just make up your mind +to give me the best of your pieces, and let me +prove that I'm right."</p> + +<p>It was impossible to resist such persuasive +words, and Becky soon yielded to the little siren +who was luring her out of her safe, small pool +into the deeper water that looks so blue and +smooth till the venturesome paper boats get into +the swift eddies, or run aground upon the rocks +and sandbars.</p> + +<p>The greatest secrecy was to be preserved, and +no one but Mrs. Spenser was to know what +a momentous enterprise was afoot. The girls sat +absorbed in their brilliant plans till it was nearly +dark, then groped their way home hand in hand, +leaving another secret for the laurels to keep and +dream over through their long sleep, for blossom +time was past, and the rosy faces turning pale +in the July sun.</p> + +<p>Neither of the girls forgot the talk they had +that night in Emily's room, for she led her captive +straight to her mother, and told her all their +plans and aspirations without a moment's delay.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Spenser much regretted her daughter's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> +well-meant enthusiasm, but fearing harm might +be done, very wisely tried to calm the innocent +excitement of both by the quiet matter-of-fact +way in which she listened to the explanation +Emily gave her, read the verses timidly offered +by Becky, and then said, kindly but firmly:—</p> + +<p>"This is not poetry, my dear girls, though the +lines run smoothly enough, and the sentiment is +sweet. It would bring neither fame nor money, +and Rebecca puts more real truth, beauty, and +poetry into her dutiful daily life than in any +lines she has written."</p> + +<p>"We had such a lovely plan for Becky to come +to town with me, and see the world, and write, +and be famous. How can you spoil it all?"</p> + +<p>"My foolish little daughter, I must prevent +you from spoiling this good girl's life by your +rash projects. Becky will see that I am wise, +though you do not, and <i>she</i> will understand this +verse from my favorite poet, and lay it to +heart:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"So near is grandeur to our dust,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So nigh is God to man,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When Duty whispers low, 'Thou must!'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The youth replies, 'I can!'"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"I do! I will! please go on," and Becky's +troubled eyes grew clear and steadfast as she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> +took the words home to herself, resolving to +live up to them.</p> + +<p>"Oh, mother!" cried Emily, thinking her +very cruel to nip their budding hopes in this +way.</p> + +<p>"I know you won't believe it now, nor be +able to see all that I mean perhaps, but time +will teach you both to own that I am right, and +to value the substance more than the shadow," +continued Mrs. Spenser. "Many girls write +verses and think they are poets; but it is only +a passing mood, and fortunately for the world, +and for them also, it soon dies out in some more +genuine work or passion. Very few have the +real gift, and those to whom it <i>is</i> given wait +and work and slowly reach the height of their +powers. Many delude themselves, and try to +persuade the world that they can sing; but it +is waste of time, and ends in disappointment, +as the mass of sentimental rubbish we all see +plainly proves. Write your little verses, my +dear, when the spirit moves,—it is a harmless +pleasure, a real comfort, and a good lesson for +you; but do not neglect higher duties or deceive +yourself with false hopes and vain dreams. +'First live, then write,' is a good motto for ambitious +young people. A still better for us all<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> +is, 'Do the duty that lies nearest;' and the +faithful performance of that, no matter how +humble it is, will be the best help for whatever +talent may lie hidden in us, ready to bloom +when the time comes. Remember this, and do +not let my enthusiastic girl's well-meant but +unwise prophecies and plans unsettle you, and +unfit you for the noble work you are doing."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, ma'am! I <i>will</i> remember; I +know you are right, and I won't be upset by +foolish notions. I never imagined before that I +<i>could</i> be a poet; but it sounded so sort of splendid, +I thought maybe it <i>might</i> happen to me, +by-and-by, as it does to other folks. I won't lot +on it, but settle right down and do my work +cheerful."</p> + +<p>As she listened, Becky's face had grown pale +and serious, even a little sad; but as she answered, +her eyes shone, her lips were firm, and +her plain face almost beautiful with the courage +and confidence that sprung up within her. She +saw the wisdom of her friend's advice, felt the +kindness of showing her the mistake frankly, +and was grateful for it,—conscious in her own +strong, loving heart that it <i>was</i> better to live +and work for others than to dream and strive +for herself alone.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span></p> + +<p>Mrs. Spenser was both surprised and touched +by the girl's look, words, and manner, and her +respect much increased by the courage and good +temper with which she saw her lovely castle +in the air vanish like smoke, leaving the hard +reality looking harder than ever, after this little +flight into the fairy regions of romance.</p> + +<p>She talked long with the girls, and gave them +the counsel all eager young people need, yet are +very slow to accept till experience teaches them +its worth. As the friend of many successful +literary people, Mrs. Spenser was constantly receiving +the confidences of unfledged scribblers, +each of whom was sure that he or she had something +valuable to add to the world's literature. +Her advice was always the same, "Work and +wait;" and only now and then was a young +poet or author found enough in earnest to do +both, and thereby prove to themselves and others +either that they <i>did</i> possess power, or did not, +and so settle the question forever. "First live, +then write," proved a <i>quietus</i> for many, and +"Do the duty that lies nearest" satisfied the +more sincere that they could be happy without +fame. So, thanks to this wise and kindly +woman, a large number of worthy youths and +maidens ceased dreaming and fell to work, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> +the world was spared reams of feeble verse and +third-rate romances.</p> + +<p>After that night Becky spent fewer spare +hours in her nest, and more in reading with +Emily, who lent her books and helped her to +understand them,—both much assisted by Mrs. +Spenser, who marked passages, suggested authors, +and explained whatever puzzled them. +Very happy bits of time were these, and very +precious to both, as Emily learned to see and +appreciate the humbler, harder side of life, and +Becky got delightful glimpses into the beautiful +world of art, poetry, and truth, which gave her +better food for heart and brain than sentimental +musings or blind efforts to satisfy the hunger of +her nature with verse-writing.</p> + +<p>Their favorite places were in the big barn, on +the front porch, or by the spring. This last was +Emily's schoolroom, and she both taught and +learned many useful lessons there.</p> + +<p>One day as Becky came to rest a few minutes +and shell peas, Emily put down her book to +help; and as the pods flew, she said, nodding +toward the delicate ferns that grew thickly all +about the trough, the rock, and the grassy +bank,—</p> + +<p>"We have these in our greenhouse, but I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> +never saw them growing wild before, and I don't +find them anywhere up here. How did you get +such beauties, and make them do so well?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, they grow in nooks on the mountain +hidden under the taller ferns, and in sly corners. +But they don't grow like these, and die soon unless +transplanted and taken good care of. They +always make me think of you,—so graceful and +delicate, and just fit to live with tea-roses in a +hot-house, and go to balls in beautiful ladies' +<i>bo</i>kays," answered Becky, smiling at her new +friend, always so dainty, and still so delicate in +spite of the summer's rustication.</p> + +<p>"Thank you! I suppose I shall never be very +strong or able to do much; so I <i>am</i> rather like +a fern, and do live in a conservatory all winter, +as I can't go out a great deal. An idle thing, +Becky!" and Emily sighed, for she was born +frail, and even her tenderly guarded life could +not give her the vigor of other girls. But the +sigh changed to a smile as she added,—</p> + +<p>"If I am like the fern, you are like your own +laurel,—strong, rosy, and able to grow anywhere. +I want to carry a few roots home, and see if they +won't grow in my garden. Then you will have +me, and I you. I only hope <i>your</i> plant will do +as well as mine does here."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It won't! ever so many folks have taken +roots away, but they never thrive in gardens as +they do on the hills where they belong. So I +tell 'em to leave the dear bushes alone, and come +up here and enjoy 'em in their own place. You +might keep a plant of it in your hot-house, and +it would blow I dare say; but it would never be +half so lovely as my acres of them, and I guess +it would only make you sad, seeing it so far from +home, and pale and pining," answered Becky, +with her eyes on the green slopes where the +mountain-laurel braved the wintry snow, and +came out fresh and early in the spring.</p> + +<p>"Then I'll let it alone till I come next summer. +But don't you take any of the fern into +the house in the cold weather? I should think +it would grow in your sunny windows," said +Emily, pleased by the fancy that it resembled +herself.</p> + +<p>"I tried it, but it needs a damp place, and our +cold nights kill it. No, it won't grow in our old +house; but I cover it with leaves, and the little +green sprouts come up as hearty as can be out +here. The shade, the spring, the shelter of the +rock, keep it alive, you see, so it's no use trying +to move it."</p> + +<p>Both sat silent for a few minutes, as their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> +hands moved briskly and they thought of their +different lots. An inquisitive ray of sunshine +peeped in at them, touching Becky's hair till +it shone like red gold. The same ray dazzled +Emily's eyes; she put up her hand to pull her +hat-brim lower, and touched the little curls on +her forehead. This recalled her pet grievance, +and made her say impatiently, as she pushed +the thick short locks under her net,—</p> + +<p>"My hair is <i>such</i> a plague! I don't know +what I am to do when I go into society by-and-by. +This crop is so unbecoming, and I can't +match my hair anywhere, it is such a peculiar +shade of golden-auburn."</p> + +<p>"It's a pretty color, and I think the curls much +nicer than a boughten switch," said Becky, quite +unconscious that her own luxuriant locks were +of the true Titian red, and would be much +admired by artistic eyes.</p> + +<p>"I don't! I shall send to Paris to match it, +and then wear a braid round my head as you +do sometimes. I suppose it will cost a fortune, +but I <i>won't</i> have a strong-minded crop. A +friend of mine got a lovely golden switch for +fifty dollars."</p> + +<p>"My patience! do folks pay like that for false +hair?" asked Becky, amazed.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed. White hair costs a hundred, I +believe, if it is long. Why, you could get ever +so much for yours if you ever wanted to sell it. +I'll take part of it, for in a little while mine +will be as dark, and I'd like to wear your hair, +Becky."</p> + +<p>"Don't believe Mother would let me. She is +very proud of our red heads. If I ever do cut +it, you shall have some. I may be hard up and +glad to sell it perhaps. My sakes! I smell the +cake burning!" and off flew Becky to forget the +chat in her work.</p> + +<p>Emily did not forget it, and hoped Becky +would be tempted, for she really coveted one of +the fine braids, but felt shy about asking the +poor girl for even a part of her one beauty.</p> + +<p>So July and August passed pleasantly and +profitably to both girls, and in September they +were to part. No more was said about poetry; +and Emily soon became so interested in the busy, +practical life about her that her own high-flown +dreams were quite forgotten, and she learned to +enjoy the sweet prose of daily labor.</p> + +<p>One breezy afternoon as she and her mother +sat resting from a stroll on the way-side bank +among the golden-rod and asters, they saw Becky +coming up the long hill with a basket on her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> +arm. She walked slowly, as if lost in thought, +yet never missed pushing aside with a decided +gesture of her foot every stone that lay in her +way. There were many in that rocky path, but +Becky left it smoother as she climbed, and +paused now and then to send some especially +sharp or large one spinning into the grassy ditch +beside the road.</p> + +<p>"Isn't she a curious girl, Mamma? so tired +after her long walk to town, yet so anxious not +to leave a stone in the way," said Emily, as +they watched her slow approach.</p> + +<p>"A very interesting one to me, dear, because +under that humble exterior lies a fine, strong +character. It is like Becky to clear her way, +even up a dusty hill where the first rain will +wash out many more stones. Let us ask her +why she does it. I've observed the habit before, +and always meant to ask," replied Mrs. Spenser.</p> + +<p>"Here we are! Come and rest a minute, +Becky, and tell us if you mend roads as well as +ever so many other things," called Emily, +beckoning with a smile, as the girl looked up +and saw them.</p> + +<p>"Oh, it's a trick of mine; I caught it of +Father when I was a little thing, and do it without +knowing it half the time," said Becky,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> +sinking down upon a mossy rock, as if rest were +welcome.</p> + +<p>"Why did he do it?" asked Emily, who +knew that her friend loved to talk of her +father.</p> + +<p>"Well, it's a family failing I guess, for his +father did the same, only <i>he</i> began with his farm +and let the roads alone. The land used to be +pretty much all rocks up here, you know, and +farmers had to clear the ground if they wanted +crops. It was a hard fight, and took a sight of +time and patience to grub out roots and blast +rocks and pick up stones that seemed to grow +faster than anything else. But they kept on, +and now see!"</p> + +<p>As she spoke, Becky pointed proudly to the +wide, smooth fields lying before them, newly +shorn of grass or grain, waving with corn, or +rich in garden crops ripening for winter stores. +Here and there were rocky strips unreclaimed, +as if to show what had been done; and massive +stone walls surrounded pasture, field, and +garden.</p> + +<p>"A good lesson in patience and perseverance, +my dear, and does great honor to the men who +made the wilderness blossom like the rose," said +Mrs. Spenser.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Then you can't wonder that they loved it +and we want to keep it. I guess it would break +Mother's heart to sell this place, and we are all +working as hard as ever we can to pay off the +mortgage. Then we'll be just the happiest +family in New Hampshire," said Becky, fondly +surveying the old farm-house, the rocky hill, +and the precious fields won from the forest.</p> + +<p>"You never need fear to lose it; we will see +to that if you will let us," began Mrs. Spenser, +who was both a rich and a generous woman.</p> + +<p>"Oh, thank you! but we won't need help I +guess; and if we should, Mrs. Taylor made us +promise to come to her," cried Becky. "She +found us just in our hardest time, and wanted to +fix things then; but we are proud in our way, +and Mother said she'd rather work it off if she +could. Then what did that dear lady do but +talk to the folks round here, and show 'em how +a branch railroad down to Peeksville would increase +the value of the land, and how good this +valley would be for strawberries and asparagus +and garden truck if we could only get it to +market. Some of the rich men took up the plan, +and we hope it will be done this fall. It will be +the making of us, for our land is first-rate for +small crops, and the children can help at that,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> +and with a <i>deepot</i> close by it would be such easy +work. That's what I call helping folks to help +themselves. Won't it be grand?"</p> + +<p>Becky looked so enthusiastic that Emily could +not remain uninterested, though market-gardening +did not sound very romantic.</p> + +<p>"I hope it will come, and next year we shall +see you all hard at it. What a good woman +Mrs. Taylor is!"</p> + +<p>"Ain't she? and the sad part of it is, she can't +do and enjoy all she wants to, because her health +is so poor. She was a country girl, you know, +and went to work in the city as waiter in a +boarding-house. A rich man fell in love with +her and married her, and she took care of him +for years, and he left her all his money. She +was quite broken down, but she wanted to make +his name loved and honored after his death, as +he hadn't done any good while he lived; so she +gives away heaps, and is never tired of helping +poor folks and doing all sorts of grand things to +make the world better. I call that splendid!"</p> + +<p>"So do I, yet it is only what you are doing in +a small way, Becky," said Mrs. Spenser, as the +girl paused out of breath. "Mrs. Taylor clears +the stones out of people's paths, making their +road easier to climb than hers has been, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> +leaving behind her fruitful fields for others to +reap. This is a better work than making verses, +for it is the real poetry of life, and brings to +those who give themselves to it, no matter in +what humble ways, something sweeter than fame +and more enduring than fortune."</p> + +<p>"So it does! I see that now, and know why +we love Father as we do, and want to keep +what he worked so hard to give us. He used to +say every stone cleared away was just so much +help to the boys; and he used to tell me his plans +as I trotted after him round the farm, helping all +I could, being the oldest, and like him, he said."</p> + +<p>Becky paused with full eyes, for not even to +these good friends could she ever tell the shifts +and struggles in which she had bravely borne her +part during the long hard years that had wrested +the little homestead from the stony-hearted hills.</p> + +<p>The musical chime of a distant clock reminded +her that supper time was near, and she +sprang up as if much refreshed by this pleasant +rest by the way-side. As she pulled out her +handkerchief, a little roll of pale blue ribbon fell +from her pocket, and Emily caught it up, exclaiming +mischievously, "Are you going to +make yourself fine next Sunday, when Moses +Pennel calls, Becky?"</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 357px;"> +<img src="images/gs03b.jpg" width="357" height="575" alt="Just as they were parting for bed, in rushed one of the boys with the exciting news." /> +<span class="caption">“Just as they were parting for bed, in rushed one of the boys with the exciting +news.”—<span class="smcap">Page 45.</span></span> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span></p> + +<p>The girl laughed and blushed as she said, +carefully folding up the ribbon,—</p> + +<p>"I'm going to do something with it that I like +a sight better than that. Poor Moses won't +come any more, I guess. I'm not going to +leave Mother till the girls can take my place, +and only then to teach, if I can get a good school +somewhere near."</p> + +<p>"We shall see!" and Emily nodded wisely.</p> + +<p>"We shall!" and Becky nodded decidedly, +as she trudged on up the steep hill beside Mrs. +Spenser, while Emily walked slowly behind, +poking every stone she saw into the grass, unmindful +of the detriment to her delicate shoes, +being absorbed in a new and charming idea of +trying to follow Mrs. Taylor's example in a +small way.</p> + +<p>A week later the last night came, and just as +they were parting for bed, in rushed one of the +boys with the exciting news that the railroad +surveyors were in town, the folks talking about +the grand enterprise, and the fortune of the place +made forever.</p> + +<p>Great was the rejoicing in the old farm-house; +the boys cheered, the little girls danced, the two +mothers dropped a happy tear as they shook each +other's hands, and Emily embraced Becky, ten<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span>derly +exclaiming,—"There, you dear thing, is +a great stone shoved out of <i>your</i> way, and a +clear road to fortune at last; for I shall tell all +my friends to buy your butter and eggs, and +fruit and pigs, and everything you send to +market on that blessed railroad."</p> + +<p>"A keg of our best winter butter is going by +stage express to-morrow anyway; and when our +apples come, we shan't need a railroad to get 'em +to you, my darling dear," answered Becky, holding +the delicate girl in her arms with a look and +gesture half sisterly, half motherly, wholly fond +and grateful.</p> + +<p>When Emily got to her room, she found that +butter and apples were not all the humble souvenirs +offered in return for many comfortable +gifts to the whole family.</p> + +<p>On the table, in a pretty birch-bark cover, lay +several of Becky's best poems neatly copied, as +Emily had expressed a wish to keep them; and +round the rustic volume, like a ring of red gold, +lay a great braid of Becky's hair, tied with the +pale blue ribbon she had walked four miles to +buy, that her present might look its best.</p> + +<p>Of course there were more embraces and kisses, +and thanks and loving words, before Emily at +last lulled herself to sleep planning a Christmas<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> +box, which should supply every wish and want +of the entire family if she could find them out.</p> + +<p>Next morning they parted; but these were +not mere summer friends, and they did not lose +sight of one another, though their ways lay +far apart. Emily had found a new luxury to +bring more pleasure into life, a new medicine +to strengthen soul and body; and in helping +others, she helped herself wonderfully.</p> + +<p>Becky went steadily on her dutiful way, till +the homestead was free, the lads able to work +the farm alone, the girls old enough to fill her +place, and the good mother willing to rest at last +among her children. Then Becky gave herself +to teaching,—a noble task, for which she was +well fitted, and in which she found both profit +and pleasure, as she led her flock along the +paths from which she removed the stumbling-blocks +for their feet, as well as for her own. +She put her poetry into her life, and made of it +"a grand sweet song" in which beauty and +duty rhymed so well that the country girl became +a more useful, beloved, and honored woman +than if she had tried to sing for fame which +never satisfies.</p> + +<p>So each symbolical plant stood in its own +place, and lived its appointed life. The delicate<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> +fern grew in the conservatory among tea-roses +and camellias, adding grace to every bouquet of +which it formed a part, whether it faded in a +ball-room, or was carefully cherished by some +poor invalid's bed-side,—a frail thing, yet with +tenacious roots and strong stem, nourished by +memories of the rocky nook where it had learned +its lesson so well. The mountain-laurel clung +to the bleak hillside, careless of wintry wind and +snow, as its sturdy branches spread year by year, +with its evergreen leaves for Christmas cheer, +its rosy flowers for spring-time, its fresh beauty +free to all as it clothed the wild valley with a +charm that made a little poem of the lovely +spot where the pines whispered, woodbirds sang, +and the hidden brook told the sweet message it +brought from the mountain-top where it was +born.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/logo.png" width="200" height="163" alt="Logo"/> +</div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Mountain-Laurel and Maidenhair, by +Louisa May Alcott + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MOUNTAIN-LAUREL AND MAIDENHAIR *** + +***** This file should be named 37807-h.htm or 37807-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/7/8/0/37807/ + +Produced by Rory OConor, Suzanne Shell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Mountain-Laurel and Maidenhair + +Author: Louisa May Alcott + +Release Date: October 21, 2011 [EBook #37807] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MOUNTAIN-LAUREL AND MAIDENHAIR *** + + + + +Produced by Rory OConor, Suzanne Shell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + + + + + + + + + [Illustration: "Her eyes brightened as they fell upon a glass + of rosy laurel and delicate maidenhair fern."--FRONTISPIECE.] + + + + + MOUNTAIN-LAUREL + AND + MAIDENHAIR + + + BY + LOUISA M. ALCOTT + + AUTHOR OF "LITTLE MEN," "LITTLE WOMEN," "MAY + FLOWERS," "POPPIES AND WHEAT," ETC. + + + Illustrated + + + BOSTON + LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY + + + + + _Copyright_, 1887, + BY LOUISA M. ALCOTT. + + _Copyright_, 1903, + BY JOHN S. P. ALCOTT. + + + University Press + JOHN WILSON AND SON, CAMBRIDGE, U.S.A. + + + + +MOUNTAIN-LAUREL AND MAIDENHAIR + + +"Here's your breakfast, miss. I hope it's right. Your mother showed me +how to fix it, and said I'd find a cup up here." + +"Take that blue one. I have not much appetite, and can't eat if things +are not nice and pretty. I like the flowers. I've been longing for some +ever since I saw them last night." + +The first speaker was a red-haired, freckled-faced girl, in a brown +calico dress and white apron, with a tray in her hands and an air of +timid hospitality in her manner; the second a pale, pretty creature, in +a white wrapper and blue net, sitting in a large chair, looking about +her with the languid interest of an invalid in a new place. Her eyes +brightened as they fell upon a glass of rosy laurel and delicate +maidenhair fern that stood among the toast and eggs, strawberries and +cream, on the tray. + +"Our laurel is jest in blow, and I'm real glad you come in time to see +it. I'll bring you a lot, as soon's ever I get time to go for it." + +As she spoke, the plain girl replaced the ugly crockery cup and saucer +with the pretty china ones pointed out to her, arranged the dishes, and +waited to see if anything else was needed. + +"What is your name, please?" asked the pretty girl, refreshing herself +with a draught of new milk. + +"Rebecca. Mother thought I'd better wait on you; the little girls are so +noisy and apt to forget. Wouldn't you like a piller to your back? you +look so kind of feeble seems as if you wanted to be propped up a mite." + +There was so much compassion and good-will in the face and voice, that +Emily accepted the offer, and let Rebecca arrange a cushion behind her; +then, while the one ate daintily, and the other stirred about an inner +room, the talk went on,--for two girls are seldom long silent when +together. + +"I think the air is going to suit me, for I slept all night and never +woke till Mamma had been up ever so long and got things all nicely +settled," said Emily, graciously, when the fresh strawberries had been +enjoyed, and the bread and butter began to vanish. + +"I'm real glad you like it: most folks do, if they don't mind it being +plain and quiet up here. It's gayer down at the hotel, but the air ain't +half so good, and delicate folks generally like our old place best," +answered Becky, as she tossed over a mattress and shook out the sheets +with a brisk, capable air pleasant to see. + +"I wanted to go to the hotel, but the doctor said it would be too noisy +for me, so Mamma was glad to find rooms here. I didn't think a +farm-house _could_ be so pleasant. That view is perfectly splendid!" and +Emily sat up to gaze delightedly out of the window, below which spread +the wide intervale, through which the river ran with hay-fields on +either side, while along the green slopes of the hills lay farm-houses +with garden plots, and big barns waiting for the harvest; and beyond, +the rocky, wooded pastures dotted with cattle and musical with +cow-bells, brooks, and birds. + +A balmy wind kissed a little color into the pale cheeks, the listless +eyes brightened as they looked, and the fretful lines vanished from lips +that smiled involuntarily at the sweet welcome Nature gave the city +child come to rest and play and grow gay and rosy in her green lap. + +Becky watched her with interest, and was glad to see how soon the +new-comer felt the charm of the place, for the girl loved her mountain +home, and thought the old farm-house the loveliest spot in the world. + +"When you get stronger I can show you lots of nice views round here. +There's a woodsy place behind the house that's just lovely. Down by the +laurel bushes is _my_ favorite spot, and among the rocks is a cave where +I keep things handy when I get a resting-spell now and then, and want to +be quiet. Can't get much at home, when there's boarders and five +children round in vacation time." + +Becky laughed as she spoke, and there was a sweet motherly look in her +plain face, as she glanced at the three little red heads bobbing about +the door-yard below, where hens cackled, a pet lamb fed, and the old +white dog lay blinking in the sun. + +"I like children; we have none at home, and Mamma makes such a baby of +me I'm almost ashamed sometimes. I want her to have a good rest now, for +she has taken care of me all winter and needs it. You shall be my nurse, +if I need one; but I hope to be so well soon that I can see to myself. +It's so tiresome to be ill!" and Emily sighed as she leaned back among +her pillows, with a glance at the little glass which showed her a thin +face and shorn head. + +"It must be! I never was sick, but I have taken care of sick folks, and +have a sight of sympathy for 'em. Mother says I make a pretty good +nurse, being strong and quiet," answered Becky, plumping up pillows and +folding towels with a gentle despatch which was very grateful to the +invalid, who had dreaded a noisy, awkward serving-maid. + +"Never ill! how nice that must be! I'm always having colds and +headaches, and fusses of some kind. What do you do to keep well, +Rebecca?" asked Emily, watching her with interest, as she came in to +remove the tray. + +"Nothing but work; I haven't time to be sick, and when I'm tuckered out, +I go and rest over yonder. Then I'm all right, and buckle to again, as +smart as ever;" and every freckle in Becky's rosy face seemed to shine +with cheerful strength and courage. + +"I'm 'tuckered out' doing nothing," said Emily, amused with the new +expression, and eager to try a remedy which showed such fine results in +this case. "I shall visit your pet places and do a little work as soon +as I am able, and see if it won't set me up. Now I can only dawdle, +doze, and read a little. Will you please put those books here on the +table? I shall want them by-and-by." + +Emily pointed to a pile of blue and gold volumes lying on a trunk, and +Becky dusted her hands as she took them up with an air of reverence, for +she read on the backs of the volumes names which made her eyes sparkle. + +"Do you care for poetry?" asked Emily, surprised at the girl's look and +manner. + +"Guess I do! don't get much except the pieces I cut out of papers, but I +love 'em, and stick 'em in an old ledger, and keep it down in my cubby +among the rocks. I do love _that_ man's pieces. They seem to go right to +the spot somehow;" and Becky smiled at the name of Whittier as if the +sweetest of our poets was a dear old friend of hers. + +"I like Tennyson better. Do you know him?" asked Emily, with a superior +air, for the idea of this farmer's daughter knowing anything about +poetry amused her. + +"Oh yes, I've got a number of his pieces in my book, and I'm fond of +'em. But this man makes things so kind of true and natural I feel at +home with _him_. And this one I've longed to read, though I guess I +can't understand much of it. His 'Bumble Bee' was just lovely; with the +grass and columbines and the yellow breeches of the bee. I'm never tired +of that;" and Becky's face woke up into something like beauty as she +glanced hungrily at the Emerson while she dusted the delicate cover that +hid the treasures she coveted. + +"I don't care much for him, but Mamma does. I like romantic poems, and +ballads, and songs; don't like descriptions of clouds, and fields, and +bees, and farmers," said Emily, showing plainly that even Emerson's +simplest poems were far above her comprehension as yet, because she +loved sentiment more than Nature. + +"I do, because I know 'em better than love and the romantic stuff most +poetry tells about. But I don't pretend to judge, I'm glad of anything +I can get. Now if you don't want me I'll pick up my dishes and go to +work." + +With that Becky went away, leaving Emily to rest and dream with her eyes +on the landscape which was giving her better poetry than any her books +held. She told her mother about the odd girl, and was sure she would be +amusing if she did not forget her place and try to be friends. + +"She is a good creature, my dear, her mother's main stay, and works +beyond her strength, I am sure. Be kind to the poor girl, and put a +little pleasure into her life if you can," answered Mrs. Spenser, as she +moved about, settling comforts and luxuries for her invalid. + +"I shall _have_ to talk to her, as there is no other person of my age in +the house. How are the school marms? shall you get on with them, Mamma? +It will be so lonely here for us both, if we don't make friends with +some one." + +"Most intelligent and amiable women all three, and we shall have +pleasant times together, I am sure. You may safely cultivate Becky; Mrs. +Taylor told me she was a remarkably bright girl, though she may not look +it." + +"Well, I'll see. But I do hate freckles and big red hands, and round +shoulders. She can't help it, I suppose, but ugly things fret me." + +"Remember that she has no time to be pretty, and be glad she is so neat +and willing. Shall we read, dear? I'm ready now." + +Emily consented, and listened for an hour or two while the pleasant +voice beside her conjured away all her vapors with some of Mrs. Ewing's +charming tales. + +"The grass is dry now, and I want to stroll on that green lawn before +lunch. You rest, Mamma dear, and let me make discoveries all alone," +proposed Emily, when the sun shone warmly, and the instinct of all young +creatures for air and motion called her out. + +So, with her hat and wrap, and book and parasol, she set forth to +explore the new land in which she found herself. + +Down the wide, creaking stairs and out upon the door-stone she went, +pausing there for a moment to decide where first to go. The sound of +some one singing in the rear of the house led her in that direction, and +turning the corner she made her first pleasant discovery. A hill rose +steeply behind the farm-house, and leaning from the bank was an old +apple-tree, shading a spring that trickled out from the rocks and +dropped into a mossy trough below. Up the tree had grown a wild +grape-vine, making a green canopy over the great log which served as a +seat, and some one had planted maidenhair ferns about both seat and +spring to flourish beautifully in the damp, shady spot. + +"Oh, how pretty! I'll go and sit there. It looks clean, and I can see +what is going on in that big kitchen, and hear the singing. I suppose +it's Becky's little sisters by the racket." + +Emily established herself on the lichen-covered log with her feet upon a +stone, and sat enjoying the musical tinkle of the water, with her eyes +on the delicate ferns stirring in the wind, and the lively jingle of the +multiplication-table chanted by childish voices in her ear. + +Presently two little girls with a great pan of beans came to do their +work on the back door-step, a third was seen washing dishes at a window, +and Becky's brown-spotted gown flew about the kitchen as if a very +energetic girl wore it. A woman's voice was heard giving directions, as +the speaker was evidently picking chickens somewhere out of sight. + +A little of the talk reached Emily and both amused and annoyed her, for +it proved that the country people were not as stupid as they looked. + +"Oh, well, we mustn't mind if she _is_ notional and kind of wearing; +she's been sick, and it will take time to get rid of her fretty ways. +Jest be pleasant, and take no notice, and that nice mother of hers will +make it all right," said the woman's voice. + +"How anybody with every mortal thing to be happy with _can_ be +out-of-sorts passes me. She fussed about every piller, chair, trunk, and +mite of food last night, and kept that poor tired lady trotting till I +was provoked. She's right pleasant this morning though, and as pretty as +a picture in her ruffled gown and that blue thing on her head," answered +Becky from the pantry, as she rattled out the pie-board, little dreaming +who sat hidden behind the grape-vine festoons that veiled the corner by +the spring. + +"Well, she's got redder hair 'n' we have, so she needn't be so grand and +try to hide it with blue nets," added one little voice. + +"Yes, and it's ever so much shorter 'n' ours, and curls all over her +head like Daisy's wool. I should think such a big girl would feel real +ashamed without no braids," said the other child, proudly surveying the +tawny mane that hung over her shoulders,--for like most red-haired +people all the children were blessed with luxuriant crops of every shade +from golden auburn to regular carrots. + +"I think it's lovely. Suppose it had to be cut off when she had the +fever. Wish I could get rid of my mop, it's such a bother;" and Becky +was seen tying a clean towel over the great knot that made her head look +very like a copper kettle. + +"Now fly round, deary, and get them pies ready. I'll have these fowls on +in a minute, and then go to my butter. You run off and see if you can't +find some wild strawberries for the poor girl, soon's ever you are +through with them beans, children. We must kind of pamper her up for a +spell till her appetite comes back," said the mother. + +Here the chat ended, and soon the little girls were gone, leaving Becky +alone rolling out pie-crust before the pantry window. As she worked her +lips moved, and Emily, still peeping through the leaves, wondered what +she was saying, for a low murmur rose and fell, emphasized now and then +with a thump of the rolling-pin. + +"I mean to go and find out. If I stand on that wash-bench I can look in +and see her work. I'll show them all that _I_'m _not_ 'fussy,' and can +be 'right pleasant' if I like." + +With this wise resolution Emily went down the little path, and after +pausing to examine the churn set out to dry, and the row of pans shining +on a neighboring shelf, made her way to the window, mounted the bench +while Becky's back was turned, and pushing away the morning-glory vines +and scarlet beans that ran up on either side peeped in with such a +smiling face that the crossest cook could not have frowned on her as an +intruder. + +"May I see you work? I can't eat pies, but I like to watch people make +them. Do you mind?" + +"Not a bit. I'd ask you to come in, but it's dreadful hot here, and not +much room," answered Becky, crimping round the pastry before she poured +in the custard. "I'm going to make a nice little pudding for you; your +mother said you liked 'em; or would you rather have whipped cream with a +mite of jelly in it?" asked Becky, anxious to suit her new boarder. + +"Whichever is easiest to make. I don't care what I eat. Do tell me what +you were saying. It sounded like poetry," said Emily, leaning both +elbows on the wide ledge with a pale pink morning-glory kissing her +cheek, and a savory odor reaching her nose. + +"Oh, I was mumbling some verses. I often do when I work, it sort of +helps me along; but it must sound dreadful silly," and Becky blushed as +if caught in some serious fault. + +"I do it, and it's a great comfort when I lie awake. I should think you +_would_ want something to help you along, you work so hard. Do you like +it, Becky?" + +The familiar name, the kind tone, made the plain face brighten with +pleasure as its owner said, while she carefully filled a pretty bowl +with a golden mixture rich with fresh eggs and country milk,-- + +"No, I don't, but I ought to. Mother isn't as strong as she used to be, +and there's a sight to do, and the children to be brought up, and the +mortgage to be paid off; so if _I_ don't fly round, who will? We are +doing real well now, for Mr. Walker manages the farm and gives us our +share, so our living is all right; then boarders in summer and my school +in winter help a deal, and every year the boys can do more, so I'd be a +real sinner to complain if I do have to step lively all day." + +Becky smiled as she spoke, and straightened her bent shoulders as if +settling her burden for another trudge along the path of duty. + +"Do you keep school? Why, how old are you, Becky?" asked Emily, much +impressed by this new discovery. + +"I'm eighteen. I took the place of a teacher who got sick last fall, and +I kept school all winter. Folks seemed to like me, and I'm going to have +the same place this year. I'm so glad, for I needn't go away, and the +pay is pretty good, as the school is large and the children do well. You +can see the school-house down the valley, that red brick one where the +roads meet;" and Becky pointed a floury finger, with an air of pride +that was pleasant to see. + +Emily glanced at the little red house where the sun shone hotly in +summer, and all the winds of heaven must rage wildly in winter time, for +it stood, as country schools usually do, in the barest, most uninviting +spot for miles around. + +"Isn't it awful down there in winter?" she asked, with a shiver at the +idea of spending days shut up in that forlorn place, with a crowd of +rough country children. + +"Pretty cold, but we have plenty of wood, and we are used to snow and +gales up here. We often coast down, the whole lot of us, and that is +great fun. We take our dinners and have games noon-spells, and so we get +on first rate; some of my boys are big fellows, older than I am, and +they clear the roads and make the fire and look after us, and we are +real happy together." + +Emily found it so impossible to imagine happiness under such +circumstances that she changed the subject by asking in a tone which had +unconsciously grown more respectful since this last revelation of +Becky's abilities,-- + +"If you do so well here, why don't you try for a larger school in a +better place?" + +"Oh, I couldn't leave mother yet; I hope to some day, when the girls are +older, and the boys able to get on alone. But I can't go now, for +there's a sight of things to do, and mother is always laid up with +rheumatism in cold weather. So much butter-making down cellar is bad for +her; but she won't let me do that in summer, so I take care of her in +winter. I can see to things night and morning, and through the day she's +quiet, and sits piecing carpet-rags and resting up for next spring. We +made and wove all the carpets in the house, except the parlor one. Mrs. +Taylor gave us that, and the curtains, and the easy-chair. Mother takes +a sight of comfort in that." + +"Mrs. Taylor is the lady who first came to board here, and told us and +others about it," said Emily. + +"Yes, and she's the kindest lady in the world! I'll tell you all about +her some day, it's real interesting; now I must see to my pies, and get +the vegetables on," answered Becky, glancing at the gay clock in the +kitchen with an anxious look. + +"Then I won't waste any more of your precious time. May I sit in that +pretty place; or is it your private bower?" asked Emily, as she +dismounted from the wash-bench. + +"Yes, indeed you may. That's mother's resting place when work is done. +Father made the spring long ago, and I put the ferns there. She can't go +rambling round, and she likes pretty things, so we fixed it up for her, +and she takes comfort there nights." + +Becky bustled off to the oven with her pies, and Emily roamed away to +the big barn to lie on the hay, enjoying the view down the valley, as +she thought over what she had seen and heard, and very naturally +contrasted her own luxurious and tenderly guarded life with this other +girl's, so hard and dull and narrow. Working all summer and teaching all +winter in that dismal little school-house, with no change but home cares +and carpet-weaving! It looked horrible to pleasure-loving Emily, who +led the happy, care-free life of girls of her class, with pleasures of +all sorts, and a future of still greater luxury, variety, and happiness, +opening brightly before her. + +It worried her to think of any one being contented with such a meagre +share of the good things of life, when she was unsatisfied in spite of +the rich store showered upon her. She could not understand it, and fell +asleep wishing every one could be comfortable,--it was so annoying to +see them grubbing in kitchens, teaching in bleak school-houses among +snow-drifts, and wearing ugly calico gowns. + +A week or two of quiet, country fare and the bracing mountain air worked +wonders for the invalid, and every one rejoiced to see the pale cheeks +begin to grow round and rosy, the languid eyes to brighten, and the +feeble girl who used to lie on her sofa half the day now go walking +about with her alpenstock, eager to explore all the pretty nooks among +the hills. Her mother blessed Mrs. Taylor for suggesting this wholesome +place. The tired "school marms," as Emily called the three young women +who were their fellow-boarders, congratulated her as well as themselves +on the daily improvement in strength and spirits all felt; and Becky +exulted in the marvellous effects of her native air, aided by mother's +good cookery and the cheerful society of the children, whom the good +girl considered the most remarkable and lovable youngsters in the world. + +Emily felt like the queen of this little kingdom, and was regarded as +such by every one, for with returning health she lost her fretful ways, +and, living with simple people, soon forgot her girlish airs and +vanities, becoming very sweet and friendly with all about her. The +children considered her a sort of good fairy who could grant wishes with +magical skill, as various gifts plainly proved. The boys were her +devoted servants, ready to run errands, "hitch up" and take her to drive +at any hour, or listen in mute delight when she sang to her guitar in +the summer twilight. + +But to Becky she was a special godsend and comfort, for before the first +month had gone they were good friends, and Emily had made a discovery +which filled her head with brilliant plans for Becky's future, in spite +of her mother's warnings, and the sensible girl's own reluctance to be +dazzled by enthusiastic prophecies and dreams. + +It came about in this way. Some three weeks after the two girls met, +Emily went one evening to their favorite trysting-place,--Becky's bower +among the laurels. It was a pretty nook in the shadow of a great gray +bowlder near the head of the green valley which ran down to spread into +the wide intervale below. A brook went babbling among the stones and +grass and sweet-ferns, while all the slope was rosy with laurel-flowers +in their time, as the sturdy bushes grew thickly on the hill-side, down +the valley, and among the woods that made a rich background for these +pink and white bouquets arranged with Nature's own careless grace. + +Emily liked this spot, and ever since she had been strong enough to +reach it, loved to climb up and sit there with book and work, enjoying +the lovely panorama before her. Floating mists often gave her a constant +succession of pretty pictures; now a sunny glimpse of the distant lake, +then the church spire peeping above the hill, or a flock of sheep +feeding in the meadow, a gay procession of young pilgrims winding up the +mountain, or a black cloud heavy with a coming storm, welcome because of +the glorious rainbow and its shadow which would close the pageant. + +Unconsciously the girl grew to feel not only the beauty but the value of +these quiet hours, to find a new peace, refreshment, and happiness, +bubbling up in her heart as naturally as the brook gushed out among the +mossy rocks, and went singing away through hay-fields and gardens, and +by dusty roads, till it met the river and rolled on to the sea. +Something dimly stirred in her, and the healing spirit that haunts such +spots did its sweet ministering till the innocent soul began to see that +life was not perfect without labor as well as love, duty as well as +happiness, and that true contentment came from within, not from without. + +On the evening we speak of, she went to wait for Becky, who would join +her as soon as the after-supper chores were done. In the little cave +which held a few books, a dipper, and a birch-bark basket for berries, +Emily kept a sketching block and a box of pencils, and often amused +herself by trying to catch some of the lovely scenes before her. These +efforts usually ended in a humbler attempt, and a good study of an +oak-tree, a bit of rock, or a clump of ferns was the result. This +evening the sunset was so beautiful she could not draw, and remembering +that somewhere in Becky's scrap-book there was a fine description of +such an hour by some poet, she pulled out the shabby old volume, and +began to turn over the leaves. + +She had never cared to look at it but once, having read all the best of +its contents in more attractive volumes, so Becky kept it tucked away in +the farther corner of her rustic closet, and evidently thought it a safe +place to conceal a certain little secret which Emily now discovered. As +she turned the stiff pages filled with all sorts of verses, good, bad, +and indifferent, a sheet of paper appeared on which was scribbled these +lines in school-girl handwriting:-- + +MOUNTAIN-LAUREL + + My bonnie flower, with truest joy + Thy welcome face I see, + The world grows brighter to my eyes, + And summer comes with thee. + My solitude now finds a friend, + And after each hard day, + I in my mountain garden walk, + To rest, or sing, or pray. + + All down the rocky slope is spread + Thy veil of rosy snow, + And in the valley by the brook, + Thy deeper blossoms grow. + The barren wilderness grows fair, + Such beauty dost thou give; + And human eyes and Nature's heart + Rejoice that thou dost live. + + Each year I wait thy coming, dear, + Each year I love thee more, + For life grows hard, and much I need + Thy honey for my store. + So, like a hungry bee, I sip + Sweet lessons from thy cup, + And sitting at a flower's feet, + My soul learns to look up. + + No laurels shall I ever win, + No splendid blossoms bear, + But gratefully receive and use + God's blessed sun and air; + And, blooming where my lot is cast + Grow happy and content, + Making some barren spot more fair, + For a humble life well spent. + +[Illustration: "She wrote it herself!"--PAGE 23.] + +"She wrote it herself! I can't believe it!" said Emily, as she put down +the paper, looking rather startled, for she _did_ believe it, and felt +as if she had suddenly looked into a fellow-creature's heart. "I thought +her just an ordinary girl, and here she is a poet, writing verses that +make me want to cry! I don't suppose they _are_ very good, but they seem +to come right out of her heart, and touch me with the longing and the +patience or the piety in them. Well, I _am_ surprised!" and Emily read +the lines again, seeing the faults more plainly than before, but still +feeling that the girl put herself into them, vainly trying to express +what the wild flower was to her in the loneliness which comes to those +who have a little spark of the divine fire burning in their souls. + +"Shall I tell her I've found it out? I must! and see if I can't get her +verses printed. Of course she has more tucked away somewhere. That is +what she hums to herself when she's at work, and won't tell me about +when I ask. Sly thing! to be so bashful and hide her gift. I'll tease +her a bit and see what she says. Oh dear, I wish _I_ could do it! +Perhaps she'll be famous some day, and then I'll have the glory of +discovering her." + +With that consolation Emily turned over the pages of the ledger and +found several more bits of verse, some very good for an untaught girl, +others very faulty, but all having a certain strength of feeling and +simplicity of language unusual in the effusions of young maidens at the +sentimental age. + +Emily had a girlish admiration for talent of any kind, and being fond of +poetry, was especially pleased to find that her humble friend possessed +the power of writing it. Of course she exaggerated Becky's talent, and +as she waited for her, felt sure that she had discovered a feminine +Burns among the New Hampshire hills, for all the verses were about +natural and homely objects, touched into beauty by sweet words or tender +sentiment. She had time to build a splendid castle in the air and settle +Becky in it with a crown of glory on her head, before the quiet figure +in a faded sunbonnet came slowly up the slope with the glow of sunset on +a tired but tranquil face. + +"Sit here and have a good rest, while I talk to you," said Emily, eager +to act the somewhat dramatic scene she had planned. Becky sunk upon the +red cushion prepared for her, and sat looking down at the animated +speaker, as Emily, perched on a mossy stone before her, began the +performance. + +"Becky, did you ever hear of the Goodale children? They lived in the +country and wrote poetry and grew to be famous." + +"Oh yes, I've read their poems and like 'em very much. Do you know 'em?" +and Becky looked interested at once. + +"No, but I once met a girl who was something like them, only she didn't +have such an easy time as they did, with a father to help, and a nice +Sky-farm, and good luck generally. I've tried to write verses myself, +but I always get into a muddle, and give it up. This makes me +interested in other girls who _can_ do it, and I want to help my friend. +I'm _sure_ she has talent, and I'd so like to give her a lift in some +way. Let me read you a piece of hers and see what you think of it." + +"Do!" and Becky threw off the sunbonnet, folded her hands round her +knees, and composed herself to listen with such perfect unconsciousness +of what was coming that Emily both laughed at the joke and blushed at +the liberty she felt she was taking with the poor girl's carefully +hidden secret. + +Becky was sure now that Emily was going to read something of her own +after this artful introduction, and began to smile as the paper was +produced and the first four lines read in a tone that was half timid, +half triumphant. Then with a cry she seized and crumpled up the paper, +exclaiming almost fiercely,-- + +"It's mine! Where did you get it? How dar'st you touch it?" + +Emily fell upon her knees with a face and voice so full of penitence, +pleasure, sympathy, and satisfaction, that Becky's wrath was appeased +before her friend's explanation ended with these soothing and delightful +words,-- + +"That's all, dear, and I beg your pardon. But I'm sure you will be +famous if you keep on, and I shall yet see a volume of poems by Rebecca +Moore of Rocky Nook, New Hampshire." + +Becky hid her face as if shame, surprise, wonder, and joy filled her +heart too full and made a few happy tears drop on the hands so worn with +hard work, when they ached to be holding a pen and trying to record the +fancies that sung in her brain as ceaselessly as the soft sough of the +pines or the ripple of the brook murmured in her ear when she sat here +alone. She could not express the vague longings that stirred in her +soul; she could only feel and dimly strive to understand and utter them, +with no thought of fame or fortune,--for she was a humble creature, and +never knew that the hardships of her life were pressing out the virtues +of her nature as the tread of careless feet crush the sweet perfume from +wild herbs. + +Presently she looked up, deeply touched by Emily's words and caresses, +and her blue eyes shone like stars as her face beamed with something +finer than mere beauty, for the secrets of her innocent heart were known +to this friend now, and it was very sweet to accept the first draught of +confidence and praise. + +"I don't mind much, but I was scared for a minute. No one knows but +Mother, and she laughs at me, though she don't care if it makes me +happy. I'm glad you like my scribbling, but really I never think or hope +of being anybody. I couldn't, you know! but it's real nice to have you +say I _might_ and to make believe for a little while." + +"But why not, Becky? The Goodale girls did, and half the poets in the +world were poor, ignorant people at first, you know. It only needs time +and help, and the gift will grow, and people see it; and then the glory +and the money will come," cried Emily, quite carried away by her own +enthusiasm and good-will. + +"Could I get any money by these things?" asked Becky, looking at the +crumpled paper lying under a laurel-bush. + +"Of course you could, dear! Let me have some of them, and I'll show you +that I know good poetry when I see it. You will believe if some +bank-bills come with the paper the verses appear in, I hope?" + +Blind to any harm she might do by exciting vain hopes in her eagerness +to cheer and help, Emily made this rash proposal in all good faith, +meaning to pay for the verses herself if no editor was found to accept +them. + +Becky looked half bewildered by this brilliant prospect, and took a long +breath, as if some hand had lifted a heavy burden a little way from her +weary back, for stronger than ambition for herself was love for her +family, and the thought of help for them was sweeter than any dream of +fame. + +"Yes, I would! oh, if I only _could_, I'd be the happiest girl in the +world! But I can't believe it, Emily. I heard Mrs. Taylor say that only +the _very best_ poetry paid, and mine is poor stuff, I know well +enough." + +"Of course it needs polishing and practice and all that; but I'm sure it +is oceans better than half the sentimental twaddle we see in the papers, +and I _know_ that some of those pieces _are_ paid for, because I have a +friend who is in a newspaper office, and he told me so. Yours are quaint +and simple and some very original. I'm sure that ballad of the old house +is lovely, and I want to send it to Whittier. Mamma knows him; it's the +sort he likes, and he is so kind to every one, he will criticise it, and +be interested when she tells him about you. Do let me!" + +"I never could in the world! It would be so bold, Mother would think I +was crazy. I love Mr. Whittier, but I wouldn't dar'st to show him my +nonsense, though reading his beautiful poetry helps me ever so much." + +Becky looked and spoke as if her breath had been taken away by this +audacious proposal; and yet a sudden delicious hope sprung up in her +heart that there might, perhaps, be a spark of real virtue in the little +fire which burned within her, warming and brightening her dull life. + +"Let us ask Mamma; she will tell us what is best to do first, for she +knows all sorts of literary people, and won't say any more than you want +her to. I'm bent on having my way, Becky, and the more modest you are, +the surer I am that you are a genius. Real geniuses always _are_ shy; so +you just make up your mind to give me the best of your pieces, and let +me prove that I'm right." + +It was impossible to resist such persuasive words, and Becky soon +yielded to the little siren who was luring her out of her safe, small +pool into the deeper water that looks so blue and smooth till the +venturesome paper boats get into the swift eddies, or run aground upon +the rocks and sandbars. + +The greatest secrecy was to be preserved, and no one but Mrs. Spenser +was to know what a momentous enterprise was afoot. The girls sat +absorbed in their brilliant plans till it was nearly dark, then groped +their way home hand in hand, leaving another secret for the laurels to +keep and dream over through their long sleep, for blossom time was past, +and the rosy faces turning pale in the July sun. + +Neither of the girls forgot the talk they had that night in Emily's +room, for she led her captive straight to her mother, and told her all +their plans and aspirations without a moment's delay. + +Mrs. Spenser much regretted her daughter's well-meant enthusiasm, but +fearing harm might be done, very wisely tried to calm the innocent +excitement of both by the quiet matter-of-fact way in which she listened +to the explanation Emily gave her, read the verses timidly offered by +Becky, and then said, kindly but firmly:-- + +"This is not poetry, my dear girls, though the lines run smoothly +enough, and the sentiment is sweet. It would bring neither fame nor +money, and Rebecca puts more real truth, beauty, and poetry into her +dutiful daily life than in any lines she has written." + +"We had such a lovely plan for Becky to come to town with me, and see +the world, and write, and be famous. How can you spoil it all?" + +"My foolish little daughter, I must prevent you from spoiling this good +girl's life by your rash projects. Becky will see that I am wise, though +you do not, and _she_ will understand this verse from my favorite poet, +and lay it to heart:-- + + "So near is grandeur to our dust, + So nigh is God to man, + When Duty whispers low, 'Thou must!' + The youth replies, 'I can!'" + +"I do! I will! please go on," and Becky's troubled eyes grew clear and +steadfast as she took the words home to herself, resolving to live up to +them. + +"Oh, mother!" cried Emily, thinking her very cruel to nip their budding +hopes in this way. + +"I know you won't believe it now, nor be able to see all that I mean +perhaps, but time will teach you both to own that I am right, and to +value the substance more than the shadow," continued Mrs. Spenser. "Many +girls write verses and think they are poets; but it is only a passing +mood, and fortunately for the world, and for them also, it soon dies out +in some more genuine work or passion. Very few have the real gift, and +those to whom it _is_ given wait and work and slowly reach the height of +their powers. Many delude themselves, and try to persuade the world that +they can sing; but it is waste of time, and ends in disappointment, as +the mass of sentimental rubbish we all see plainly proves. Write your +little verses, my dear, when the spirit moves,--it is a harmless +pleasure, a real comfort, and a good lesson for you; but do not neglect +higher duties or deceive yourself with false hopes and vain dreams. +'First live, then write,' is a good motto for ambitious young people. A +still better for us all is, 'Do the duty that lies nearest;' and the +faithful performance of that, no matter how humble it is, will be the +best help for whatever talent may lie hidden in us, ready to bloom when +the time comes. Remember this, and do not let my enthusiastic girl's +well-meant but unwise prophecies and plans unsettle you, and unfit you +for the noble work you are doing." + +"Thank you, ma'am! I _will_ remember; I know you are right, and I won't +be upset by foolish notions. I never imagined before that I _could_ be +a poet; but it sounded so sort of splendid, I thought maybe it _might_ +happen to me, by-and-by, as it does to other folks. I won't lot on it, +but settle right down and do my work cheerful." + +As she listened, Becky's face had grown pale and serious, even a little +sad; but as she answered, her eyes shone, her lips were firm, and her +plain face almost beautiful with the courage and confidence that sprung +up within her. She saw the wisdom of her friend's advice, felt the +kindness of showing her the mistake frankly, and was grateful for +it,--conscious in her own strong, loving heart that it _was_ better to +live and work for others than to dream and strive for herself alone. + +Mrs. Spenser was both surprised and touched by the girl's look, words, +and manner, and her respect much increased by the courage and good +temper with which she saw her lovely castle in the air vanish like +smoke, leaving the hard reality looking harder than ever, after this +little flight into the fairy regions of romance. + +She talked long with the girls, and gave them the counsel all eager +young people need, yet are very slow to accept till experience teaches +them its worth. As the friend of many successful literary people, Mrs. +Spenser was constantly receiving the confidences of unfledged +scribblers, each of whom was sure that he or she had something valuable +to add to the world's literature. Her advice was always the same, "Work +and wait;" and only now and then was a young poet or author found enough +in earnest to do both, and thereby prove to themselves and others either +that they _did_ possess power, or did not, and so settle the question +forever. "First live, then write," proved a _quietus_ for many, and "Do +the duty that lies nearest" satisfied the more sincere that they could +be happy without fame. So, thanks to this wise and kindly woman, a large +number of worthy youths and maidens ceased dreaming and fell to work, +and the world was spared reams of feeble verse and third-rate romances. + +After that night Becky spent fewer spare hours in her nest, and more in +reading with Emily, who lent her books and helped her to understand +them,--both much assisted by Mrs. Spenser, who marked passages, +suggested authors, and explained whatever puzzled them. Very happy bits +of time were these, and very precious to both, as Emily learned to see +and appreciate the humbler, harder side of life, and Becky got +delightful glimpses into the beautiful world of art, poetry, and truth, +which gave her better food for heart and brain than sentimental musings +or blind efforts to satisfy the hunger of her nature with verse-writing. + +Their favorite places were in the big barn, on the front porch, or by +the spring. This last was Emily's schoolroom, and she both taught and +learned many useful lessons there. + +One day as Becky came to rest a few minutes and shell peas, Emily put +down her book to help; and as the pods flew, she said, nodding toward +the delicate ferns that grew thickly all about the trough, the rock, and +the grassy bank,-- + +"We have these in our greenhouse, but I never saw them growing wild +before, and I don't find them anywhere up here. How did you get such +beauties, and make them do so well?" + +"Oh, they grow in nooks on the mountain hidden under the taller ferns, +and in sly corners. But they don't grow like these, and die soon unless +transplanted and taken good care of. They always make me think of +you,--so graceful and delicate, and just fit to live with tea-roses in +a hot-house, and go to balls in beautiful ladies' _bo_kays," answered +Becky, smiling at her new friend, always so dainty, and still so +delicate in spite of the summer's rustication. + +"Thank you! I suppose I shall never be very strong or able to do much; +so I _am_ rather like a fern, and do live in a conservatory all winter, +as I can't go out a great deal. An idle thing, Becky!" and Emily sighed, +for she was born frail, and even her tenderly guarded life could not +give her the vigor of other girls. But the sigh changed to a smile as +she added,-- + +"If I am like the fern, you are like your own laurel,--strong, rosy, and +able to grow anywhere. I want to carry a few roots home, and see if they +won't grow in my garden. Then you will have me, and I you. I only hope +_your_ plant will do as well as mine does here." + +"It won't! ever so many folks have taken roots away, but they never +thrive in gardens as they do on the hills where they belong. So I tell +'em to leave the dear bushes alone, and come up here and enjoy 'em in +their own place. You might keep a plant of it in your hot-house, and it +would blow I dare say; but it would never be half so lovely as my acres +of them, and I guess it would only make you sad, seeing it so far from +home, and pale and pining," answered Becky, with her eyes on the green +slopes where the mountain-laurel braved the wintry snow, and came out +fresh and early in the spring. + +"Then I'll let it alone till I come next summer. But don't you take any +of the fern into the house in the cold weather? I should think it would +grow in your sunny windows," said Emily, pleased by the fancy that it +resembled herself. + +"I tried it, but it needs a damp place, and our cold nights kill it. No, +it won't grow in our old house; but I cover it with leaves, and the +little green sprouts come up as hearty as can be out here. The shade, +the spring, the shelter of the rock, keep it alive, you see, so it's no +use trying to move it." + +Both sat silent for a few minutes, as their hands moved briskly and they +thought of their different lots. An inquisitive ray of sunshine peeped +in at them, touching Becky's hair till it shone like red gold. The same +ray dazzled Emily's eyes; she put up her hand to pull her hat-brim +lower, and touched the little curls on her forehead. This recalled her +pet grievance, and made her say impatiently, as she pushed the thick +short locks under her net,-- + +"My hair is _such_ a plague! I don't know what I am to do when I go into +society by-and-by. This crop is so unbecoming, and I can't match my hair +anywhere, it is such a peculiar shade of golden-auburn." + +"It's a pretty color, and I think the curls much nicer than a boughten +switch," said Becky, quite unconscious that her own luxuriant locks were +of the true Titian red, and would be much admired by artistic eyes. + +"I don't! I shall send to Paris to match it, and then wear a braid round +my head as you do sometimes. I suppose it will cost a fortune, but I +_won't_ have a strong-minded crop. A friend of mine got a lovely golden +switch for fifty dollars." + +"My patience! do folks pay like that for false hair?" asked Becky, +amazed. + +"Yes, indeed. White hair costs a hundred, I believe, if it is long. Why, +you could get ever so much for yours if you ever wanted to sell it. I'll +take part of it, for in a little while mine will be as dark, and I'd +like to wear your hair, Becky." + +"Don't believe Mother would let me. She is very proud of our red heads. +If I ever do cut it, you shall have some. I may be hard up and glad to +sell it perhaps. My sakes! I smell the cake burning!" and off flew Becky +to forget the chat in her work. + +Emily did not forget it, and hoped Becky would be tempted, for she +really coveted one of the fine braids, but felt shy about asking the +poor girl for even a part of her one beauty. + +So July and August passed pleasantly and profitably to both girls, and +in September they were to part. No more was said about poetry; and Emily +soon became so interested in the busy, practical life about her that her +own high-flown dreams were quite forgotten, and she learned to enjoy the +sweet prose of daily labor. + +One breezy afternoon as she and her mother sat resting from a stroll on +the way-side bank among the golden-rod and asters, they saw Becky coming +up the long hill with a basket on her arm. She walked slowly, as if lost +in thought, yet never missed pushing aside with a decided gesture of her +foot every stone that lay in her way. There were many in that rocky +path, but Becky left it smoother as she climbed, and paused now and then +to send some especially sharp or large one spinning into the grassy +ditch beside the road. + +"Isn't she a curious girl, Mamma? so tired after her long walk to town, +yet so anxious not to leave a stone in the way," said Emily, as they +watched her slow approach. + +"A very interesting one to me, dear, because under that humble exterior +lies a fine, strong character. It is like Becky to clear her way, even +up a dusty hill where the first rain will wash out many more stones. Let +us ask her why she does it. I've observed the habit before, and always +meant to ask," replied Mrs. Spenser. + +"Here we are! Come and rest a minute, Becky, and tell us if you mend +roads as well as ever so many other things," called Emily, beckoning +with a smile, as the girl looked up and saw them. + +"Oh, it's a trick of mine; I caught it of Father when I was a little +thing, and do it without knowing it half the time," said Becky, sinking +down upon a mossy rock, as if rest were welcome. + +"Why did he do it?" asked Emily, who knew that her friend loved to talk +of her father. + +"Well, it's a family failing I guess, for his father did the same, only +_he_ began with his farm and let the roads alone. The land used to be +pretty much all rocks up here, you know, and farmers had to clear the +ground if they wanted crops. It was a hard fight, and took a sight of +time and patience to grub out roots and blast rocks and pick up stones +that seemed to grow faster than anything else. But they kept on, and now +see!" + +As she spoke, Becky pointed proudly to the wide, smooth fields lying +before them, newly shorn of grass or grain, waving with corn, or rich in +garden crops ripening for winter stores. Here and there were rocky +strips unreclaimed, as if to show what had been done; and massive stone +walls surrounded pasture, field, and garden. + +"A good lesson in patience and perseverance, my dear, and does great +honor to the men who made the wilderness blossom like the rose," said +Mrs. Spenser. + +"Then you can't wonder that they loved it and we want to keep it. I +guess it would break Mother's heart to sell this place, and we are all +working as hard as ever we can to pay off the mortgage. Then we'll be +just the happiest family in New Hampshire," said Becky, fondly surveying +the old farm-house, the rocky hill, and the precious fields won from the +forest. + +"You never need fear to lose it; we will see to that if you will let +us," began Mrs. Spenser, who was both a rich and a generous woman. + +"Oh, thank you! but we won't need help I guess; and if we should, Mrs. +Taylor made us promise to come to her," cried Becky. "She found us just +in our hardest time, and wanted to fix things then; but we are proud in +our way, and Mother said she'd rather work it off if she could. Then +what did that dear lady do but talk to the folks round here, and show +'em how a branch railroad down to Peeksville would increase the value of +the land, and how good this valley would be for strawberries and +asparagus and garden truck if we could only get it to market. Some of +the rich men took up the plan, and we hope it will be done this fall. It +will be the making of us, for our land is first-rate for small crops, +and the children can help at that, and with a _deepot_ close by it would +be such easy work. That's what I call helping folks to help themselves. +Won't it be grand?" + +Becky looked so enthusiastic that Emily could not remain uninterested, +though market-gardening did not sound very romantic. + +"I hope it will come, and next year we shall see you all hard at it. +What a good woman Mrs. Taylor is!" + +"Ain't she? and the sad part of it is, she can't do and enjoy all she +wants to, because her health is so poor. She was a country girl, you +know, and went to work in the city as waiter in a boarding-house. A rich +man fell in love with her and married her, and she took care of him for +years, and he left her all his money. She was quite broken down, but she +wanted to make his name loved and honored after his death, as he hadn't +done any good while he lived; so she gives away heaps, and is never +tired of helping poor folks and doing all sorts of grand things to make +the world better. I call that splendid!" + +"So do I, yet it is only what you are doing in a small way, Becky," said +Mrs. Spenser, as the girl paused out of breath. "Mrs. Taylor clears the +stones out of people's paths, making their road easier to climb than +hers has been, and leaving behind her fruitful fields for others to +reap. This is a better work than making verses, for it is the real +poetry of life, and brings to those who give themselves to it, no matter +in what humble ways, something sweeter than fame and more enduring than +fortune." + +"So it does! I see that now, and know why we love Father as we do, and +want to keep what he worked so hard to give us. He used to say every +stone cleared away was just so much help to the boys; and he used to +tell me his plans as I trotted after him round the farm, helping all I +could, being the oldest, and like him, he said." + +Becky paused with full eyes, for not even to these good friends could +she ever tell the shifts and struggles in which she had bravely borne +her part during the long hard years that had wrested the little +homestead from the stony-hearted hills. + +The musical chime of a distant clock reminded her that supper time was +near, and she sprang up as if much refreshed by this pleasant rest by +the way-side. As she pulled out her handkerchief, a little roll of pale +blue ribbon fell from her pocket, and Emily caught it up, exclaiming +mischievously, "Are you going to make yourself fine next Sunday, when +Moses Pennel calls, Becky?" + +[Illustration: "Just as they were parting for bed, in rushed one of the +boys with the exciting news."--PAGE 45.] + +The girl laughed and blushed as she said, carefully folding up the +ribbon,-- + +"I'm going to do something with it that I like a sight better than that. +Poor Moses won't come any more, I guess. I'm not going to leave Mother +till the girls can take my place, and only then to teach, if I can get a +good school somewhere near." + +"We shall see!" and Emily nodded wisely. + +"We shall!" and Becky nodded decidedly, as she trudged on up the steep +hill beside Mrs. Spenser, while Emily walked slowly behind, poking +every stone she saw into the grass, unmindful of the detriment to her +delicate shoes, being absorbed in a new and charming idea of trying to +follow Mrs. Taylor's example in a small way. + +A week later the last night came, and just as they were parting for bed, +in rushed one of the boys with the exciting news that the railroad +surveyors were in town, the folks talking about the grand enterprise, +and the fortune of the place made forever. + +Great was the rejoicing in the old farm-house; the boys cheered, +the little girls danced, the two mothers dropped a happy tear as +they shook each other's hands, and Emily embraced Becky, tenderly +exclaiming,--"There, you dear thing, is a great stone shoved out of +_your_ way, and a clear road to fortune at last; for I shall tell all my +friends to buy your butter and eggs, and fruit and pigs, and everything +you send to market on that blessed railroad." + +"A keg of our best winter butter is going by stage express to-morrow +anyway; and when our apples come, we shan't need a railroad to get 'em +to you, my darling dear," answered Becky, holding the delicate girl in +her arms with a look and gesture half sisterly, half motherly, wholly +fond and grateful. + +When Emily got to her room, she found that butter and apples were not +all the humble souvenirs offered in return for many comfortable gifts to +the whole family. + +On the table, in a pretty birch-bark cover, lay several of Becky's best +poems neatly copied, as Emily had expressed a wish to keep them; and +round the rustic volume, like a ring of red gold, lay a great braid of +Becky's hair, tied with the pale blue ribbon she had walked four miles +to buy, that her present might look its best. + +Of course there were more embraces and kisses, and thanks and loving +words, before Emily at last lulled herself to sleep planning a Christmas +box, which should supply every wish and want of the entire family if she +could find them out. + +Next morning they parted; but these were not mere summer friends, and +they did not lose sight of one another, though their ways lay far apart. +Emily had found a new luxury to bring more pleasure into life, a new +medicine to strengthen soul and body; and in helping others, she helped +herself wonderfully. + +Becky went steadily on her dutiful way, till the homestead was free, the +lads able to work the farm alone, the girls old enough to fill her +place, and the good mother willing to rest at last among her children. +Then Becky gave herself to teaching,--a noble task, for which she was +well fitted, and in which she found both profit and pleasure, as she led +her flock along the paths from which she removed the stumbling-blocks +for their feet, as well as for her own. She put her poetry into her +life, and made of it "a grand sweet song" in which beauty and duty +rhymed so well that the country girl became a more useful, beloved, and +honored woman than if she had tried to sing for fame which never +satisfies. + +So each symbolical plant stood in its own place, and lived its appointed +life. The delicate fern grew in the conservatory among tea-roses and +camellias, adding grace to every bouquet of which it formed a part, +whether it faded in a ball-room, or was carefully cherished by some poor +invalid's bed-side,--a frail thing, yet with tenacious roots and strong +stem, nourished by memories of the rocky nook where it had learned its +lesson so well. The mountain-laurel clung to the bleak hillside, +careless of wintry wind and snow, as its sturdy branches spread year by +year, with its evergreen leaves for Christmas cheer, its rosy flowers +for spring-time, its fresh beauty free to all as it clothed the wild +valley with a charm that made a little poem of the lovely spot where the +pines whispered, woodbirds sang, and the hidden brook told the sweet +message it brought from the mountain-top where it was born. + +[Illustration: Logo] + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Mountain-Laurel and Maidenhair, by +Louisa May Alcott + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MOUNTAIN-LAUREL AND MAIDENHAIR *** + +***** This file should be named 37807.txt or 37807.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/7/8/0/37807/ + +Produced by Rory OConor, Suzanne Shell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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