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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Marjorie's Three Gifts, 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: Marjorie's Three Gifts
+
+Author: Louisa May Alcott
+
+Release Date: March, 2004 [EBook #5352]
+Posting Date: April 19, 2009
+Last Updated: March 10, 2018
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MARJORIE'S THREE GIFTS ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Brandon Ryan
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+MARJORIE'S THREE GIFTS
+
+
+By Louisa M. Alcott
+
+
+Author of “Little Women,” “Little Men,” “An Old-Fashioned Girl,” Etc.
+
+BOSTON
+
+1899
+
+
+
+
+
+MARJORIE'S THREE GIFTS
+
+
+Marjorie sat on the door-step, shelling peas, quite unconscious what
+a pretty picture she made, with the roses peeping at her through the
+lattice work of the porch, the wind playing hide-and-seek in her curly
+hair, while the sunshine with its silent magic changed her faded gingham
+to a golden gown, and shimmered on the bright tin pan as if it were a
+silver shield. Old Rover lay at her feet, the white kitten purred on her
+shoulder, and friendly robins hopped about her in the grass, chirping “A
+happy birthday, Marjorie!”
+
+But the little maid neither saw nor heard, for her eyes were fixed on
+the green pods, and her thoughts were far away. She was recalling the
+fairy-tale granny told her last night, and wishing with all her heart
+that such things happened nowadays. For in this story, as a poor girl
+like herself sat spinning before the door, a Brownie came by, and gave
+the child a good-luck penny; then a fairy passed, and left a talisman
+which would keep her always happy; and last of all, the prince rolled
+up in his chariot, and took her away to reign with him over a lovely
+kingdom, as a reward for her many kindnesses to others.
+
+When Marjorie imagined this part of the story, it was impossible to help
+giving one little sigh, and for a minute she forgot her work, so busy
+was she thinking what beautiful presents she would give to all the poor
+children in her realm when THEY had birthdays. Five impatient young peas
+took this opportunity to escape from the half-open pod in her hand and
+skip down the steps, to be immediately gobbled up by an audacious robin,
+who gave thanks in such a shrill chirp that Marjorie woke up, laughed,
+and fell to work again. She was just finishing, when a voice called out
+from the lane,--
+
+“Hi, there! come here a minute, child!” and looking up, she saw a little
+old man in a queer little carriage drawn by a fat little pony.
+
+Running down to the gate, Marjorie dropped a curtsy, saying
+pleasantly,--
+
+“What did you wish, sir?”
+
+“Just undo that check-rein for me. I am lame, and Jack wants to drink
+at your brook,” answered the old man, nodding at her till his spectacles
+danced on his nose.
+
+Marjorie was rather afraid of the fat pony, who tossed his head, whisked
+his tail, and stamped his feet as if he was of a peppery temper. But she
+liked to be useful, and just then felt as if there were few things she
+could NOT do if she tried, because it was her birthday. So she proudly
+let down the rein, and when Jack went splashing into the brook, she
+stood on the bridge, waiting to check him up again after he had drunk
+his fill of the clear, cool water.
+
+The old gentleman sat in his place, looking up at the little girl, who
+was smiling to herself as she watched the blue dragon-flies dance among
+the ferns, a blackbird tilt on the alderboughs, and listened to the
+babble of the brook.
+
+“How old are you, child?” asked the old man, as if he rather envied this
+rosy creature her youth and health.
+
+“Twelve to-day, sir;” and Marjorie stood up straight and tall, as if
+mindful of her years.
+
+“Had any presents?” asked the old man, peering up with an odd smile.
+
+“One, sir,--here it is;” and she pulled out of her pocket a tin
+savings-bank in the shape of a desirable family mansion, painted red,
+with a green door and black chimney. Proudly displaying it on the rude
+railing of the bridge, she added, with a happy face,--
+
+“Granny gave it to me, and all the money in it is going to be mine.”
+
+“How much have you got?” asked the old gentleman, who appeared to like
+to sit there in the middle of the brook, while Jack bathed his feet and
+leisurely gurgled and sneezed.
+
+“Not a penny yet, but I'm going to earn some,” answered Marjorie,
+patting the little bank with an air of resolution pretty to see.
+
+“How will you do it?” continued the inquisitive old man.
+
+“Oh, I'm going to pick berries and dig dandelions, and weed, and drive
+cows, and do chores. It is vacation, and I can work all the time, and
+earn ever so much.”
+
+“But vacation is play-time,--how about that?”
+
+“Why, that sort of work IS play, and I get bits of fun all along. I
+always have a good swing when I go for the cows, and pick flowers with
+the dandelions. Weeding isn't so nice, but berrying is very pleasant,
+and we have good times all together.”
+
+“What shall you do with your money when you get it?”
+
+“Oh, lots of things! Buy books and clothes for school, and, if I get a
+great deal, give some to granny. I'd love to do that, for she takes care
+of me, and I'd be so proud to help her!”
+
+“Good little lass!” said the old gentleman, as he put his hand in his
+pocket. “Would you now?” he added, apparently addressing himself to a
+large frog who sat upon a stone, looking so wise and grandfatherly that
+it really did seem quite proper to consult him. At all events, he gave
+his opinion in the most decided manner, for, with a loud croak, he
+turned an undignified somersault into the brook, splashing up the
+water at a great rate. “Well, perhaps it wouldn't be best on the whole.
+Industry is a good teacher, and money cannot buy happiness, as I know to
+my sorrow.”
+
+The old gentleman still seemed to be talking to the frog, and as he
+spoke he took his hand out of his pocket with less in it than he had at
+first intended.
+
+“What a very queer person!” thought Marjorie, for she had not heard a
+word, and wondered what he was thinking about down there.
+
+Jack walked out of the brook just then, and she ran to check him up; not
+an easy task for little hands, as he preferred to nibble the grass
+on the bank. But she did it cleverly, smoothed the ruffled mane, and,
+dropping another curtsy, stood aside to let the little carriage pass.
+
+“Thank you, child--thank you. Here is something for your bank, and good
+luck to it.”
+
+As he spoke, the old man laid a bright gold dollar in her hand, patted
+the rosy cheek, and vanished in a cloud of dust, leaving Marjorie so
+astonished at the grandeur of the gift, that she stood looking at it
+as if it had been a fortune. It was to her; and visions of pink calico
+gowns, new grammars, and fresh hat-ribbons danced through her head in
+delightful confusion, as her eyes rested on the shining coin in her
+palm.
+
+Then, with a solemn air, she invested her first money by popping it down
+the chimney of the scarlet mansion, and peeping in with one eye to see
+if it landed safely on the ground-floor. This done, she took a long
+breath, and looked over the railing, to be sure it was not all a dream.
+No; the wheel marks were still there, the brown water was not yet clear,
+and, if a witness was needed, there sat the big frog again, looking so
+like the old gentleman, with his bottle-green coat, speckled trousers,
+and twinkling eyes, that Marjorie burst out laughing, and clapped her
+hands, saying aloud,--
+
+“I'll play he was the Brownie, and this is the good-luck penny he gave
+me. Oh, what fun!” and away she skipped, rattling the dear new bank like
+a castanet.
+
+When she had told granny all about it, she got knife and basket, and
+went out to dig dandelions; for the desire to increase her fortune was
+so strong, she could not rest a minute. Up and down she went, so busily
+peering and digging, that she never lifted up her eyes till something
+like a great white bird skimmed by so low she could not help seeing
+it. A pleasant laugh sounded behind her as she started up, and, looking
+round, she nearly sat down again in sheer surprise, for there close by
+was a slender little lady, comfortably established under a big umbrella.
+
+“If there WERE any fairies, I'd be sure that was one,” thought Marjorie,
+staring with all her might, for her mind was still full of the old
+story; and curious things do happen on birthdays, as every one knows.
+
+It really did seem rather elfish to look up suddenly and see a lovely
+lady all in white, with shining hair and a wand in her hand, sitting
+under what looked very like a large yellow mushroom in the middle of
+a meadow, where, till now, nothing but cows and grasshoppers had been
+seen. Before Marjorie could decide the question, the pleasant laugh came
+again, and the stranger said, pointing to the white thing that was still
+fluttering over the grass like a little cloud,--
+
+“Would you kindly catch my hat for me, before it blows quite away?”
+
+Down went basket and knife, and away ran Marjorie, entirely satisfied
+now that there was no magic about the new-comer; for if she had been an
+elf, couldn't she have got her hat without any help from a mortal child?
+Presently, however, it did begin to seem as if that hat was bewitched,
+for it led the nimble-footed Marjorie such a chase that the cows stopped
+feeding to look on in placid wonder; the grasshoppers vainly tried to
+keep up, and every ox-eye daisy did its best to catch the runaway, but
+failed entirely, for the wind liked a game of romps, and had it that
+day. As she ran, Marjorie heard the lady singing, like the princess in
+the story of the Goose-Girl,--
+
+    “Blow, breezes, blow!
+     Let Curdkin's hat go!
+     Blow, breezes, blow!
+     Let him after it go!
+     O'er hills, dales and rocks,
+          Away be it whirled,
+     Till the silvery locks
+          Are all combed and curled.”
+
+This made her laugh so that she tumbled into a clover-bed, and lay there
+a minute to get her breath. Just then, as if the playful wind
+repented of its frolic, the long veil fastened to the hat caught in a
+blackberry-vine near by, and held the truant fast till Marjorie secured
+it.
+
+“Now come and see what I am doing,” said the lady, when she had thanked
+the child.
+
+Marjorie drew near confidingly, and looked down at the wide-spread book
+before her. She gave a start, and laughed out with surprise and delight;
+for there was a lovely picture of her own little home, and her own
+little self on the door-step, all so delicate, and beautiful, and true,
+it seemed as if done by magic.
+
+“Oh, how pretty! There is Rover, and Kitty and the robins, and me! How
+could you ever do it, ma'am?” said Marjorie, with a wondering glance
+at the long paint-brush, which had wrought what seemed a miracle to her
+childish eyes.
+
+“I'll show you presently; but tell me, first, if it looks quite right
+and natural to you. Children sometimes spy out faults that no one else
+can see,” answered the lady, evidently pleased with the artless praise
+her work received.
+
+“It looks just like our house, only more beautiful. Perhaps that is
+because I know how shabby it really is. That moss looks lovely on the
+shingles, but the roof leaks. The porch is broken, only the roses hide
+the place; and my gown is all faded, though it once was as bright as you
+have made it. I wish the house and everything would stay pretty forever,
+as they will in the picture.”
+
+While Marjorie spoke, the lady had been adding more color to the sketch,
+and when she looked up, something warmer and brighter than sunshine
+shone in her face, as she said, so cheerily, it was like a bird's song
+to hear her,--
+
+“It can't be summer always, dear, but we can make fair weather for
+ourselves if we try. The moss, the roses, and soft shadows show the
+little house and the little girl at their best, and that is what we all
+should do; for it is amazing how lovely common things become, if one
+only knows how to look at them.”
+
+“I wish _I_ did,” said Marjorie, half to herself, remembering how often
+she was discontented, and how hard it was to get on, sometimes.
+
+“So do I,” said the lady, in her happy voice. “Just believe that there
+is a sunny side to everything, and try to find it, and you will be
+surprised to see how bright the world will seem, and how cheerful you
+will be able to keep your little self.”
+
+“I guess granny has found that out, for she never frets. I do, but I'm
+going to stop it, because I'm twelve to-day, and that is too old for
+such things,” said Marjorie, recollecting the good resolutions she had
+made that morning when she woke.
+
+“I am twice twelve, and not entirely cured yet; but I try, and don't
+mean to wear blue spectacles if I can help it,” answered the lady,
+laughing so blithely that Marjorie was sure she would not have to try
+much longer. “Birthdays were made for presents, and I should like to
+give you one. Would it please you to have this little picture?” she
+added, lifting it out of the book.
+
+“Truly my own? Oh, yes, indeed!” cried Marjorie, coloring with pleasure,
+for she had never owned so beautiful a thing before.
+
+“Then you shall have it, dear. Hang it where you can see it often, and
+when you look, remember that it is the sunny side of home, and help to
+keep it so.”
+
+Marjorie had nothing but a kiss to offer by way of thanks, as the lovely
+sketch was put into her hand; but the giver seemed quite satisfied, for
+it was a very grateful little kiss. Then the child took up her basket
+and went away, not dancing and singing now, but slowly and silently; for
+this gift made her thoughtful as well as glad. As she climbed the wall,
+she looked back to nod good-by to the pretty lady; but the meadow was
+empty, and all she saw was the grass blowing in the wind.
+
+“Now, deary, run out and play, for birthdays come but once a year,
+and we must make them as merry as we can,” said granny, as she settled
+herself for her afternoon nap, when the Saturday cleaning was all done,
+and the little house as neat as wax.
+
+So Marjorie put on a white apron in honor of the occasion, and, taking
+Kitty in her arms, went out to enjoy herself. Three swings on the gate
+seemed to be a good way of beginning the festivities; but she only got
+two, for when the gate creaked back the second time, it stayed shut, and
+Marjorie hung over the pickets, arrested by the sound of music.
+
+“It's soldiers,” she said, as the fife and drum drew nearer, and flags
+were seen waving over the barberry-bushes at the corner.
+
+“No; it's a picnic,” she added in a moment; for she saw hats with
+wreaths about them bobbing up and down, as a gayly-trimmed hay-cart full
+of children came rumbling down the lane.
+
+“What a nice time they are going to have!” thought Marjorie, sadly
+contrasting that merry-making with the quiet party she was having all by
+herself.
+
+Suddenly her face shone, and Kitty was waved over her head like a
+banner, as she flew out of the gate, crying, rapturously,--
+
+“It's Billy! and I know he's come for me!”
+
+It certainly WAS Billy, proudly driving the old horse, and beaming at
+his little friend from the bower of flags and chestnut-boughs, where he
+sat in state, with a crown of daisies on his sailor-hat and a spray of
+blooming sweetbrier in his hand. Waving his rustic sceptre, he led off
+the shout of “Happy birthday, Marjorie!” which was set up as the wagon
+stopped at the gate, and the green boughs suddenly blossomed with
+familiar faces, all smiling on the little damsel, who stood in the lane
+quite overpowered with delight.
+
+“It's a s'prise party!” cried one small lad, tumbling out behind.
+
+“We are going up the mountain to have fun!” added a chorus of voices, as
+a dozen hands beckoned wildly.
+
+“We got it up on purpose for you, so tie your hat and come away,” said
+a pretty girl, leaning down to kiss Marjorie, who had dropped Kitty, and
+stood ready for any splendid enterprise.
+
+A word to granny, and away went the happy child, sitting up beside
+Billy, under the flags that waved over a happier load than any royal
+chariot ever bore.
+
+It would be vain to try and tell all the plays and pleasures of happy
+children on a Saturday afternoon, but we may briefly say that Marjorie
+found a mossy stone all ready for her throne, and Billy crowned her with
+a garland like his own. That a fine banquet was spread, and eaten with
+a relish many a Lord Mayor's feast has lacked. Then how the whole court
+danced and played together afterward! The lords climbed trees and turned
+somersaults, the ladies gathered flowers and told secrets under the
+sweetfern-bushes, the queen lost her shoe jumping over the waterfall,
+and the king paddled into the pool below and rescued it. A happy little
+kingdom, full of summer sunshine, innocent delights, and loyal hearts;
+for love ruled, and the only war that disturbed the peaceful land was
+waged by the mosquitoes as night came on.
+
+Marjorie stood on her throne watching the sunset while her maids of
+honor packed up the remains of the banquet, and her knights prepared
+the chariot. All the sky was gold and purple, all the world bathed in a
+soft, red light, and the little girl was very happy as she looked down
+at the subjects who had served her so faithfully that day.
+
+“Have you had a good time, Marjy?” asked King William; who stood below,
+with his royal nose on a level with her majesty's two dusty little
+shoes.
+
+“Oh, Billy, it has been just splendid! But I don't see why you should
+all be so kind to me,” answered Marjorie, with such a look of innocent
+wonder, that Billy laughed to see it.
+
+“Because you are so sweet and good, we can't help loving you,--that's
+why,” he said, as if this simple fact was reason enough.
+
+“I'm going to be the best girl that ever was, and love everybody in the
+world,” cried the child, stretching out her arms as if ready, in the
+fulness of her happy heart, to embrace all creation.
+
+“Don't turn into an angel and fly away just yet, but come home, or
+granny will never lend you to us any more.”
+
+With that, Billy jumped her down, and away they ran, to ride gayly back
+through the twilight, singing like a flock of nightingales.
+
+As she went to bed that night, Marjorie looked at the red bank, the
+pretty picture, and the daisy crown, saying to herself,--
+
+“It has been a VERY nice birthday, and I am something like the girl in
+the story, after all, for the old man gave me a good-luck penny, the
+kind lady told me how to keep happy, and Billy came for me like the
+prince. The girl didn't go back to the poor house again, but I'm glad
+_I_ did, for MY granny isn't a cross one, and my little home is the
+dearest in the world.”
+
+Then she tied her night-cap, said her prayers, and fell asleep; but the
+moon, looking in to kiss the blooming face upon the pillow, knew that
+three good spirits had come to help little Marjorie from that day forth,
+and their names were Industry, Cheerfulness, and Love.
+
+
+
+
+
+ROSES AND FORGET-ME-NOTS
+
+
+
+
+I. ROSES
+
+
+It was a cold November storm, and everything looked forlorn. Even the
+pert sparrows were draggle-tailed and too much out of spirits to fight
+for crumbs with the fat pigeons who tripped through the mud with their
+little red boots as if in haste to get back to their cosy home in the
+dove-cot.
+
+But the most forlorn creature out that day was a small errand girl, with
+a bonnet-box on each arm, and both hands struggling to hold a big broken
+umbrella. A pair of worn-out boots let in the wet upon her tired feet; a
+thin cotton dress and an old shawl poorly protected her from the storm;
+and a faded hood covered her head.
+
+The face that looked out from this hood was too pale and anxious for one
+so young; and when a sudden gust turned the old umbrella inside out with
+a crash, despair fell upon poor Lizzie, and she was so miserable she
+could have sat down in the rain and cried.
+
+But there was no time for tears; so, dragging the dilapidated umbrella
+along, she spread her shawl over the bonnet-boxes and hurried down the
+broad street, eager to hide her misfortunes from a pretty young girl who
+stood at a window laughing at her.
+
+She could not find the number of the house where one of the fine hats
+was to be left; and after hunting all down one side of the street, she
+crossed over, and came at last to the very house where the pretty girl
+lived. She was no longer to be seen; and, with a sigh of relief, Lizzie
+rang the bell, and was told to wait in the hall while Miss Belle tried
+the hat on.
+
+Glad to rest, she warmed her feet, righted her umbrella, and then sat
+looking about her with eyes quick to see the beauty and the comfort that
+made the place so homelike and delightful. A small waiting-room opened
+from the hall, and in it stood many blooming plants, whose fragrance
+attracted Lizzie as irresistibly as if she had been a butterfly or bee.
+
+Slipping in, she stood enjoying the lovely colors, sweet odors, and
+delicate shapes of these household spirits; for Lizzie loved flowers
+passionately; and just then they possessed a peculiar charm for her.
+
+One particularly captivating little rose won her heart, and made her
+long for it with a longing that became a temptation too strong to
+resist. It was so perfect; so like a rosy face smiling out from the
+green leaves, that Lizzie could NOT keep her hands off it, and having
+smelt, touched, and kissed it, she suddenly broke the stem and hid it in
+her pocket. Then, frightened at what she had done, she crept back to her
+place in the hall, and sat there, burdened with remorse.
+
+A servant came just then to lead her upstairs; for Miss Belle wished the
+hat altered, and must give directions. With her heart in a flutter, and
+pinker roses in her cheeks than the one in her pocket, Lizzie followed
+to a handsome room, where a pretty girl stood before a long mirror with
+the hat in her hand.
+
+“Tell Madame Tifany that I don't like it at all, for she hasn't put in
+the blue plume mamma ordered; and I won't have rose-buds, they are so
+common,” said the young lady, in a dissatisfied tone, as she twirled the
+hat about.
+
+“Yes, miss,” was all Lizzie could say; for SHE considered that hat the
+loveliest thing a girl could possibly own.
+
+“You had better ask your mamma about it, Miss Belle, before you give any
+orders. She will be up in a few moments, and the girl can wait,” put in
+a maid, who was sewing in the ante-room.
+
+“I suppose I must; but I WON'T have roses,” answered Belle, crossly.
+Then she glanced at Lizzie, and said more gently, “You look very cold;
+come and sit by the fire while you wait.”
+
+“I'm afraid I'll wet the pretty rug, miss; my feet are sopping,” said
+Lizzie, gratefully, but timidly.
+
+“So they are! Why didn't you wear rubber boots?”
+
+“I haven't got any.”
+
+“I'll give you mine, then, for I hate them; and as I never go out in
+wet weather, they are of no earthly use to me. Marie, bring them here;
+I shall be glad to get rid of them, and I'm sure they'll be useful to
+you.”
+
+“Oh, thank you, miss! I'd like 'em ever so much, for I'm out in the rain
+half the time, and get bad colds because my boots are old,” said Lizzie,
+smiling brightly at the thought of the welcome gift.
+
+“I should think your mother would get you warmer things,” began Belle,
+who found something rather interesting in the shabby girl, with shy
+bright eyes, and curly hair bursting out of the old hood.
+
+“I haven't got any mother,” said Lizzie, with a pathetic glance at her
+poor clothes.
+
+“I'm so sorry! Have you brothers and sisters?” asked Belle, hoping to
+find something pleasant to talk about; for she was a kind little soul.
+
+“No, miss; I've got no folks at all.”
+
+“Oh, dear; how sad! Why, who takes care of you?” cried Belle, looking
+quite distressed.
+
+“No one; I take care of myself. I work for Madame, and she pays me a
+dollar a week. I stay with Mrs. Brown, and chore round to pay for my
+keep. My dollar don't get many clothes, so I can't be as neat as I'd
+like.” And the forlorn look came back to poor Lizzie's face.
+
+Belle said nothing, but sat among the sofa cushions, where she had
+thrown herself, looking soberly at this other girl, no older than she
+was, who took care of herself and was all alone in the world. It was a
+new idea to Belle, who was loved and petted as an only child is apt to
+be. She often saw beggars and pitied them, but knew very little about
+their wants and lives; so it was like turning a new page in her happy
+life to be brought so near to poverty as this chance meeting with the
+milliner's girl.
+
+“Aren't you afraid and lonely and unhappy?” she said, slowly, trying to
+understand and put herself in Lizzie's place.
+
+“Yes; but it's no use. I can't help it, and may be things will get
+better by and by, and I'll have my wish,” answered Lizzie, more
+hopefully, because Belle's pity warmed her heart and made her troubles
+seem lighter.
+
+“What is your wish?” asked Belle, hoping mamma wouldn't come just yet,
+for she was getting interested in the stranger.
+
+“To have a nice little room, and make flowers, like a French girl I
+know. It's such pretty work, and she gets lots of money, for every one
+likes her flowers. She shows me how, sometimes, and I can do leaves
+first-rate; but--”
+
+There Lizzie stopped suddenly, and the color rushed up to her forehead;
+for she remembered the little rose in her pocket and it weighed upon her
+conscience like a stone.
+
+Before Belle could ask what was the matter, Marie came in with a tray of
+cake and fruit, saying:
+
+“Here's your lunch, Miss Belle.”
+
+“Put it down, please; I'm not ready for it yet.”
+
+And Belle shook her head as she glanced at Lizzie, who was staring hard
+at the fire with such a troubled face that Belle could not bear to see
+it.
+
+Jumping out of her nest of cushions, she heaped a plate with good
+things, and going to Lizzie, offered it, saying, with a gentle courtesy
+that made the act doubly sweet:
+
+“Please have some; you must be tired of waiting.”
+
+But Lizzie could not take it; she could only cover her face and cry;
+for this kindness rent her heart and made the stolen flower a burden too
+heavy to be borne.
+
+“Oh, don't cry so! Are you sick? Have I been rude? Tell me all about
+it; and if I can't do anything, mamma can,” said Belle, surprised and
+troubled.
+
+“No; I'm not sick; I'm bad, and I can't bear it when you are so good to
+me,” sobbed Lizzie, quite overcome with penitence; and taking out the
+crumpled rose, she confessed her fault with many tears.
+
+“Don't feel so much about such a little thing as that,” began Belle,
+warmly; then checked herself, and added, more soberly, “It WAS wrong to
+take it without leave; but it's all right now, and I'll give you as many
+roses as you want, for I know you are a good girl.”
+
+“Thank you. I didn't want it only because it was pretty, but I wanted to
+copy it. I can't get any for myself, and so I can't do my make-believe
+ones well. Madame won't even lend me the old ones in the store, and
+Estelle has none to spare for me, because I can't pay her for teaching
+me. She gives me bits of muslin and wire and things, and shows me now
+and then. But I know if I had a real flower I could copy it; so she'd
+see I did know something, for I try real hard. I'm SO tired of slopping
+round the streets, I'd do anything to earn my living some other way.”
+
+Lizzie had poured out her trouble rapidly; and the little story was
+quite affecting when one saw the tears on her cheeks, the poor clothes,
+and the thin hands that held the stolen rose. Belle was much touched,
+and, in her impetuous way, set about mending matters as fast as
+possible.
+
+“Put on those boots and that pair of dry stockings right away. Then tuck
+as much cake and fruit into your pocket as it will hold. I'm going to
+get you some flowers, and see if mamma is too busy to attend to me.”
+
+With a nod and a smile, Belle flew about the room a minute; then
+vanished, leaving Lizzie to her comfortable task, feeling as if fairies
+still haunted the world as in the good old times.
+
+When Belle came back with a handful of roses, she found Lizzie absorbed
+in admiring contemplation of her new boots, as she ate sponge-cake in a
+blissful sort of waking-dream.
+
+“Mamma can't come; but I don't care about the hat. It will do very well,
+and isn't worth fussing about. There, will those be of any use to you?”
+ And she offered the nosegay with a much happier face than the one Lizzie
+first saw.
+
+“Oh, miss, they're just lovely! I'll copy that pink rose as soon as ever
+I can, and when I've learned how to do 'em tip-top, I'd like to bring
+you some, if you don't mind,” answered Lizzie, smiling all over her face
+as she buried her nose luxuriously in the fragrant mass.
+
+“I'd like it very much, for I should think you'd have to be very clever
+to make such pretty things. I really quite fancy those rosebuds in my
+hat, now I know that you're going to learn how to make them. Put an
+orange in your pocket, and the flowers in water as soon as you can, so
+they'll be fresh when you want them. Good-by. Bring home our hats every
+time and tell me how you get on.”
+
+With kind words like these, Belle dismissed Lizzie, who ran downstairs,
+feeling as rich as if she had found a fortune. Away to the next place
+she hurried, anxious to get her errands done and the precious posy
+safely into fresh water. But Mrs. Turretviile was not at home, and the
+bonnet could not be left till paid for. So Lizzie turned to go down the
+high steps, glad that she need not wait. She stopped one instant to take
+a delicious sniff at her flowers, and that was the last happy moment
+that poor Lizzie knew for many weary months.
+
+The new boots were large for her, the steps slippery with sleet, and
+down went the little errand girl, from top to bottom, till she landed in
+the gutter directly upon Mrs. Turretville's costly bonnet.
+
+“I've saved my posies, anyway,” sighed Lizzie, as she picked herself
+up, bruised, wet, and faint with pain; “but, oh, my heart! won't Madame
+scold when she sees that band-box smashed flat,” groaned the poor child,
+sitting on the curbstone to get her breath and view the disaster.
+
+The rain poured, the wind blew, the sparrows on the park railing chirped
+derisively, and no one came along to help Lizzie out of her troubles.
+Slowly she gathered up her burdens; painfully she limped away in the big
+boots; and the last the naughty sparrows saw of her was a shabby little
+figure going round the corner, with a pale, tearful face held lovingly
+over the bright bouquet that was her one treasure and her only comfort
+in the moment which brought to her the great misfortune of her life.
+
+
+
+
+II. FORGET-ME-NOTS
+
+
+“Oh, mamma, I am so relieved that the box has come at last! If it had
+not, I do believe I should have died of disappointment,” cried pretty
+Belle, five years later, on the morning before her eighteenth birthday.
+
+“It would have been a serious disappointment, darling; for I had sot
+my heart on your wearing my gift to-morrow night, and when the steamers
+kept coming in without my trunk from Paris, I was very anxious. I hope
+you will like it.”
+
+“Dear mamma, I know I shall like it; your taste is so good and you know
+what suits me so well. Make haste, Marie; I'm dying to see it,” said
+Belle, dancing about the great trunk, as the maid carefully unfolded
+tissue papers and muslin wrappers.
+
+A young girl's first ball-dress is a grand affair,--in her eyes, at
+least; and Belle soon stopped dancing, to stand with clasped hands,
+eager eyes and parted lips before the snowy pile of illusion that was
+at last daintily lifted out upon the bed. Then, as Marie displayed
+its loveliness, little cries of delight were heard, and when the whole
+delicate dress was arranged to the best effect she threw herself upon
+her mother's neck and actually cried with pleasure.
+
+“Mamma, it is too lovely I and you are very kind to do so much for me.
+How shall I ever thank you?”
+
+“By putting it right on to see if it fits; and when you wear it look
+your happiest, that I may be proud of my pretty daughter.”
+
+Mamma got no further, for Marie uttered a French shriek, wrung her
+hands, and then began to burrow wildly in the trunk and among the
+papers, crying distractedly:
+
+“Great Heavens, madame! the wreath has been forgotten! What an
+affliction! Mademoiselle's enchanting toilette is destroyed without the
+wreath, and nowhere do I find it.”
+
+In vain they searched; in vain Marie wailed and Belle declared it must
+be somewhere; no wreath appeared. It was duly set down in the bill, and
+a fine sum charged for a head-dress to match the dainty forget-me-nots
+that looped the fleecy skirts and ornamented the bosom of the dress. It
+had evidently been forgotten; and mamma despatched Marie at once to try
+and match the flowers, for Belle would not hear of any other decoration
+for her beautiful blonde hair.
+
+The dress fitted to a charm, and was pronounced by all beholders the
+loveliest thing ever seen. Nothing was wanted but the wreath to make
+it quite perfect, and when Marie returned, after a long search, with no
+forget-me-nots, Belle was in despair.
+
+“Wear natural ones,” suggested a sympathizing friend.
+
+But another hunt among greenhouses was as fruitless as that among the
+milliners' rooms. No forget-me-nots could be found, and Marie fell
+exhausted into a chair, desolated at what she felt to be an awful
+calamity.
+
+“Let me have the carriage, and I'll ransack the city till I find some,”
+ cried Belle, growing more resolute with each failure.
+
+Marnma was deep in preparations for the ball, and could not help her
+afflicted daughter, though she was much disappointed at the mishap. So
+Belle drove off, resolved to have her flowers whether there were any or
+not.
+
+Any one who has ever tried to match a ribbon, find a certain fabric, or
+get anything done in a hurry, knows what a wearisome task it
+sometimes is, and can imagine Belle's state of mind after repeated
+disappointments. She was about to give up in despair, when some one
+suggested that perhaps the Frenchwoman, Estelle Valnor, might make the
+desired wreath, if there was time.
+
+Away drove Belle, and, on entering the room, gave a sigh of
+satisfaction, for a whole boxful of the loveliest forget-me-nots stood
+upon the table. As fast as possible, she told her tale and demanded the
+flowers, no matter what the price might be. Imagine her feelings when
+the Frenchwoman, with a shrug, announced that it was impossible to give
+mademoiselle a single spray. All were engaged to trim a bridesmaid's
+dress, and must be sent away at once.
+
+It really was too bad! and Belle lost her temper entirely, for no
+persuasion or bribes would win a spray from Estelle. The provoking part
+of it was that the wedding would not come off for several days, and
+there was time enough to make more flowers for that dress, since Belle
+only wanted a few for her hair. Neither would Estelle make her any, as
+her hands were full, and so small an order was not worth deranging one's
+self for; but observing Belle's sorrowful face, she said, affably:
+
+“Mademoiselle may, perhaps, find the flowers she desires at Miss
+Berton's. She has been helping me with these garlands, and may have some
+left. Here is her address.”
+
+Belle took the card with thanks, and hurried away with a last hope
+faintly stirring in her girlish heart, for Belle had an unusually ardent
+wish to look her best at this party, since Somebody was to be there, and
+Somebody considered forget-me-nots the sweetest flowers in the world.
+Mamma knew this, and the kiss Belle gave her when the dress came had a
+more tender meaning than gratified vanity or daughterly love.
+
+Up many stairs she climbed, and came at last to a little room, very poor
+but very neat, where, at the one window, sat a young girl, with crutches
+by her side and her lap full of flower-leaves and petals. She rose
+slowly as Belle came in, and then stood looking at her, with such a
+wistful expression in her shy, bright eyes, that Belle's anxious face
+cleared involuntarily, and her voice lost its impatient tone.
+
+As she spoke, she glanced about the room, hoping to see some blue
+blossoms awaiting her. But none appeared; and she was about to despond
+again, when the girl said, gently:
+
+“I have none by me now, but I may be able to find you some.”
+
+“Thank you very much; but I have been everywhere in vain. Still, if
+you do get any, please send them to me as soon as possible. Here is my
+card.”
+
+Miss Berton glanced at it, then cast a quick look at the sweet, anxious
+face before her, and smiled so brightly that Belle smiled also, and
+asked, wonderingly:
+
+“What is it? What do you see?”
+
+“I see the dear young lady who was so kind to me long ago. You don't
+remember me, and never knew my name; but I never have forgotten you all
+these years. I always hoped I could do something to show how grateful
+I was, and now I can, for you shall have your flowers if I sit up all
+night to make them.”
+
+But Belle still shook her head and watched the smiling face before
+her with wondering eyes, till the girl added, with sudden color in her
+cheeks:
+
+“Ah, you've done so many kind things in your life, you don't remember
+the little errand girl from Madame Tifany's who stole a rose in your
+hall, and how you gave her rubber boots and cake and flowers, and were
+so good to her she couldn't forget it if she lived to be a hundred.”
+
+“But you are so changed,” began Belle, who did faintly recollect that
+little incident in her happy life.
+
+“Yes, I had a fall and hurt myself so that I shall always be lame.”
+
+And Lizzie went on to tell how Madame had dismissed her in a rage; how
+she lay ill till Mrs. Brown sent her to the hospital; and how for a year
+she had suffered much alone, in that great house of pain, before one of
+the kind visitors had befriended her.
+
+While hearing the story of the five years, that had been so full of
+pleasure, ease and love for herself, Belle forgot her errand, and,
+sitting beside Lizzie, listened with pitying eyes to all she told of her
+endeavors to support herself by the delicate handiwork she loved.
+
+“I'm very happy now,” ended Lizzie, looking about the little bare room
+with a face full of the sweetest content. “I get nearly work enough to
+pay my way, and Estelle sends me some when she has more than she can do.
+I've learned to do it nicely, and it is so pleasant to sit here and make
+flowers instead of trudging about in the wet with other people's hats.
+Though I do sometimes wish I was able to trudge, one gets on so slowly
+with crutches.”
+
+A little sigh followed the words, and Belle put her own plump hand on
+the delicate one that held the crutch, saying, in her cordial young
+voice:
+
+“I'll come and take you to drive sometimes, for you are too pale, and
+you'll get ill sitting here at work day after day. Please let me; I'd
+love to; for I feel so idle and wicked when I see busy people like you
+that I reproach myself for neglecting my duty and having more than my
+share of happiness.”
+
+Lizzie thanked her with a look, and then said, in a tone of interest
+that was delightful to hear:
+
+“Tell about the wreath you want; I should so love to do it for you, if I
+can.”
+
+Belle had forgotten all about it in listening to this sad little story
+of a girl's life. Now she felt half ashamed to talk of so frivolous a
+matter till she remembered that it would help Lizzie; and, resolving to
+pay for it as never garland was paid for before, she entered upon the
+subject with renewed interest.
+
+“You shall have the flowers in time for your ball to-morrow night. I
+will engage to make a wreath that will please you, only it may take
+longer than I think. Don't be troubled if I don't send it till evening;
+it will surely come in time. I can work fast, and this will be the
+happiest job I ever did,” said Lizzie, beginning to lay out mysterious
+little tools and bend delicate wires.
+
+“You are altogether too grateful for the little I have done. It makes
+me feel ashamed to think I did not find you out before and do something
+better worth thanks.”
+
+“Ah, it wasn't the boots or the cake or the roses, dear Miss Belle. It
+was the kind looks, the gentle words, the way it was done, that went
+right to my heart, and did me more good than a million of money. I never
+stole a pin after that day, for the little rose wouldn't let me forget
+how you forgave me so sweetly. I sometimes think it kept me from greater
+temptations, for I was a poor, forlorn child, with no one to keep me
+good.”
+
+Pretty Belle looked prettier than ever as she listened, and a bright
+tear stood in either eye like a drop of dew on a blue flower. It touched
+her very much to learn that her little act of childish charity had been
+so sweet and helpful to this lonely girl, and now lived so freshly in
+her grateful memory. It showed her, suddenly, how precious little deeds
+of love and sympathy are; how strong to bless, how easy to perform, how
+comfortable to recall. Her heart was very full and tender just then, and
+the lesson sunk deep into it never to be forgotten.
+
+She sat a long time watching flowers bud and blossom under Lizzie's
+skilful fingers, and then hurried home to tell all her glad news to
+mamma.
+
+If the next day had not been full of most delightfully exciting events,
+Belle might have felt some anxiety about her wreath, for hour after hour
+went by and nothing arrived from Lizzie.
+
+Evening came, and all was ready. Belle was dressed, and looked so lovely
+that mamma declared she needed nothing more. But Marie insisted that
+the grand effect would be ruined without the garland among the sunshiny
+hair. Belle had time now to be anxious, and waited with growing
+impatience for the finishing touch to her charming toilette.
+
+“I must be downstairs to receive, and can't wait another moment; so
+put in the blue pompon and let me go,” she said at last, with a sigh
+of disappointment, for the desire to look beautiful that night in
+Somebody's eyes had increased four-fold.
+
+With a tragic gesture, Marie was about to adjust the pompon when the
+quick tap of a crutch came down the hall, and Lizzie hurried in, flushed
+and breathless, but smiling happily as she uncovered the box she carried
+with a look of proud satisfaction.
+
+A general “Ah!” of admiration arose as Belle, mamma, and Marie surveyed
+the lovely wreath that lay before them; and when it was carefully
+arranged on the bright head that was to wear it, Belle blushed with
+pleasure. Mamma said: “It is more beautiful than any Paris could have
+sent us;” and Marie clasped her hands theatrically, sighing, with her
+head on one side:
+
+“Truly, yes; mademoiselle is now adorable!”
+
+“I am so glad you like it. I did my very best and worked all night, but
+I had to beg one spray from Estelle, or, with all my haste, I could not
+have finished in time,” said Lizzie, refreshing her weary eyes with a
+long, affectionate gaze at the pretty figure before her.
+
+A fold of the airy skirt was caught on one of the blue clusters, and
+Lizzie knelt down to arrange it as she spoke. Belle leaned toward her
+and said softly: “Money alone can't pay you for this kindness; so tell
+me how I can best serve you. This is the happiest night of my life, and
+I want to make every one feel glad also.”
+
+“Then don't talk of paying me, but promise that I may make the flowers
+you wear on your wedding-day,” whispered Lizzie, kissing the kind hand
+held out to help her rise, for on it she saw a brilliant ring, and in
+the blooming, blushing face bent over her she read the tender little
+story that Somebody had told Belle that day.
+
+“So you shall! and I'll keep this wreath all my life for your sake,
+dear,” answered Belle, as her full heart bubbled over with pitying
+affection for the poor girl who would never make a bridal garland for
+herself.
+
+Belle kept her word, even when she was in a happy home of her own; for
+out of the dead roses bloomed a friendship that brightened Lizzie's
+life; and long after the blue garland was faded Belle remembered the
+helpful little lesson that taught her to read the faces poverty
+touches with a pathetic eloquence, which says to those who look,
+“Forget-me-not.”
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Marjorie's Three Gifts, by Louisa May Alcott
+
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