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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/6360.txt b/6360.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f483448 --- /dev/null +++ b/6360.txt @@ -0,0 +1,9365 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Half a Dozen Girls, by Anna Chapin Ray +#2 in our series by Anna Chapin Ray + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing +this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. + +This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project +Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: Half a Dozen Girls + +Author: Anna Chapin Ray + +Release Date: August, 2004 [EBook #6360] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on December 1, 2002] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HALF A DOZEN GIRLS *** + + + + +Produced by Ralph Zimmerman, Steve Schulze, Charles Franks +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + +HALF A DOZEN GIRLS + +by + +ANNA CHAPIN RAY + + + +TO MY PARENTS + +I OFFER THESE MEMORIES OF A HAPPY, NAUGHTY CHILDHOOD. + + My fairest child, I have no song to give you; + No lark could pipe to skies so dull and gray: + Yet, ere we part, one lesson I can leave you + For every day. + + "Be good, sweet maid, and let who will be clever; + Do noble things, not dream them, all day long: + And so make life, death, and that vast forever + One grand, sweet song." + + +CHARLES KINGSLEY. + + + + +CONTENTS. + + +I. THE ADAMS FAMILY + +II. THE V + +III. THE GIRLS TRY TO IMPROVE THEIR MINDS + +IV. MISS BEAN COMES TO LUNCH + +V. TWO MORE GIRLS + +VI. POLLY ENCOUNTERS THE SERVANT QUESTION + +VII. POLLY'S HOUSEKEEPING + +VIII. HALLOWEEN + +IX. THE NEW READING CLUB + +X. POLLY'S POEM + +XI. JEAN'S CHRISTMAS EVE + +XII. HALF A DOZEN COOKS + +XIII. ALAN AND POLLY HAVE A DRESS REHEARSAL + +XIV. POLLY'S DARK DAY + +XV. THE PLAY + +XVI. JOB GOES TO A FUNERAL + +XVII. MISS BEAN'S VISIT IS RETURNED + +XVIII. MR. BAXTER TAKES A NAP + +XIX. KATHARINE'S CALL + +XX. ONE LAST GLIMPSE + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +THE ADAMS FAMILY. + + + "'There was a little girl, + And she had a little curl, + And it hung right down over her forehead; + And when she was good, + She was very, very good, + And when she was bad, _she was horrid_!'" + + +"And that's you!" chanted Polly Adams in a vigorous crescendo, as +she watched the retreating figure of her guest. Then climbing down +from her perch on the front gate, she added to herself, "Mean old +thing! I s'pose she thinks I care because she's gone home; but I'm +glad of it, so there!" And with an emphatic shake of her curly +head, she ran into the house. + +Up-stairs, in the large front room, sat her mother and her aunt, +busy with their sewing. The blinds were closed, to keep out the +warm sun of a sultry July day, and only an occasional breath of +air found its way in between their tightly turned slats. The whir +of the locust outside, and the regular creak, creak of Aunt Jane's +tall rocking-chair were the only sounds to break the stillness. +This peaceful scene was ruthlessly disturbed by Polly, who came +flying into the room and dropped into a chair at her mother's +side. + +"Oh, how warm you are here!" she exclaimed, as she pushed back the +short red-gold hair that curled in little, soft rings about her +forehead. + +"Little girls that will run on such a day as this must expect to +be warm," remarked Aunt Jane sedately, while she measured a hem +with a bit of paper notched to show the proper width. "Now if you +and Molly would bring your patchwork up here, and sew quietly with +your mother and me, you would be quite cool and comfortable." + +"Patchwork!" echoed Polly, with a scornful little laugh. "Girls +don't sew patchwork nowadays, Aunt Jane." + +"It would be better for them if they did, then," returned Aunt +Jane severely. "It is a much more useful way of spending one's +time, than embroidering nonsensical red wheels and flowers and +birds on your aprons, as you have been doing. Your grandmother +used to make us sew patchwork; and before I was your age, I had +pieced up three bedquilts,--one rising-sun, one fox-chase, and the +other just plain boxes." + +"I don't care," Polly interrupted saucily; "I never could see the +use of cutting up yards and yards of calico, just for the sake of +sewing it together again. Wouldn't you rather have me make you a +pretty apron, Jerusalem?" And she leaned over to pat her mother's +cheek affectionately, as she added, "And besides, Molly's gone +home." + +"Has she?" asked Mrs. Adams, in some surprise. "I thought she was +going to spend the day." + +Polly blushed a little. + +"So she was," she admitted at length; "but she changed her mind." + +Mrs. Adams looked at her little daughter inquiringly for a moment, +and seemed about to speak, but catching the eye of Aunt Jane, who +was watching them sharply, she only said,-- + +"I am sorry; for I wanted to send a pattern to Mrs. Hapgood, when +she went home, and now I shall have to wait." + +"I'll take it over now, mamma; I'd just as soon." And Polly jumped +up and caught her sailor hat from the table where she had tossed +it. + +"I should like to have you, if you will, Polly. It is in my room, +and I'll get it for you." + +She put down her work and went out into the hall, followed by +Polly. + +"Have you and Molly been quarrelling again?" she asked, when the +door had closed between them and Aunt Jane. + +"Only a little bit, mamma," confessed Polly. "Molly was teasing me +all the time, and at last I was mad, so I said I wished she'd go +home, and she went right straight off." + +"I am sorry my daughter should be so rude to her company," began +Mrs. Adams soberly. + +"So'm I," interrupted Polly; "I don't mean to; but she makes me +cross, and before I know it I flare up. I wish she hadn't gone, +too; for we promised to go over to see Florence this afternoon, +and she'll think it is queer if we don't." + +"I wish you would try to be a little more patient, Polly," said +her mother. "You mustn't be cross every time that Molly laughs at +you; and you answered Aunt Jane very rudely just now. You need to +watch that tongue of yours, my dear, and not let it run away with +you. And now take this to Mrs. Hapgood, and tell her she will need +to allow a good large seam when she cuts it, for Molly is taller +than you." + +"Yes'm," said Polly meekly, as she held up her face for the kiss, +without which she never left the house. + +Then she slowly went down the stairs, and out at the door, +thinking over what her mother had just said to her, and resolving, +as she did at least twice every day, that she would never, never +quarrel with Molly again. But not in vain had Mrs. Adams devoted +the past thirteen years to watching her only child, and she +understood Polly's present mood well enough to call to her from +the window,-- + +"You'd better bring Molly back to lunch, I think. We're going to +have raspberry shortcake, and you know she likes that." + +And Polly looked up, with a brightening face, to answer,-- + +"All right." + +Then, in spite of the warm day, she went hurrying off down the +street, while her mother stood by the window, watching until the +bright curls under the blue sailor hat had passed out of sight. +Then she turned away with a half-smile, saying to herself,-- + +"Poor Polly! She has hard times fighting her temper; but Molly +does tease her unmercifully. After all, she comes naturally by it, +for she's very much as I was, at her age." + +"What's the matter?" queried Aunt Jane, as her sister came back +and took up her work once more. "Have Molly and Polly been having +another fuss?" + +"Nothing serious, I think," said Mrs. Adams lightly. + +Aunt Jane's thin lips straightened out into an ominous line as she +answered,-- + +"Strange those two children can't get on together! I think it is +largely Polly's fault, for Molly is a sweet, quiet girl. You are +spoiling Polly, Isabel, as I keep telling you. Some day you'll +come to realize it, and be sorry." + +Mrs. Adams bit her lip for an instant, and a clear, bright color +came into her cheeks; but after a moment she replied quietly,-- + +"You must allow me to be the judge of that, Jane." + +"Of course you can do as you like with your own child," retorted +Aunt Jane stiffly; "but I can't shut my eyes to what is going on +around me, and let a naturally good child be spoiled for want of a +firm hand, without saying a word to stop it. Your mother didn't +bring you up in that way, Isabel, though she did indulge you a +great deal more than she did us older children." + +As Aunt Jane paused, Mrs. Adams rose abruptly and left the room, +saying something about a letter which she must write in time for +the next mail. + +Aunt Jane could be exasperating at times, as even her younger +sister was forced to admit, and occasionally she was driven to the +necessity of running away from her, rather than yield to the +temptation of answering sharp words with sharper. Mrs. Adams could +and did bear patiently with unasked advice in all matters but one; +but in regard to the discipline of her little daughter she stood +firm, for she and her husband had agreed that here Aunt Jane was +not to be allowed to interfere. Yet, though Aunt Jane soon found +that her sister left her and went away whenever the subject was +mentioned, the worthy woman was not to be turned aside, but +returned to the charge with unfailing persistency. + +The intimacy between mother and daughter was a peculiar one, and +at times seemed far more like that between two sisters. Mrs. Adams +was one of the women whose highest ambition was of the rather old- +fashioned kind,--to make a pleasant, homelike home, and to be an +intelligent, helpful wife and mother. From her quiet corner she +looked out at her friends who had "careers," with curiosity rather +than envy, and, for herself, was content to have her world bounded +by the interests of her husband and Polly. It might be a narrow +life, but it was a busy and a happy one. With all her household +cares, she still found time to look into the books which were +interesting her husband, and intelligently discuss their contents +with him; she read aloud with Polly, played games with her, and +watched over her with a quick understanding of this warm-hearted, +impetuous little daughter, in whom she saw herself so closely +reflected that she knew, from the memory of her own childhood, +just how to deal with all of Polly's freaks and whims. And her +endless patience and devotion were well rewarded, for Polly adored +her pretty, bright little mother with all the fervor of her being. +There were times, it is true, when Polly rebelled against all +restraint; but such moments were of short duration, and, for the +most part, she yielded easily to the pleasant, firm discipline +which made duty enjoyable, and punishment the necessary result of +wrong-doing, a result as hard for the mother to inflict as for the +child to bear. In her gentler moods, Polly realized that nowhere +else could she find so good a friend, so interested and +sympathetic in all that concerned her, and the two spent long +hours together, now talking quite seriously, now chattering and +laughing like children, with a perfect good-fellowship which +appeared very disrespectful to Aunt Jane, who believed in the old- +time rule, that children should be seen, not heard. However, Polly +never minded Aunt Jane's frown in the least, but went on playing +with her mother and petting her, confiding to her her joys and +sorrows, her friendships and her quarrels, and calling her by an +endless succession of endearing names, of which her latest was +Jerusalem, an epithet taken from her favorite, "Oh, Mother dear, +Jerusalem," and adapted to its present use, to the great +mystification of her aunt, to whom Polly refused to explain its +derivation. + +Between his office hours and his patients, Polly saw but little of +her father; for Dr. Adams was the popular physician of the large, +quiet, old New England town where they lived. A man who had grown +up among books, and among thinking, wide-awake people, he was a +worthy descendant of the two presidents with whom he claimed +kinship. He was a strong, fine-looking man, so full of quiet +energy that his very presence in the sick-room was encouraging to +the invalid; and he had come to be at once the friend, physician, +and adviser of every family in town, whether rich or poor. If his +patients could afford to pay him for his visits, very well; if +not, it was just as well, for neither Dr. Adams nor his wife +desired to be rich. To live comfortably themselves, to lay up a +little for the future, and to be able to help their poorer +neighbors, now and then,--this was all they wished, and this was +easily accomplished. In past years, two or three other doctors had +settled in the town; but after a few months of trial they had +closed their offices and gone away, because not one of Dr. Adams's +patients could be tempted to leave him, and his lively black horse +and shabby buggy were seen flying about the streets, while their +shiny new carriages either stood idle in their stables, or were +taken out for an occasional pleasure drive. + +If Polly had been asked what was her greatest trial, her answer, +truthful and emphatic, would have been: "Aunt Jane." It was a +mystery to her as, indeed, it was to every one else, how two +sisters could be so unlike. Mrs. Adams was a pretty, graceful +little woman, with a dainty charm about her, and a winning, off- +hand manner, which made her a favorite with both young and old. +Aunt Jane Roberts was tall and thin, with a cast-iron sort of +countenance, surmounted by a row of little, tight, gray frizzles +of such remarkable durability that, though evidently the result of +art rather than nature, neither wind nor storm, appeared to have +any effect upon them. On festal occasions it was her habit to +adorn herself with a symmetrical little blue satin bow, placed +above these curls and slightly to one side; but there was nothing +in the least flippant or coquettish about this decoration, for it +was as precise and unvarying as the gray frizz below it, and only +seemed to intensify the hard, unyielding lines of her face. + +Miss Roberts was fifteen years older than her sister, and she +appeared to have been stamped with the seal of single blessedness +while she still lay in her cradle and played with her rattle;-- +that is, if she ever had unbent so far as to play with anything. +Even her walk was not like that of most women; she moved along +with a slow, deliberate stride which was at times almost spectral, +and reminded one of the resistless, onward march of the fates. +Aunt Jane was serious-minded and progressive, and, worst of all, +she was conscientious. However great a blessing a conscience must +be considered, there are some consciences that make their owners +extremely unpleasant. Whenever Aunt Jane was particularly trying, +her friends brought forward the singular excuse: "Jane is +_so_ conscientious; she means to do just right." And she +certainly did. So far as she could distinguish its direction, Aunt +Jane trod the path of duty, but she trod it as a martyr, not like +one who finds it a pleasant, sunshiny road, with bright, +interesting spots scattered all along its way. She had advanced +ideas about women and pronounced theories as to the rearing of +children; she was a member of countless clubs, and served on all +the committees to talk about reform; she visited the jail +periodically, and marched through the wards of the hospital with a +stony air of sympathy highly gratifying to the inmates, who tried +to be polite to her because of her relationship to the doctor, +whom they all adored. The demands of her public duties left Miss +Roberts little time for home life; but in the few rare intervals, +she sewed for her sister, refusing the more attractive work, and +devoting herself to sheets, pillow-cases, and kitchen towels, in +the penitential, self-sacrificing way which is so trying to the +person receiving the favor. She appeared to regard these labors as +an offset to the frank criticisms of her sister's housekeeping, +which she never hesitated to make when the opportunity offered. +Aunt Jane had come to live with her sister soon after Mrs. Adams +was married; and the doctor's happy, even temper enabled him to +make the best of the situation, though he had at once given Miss +Roberts to understand that she was in no way to interfere with him +or his concerns. + +No introduction to the Adams family would be complete which failed +to mention Job Trotter, for Job was a faithful servant who had +done good service for many a long day. He was the old family horse +whom the doctor had driven for years, but who, owing to age and +infirmity, had been put on the retired list as a veteran, and +given over to the tender mercies of Mrs. Adams. She changed his +youthful nickname of Trot to the more fitting one of Job, and +stoutly maintained his superiority to the lively colt that +succeeded him between the thills of the doctor's buggy. Job, too, +appeared to share her opinion, and never failed to give a vicious +snap at his rival, whenever they came in contact. There was a +family legend that Job had been a fast animal in his day, and Mrs. +Adams often told the story of the doctor's first ride after him: +how, at the end of a mile, he had turned his pale face to the +horse-dealer who was driving, and piteously besought him: "In +mercy's name, man, let me get out; I've had enough of this!" But +all this was enveloped in the haze of the remote past, and now Job +was neither a dangerous nor exhilarating steed, but rather, a +restful one, who allowed his driver to contemplate the landscape +and impress its charms upon his memory. Job had been twenty-three +years old when the doctor handed him over to his wife; and, as if +to prove his relationship to the family, and to Aunt Jane in +particular, he had never advanced a year in age since then, but, +long, long afterwards, his headstone bore the legend: + + IN MEMORY OF + JOB TROTTER, + A FAITHFUL FRIEND, + WHO DIED AT THE AGE OF TWENTY-THREE. + + +A rear view of Job still showed him a fine-looking horse, for his +delicate skin, slightly dappled here and there, his long, thick +tail and proudly arching neck plainly betokened his aristocracy. +But unfortunately, reckless driving in his youth had bent his fore +legs to a decided angle, and turned in his toes in an absurdly +deprecating fashion, until Mrs. Adams declared that she would put +a skirt on him to cover these defects, unless people stopped +turning to look after him and laugh. + +But it was when he was in motion that Job exhibited his +peculiarities to the best advantage. His ordinary gait was a slow, +dignified walk, varied, at times, by a trot of which the direction +was of the up-and-down species, and made his progress even slower +than usual. But now and then the old fellow would seem to be +inspired with a little of his former spirit, and, after a skittish +little kick, he would straighten his body with a suddenness which +brought Mrs. Adams to her feet, and rush off at a mad pace that +soon faltered and failed, when the old brown head would turn, and +the gentle eyes seem to say pleadingly,-- + +"I did try, but I can't." + +In reality, the cause of Job's slowness lay, not so much in his +age as in his afflicted knees; and they kept his driver in a +constant state of anxiety as to which pair would give out next. +Now his hind legs would suddenly fail him, and he would apparently +attempt to seat himself in the dust; then, just as he had +recovered from that shock, his front knees would collapse, and Job +would plunge madly forward on his venerable nose. + +But, after all, they had many a pleasant drive up and down the +country roads, where the old horse plodded onwards, apparently +enjoying the scenery as much as his mistress did, now stopping to +graze by the roadside, now suddenly turning aside and, before his +driver was aware of his intention, landing her in the dooryard of +some farmhouse where the doctor had visited a patient years +before. For Job had a retentive memory, and was never known to +forget a road or a house where he had once been. During the last +of the time that the doctor had driven him, he had lent him to do +occasional service at funerals, where Job was never known to +disgrace himself by breaking into an indecorous trot. Something in +the ceremony of these melancholy journeys had struck Job's fancy +and impressed the circumstances on his memory to such an extent +that, ever after, he was reluctant to pass the cemetery gate, but +tugged hard at the lines to show his desire to enter. It was not +so bad when Mrs. Adams and Polly were by themselves; but Mrs. +Adams often invited some convalescing patient of the doctor to go +for a quiet little drive, and it was mortifying to have Job, +taking advantage of the moment when his mistress was deep in +conversation, stalk solemnly under the arching gateway and bring +his invalid passenger to a halt beside some new-made grave. There +seemed to be no apology that could fitly meet the occasion and do +away with the gloomy suggestiveness of the situation. + +Aunt Jane rarely had time to drive with Job, for an ordinarily +fast walker could pass him by; but Polly and her mother enjoyed +him to the utmost, and spoiled him as much as they enjoyed him, +letting him stroll along as he chose, stopping whenever and +wherever he wished. To avoid being dependent on the man, who was +often away driving the doctor upon his rounds, Mrs. Adams had +learned to harness Job herself, and nearly every pleasant day she +could be seen buckling the straps and fastening him into the +carriage, while the old creature stood quiet, rubbing his head +against her shoulder, now and then, with a gentle, caressing +motion, or turning suddenly to pretend to snap at Polly, who was +much in awe of him, and then throwing up his head and showing his +teeth, in a scornful laugh at her fear. + +This was the family circle in which Polly Adams had spent the +thirteen happy years of her life, respecting and loving her +father, adoring her mother, and continually coming in conflict +with Aunt Jane. And Polly herself? Like countless other girls, she +was good and bad, naughty and lovable by turns, now yielding to +violent fits of temper, now going into the depths of penitence for +them; but always, in the inmost recesses of her childish soul, +possessed with a firm resolve to be as good a woman as her mother +was before her. She knew no higher ambition. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +THE V. + + +Everybody in town knew the Hapgood house. It stood close to the +street, under a row of huge elms, and surrounded with clumps of +purple and white lilac bushes whose topmost blossoms peeped +curiously in at the chamber windows. Such houses are only found in +New England, but there they abound with their broad front +"stoops," the long slant of their rear roofs, where a ladder is +firmly fixed, to serve in case of fire, and the great, low rooms +grouped around the immense chimney in the middle. The Hapgood +house had been in the family for generations, and was kept in such +an excellent state of repair that it bade fair to outlast many of +the more recent houses of the town. A wing had been built out at +the side; but even with this modern addition, no one needed to +glance up at the date on the chimney--sixteen hundred and no- +matter-what--to assure himself of the great age of the stately old +house before him. + +Up in the Hapgood attic a serious consultation was going on. + +"Now, girls," Polly Adams began solemnly, "'most half of our +vacation has gone, and I think we ought to do something before +it's over." + +"Aren't we doing something this very minute, I should like to +know?" inquired Molly Hapgood, who had felt privileged, in her +capacity as hostess, to throw herself down on the old bed which +occupied one corner of the garret. + +Polly frowned on such levity. + +"I don't mean that, Molly, and you know it. What I think is, that +we should get together regularly every two or three days and do +something special. Aunt Jane is in lots of clubs and things, and-- +" + +"I've heard it said," interrupted Jean Dwight solemnly, "that Aunt +Jane spent so much time doing good outside that she never had a +chance to be good at home." "Now, Jean, that isn't fair," said +Polly laughing. "You know I'd be the very last one to hold up Aunt +Jane as an example, only she has such good times with her +everlasting old people that I thought we might do something like +it." + +"Which do you propose to do," asked Molly disrespectfully, "start +a society for the improvement of the jail or open a mission at the +poor-house to teach Miss Bean some manners?" + +"Let's have a dramatic club, and get up a play," suggested the +fourth member of the group, who was seated on a dilapidated hair- +covered trunk under the open window, regardless of the strong east +wind which now and then lifted a stray lock of her long yellow +hair and blew it forward across her cheek. + +"What a splendid idea, Florence!" said Jean, rapturously bouncing +about in her seat on the foot of the bed. "How does that suit you, +Polly?" + +"We might do that, for one thing," assented Polly cautiously; "but +oughtn't we to try something a little--well, a little improving, +too." "I'd like to know if that wouldn't be improving?" asked +Molly. "It would teach us to act, and then, if we wanted, we could +charge an admission fee and raise some money." + +"I think it would be splendid, girls," said Polly, in spite of +herself carried away by the prospect, and forgetting her own plan. +"What shall we take?" + +"Let's take 'Uncle Tom's Cabin,'" said Jean. "We could make it +over into a play easily enough, and Florence would be just the one +for Eva. Alan could be Uncle Tom, you know." + +"I think we could get something better than that," remarked +Florence, in some disgust. "If I'm Eva, I'll have to die, and I +don't know the first thing about that." + +"Oh, that's easy enough," answered Molly, with the air of one who +had experience; "just stiffen yourself out and fall over. But I +don't believe you could ever get Alan to act." + +"Why not take a ready-made play?" asked Polly. "It would save ever +so much work." + +"What is there?" said Molly, sitting up to discuss the matter. + +"We don't want any Shakespeare," added Jean; "that's all killing, +and Florence doesn't want to go dead, you know." + +"I'll tell you what, girls," said Molly, as if struck with a +sudden idea, "we'll have an original play, and Jean shall write +it." + +Florence and Polly applauded the suggestion, while Jean groaned,-- + +"I can't, girls. I never could in this world." + +"Yes, you can," returned Molly, who had firm faith in her friend's +ability. "You go right to work on it, and you ought to get it all +done in a week or two, so we can give it before school opens." + +"And we want just five people in it," said Polly. "I know I can +get Alan to act, if Molly can't." + +Molly shrugged her shoulders incredulously, while Jean inquired, +with the calmness of desperation,-- + +"What shall it be about?" + +"John Smith and Pocahontas," replied Polly promptly. "He almost +gets killed, and doesn't quite; so that will get the audience all +stirred up, but save the trouble of dying." + +"But that only needs three," observed Florence thoughtfully, "and +there are five of us." + +"Doesn't he take her home to England, I'd like to know? There's a +picture in the history where he shows Pocahontas to the queen. One +of us can be king, and the other queen." + +"But at court there are always lots of people round," remonstrated +Florence, with an eye to the truth of the situation. + +"Never mind; we can make believe that the queen has sent them off, +so as not to scare Pocahontas; that's what they call poetical +license," said Polly. "Jean can see about that. There are lots of +splendid things to wear, right here in this garret. Don't you +suppose your mother would let us take them, Molly?" + +"Yes, I know she will," replied Molly. + +There was silence for a moment, while the girls considered the +matter. Then Polly returned to her first charge. + +"But it will take a good while to get ready to start this, so I'd +like to suggest our doing something else, while we wait." + +"Polly has something in her head," said Jean. "Tell us what 'tis, +Poll," + +"Well, I'll tell you," said Polly, as she rose and began to walk +up and down the floor. "Aunt Jane was scolding, the other day, +because I hadn't read 'Pilgrim's Progress.' She said it was a +living disgrace to me, and that I must do it, right off. Now, what +if we have a reading club and do it together? Have any of you read +it? I don't believe you ever have." + +The girls admitted that they had not. + +"That's just what I thought," said Polly triumphantly. "It's so +stupid that I can't do it alone, for I read the first page +yesterday, and I know. But we don't any of us want to be 'a living +disgrace'; so what if we read aloud an hour every other afternoon? +'T wouldn't take us so very long, and," here she laughed frankly, +"I don't suppose it would hurt us any." + +"I don't know but we ought to," remarked Molly virtuously, while +Jean added,-- + +"I've heard people say it was like measles. You'd better take it +young, if you did at all." + +"When shall we begin?" demanded Polly, fired with enthusiasm at +the prospect. + +"To-morrow," said Molly; "and you'd better come here to read, for +we can be nice and quiet up here. Come to-morrow at three, and +we'll read till four." + +"Oh!" exclaimed Florence, suddenly springing up, as a small, dark +body came flying in at the open window above her head, and went +tumbling across the floor and down the stairs. + +"What was that?" asked Molly, rolling off the bed. + +"A green apple. I think," replied Polly, as she ran after it and +seized it. "Yes; here it is." + +"That's Alan's doing," said Molly sternly, "I do wish he'd ever +let us alone." + +"I don't," said Polly, coming to his defence; "he's ever so much +fun. I get tired of all girls." + +"Thank you, ma'am," said Jean quickly, bowing low, in answer to +the compliment. + +But Polly missed the bow, for her curly head was out of the +window, and she was laughing down at a slender, light-haired lad +who was just taking fresh aim at the open window. + +"Come up here, Alan!" she called. + +"Oh, don't, Polly!" remonstrated Molly from within. "He'll laugh +at us, and spoil all our fun." + +"No, he won't," answered Polly valiantly; then, more loudly, "What +did you say, Alan?" + +"What are you girls about up there?" he inquired. + +"Come up and see." And she drew in her head just in time to escape +a second missile. + +"All right; I'll come if you'll promise to play something, and not +spend all your time gabbling." And Alan vanished through the side +door. A minute or two afterwards, his shoes were heard clattering +up the attic stairs. + +The four girls, whom he found sitting in a row on the edge of the +bed, were such good friends of him and of each other, that the +five were commonly spoken of as "the V," or, sometimes, as "the +quintette." Alan Hapgood, who was regarded as the point of the V, +was a wide-awake, irrepressible youth of twelve, who had a large +share in the doings of his older sister and her friends. They did +their best to spoil him by their unlimited admiration; but, to be +sure, the temptation to do so was a strong one, for Alan was a +lovable fellow, always merry and good-natured, generous and +accommodating to his friends, and quick to plan and execute the +pranks which added the spice of mischief to the doings of the V. +In person he was tall for his age, and slight, with thick, yellow +hair, that lay in a smooth, soft line across his forehead, large +gray eyes, and a generous mouth, full of strong, white teeth which +were usually in sight, for Alan was nearly always laughing,--not +a handsome boy, exactly, for his features were quite irregular, +but a splendid one, whom one would instinctively select as a +gentleman's son, and an intelligent, manly lad. + +His sister Molly, two years older, was an attractive, bright girl, +whose only beauty lay in her smooth, heavy braids of brown hair. +She and Polly had been constant companions from their babyhood, +had quarrelled and "made up," had quarrelled and made up again, +three hundred and sixty-five days a year for the last thirteen +years, and at the end of that time they were closer friends than +ever. Two girls more unlike it would have been hard to find, for +Molly was as quiet and deliberate as Polly was impetuous; but +nevertheless, in spite of their continual disagreements, they were +inseparable. They were in the same class in school and in Sunday- +school, they had the same friends, and read the same books, and +had a share in the same mischief. They even carried this trait so +far as to both come down with mumps on the same day, when their +unwonted absence from school was the source of much speculation +among their friends, who fondly pictured them as indulging in some +frolic, until the melancholy truth was known. + +Next to Alan, Jean Dwight was the boy of the V, a strong, hearty, +happy young woman of fourteen, who succeeded in getting a great +deal of enjoyment out of this humdrum, work-a-day world. Her rosy +cheeks glowed and her brown eyes shone with health; for Jean was +as full of life as a young colt, and vented her superfluous energy +in climbing trees, walking fences, and running races, until Aunt +Jane and her followers raised their hands and eyes in well-bred +horror. But Jean's unselfish devotion to her mother, her real +refinement, her quick understanding, and her sound common sense +did much to atone for her hoydenish ways, and gave promise of the +fine womanhood which lay before her. At first it had been a matter +of some surprise, in the aristocratic old town, that Mrs. Adams +and Mrs. Hapgood, representatives of "our first families," as they +were universally acknowledged to be, could allow their children to +be so intimate with Jean Dwight, whose father was only a +carpenter, and whose mother took in sewing. However, any comments +were promptly silenced when Mrs. Adams had been heard to say, one +day, that she was always glad to have Polly with such a womanly +girl as Jean Dwight, so free from any nonsensical, grown-up airs. +From that time onward Jean's position was an established fact. + +Florence Lang was the acknowledged beauty of the V, a dainty +maiden of thirteen, with fluffy, yellow hair, great blue eyes, and +a pink and white skin which might have made a French doll sigh +with envy. The only daughter of a luxurious home, she was always +beautifully dressed, always quiet in her manners. No matter how +excited and demoralized the rest of the V might become, Florence +never failed to come out of the frolic as gentle and unspotted as +she went in, greatly to the disgust and envy of Polly, whose +clothes had a tendency to get mysteriously torn, whose shoes +appeared to go in search of dust, and whose short, curly hair had +a perfect genius for getting into a state of wild disorder. It was +not that Florence seemed to take any more care of herself than the +others, but she was naturally one of those favored beings to whom +no particle of dust could cling, who could use none but the +choicest language. Such gentle children have admirers enough; it +is the luckless, quick-tempered Pollies, the warm-hearted, harum- +scarum Jeans, who need a champion. + +If Molly and Polly had never disagreed, the quintette would have +been only a trio; for, when they were at peace, they were all in +all to each other. But in times of strife Molly was devoted to +Florence Lang, while Polly took refuge with Jean Dwight. In this +way the V was formed; and though the closest intimacy was between +Molly and Polly, the four girls were firm friends, and there were +few days when they were not to be found together, usually either +at the Hapgood house, or at Polly's, where their visit was never +quite satisfactory unless Mrs. Adams was in the midst of the +group. Alan, too, was often with them, for a tendency to +rheumatism, which occasionally developed into a severe attack of +the disease, kept him in rather delicate health, and prevented his +entering into the athletic sports which are the usual amusement +for lads of his age. But though he was thus, of necessity, thrown +much with his sister and her girl friends, Alan was far from +belonging to that uninteresting species of humanity, the girl-boy; +instead of that, he was a genuine, rollicking boy, with never a +trace of the prig about him. + +"Well, what was it you wanted of me?" Alan asked, as soon as his +head reached the level of the attic floor. + +"We didn't want you; you came," retorted Molly, with the frankness +of a sister. + +"No such thing; you called me,--at least, Polly did." And Alan +marched across the floor to seat himself beside his champion, sure +that there he would find a welcome. + +He was not mistaken, for Polly remarked protectingly,-- + +"I did call you, Alan, for we want to have some fun, this horrid +day, and we need you to stir us up." + +"All right; how shall I go to work?" inquired Alan cheerfully. +"Shall I dance a breakdown, or will you play tag?" + +"Let's play hide-and-seek," suggested Jean; "it's so nice and dark +up here, to-day." + +"Wait a minute," interposed Florence. "Alan, we may as well tell +you now: Jean is going to write a play for us to act, and you are +going to be John Smith and have your head cut off." + +"The mischief, I am!" with a prolonged whistle of surprise and +disgust. "It strikes me I have something to say about what shall +be done with my head." + +"Stop using such dreadful expressions, Alan," said Molly primly. +"You know mamma doesn't like to hear you say 'the mischief.'" + +"Well, she didn't, 'cause she isn't here," returned Alan, in +nowise abashed by his reproof. "And I don't believe she'd like to +hear you girls planning to cut my head off, either." + +"Oh, Alan, you goose!" said Polly. "John Smith's head wasn't cut +off, for Pocahontas saved him, you know. All you'll have to do +will be to lie down with your head on a stone, and have one of us +girls get ready to hit you with a club." + +"If you girls are going to manage the club," remarked the boy, +with masculine scorn, "I'd much rather have you try to hit me, for +then I'd be safe." + +"That's a very old joke, Alan," said Jean, with disgust; "and +besides, it isn't polite. You ought to be proud to be asked to +have a part in our grand play." + +"Will you act, or won't you?" demanded Polly sternly, as she +seized him by his short, thick hair. + +"Oh, anything to get peace," groaned Alan. + +"Say yes, then." + +"Yes." + +"Very well. Now, you are to be ready whenever we want you; you are +to do just what we want, and do it in just the way we want. Do you +promise?" + +"Yes, yes! But do hurry up and play something, or it will be dark +before you begin." + +"There!" said Polly, nodding triumphantly to the girls as she +released him. "Didn't I tell you I'd get him to act?" + +"You couldn't bribe him to keep out of it," said Jean, as they +sprang up for their game. + +The old attic was a favorite meeting-place for the V, who held +high carnival there, now racing up and down the great floor and +hiding in dark corners behind aged chests and spinning-wheels, now +robing themselves in the time-honored garments which had done duty +for various ancestors of the Hapgood family, and exchanging visits +of mock ceremony, or inviting Mrs. Hapgood up to witness a +remarkable tableau or an impromptu charade. Piles of illustrated +papers filled one corner, and, when all else failed, the children +used to pore over the sensational pictures of the Civil War, +dwelling with an especial interest on the scenes of death and +carnage. In another corner was arranged a long row of old +andirons, warming-pans, and candlesticks, flanked by an ancient +wooden cradle with a projecting cover above the head. Rows of +dilapidated chairs there were, of every date and every degree of +shabbiness,--those old friends which start in the parlor and +slowly descend in rank, first to the sitting-room or library, then +up-stairs, and so, by easy stages, to the hospital asylum of the +garret. And up through the very midst of it all, midway between +the two small windows which lighted the opposite ends of the +attic, rose the huge gray stone chimney, like a massive backbone +to the body of the house. What stories of the past the old chimney +could have told! What descriptions of Hapgoods, long dead, who had +warmed themselves about it! What secret papers had been burned in +its wide throat! What sweet and tender home scenes had been +enacted on the old settles ranged before its glowing hearths, +which put to shame our tiny modern fireplaces and insignificant +grates! But the old chimney kept its own counsel, and did not +whisper a word, even to the swallows that built their nests in the +crannies of its sides. If it had spoken, there would be no need +for any one else to write of the doings of the V; for the chimney +had silently watched the children day by day, and knew, better +than any one besides, the simple story of their young lives. + +"Now," Polly reminded them, as they were running down the stairs +an hour later; "remember to come to-morrow at just three, all of +you." + +"What's up?" inquired Alan curiously. + +"'Pilgrim's Progress,'" said Jean, as she leaped down from the +fourth stair, and landed in an ignominious pile on her knees; +"we're going to read it aloud together." + +"I'm sorry for you, then," responded Alan. "Mother read it to me +when I had scarlet fever, ever so long ago, and it's no end +stupid." + +"We're going to try it, anyway," said Polly, with an air of +determination. "Come on, Jean; it's time I was at home. I'll see +you to-morrow, girls." + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +THE GIRLS TRY TO IMPROVE THEIR MINDS. + + +Polly's reading-club started off valiantly the next afternoon, and +for an hour the girls read aloud industriously, while the rain +pattered on the shingles above their heads. The experiment had all +the charm of novelty, and the weather was in their favor, since +there was little temptation to be out of doors; so, at the close +of the first day, the reading was voted a great success. However, +the next time there was a slight decrease in the interest, and +Jean's suggestion as they sat down, that they should read for half +an hour and play games the rest of the time, was hailed with +delight by all but Polly, who was haunted by the possibility of +being that "living disgrace" which Aunt Jane had pronounced her. +Still, Polly was in the minority, and the change of programme was +adopted. At the third meeting, Molly was the one to propose an +adjournment at the end of the first quarter of an hour, and the +girls were not slow to take advantage of the suggestion, and go +rushing down-stairs, and out into the bright afternoon sunshine, +to join Alan who was lazily swinging in the hammock, with his eyes +fixed on the bits of white cloud that went drifting across the +blue above him. + +It was with an air of great decision that Polly marched up the +attic stairs, two days later. She had purposely delayed her +coming, and the others were anxiously awaiting her. The warm sun +streamed in at the western window, and threw a golden light over +the dainty summer gowns of the three girls who were in a row on +the slippery haircloth seat of an old mahogany sofa, which had an +empty starch-box substituted for its missing leg. Alan sat in +front of them, placidly rocking to and fro, astride the cradle +that he had dragged out into the middle of the floor, to serve as +an easy-chair. + +"Hurry up, Polyanthus," he remarked encouragingly. "These girls +are scolding me like everything, and I want you to come and fight +for me." + +"Do help us to send him off, Polly," his sister begged. "He +insisted on coming up here with us, even after I told him we +didn't want him." + +"Why don't you go out and play ball with the other boys, Alan?" +urged Jean. + +"Now, Jean, that's too bad!" said Polly, filled with righteous +indignation. "It's not fair to twit Alan because there are some +things he can't do." + +"Let him be," said Florence; "he'll get so tired of it at the end +of ten minutes, that nothing would tempt him to stay here." + +"Good for you, Florence; you're a trump," returned Alan. "I +promise you, I won't so much as speak, if you'll let me stay; but +it's awfully dull doing nothing, and mother's bound I shan't play +ball. You wouldn't catch me here, if I could." + +"Ungrateful wretch!" exclaimed Polly, while Jean added,-- + +"No danger of your saying anything! You'll be sound asleep before +we've read a page." + +"What's the use of reading it, then?" was Alan's pertinent +question. + +"I'm sure I don't know," answered Florence. "It's one of Polly's +ideas, or rather, Aunt Jane's." + +"Aunt Jane ought to be ganched!" remarked Alan, with calm +disrespect; for Polly made no secret of Aunt Jane's eccentricities, +and they were a common subject of discussion among the V. + +"I know it," confessed Polly, filled with shame at the thought of +having such a relative. + +"Come, Polly, what is the use of reading this poky old book?" +urged Molly. "'T isn't doing any of us the least bit of good. I've +listened just as hard as I could, and I'm sure I haven't any idea +what it's all about, it's told in such a queer way." + +Molly's use of the word "queer" said more than a dozen lesser +adjectives. She had a singularly expressive manner of drawing it +out, that threw untold meaning into its simple form. Alan used to +declare that, if Molly once pronounced anything queer, its +reputation was spoiled, as far as her hearers were concerned. This +time Jean upheld her. + +"It is very poky," she announced, as she pulled a bit of hair out +from one of the holes in the cushion, and fell to picking it to +pieces. "I think it's too warm weather for it, Polly. I don't care +what Aunt Jane says; I'm not going to waste these glorious summer +days over such stuff." And she pointed disdainfully at the book, a +square, clumsy volume, bound in dingy black cloth covers. + +Polly looked rather hurt. + +"I know all that, girls," she began; "but an hour a day, and only +every other day, too, isn't very much to spend on it." + +"It's an hour too much, though, Polly," said Molly decisively. +"This garret is so warm; wait till cooler weather, and then we'll +try again. We shouldn't have time to finish it, anyway, before +Jean had the play ready for us. How is it getting along, Jean?" + +"Awfully!" confessed Jean. "Whenever I sit down to write, my head +is as empty as an egg is, after you've blown it." + +"Now, you girls let me plan for you," said Alan, moved to pity by +Polly's downcast face. "You let your old book go till fall, and +then start again, but only read half an hour a day. That's all +your brains can take in, and I'll try to be on hand to explain it +to you. How does that suit, Poll?" + +"I suppose it will have to do," sighed Polly. "I hate to give up, +now we've started; but if you won't read, you won't." + +"Very true," remarked Jean, while Florence added,-- + +"Now, tell us truly, Polly, do you know what the man is talking +about half the time?" + +"No, I don't know as I do," admitted Polly. + +"Then what do you want to read it for?" pursued Florence, +determined to come to an understanding. + +"Oh, it sounds sort of good, you know," said Polly vaguely; "just +as if we ought to like it. 'Most everybody does read it, and I +didn't know but, if we kept at it long enough, it might teach us a +little something." + +"Who wants to be taught? And besides, I'd rather have something a +little fresher than this," said Jean, making no secret of her +heresy. + +"Polly! Polly!" called a voice from below. + +Polly sprang up from the floor, where she had seated herself. + +"That's mamma; what can she want?" she exclaimed, running to the +window and putting her head out. + +Down in the street sat Mrs. Adams in their low, two-seated +carriage, while Job stood nodding sleepily in the sun, as he +waited for the signal to proceed. + +"Don't you girls want to go for a little drive?" she called, as +her daughter's head came in sight. + +In an instant three other heads appeared, and she was saluted with +three voices,-- + +"How lovely!" + +"What fun!" + +"We'll be down in a minute." + +The minute was a short one; for the girls snatched their hats in +passing through the hall, and quickly surrounded the carriage, in +a gay, laughing group. Alan came sauntering down the stairs after +them, and stood leaning in the doorway, watching them settle +themselves preparatory to starting. Something in the lad's +position struck Mrs. Adams, and she beckoned to him. + +"Come too, Alan; that is, if you can stand it with so many girls." + +"May I? Is there room?" + +He ran out to the carriage, then stopped, hesitating, as he saw +Polly touch her mother's arm, and shake her head silently. + +"I don't believe I'll go," he said, drawing back. + +"Why not?" asked Mrs. Adams, in surprise. + +"I don't think Polly wants me to," answered the boy frankly. "I +don't want to be in the way." And he turned back to the house. + +"'Tisn't that, mamma," said Polly, blushing at being caught. "I'd +like to have Alan go, well enough, only I was afraid it would be +too much for Job to take so many of us." + +"In that case, you might have offered to be the one to give up," +said her mother, in a low tone, which, though very gentle, still +brought a deeper flush to Polly's face. Then she added to Alan, +"Nonsense, my boy! You are thin as a rail, and don't weigh +anything to speak of. Get in here this minute, and if Job gets +tired, I'll make you all walk home." + +Alan mounted to the front seat, where he made himself comfortable, +with a boyish disregard of Florence's fresh pink gingham gown; +Mrs. Adams shook the lines persuasively; Job waked and began to +trudge along with an air of sombre patience which would have done +credit to the scriptural original of his name. + +"I am glad you are all of you used to Job," said Mrs. Adams +smilingly, as they moved slowly down the main street and across +the railroad track. "He really has been a valuable horse in his +day, and there was a time when nothing could go by him,--why, +what is the matter?" And she looked around at the girls on the +back seat, as they burst into an irreverent laugh. + +"Nothing, mamma," said Polly, leaning forward with her elbows on +the back of the seat in front of her; "only we thought we'd heard +you say something about it before." + +"Let's drop them out, if they're so saucy," suggested Alan. "Don't +you want me to drive, Mrs. Adams?" + +"Thank you, Alan; but I don't dare trust you, when you are no more +used to him, for he stumbles so. Go on, Job!" she added, with an +inviting chirrup, as she leaned forward and rattled the whip up +and down in its socket, to remind Job of its existence. + +But Job was familiar with that operation, and from long experience +he had learned its lack of significance. Accordingly, he only +tilted one ear back towards his mistress, and went on at his +former jog. + +It was one of the finest days of the summer, one of the days when +the season seems to have reached its height and appears to be +standing still, for a moment, in the full enjoyment of its own +beauty. A shower early in the day had washed away the dust, and +every leaf and blossom by the roadside stood up in all the glad +pride of its clean face, and turned its eyes disdainfully upward, +away from the brown earth below. The girls chattered and laughed +while they rode through the town, past the cemetery, where Mrs. +Adams had some difficulty in overcoming Job's desire to turn in, +across the long white bridge over the river, and through the quiet +little village on its eastern bank. Then they turned southward, +where the road lay over the level meadows, now past a great corn- +field, now by the side of a piece of grass land dotted thickly +with large yellow daisies. At their right was the broad blue +river, shining like metal in the sun; before them rose the two +mountains that watch over the old town, one beautiful in its +irregular outlines, the other impressive in its bold dignity. No +one who has lived near these hills can ever forget their spell. +Though long years may have passed before his return, yet his first +glance is always towards the bare, rugged cliffs, the wooded +sides, and the white summit houses of these twin guardians of the +quiet valley town. + +"I believe I am perfectly happy," said Florence, with a sigh of +content, as she leaned back and surveyed the meadows. + +"I should be, if I could have some of those daisies," said Polly, +pointing to a great bunch of them close by. + +"Want 'em? All right, here goes!" And before Mrs. Adams could +bring Job to a halt, Alan was out over the wheel. + +"Don't stop; I can catch up with you," he called. "It's too hard +work to get Job under way again." + +He was as good as his word; for he hastily pulled up the flowers +by the roots, came running after the carriage, and tossed them +into Polly's lap. + +"There! Now aren't you glad you brought me?" he exclaimed +triumphantly, as he scrambled up the back of the carriage, like a +monkey, and worked his way along to the front seat again. "You're +a daisy, yourself, Alan," answered Polly, leaning out over the +wheel to break off the roots. "These are lovely. Want some, +girls?" + +"It's going to rain to-morrow, I just know," said Molly, +disregarding the daisies. "If it does, it will spoil our picnic, +and that will be a shame." + +"Oh, it won't rain," said Jean. "What makes you think so, Molly?" + +"It always does," said Molly wisely, "when the hills look such a +lovely dark blue. I heard somebody say so, ever so long ago, and I +never knew it to fail." + +"I don't believe in signs," remarked Polly vindictively, with her +mouth full of daisy stems. "It's all just as it happens, only some +people have a sign for everything. For my part, I'll wait till I +see the rain coming, before I believe in it." + +"That's Polly all over," said Alan. "She won't take anything on +trust; she has to see it first." + +"How did the reading come on to-day?" inquired Mrs. Adams, leaning +back in her seat, and letting Job ramble from side to side of the +road, at his will. + +"Not very well," said Florence, seeing that none of the others +started to reply. + +"I hope I didn't break it up," Mrs. Adams answered, as she took +out the whip, to brush a fly from Job's plump side. + +Alan giggled. + +"You needn't be afraid, Mrs. Adams; the girls are glad to get off +on any terms." + +"I'll tell you how 'tis, Mrs. Adams," said Jean, coming to the +rescue, rather to Polly's relief. "You see, it's such warm +weather, and the book wasn't real interesting, so we decided to +let it go till by and by. Do you think we're very dreadful?" And +she laughed up into Mrs. Adams's face, with perfect confidence in +her approval. + +Mrs. Adams laughed too. + +"I didn't really think you would carry out your plan for very +long," she said. "Polly takes Aunt Jane's words too seriously. In +old times, everybody read 'Pilgrim's Progress,' but it's going out +of fashion now, and--Whoa, Job! What are you doing?" she +exclaimed, as the carriage tilted to one side so unexpectedly that +Florence and Molly screamed a little. + +Job, grieved at finding himself ignored and left out of the +conversation, had apparently determined to amuse himself in his +own way. He had meandered back and forth across the road, as was +shown by the serpentine character of his tracks; now, catching +sight of a tempting stalk of mullein by the fence, he had walked +across the gutter and was just stretching his head forward to +seize the coveted morsel, when Mrs. Adams interrupted him. Her +first impulse was to draw him back, but kinder feelings prevailed, +and she bent forward to give him the full length of the lines, +saying indulgently,-- + +"The mischief is done already, Job, so you may as well have your +lunch, for you can't tip us up any farther." And she sat there +quite patiently, in spite of her strained position, until Job had +devoured the mullein in a leisurely fashion. Then she reined him +back into the road, remarking, "It isn't fair for poor Job to do +all the work and not have any of the fun, is it?" + +"I'll tell you, Mrs. Adams," suggested Alan; "let's all get out +and put Job into the carriage, and draw him a mile or two, just to +rest him." + +"You shan't make fun of Job!" said Polly indignantly. "You didn't +like what Jean said to you, and now you go and say, Job is o-l-d +and s-l-o-w." + +"What in the world do you spell the words for, Poll?" asked Jean. +"I never have been able to make out." + +"Why, Job knows what you are saying, as well as anybody, and may +be he is sensitive about it," replied Polly, to the great +amusement of the girls. + +"We might read 'Pilgrim's Progress' to him, then," said Jean +wickedly. "Perhaps it would teach him to go ahead, if he knows so +much." + +"Poor old Job! his going days are nearly over, aren't they, Joby?" +said Mrs. Adams caressingly, as she rubbed the whip up and down +over his glossy side. "Well, he's a poor, tired old fellow with a +heavy load, so perhaps we'd better turn here and go home." + +This proceeding met with Job's full approval. He had been walking +more and more slowly, as if overcome by the effort which he had +been forced to make, and seemed scarcely able to totter onward, +stumbling at every stone. But with the change of direction, his +life came back to him, and with a whisk of his tail and an +ungainly flourish of his hind legs, he started off at a trot, +turning neither to the right nor the left, but only intent on +reaching home and supper. + +"There!" said Mrs. Adams in a tone of disgust; "when Job does that +I just want to whip him. He has played that trick on me over and +over again, and still I am always deceived by it. It isn't more +than two weeks since Polly and I were driving to the Glen, one +very warm day. It was a strange road, and all at once Job was +taken ill in such a queer way; he staggered and almost fell. Polly +and I were so frightened, for we thought he was going to die, +right then and there. We jumped out and walked along beside him, +leading him and petting him. The road was so narrow that we +couldn't turn him around, without going on ever so far; nobody was +in sight, and we were both of us just ready to cry from sheer +nervousness. At last we came to where we could turn him, and +backed him around as carefully as could be. What did the old goose +do but put down his head and give it the funniest sideways toss, +and then trot off towards home, leaving us standing there in the +road." + +"What did you do? did you walk home?" asked Alan, while the girls +laughed. + +"No, indeed! We made him stop for us, and he had to trot the rest +of the way, you may be sure. Go on, Job!" urged Mrs. Adams, +shaking the lines violently. + +But Job settled that matter by whisking his tail over the lines +and holding them firmly, in spite of the attempts his mistress +made to free them once more. Finding her labors of no avail, she +turned her attention to the girls again. + +"What if you take another plan for your reading?" she asked, +pulling off one of her long gloves and turning slightly, as she +rested her elbow on the back of the seat. "If you care to come to +our house one or two mornings a week, through the rest of the +vacation, and read aloud with me some good book,--I don't mean +goody,--I should be delighted to have you. You could do the +reading and amuse me while I sew." + +"That's elegant!" exclaimed Jean rapturously. "What shall we read, +girls?" + +"But are you sure that you want us?" asked Florence doubtfully, +for her mother was not particularly hospitable to the members of +the V, and it seemed impossible to her that Mrs. Adams could be in +earnest in her proposition. + +"Indeed I do," responded Mrs. Adams heartily. "I can take that +time for darning the doctor's stockings, and Polly's too, for that +matter, for her toes are always coming through. I don't like to do +it, but I shall be so well entertained that I probably shan't mind +it at all." + +"See here," said the practical Jean; "let's all bring our +stockings to darn. There can't but one of us read at a time, and I +just hate to do nothing but sit and twirl my thumbs." + +"But I don't know how to darn stockings," said Florence +helplessly. + +"Time you did, then," said Jean. "If you had as many small +brothers as I do, you'd have plenty of practice. Besides, I think +any girl as old as we are ought to know how to mend her own +stockings, whether she's rich or poor." + +"So do I, Jean," said Mrs. Adams approvingly; "and yet I am +ashamed to say that I have never taught Polly. But I think I'll +add your plan to mine, and tell the girls to bring their darning- +bags with them; and I will give you all lessons in a duty and +necessity that can be made almost a fine art." + +"I hate to sew," said Molly disconsolately. + +"So do I," responded Jean calmly, "but I have to just the same; +and that's the reason I thought I'd like to take the time when we +read to do some of the worst things." + +"I say," remarked Alan meditatively, as he plunged his hands into +his pockets, "where's my share in this coming in?" + +"Why, nowhere; you're nothing but a boy, you know," replied his +sister, with an air of conscious superiority. + +"One boy is as good as a dozen girls, though, ma'am," retorted +Alan. + +"Do you want to come too?" asked Polly. "He can, can't he, mamma?" + +"I don't know as I want to, all the time," said Alan. "I'd like it +when I can't do anything else; but when the boys are round, I'd +rather be with them, of course." + +"That settles it," said Polly, leaning forward to tickle his ear +with a long-stemmed daisy. "Take us or leave us; but we don't want +any half-way friends that like us when they can't get anything any +better." + +"Don't you mind her, Alan," said Mrs. Adams. "You can come, if you +want to, and I'll protect you myself." + +"If you come, though," added Polly, determined to have the last +word, "you'll have to bring some stockings to darn. We shan't let +in any lazy people." + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +MISS BEAN COMES TO LUNCH. + + +"Oh, dear me, Jean!" sighed Polly. "I do believe there's Miss +Deborah Bean coming down the street." + +"What of her?" inquired Jean indifferently. + +"Why, if 'tis, she's coming here to lunch. She says all the +hateful things she can think of; and you don't know how queer she +is. I can't help laughing at her; and that makes mamma cross, for +she wants me to be polite to her, because she's old as Methuselah +and poor as Job's turkey." + +"I didn't suppose your mother was ever cross," said Jean. + +"Oh, she isn't cross, exactly; but sometimes she doesn't like +things as well as others." + +"Most people don't," remarked Jean sagely. + +Miss Bean's present home was in the poorhouse, from which place of +retreat she made expeditions into the town, at intervals, to visit +her old acquaintances, and among them was Mrs. Adams, for whose +mother she had sewed, during her younger, stronger days. On these +great occasions, she was wont to cast aside the plain gown which +she ordinarily wore, and bring out to the light of day the one +that had for years served as her best when she went into the +institution. Accordingly, it was a strange figure that turned in +at the doctor's gate, and came to a halt before the two girls who +were sitting on the grass under one of the tall elms on the lawn. +Her gown was of some black woollen stuff, figured with green, and +its short, full skirt fell in voluminous folds over her large +hoops. A white muslin cape covered her shoulders; and her head was +adorned with a yellow straw shaker bonnet, in the depths of which +her wrinkled face, with its pointed chin and bright eyes, looked +like the face of some mammoth specimen of the cat tribe, an effect +that was increased by her high, shrill voice. Black lace mitts +covered her hands; and she carried, point upward, a venerable +brown umbrella, loosely rolled up, and held in place with two +rubber bands. + +"Is your ma at home?" she asked Polly abruptly. + +"She's in the house," answered Polly, rising with some reluctance. +"I'll go and call her. You stay here, Jean." + +"Jean who?" inquired Miss Bean, bringing her spectacles to bear on +Jean's blooming face. + +"Jean Dwight, ma'am," said Jean demurely, in spite of a strong +desire to laugh. + +"Bill Dwight's daughter?" + +Jean nodded, while her color rose at the rough abbreviation of her +father's name. + +"I want to know! He was a son of old Enos Dwight and Melissy +Pettigrew; and I can remember the time, and not so very long ago, +either, when the Adamses wouldn't have had anything to do with +such folks," remarked Miss Bean, who Avas not only a firm believer +in the aristocracy of the old town, but regarded it as her right +to utter all the disagreeable truths that came into her brain. + +To-day she had spoken rashly, for Polly, angry at the insult to +her friend, faced her with blazing eyes, while every little curl +on her head was dancing with indignation. + +"It doesn't make any difference what you think about it, Miss +Bean. My mother has charge of me, not you; and she's glad to have +Jean come here." + +"Dear sakes! Red hair does show in the temper," sighed Miss Bean, +unconsciously touching another sore spot, for Polly's hair was one +of her trials. + +"I'd rather have red hair and a temper, than meddle with what +doesn't--" Polly was beginning hotly; but remembering that the old +woman, though uninvited, was yet a guest, she added hastily, "Come +into the house." + +When she came out under the trees again, she found Jean still +sitting on the grass, with a little suspicious moisture around her +eyes. Polly dropped down by her side, and impulsively pulling +Jean's head over into her lap, she bent down and kissed her. + +"It's a shame, Jean!" said she. "Don't you mind a word the old +thing says. I don't care anything about your grandpa and grandma; +they might have been brought up in jail, for all I care. It's you +that I like. She's a horrid old woman." + +"I don't mean to care," said Jean disconsolately; "but some people +always have to tell me I'm a nobody." + +"No, you aren't, you're somebody," contradicted Polly. "And as +long as you're splendid yourself, I don't see what difference it +makes whether you have forty cents or forty million dollars, and +whether you carpenter for a living or doctor for it,--or beg for +it, the way she does." + +They were silent for a minute, and then Polly added, with a +laugh,-- + +"There's one thing about it, we'll have some fun out of her, for +she's going to stay to lunch, and she's so funny at the table. She +minces so, and she never refuses anything to eat without telling +just why she doesn't like it. One time, mamma offered her some +pie, and she said, 'Oh, my, no! I never eat it. Pie-crust is +grease packed in flour.' I'm so glad you are here to-day." + +When the girls went into the house at lunch time, Miss Bean was in +the midst of a stream of gossip. Her usual surroundings gave rise +to no more varied subjects than the personal appearance of her +companions, and the routine of the housework, in which they all +had a share. Doubtless it was partly for this reason that the +worthy woman made the most of her brief outings, to gather up any +bits of information which might serve to enliven the days to come, +and render her an object of admiration in the community where she +was passing her time. In spite of Aunt Jane's frowns, and the +efforts of Mrs. Adams to turn the conversation, she was running on +and on, helped by an occasional word from the doctor, who derived +much amusement from the old woman's visits. As Polly and Jean +seated themselves across the table from her, she glanced up to eye +them with little favor, and then went on,-- + +"As I was saying, I stopped in to Miss Hapgood's on my way up, and +she'd just got a letter from Kate. You remember Kate Harvey, her +sister that married Henry Shepard and went out to Omaha to live, +don't you? He's made a lot of money, but people always said he was +a miserable sort of fellow." + +"Let the doctor give you some of the oysters, Miss Bean," +interrupted Mrs. Adams desperately. "No, I don't eat oysters now; +there's no R in August," replied Miss Bean frankly. + +"Unless you spell it O-r-gust," whispered Jean, in an aside which +made Polly choke over her glass of water. + +"Well," resumed Miss Bean tranquilly, "Kate's got two daughters of +her own, about Molly's age, and she wants 'em to come there and +board, and go to school at Miss Webster's. I don't know's I +wonder, for I don't suppose there's any schools in them little +western towns; but Mis' Hapgood's all upset about it. I told her +she'd better take 'em, and charge a good, round price for 'em; but +she says she hasn't much room, and then she don't know how they'd +get along with Molly." + +"Do you think they'll come?" inquired Polly eagerly. + +"I don't know," answered Miss Bean coldly. "Mis' Hapgood hasn't +made up her mind. She sets great store by Kate, being her only +sister," she went on, turning back to the doctor; "and so I +shouldn't much wonder if she took 'em, after all. They say his +father shot himself, and--" + +"Have some of these preserved plums, Miss Bean," said Mrs. Adams, +lifting the spoon persuasively. + +"No, thank you. Preserves isn't very hulsome, and I don't go much +on them, excepting pie-plant and molasses," answered Miss Bean, as +she poured out her coffee into her saucer. + +At this somewhat unexpected response, Jean pinched Polly's hand +under the table, and they both giggled. + +"Some folks," continued Miss Bean reflectively, "say it's a coward +that commits suicide; but, my soul and body! I think it's just the +other way; I never should get up spunk enough." Then, with an +abrupt change of subject, she added: "Speaking of folks dying, I +see Mr. Solomon Baxter as I was coming along. He's aged a good +deal since his wife died, and no wonder, poor man! with all his +six children to look out for. He shook hands with me, and he +seemed so all cut up when I told him how lonesome he looked, that +I says to him: 'Mr. Baxter, why don't you get married again? +There's lots of good women left, as many as there ever was. Why +don't you take Miss Roberts, now? She'd manage your children for +you, I'll warrant.'" + +This was too much for the doctor and the girls, and they burst out +laughing, while Aunt Jane remarked stiffly,-- + +"Thank you, Miss Bean; but I have no present desire to be +married." + +"Well, I didn't know but what you might think 'twas a case of +duty," responded Miss Bean grimly. + +As soon as the meal was over, Polly and Jean adjourned to the lawn +again, and sat down to discuss the situation, for they were both +much excited over the possible coming of Molly's cousins. + +"I saw some pictures of them, once," said Polly, as she settled +herself in the hammock. "They were pretty, and they were just +elegantly dressed, with piles of lace and things, and gold chains +round their necks." + +"Miss Bean said they had lots of money," said Jean thoughtfully. + +"Yes," answered Polly; "and they looked as if they had it all on.. +Mamma says 'tisn't a good idea for young girls to wear jewelry, +and she won't let me have any at all, but just these." As she +spoke, Polly touched the string of gold beads that lay closely +about her throat. They had been her great-grandmother's beads, and +Polly had received them for her name. + +"I shouldn't wonder if they did that more out West," said Jean. +"How old are they, Polly?" + +"One is older than Molly," answered Polly "and the other is about +Alan's age. Molly hasn't ever seen them, for they've always lived +out there I hope they won't come, though," she added emphatically. + +"Why not?" inquired Jean. "If they're nice I think it would be fun +to have them here." + +"I don't," said Polly. "There are just enough of us, as it is; and +if they were here, we shouldn't get any good of Molly." + +"It won't make any difference, if they don't go to the same school +with us. And besides, you said this morning that you couldn't bear +Molly," said Jean a little maliciously. + +"You know I never meant any such thing, Jean," said Polly +impatiently. "I like Molly Hapgood better than any other girl in +this town, and you know that just as well as I do." + +"What about me?" inquired Jean, laughing, for she was accustomed +to Polly's moods, and was by no means angry at the alarming +frankness of her reply, as she said tragically,-- + +"I like you ever so much, Jean; but, honestly, I like Molly +better, when she's nice, for we've always been together; and I +don't want these dreadful girls to come in between us." + +"I don't believe they will, any more than Florence and I do," said +Jean soothingly. + +At the mention of Florence's name, Polly straightened up, and +looked right into Jean's eyes. + +"Jean Dwight," said she, "if you'll never, never tell, I am going +to say something to you that I never told anybody before." + +"What is it?" asked Jean curiously. + +"You promise not to tell?" + +"Why, of course, if you don't want me to." + +"Well," said Polly, in a whisper, "I think Florence is a perfect +little flat. There! I suppose mamma would say I was as bad as Miss +Bean, with all her gossip, but I can't help it, it's true. But +don't let's talk about it any more, it makes me so cross. Perhaps +they won't come, anyway." + +"Here comes Alan," said Jean, glancing up as the boy turned in at +the gate; "maybe he can tell us something about them." In fact, +the lad had come to see Polly for no other purpose than to talk +the matter over with her, for Polly was his truest friend in the +V, and the two children exchanged confidences with the same simple +good-fellowship they might have shown, had they both been girls. +Polly never snubbed Alan because he was younger, as Molly did, but +invariably stood as his champion when the other girls scolded him, +and tried to send him away; and Alan, on his side, never rubbed +Polly the wrong way, but respected her quick temper. Of course he +teased her, as every natural boy teases the girls with whom he is +thrown; but it was a gay, good-natured sort of teasing that never +irritated Polly in the least. During his long, rheumatic fever of +the winter before, she had been a most devoted friend, dropping in +to see him at all sorts of odd hours, to amuse him with her merry +nonsense, and had greatly disgusted the girls by frankly +announcing her preference for his society over their own. And Alan +returned the compliment with interest, declaring that he would +"rather have Poll in one of her tantrums than the rest of them +with all their best manners." + +He came deliberately across the lawn, with his black and white +striped cap cocked on the very back of his head, and his hands in +the side pockets of his gray coat, and calmly disregarding the +curiosity of the girls, he made no attempt to speak until he had +comfortably settled himself on the grass at their feet. + +"Well," he inquired at length, after he had arranged himself to +his liking, with his hands clasped under his yellow head; "what is +it you want to know?" + +"Everything," demanded Polly, comprehensively. + +"All right," he answered, lazily shutting his eyes. "The earth is +the planet on which we live, and is about twenty-five thousand +miles round; a decimal fraction is one whose denominator is ten, +one hundred, one thousand, or and so forth; America was discovered +in--" + +"Oh, Alan, do be sensible if you can," said Jean. "We know all +that stuff. What we want is to hear about these cousins of yours +that are coming." + +"How did you know anything about them?" asked the boy, in +surprise. + +"Miss Bean is here," answered Polly. "She went to see your mother +on the way, and heard about it." "Oh." + +There was a world of disgust in Alan's tone. Presently he went +on,-- + +"Well, everybody will have to hear of it now. I came over to tell +you, Poll, but it seems that old woman is in ahead." + +"Are they really coming, then?" asked Polly anxiously. + +"Hope not," said Alan, rolling over on his face and pulling up a +handful of grass; "girls enough round already." + +"That's not polite," returned Polly; "but go on." + +"There isn't any on," said Alan. "All there is about it is that +they want to come, and I'm afraid mother is going to let them. +Molly likes it, but I don't want them round in the way. I know +they'll be prim and fussy, without any fun in them. I believe I'll +come over here and live." + +"Come on," said Polly hospitably; then she proceeded in a moral +tone, "But, Alan, you ought not to talk so about them, for they're +your cousins, and you ought to like your relations, you know." + +"Do you like Aunt Jane?" inquired Alan, suddenly rolling over to +face her once more. + +But Polly was spared the necessity of making any reply, by a +sudden voice behind her. + +"And so this is your garden, Mrs. Adams! It's a likely place for +petunias and sweet williams, but I don't think much of those new- +fangled things," pointing to a brilliant bed of dwarf nasturtiums +near by. Then she went on in a sing-song tone,-- + + "'So I've come out to view the land + Where I must shortly lie.'" + +"Needn't think I expect to lie in your garden, though," she hastily +added, evidently fearful of being misunderstood. + +"Hush, Alan! you must not laugh at her," said Polly, stifling her +own merriment as best she could. + +But Miss Bean, absorbed in her eloquence, had passed on out of +hearing, and Jean returned to the charge. + +"Come, Alan, there's a dear boy," she began persuasively, "tell us +about the girls." + +"I don't know much about them," answered Alan. "Katharine is the +older one, about fifteen, and Jessie is just my age. Her birthday +is the third and mine the seventh. I suppose they're well enough, +but their pictures look a little toploftical, and I'm not over +fond of that kind. They are going to bring their pony, if they +come, and that will be fun, if mother will only let me ride him." + +"You'll get your neck broken," predicted Polly. "Do you remember +the day we tried to ride Job, and he lay down and rolled us off?" + +"That was your fault," returned Alan; "if you hadn't gripped his +mane so, he'd have been all right. Well," he added, sitting up and +stretching himself, "mother sent me to the market, and I s'pose I +must go, but I thought I'd just stop in a minute." + +"Oh, dear! how I wish I had a brother!" sighed Polly, watching his +boyish figure, as he sauntered away across the grass. + +"Yes," said Jean slowly, as she thought of the four little +brothers at home, "it is nice, but it has its drawbacks, Polly. +When they all want to do the same thing at the same time, and +can't wait a minute, why, then it doesn't seem quite so +agreeable." + +In the warm twilight, Mrs. Adams and Polly sat on the broad +piazza. Miss Bean had taken her departure, long before, and Jean +had gone home to help her mother get supper and put the younger +children to bed. The birds were twittering their last sleepy good +nights, and two or three little stars were faintly showing in the +blue sky above the dark mountain, while scores of tiny fireflies +were dotting the air below. + +"There, Jerusalem!" Polly was saying triumphantly, as she perched +herself on the broad arm of her mother's piazza chair; "now +everybody is out of the way, and I can have you all to myself." + +"What is it to-night?" inquired Mrs. Adams, laughing, as she +pulled her light shawl over her shoulders to keep out the evening +air. + +"Lots of things, mamma," answered Polly, with a sudden +thoughtfulness; "there's been a good deal to-day." + +"About Molly's cousins, for instance?" asked Mrs. Adams. + +"Yes," replied Polly; "I don't think we want them, mamma. I know +they won't fit in a bit. And Alan says he doesn't want them." + +"That's not quite fair of Alan," said her mother: "he oughtn't to +say so without knowing anything more about them. But, Polly, you +may find them pleasant friends, and like them better than you do +Molly." + +Polly shook her head with decision. + +"I'm sure I shan't. But I'm afraid Molly will like them better +than she does us." + +"Jealous, Polly?" And there was a tone of regret in her mother's +voice as she went on: "I am a little disappointed in my daughter. +Of course, Polly, Molly will be thrown with them a great deal, +much more than with you; and, so long as they are her cousins, she +will probably be fond of them. But, after all these years, can't +you trust Molly's friendship enough to believe that it won't make +any difference in her feeling to you, but that she can love and +care for you all, at the same time?" + +"Sometimes I think she can, and sometimes I think she can't,'" +said Polly slowly. "Once in a while, when we have had a 'scrap,' +as Alan calls it, I think she doesn't care a bit about me." + +"Whose fault is it, when you quarrel?" asked Mrs. Adams, smoothing +the short curls. "I don't think it is all Molly's fault, any more +than it is all yours. If my small daughter wants her friends to +care for her, she must govern that temper and study self-control." + +"I know that, mamma," broke in Polly impetuously; "but you don't +have any idea how hard 'tis, nor how sorry I am after it is over." + +"It is just because I do know it so well, my dear, that I keep +saying this to you; for I hope I can save you from a part, at +least, of the pain I have suffered in just this same way. I have +been through it all, Polly, and I know that every time you give up +to your temper, it is just so much easier to do it again; and if +you were to go on long enough, in time you would get to where it +would be impossible to stop yourself, and you would do something +that might be a sorrow to you, through all your life. It is just +so with every habit; the more you give way to it, the more it +becomes a part of your nature. That is the reason I am trying to +help you form the habit of a quiet, even temper. And now," added +Mrs. Adams, changing the subject, "what else was there that we +wanted to talk over?" + +"'Twas Jean," said Polly, as she slipped down on the floor at her +mother's feet. "Miss Bean was twitting her to-day because she +wasn't rich." And Polly repeated the little conversation which had +taken place under the trees. + +Mrs. Adams listened thoughtfully. When Polly had finished, she +said decidedly,-- + +"That was rather uncalled for, I think, Polly. Whatever Jean's +parents may be, they are really refined people, and Jean is at +heart a lady." + +"What difference does it make, anyway?" asked Polly impatiently. + +"Not so much as most people think," said Mrs. Adams. "If your +parents are cultivated people, it helps you to make something of +yourself; and whatever teaching you get from them is so much stock +in trade, just as money would be, if you were starting in +business. If, when you have this start, you don't make the most of +it, it shows that you are unworthy of it; and if you become a +grand woman without it, then you deserve ever so much more credit +than the people who have had everything in their favor. Do you +understand me, Polly?" + +"Yes, I think I do," said Polly. "And it doesn't make any +difference whether we are rich or poor, does it?" + +Her mother paused for a moment, as if the question were a hard one +to answer. Polly had a way of asking deeper questions than she +realized. Mrs. Adams rocked back and forth in silence two or three +times; then she said,-- + +"Yes and no, Polly. Money in itself doesn't make the least bit of +difference; but people that have it can make more of themselves,-- +I don't say that they do, remember. If Jean didn't have to wash so +many dishes nor mend so many stockings, she could give more time +to study and reading every year. But, after all, I don't believe +she would be half so fine, unselfish a girl as she is now, when +she has to give up doing what she likes, to help her mother. It is +just the same whether it is money, or family, or a fine mind, or +beauty; the more that is given you, the more you are expected to +make of it, and the more the shame to you if you neglect it. But +we're getting into very deep subjects for so near bed-time. What +did Alan come for?" + +"Just to tell me about the girls," said Polly. "He says they're +going to have a pony, and everything." + +"How well Alan has been, all summer," remarked her mother. + +There was a sudden click of the gate-latch, and a tall figure came +up the walk. + +"Sitting here in the damp, Isabel, and catching your death of +cold! I can't afford time to sit around in the dark doing nothing, +when I think of all the good that can be done around us." And Aunt +Jane stalked past them into the house, and sat down to cut the +leaves of the last scientific magazine. + +However, though Mrs. Adams did not reply, she had made up her mind +that her usual goodnight talk with Polly was far more important +than all the clubs in the world, and no words from Aunt Jane could +induce her to give up her nightly habit. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +TWO MORE GIRLS. + + +"It does seem as if to-morrow afternoon never would come," Molly +was saying, as she and Polly stood leaning on the fence in the +early twilight. + +"What time will they get here?" Polly asked her. + +"Three o'clock, and I just feel as if I couldn't wait, when I +think how every minute is bringing them along. It's going to be +splendid to have them here. You must come over to see them the +very first thing, Polly, for I want them to know my best friend +right away." + +"I do hope they'll be nice," said Polly thoughtfully. + +"Nice!" echoed Molly. "Of course they are. I'll tell you what, +Polly, Alan has been running them down to you. He is so queer +about it; I should think he'd like to have them come. They're just +as pretty as they can be, and boys always like pretty girls." + +"Oh, dear," sighed Polly; "how nice it would be to be pretty!" + +"Why, you aren't so bad, Polly." And Molly surveyed her with frank +criticism. "If only your nose wasn't quite so puggy, and you +didn't have quite so many freckles, you'd be real good-looking. +Besides, Alan says he likes your looks better than he does +Florence's." + +"Does he?" And Polly flushed with pleasure. + +"Yes, he told mamma so the other day; you know boys have queer +tastes," answered Molly flatteringly. + +"But I wish I did know of something to take off freckles and tan," +said Polly, rubbing her cheeks with a vicious force. "Aunt Jane +wants me to wear a veil and keep white; but I'd rather be black +and speckled all over, than make a mummy of myself. I think fresh +air and sunshine were made to be enjoyed, and not to be peeked out +at through a rag." + +"It must be horrid to freckle," said Molly sympathetically. "Did +you ever try anything for it, Poll?" + +"No, only lemon juice once, and it all ran into my eyes and made +them smart; but it didn't touch the freckles any." + +"They say buttermilk is good," suggested Molly. "Why not try +that?" + +"That's a good idea," said Polly. "We have some, and I don't +believe it would hurt. How do you use it, Molly? I'll do it to- +night, and then I could start white with your cousins, anyway; and +so much depends on first impressions, you know." + +"I'm not just sure about it," answered Molly; "but I think they +put it on over night, and rub it in well. You'd better not do it, +if you are afraid it can do any harm." + +"Oh, it can't," said Polly, with assurance; "and even if it does, +anything is better than looking like a fright." + +"But you aren't a fright," said Molly loyally; then added, "What +does keep Alan so? His errand wasn't going to take two minutes, +and your mother will be tired of him." + +"No, she won't," said Polly; "she likes Alan. Don't be in a hurry, +Molly; this is the last chance we shall have to talk for a year." + +In spite of herself, Polly's voice failed a little on the last +words. She loved her friend dearly, and the coming of the cousins, +with the probability of its causing a separation between them, had +been her first real sorrow. For Molly's sake she tried to be eager +and interested about them, but when she was alone with Jean or +Alan, she was disconsolate enough over the prospect. The three or +four weeks had flown past, every day bringing the change nearer, +and the last evening had come. Arm in arm, the two girls had been +pacing up and down the walk, while they waited for Alan, and that +half-hour had made Polly realize more than ever how fond she was +of this companion with whom she had spent so many contented hours. +The memory of their frequent quarrels seemed to sink away into the +past, and only the thought of their good times was before them +then. But Alan's whistle was heard, as he came out of the house; +and he and Molly went away down the street, leaving Polly standing +alone at the gate. She looked after them until they disappeared in +the gathering darkness; then her curly head dropped on her folded +arms, and she began to sob with all the fervor of her impetuous, +affectionate nature. It was over in a minute or two, and no one +was the wiser for it but the birds in the tall elm trees above her +head. Then she turned forlornly, and started to walk to the house; +but, with Polly, the reaction always came quickly, and by the time +she reached the steps, she was humming the air which Alan had just +whistled, as she planned about the gown she would wear when she +went to see the cousins, and pictured to herself the details of +their first meeting. It was all so like Polly, to be in the depths +of grief at one moment, and to be singing the next. Her sorrows +were just as sincere as Molly's, while they lasted, but the very +intensity of them made it impossible for them to continue long at +a time. Polly's life was one of superlatives: when she was happy, +she was radiant; when she was unhappy, she was miserable. There +was no middle ground for her. + +But to-night Polly was bent on beautifying herself. For Molly's +sake, as well as for her own, she was anxious to make a good +appearance in the eyes of the two girls whom she was to meet on +the morrow. The last thing before she went to her room, she +secretly visited the kitchen and helped herself to a generous bowl +of buttermilk, which she carried up stairs. She set it down on the +table and, lamp in hand, went to the mirror. In the main, Polly +was not a conceited girl, nor a vain one. On the contrary, she +thought little about her personal appearance, except to give an +occasional sigh over her hair and freckles. But, just now, it +seemed to her that beauty was the one thing to be desired, and +holding up the lamp, she gazed at herself steadily, unconscious of +the picture she made, with the light falling full upon her bright +hair and eager young face. Then she set down the lamp with a +suddenness which threatened to shatter it. + +"Oh, you fright!" she said to herself, in a tone of disgusted +sincerity. + +She turned away and took up the bowl from the table, sniffed at it +daintily, and wrinkled her nose in disgust. The strong, sour odor +of the buttermilk was not pleasant, certainly, but what mattered +that, if it removed the obnoxious freckles? She shut her teeth, +held her breath, and resolutely applied it to her face, putting it +on freely, and rubbing it in until her arms ached and her cheeks +burned under their unwonted treatment. The next morning she +repeated the operation with even greater zeal, and ended by a +vigorous application of soap and water, and a rough towel. Then +she drew near the glass once more, to see and admire her soft, +white skin, where no freckle would be found. As she gazed, her +eyes grew round with wonder, and she stood as if transfixed at the +sight before her. To say the least, it was striking. The freckles +had not disappeared, but still the buttermilk had done its work, +and Polly's face presented every appearance of having been +varnished, for, thanks to the polishing which it had undergone, it +shone like a new copper tea-kettle. For an instant, tears of +mortification stood in the gray eyes; then Polly's sense of the +ridiculous had its way, and, dropping into a chair, she laughed +till her cheeks were crimson under their metallic surface, and her +lashes were damp with hysterical tears. + +"What in the world are you laughing at, Polly?" asked Aunt Jane's +voice at her door. "The breakfast bell has rung, and it's time you +were down-stairs." + +"Yes'm," replied Polly, suddenly becoming sober again, as she +remembered that she must present herself to the family in this +plight, and would probably be well laughed at for her pains. + +She delayed in her room as long as she dared, but her mother had +always insisted on perfect regularity at meal times, and Polly +knew that she must appear. With one last, despairing glance at the +mirror, a glance which was by no means reassuring, she turned away +and silently went down the stairs and into the dining-room, hoping +to take her place at the table so quietly that she could escape +notice. It was not her mother whom she dreaded, but she shrank +from her father's teasing and Aunt Jane's merciless comments. As +she drew her chair up to the table, Aunt Jane glanced up from her +oatmeal. + +"Late again, Polly! Why, what have you been putting on your face, +child?" + +Polly's cheeks grew scarlet, but she answered, with an attempt at +carelessness,-- + +"Oh, nothing but a little buttermilk. Why?" + +"Why?" responded Aunt Jane, with needless emphasis, "I should +think you'd better ask why! Have you looked in the glass this +morning?" + +"Yes," answered Polly faintly, for they were all staring at her, +and she saw a mischievous twinkle come into her father's blue +eyes. + +"Well, I'd like to know what fresh piece of nonsense this is," +Aunt Jane was beginning severely, when the doctor interposed,-- + +"Wait a minute, Jane; don't be in such a hurry to scold. Come, +Polly, tell us what you have been doing to make yourself look like +a South Sea Islander or a Pawnee?" + +Polly dropped her eyes and played with her fork for a minute; but +sulkiness was not in her nature, and after a pause, she confessed. + +"Molly said buttermilk was good for freckles, so I put some on +mine, but they didn't come off. You see," she added, turning to +her mother with the certainty that she would find sympathy in that +quarter, if in no other, "the Shepard girls are coming to-day, and +Molly wanted me to go over to see them right away, and I wanted to +look as well as I can." + +Polly was interrupted by a hearty laugh from the doctor, who laid +down his knife and fork and leaned back in his chair, to enjoy his +merriment to the utmost. + +"I think there's no doubt of their being struck by your looks, +Polly," he said at length. Then, as he saw her bite her lips to +steady them, he added kindly, "Shall I tell my little girl what I +really think about it? I don't consider the freckles themselves +beautiful; but I would rather see her with enough of them to prove +that she lives out of doors in the sunshine, as every healthy +child should, than be one of the little, pale-faced beauties +brought up in the house, or under veils and broad hats. If I can't +have but one, I want my Polly to have health rather than beauty, +for health is beauty, especially in children." + +"Better have a freckled face than a freckled soul," added Aunt +Jane, feeling that here was the opportunity to make a fine moral +point. + +"There's more connection there than you think, Jane," responded +Dr. Adams quickly. "A child is much more likely to have an +unfreckled, unspotted soul, when her body has the health which +comes with plenty of exposure to the air and sun. Show me a +healthy child, and a small amount of care will make her a good +one; I'm not so sure of the sickly ones. It's my opinion that more +can be made of a healthy sinner than a feeble saint. Isn't it so, +Poll?" And he leaned over to pass his broad hand caressingly down +the shining face, as he added gaily, "There's one good thing about +it, my dear; we shan't have to waste any gas to-night. The light +of your countenance will be quite enough." + +They were still sitting lingering over their meal, when Alan came +in to bring a note from Molly. At sight of Polly, he started back +in mock dismay, exclaiming,-- + +"Great Scott, Polly! What's the matter?" + +"Don't tell Molly, Alan," she begged; "but I tried to get rid of +my freckles, that's all." + +Alan gave a low, expressive whistle. + +"I'm glad it's nothing worse. We had a girl once, that told Molly +if she let the moon shine on her while she was asleep, she'd all +swell up and turn black, and I didn't know but you were beginning +to do that." + +"I thought you had given up slang, Alan," remarked Mrs. Adams, as +she motioned him to a chair beside her. + +"So I have, mostly. Mother didn't want me to use much, and I +couldn't get along without any; so we split the difference and +agreed that I could have one. I chose 'great Scott,' but it +doesn't always fit the case. I say, Polly, you'll be over to- +night, won't you?" + +Polly looked doubtfully at her mother. + +"Isn't it rather soon, Alan?" Mrs. Adams asked. + +"Not a bit of it," answered the boy. "Mother will be busy with +Uncle Henry, because he'll only be here one night, and we'll have +to see to the girls. Molly can't manage them both, and I'm no use +at all, so we need Polly to help us out. Mother said you'd better +come over about five, Poll, and stay to supper." + +"I don't know whether I can get bleached in time," answered Polly, +laughing, as she followed him to the door; "but I'll come if I +can. And don't you dare tell Molly." + +"Catch me telling tales!" returned Alan, with some dignity. +"That's not in my line, Poll; and not on you, anyway." + +With an appearance of great carelessness, Polly strolled out to +the hammock soon after two o'clock that afternoon, and settled +herself, book in hand. But for the next hour, there was little +reading done, for Polly's gray eyes often wandered from the pages +before her, and fixed themselves on the distant corner around +which the Shepard family must come. It was a long hour of waiting, +and Polly had begun to think that the train must have been wrecked +by the way, when the distant, shrill whistle was heard. At the +sound, she drew herself into a more dignified position, settled +her skirts about her and fell to reading with a will. But though +her eyes went down the left-hand page and up again to the top of +the right-hand one, she could not have told so much as the title +of the book, so absorbed was she in listening for the wheels that +would pass the house. She heard them drawing near, but continued +to be lost in her reading until just as the carriage was in front +of her. Then she glanced up, as if by accident, and was filled +with confusion to see Alan leaning down from his seat on the box +and pointing at her, while two broad hats and two girl faces were +bent forward to survey her curiously. Alan waved his cap; she +answered his salute, and the carriage went swiftly on, leaving +Polly to stare at the pile of trunks strapped on behind it, with a +vague feeling that her intended effect had been a little marred by +Alan's demonstration. + +"Served me right, though!" she remarked philosophically to +herself, as she curled herself up to read in earnest, now that her +excitement was over. "I needn't have tried to pose for them; that +sort of thing doesn't suit me; I'd better leave it to Florence." + +It was with some misgiving, that Polly, two hours later, started +to take the familiar walk to the Hapgood house. Every riotous curl +was brushed until it lay close to her small head, but already the +golden ends were doing their best to break loose once more; thanks +to her mother's efforts, her burnished skin had lost a little of +its coppery lustre; and her fresh blue and white gingham gown was +as dainty and trim as loving hands could make it. But Polly, as +she looked in the glass before starting, only saw that her hair +was red, and that her freckles would insist on showing. However, +Alan's compliment came to her relief, and she dismissed the +question of her looks with a smile, as something not worth a +thought, and ran off down-stairs to say good by to her mother. + +Alan saw her coming, and started to meet her. + +"What's the matter, Alan?" she said, noticing his frown, as she +joined him. + +"Nothing but a crick in my knee," he explained cheerfully; "I +think I took cold last night, perhaps. They're up-stairs with +Molly," he added vaguely. "I'll call them down, or will you go +up?" + +"I'll wait here," said Polly, seating herself on the broad stone +step. "What are they like, Alan?" + +"Stunning beauties, both of them," responded Alan, with some +enthusiasm. "Katharine knows it, that's the worst of it. I do hate +a girl that thinks she's pretty. I'd rather they'd be homely as +Miss Bean, and not think about themselves, all the time. But I'll +go call them." And he departed, leaving Polly to meditate on his +words. + +The girls soon came down the old stairway behind her, and as Polly +shyly rose to meet them, she felt at once the truth of Alan's +description of Katharine. There was a strong family resemblance +between the sisters, both were dark, and they had the same bright, +brown eyes and smooth, dark brown hair; but Katharine was by far +the more beautiful, with her pink cheeks, small regular teeth, +full lips, and long straight nose with just a suggestion of +sauciness in the slant of its tip. It was this nose that +captivated Polly, and, indeed, Katharine was like a beautiful +picture, in figure and feature, while her rapidly changing +expressions and her brilliant health added a charm which no +picture could ever have. She seemed years older than the other +girls, and this effect was increased by the elegance of her dress +and by her quiet, settled manners, which made Polly feel very +young and shabby in her spotless gingham. Katharine shook hands +with a dignity that quite overawed Polly, who turned to look at +Jessie with a conscious feeling of relief. Jessie was a plump, +lively young woman of twelve, with less, perhaps, of her sister's +delicate beauty; but the lack was more than made good by her +perfect unconsciousness of self, and her frank, winning manner, +which led Polly to forget her formal greeting, and seize her hand, +saying impulsively,-- + +"I'm so glad you've come to live here!" + +Jessie laughed, showing a pair of deep dimples in her dark skin, +as she answered, with a cordiality equal to Polly's own,-- + +"And I'm so glad Molly has such nice friends," + +That settled the matter between them, and, arm in arm, they +strolled out to the tennis court, chatting like old friends, while +Molly and Alan followed with Katharine, who looked about her +indifferently, nodding slightly, from time to time, in answer to +some question. + +"I do think these old houses are splendid," Jessie was saying +eagerly. "I never saw one before. Out in Omaha we call a house old +that has been built twenty years." + +"Haven't you ever been East before?" asked Polly, with a feeling +of pity for any girl who had never known the delights of life in +an old New England town. + +"Never since I was a year old, so I don't remember much about it," +answered Jessie. "I think I am going to like it, though, for the +place is lovely, and Aunt Ruth is so sweet." + +"I hope you won't be homesick, I'm sure," said Polly +encouragingly. + +Jessie laughed outright at the idea. + +"Why should I be homesick?" she inquired, rather to Polly's +surprise. + +"Why, I don't know exactly, only I should think you'd be lonely +without your father and mother," she began. + +"That's what Aunt Ruth seemed to think," interrupted Jessie; "but +I shan't be, a bit. You see, mamma is off travelling with papa +ever so much of the time, and when she's at home, even, we don't +see much of her, for we are in school days, and she goes out, or +else has company 'most every evening." + +"Is that the way people do out there?" inquired Polly, with +perfect innocence. + +The others were standing near and, at the question, Alan shot a +sly glance at Molly, as Katharine answered, with an air of +patronage,-- + +"Not all people, you know; but mamma is in society, and is very +gay, so of course she can't be expected to have much time for us." + +"Oh!" said Polly, as if a new light had dawned on her. The simple +life of the old town and her own mother's devotion to her had not +taught her to know that, when the question arises between them, +home life must give place to social. + +But Molly saw they were treading on dangerous ground, so, to ward +off a possible skirmish, she suggested,-- + +"Let's have a game of tennis. You girls play, don't you?" + +It proved that they did, and Alan was sent off to get the net and +rackets, followed by Polly, who went racing after him, to help him +bring out his load. + +"Why, do girls run here?" asked Katharine, with an air of +surprise. + +"Yes, of course we do; run and play tag, and do all sorts of +dreadful things," answered Molly, with some spirit. "What do you +do, I'd like to know?" + +"Of course it's different in a city," replied her cousin sedately. +"We play tennis and skate; but we never run, all for nothing. Only +little girls do that." + +"What nonsense!" was Molly's comment. "I'd call myself a little +girl, then, if I couldn't have any fun without. I hope you don't +consider yourself a young lady--Excuse me, Katharine," she added +hastily. "I didn't mean to be rude; but you'll have to take us as +you find us, I'm afraid." + +But Alan and Polly had reappeared, and the game began, watched by +Alan, who refused all the girls' entreaties to play. + +"I can't to-night, Poll," he answered to her glance; "I'm too +stiff in the joints, but I'll act as umpire." + +By the time the game was over, they were excellent friends, even +Katharine's reserve having yielded to admiration for the playing +of these two girls, who returned her swiftest balls with the +precision born of long practice. As the bell rang for dinner, she +dropped her racket and held out a hand to each, saying, with the +winning grace she knew how to assume at her pleasure,-- + +"I never saw better players in my life. We shall have to try a +series of match games this fall, West against the East." + +"They do play pretty well, don't they?" inquired Alan from the +rear, with a tone of conscious pride. "I've coached them both, and +they can play every bit as well as I can." + +"That's modesty," said Polly, laughing. "Alan wouldn't play, just +because he was afraid you'd beat him. We play five here, quite +often." + +"How do you arrange it?" asked Katharine. + +"Put in an extra one on the weak side," answered Polly, stooping +to pick up a ball she had dropped. "It isn't quite as much fun, +but there are just five of us, and it gives us all a chance," she +added, as they entered the dining-room and she took her place +between Alan and Jessie. + +"How do you like it, Kit?" asked Jessie, when they were in their +room that night. + +"Like what?" inquired Katharine, with a sleepy yawn. + +"Oh, auntie and Molly and all?" + +"Auntie is rather nice, only she is a little bit countrified," +returned Katharine critically; "and Molly is well enough; but what +a funny little thing that Polly Adams is! She acts more like a +boy, the way she goes rushing around with Alan." + +"I like her, though," said Jessie. + +"She isn't so bad," answered Katharine thoughtfully; "she's a +good-hearted little thing, even if she isn't like the Omaha girls. +I do like Alan, though, Jessie; don't you? He is a splendid- +looking fellow, and has ever so much fun in him. He seems ever so +much older than he really is." + +"Perhaps it's because he has been sick a good deal," suggested +Jessie. + +"It may be that is it," assented Katharine, pulling off the silver +bangles that clanked like a criminal's fetters at every motion of +her hand; "but he doesn't look as if he'd been ill a day in his +life. I'm so glad there's a boy in the family; for they always +keep things going. I wonder what our school will be like." + +The two girls speculated on the future until they heard Alan, in +the next room, kick off his shoes and let them drop, with a thud, +on the floor. Then, tired with their journey, they fell asleep. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +POLLY ENCOUNTERS THE SERVANT QUESTION. + + +As time went on, Polly's first impression of the sisters was +unchanged. In fact, the girls all agreed in pronouncing Jessie "a +dear," and she was at once made to feel at home with the V, which +hospitably extended its arms to take her in. But with Katharine it +was a different matter. Critical of others, and constantly +studying the effect of all that she herself said or did, she was +rather a damper on the good times of the girls. Fortunately, she +usually scorned them as children, and spent much of her time with +her mates in the fashionable boarding-school at which she and her +sister were day pupils. And yet, she was not to blame for this +artificial side of her nature. At heart she was as true and sweet +a girl as Molly herself; but, bred up in the atmosphere of her +western city home where there was but one end in view, to struggle +up to the top of the social scale, if need be, over the bodies of +one's dearest friends, what wonder was it that her growth towards +womanhood was cramped by being forced out of its natural beauty +into the artificial lines of fashionable society. But it was not +yet too late to undo the harm, for a generous, warm heart lay +under her affected indifference and ambition; and her parents had +been wiser than they realized, when they sent their daughters East +to be educated, and left them in the care of the motherly woman +whose social position was too assured to have her feel the need +for striving, and who, like Mrs. Adams, believed that a woman's +highest life lay in her home and children, and that society was +incidental, rather than the main end in view. + +There were times, and they were by no means rare, when Katharine's +native sweetness showed itself, and then the girls welcomed her to +their circle. Florence was her favorite among them, while she +openly courted Alan's favor, to the amusement of the boy's mother, +who smiled quietly to herself over his unconsciousness of her +attempts and his continued, unswerving devotion to Polly. + +"But what I don't understand," she said to Florence, one day, when +they were out for a walk together, "is how you girls ever happened +to pick up Jean Dwight." + +"Pick her up? What do you mean?" asked Florence, meeting her +friend's look with a glance which was almost defiant, for she was +too loyal to Jean to fail to notice the scorn in Katharine's tone +and manner. + +"You know what I mean, Florence, so don't pretend to be as absurd +as Polly Adams and Molly are. Of course you and I both know that +you three girls could have the pick of the town, if you chose; and +I don't see why you take up with the daughter of a carpenter." + +Polly had called Florence "a flat," but there was no suggestion of +weakness in her reply now. On the contrary, she drew up her small +figure to its full height, and spoke with a simple, childish +dignity which might have put to shame her companion. + +"You needn't say any more about it, Katharine. It is just because +we do have the pick of the town that we have taken up with Jean +Dwight. At least, she is too much of a lady to slander her friends +behind their backs, even if she is only a carpenter's daughter." + +"Don't be so crushing, Florence. I only wanted to know what was +the reason you were with her so much," answered Katharine, trying +to pass off the matter lightly, although she was privately +resolving to cultivate the acquaintance of this girl, of whom her +friends were so fond. + +One bright day in early October, the V had walked up from school +together as far as Molly's, where they settled themselves on the +piazza to talk over the doings of the day. Katharine and Jessie +had joined them, and they sat there chatting till the clock struck +five. At the sound, Polly sprang up. + +"Oh, dear! I ought to have gone home long ago," she said +regretfully. "Is anybody else coming?" + +"I'm going to stay a little longer," answered Jean. "Wait just a +few minutes, Poll." + +"I can't, Jean; mamma will be expecting me." And Polly picked up +her hat and started for home, followed by Alan who escorted her to +the gate. + +She was surprised, when she entered the house, to find the lower +rooms deserted and in some confusion. Her astonishment was +increased when, on going up-stairs, she saw her mother with her +bonnet on, busy in packing her small satchel. Mrs. Adams's red +eyes and white face told her daughter that something was amiss. + +"So you have come, at last!" she exclaimed, with an air of relief, +as she caught sight of Polly in the door; "I was just thinking +that I should have to send Mary after you." + +"What's the matter, mamma; are you going away?" Polly asked +anxiously. + +"For a little while, dear. We have had a telegram that Uncle +Charlie is very, very ill. And Aunt Jane and I are going to New +York to-night." + +So Aunt Jane was going too! Polly was relieved at that. Uncle +Charlie she scarcely knew, so her main anxiety was for her mother, +of whose devotion to this only brother she was well aware. "Is he +going to die, mamma?" she asked slowly. + +The tears were falling on the toilet-case in Mrs. Adams's hand, +but she answered steadily,-- + +"I hope not, dear; but they are very anxious about him. I am sorry +to leave you all alone here with papa, and he is away so much of +the time, too." + +"Don't you worry about me, Jerusalem," answered Polly +courageously, though her heart sank, a little, as she thought of +the lonely evenings. + +"I presume I shan't be gone long," said Mrs. Adams thoughtfully; +"but it is so uncertain. If only Aunt Jane could be here, it would +be a comfort to you." + +But Polly shook her head violently. + +"I'd rather be alone, mamma. I shall get along beautifully, and +you've no idea what good care I'll take of papa." + +Mrs. Adams was crossing the room to get her slippers. As she +passed Polly, she stooped to kiss her. + +"And you have no idea," she said, "what a comfort it is to me that +you take it so bravely. I know it will be forlorn for you, but +there isn't any help for it. Papa is getting ready, now, to drive +us to the station, for it is almost time for the train." + +As she spoke, the doctor's voice was heard from below, calling to +them to hurry; Aunt Jane swept out from her room; Mrs. Adams +snapped the fastener of her bag and turned to say good by to her +daughter. Polly went down-stairs behind her and stood in the door, +looking after them with rather a long face, though she waved her +hand bravely until they were around the corner. + +Then she went back up-stairs, feeling as if, all at once, an +earthquake had struck their quiet home. She and her mother had +rarely been separated, and the suddenness and sadness of the +present summons only added to the loneliness. The house was in +that state of disorder which always follows a hurried packing, and +Polly went mechanically up and down, putting the rooms in order +while, in imagination, she followed the travellers to the train. +Then, when, all was done, she went into her own room and sat down +to consider the situation. Taken all in all, it was not an +encouraging picture that the next few days presented. Her father +was liable to be called away at any hour of the night, leaving her +alone with Mary who slept at the far end of the house; there would +be the lonely hours when she was out of school; the next day was +Saturday--what should she do with herself? The prospect was too +much for poor Polly and, throwing herself down on her bed, she +gave herself up to the luxury of a hearty cry. + + "I wish I were dead now, + Or else in my bed now, + I'd cover my head now, + And have a good cry." + +"Is this what you call a hospitable welcome?" asked a sudden voice. + +Polly raised her head in surprise, and saw Molly standing in the +doorway, with a smile on her face and a great bundle in her hand. +Polly sprang up and threw her arms around her friend excitedly. + +"Oh, Molly Hapgood! where did you come from? I never, never was so +glad to see anybody in all my life." + +"If that's a fact," said Molly coolly, "why didn't you come down- +stairs to meet me, and not make me hunt for you, all over the +house?" + +"How could I meet you, when I didn't know you were coming?" +demanded Polly. + +"Didn't you?" asked Molly, surprised in her turn. "Why, your +mother just stopped at our house and told me that she had to go +away for a few days, and you wanted me to come and stay with you +till she came back. She said you'd tell me all about it." + +"Isn't that just like her!" exclaimed Polly rapturously. "And +you're going to stay here all the time? How perfectly splendid!" + +"Where's she gone?" asked Molly, as she unpacked her brown paper +Saratoga. + +"Uncle Charlie, in New York, is so ill they've sent for mamma and +Aunt Jane," answered Polly, with sudden seriousness, "and they +don't know anything more than that. It said--the telegram, I mean-- +'Charles very ill, come at once,' and mamma is dreadfully +worried. Of course she doesn't know how long she'll be gone. Oh, I +am so glad you've come!" And Polly, with the tears still damp upon +her cheeks, pranced excitedly up and down the room. + +"You don't know how lonesome it was going to be," she went on, +when she had quieted down a little. "Now, if only Uncle Charlie +will get well, I don't care much how long they're gone. We'll just +have an elegant time." + +"I don't think Katharine liked my coming very well," remarked +Molly, with a giggle, as she pulled out an extra gown and hung it +over the foot of Polly's dainty white and gold bed. "She seems to +think I can't stir, now they are at the house; but I'm not going +to give up all my fun for them. They're nothing but boarders; +'tisn't as if they were on a visit; and Alan can see to them once +in a while. He can't bear Katharine," she continued, after a +pause; "he heard her say to Florence, once, that he was distangy +looking, and he never has forgiven her since. We don't either of +us know just what it means, but he thinks it has something to do +with his nose." + +Polly threw herself into a chair and burst out laughing. + +"Oh, Molly, Molly! What will you say next? That means +distinguished; it's French, you know." "I don't know anything +about French, Poll; and you needn't laugh at me, for you don't +know much yourself," returned Molly, with some dignity. + +"I don't believe Katharine does, either," answered Polly. "The way +I happened to know about that was because she said so to me once, +and I asked mamma what it meant. She says she doesn't think it's +nice for girls to keep putting French and German words into what +they say, for it looks as if they did it to show off. Come on, +let's go down and see what we're going to have for dinner." + +Soon after dinner, the doctor went away to his office, and the +girls decided to settle themselves for a quiet visit in front of +the open fire in the parlor. This was their first evening alone +together since Jessie and Katharine had come, and there was much +to be talked over. + +"Don't let's have any light but just the fire," Molly suggested. +"Then we'll sit on the rug and have it all to ourselves." + +"I can't help feeling as if Aunt Jane were likely to drop in at +any minute, though," Polly remarked. "She doesn't approve of +people's sitting in the dark; she thinks it is lazy." + +"She's half way to New York by this time," said Molly; "but I do +wish your mother was here." + +"So do I," groaned Polly fervently, as she caught sight of the +empty fire-place, for there was not one single stick on the +andirons. + +Now, to lay an open fire ready for the lighting is at once a +science and a fine art, and Polly was by no means versed in the +operation. Why, of all days in the year, this happened to be the +one on which Mrs. Adams had neglected to arrange her usual pile of +round sticks and kindlings and shavings, it would be hard to say. +Some little unexpected call on her time had made her forget this +regular duty, and had left her daughter as hostess to preside over +a cheerless hearthstone. + +"What's the trouble?" asked Molly, as she detected the discouraged +ring to her friend's tone. "Don't you know how to lay a fire?" + +"I never have laid one, all alone," admitted Polly, whose share in +the matter, it must be confessed, had been to tuck a handful of +soft, light shavings under the andirons and apply the match. +"But," she added valiantly; "I've watched mamma often enough, and +I know I can do it. We must have a fire; the furnace one is 'most +out, for Mary forgot to put in any coal, and it's just freezing +here. You sit down, and I'll go get some wood." + +She came back in a few moments, tugging a great basket of wood, +which she arranged in an orderly, solid pile across the andirons, +much as she might have placed it, had she been packing it in a +woodshed. Then she added a generous handful of shavings, and +touched it off with a match. + +"There!" said she, with a prolonged accent of contentment; "you +see it's easy enough. It will all be going, in a minute." + +"Don't you be too sure," returned Molly, doubtfully eyeing the +shavings which flashed into flame and quickly died away, leaving +the wood unscorched. + +"What do you suppose is the matter?" said Polly, rather annoyed at +her lack of success. + +"Seems to me you've put the wood in too tight," said Molly, arming +herself with the shovel, and trying to pry the sticks apart. + +"Perhaps I have," said Polly meekly. + +Regardless of soot and ashes, she pulled the wood out on the rug, +and began again. This time she arranged it cris-crossing as +regularly as the walls of a log-house, and, having exhausted her +supply of shavings, she lighted a newspaper and thrust it into the +middle opening. The girls watched it with eager eyes. It blazed up +like the shavings and, like them, burned out, leaving only the +blackened cinders, with here and there a line of red, to show +where an edge had been. This was discouraging; the room was +uncomfortably cool, and they were wasting their entire evening in +preparing for their talk. + +"The third time conquers," said Molly, laughing, as she saw Polly +tearing down her log cabin. "What are you going to do next, Poll?" + +"Lay it yourself, if you want to," retorted Polly, showing more +heat than the fire had done. + +"I never did such a thing in my life," Molly assured her. "Can't +Mary do it?" + +"I don't know," said Polly, dropping back from her knees until she +sat on her heels; "anyway, she's so cross I don't dare ask her." + +"What makes your mother keep her if she's so cross?" inquired +Molly, leaning forward to blow the last spark which still lingered +on the newspaper. + +"Because she can't get anything else," answered Polly, +unconsciously touching the key-note of the whole servant question. + +"Well," remarked Molly, after a pause, while Polly again wrestled +with the fire, "we shall catch our deaths of cold here, Polly; we +may as well go to bed, for this isn't going to burn to-night." + +"I'm sorry, Molly," her hostess said penitently, as they went up- +stairs after leaving a note on the table addressed to the doctor, +and containing the simple but alarming statement: "Good night; +we've gone to bed to keep from freezing." + +"I don't care a bit," said Molly. "I like to talk after I'm in +bed, and we shall have ever and ever so long before we get +sleepy." + +At breakfast, the next morning, the girls had to bear with much +teasing from the doctor on the subject of their struggles, the +evening before; and, as he rose from the table, he suggested that +they should ask Alan to give them a few lessons in making +bonfires. + +"I shan't be back to lunch," he added, as he put his head through +the dining-room door again; "but I'd like dinner on time to-night, +surely, for I must go down to the hospital before my evening +hour." + +"I'll tell Mary," said Polly, jumping up to follow him to the +front door, as was her mother's custom. + +"Now," she continued, as she went back to the table, "what let's +do all day?" + +Their plans were soon formed: a drive with Job in the morning, +for, of late, after many cautions, Polly had been allowed to drive +the old creature; and in the afternoon they would go to see Jean. + +"I wonder if Alan wouldn't go with us, this morning," said Polly. + +"I think he'd like to," answered Molly. "He caught cold a week +ago, and since then he's been so stiff that he hasn't been +anywhere but just to school and back; and I should think he would +be glad to get away from Katharine. He says he gets so tired of +her." + +"We'll ask him, then," said Polly. "I think 'twould be a good idea +to start early, so I'll go out to tell Mary about lunch, and have +John harness right away." + +She was gone for some time, and when she came back to Molly in the +sitting-room, her face was flushed and her eyes were shining with +an angry gleam. + +"Why, Polly?" said Molly, raising her eyebrows inquiringly. + +"It's that horrid Mary!" responded Polly, casting herself down on +the sofa with unnecessary vigor. "I don't see what we are going to +do, Molly Hapgood; I've a good mind to send you right straight off +home." + +"You've done it before now," Molly began teasingly, but seeing the +real trouble in her friend's face, she relented and asked, "What's +gone wrong, Polly?" + +"It hasn't gone, it's only going," answered Polly lugubriously. +"It's Mary. She says mamma has been promising her a vacation for a +long time, and that she's going to take it now, for it's such a +good time when part of the family are away. I told her she +mustn't; but she says she's going to, or else she'll go for good. +I don't dare let her do that, but whatever am I going to do, +Molly? She's going right off now, and you'd better go home to +stay." And Polly rose and stalked tragically up and down the room, +with her fingers buried in her curls. + +Molly surveyed her in pity; then she rose to meet the emergency +like a heroine. + +"I'm not going to go home one single step, Polly," she declared. +"I'll stay here and help you through with it." + +"But you'll starve, Molly," remonstrated her hostess tearfully. + +"Nonsense!" responded Molly. "Now you just sit down and don't go +rushing round like this, and we'll talk the matter over, and take +an account of stock." + +This was encouraging, and Polly felt her spirits coming up again. + +"Well?" she asked, as she seated herself on the sofa once more. + +"In the first place," said Molly, with a calmness born of +inexperience, "we'll tell her to go. I have heard mamma say, often +and often, that it's easier to do the work yourself than to have a +girl around that's restless and wanting to be off all the time." + +There was something so impressive in Molly's manner, as she +delivered herself of this sentiment, that Polly gazed at her with +a new respect. She had never dreamed that her friend knew so much +about housekeeping. + +"And so," Molly went on, "we'll just get rid of her and do the +work ourselves. I've always been dying to try it, and this is a +splendid chance. We won't do much sweeping and dusting, for it +will only be for a day or two--How long was she going to be gone, +Polly?" + +"A week," answered Polly briefly. + +"A whole week!" Molly's face fell. Then she resumed, "Well, we +shall get on, in some way or other." + +"We needn't do much but get the meals and wash the dishes," said +Polly, with renewed courage. + +"We shouldn't have time, if we wanted to," returned Molly. "Now, +Polly, the question is: how much do you know about cooking?" + +"Not very much," Polly confessed. "I can boil eggs and make toast, +and I have made coffee, once or twice, just for fun." + +"That's good," said Molly enthusiastically; "you're a treasure, +Polly. I can do codfish and milk, and make molasses candy, and fry +griddle-cakes. We shan't have such a bad time, after all." + +"We have ever so many cook-books," suggested Polly. "Can't we do +something with them?" + +"I'm afraid they'd be tough, unless we boiled them a good while," +giggled Molly. "But really, Poll, we can work out of them; try +lots of new things, you know, to astonish your father. What does +he like?" + +"Welsh rarebit," responded Polly promptly; "and baked macaroni, +and lemon pudding, and--" + +"Not too much, Polly; we can't do all that at once. We'll try +something new every meal. Oh, say! don't let's tell your father +Mary has gone. We'll have dinner all ready when he comes, and not +let him know that we cooked it ourselves, until he's eaten it. +Then we'll tell him and surprise him." + +"Well," assented Polly, with a vague misgiving that her father +might discover the change of cook; "I think it will be fun, Molly; +and then, if we get hard up, there are plenty of crackers and +preserves to fall back on." + +"We shan't want them," said Molly scornfully. "I know we shall +have a great deal better things to eat than if Mary stayed. +Servant girls are so unreliable!" she added, with a whimsical +imitation of Aunt Jane's manner. + +"I'll tell you one thing," said Polly, with decision, "we must not +tell the girls or Alan, for if they knew about it, they would +invite themselves to meals. If we cook for us three, that is all +we can do." + +"What if they come here to see us?" asked Molly. + +"We'll lock the door and hide," replied Polly inhospitably. "There +are times when company is a nuisance,--I don't mean you, Molly, +for you are head housekeeper, and I couldn't get along without +you. But come, we'll go up and put our room in order, while we are +waiting for her to get out of the way." + +At this very moment Mrs. Adams, one hundred and fifty miles away, +was congratulating herself that she had left her little daughter +with such a competent servant who, though far from amiable, yet +was quite capable of taking the entire charge of the house during +her absence. Perhaps it was just as well that she was not within +hearing of the conversation which the girls had just been holding. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +POLLY'S HOUSEKEEPING. + + +"I'm going now, miss," remarked Mary's voice at the foot of the +front stairs. + +"Go on, then," said Polly, with dignity, turning to Molly to add, +"She wouldn't dare do that if mamma were here. Then she never +thinks of calling to us, like this." + +Peeping stealthily out at the front window, the girls watched her +as she walked off, dressed in her state and festival suit. Then +they descended to the kitchen to survey their field of operations. + +"She's left it in splendid order, and there's a hot fire; that's +one good thing," said Polly, lifting the stove lid to look in. + +"With a fire and a cook-book, we can work wonders," said Molly. +"Now, Polly, let's plan." + +"All right." And Polly sat down on the wood-box. "What shall we +have for lunch? That comes first." + +"I'll tell you," suggested Molly suddenly, as if struck with a +brilliant idea; "let's not have much for lunch. Your father won't +be here, so we can eat up whatever was left over from breakfast, +and have all our time for the dinner." + +"But 'tisn't time to get dinner now; it's only eleven o'clock," +said Polly. + +"Yes, it is time," returned Molly. "I want to try a lemon pudding +for dessert, if he likes them, and it takes ever so much time, I +know. We must feed him up well, so he won't look thin to your +mother when, she gets back." + +"Let's see how the oven is," said Polly, pulling open the door and +peering in. "It feels nice and warm, so perhaps we'd better go to +work." + +"Where are your cook-books?" demanded Molly. + +"Here." And Polly brought out a number of books and pamphlets. "We +ought to find a rule in some of these." + +Molly possessed herself of the largest. + +"'Marion Holland'--no, 'Harland,'" she read. "Oh, I've heard of +her! I'll look in this, and you take another. Let's see, where's +the index? 'Soups--fish--poultry--meats--company.' Oh, where is +it? 'Eggs--cake.' That sounds like it. 'Servants--puddings.' At +last! 'Apple--cottage--cracker--lemon.' Here are two lemon +puddings, Polly." And Molly glanced up to see Polly, with an +anxious frown, reading intently from her own small book. She +looked up, in her turn, to answer,-- + +"Here's another, so you read yours and then I'll read mine, and +we'll see which we like best." + +"'One cup of sugar, four eggs, two tablespoons cornstarch, two +lemons, one pint milk, one tablespoon butter,'" read Molly. "You +get your milk hot and put in the starch and boil five minutes-- +Oh, there's a lot more to do! Just see here." + +Both heads were bent over the book. Then Polly exclaimed,-- + +"Mine is easier, I know. Listen: 'A quarter of a pound of suet, +half a pound of bread crumbs, four ounces of sugar, the juice of +two lemons, the grated rind of one, and one egg. Boil it well in +an _Agate_ pot, and serve with sauce.'" + +There was an expressive pause. + +"Yours is better, after all," said Polly. "I don't know what suet +is, but I don't believe we have any; and besides, it's ever so +much easier to measure cups than pounds." + +The girls enveloped themselves in gingham aprons and set to work. +Polly rummaged in store-room and pantry, and brought out the +necessary materials for the pudding, while Molly measured and +mixed. + +"Polly," she called suddenly, in a tone of distress. Polly put her +head out from the pantry. Her face was decorated with coal-dust +from the stove and flour from the barrel, but she was too intent +upon her work to care for that. + +"Well," she asked, "what's the matter?" + +"There isn't enough cornstarch," said Molly, showing the empty +paper. + +"How much more do you need?" asked Polly, looking rather blank. + +"Another spoonful," replied Molly; "and the milk is all boiling +now, ready for it." + +"I wish we had Alan here, to send for some," sighed Polly. + +"There isn't time. Don't you suppose your mother has another +package?" asked Molly, stirring the boiling milk in an excited +fashion that sent occasional drops spattering and hissing over the +stove. + +"Perhaps she has." And Polly hurried away to the store-room, +jingling her keys with a comical air of consequence. + +She came flying back, in a moment, with a small package in her +hand. + +"I wonder if this won't do just as well," she said. "It's marked +elastic starch, instead of cornstarch, but it looks ever so much +like the other, and it's all there is, anyway." + +Molly eyed it with little favor. + +"It isn't just the same," she said thoughtfully; "but if we can't +get anything else, we may as well use it. Here goes, anyway." And +she added a heaping spoonful. + +The pudding was mixed, poured into a baking dish and set into the +oven. + +"There," said Molly, with an air of relief, "that's done, all but +watching to see that it doesn't burn." + +"And clearing up the table," sighed Polly. "It doesn't seem as if +we could have used so many dishes, just for one little pudding; +does it, Molly?" + +"Never mind," said Molly consolingly; "when it's done, we shall +feel paid for it all. I don't mind washing dishes. You put the +sugar and stuff away, while I do them. I wish I felt sure about +this other starch," she added, taking up the paper and glancing at +it. + +Polly's back was turned, when she heard an exclamation of horror. +Looking around, she saw Molly who, with the package still in +her hand, had dropped into a chair. + +"What is it?" she asked anxiously. + +"See here!" And Molly pointed solemnly to the label, then burst +into another fit of merriment, as she watched Polly's face grow +blank while she road aloud,-- + +"'Elastic Starch: Prepared for Laundry Purposes, only.'" + +"Whatever do you suppose it will do to us?" asked Molly, +struggling to regain her self-control, and then laughing harder +than ever. + +"I'm sure I don't know," answered Polly. "It can't kill us, but it +may stiffen us up some. I wonder if we'd better try to eat it, +Molly." "I'm not going to have all my work wasted," said Molly +decidedly, as she opened the oven door and peeped in. "It's +browning just beautifully, and looks all right. We won't say or +think anything about it, and I don't believe it will hurt us any. +Even if it does, we have a doctor right in the house." + +"Unless it kills him, first of all," added Polly gloomily. "But +I'm tired now, Molly; we'll have lunch while that is baking, and +then we can rest till time to get dinner. I never supposed it was +so much work to keep house." + +"What are you going to have for dinner?" asked Molly, ignoring the +last remark. + +"Beefsteak and potatoes and pudding," said Polly. "That's enough. +We don't want to begin better than we can keep up." + +Their lunch was over, and the dishes piled up, to be washed later, +when they should feel more like it; the girls had made themselves +presentable again after their labors, and were sunning themselves +like two young turtles, on the front steps, when they saw Alan +coming towards the house. + +"Now, Molly," Polly cautioned her; "remember we aren't going to +tell that we are housekeeping." + +"What have you been doing with yourselves?" inquired Alan, as he +sat down on the step below them and pulled his soft hat forward, +to keep the dazzling sun out of his eyes. "I came here just before +noon, but I couldn't start up anybody. Where were you?" + +"How strange we didn't hear you!" said Molly innocently. "We were +here all the morning. Are you sure the bell rang?" + +"I should say it did," said Alan. "I pulled it till I was tired. +You must have been deaf, or asleep." + +"We weren't either; we were only just busy," answered Polly, with, +an air of importance which would have roused Alan's suspicions, +had not Molly come to the rescue by asking about her cousins. + +"They're off driving, this afternoon," answered Alan. "They tried +to make me go, but I told them flatly I didn't want to, so they +took Florence instead. I had to play casino with Kit all last +evening, and that was all I could stand. I say, I'm going to stay +to dinner over here, if you ask me to." The girls exchanged +glances of consternation which, happily, passed over the top of +Alan's head, and were unseen. + +"Well," assented Polly, with some reluctance; "you can stay, I +suppose, but you won't get much to be thankful for, I warn you." + +"As long as you tease so hard," responded Alan, disregarding the +coolness of her tone; "I'll stay, then. I told mother I knew you'd +be in a fight, by this time, and need me to make peace, so she'd +better not expect me till I came. Now, honestly, aren't you glad +to see me?" And he beamed up at the girls with such goodwill that +they relaxed their severity, and took the lad into their +confidence. + +"Now, Alan," Molly began solemnly; "if you stay here, you mustn't +ever tell the other girls, but Mary has gone, and Polly and I are +doing the cooking ourselves." + +Alan whistled; but not even his whistle was as disrespectful as +was his following remark,-- + +"Anything left over from yesterday that I can have?" + +"You must behave, if you stay, Alan," said Polly firmly. "You can +go home, or else you can go to work with us, when it's time. I've +told you before now that we won't have any lazy people around this +house." + +"All right; what shall I do first?" And Alan pulled off his cuffs +and folded back the bottoms of his sleeves. "Hullo! who's this +coming?" he exclaimed, as a figure turned in at the gate. + +"Why, it's Mr. Solomon Baxter," said Polly, in some surprise. "How +queer! He never comes here." "Perhaps he's after your father," +suggested Molly, in an undertone. + +"He must be," answered Polly, as she rose to meet him; "but I +should think he would know that papa's at his office, not here." +Mr. Baxter was a widower of fifty, whose wife had recently died, +leaving him with six children under ten years old. Whatever may +have been the motives leading to the match, surely Mrs. Baxter +could never have married her husband either for his personal +beauty or for his repose of manner; for Mr. Baxter's bald head was +covered with a smooth yellow wig, and his figure presented every +appearance of having its joints so tightly wired together that +they could not play freely in their places, while it was a matter +of common report that his nervous, excitable manner had worried +his wife until she was glad to be at rest. + +"How do you do? Is your aunt at home?" he answered Polly's +greeting. + +This was unexpected, but Polly reflected that they might be on +some committee together. + +"I am sorry, but she and mamma were sent for to go to New York," +she explained courteously. "Their brother is ill. Won't you come +in, sir?" + +"Just for a little while, perhaps," said Mr. Baxter, following her +into the parlor. "If they're away, who's keeping house?" + +"We are, Molly Hapgood and I," answered Polly, a little surprised +at the question. + +"A good girl?" + +Polly looked up in astonishment, thinking that he had taken that +way of praising her. On the contrary, she discovered that this was +intended as a question. + +"What was it you said," she asked. + +"Have you a good girl?" + +"We haven't any," replied Polly meekly; "ours went away this +morning." + +"Just like them! They're the greatest plague in the world!" said +Mr. Baxter explosively, and so rapidly that his words appeared to +be tumbling over each other, in their haste to escape from his +lips. "They haven't any honor; mine went off yesterday, and I +haven't any to-day. She was a splendid girl with a great trunk +full of real nice clothes, and such refined tastes, she always +drank English breakfast tea. But she wouldn't stay, because I +would not let her have all the soap she wanted. Extravagant +things!" Mr. Baxter suddenly reined in his tongue; then added +abruptly, "Who's housekeeper generally, your mother or your aunt?" + +"Mamma is," replied Polly. + +"Oh!" Mr. Baxter's tone was rather annoyed. There was a prolonged +pause, while Polly watched the clock and reflected that it was +time to put on the potatoes. + +"Are your children well?" inquired Molly politely, feeling that it +was her duty to say something. + +"Quite well, only the baby has the croup almost every night. They +have a great many colds, but I tell them that it's good enough for +them, and perhaps it may teach them to be a little more careful," +answered their fond parent sympathetically. + +"I had a cold last winter," remarked Alan, launching himself into +the conversation with this bit of personal reminiscence. + +"Oh," said Mr. Baxter again. + +There was another pause, a long one this time. Polly broke it, for +she saw that both Molly and Alan were on the point of laughing. + +"It is a beautiful day," she began. "We were going to ride this +morning with Job, but--" She paused abruptly. Job had done +conspicuous duty in Mrs. Baxter's funeral procession, in fact, he +had helped to bear the disconsolate widower and his children to +her grave. Polly felt that further mention of him would be ill- +timed. Mr. Baxter appeared to be pursuing his own train of +thought. "Is Miss Roberts well?" he asked, after another interval. + +"Very," answered Polly. + +"Not given to being sick much?" + +"No, she is very strong." + +"Well," said Mr. Baxter, rising with an air of relief, "I must be +going. Just tell your aunt, sissy, that I called on her. Where's +my hat?" + +He had mislaid it somewhere, and while he charged up and down the +parlor looking for it, Alan and Molly prudently withdrew, to laugh +unseen. At length he discovered it in the hall, and went away, +leaving the children to speculate vainly on the cause of his +visit. + +"Sissy!" exclaimed Polly violently. "Sissy! I wonder how he'd like +me to call him bubby! I'll try it, the next time he comes. But he +stayed so forever that we shan't have time to cook any potatoes +for dinner." + +They surely would not, for the fire was out and the stove was +cold. + +"Your poor father!" groaned Molly. "And we weren't going to let +him know that anything was wrong." + +"Never mind," said Polly; "we'll give him just meat and pudding. +That's enough for any man." + +They cheered up at that, and, with Alan's help, they went to work +to build a fire, making many discoveries during the operation +about dampers and grates and their uses. But time, always +unaccommodating, refused to wait for them, and six o'clock came +far too soon, and brought the doctor in its train. + +Dr. Adams was rather perplexed when he went into the house and was +met by no one at the door. Polly and her mother usually greeted +him, but to-night the front of the house was deserted. + +"The girls must be off somewhere," he said to himself. "Well, I'll +go out and tell Mary to give me my dinner now, without waiting for +them." + +He made his way to the kitchen, noting to his surprise, as he +passed through the dining-room, that the table was only half set +for the meal, and that the few articles on it had a little the +appearance of having been thrown at it from a distance. Dr. Adams +was an orderly, methodical man, and his wife's careful +housekeeping was quite to his liking. However, he reflected that, +during her absence, there must and would be irregularities, and +passed on to the kitchen. As he opened the door, he was met by a +cloud of dense, bluish white smoke which brought the quick tears +to his eyes. Through the thick air he could see, not the ample +proportions of his usual cook, but three small figures that were +hurrying to and fro with a purposeless, ineffectual bustle which +yet accomplished nothing. One of the figures hailed him in +disconsolate tones,-- + +"Oh, papa! are you home so soon?" + +"So soon?" he answered, as well as he could for coughing; "it's +six o'clock now. Is dinner ready? What are you doing out here?" + +It took but a moment to explain the matter, and then the doctor +showed that it was not without reason that Polly called him the +best father in the world. He was just back from a long drive out +into the country with a fellow doctor, to pass judgment upon a +critical case; he must visit a man in the hospital before his +evening office hour; he was tired, hungry, and in a hurry, and +there was no immediate prospect of dinner. But the three weary, +heated, crocky faces before him moved him to pity, and he threw +open the outer door, saying briskly,-- + +"Let's have a little air here, and see what's the matter." + +"The fire won't seem to burn," said Alan. "It just smokes and goes +out." + +"So I see," said the doctor laughing. "Perhaps it would go better, +my boy, if the dampers were not shut up tight. All it needs is a +little draught,--see?" And in a moment there was a comfortable +crackling sound going on inside the stove. + +Before his marriage, the doctor had been in the habit of camping +out every summer, and his old experiences came to his aid in the +present crisis. While the girls flew in to set the table, he +quickly brought the fire into order, and cooked the meat as +handily as a woman. Thanks to him, the supper proved a merry one +in spite of the smoky dining-room, the meagre bill of fare, and +the great white blister on the side of Alan's hand, which the lad +was doing his best to keep out of the doctor's sight. Molly raised +her eyebrows and darted a comical glance at Polly when the doctor +asked for a second plate of the pudding, and it was not until long +afterwards that the girls knew of the manful effort he had made to +swallow the sticky compound. + +"Can I do anything more to help you?" he asked, stopping behind +Alan's chair as he was going away. + +"You've done enough already, I should think," answered Molly +gratefully. + +"It was too bad for Mary to leave you in the lurch," he replied. +Then, as his eyes fell on Alan's hand, he added, "That's a hard +burn, my boy! Why in the world didn't you say something about it?" + +"What was the use?" inquired Alan calmly. "Grumbling about it +wouldn't do it any good." + +"No; but I could," responded the doctor. "I like your pluck, but +there's no use making a martyr of yourself for nothing. Come into +my den and let me put something on it." And after a moment's +delay, he went striding away down the street, looking at his watch +as he walked. + +"How do people ever manage to keep house?" sighed Molly, an hour +later. + +The dishes were washed, the rooms in order, and the two girls were +luxuriously settled on the sofa, which they had drawn up in front +of Alan's blazing fire on the hearth. Alan himself was stretched +out on the rug, with his yellow head resting against the seat of +the sofa, beside Polly's hand. Too tired to talk, the children had +sat there quietly watching the fire until Molly broke the silence. + +"I don't see, I'm sure," returned Polly. "It never seems as if +mamma did much, even when we haven't any girl; and I'm tired +almost to death, with what little we've done." + +"I'm slowly getting to think," said Molly reflectively; "that our +mothers are wonderful women. If it takes three of us to spoil one +dinner, how do they get along, to do all the housekeeping and look +out for us and sew and all?" + +"Perhaps they know more to start with," suggested Alan, ducking +his head out of reach of Polly's threatening fingers. + +"If you hadn't been and gone and burned yourself in our service, +Alan," she said, laughing, "I would turn you out of the house." + +But Molly was too much in earnest to heed this by-play. + +"I believe I'll learn to cook," she went on. "I don't mean fancy +cooking, but good, plain things that one could live on." + +"Why not go to cooking school?" asked Polly. + +"Yes," rejoined Molly scornfully; "and learn to make chicken salad +and angel cake and chocolate creams. That's all very well, but I +want to know how to do something that will help along, when we get +in a tight place. Hark! what's that?" she added, as a sudden +flurry of rain swept against the windows. + +"That's cheerful!" said Alan, starting up. "I don't care about +getting a ducking. I wish I'd gone home before this." + +"No matter," urged Polly. "Stay till papa comes; he'll be in at +nine, and then we'll give you an umbrella and things." + +"Well." And Alan threw more wood on the fire and then settled back +into his former position; "I may as well, for I don't believe it +will rain any harder than it does now, and maybe it will stop. I +say, Polly," he went on; "tell us a story, there's a good fellow." + +"I'm too tired to-night, Alan," Polly began; "I haven't an idea in +my head and--Is that you, papa?" she called, as the front door +opened and shut. + +"No, it's mamma," and Mrs. Adams walked into the parlor. + +"Jerusalem!" and Polly sprang up with a glad cry. "Wherever did +you come from?" + +She was surrounded and dragged forward to the sofa, where Alan +took her cloak, Molly her bonnet, and Polly pulled off her gloves. + +"This is delightful to be so waited on," said Mrs. Adams. "It is +worth while going away, to have the pleasure of coming back to my +three children. Now come and sit down, and tell me all about it." +And with a girl at each side and a boy at her feet, she prepared +to hear the story of their doings. + +"First, how is Uncle Charlie?" asked Polly, sure from her mother's +bright face that there was no bad news. + +"It was a sudden attack of indigestion, and he was much better +before we reached him; but for a little while they thought there +was no chance for him. Aunt Jane is going to stay for a week or +two, but I was in a hurry to come back to my baby. And that +reminds me, I stopped at your house, Alan, to tell your mother I +had come and that Molly would stay here till Monday; and when I +found that you were here, I said I should keep you, too, till +morning. But now you must tell me how you've been amusing +yourselves." + +"With cooking," said Polly, with a tragic groan. "Mary's gone off +for a week, and the fire went out, and Alan burned himself, and we +nearly starved. I'm glad you've come back; oh, you can't guess how +glad!" + +By degrees they told the tale of their woes, not omitting the +slightest detail, while Mrs. Adams leaned back on the sofa and +laughed till the tears came. + +"But there's one good thing about it all," observed Molly, in +conclusion. "We've had a perfectly dreadful time, but it will +teach us to appreciate our mothers and know a little what they are +doing, the whole time." + +CHAPTER VIII. + +HALLOWE'EN. + +"You have such a different way of looking at things from what +mamma did," said Katharine. + +"Perhaps it is because we have lived so differently," Mrs. Hapgood +answered her. + +It was a cold, gray day in late October, a day which showed that +November was close at hand. The other girls were off for some +frolic, Alan was reading and dozing on the sofa in the next room, +so Mrs. Hapgood and Katharine had the parlor to themselves, and +were snugly settled in two willow chairs drawn up in front of the +fire, Katharine busy on a dainty bit of embroidery, Mrs. Hapgood +putting a new sleeve into a gown which had yielded before Molly's +energetic elbows. + +"I wonder if that is it." And Katharine laid down her work and +fell to pondering on the matter. After a time, she resumed, "After +all, auntie, I don't know but I like your way better. I thought at +first it was going to be slow here. At home, there's never any +time for quiet talks like this; it's just nothing but a hurry and +a scrabble, and when we get through, we've nothing to show for it. +I've only been here six weeks, but I really feel as if I know you +now better than I do mamma." And Katharine rested her head against +the back of her chair, while the dark eyes fixed on the fire grew +a little dim. + +Mrs. Hapgood leaned over and rested her hand on the girl's, as it +lay on the arm of her chair. + +"I'm glad to have you say so, Katharine," said she. "For this +year, I am to stand in place of a mother to you, you know, and I +like to have you feel at home here." + +"I know all that," answered Katharine; "and I'm glad they sent me +here, only it mixes me all up. When I was at home and kept hearing +little bits about it, the parties and the flowers and the pretty +gowns, I felt as if I couldn't wait to be old enough to be in it +all. When I came away, mamma said I was to be here a year, and +then, go home to come out, so I could be ready to be married at +eighteen, as she did. A year is such a little while to wait that I +thought I was almost there. But when I came here, I found the +girls of my age acting like children, and having splendid times +doing what I had always thought was silly, and not caring the +least bit about society and all that. I shall just get used to +this and like it, and then go back into the other once more." + +"But not in just the same way, I hope." + +"I suppose not, auntie; but it won't make so very much difference, +after all." + +"Perhaps not," her aunt answered; "but it may make a little. If +you hadn't come to us, you would never have seen the other side, +that there are a few good times outside of the parties and the +young men. And even if you go back into it when you go home, as +you probably will, Katharine, it won't do any harm for you to have +had a year to stop and think, and talk matters over, before +plunging into the 'scrabble,' as you call it." + +"It seemed so queer, when I first came East," said Katharine, as +she took up her work again, "to see you and Molly sit down and +talk for an hour at a time. Mamma hasn't ever done it with us, +only to joke with us, or ask about our lessons once in a while. +But everything that comes up, Molly and Polly Adams say, 'Mamma +says so,' or 'Mamma thinks so.'" + +She sewed steadily for a few moments, then she broke off, to ask, +with an air of mock tragedy,-- + +"Mamma says she wants me to marry at eighteen; but what in the +world should I do, auntie, if nobody should ask me?" + +"Not get married, I suppose," returned her aunt composedly. + +Katharine's face fell. + +"What! be an old maid, like Polly's Aunt Jane!" she exclaimed. + +"It isn't necessary that you should be like her, even if you +shouldn't marry." And Mrs. Hapgood laughed at the horror in +Katharine's tone. Then she went on, seriously, "Katharine, may I +talk very plainly with you, just as if you were really my +daughter?" + +"Please do, auntie." And Katharine drew her chair a little closer +to her aunt's. + +"You were just saying that your mother and I look at things +differently, Katharine, and it is true that we do. I wouldn't find +fault with her for anything, for she has been a dear, good sister +to me; but it seems to me that she has made a little bit of a +mistake in letting your head get filled with all these thoughts of +being married. You are only a child yet, my dear, and it is years +before such ideas ought to come to you. But now they are here, I +am going to tell you just what I think about it all. Not all women +are fitted to marry; some would be happier and better without it. +The day is long past when a woman must either marry or be laughed +at as an old maid. What I want my girls to do is to grow into +strong, noble women who are fitted to fill any position that opens +before them, and to fill it well, with no thought of self, but +only for the good of others. Then, if the time ever comes that you +are asked to be the wife of a man, for the sake of whose love and +companionship you are ready to give up all else, then you will do +right to marry him, but not until then." + +There was another pause. Mrs. Hapgood went on,-- + +"And since we are on the subject, Katharine, there is one more +word to say. If the time ever comes for you, remember, in making +your great decision, that married life is not all sunshine, but +that there are the same little every-day worries after marriage as +there were before. If a woman is strong enough to be a true, +devoted wife, she can have no happier, better life than in her own +home. But she has no right to promise without thinking it all +over, whether she can sacrifice and work, can suffer hardship and +even wrong for her husband's sake. Those are solemn words, dear, +and should never be spoken thoughtlessly: 'For better for worse, +for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health--'" + +"You make it all mean so much more than mamma did," said Katharine +thoughtfully. "She never talked to me like this. You make me half +afraid of it, auntie." + +"So much the better," her aunt replied. "It isn't anything that +you can do one day, and undo the next; but it is a matter of life-- +and death," she added, as if to herself. Then she went on, with +an entire change of tone, "Now, Kit, we have been talking about a +very serious matter, and I am nearly through. But we may never +speak of it again, so before we leave it, I want to just say that +I wish you could put this whole subject out of your head for +years, until the great question comes to you,--better still, if it +had never been put into your head in the first place. However, +that mischief is done. Still, try as hard as you can, for this +year at least, to forget all about it. Then, if you must remember +it at all, remember it as we have spoken of it, a serious question +which must be settled between you and your conscience. In the +meantime, do the very best you can to develop yourself into a +helpful woman, ready for any call that may come. Your call will +come, in one way or another, and all you have to do is to be +prepared to answer 'ready.' And the grand secret of this +preparation lies in perfect unconsciousness of self. It is all +hidden in you, Kit, if you only try to make the most of it. And +now I shouldn't at all wonder if we were better friends than ever +for this frank talk, should you?" + +The girl did not speak, but, bending over, she kissed her aunt +impulsively and left the room. + +"The child is finding her soul at last," said Mrs. Hapgood to +herself. "Kate had smothered it and buried it under her false +ideas of womanhood; but it is there, and Katharine might so easily +make a woman to be proud of, with her warm, loving nature, if only +she could be kept out of the 'scrabble' for a few years longer. +Well, my son, what is it?" she added aloud, as Alan came in, +yawning and stretching, and dropped into the chair just vacated by +Katharine. + +"Nothing, only I'm sick of reading, and came in for my share in +the talk. Has Kit gone?" + +"She just went up-stairs," answered his mother, surveying her boy +with fond pride, for, in all truth, Alan was good to look at as he +sat there, a real bonnie boy who might gladden any mother's heart. +Mother-like, she passed a caressing hand over his yellow hair, and +straightened out his coat-collar, but she only said, "Alan, you +are positively growing tall, every single day." + +"Am I?" asked the boy absently. Then he went on. "Speaking of Kit, +mother, has it struck you that she is leaving off a little of her +airs and graces? She isn't near as silly as she was when she first +came." + +"I don't think Katharine is silly," his mother replied; "it is +only a little way she has. You are too critical of her, Alan." + +"Well, she makes me tired," responded the boy, rolling up his eyes +at his mother, whose deep-seated objection to that phrase he well +knew. "She wants to be the very middle of things when we're +together, and must have just so much fuss made over her. She'd be +well enough, if it wasn't for that." + +"Katharine has a great deal of character, after all," said his +mother. "You aren't quite fair to her, Alan. If Polly or Florence +did the same things she does, you would think it was all right." + +"Polly and Kit aren't to be spoken of in the same breath," +answered Alan energetically. "Florence doesn't count, one way or +the other; but Polly is a splendid girl, and about the best friend +I have. She always fights for me, and it would be mean if I didn't +return the compliment once in a while. Here comes Mrs. Adams now," +he added, as he glanced out of the window. + +It was only an errand, not a call, she hurriedly explained. Friday +night was going to be Hallowe'en, and wouldn't Alan and the girls +come over to celebrate, as a surprise to Polly? Jean and Florence +would be there, too. Then she went away again, leaving Alan to +discuss the matter with his mother. + +Friday evening came, and the surprise was kept a profound secret. +Mrs. Adams had called Polly up-stairs to try on a new gown which +she had just finished, and Polly was still revolving in front of +the mirror, making vain attempts to view her back, when the bell +rang. + +"You go down, Polly," said her mother. "I am all covered with +basting-threads." + +So Polly, in all the glory of her new gown, went running down the +stairs to the door, and started back in astonishment as her six +guests came solemnly marching into the house, dressed in their +best, to do honor to the occasion. + +"Why, what are you doing here?" she was beginning rather +inhospitably, when her mother unexpectedly came to her relief and +invited the girls to take off their things. + +"We're a party, Polly," exclaimed Jessie. "How stupid you are not +to see it!" + +"It's Hallowe'en," added Florence; "and we've been asked to come +to celebrate it." + +"Oh-h-h!" And a new light dawned on Polly. "It's a surprise party, +is it? Who started it? You, Jerusalem?" + +"Why don't you take your little friends into the parlor and +converse with them, Polly?" asked Aunt Jane's prim voice. "Don't +you know that it isn't polite to leave them standing here?" + +A sharp reply was trembling on the tip of Polly's tongue; but she +caught her mother's warning glance, so she resolutely turned her +back on the blue satin bow which Aunt Jane had donned for the +party, and led the way into the parlor. + +Then the fun began, for Mrs. Adams had studied to find all the +amusing tricks, whether they belonged to Hallowe'en or not. She +was the gayest of the gay, entering into all the frolic, and doing +her best to make Aunt Jane unbend and have a share in the games. +But there must be a skeleton at every feast, and Miss Roberts +played the part to perfection, sitting back against the wall, and +only smiling indulgently, now and then, as the room rang with the +shouts of the young people. It all started with a tub and a plate +of apples which mysteriously appeared in the dining-room, and soon +they were all in a kneeling circle around the tub, bobbing for the +apples, that took a malicious delight in ducking under the water +and rolling away, just as the white teeth were ready to seize the +stem. The captured apples were only just pared and the seeds +counted, when Mrs. Adams called them away to try their fate on one +single apple which hung by a string from the top of the room. + +"It is an unfailing test," she said. "If you can take a bite out +of this apple without touching it, except with your teeth, you +will live to get married. Otherwise, you will die an old maid." + +Now, it sounds like a very easy matter to bite an apple; but when +it is free to swing this way and that as you touch it, the success +is not so sure. Alan first chased the apple up and down, gnashed +his teeth and retired. Next Florence took her turn, with no better +success. Jessie, too, failed to get a taste, even of the skin. +Then Jean advanced to the charge. + +"Now watch," she said, laughing. "I'm going at this on scientific +principles. See here!" + +She hit the apple with such force as to throw it far up and out, +waited with wide-open mouth until, pendulum-like, it swung back +and, at the instant of its reaching her, before it had turned, she +struck her strong, young teeth into the side and brought away a +generous mouthful. + +"There!" said she triumphantly, as she marched back to her place. +"I defy anybody to do better than that." + +They melted lead and poured it into water, to learn from the shape +as it cooled the secret of their future work; they floated needles +on water, watching them sink, or swim and gather in groups; they +roasted nuts in the ashes, and tried the old, old test of the +three dishes of water. But the prettiest trick of all was one that +brought them back to the great tub once more, to float the walnut- +shell boats, with their burning candles fixed in each. As the +girls took their pairs of shells, one with a pink, the other with +a blue candle placed in the middle like a mast, it was curious to +see the difference in their ways of launching them on this mimic +ocean of life. Jean and Jessie dropped theirs in thoughtlessly, +only intent on the fun of the moment. Florence put hers in +daintily and with care not to wet her fingers, and Molly and +Katharine launched theirs out boldly, following them up with a +little ripple which sent them rocking away into the midst of the +tiny fleet. But Polly, Polly who did not believe in signs, had an +anxious pucker about her eyebrows as she started out her wee +vessels, and hurried them all their way with a mighty splash which +threatened to capsize them, there and then. + +Mrs. Adams stood back, watching the group of bright-colored gowns +and eager faces, as the young people gathered more closely about +the tub to see the fate of their lights, now exclaiming in chorus +at some crisis, now in anxious silence while they waited for new +developments. + +"My light has failed, first of all," said Katharine regretfully. + +"Which is it?" asked Mrs. Adams. + +"The pink one." + +"That is the man," she answered, bending over to look at the poor +little end of candle, with only a smouldering wick to show that +any life was left. + +"It may come up again, Kit," said Florence consolingly. "While +there's life, there's hope." + +"They are alive as long as they float," Mrs. Adams interpreted. +"When they sink, they are dead; but this one is only ill, or else +his plans have failed." + +"That's almost as bad," said Jean. "But isn't this just like +Florence? Her two have cuddled up side by side, and are blazing +away in a corner, all by themselves." "Look at Polly's and mine," +said Molly. "We have joined hands. We must be going to live +together, all four of us." + +"In a New York tenement house," suggested Alan unkindly. + +"No such thing," returned Polly. "Molly shall keep house, and I'll +board with her. I hope my man will be proprietor of a restaurant, +though," she added, in an aside to Alan. + +Suddenly there came a wail from Jessie. + +"Girls, girls! Just look at mine!" + +"Where are they?" asked Molly. + +"Here." And Jessie pointed tragically to one side of the tub, +where the blue candle lay at the bottom of the sea, and the pink +one, though still floating above it, had burned out and tilted to +one side in an attitude of profound dejection. + + "'Where was Moses when the light went out? + Where was Moses, what was he about?'" + +sang Alan teasingly. + +But even while he was singing, an energetic wave from Jean's side +overturned his own small ships and left them floating bottom +upwards. + +"Just my luck!" he remarked, as he rose. "I knew I should come to +some untimely end. As Poll says, I don't believe in signs, +anyway." + +The chocolate and wafers had been passed, and the fateful loaf of +cake had been cut, bringing the ring to Florence, and the thimble, +fitting symbol of single blessedness, to Jean; and still there was +time for a little more of the fun. Some one suggested a game of +forfeits, and a pile of them was soon collected, to be held over +the head of Jessie who was chosen judge, as being the youngest +girl present. Her ingenuity was endless, and she kept them +laughing over her ridiculous fines, until nearly all had been +redeemed. + +"Only two or three more," said Jean encouragingly. "Here's one of +them, now." + +"Fine or superfine?" + +"Fine." + +"Fine? Let's see, I know whose 'tis," meditated Jessie. "Oh, I +haven't any ideas left! Let him. + + "'Bow to the wittiest, + Kneel to the prettiest, + And kiss the one he loves best.'" + +Like most sensible mothers, Mrs. Adams had a horror of anything +like kissing games; and now she frowned a little, in spite of +herself. No one of the V, she felt sure, would have pronounced +this fine. She turned to glance at Alan who stood for a moment, +blushing as his eye moved over the group. Then he walked up to +Polly and bowed low, passed on to Katharine's chair where he +dropped on one knee, and then, walking straight to Mrs. Adams, he +bent down and kissed her cheek with a heartiness which was not all +play. She put out her hand and drew him down on the sofa, at her +side. + +"Thank you, dear," she whispered. "It was a pretty compliment, and +we old people enjoy such things, you may be sure." + +"It was true," said Alan simply, as he settled himself beside her +with a confiding, little-boyish motion. + +The last forfeit had not been redeemed, when the heavy portieres +swung open, and a figure swathed in dark draperies and with a veil +over her face came slowly into the room. The girls gazed +doubtfully at this ghostly apparition, till a brown hand--was +extended and a deep voice spoke from under the veil,-- + +"I am here to reveal the future. To-night is the time to know the +secret of your coming lives. Let the oldest advance first." + +Katharine, still a little in awe of the mysterious stranger, +stepped forward and laid her hand on the dark one before her. The +being scanned it closely. + +"A long life," she said, "and a happy one, for you will slowly +learn the joy of doing good to those around you and forgetting +yourself for others. Then, wherever you go, you will be surrounded +with friends and your name will long be remembered." + +Katharine smiled, as she stepped back and Jean took her place. + +"You will have the best possession the earth can give, a contented +mind. I see in the future a little house presided over by a +strong, quiet woman whose life is in her home." + +Then Molly's turn came. Her fate was quickly spoken. + +"Yours is a husband six feet tall, and your children will number +nineteen, as they sit about your meagre table." + +Molly groaned, as she yielded her place to Florence. + +"I see a lordly house, richly furnished and filled with servants. +Within is a devoted husband who watches over a wife with golden +hair." + +"How elegant!" said Polly. "Now it's my turn." And she held out +her hand with a smile. + +"You will suffer much and have much happiness," the voice went on. +"You will love deeply and be loved in return, and the end will +more than repay the beginning." + +"Isn't that queer!" And Polly withdrew, to ponder on her mystical +fortune. + +"Now Jessie," said Mrs. Adams; "see what fate has in store for +you." + +"I'm half afraid," she said, laughing. + +"Love, happiness, and sunshine," was what she heard. "A tiny +cottage simply furnished with a teapot and eleven cats." + +There was a shout. + +"Now, Alan." + +The brown hand trembled a little, and the eyes under the veil +looked right into Alan's, as she spoke. "Some pain, much joy; a +slow, even growth into a glorious manhood that knows no wrong, but +lives for truth. Whatever else maybe is hidden from my sight." + +"What a splendid one, Alan!" exclaimed Polly, her face flushing, +as she took in all the meaning of the words. + +And Katharine added quietly,-- + +"You have read us very well, Aunt Ruth." + +"Mamma?" exclaimed Molly and Alan, in a breath. + +"Yes, mamma," answered Mrs. Hapgood's voice, as she quickly shed +her wrappings. "I thought I would have a finger in this pie, too. +But how did you know me so soon, Katharine?" + +"I knew nobody else would say what you did, for it was just a part +of our talk the other day," she replied, as she unpinned the thick +veil from Mrs. Hapgood's hair. + +"Good-night, Mrs. Adams," said Jean, as they stood grouped about +her in the hall. "This has been a lovely Hallowe'en, and I shall +always remember it, I know." + +"I hope you will, too, till next year," added Alan suggestively, +as he went out into the bright starlight. + +CHAPTER IX. + +THE NEW READING CLUB. + +"The beautiful summer of All Saints" was at its height, and the +soft haze lay upon the blue hills and rested lightly over the +meadows along the river. Such days were tempting enough to entice +a hermit from his cell, and Mrs. Adams and the young people had +agreed to devote Saturday afternoon to a long drive. Soon after +their early lunch they had started off, Job leading the way, with +Mrs. Adams, Jessie, Molly, and Jean, followed by Cob, the wiry +little mustang that Mr. Shepard had sent East for his daughters' +use, drawing Katharine, Florence, Polly, and Alan. Their +destination was the nearer of the two mountains, a drive to the +foot and then a scramble to the tip-top house, for the sake of one +last look down upon the beautiful valley, before winter should +shut it in. Unfortunately, Job was in one of his languid moods +that day, and in spite of warning checks and flapping of lines, +and even a mild application of the whip, he refused to break into +a trot; but, with bowed head and discouraged mien, he plodded +onward with as much apparent effort as if each motion of his aged +frame were to be his last. In vain Katharine again and again +reined in Cob, to wait for his companion; the old horse lagged +farther and farther in the rear. At length Mrs. Adams called,-- + +"This is unbearable, Katharine! I am afraid we shall have to give +up and go home. Job acts as if he couldn't crawl another step. I'm +sorry," she added to her passengers, "to spoil our plan, but I +dare not drive this old fellow any further, for fear he might +never get home." + +But even the turning back again failed to inspire Job as it +usually did. In her secret heart, Mrs. Adams regarded this as an +ominous symptom, and felt an ever-increasing anxiety lest he +should never reach home alive. They were less than two miles from +the town, but it was a long hour before Job dragged his weary way +up the street, in at the gate, and tottered feebly up to the open +door of the barn. By making little side excursions up and down the +country, the other carriage had managed to keep respectfully in +the rear; and Katharine now tied Cob outside the gate, while the +others crowded around Job to watch with pitying eyes, as Mrs. +Adams unharnessed this feeble veteran who had probably gone on his +final march. The last strap was unbuckled and allowed to fall to +the ground, while Mrs. Adams invitingly held up the worn old +halter, to slip it on Job's nose. Perhaps she was slower than +usual, perhaps some sudden thought of a neglected opportunity shot +through Job's brain. However that might be, there was a quick +scattering of the group, as two iron-shod heels flew up into the +air, the brown head was playfully tossed from side to side, and +Job, the feeble, the lifeless, went frisking away across the lawn, +now galloping furiously up and down, with a lofty disregard of the +holes he was tearing in the soft, dry turf, now stopping to roll +on his back and kick his aged legs ecstatically in the air, with +all the joyous abandonment of a young colt, then scrambling up +again, to go pounding away, straight across a brilliant bed of +chrysanthemums and only pausing, for a moment, to gaze pensively +out over the front gate. + +"Whoa, Job! Whoa, boy!" Mrs. Adams was calling in vain, while Jean +exclaimed spitefully,-- + +"Mean old thing! I'll never be sorry for him again! I didn't lean +back all the time we were gone, but just sat on the very front +edge of the seat and tried to make myself as light as I could." + +Then followed an exciting chase, for Job appeared to have regained +all the agility of his far-off ancestors that roamed the plains at +their own sweet will. Such sudden wheelings! Such wild leaps! Such +frantic kicks! He refused to be coaxed; he cocked up his ears in +derisive scorn when they scolded him and requested him to whoa. He +had no intention of whoaing. He recognized from afar that a snare +lay hidden somewhere in the measure of oats which Mrs. Adams held +out before him, and he drew back his lips in a contemptuous smile, +as he capered away to the remotest corner of the grounds. The +pursuit lasted for an hour, and at the end of that time, Job +appeared to be far fresher than his pursuers, fresher even than he +had been at the start. + +It was plain that nothing was to be gained in this way, so Mrs. +Adams and the girls retired to the house to take counsel, leaving +Alan to drive Job to the stable, and come back to dinner with the +others. + +"I am tired, if he isn't," sighed Mrs. Adams, dropping into a +chair by the window overlooking the lawn. + +"Has he ever done it before?" asked Florence sympathetically. + +"Never with me; but he used to get away from John, when he was +younger. Now he has started, I am afraid he will repeat the +experiment, he has had such a good time to-day. It just makes me +want to whip him!" And Mrs. Adams glared out at the unconscious +Job who was quietly cropping a tuft of green grass. + +It may be that the stolen fruit was not so sweet to his tongue as +Job had expected, or his conscience may at length have begun to +act once more. He slowly raised his head and gazed longingly up +and down the street, as if yearning to try a wider field for his +gymnastics. Then apparently his sense of duty carried the day for, +turning reluctantly, he plodded away to the open stable door, and +quietly marched into his accustomed place. + +"Run, Polly, quick! Run and fasten the door!" her mother +exclaimed, as she hurried away to tie up the prodigal, to prevent +any fresh wanderings. + +When the doctor came home to dinner and heard the story, he was +merciless in his teasing. + +"One woman, six girls, and one boy, all to be outwitted by one +poor old horse twenty-nine years old! "he exclaimed. + +"Now, that's not so!" interposed his wife. + +"Job isn't but twenty-three, so don't put any more years on his +devoted head." + +Dr. Adams laughed. He took a sinful pleasure in reminding his wife +of Job's advanced age. + +"Twenty-nine last June," he said, as he gave Polly her second +piece of meat. "If you are careful of him and keep him for a few +years longer, you can sell him out at a high price, to be +exhibited as a curiosity." + +"Sell Job! Never!" protested Mrs. Adams. "I would almost as soon +sell Polly. No money could ever make up for that old fellow's +intelligence, and for the real love he gives me." + +"Yes," added Alan sympathetically; "and no money could buy his +obedience to you, this afternoon, when he was loose." + +While the table was being cleared for the dessert, the doctor +suddenly turned to his daughter. + +"Well, Polly," he asked; "how comes on the reading club?" + +"Finely, papa. Why?" + +"I didn't know but you were tired of it, by this time, and wanted +something else." + +"Oh, no; we have such good times," said Jean enthusiastically. +"And if we gave it up, you never would get your stockings darned, +either." + +"Oh!" And the doctor lapsed into silence. + +"What made you ask, papa?" inquired Polly. + +"Mere curiosity." + +"I know better than that," she said, seizing his hand as it lay on +the table. "Now, popsy Adams, you just tell us what you are +driving at." + +"What is the use?" asked the doctor provokingly. "I did have +another plan; but if you are all satisfied, I'll offer it to some +of the other girls, or perhaps Aunt Jane will take it in charge." + +This was too much for Polly. + +"Do tell us," she begged. "We'll do it too, whatever it is; won't +we girls?" + +"But what if it is something that isn't funny at all, something +for which you have to give up your own good times?" + +Polly's face fell, but she answered steadily,-- + +"We'll do it, just the same." + +"I am glad to hear you say so," remarked Aunt Jane approvingly. "I +have felt that it was high time you girls were made to take an +interest in something really useful." + +"What is it, Dr. Adams?" implored Jessie, whose curiosity was by +this time fired. + +"Well, it's just this: down in the hospital there's a girl about +Katharine's age shut up in a room by herself, where she must stay +a year. She isn't pretty; she isn't especially bright; she is an +Irish girl from one of the hill towns in the northern part of the +state. But she has something the matter with her back, so all she +can do is to lie there on a sort of frame, and look at the wall of +her room." + +The doctor paused. While he had been talking, he had watched the +faces of the girls, curious to see the effect which his short +story would have on them. Polly's cheeks were flushed, Jean's eyes +were shining with her interest, but Katharine's lashes drooped on +her cheek, and were a little moist. He nodded approvingly to +himself, as he looked at her. + +"Go on, papa," urged Polly. + +"There isn't much more to say," returned her father, resting his +arm on the back of her chair. "It occurred to me to-day to wonder +if you girls couldn't each of you take a day a week,--there are +just the six of you, you know,--and run in to see her for a few +minutes after school. She is perfectly well, except for her back, +and you can imagine how dull it must be for her there. Now, +suppose you could drop in for half an hour and get acquainted with +her, or read something simple to her? She's not up to 'Pilgrim's +Progress' yet." And he pinched Polly's cheek playfully. + +He stopped again. This time there was a murmur of assent from his +hearers. Then he resumed,-- + +"Now, talk this over among yourselves and see what you think of +it. I don't say you ought to do it, remember; you all have a good +deal to do, I know. I only suggest the chance to you. I would +think of it well, for unless you could be regular, it might be +worse than nothing, for she would come to depend on it, and be +disappointed. I warn you, she isn't very attractive, she is only +ill and lonely." + +"What's her name?" asked Florence, as the doctor started to leave +the table. + +"Bridget O'Keefe." + +"What!" And in spite of herself, Jessie wrinkled her nose in +disgust. + +"Yes, I told you she was Irish, you know," answered the doctor +briskly. "Now I must be off. Think it over till Monday and then +let me know." + +And a moment later, the front door shut behind him. + +Aunt Jane went out after dinner, and Mrs. Adams made an excuse to +leave the girls to themselves. Gathered around the parlor fire, +they had an animated discussion, and, with many a practical +suggestion from Alan, their plan of work was agreed upon. Each was +to take her own day, and give up half an hour after school to a +call on this other girl, who was condemned to lie still and know +that the world was going on around her just as usual. There was no +difficulty in planning for the first five days of the week; but +the girls, though fired with a desire to do good, yet drew back +from pledging themselves to break into their Saturday afternoons, +the one holiday of the week. + +"What's the use of going Saturday?" said Florence. "If we go to +see her every other day but that, it ought to be enough." + +"I don't want any half-way work," said Jean decidedly, "and yet, +it does seem too bad to upset our fun when we've always been +together. What if we draw lots for it?" + +But Alan objected. + +"That's kind of a shirky way to do. If I'm ever ill, I don't want +you drawing lots which shall go to my funeral. I'll go Saturday, +myself." + +"You can't, Alan; you aren't a girl," said Molly. "No," added +Katharine, as she leaned over to lay her small, slim hand on his; +"the boy can't go, but he can teach the girls a lesson in +generosity. I'll take Saturday myself, girls." + +Alan turned to her impulsively. + +"Good for you, Kit!" he said warmly. "I'm proud to have you for a +cousin." + +Katharine laughed lightly. + +"It's nothing, after all. I have more time than most of you, and +it's only a little while, anyway." + +It was only a little thing, as Katharine had said, but by it she +gained far more than the one short half-hour a week would ever +cost her; and, too, from that time onward, Alan looked on his +cousin with a new admiration which her beauty and her attempts to +win his liking could never have brought. + +The girls entered into their work heartily, charmed by the novelty +of their experiment. It was an unknown sensation to them to feel +sure that some one was eagerly listening for their step in the +outer room, to see the dull, plain face before them brighten with +a new life, as they came through the door. For the first few +weeks, they begged to be allowed to prolong the half-hour; but the +doctor, mindful of the fate of "Pilgrim's Progress," and knowing +that a reaction would probably come, checked their zeal, and only +encouraged their shorter visits. How much good they did to their +young patient, they never knew. The healthy, out-of-door +atmosphere which they brought in, their scraps of news, and their +gay chatter did as much to brighten the rest of the long, lonely +days, as the one or two pictures they brought did towards +beautifying the plain, white walls of the little room where +Bridget was learning her lesson of patience. Still less did they +realize how much they themselves were gaining from the quiet half- +hour in the corner of the great hospital. The little self- +sacrifice, the interest in this girl so far removed from their +usual world, their girlish desire to gain her liking, and the +womanly tact which was needed to win her from her rough shyness, +all these had their influence on their young maidenhood, an +influence which lasted far on through their lives. + +And by degrees their interest widened. At first they had shrunk +from the suffering around them, dreading and almost fearing to +look on its outward signs. But as they became more accustomed to +the place and its associations, they no longer hurried along the +corridors, with their eyes fixed on the ground; but glanced in, +now and again, through some open door, to see the long lines of +little beds and the white-capped nurses moving quietly about the +room, or sewing cosily by the sunny window. Winter was not half +over before the girls used to turn aside, now to spend a few +moments among the forlorn midgets in the children's ward, then to +pass slowly along through the accident ward, giving a pleasant +word or two in exchange for the smiles that never failed to greet +their coming. Each one of them had her own particular circle of +friends whom she gravely discussed with the doctor, learning much +of the history and needs of these fellow-beings, for whom, until +lately, they had thought and cared so little. Molly and Jessie +devoted themselves to the little girls, Polly lavished all her +attentions on three or four small boys, while the others preferred +the older patients. But all this was only incidental, and the +girls considered Bridget as their especial property, the younger +ones regarding her as a superior sort of toy, to take the place of +the dolls which they had cast aside. + +However, Katharine, who was older and more mature than the others, +had come to understand Bridget and to be friends with her, before +any of the others. At first she could feel nothing but repugnance +for this uncultivated, unwholesome-looking girl, a repugnance +which she struggled hard to conceal; but, little by little, as she +talked to her, she was won by her quiet endurance and courage. At +length, one day, Katharine coaxed the girl's story from her, how +she was left an orphan with younger children to care for; how she +had fallen and hurt her back; how she had strained it with +overwork, when it was still weak; how she had struggled to keep +on, until the doctor had brought her where she was; and how she +must hurry to get well, in order to earn money to pay the +neighbors for caring for the little children. It was a homely tale +and simply told; but when it was ended, Katharine was surprised to +find her eyes full of tears, as she bent over and touched her lips +to the girl's forehead. "I am glad you told me this, Bridget," she +said. "Now we can talk about it together, and it will make us +better friends." + +And Bridget answered gratefully, as she looked up into the clear +eyes above her own,--"Thank you, miss. It's nice to have a body +know all about it. Somehow it helps along." + +Three weeks later, as Katharine went into the room and dropped two +or three scarlet carnations on the girl's idle hand, she was +saluted with exciting news. + +"A letter from home, to-day, Miss, and somebody has sent money +enough to pay the children's board for ever and ever so long; and +they don't know at all who it is. Isn't it wonderful!" + +Not so wonderful, perhaps, as it appeared to the simple girl. No +one but Katharine and her parents ever saw the letter that went +hurrying westward to remind her father that Christmas was coming, +and to tell him in what way she would prefer to take her present. +The secret was kept, and no thanks were ever spoken; but Katharine +cared for none. It was enough to watch the girl's happy content, +now that her one anxiety was removed. Mrs. Hapgood, alone, had a +suspicion, when Molly told her of the affair; but she wisely asked +no questions, and in silence rejoiced over the broader sympathy +her niece was daily gaining. + +"How queer it is, the way things are divided up!" Katharine said +to Molly, one day when they were out driving. + +It was a clear, cold December day, and Cob trotted briskly over +the frozen ground, as if he too, as well as the girls themselves, +were enjoying the air and motion. + +"What is divided up?" asked Molly vaguely, rousing herself from a +half-formed plan for Alan's Christmas present. + +"Oh, everything,--at least, everything isn't divided," returned +Katharine a little incoherently. "Some of us have so much more fun +out of things than other people do. There's us; and then there's +Bridget and that little pet of Polly's, Dicky what's-his-name. You +know the one I mean. And then, just in our set, there's ever so +much difference. Jessie and I have everything we want, and Jean +has to pinch and scrimp; Jean is as strong as a bear, and Alan +can't do anything at all, without being laid up to pay for it; +Polly wails for a family of young brothers, and Jean has more of +them to take care of than the old woman that lived in a shoe. Now +what's the reason things are so mixed up, I'd like to know." + +"I can't see why myself," said Molly, tucking in the robe about +herself and her cousin. "Maybe, if we knew all about it, they +aren't as mixed up as they seem." + +"Yes, they are," Katharine insisted. "If they weren't, some people +wouldn't have everything, and some go without, as they do. I don't +suppose there is much of anything in the world I couldn't do, if I +wanted to, and tried hard enough for it; but everybody isn't so." + +"I have sort of an idea," answered Molly profoundly, "that most +everybody can get what she wants, if she is willing to work and +wait long enough. It's only a question of what you want." + +CHAPTER X. + +POLLY'S POEM. + +"Molly, don't you want to come and take a walk with me?" asked +Polly, appearing in the door one Saturday morning. + +Molly sprang up and tossed her book down on the table. + +"Yes, indeed I do. It's too pleasant to stay in the house such a +day as this. I'll go and call the others." + +"But I don't want the others, at least, not this morning," said +Polly mysteriously. "I want you all to myself, for I've something +to tell you, to show you.". Polly blushed and stammered a little. + +"What is it, Poll?" asked Molly curiously. + +"Oh, nothing much; at least, I'll tell you by and by. Go and get +your hat, and come on." + +"The Bridget Society" as Alan disrespectfully called it, had been +in operation for about two weeks now; but though it had proved an +absorbing subject to the girls, yet it took very little of their +time, and left them nearly as free as ever for their usual +occupations. Their common interest in the one work, however, had +bound the six girls even more closely together than before, until +they depended on one another's help and sympathy, in any and every +question that arose. + +It was a clear, bracing day, so cold that the white frost was +still glittering on the grass-blades in the more sheltered +corners, so clear that the bare, rough ledges of the western +mountain looked so near that one could toss a stone up to the pile +of broken rocks which marked the line of their bases; while far +across the river valley, the sun lay warm upon the roofs and +towers of the town nestling on the hillside, and touched with a +golden light the tall, slender spire of the little church. The +girls walked briskly away through the town and out towards the +river, a mile away. Polly appeared to be unusually excited, +whether by the crisp air or by her new winter coat, Molly was at a +loss to decide. It was a fine day, surely; but the more Molly +studied the long dark-blue coat trimmed with chinchilla, and the +saucy little blue cap edged with the same soft fur, and cocked on +the back of Polly's curls, she came to the conclusion that Polly's +spirits were affected by her becoming suit. That being the case, +it was plainly her duty to remove Polly's worldly pride. + +"Do try to walk like a civilized being, Polly!" she exclaimed, as +her friend suddenly pounced into the midst of a flock of hens that +were pluming themselves in a sunny fence-corner. "People will +think you're crazy, if you act so." + +"Well, what if they do?" said Polly, laughing. "I don't care what +they think, I wanted to astonish those hens. Shoo!" And she +charged upon them again, brandishing a dry stick which she had +picked up by the roadside. + +In spite of herself Molly laughed as she clutched her friend +firmly by the elbow and dragged her onward, out of temptation's +way. + +"You'll have the jailer and the fire department out after you," +she said, as she guided Polly's erring footsteps back into the +concrete path of virtue. "Do come along! Besides, you had +something to tell me." + +Polly's face grew suddenly grave, and the hot blood rushed to her +cheeks. When she spoke, her voice was trembling with suppressed +excitement. + +"Wait till we get out on the bridge, Molly," she begged. "We'll be +all alone there." + +So it wasn't the new coat, after all. Molly's brow cleared. + +"How queer you are, Polly!" she said. "I can't stand it to wait, I +am so wild to know. Come on, let's have a race to the bridge, +then." + +"But you just said I mustn't run," protested Polly, hanging back. + +"Not after hens, when the owner is looking on," answered Molly; +"but it's our own affair, if we want to run a race. Come on." + +She threw the last word back over her shoulder as she went darting +away, followed by Polly who soon passed her, laughing and +breathless. In the middle of the long, white bridge she stopped +and looked about her, struck by the beauty of the familiar scene +around, the soft hills at the north, the shining, river as it +wound along through the russet meadow grass, and cut its way +between the southern mountains, over which slowly flitted the +clouds above. A few belated crows rose and sank down again over +the deserted corn-fields, while, from the red house on the river +bank, the great black dog barked an answer to their hoarse cries. +No other living thing was in sight as Molly joined her friend, and +they stood leaning against the iron rail, with their backs turned +to the cutting wind that came down upon them from the northern +hills. + +"Now, Polly." And Molly paused expectantly. + +From rosy red, Polly's face grew very white, and her breath came +short and hurried. She hesitated for an instant, then plunged her +mittened hand into her coat pocket, and pulled out a dingy sheet +of paper whose folds, worn till they were transparent, showed the +marks of long service. With trembling hands, she smoothed it out, +tearing it a little, in her excitement. Then she turned to Molly. + +"Now, Molly Hapgood," she said solemnly; "will you promise never +to tell, if I tell you something that there doesn't anybody else +know, that I've never even shown to mamma?" + +"Go on, Polly!" urged her friend impatiently, trying to steal a +glance at the worn-out sheet, which was covered with Polly's +irregular, childish writing. But Polly edged cautiously away. + +"Now remember," she said again; "you're the only single soul in +the world that knows this, Molly; and I am telling you my secret +because I know you love me. I've--" there was a catch in her +breath--"I've written a poem!" + +"Really!" And Molly's eyes grew round with astonishment and +respectful awe. + +"Yes," Polly went on more calmly, now the great secret was out; "I +knew I could, and it was just as easy as could be." + +"How did you ever know how?" inquired Molly, with a vague idea +that she had never before appreciated this gifted friend. + +"I didn't know how, at first," answered Polly, kindly exposing her +methods of work to her friend's gaze. "I just knew that there +ought to be some rhymes, and then I must say something or other to +fill up the lines. One Sunday in church I read lots of hymns,-- +Aunt Jane wasn't there, you know,--and then I went to work." + +"Are you going to have it printed?" asked Molly. + +"Not yet," said Polly. "I thought at first I would send it to the +_News_, but I've a better plan. I'm going to copy it all out, +and write my name on it and my age and how I came to write it, and +put it away. After I'm dead and famous, somebody will find it, and +it will be printed. Then people will make a fuss over it and call +me a child prodigy and all sorts of nice things." + +"But what's the use?" queried Molly. "When you're all nicely dead +and buried, it can't do you any good." + +"But just think how proud my children and grandchildren will be!" +exclaimed Polly enthusiastically. + +"Maybe you won't have any," suggested Molly sceptically. "People +that write are generally old maids, unless they are men." + +Polly's face fell. Here was a flaw in her plans. + +"Well, go on," said Molly. "Aren't you going to read it?" + +Polly looked at the paper in her hand, cleared her throat +nervously, drew a long breath, and cleared her throat again. + +"What's the matter?" asked Molly unsympathetically. She had never +written a poem, and had no idea of the mingled fear and pride that +were waging war in Polly's mind. She spoke as the calm critic who +waits to sit in judgment. + +"I'm just going to begin now," said Polly faintly. Then, nerving +herself to the task, she read aloud,-- + + "The children went chestnutting once, + Out in the woods to stay all day, + There's Maude and Sue and James and Kate, + All there, for there's no school to-day." + + +Polly stopped to catch breath. + +"Where'd you get your names?" inquired Molly critically. + +Polly looked up with a startled air. + +"Why, out of my head, of course." + +"Oh, did you?" Molly's tone was not reassuring. "Go on," she +added. + +"Maybe you'll like the next verse better," faltered Polly. + + "The good, kind mothers pack the lunch + Of bread and butter, meat and cake, + So off they start at ten o'clock, + For it is hot when it is late." + + +This time, Polly found her friend looking at her, with a scornful +curl to her lips. + +"I thought you said it was a poem," she said, with cutting +emphasis; "but it sounds just exactly like a bill of fare." + +This was too much for Polly. Her temper flashed up like a fire +among dead twigs. + +"Molly Hapgood, you're as mean as mean can be, to make fun of me! +I've a good mind never to speak to you again as long as I live." + +As usual, the more Polly became excited, the more Molly grew cool +and collected. + +"Don't be a goose, Polly," she said provokingly. "You're no more +able to write a poem than Job is." + +"What do you mean?" demanded Polly, facing her friend with +gleaming eyes and frowning brow. + +"What do I mean!" echoed Molly mercilessly, "I mean just this: +your old poem isn't any poem at all. It doesn't rhyme more than +half way, and there's no more poetry about it than there is about +one of your freckles. Poetry is all about spring and clouds and +butterflies, or else death or--" Molly paused for an idea. Not +finding it, she hastily concluded, "Besides, I've heard something +just like that before." + +Polly choked down her rising sobs. + +"Very well," she said, through her clenched teeth. "This is all I +want of you, Molly Hapgood." + +Deliberately she pulled off her mittens and put them into her +pocket; then, with shaking hands and with her face drawn as if in +pain, but with her eyes steadily fixed on Molly's face, she slowly +tore the paper into long, narrow strips, gathered the strips +together and tore them into tiny squares, and defiantly threw them +away over the side of the bridge into the swift blue stream below. +But even before the first floating square had touched the surface +of the water, the reaction had set in, and Polly could have cried +for the loss of her first and only poem. For a moment, she gazed +after the white bits drifting away from her; then, biting her lip +to steady it and struggling to keep back the tears, she turned on +her heel, without a word, and walked away towards home, leaving +Molly to follow or not, as she chose. + +The tears came fast now, as she hurried on, avoiding the main +streets as best she could. No one was in sight when she reached +the house, so she could run up the stairs unnoticed, and throw +herself down across the foot of the bed for a long, hearty cry. +She had hoped so much from Molly's sympathy! But, after all, now +the opportunity had come, the tears were not so ready as they had +been, and she did not feel quite so much as if the world had +abused her, as she did when she was standing on the bridge, +watching the white dots on the river below. At least, no great +harm was done, for she remembered the whole poem and could easily +write it out again. As this thought came to her, she sprang up +once more, seized a pencil and a bit of paper and rewrote the +words which had caused her so much joy and so much pain. She was +still sitting with her forehead resting on her clasped hands, +reading the verses over and over and dreaming of the future day +when fame should come to her, when she heard her mother's voice +outside. + +"Polly! Polly! are you there?" + +"Yes, I'm here," answered Polly, moving across the room to open +the door, with a secret hope that her mother would see that she +had been crying, and ask the reason of her tears. + +But Mrs. Adams was too intent on the matter in hand to give more +than a passing glance at her daughter. + +"Polly, Aunt Jane wants you to run down to Mrs. Hapgood's and ask +her if she can't take in some ministers next week, over the +convention. She would like her to take four, if she can." + +"Oh dear!" grumbled Polly. "I do wish Aunt Jane would go on her +own old errands, and not keep me running all over town for her." + +"Polly dear," Mrs. Adams's tone was very gentle; "Polly, aren't +you forgetting yourself a little?" + +"No, I'm not," returned Polly rebelliously. "I hate Aunt Jane." + +"Polly!" + +This time there was no mistaking her mother's meaning. After an +instant, she added,-- + +"I wish you to go at once, my daughter, and to go pleasantly. Aunt +Jane is a good, kind aunt to you." Polly raised her eyebrows, but +dared not speak; "and I am sorry you are so ungrateful as not to +be willing to do this little errand for her." + +Polly turned away and obediently started on her errand, but as she +went down the stairs, her mother heard her murmuring to herself +words that were not altogether complimentary to Aunt Jane and the +coming ministers. + +It was one of the days when everything went wrong, Polly said to +herself as she went out of the gate and down the silent street. +Molly had laughed at her, Aunt Jane had abused her, and, worst of +all, her mother had spoken to her more seriously than she had done +for a long time. That was the way it generally was with geniuses, +she thought, and reflected with a vindictive joy that some day or +other they would all be sorry for it. At this point she was +interrupted by hearing her name called in boyish tones,-- + +"Polly! Polly! I say, wait for a fellow; can't you?" + +Turning, she saw Alan running after her, with his overcoat waving +in the breeze and his soft felt hat pulled low on his forehead. + +"Where going?" he inquired briefly, as he overtook her and fell +into step by her side. + +"To your house," she answered as briefly, not yet able to return +to her usual sunny manner. + +"That's good," returned Alan cheerfully; then, as he surveyed her, +he added, "What's up, Polly? You don't seem to be particularly +festive this morning. Have you and Molly been having another pow- +wow?" + +"A little one," confessed Polly. + +"That's too bad," said Alan, with a paternal air of consolation. +"If Molly's been teasing you, I'll give her fits when she comes +back from Florence's. She's there now." + +"Oh, I suppose it was both of us," responded Polly, cheered by his +understanding of the situation. + +"I presume 'twas," said Alan candidly. "Molly is an awful tease; +she gets after me once in a while, so I know. You're snappish, +Poll; but you don't keep fussing at a fellow and hitting him when +he's down." + +They walked on in silence for a few steps. Then Alan remarked, as +he looked at her critically,-- + +"That's a gay little cap, Polly, and suits you first rate. New, +isn't it?" + +Polly nodded smilingly. Alan's sympathy had smoothed out all the +wrinkles in her temper, and she was once more her own merry self, +so by the time she went in at the Hapgood house, she was laughing +and talking as brightly as if she and Molly had never taken their +walk to the bridge. + +"Oh, dear!" sighed Jessie, as she glanced down from the window of +their room. "Here come Alan and Polly Adams. What a nuisance!" + +The two sisters, left to themselves for the morning, had been +having a private feast of lemonade and crackers in their own room, +where they had been alternately reading and nibbling, for the past +hour. + +"Why is it a nuisance?" inquired Katharine, getting up to look out +of the window, over her sister who was curled up in one of the +deep window-seats, regardless of the delicate frost ferns that +were thinly scattered over the panes. + +"Just see here," replied Jessie, as she stretched out her arm for +the pitcher and tilted it expressively, exposing to view a few +bare, dry slices of lemon in the bottom. "They'll be sure to come +up here, and it's rather shabby not to give them any." + +"I'd make some more," said Katharine, pensively surveying the +ruins of the feast; "but I put our very last lemon into this, and +I can't. Maybe they won't care for any, it's so cold," she added, +with an air of relief. + +"I'll tell you, put in some more water, and mix it up pretty +well," said Jessie hastily, as she heard Alan calling from below. +"It was almost too strong before, so it won't be so bad, and we +really ought to treat, I think." + +Katharine laughed silently, as she obeyed her sister's +instructions, while Jessie surveyed the operation with dancing +eyes. + +"Let's see," she said gravely, as she poured out a few drops into +a glass. + +With frowning solemnity she tasted it, then set down the glass +with an air of decision. + +"It's real good truly, Kit. I'll get out some more crackers, and +then you call them up. Boys are never very fussy, when it's +something to eat; and Polly will like the fun." And as she opened +the box and took out a fresh plateful of their dainty crackers, +Katharine invited up her guests who came willingly enough, never +dreaming of the straits to which their friends' hospitality had +put them. + +"Whose autograph album is this?" exclaimed Polly, pouncing on a +flaming red and gold volume that lay on the table. + +"It belongs to one of the girls up at school," answered Jessie. +"Just see here, and here, and here," she continued, turning over +the leaves and pointing to several well-known names. "You see, she +lives in Boston and her father knows all these people, so she +could get them." + +"How splendid!" And Polly bent over to gaze more closely on the +signature of a writer clear to all childish hearts. "I'd give +almost anything for that," she sighed. + +"Which is that?" asked Katharine, leaning over to glance at the +page. "Yes, I wouldn't much mind having that one. But, after all, +autograph albums are a bore. I used to care for them, years ago, +but they are all just alike. I had one friend who wrote the same +verse in every album she took, only she changed the name in it. +Have some more lemonade, Polly." And she waved the pitcher which +was nearly empty for the second time. + +"No, thank you," answered Polly gratefully; "but it's been ever so +good. I haven't had any since last summer, so this tasted better +than usual, and I always like it." + +"I am so glad," responded Katharine heartily, though with a sly +glance at her sister. + +"But I don't think autographs are stupid," said Jessie, returning +to the subject of the book in her hand. "I wish I had all these. +Why, sometimes they are sold and bring perfectly enormous prices." + +"I know that," said Katharine; "but they make ever so much fun of +the people that ask for them." + +"I don't care if they do," said Jessie; "I'm going to have one, +pretty soon, that will make you all envy me." + +"Whose?" asked Alan. + +"That's telling," responded Jessie mysteriously. + +"How are you going to get it?" inquired Polly. + +"I've asked for it," replied Jessie, with a knowing smile. + +"Is it somebody I know?" asked her sister. + +"No, not exactly; but it's somebody that everyone in this whole +world knows about." + +"Jessie Shepard, what crazy thing have you been doing?" demanded +Katharine. + +"I shan't tell." And Jessie shut her lips defiantly. + +"Oh, come on, Jessie, tell us," urged Alan, while Katharine +added,-- + +"If you don't tell me, Jessie, I shall speak to auntie. I know you +have done something you are ashamed of." + +Jessie laughed good-naturedly. + +"Don't be silly and make such a fuss over nothing, Kit. I only +wanted to tease you a little; I'd just as soon tell as not. I'll +give you each a guess, and then, if you don't get it, I'll tell +you. That's fair, isn't it? Who'll you guess, Kit?" + +"Oliver Wendell Holmes," said Katharine promptly. + +Jessie smiled disdainfully. + +"Wrong. What should I want of him?" + +"I should think anybody would want him," returned Katharine. "He's +the greatest person I could think of; and besides, you've just +been studying about him." + +"Well, he isn't the one," said Jessie. "Go on, Alan." + +"The President of these United States," suggested Alan pompously. + +"Never!" responded Jessie fervently. "I'm a Democrat, you know, so +I don't want him. But you're in the right track. Polly, who is +it?" + +"General Grant," said Polly. + +"He died ever so long ago, Polly," corrected Alan. + +"Oh, yes, so he did. Well, let's see. The Mayor of Omaha?" + +"No! No! No!" said Jessie. "I didn't say it was a man, any way. +It's a woman; she's an English-man and she's a queen." + +"Jessie!" And Katharine dropped into a chair, too much horrified +to say more. + +"You don't mean to say," queried Polly, "that you've been and gone +and asked Queen Victoria to send you her autograph?" + +Jessie nodded triumphantly. + +"Well, she won't," returned Polly, with deliberate emphasis, while +Alan laughed, and laughed again at the absurd idea. + +Then Jessie showed her trump card. + +"Yes, she will," she said, with a firmness born of conviction; +"she will too, for I put in a two-cent stamp for her to answer +with. There!" + +CHAPTER XI + +JEAN'S CHRISTMAS EVE. + +Christmas mystery was in the air. For weeks the girls had been +busy over all sorts of gay trifles which were whisked out of +sight, now and then, to avoid some particular pair of curious eyes +that were not intended to see them until the proper moment came. + +"What's the use of making such a time about it?" inquired Alan, in +some disgust one day. + +He had rushed breathlessly into the room to announce the first +skating of the season, and was greeted with four protesting +voices, as the girls tried to cover up the stripes of the afghan +they were making for his own especial use. + +"Making such a time about it, you heathen!" retorted Polly, diving +after a ball of golden-yellow wool; "you know perfectly well that +all the fun of Christmas is in surprising people. I'd rather have +a paper of pins, and have the fun of being astonished over it, +than get the most elegant present in creation and know all about +it beforehand." + +"That's all very fine, Poll; but I haven't been able to come near +you girls for a month, without your all howling at me," objected +Alan. "Now, of course I know you aren't doing all this for me, but +you won't let me see anything. I'll start up some secrets, too; +see if I don't!" + +"Poor boy, does he want to see?" said Katharine protectingly. +"Well, I'll show you one thing, Alan, if you'll promise not to +tease any more." + +"Depends on what 'tis," returned Alan grudgingly. "One is better +than nothing, so go ahead." + +Katharine gathered up her work under the light shawl which lay +across her shoulders, and went away out of the room. Presently she +came back again, with a pile of something soft and red in her +arms. + +"There now!" she said, shaking out the folds with conscious pride. +"This is our grandest secret of all. It's a dressing-gown for +Bridget, and we girls have cut and made it ourselves, every +stitch. It's well made, too; you can look, if you know enough to +judge." + +"We!" echoed Polly. "Katharine has done 'most all of the work." + +Alan eyed it critically. + +"I say, that's something worth having," he remarked. "I wish I was +Miss O'Finnigan; I know that color would be becoming to me, and +it's so soft and warm." And before the girls could guess his +intention, he had slipped on the long, loose garment, and was +parading up and down the room in it, with all the airs of a young +peacock. + +"Tell me some more," he implored them; "tell me what you were +doing when I came in." + +"Never!" said Jessie sternly. "You know more now than you deserve. +You'll have to wait for the rest." + +"A whole week?" groaned Alan. "I never can stand it. Never you +mind, though; I know one thing you don't, and I was going to tell +you, and now I shan't. It's something awfully nice, too, and it's +about Christmas." + +"Tell me, Alan," said Katharine. "You know I showed you this, so +it's only fair you should let me be the one to hear your secret." + +"All right, Kit; I'll tell you for the sake of making the rest +jealous." And Alan glared defiantly at the other girls, as he bent +over and whispered a few words in Katharine's ear. + +"Really, Alan? What fun!" + +"Isn't it?" And they exchanged significant smiles. + +"Where's Jean, these days?" inquired Alan, a few minutes later, as +he settled himself on the sofa, with his shoes on the pillow. "I +haven't seen her for a coon's age." + +"Poor Jean!" said Polly. "She's having a hard time. Ever since her +father had that fall, two weeks ago, Mrs. Dwight has been busy +with taking care of him, and Jean has had to do all the work, and +see to those four boys, besides." + +"That's hard luck," said Alan sympathetically. + +"I did feel so sorry for her, the other day," said Jessie, moving +into the sofa corner to let Alan rest his yellow head in her lap. +"I asked her what she was going to do Christmas, and she said, +'Nothing at all.' She laughed; she always does that, but she +looked as sober as could be, and it did sound so forlorn." + +There was a silence throughout the group for a moment. + +"I say!" exclaimed Alan so suddenly that Jessie, who was bending +over to part his hair into little squares, started violently. + +"Well?" inquired Molly, who was tranquilly rocking back and forth +by the window. + +"I say, girls, let's give her a Christmas surprise." "Good, Alan!" +And Jessie sprang up in an excited fashion that nearly dislocated +the boy's neck. "This is the best plan yet. It's ever so much more +fun than Bridget; and Jean is working so hard now, that she needs +a little good time to make up for it. What shall we do?" + +"Oh, have some kind of a lark Christmas eve," answered Alan. "We +can't do it Christmas day because--Well, I may as well tell the +rest of you--mamma has just asked Polly and all the other Adamses +to come here for dinner and the evening, so we can have our fun, +all of us together." + +"Oh-h-h!" remarked Polly rapturously. + +"So you see," the boy went on; "whatever we do must come in on the +night before; but I think we could manage it. Let's call mamma in, +to take counsel." + +"Would Florence help us along, I wonder," said Jessie +thoughtfully. + +"Yes, I know she will," Katharine responded quickly; "I'll answer +for her. We'll have to work, girls, to get this done, with all our +other plans; but I am sure we can do it." + +"Oh, dear! I've got to finish up my scrapbook for my hospital +boys," sighed Polly; "and the corners peel up faster than I can +stick them down." + +"I'll do it for you, Polly," Alan offered. "I can't sew, but I can +stick beautifully." + +"That's so," said Molly, in an undertone to Polly. "He upset the +mucilage bottle into the dictionary, the other day, and now we +have to take a knife and pry, if we want to look up anything from +I to Q." + +"Oh, Polly, I almost forgot to tell you," said Alan suddenly. "I +was coming up past your house, just now, and saw Mr. Baxter going +in at the gate. You'd better hurry home, and tell him something +more about Job." + +Polly laughed at the memory. + +"He has called once since then," she said. "I don't see what has +started his doing that, and he comes to see Aunt Jane, of all +people. This time I was telling about, he went on in the queerest +way about his children, as if he didn't care anything for them. I +wish you could have heard him. He said that they had very peculiar +dispositions, and his wife never did know how to bring them up. +But go call your mother, there's a dear boy. I do want to plan +about Jean." + +For the next hour there was held a council into which Mrs. Hapgood +entered with spirit, restraining the girls' ardor, offering all +manner of assistance, and making many a useful suggestion for the +success of their frolic, which was to be extended to include +something for the little brothers, as well as for Jean. There was +no time to be lost, for there was only a week before Christmas, +and there was much to be done. At dinner time the girls separated, +with many vows of secrecy. + +Christmas fell on Thursday that year. It had been cloudy all the +early part of the week, and on Wednesday morning Jean had opened +her eyes in the cold, gray dawn, to see the air filled with +whirling snowflakes that went dancing and skurrying this way and +that before the noisy wind. Such a tempting morning to pull the +blankets over one's shoulders and nestle down for another nap! But +there was no such luxury for Jean; she scarcely had time to +realize that this was the dawn of the Christmas eve. A careless +step on a slippery roof, a cutting wind which had numbed him too +much to let him save himself, these had given her father a bad +fall so that work was out of the question for a long time to come. +Her mother was busy caring for her husband and doing a little +sewing at odd moments, so the main charge of the house and of the +children had fallen on Jean's strong young shoulders, which were +bearing the load with a merry willingness that is so much more +helpful than mere patient endurance. And really, if it had not +been for Christmas, Jean would not have minded it so much. But it +was hard to think of the fun the other girls were having over +their mysterious plans; and though she had no time to join them, +in fancy she pictured their merry afternoons together, while Alan +dodged about them, pretending to pry and peep into the carefully +covered work-baskets. Harder still it was to imagine the +disappointment of her own young brothers, when Christmas morning +should reveal the empty little stockings that Santa Claus had +forgotten to fill. + +"No, Jean," Mrs. Dwight had said sadly; "we can't have any +Christmas this year. I'm sorry to disappoint you and the children; +but with the uncertainty about father's going to work again, I +feel that it would be really wrong for us to use our money for +presents, when before winter is over, we may have to borrow some +for food or clothes." + +And Jean saw the right of it. Still, she cried herself to sleep +that night, not so much for herself, as for the boys who had +talked of the children's fur-clad saint for a month past. But by +the next morning, Jean's inspiration had come. As soon as her work +was done, she shut herself into her room and ransacked her few +small stores. At least the boys should not be disappointed she +thought, as she selected this treasure and that from the meagre +number which she had hoarded with such care. A little planning and +contriving changed them to fit the present need, and Jean had put +them away until Christmas eve with the happy certainty that, at +any rate, the toes of the stockings would bulge a little, even if +the legs hung empty and lean. + +But now it was the morning of Christmas eve, and breakfast was +waiting until Jean should get it ready, so she sprang up and +hastily dressed herself. Then, with her cheeks glowing from the +shock of the icy water, and her fingers aching with cold, she ran +across the hall to rouse the boys. But they were sitting up in +bed, calling back and forth to each other through the open door +between their rooms, in all the joyous excitement of the +approaching Christmas tide; so Jean only stopped to caution them +not to disturb their father, and hurried away down-stairs, to +start the fire for their morning meal. The house was so cold, in +the dim light, for the fire had burned low and the wind seemed to +blow in through all the cracks and corners. But Jean never minded +that; she was thinking with a quiet satisfaction of the little box +up-stairs, and as she knelt on the bare floor to shake down the +ashes in the kitchen stove, she was humming contentedly to +herself,-- + + "'And pray a gladsome Christmas + On all good Christian men; + Carol, brothers, carol, + Christmas day again!'" + + +Her mother's step interrupted her. + +"Good morning, mammy!" she exclaimed, jumping up. "Why in the +world didn't you stay in bed till the house was a little warmer?" + +"It's no colder for me than it is for you," her mother answered. +"Your nose is blue and your ears are red. Are the boys getting +up?" + +"Oh, yes; they must be nearly dressed," answered Jean. "They +started as soon as I did." + +Breakfast was all ready to put on the table, and still the boys +had not come down. Jean had heard them running about their rooms; +but now, for some time, all had been silent. Suddenly there was a +shout. + +"Jean! Jean! _Jean!_" + +"Well," answered Jean, going to the foot of the back stairs, with +the toasting-fork in one hand and a slice of bread in the other. + +"I can't find but one stocking. You come and look for it for me." + +"I'm busy, Erne," she called. "Ask Willie to help you." + +"He won't. He's gone back to bed, 'cause it's cold," responded the +childish voice. + +Jean glanced at her mother in despair. Then she put down her toast +and went up to the boy's room. Mrs. Dwight could hear her coaxing, +laughing, and merrily scolding the boys, as she found the missing +garments, routed Willie out from his warm nest in the middle of +the bed, and triumphantly marshalled the four children downstairs +to their seats at the breakfast table. + +It was the beginning of a long, hard day, and Jean was forced, +again and again, to hold herself in check while she bethought +herself of the true Christmas spirit: good will to men. The boys +had not the least intention of being naughty; but the storm kept +them shut up in the house, and they were overflowing with fun and +mischief, which was somewhat increased by the vague holiday +feeling that is in the very air around us at Christmas time. Jean +did her part well, restraining their boisterous shouts, making +peace in their small quarrels, proposing new entertainments when +the old ones had been worn threadbare, and, in the afternoon, +calling them all into a corner of the dining-room and telling them +marvellous old-time stories, to keep them quiet while their father +took his nap in the next room. Not much of a Christmas eve, +perhaps, compared with the stir and bustle of preparation at the +Hapgoods', or with the elaborate gifts which Mr. and Mrs. Lang had +bought for their only child; but after all, blessed be drudgery! +and the hard work and stern self-denial were doing much to round +Jean's character into the perfect womanhood, for which all our +girls were striving. + +Slowly the day wore away; an endless one it appeared to Jean who, +with tired hands and weary head, longed for the hour when the +little ones should be tucked away for the night, and she could +give her nerves and her patience a little rest. It came soon after +supper, for the boys were more than ready to go to bed, hoping in +this way to encourage an early visit from Santa Claus and so have +the first choice of gifts from his overflowing pack. There was a +little sadness in Jean's smile, as she watched them eagerly +fastening their long stockings around the kitchen chimney, with +many a sleepy dispute about the best place and to whom it should +be given. Then they clattered up the stairs and pulled off their +clothes, tossing them in a promiscuous pile on the floor, to be +sorted out again by Jean while they lay huddled under the +blankets. The last good night was said, the last "Merry Christmas" +exchanged in anticipation of the morrow, and Jean went away and +left them. + +She crossed into her own room, took up the little box, and went +down-stairs again and out into the kitchen. How poor and mean her +gifts looked, after all, and how lonely in the toes of the long, +thin stockings! She could have cried, as she stood there looking +at them; but what was the use of crying? Tears wouldn't bring +Willie the air-rifle for which he sighed, nor Ernest the fine new +sled and knife that he had so innocently mentioned in his prayers. +No, crying wouldn't help the matter any; so she smiled instead, as +she went back to the sitting-room; but it was a wan, lifeless +smile, after all. + +For a few moments she stood at the window, looking out into the +night and listening to the sleepy murmurs from the room above. It +would be good sleighing for Santa Claus, she thought, and then +smiled at the childishness of the idea. The storm had died away at +sunset, and the soft, light snow lay white on the ground, and +piled high on the evergreen hedge at the side of the house. In the +cold, still air, the stars glittered like little, pricking points +of steel, throwing a faint light over the town below; while, far +down in the quiet western sky, lay the tiny silver thread of the +baby moon, as if anxious to linger above the horizon for a peep +into the happy Christmas world, when the midnight bells should +ring in the glad news, centuries old, yet ever coming to us with +all the fresh joy of that first eastern Christmas dawn. + +Jean's eyes wandered from the snow below to the sky above, then +dropped again to the distant lights that were shining out from the +upper rooms of the Hapgood house. Even the attic was ablaze, for +Mrs. Hapgood still kept to the old-fashioned custom of +illuminating the house on Christmas eve. How Jean wished she could +peep in to see what they were all doing! She had missed her +friends and their frolics during these past weeks, missed them +more than any one knew but her pillow, to which alone she confided +her troubles. + +Then she turned away from the window and threw herself down on the +scratchy old haircloth sofa, with her arms folded under her head, +to stare at the ceiling and think it all over. She had kept her +temper that day, at least; for so much she could be thankful. But +now she would have given worlds to run away out of the house and +down the street, to spend the evening with Polly or Molly, or even +Florence. Mrs. Dwight was busy with her husband, so Jean was quite +alone and could be as forlorn as she pleased. + +Suddenly she sprang up and listened intently. There was the +rhythmic beat of footsteps on the sidewalk which Willie had +cleared, and a chorus of blithe young voices rang out on the quiet +air. + + "'Hark! Hark! Upon the frosty air of night + A joyful anthem swells! + A song of gladness and delight, + The bells ring out with all their might, + And echo o'er the fields, with snow all bright, + The merry Christmas bells!'" + + +"It's a carol!" And Jean strained her ears to listen, while the +steps and the voices came nearer, and still nearer. + + "'Hark! Hark! About the gray old belfry tower + Their gladsome notes resound, + And carol through the moonlight hour, + + + O'er snowy sward and glist'ning bower, + The glory of the Lord, whose saving power + On earth to-night was found.'" + +They were very near now, nearer than Jean realized, for, as the +last line died away, the front door swung open and the singers +appeared on the threshold, with rosy cheeks and shining eyes, +exclaiming in a jovial chorus,-- + +"Merry Christmas, Jean!" + +And Jean stood in amazement, while Alan and Polly set down the +great basket that they carried, and the six friends pulled off +their coats and hats and prepared to spend a long evening. + +What need to linger over the unpacking of the great basket, to +listen to the fun as the simple presents and absurd jokes came to +light, one after another, while Jean now wiped away a tear or two +over Katharine's dainty gift, now laughed convulsively over some +ridiculous prank of Alan's plotting? And all the time, the chorus +went on, now explaining, now joking, but always bringing to Jean +the welcome assurance that her friends did not forget her even in +her absence. + +It was a successful evening, they all said again and again, as +they gathered at the door in the starlight; and Jean stood looking +after them with happy eyes as they marched off through the snow, +gaily singing the dear old carol,-- + + "'God rest ye, merry gentlemen, + Let nothing you dismay, + For Jesus Christ, the Saviour, + Was born upon this day.'" + + +That night when the Christ child came silently over the mountains +and down into the sleeping town, he lingered beside their pillows, +to whisper to Jean words of encouragement for the coming days of +toil, to paint bright visions of the well-filled stockings which +the boys were to find in the morning, and to bring to five girls +and one young lad his thanks for their helping to do his work here +upon the earth. And if the morning brought the merry Christmas to +them all, to none it came more truly than to Jean as she watched +the children's rapture over their lumpy, shapeless stockings, +while she turned, again and again, to look over and caress her own +generous share of gifts which the Christmas eve had brought her. + +CHAPTER XII. + +HALF A DOZEN COOKS. + +Christmas had come and gone, and the new year was well started in +its course. The time was passing rapidly for the seven young +people, who were making the very most of the cold, bracing winter +weather. There were coasting frolics and skating parties, long +walks and longer sleigh-rides, and even one grand snowball fight +which was brought to an untimely end by a carelessly aimed ball +that flew straight from Jessie's hand to the back of Aunt Jane's +stately neck, just as that good woman was starting for the jail +with a large package of tracts clasped in her black-gloved hands. +The calls on Bridget still continued and the long-talked-of play +was slowly approaching completion. Jean had worked on it at +intervals during her father's illness, and it was now so nearly +done that the girls had thought it was advisable to begin +rehearsing on the first part of it at once. + +And best of all the good times were the long, cosey evenings, when +they gathered around the open fire, either at the Hapgood house, +or else in Mrs. Adams's parlor, to talk over the events of the day +or tell stories, while they roasted apples and popped corn over +the coals, regardless of the fact that much better results and +much fewer burns would have come from the same labors performed +over the kitchen stove. + +They were all settled at Polly's one snowy evening, Mrs. Adams +sewing by the lamp, Polly, Jessie, and Alan curled up on the rug, +and the others in low chairs, when Aunt Jane came into the room, +looking like a funereal sort of spook in her long, shiny black +waterproof. + +"What now, Jane?" inquired her sister, glancing up from her work. + +"Mothers' Meeting," responded Aunt Jane, disdainfully eying the +home-like group before her. + +"Oh, Jane, I wouldn't take that long walk on such a stormy night," +urged Mrs. Adams. + +"If these children can come here for mere pleasure, it certainly +is not too stormy for me to go out on an errand of duty," answered +Aunt Jane, with dignity. "And, Isabel, I really think it is your +duty, too, as a mother, to go to these meetings. They are very +helpful and improving, and would be a great source of comfort to +you in training Polly." + +"Perhaps they might be, if I went," replied her sister gently; +"but you can never make me believe, Jane, that I ought to go away +and leave Polly alone, one night in every week." + +"Don't go, Mrs. Adams," implored Alan, in an undertone. + +"I haven't the least idea of it, Alan," she answered, as the door +closed behind Aunt Jane. "People don't all think alike about these +things, and your mother and I both believe that we can do more +good by staying at home, and trying to know and understand our own +boys and girls, than by leaving them while we tell somebody else +how to bring up her children that we have never seen." And Mrs. +Adams gave a little nod of conviction, as Katharine moved her +chair back to the table, saying heartily,-- + +"I quite agree with you, auntie." + +"Perhaps if you'd always been to the meetings, Jerusalem, I'd have +been more of a success," remarked Polly pensively, as she settled +herself more comfortably with her head in Jean's lap. + +"No use wasting one's time on poor material," said Alan +philosophically, while he shielded his face from the blaze with +the shovel. + +"Molly, do you remember what a time we had one night, trying to +make this fire burn?" inquired Polly, thoughtlessly betraying the +secret of their experiences. + +"Don't I, though!" answered Molly fervently. + +"When was that?" asked Florence. + +"Last fall, when mamma went to New York," answered Polly. "We +wouldn't tell you then, but I don't care now, do you, Molly?" + +"You'd better let me tell it," put in Alan. "You girls won't half +do it justice. Now listen." And he told the tale of their +housekeeping experiences, suppressing nothing, but, on the +contrary, making such additions as his fertile brain and an utter +disregard of the facts could suggest. + +By the time his story was done, Polly and Molly were blushing and +protesting, while the other girls were lying back in their seats, +exhausted with laughing. + +"Is that all?" asked Katharine, as her cousin ceased speaking. + +"All! I should think it was, and more too," said Molly. "He made +up half of that, and the other half he exaggerated so that it +couldn't recognize itself, if it tried." + +"How many of you girls would do any better?" added Polly. + +"I can't cook the first solitary thing," admitted Florence; "but I +had a cousin that used to make bread when she was ten years old." + +"Much good that does you," remarked Alan disrespectfully. "My +grandmother was a splendid cook, but I never found that it helped +Molly any." + +"I can cook," said Jean, with manifest pride; "I know how to do +meat and lots of things; but I don't suppose I should, if I hadn't +had to." + +"I always wanted to get into the kitchen, when I was a little +girl," said Florence. "We had one girl that used to let me roll +out pie-crust and stir up muffins; but mamma caught me one day, +with a new gown all covered with flour and bits of dough, and +after that there was no kitchen for me." + +"Ask Alan how he boiled some meat once," said Molly. + +Alan hung his head in confusion. + +"I'll tell you, if he won't," went on his sister mercilessly. "Two +years ago we had some company just before Thanksgiving, and mamma +wanted to boil some meat for mince pies. We hadn't any girl, so +when we went to ride, she told Alan, to watch it and put in more +water when it needed it, so it shouldn't burn. He went off to play +ball and forgot it, and--"Molly made an impressive pause. + +"Go on, Molly," urged Polly, delighted that the tables were +turned, and Alan's failings to be brought to light. + +"Well," resumed Molly, ignoring her brother's threatening glances; +"as soon as we turned the corner, coming home, we noticed a most +awful smell. It grew worse, the nearer we came to the house; and +then we saw the kitchen door wide open, and the smoke just pouring +out in streams." Molly's metaphors were becoming mixed, but the +girls never minded that, as she continued, "Mamma was dreadfully +frightened, for she thought the house was on fire. We rushed in, +and there was the meat frizzling away on the stove, and Alan so +excited that he was just hopping up and down and crying, and +letting it burn away, because he didn't dare take it off. It was +more than a week before the smoke was out of the house." + +A gentle snore from Alan greeted the end of the story. He had +rolled over on his face, and was apparently sound asleep. + +"There!" said Polly, with an accent of relief. "I'm glad we aren't +the only know-nothings in the world, Molly." + +"The question is, how are we going to know something," said +Katharine thoughtfully. + +"Let's turn our reading club into a cooking club," suggested +Jessie; "that is, if Mrs. Adams is willing." + +"Yes, and poison ourselves, or else die of indigestion," +interrupted Alan, waking abruptly to make this remark. + +"Oh, you go to sleep again!" said Polly, rolling a hassock at him. + +But Alan appropriated the weapon, and at once put it to use as a +pillow, while his sister said reflectively,-- + +"I wish we could do something of the kind. I don't know as we can; +but I should so like to know how to do enough cooking so that +Polly and I won't starve to death, next time we keep house." + +While they were talking, Mrs. Adams had been hastily thinking over +the possibility of giving the girls a few lessons in plain +cooking. Such a plan would take some of her time, and involve much +trouble and waste, besides, as Alan had suggested, imperilling the +digestions of the family. But, on the other hand, Mrs. Adams had +always felt that any woman, no matter how many servants she might +keep, should have enough experience as a cook to direct the +servants intelligently, and to be able to provide food for her +family, if the hour of need should ever come. It was high time +that Polly should be gaining a little of this experience, so why +not extend her lessons to include all the girls? It would probably +be the only chance that Florence and the Shepards would ever have. +She resolved to try the experiment, for a time at least. + +"What's the use of it, anyway?" Florence was saying. "A servant +always does the cooking." + +"Yes," Mrs. Adams answered, suddenly breaking in on the +conversation once more; "but perhaps you won't always be able to +keep a servant, perhaps you'll have a poor one. I knew of one +unfortunate young wife who knew so little about cooking that, +before she could teach her servant, she used to have to study her +cook-book and recite the rules to her husband, to be sure she had +learned them. Now I don't want any of my girls to be in such an +absurd position, so I'm going to give you a few lessons, just to +try and see if they are a success. Come next Saturday morning, and +bring your gingham aprons." + +"Yes," added a voice from the next room, where the doctor had just +settled down to his evening paper; "and I'll promise to give two +prizes, one to the first girl that will bring me a perfect loaf of +bread of her own making, the other to the first one who invites me +to a dinner which she herself has cooked." + +"That's not fair, papa," remonstrated Polly. + +"Jean knows all about it now, and can take both prizes." + +"She doesn't know the first thing about bread," returned Jean, +"and she never knew till to-night that elastic starch was good for +puddings." + +The following Saturday morning proved to be the first of a long +series of similar meetings. The girls entered into the subject +enthusiastically, delighted with the new interest which bade fair +to rival Bridget in their estimation; and week after week they +gathered in Mrs. Adams's great kitchen to mix and to stir, to bake +and to brew. Mistakes were numerous and failures frequent; but +Mrs. Adams was an admirable teacher, praising the girls when she +could, encouraging them when her conscience forbade her to praise, +and they toiled on, regardless of burns, and not even deterred by +the prospect of the dish-washing, which always ended their +morning's work. Alan was not permitted to cook, but he acted +alternately in the capacities of errand-boy and taster-in-chief, +and his hearty boy appetite carried him through the operation, +unharmed. Polly's experiments were, perhaps, the most original and +striking of any that were made. On one occasion, she neglected to +sweeten her muffins till they were in the oven and began to bake. +The rule called for sugar, and most cooks would have regarded the +attempt as a failure; not so with Polly. Slyly opening the oven +door, she added a generous teaspoonful of sugar to every separate +muffin, greatly to the surprise of the others, when they broke +them open, to find a solid lump mysteriously arranged in the top +of every one. The teasing she had to endure when the truth was +known, was only equalled by that which fell to her lot a week +later when, as if to make amends for past extravagance, she forgot +to put any sugar at all in her sponge cake. Even Alan's appetite +failed to compass the result of this venture. + +Slowly the plan extended until, as spring came on, Mrs. Adams used +to take her flock on marketing expeditions, letting each in turn +select the dinner at her will. These Saturday mornings were +regarded by the girls as the crowning frolic of the week, for the +simple domestic lessons which they were learning were made so gay +and attractive that it was not until long years had passed and +they were in charge of homes of their own, that most of them +realized all that Mrs. Adams had done for them. + +At length, during the latter part of April and the first week in +May, the spirit of hospitality appeared to have run riot among the +young cooks, for Dr. Adams was invited to a series of six grand +dinner parties, each one more elaborate than the last. Jean, as +the veteran cook of the club, opened the course, and it was good +to see her air of importance as she presided over the long table, +in the chair of state from which her mother was for the once +deposed. It was all delicious, the doctor declared, and he filled +Jean with satisfaction by asking to be helped a third time to her +macaroni and cheese, and praised the roast until the other girls +exchanged envious glances. + +Florence's dinner followed, and was a surprise to them all, for +this dainty, helpless girl, who had been brought up to know +nothing of the practical side of life, had developed a real genius +for cookery; and during the past two months she had spent many a +happy hour in the kitchen, helping the cook to concoct her +elaborate dishes with a skill which won the praise of even that +accomplished tyrant, and Florence was making rapid progress +towards being able to take charge of the house and servants which +had been promised to her on Hallowe'en. + +Polly's turn came last of all, and she had determined to retire +from the contest covered with glory in all their eyes. She had +chosen the first Saturday in May for her party, and she had gained +her mother's somewhat reluctant consent to extend her invitations +to include Mrs. Dwight, Mrs. Lang, and Mrs. Hapgood, as well as +the other girls and Alan, who had been the usual guests. + +It proved to be one of the warm, heavy days which come in the +early part of May, a day that is delightful to those who can be +absolutely idle, but which is singularly oppressive to the +unfortunate majority who have duties to which they must attend. +Though the dinner hour was not until six o'clock, Polly was up +betimes, and went rushing about the house and slamming doors, with +a profound disregard of Aunt Jane's morning nap. + +By eleven o'clock the house was in festal array, and the most +delicate of lemon puddings was cooling on the ice. Nothing more +could be done for hours; but Polly resisted all her mother's +efforts to induce her to rest, and roamed excitedly up and down +the rooms, now and again pausing to flick a few grains of dust +from the mantel, or to rearrange one of the graceful bunches of +flowers that decorated the house. + +"Now, Polly," said Aunt Jane, at length, with an encouraging trust +in human nature; "you'll be utterly tired out to-morrow, and you +know that always makes you cross. I really think you'd better go +and lie down, or else sit down quietly and read." + +But Polly scorned the suggestion. She was longing for the hour to +come when she could retire to the kitchen. At length it came and, +leaving her new spring gown spread on the bed, to be hastily put +on at the last minute, she went running down the stairs. In the +hall she paused, horror-stricken, as she heard a familiar voice +from the next room, saying to her mother,-- + +"I always have heard say that his brother hadn't enough principle +to save even the little tail of his soul, but nobody ever thought +the worse of Solomon Baxter for all that. Folks can't help their +relations; it's their friends that tells the story." + +Miss Deborah Bean had come to dinner. + +With a sinking heart, Polly went on to the kitchen and sat down on +one edge of the table, to collect her ideas. If anything did go +wrong, she knew, from past experiences, that Miss Bean would not +hesitate to mention the fact. But nothing should go wrong; and as +Polly gave the roast of beef a vigorous push ovenward, she +resolved to do or die. When she went to bed that night, she felt +that she had very nearly done both, the doing and the dying. + +In the first place, the fire obstinately refused to burn, and in +working over that, Polly entirely forgot her vegetables until some +time after they should have been put on to cook; so the dinner was +delayed for a long half-hour, while Polly was haunted by spectral +visions of her guests falling from their chairs, in the faintness +of slow starvation. At length all was ready, and leaving the girl +to take up the tomato soup which Polly regarded as her one +infallible dish, she ran up-stairs to dress herself and appear +before her expectant guests, with a flushed face and ruffled +curls. + +If she had any misgivings as she marshalled her friends to the +table and pointed Miss Bean to an extra seat beside Florence, she +certainly concealed them with a tact worthy of an older +housekeeper. The truth was, Polly felt no uncertainty as to the +beginning and the end of her feast. The soup had never failed her, +the pudding she knew to be good; so she could bear with the tough +and stringy roast and the hard, lumpy potatoes with a fair grace. +There was a hush of interested expectancy, as Polly dipped the +ladle into the creamy, foamy soup. Then, when she poured it out +into the plate, the conversation hastily started up again, but not +so soon as to cover a sudden giggle from Alan, which he would have +given worlds to recall when he saw Polly's tragic expression, as +she surveyed the thin, watery compound and the white lumps +floating in it. + +The mothers present accepted their shares in silence and were +heroically preparing to eat them, when Miss Bean was heard to +speak. + +"No, thank you," she said, as she waved her plate away; "I don't +care for any; it don't look very good. I reckon it wheyed a little +mite, didn't it?" she asked, turning to Mrs. Adams inquiringly. + +But the doctor mercifully led her off into a tide of reminiscence, +and his daughter was spared for the time being. The dinner went on +from bad to worse, but the guests were most polite, and tried +their best to keep up a brisk conversation, while they nibbled at +the underdone potatoes and picked at the overdone asparagus. Miss +Bean alone was unconscious of the true state of affairs, for Mrs. +Adams had thought it unnecessary to inform her of the cause for +the party, and she commented with a perfect unconcern, ending with +the final verdict,-- + +"Well, Mis' Adams, though I do say it that shouldn't, I do think +your cook has fallen off considerable since I was here before. No +wonder Polly looks kind o' peaked." + +The sudden buzz of conversation rose again, as if to cover Polly's +confusion, while Alan gave her hand a sympathetic pinch under the +tablecloth. However, Polly was supported through these trials by +the thought of her final triumph when the pudding should appear. +At last the meat was removed, and the clearing of the table was +only interrupted by a quick cry of "Scat!" from Mary, as she was +taking the last plates from the room. + +"Now," thought Polly, straightening up and raising her eyes +defiantly, "now I'll show them that there's one thing I can do +well, anyway." + +Alas for Polly! Some one else had thought her pudding a success. +It came in, borne by Mary, who set it down, disclosing a round +hole in it, near one end of the dish, and bent to whisper in +Polly's ear. + +"What?" gasped Polly, as the bright color rushed into her cheeks, +and then faded again. + +Mary repeated her whisper, more loudly this time, and the company +plainly heard the one word _cat_. + +It was too true. The Adams cat was an animal of refined tastes +and, preferring pudding to her ordinary diet of bread and milk, +she had watched her chance when Mary's back was turned, and +mounting to the table, she had helped herself to the dainty dish, +which was for the moment unguarded. + +Tears stood in Polly's eyes, and another minute would have brought +them down in a shower, had not the doctor burst out laughing, as +he exclaimed,-- + +"It's too bad, and I am sorry for you, Polly; but I don't believe +we any of us ever enjoyed a dinner more than we have this one." + +And Mrs. Hapgood added hastily,-- + +"Yes, and we mothers have all been through it ourselves so many +times, too." + +[Illustration: ALAS FOR POLLY! SOME ONE ELSE HAD THOUGHT THE +PUDDING A SUCCESS."] + +All this was like Hebrew to Miss Bean, who was at a loss to see +why they should all be administering comfort to Polly. But there +could be no doubt that something was wrong, so she inquired, with +an air of stony censure,-- + +"What is the matter, for the land sakes? If Polly can't eat what's +set before her, she can go without." + +That settled the question of Polly's tears, and she began to laugh +hysterically, while the others joined in until the dining-room +rang with their mirth. + +"Well," said the doctor, as he pushed back his chair, half an hour +later; "if Florence takes the prize for the best cooking, Polly +ought to have the one for the best entertainment." + +The guests went away early, and Polly ran upstairs to take off her +best gown and slip on a comfortable dark blue wrapper. When she +returned to the parlor, her mother was sitting in front of the +fire, in a wide sleepy-hollow chair. She turned her head, as Polly +entered the room. + +"Come, dear," she said; "there's room for two here." + +And Polly came. + +The motherly arm around her shoulders felt very comforting to her +just then; and, like a little, tired child, she cried it all out, +all the weariness and mortification and sense of failure. But +while the tears were still falling, she began to laugh once more. + +"Oh, Jerusalem Adams!" she said; "did you ever see anything so +funny as Miss Bean was about my soup?" + +Her mother smiled, but before she had time to reply, Polly went on +tragically,-- + +"But wasn't it all dreadful, mamma? Seems to me I never can look +any of them in the face again, Mrs. Lang and all. And just when I +thought I was going to be so smart and show off all I knew!" + +If Aunt Jane had been there, she would doubtless have reminded +Polly that pride must have a fall, and that this was a just reward +for trying to outdo her friends. Mrs. Adams did no such thing, +however. She only drew the curly head over against her shoulder +and stroked it gently, as she said, with a half-laughing +tenderness,-- + +"My poor little Polly! You tried to do more than you had strength +for. But, after all, it's as true a side of life as Florence's +successful dinner was; and every housekeeper must go through just +such experiences, again and again. You are no more likely to fail +the next time, because your dinner to-day wasn't a good one. It is +only one of the unlucky days that we all must have." + +"You, mamma?" And Polly raised her head in wonder. + +"Yes, I've had my fair share of just such times." And Mrs. Adams +laughed quietly, as she thought of similar chapters in her own +housekeeping. Then she added, "But I was proud to see my little +girl bear it so well, without breaking down or getting vexed at +Miss Bean. That's worth a dozen elegant dinners, Polly. But now +it's high time my cook was in bed and asleep, without a dream of +soups or puddings or disagreeable guests who come uninvited. Some +day you and I will have another dinner, and astonish the natives." + +A few moments later, she followed Polly upstairs to tuck the +blankets around her and cuddle her, and kiss away the few tears +that lay on her cheeks. Then she went back to the parlor, where +she and her husband laughed heartily and long over Polly's grand +dinner party. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +ALAN AND POLLY HAVE A DRESS REHEARSAL. + + +It was still in the early days of the cooking club, and February's +snows lay soft over the mountain sides, the smooth, open places +throwing into bold relief the long rows of trees, which looked +blue and hazy against their dazzling background. The town was +snow-covered, too, and the frozen river, and wherever one went, +the air was full of the gay jingle-jangle of countless +sleighbells, while the streets were thronged with a motley +collection of equipages, from the luxuriously upholstered double +sleigh with its swaying robes and floating plumes, down to the +shapeless home-made "pung" with its ragged, unlined buffalo skin +snugly tucked in about the shawled and veiled grandma, who +smilingly awaited her good man while he purchased the week's +supply of groceries. + +Such cold, clear days, such glorious sleighing were not to be +resisted; and on this particular Saturday afternoon, Katharine had +driven around with Cob, to take Mrs. Adams out for an hour or two, +before time for her usual call on Bridget. The day had long passed +when Job could be driven on the snow. Mrs. Adams had made one or +two attempts in previous winters, but the poor old animal had +toddled along so gingerly, slipping and sliding in every +direction, that she had resigned herself to the inevitable, and +put the old horse into winter quarters, much as she did her fan, +or her lace bonnet. Such a course had its disadvantages, too, for +the long time of standing in his stall stiffened up Job's +venerable joints to such an extent that it took him a large share +of the summer to regain the free use of his members. However, +Katharine had been very generous with Cob, and Mrs. Adams had had +a fair share of the sleighing. That day, though she was in the +midst of writing a letter when Katharine came, the gay little +sleigh and the lively mustang proved too attractive, and she had +thrown aside her pen and put on her fur coat without a moment's +hesitation. + +Polly had gone down to the hospital that afternoon. Her cooking in +the morning had been so successful that she had begged to be +allowed to take a taste of it to Bridget; so, with a little basket +in one hand and a carefully arranged posy in the other, she had +gone away down the street, soon after lunch. Once there, she had +lingered, chatting with Bridget, who was in an unusually dismal +frame of mind, owing to a letter which, had come that morning, +telling her that the youngest child she had left had suddenly +developed a fractious turn of mind, and that her temporary +guardian was "kilt entirely wid the care of her." Naturally +enough, this news was preying upon Bridget, and when Polly went +in, she found her resolving to leave the hospital and all the good +it was doing her, and go home to see to the unmanageable infant. +For this reason, Polly had stayed for some time, soothing +Bridget's anxiety and trying to distract her mind from her worries +by telling her all the funny stories she could remember or invent. +By degrees Bridget's face brightened, and, charmed with her +success, Polly talked on and on till the clock in the church tower +near by chimed three. Then she rose in haste, surprised to find it +so late. + +"I don't care if 'tis three," she said to herself, as she went +along the corridor; "I'll just look in on the babies now I'm here. +I haven't been near them, for an age." + +As she turned in at the door of the children's ward, what was her +astonishment to find Alan sitting there, quite at his ease, +surrounded by half a dozen small boys who were in a high state of +glee over this new playfellow. + +"What! You here?" And Polly's face grew expressionless with her +amazement. + +"I seem to be, don't I?" responded Alan, a little shamefaced at +being caught, while he carefully set down the four-year-old urchin +on his knee and rose to join her, regardless of the protestations +of his small hosts. + +"You see," he went on, as they walked away down the corridor +together; "I thought it would be a good scheme to have a full +dress rehearsal of our scenes in the play, so I went to your +house, bag and baggage. They told me that you weren't at home, +that you'd gone on an errand to Bridget, so I followed on after +you. I waited round outside for a good while; but it was so cold +that I nearly froze, so I rang the bell and asked if you were +here. You were such a forever-lasting time that I'd begun to think +you had gone out by some other door." + +"No danger of that," returned Policy, as he paused. "I'm a snob +and only take the front door. But go on; what did you do then?" "I +asked if you were here," the boy resumed; "and the woman said you +were, and took me up into that room, for she said I could see you +go past the door when you came out. I don't see what possessed her +to put me in there, and I hadn't any idea of taking any notice of +those babies, but somehow or other they got round me." + +There was an apologetic tone to Alan's voice as he spoke the last +words, which made Polly say heartily,-- + +"I am so glad they did, Alan. They don't often get hold of a boy +in there, and they'll remember it ever and ever so long. It won't +hurt you any, just for once, and it delighted them." + +"I hope it did," said Alan, frankly adding, "I did feel no end +silly, though, when you came out and caught me at it, playing +child's nurse." + +"I wonder why it is," returned Polly reflectively, as they went +down the steps, "that a man always acts ashamed of doing what a +woman is expected to do, day in and day out. I don't see why we +shouldn't take turns and mix things up." + +They walked along in silence for a little way. Alan's chin and +ears were buried in his wide coatcollar, but the part of his face +that showed was very sober. + +"I say, Polly," lie said suddenly; "you don't know how kind of +squirmy it made me feel, in there to-day, with all those little +fellows, the one with the brace on his ankle, and the one with his +eye tied up where they'd taken out a piece, and all the rest of +them. I couldn't stand it to just sit there and stare at them, as +if they were a show; that was too mean, when I couldn't do +anything to help them out. What's the use of it all, any way?" + +"I'm sure I don't know," answered Polly, as she tucked her +mittened hand confidingly down into his, as it lay in the side +pocket of his over-coat. "I felt just the same way when I began to +go, last fall; but now I'm used to it, and don't mind so much." + +"But what's the use, I'd like to know?" persisted Alan. + +"What's the use of your having so much rheumatism in your bones?" +responded Polly, answering question with question. + +"How should I know?" returned Alan. "To make me cross as a bear, +and give mother something to worry about, as much as anything, I +suppose." + +"I don't believe that's all the reason," said Polly seriously; +"but as long as these things are round, and have to be, just think +how splendid it must be to be a doctor!" + +In spite of himself, Alan shivered at the thought. The scenes of +the past hour had made a strong impression on his quick, sensitive +nature. + +"No," he said, "I don't want to spend my whole time among such +things. It would be dreadful, Poll." + +"I don't think so," said Polly energetically, as she snatched at +the blue cap which a sudden gust of wind was lifting from her +curls. "I don't want to be one myself, but I'm glad papa is a +doctor, and I've always wished I had a brother to be one, too. I +know the side of it you mean, Alan, and it is dreadful at first; +but after a little, you'd get used to that, and I think there +could be nothing grander than to spend all your life in mending +broken bones, and cutting people to pieces to take out bad places, +and helping them to grow all strong and well. I'd rather be a real +good doctor than the President in the White House, and I don't +believe but what I'd do more good." + +While she was speaking, Alan watched her with admiration, for her +eyes had grown dark and deep, and her whole face was alive with +the earnestness of her words. + +"You ought to have been a nurse, Poll," he said, when she had +finished her outburst. "That's what makes you so nice and +comfortable when I'm sick. I'd rather have you than Molly any day. +But don't let's talk about it any longer; I can't keep those poor +babies out of my head. They just seem to stick there." + +"Go to see them again, and perhaps they won't," suggested Polly +quickly. + +"I'll see about it," said Alan; "but it strikes me I had enough of +it this morning to last me for one while." And he lapsed into +silence once more, while Polly eyed him stealthily, trying to read +his thought. + +When he spoke again, it was on an entirely different subject, and +with an evident effort to dismiss the matter from his mind. Polly +did her best to fall in with his mood, with an instinctive feeling +that, boy-fashion, Alan did not care to put into words all that he +thought; so by the time they reached the house, they were lightly +discussing all sorts of unimportant matters; the weather, the +sleighing, their play, and even Job, and Alan had thrown off his +momentary seriousness and become as gay as ever. + +"Where did you put your war-paint and feathers?" asked Polly, as +they ran. up the steps, rosy and breathless from facing the strong +wind. + +"My war-paint, ma'am! It's yours. I'm a civilized white man, named +Smith," returned Alan, as he pulled off his coat in the hall. "I +left them in a corner of the dining-room." + +"I'll get them." And Polly vanished. + +"You see," Alan went on, as she reappeared. "We know our parts +well enough, I suppose; but I wanted to get used to seeing you in +full rig, before the time came. I was afraid, if you suddenly +appeared to me, I should laugh and spoil our best scene." + +"Don't you dare do that!" returned Polly sternly. "If you laugh, +I'll let Jean cut off your head, and not try to save you. But it's +a good idea to have a chance to go through it, while we are all +alone by ourselves. Our parts are best of all, and I want to do +them as well as we can for Jean's sake, she has taken so much +pains to write it up." + +"Yes," added the captain ungratefully, "and I'd like to have you +try over that rushing out and tumbling down on top of me. The last +time you did it, you. nearly knocked the breath out of my body. +You'd better go a little slower, Poll, or you'll kill me as surely +as Jean would,--and I don't know but what her way would be about +as comfortable as yours." + +"We've plenty of time and the house to ourselves," said Polly +meekly; "so we can try it over and over, till I get it right." + +"What a prospect!" groaned Alan. "When we get through, you'll have +to take me to the hospital and put me in with those youngsters, +where I was to-day." + +"All right," returned Polly, laughing; "but if I ever do kill you, +don't expect me to tell of it. Now let's come up into mamma's room +and dress in front of her long mirror." + +The dressing was a prolonged and hilarious operation, for each in +turn helped the other to don his costume, stopping now and then to +burst out laughing at the results of their labors. Alan, it is +true, made a very attractive young captain, though, with a fine +disregard for dates, he was attired in the moth-eaten, faded +uniform with tarnished brass buttons and epaulettes which one of +his ancestors had worn during the Revolutionary War. But the +ancestor had been several sizes larger than his nineteenth century +descendant, and the uniform lay in generous folds over the back +and shoulders, and was turned up at wrist and ankle, while the +great cocked hat, pushed back to show the yellow hair in front, +rested on the boy's shoulders behind. However, a truer, tenderer, +more valiant heart never beat in old-time captain, than was +throbbing in Alan's breast that day, when he held forlorn little +Dicky Morris on his knee. + +But Polly! In arranging her costume, the girls had let their +individual tastes have full sway, and beyond the general notion +that Indians like bright color, they had paid no attention to the +traditional ideas of dress among the noble red men. Pocahontas, as +she is usually pictured in her quill-embroidered tunic and dull, +heavy mantle, would have laughed outright at the appearance of +this vision of silk and satin, of purple and scarlet and vivid +green, which was solemnly parading up and down the room, in all +the enjoyment of her finery. + +"'Tis splendid, isn't it, Alan?" she asked, turning, with a purely +feminine delight, to survey her long red satin train as it swept +about her feet. + +Alan looked at her doubtfully. + +"Why, yes; it's very splendid, Poll, but somehow it doesn't look +much like an Indian. I didn't know they wore satin trails a mile +long." + +Polly's brow clouded. + +"But princesses do, Alan, and I'm a princess, just as much as I'm +an Indian. It's such fun to wear this. Don't you suppose it will +do?" + +"Yes, perhaps," said Alan, with an heroic disregard of the truth. +"It isn't just like the pictures; but you look first-rate in it, +honestly, Poll. Now let me fix your head." + +Polly beamed under his praise, and dropped into a chair where she +sat passive until he had fastened on the lofty coronet of feathers +which would have formed an honorable decoration for the brow of a +Sioux brave. A little red chalk supplied the complexion, and a few +dashes of blue on the cheeks and forehead added what Alan was +pleased to term "a little style" to the whole. Then Polly sprang +up, caught her skirt in both hands, and dropped a sweeping +courtesy to her friend, saying merrily,-- + +"Prythee, how now, Captain Smith; is it well with thee?" + +And the bold captain returned, in some embarrassment, as he +removed his wide-spreading hat,-- + +"Yes'm. Same to you, ma'am." + +There was something at once so quaint and so ridiculous in the +pair, that they gazed at each other for a moment, and then, +sinking clown on the floor regardless of their finery, they burst +out laughing. + +"Oh, Alan, you're so absurd!" gasped Polly. + +"You're another," responded Alan; "only you're worse." And they +went off into a fresh paroxysm of giggles. + +At last Polly sprang up with decision. + +"How silly you are, Alan!" she said, as she marched up to the +glass once more. + +"Am I?" inquired Alan meekly. "How do you like the looks, Polly?" + +Polly stared at herself closely and long, and a scornful +expression gathered about her lips. + +"It doesn't match," she said concisely, as she turned away. + +It certainly did not. The face and head-dress, suggestive of the +free, roving life of the plains, rose above a gown which was only +suited to comic opera. Clearly, Pocahontas had made a mistake when +she arranged her costume. + +"What shall we do about it?" she asked disconsolately, as she +faced Alan once more. + +"Do? If I were in your place I'd get myself up as a real genuine +Pocahontas, and not go trailing around in any such trumpery as +that," returned Alan, scornfully kicking at the end of the train, +as it lay across his toes. + +"I suppose it would be better," said Polly faintly. "This doesn't +seem to suit the part very well, but I did want to wear it." And +she gazed regretfully down at her despised finery. + +"I'll tell you what," suggested Alan, "why not wear this when you +are at court? You'll have your face washed and your feathers off +there, and this will be just the thing. When you first come on, +you can have a real Indian dress. How would that go?" + +"Good, Alan!" And Polly swept up and down the room once more, +watching her train, over her shoulder, and listening with a +rapturous countenance to the silken swish of her skirts. + +"Now," said Alan, who was beginning to be tired of the question of +dress, "let's begin and go over our scenes." + +"We ought to have Jean here," said Polly, as she regretfully +turned away from the mirror. + +"No matter, we can do a good deal as 'tis. Let's take this end of +the room for a stage." And Alan stretched himself out on the +floor, prepared to die heroically, and began a sentimental speech +of farewell to his distant home and friends. + +"Now, Poll, we'll leave out what comes next. Your word is 'And so +farewell! Let the fatal drop fall!'" + +The most critical audience could have found no fault with the way +Polly rushed in and cast herself upon the neck of the valiant +captain, while she alternately defied her father, the irate +Powhatan, and in elaborate broken English, cooed loving words into +the ear of her "own dear John," who lay coughing and strangling in +her clutches. As soon as he could regain his breath, he responded +as a gallant Englishman should, and the scene went on smoothly, +with many a coquettish bit of by-play on Polly's part, and a stern +resolve, on the captain's side, to reduce it all to the footing of +high tragedy. + +"That went well!" said Polly, when they had reached their closing +tableau, with John Smith on his knees, kissing the French kid shoe +of Pocahontas. "I do hope it will go all right next week, for +mamma says we may each invite four people, and I don't want to +fail." + +"We're going to have it here, after all, are we?" asked Alan. + +"Yes. Florence wanted it, but her mother wasn't willing, so we're +going to use the library for a stage, and put the people in the +parlor. It will hold ever so many, that way. Tuesday night we're +going to rehearse it there." + +"I wish we could try our parts there, now," said Alan. + +"Why not do it?" asked Polly. "We can, just as well as not, for +there isn't a soul in the house but ourselves. Come on." And she +led the way to the head of the stairs. + +"Sure there isn't anybody there?" asked. Alan. + +"Nobody, I am certain." + +"All right, here goes, then." And followed by Polly, Alan raced +down the stairs, singing at the top of his lungs,-- + + "'Oh, my wife and my dear children! + Oh, the deaths they both did die! + One got lost, and one got drownded, + And one got choked on pumpkin pie!' + +Hi-yi-whoop-_ee_!" he added, with a threatening war-whoop, as +he opened the parlor door and dashed in. + +There, side by side on the sofa, sat Aunt Jane and Mr. Solomon +Baxter, looking up in surprise at the vision which had suddenly +burst in upon their quiet conversation. + +The children stopped abruptly, just across the threshold, and +gazed in speechless horror, first at Aunt Jane and her caller, +then at each other. For a moment, no one made any attempt to +speak. Alan was the first to recover his senses. + +"Good afternoon, Miss Roberts," he said, advancing, hat in hand, +with one of his peculiarly bright, attractive smiles. "I hope we +haven't disturbed you, but Polly said there wasn't anybody here." + +Aunt Jane relaxed nothing of her rigidity, and Mr. Baxter answered +for her, in an excited, nervous tone, while he waved his cane on +which he had hung his stiff black hat, as if in grotesque +imitation of his own long, lean body,-- + +"What in the world are you children doing, anyway, making such a +noise? Polly--that's your name, isn't it?--you look as if you'd +just come out of the mad-house." + +In her astonishment at finding the parlor occupied, Polly had +forgotten all about her remarkable gown, her ruddy countenance, +and her towering headgear. Now, at the sudden recollection of it, +she blushed until it was visible even under the chalk, and gave a +vigorous pull, in the hope of removing her coronet, while she said +penitently,--"I truly didn't know you were here, Aunt Jane. We +were going to rehearse part of the play, and--" + +"That will do, Polly," interrupted Aunt Jane stonily; "you needn't +say any more about it. Go and get me a glass of water. Solo--Mr. +Baxter, wouldn't you like some, too?" + +"Calls him Solo--Mr. Baxter, does she!" remarked Alan, as the door +closed behind the culprits. "Depend on it, Poll, there's something +up in that quarter." + +"I wonder if there is," said Polly. "I'm sorry for him, if it's +true. But, Alan, think of our rushing in on them, looking like a +pair of heathen, and that song and all! How could we!" + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +POLLY'S DARK DAY. + + +The next Monday noon, Polly stood on the top of a tall step- +ladder, with the hose in her hand, washing off the parlor blinds. +It was a warm, clear day, so warm that there was no possible +discomfort in her work, and yet Polly was in a state of great +disgust over her present employment. If it had been the back +blinds, even! But to Polly, it seemed that her position on the +ladder, within full view of the street, was extremely undignified, +and she had protested vigorously when her mother sent her out. + +"It won't take but a few minutes, Polly," Mrs. Adams had said; +"and they need it badly. There's no knowing when we shall have +another day that is warm enough, so run right out and do it now." + +Polly went, for she dared not disobey; but she went with a +frowning face, and after she had slammed the door behind her, she +further freed her mind by remarking, with incautious emphasis,-- +"I don't care, I think it's too mean!" + +Of course Aunt Jane chanced to be passing along through the hall, +just then. She stopped directly in Polly's pathway and said, with +deliberate, cutting severity,-- + +"Think your mamma is mean! Why, Polly Adams, I am surprised at +you! I shall feel it my duty to speak to your mother about this." + +Then Polly lost all self-control. + +"I think you're meaner than she is!" And the outside door hanged +even more loudly than the other had done. + +By the time she was on the steps, Polly longed to sit down and +cry. Her temples were throbbing violently, and her throat felt +swollen and aching. There were days when everything seemed to go +wrong, she thought desperately; she had gone to school feeling so +happy, that morning, but she had torn her gown at recess, and had +failed in her history lesson, and now she must go out and wash +those hateful old blinds. Well, some day when she was all nicely +dead of overwork and too many scoldings, she knew they'd be sorry. +Who the _they_ in question were, she did not stop to analyze, +but, forcing back the angry tears, she went away in search of the +step-ladder. Soon she returned, dragging it after her and bumping +it with unnecessary force against all the trees and corners of the +house in her way, and, planting it in position, she slowly mounted +to the top, hose in hand. She was just balanced up there, when she +saw Alan come in through the gate. + +"Hullo! What you up to, Poll?" he called. + +"I should think you might be able to see for yourself," replied +Polly, with dignity. + +Alan surveyed her in astonishment, then asked,-- + +"Can't I help you?" + +"No!" snapped Polly shortly. + +The boy gave a long, low whistle, the meaning of which was so +obvious as to be anything but soothing to Polly's ruffled +feelings. + +"Got a pain in your temper? Didn't you sleep well last night?" he +inquired, with mock sympathy. + +Polly vouchsafed no reply. + +"Perhaps you lay awake to write another poem," he went on. "How +was it, it went: 'The children went chestnutting--'?" + +What unlucky chance had implanted in Alan's mind the spirit of +teasing, and in Polly's, at the same moment, the spirit of +perversity? What ever was the cause, the result was the same; and +Polly, in her present mood, could not endure this slighting +reference to her poem which she had fondly imagined was a secret +between Molly and herself. Her face grew white to the very lips, +as she faced the lad below. + +"Alan Hapgood!" she exclaimed; "what right have you to say so? If +you don't keep still, I'll turn the water on you." + +"All right," said the boy composedly, never dreaming how excited +she really was; "fire ahead, if 'twill give you any satisfaction. +I suppose poets are always rather peppery." + +The next instant, the strong, full jet of icy cold water struck +him directly in the chest. Polly's aim was accurate, the force of +the water great, so a few seconds had drenched the boy from his +neck to his shoes. How long it might have lasted was uncertain, +but a hasty misstep sent Polly head foremost to the ground, where +she lay for an instant, stunned by her fall. Unmindful of his +wetting, Alan ran to her side. + +"Polly, are you hurt? Where is it?" he exclaimed. + +But Polly sprang up fiercely. + +"Go away, Alan! You needn't come here again till I send for you." +And she ran into the house, and up to the safe refuge of her own +room. + +Once there, in quiet and alone, she quickly came to her senses and +realized, with a horrible fear, all that she had done, all that it +might yet do. It was her first serious quarrel with Alan, and for +such a little cause she had turned upon her favorite companion. +And then, with his rheumatism, what effect would the wetting have +on him? Filled with this unbearable anxiety, she submitted to her +mother's reproof for her words to Aunt Jane, without making any +attempt to excuse herself, and silently left the house, without +telling the secret of her last, worst outbreak. Lessons had begun, +when she entered the schoolroom, and as she seated herself, she +stole a quick glance at Alan's place. It was vacant. + +She had no opportunity to see Molly alone, that afternoon, and no +mention of Alan was made. After school, she walked quickly home +without waiting for the girls, and taking up a book, she sat for +an hour, not speaking, not reading a word, but with her eyes fixed +on the roof of the Hapgood house, going over and over the scenes +of the noon, longing to run to Alan and beg his forgiveness, yet +too proud to do so, so soon. How she wanted to tell her mother the +whole story, and ask her how to undo the harm she had done! But +she dreaded to see her mother's shocked, pained face, so she held +her peace. The long hours till bedtime slowly dragged away, and +for once Polly went up-stairs without her usual goodnight talk. +But, for some reason, sleep would not come to her, even then. +Instead of that, she lay with wide-open eyes, staring into the +darkness and picturing Alan as she saw him turn away, with the +cold water dripping from his clothing. Suddenly she heard the bell +ring sharply, violently. Springing out of bed, she stole +noiselessly to the head of the stairs to listen, sure that it was +a message of bad news. She was not mistaken, for she heard Molly's +voice saying hurriedly,-- + +"Can Dr. Adams come right away? Alan is terribly ill." + +Yes, he was ill, and perhaps he was going to die, and she had done +it! Polly fled desperately back to bed and, pulling the blankets +tightly over her head to smother the sound, she burst out crying +as she had never before cried, in her life, crying with shame for +herself and sorrow for her boy friend. + +As soon as her first outburst was over, she raised herself on her +elbow and strained her ears to listen for the sound of her +father's return, convinced that he must and would bring good news. +It was nothing serious, she reasoned, they were unnecessarily +alarmed, for it would be too unjust for Alan to be ill, when she +alone had been the one to blame. + +It was long that her father was gone. A dozen times Polly had been +sure that she heard his steps, but the moments dragged on and on, +without bringing him. At length the door opened and he entered. +Polly was out of bed in an instant and crouching at the head of +the stairs, shivering with cold and fear, while she waited to hear +his first words to her mother. She thought he would never get his +coat off and go into the parlor. When he did, she heard something +that seemed to stop her breath. + +"I've only just pulled Alan through, to-night," the doctor was +saying to his wife. "When I went in, I thought there wasn't much +chance for him; but the worst is over, for the present." + +"What was it?" asked his wife anxiously. + +"Acute pneumonia, as much as anything," answered the doctor; "but +it's mixed up with his rheumatism till he's a poor, forlorn little +bundle of aches and pains. They sent for me just in time, too. If +they'd waited till morning, we should have lost our Alan." + +"What brought it on?" asked Mrs. Adams, and her voice was a little +unsteady as she spoke. + +"That is the strangest part of it," replied her husband. "He came +in this noon, dripping wet, and Mrs. Hapgood hasn't been able to +make him tell what had happened." + +"Oh, mamma!" + +The doctor and his wife both started up, at the sound of the +strange, stifled voice. In the door directly behind them stood +Polly, barefooted and with her teeth chattering violently, while +her face was so swollen with tears as to be almost unrecogizable. + +"Polly!" + +Mrs. Adams sprang towards her, but Polly waved her off. + +"Don't touch me, mamma! Don't kiss me, till you know all about it, +what I've done! I'm to blame about Alan." + +Without speaking Mrs. Adams caught up the afghan from the sofa and +wrapped it closely about her daughter. Then, leading her to the +bright wood fire, she sat down before it and took Polly into her +lap, as if she had been a little child. The gentleness of her +manner, the unspoken sympathy for some trouble which she did not +yet know, had started Polly's tears to flowing again, and for a +long time she could only cling to her mother and sob, with her +head against the soft, warm cheek and a loving arm about her +shoulders. + +For some moments, the quiet of the room was only broken by the +measured ticking of the clock on the mantel and the snapping of +the fire on the andirons. At length Mrs. Adams said gently,-- + +"Now, Polly, tell me all about it." + +And Polly told, sparing herself in no way, but giving all the +details with a merciless truthfulness, and ending, with a sob,-- + +"And after all that, mamma, he tried to help me up when I fell, +and I drove him off, and now--Oh, what shall I do! Scold me, if +you want to; you ought to! I tried to tell you before, but I +couldn't." + +Mrs. Adams's arms grew tighter about her daughter, while she said +gravely, very gravely,-- + +"Polly, dear, I am much too sorry for you, to scold you." + +As she spoke, the doctor rose quietly and left the room, for he +felt that what would follow was for mother and daughter alone, and +even he had no right to sit by and listen to their words. + +"I am sorry for you, dear," her mother went on, after a moment; +"not so much for what you are suffering now, as I am because, +little by little, you have let your temper get the better of you +until to-day, for just this trifle, you have forgotten yourself +entirely. The pain you have borne tonight on Alan's account is +only a blessing to you, the natural punishment for what you have +done, and it will help you to remember this another time, when you +are angry. Each one of these fits of temper leaves a scar, Polly, +that nothing can ever entirely heal; and I want no such scars on +my Polly's womanhood, which must be above reproach. You are very +dear to me, my daughter, and my whole life is bound up in my hopes +for your future." + +"Oh, how can I remember!" sobbed Polly. "It is all over, so in a +minute, and then I just hate myself, but it doesn't do the least +bit of good." + +"It can't be done in a day, Polly; it will take years and years; +perhaps it may be the work of a whole lifetime. But if, by +watching yourself and struggling to keep back the quick words that +come to you, after long years you could cure this temper, wouldn't +the 'well done' be yours just as truly as if, for instance, you +went on some mission abroad? It is often far more to rule +yourself, than it is to spend your life working among the poor and +wicked, and takes more courage and selfdenial. That may be the +work which is laid out for my little daughter, and I pray that she +may do it bravely and well, so that in time I may be as proud and +happy in my Polly as I now am fond of her." + +As her mother spoke, she rested her face against Polly's curls, +and one bright tear sparkled among the soft little rings. Then she +resumed,-- + +"And now, about Alan. I shall not scold you, Polly, for your +punishment has come, as it always does, and is hard enough to +bear, without my adding a word. But the danger was great, and you +have only just escaped the most terrible sorrow that can ever come +to any human being. Still, Alan is very ill, and may be for a +long, long time to come. Anything that you can do, to make up to +him for this, must be at once your duty and your pleasure, and I +know that you will feel it to be so." + +The talk lasted for a long time, until the fire burned out into +cold, white ashes, and Polly shivered in her mother's arms. When +she went up-stairs again, Mrs. Adams went with her, and always +after the last quiet words in the dark, silent room, Polly felt a +new reverence for her mother which never left her in the future +years. + +Polly went down-stairs to breakfast, the next morning, filled with +gloomy forebodings, for she feared Aunt Jane's sharp glances and +sharper words. But the doctor had had a plain, decided talk with +Miss Roberts, the evening before, and had forbidden her to allude +to Polly's trouble, so for once Aunt Jane held her peace. Soon +after they left the table, Polly appeared before her mother, with +her coat and cap on. + +"I'm going, mamma!" + +"Where?" inquired Mrs. Adams, in some surprise. + +"To Mrs. Hapgood's," answered Polly, nerving herself to speak +steadily. "I think I ought to tell her what I did to Alan, for +he's keeping it a secret to save me, and she ought to know. +Besides, I must hear how he is." + +Mrs. Adams made no attempt to dissuade her, and Polly went down +the street, walking more and more slowly as she neared the house, +for she felt her courage fast leaving her. At the gate she paused +to glance up at the window of Alan's room. The shades were drawn +down, and no familiar boy face appeared there, to give her a +welcome. How she dreaded to go in! The cold, raw wind swept past +her, as she stood there, and it seemed to Polly that the day was +strangely in harmony with her life, just then, for the warm, +bright air of the morning before had given place to dull, heavy +clouds which lay in long, low banners along the mountain side. As +she looked up at the window above, she felt a strong, unreasoning +desire to turn again and run away towards home; but just then the +side door below opened softly, and Mrs. Hapgood stepped out on the +piazza. + +"Come in, my dear," she said. "I have good news for you; Alan had +a fairly comfortable night, and now he is asleep." + +"Oh, Mrs. Hapgood!" And Polly told her the story in an excited, +breathless fashion, with the same unhesitating truth she had shown +in talking to her mother. + +If Mrs. Adams had been kind, so was Mrs. Hapgood, as well. She +spoke no word of blame, but gathered the forlorn little figure +into her arms, and soothed and comforted the child with assurances +of her forgiveness and Alan's, too. + +"Now, Polly," she said, as she rose, "I must go back up-stairs to +my boy again. And if I were in your place, I would let this matter +rest a secret between ourselves, your parents and Alan. I promise +you that Molly and the other girls shall never know. But I am glad +that you felt you could come and tell me about it. We will hope we +can have Alan down-stairs before many days, and then you must run +in to see him." + +Two days later, a note came for Polly, just as she was starting +for school. + +"Alan wants to see you," it said; "come in for a few minutes." + +Polly needed no second bidding, but hurried away, glad at the +thought of seeing her friend once more. Mrs. Hapgood saw her +coming and met her at the door, to lead her up-stairs to Alan's +room. The boy was propped up with pillows, and his face looked +rather white and worn, but it lighted as Polly entered, and he +stretched out his hand to her eagerly. + +"Hullo, Poll!" he exclaimed. "I'm no end glad to see you." + +Mrs. Hapgood had left them alone together, but Polly did not stop +to notice that, as she darted impulsively to the bed, saying,-- + +"Oh, Alan!" + +Alan understood, but, being a boy, he only squeezed her hand +between his, as he said lightly,-- + +"Bother all that stuff, Polly! Molly was mean to tell, and I was +meaner to laugh at you, so I deserved to have my face washed. I +sent for you because I knew you'd hear I was sick and worry about +it. I didn't mean anybody to know, though." + +When Mrs. Hapgood came back again, after a few moments, she found +Polly sitting beside the bed, with a happier face than she had +worn since the memorable Monday noon, while Alan looked as +blissful as she; and when Polly took her departure, a little +later, the boy called after her,-- + +"Come again as soon as you can, Poll. You're a jolly little nurse, +and I like to have you round." + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + +THE PLAY. + + +It was the last week in March, and the time had finally come for +giving the long-discussed play, which had been delayed for some +weeks on account of Alan's illness. After the first acute attack +had passed, there followed, as a result of his drenching, a slow, +tedious form of rheumatism which kept him shut up in the house, +where he was forced to amuse himself as best he might. His sister +and cousins did what they could to make the time pass quickly and +pleasantly; but between school and their cooking club and their +frequent calls on Bridget, they had little time for the boy except +during the evenings, and he was mainly left to the society of his +mother. This had been the state of affairs for more than a week, +and Alan was becoming somewhat restless. He was not a saint, but +only one of the next best things, a bright, lovable boy; and +having rather exhausted his resources of reading, playing +solitaire, and talking to his mother, the evening usually found +him decidedly cross after his dull day, and he only half responded +to the girls' attempts to be entertaining. + +"I don't see what's come over Alan," said Molly, one afternoon, as +the girls were walking home from school together. "Pie's always +been so jolly, and now he's cross as can be. He doesn't act as if +he wanted to have anything to say to us, and goes off to bed as +soon as he can, after supper. I told him last night I thought he'd +better be ashamed of himself." + +As Molly spoke, they were just passing the Hapgood house. Polly +glanced up at Alan's window, in the wing, to see the back of a +yellow head, inside the glass. Molly followed the direction of her +eyes, and said, by way of explanation,-- + +"Alan's not down-stairs to-day. He said he didn't feel like it." + +"He isn't?" + +Polly paused irresolutely at the gate, then turned in. + +"What are you going to do, Polly?" asked Florence. + +"I'm going up to see Alan," responded Polly. + +"But I thought we were all going down to see Bridget." + +"Bother Bridget!" returned Polly, with some energy. "The rest of +you can go all the time, if you want to; but it's my impression +that charity begins at home. Here we've all of us had that +everlasting old Bridget on the brain, and let Alan get along as +best he can." + +"But Alan has mamma, and Bridget hasn't anybody but us," said +Molly, in a virtuous tone of self-denial. + +"I don't care if she hasn't," retorted Polly vehemently; "she has +five of you to coddle her, and you just go there because you like +the fun and think it sounds goody. There are enough of you without +me, and one of you can take my afternoon, till Alan gets better." + +"That's just like Polly," said Molly teasingly. "She always has +liked boys better than girls." + +Polly's face flushed. + +"You know that's not so, Molly! I've done my fair share with +Bridget, but now I think it isn't just right to go chasing off +after her when we're leaving Alan all alone. If you knew--" Polly +checked herself abruptly, then added more quietly, "I'll tell you +what, girls, it isn't like Alan to be cross, and if he is, there's +some good reason for it, so I think it's our place to find out +what's the matter." And turning away, she went into the house, +leaving her companions to go on to the hospital discussing, as +they walked along, "Polly's last freak." + +She stopped a moment to speak to Mrs, Hapgood, then ran directly +up-stairs and looked in at the partly open door. Alan was half +sitting, half lying on the sofa, with his book dropped, face +downward, on his knee, and his hands clasped at the back of his +head. Too much absorbed in his thoughts to notice her light step, +his face was turned away from the door, and he was scowling +moodily at a distant corner of the ceiling. + +"May I come in, or are you making up a poem and don't want to be +disturbed?" inquired Polly gaily, pushing the door wide open. + +The boy started up with quick enthusiasm. + +"Poll! How jolly of you to come in to see a fellow!" + +"Then I'm not in the way?" she asked, as she pulled off her coat. + +"What an idea! I was desperately lonesome, and somehow you always +seem to fit in better than the others. Molly teases, and Jessie +tires me. Katharine is better, only she's a little given to +gushing, and boys don't like that sort of thing, you know," +returned Alan frankly. + +"I'm very glad if I suit you," said Polly, devoutly hoping she +could succeed in avoiding the sin of teasing on the one hand, and +of sentimentality on the other. + +"Well, you do," replied Alan, with a heartiness which he did not +often show, for he was not much given to direct praise. "You're +first-rate company, Poll, and I'd been hoping you'd get time to +run in, for it's stupid in the house. I knew you would, when you +got round to it." + +"Oh, Alan, you just make me ashamed!" said Polly contritely. "I +ought to have been here before, and 'specially when I was the one +to blame for all this, too." + +"No use crying over spilt milk," answered Alan candidly. "I did +think you'd come before this; but you're here now, and so it's all +right. I've grown meek and am glad of small favors," he added, +with a merry, sidelong glance from his gray eyes. + +After that, not a day passed without a call from Polly. Now that +her conscience was awakened, she realized that she had rather +neglected her friend, and did all that lay in her power to make +amends for her past forgetfulness. Her mother encouraged her +visits, for she had learned from Mrs. Hapgood that they were a +benefit to Alan and a help to herself, so Polly dropped in at her +will, morning, noon, or night, and never failed to find a hearty +welcome. The other girls laughed a little at her devotion, but it +had no effect, so they went on their way, giving the boy the odds +and ends of their time, while Polly and Alan spent long, cosy +hours together, reading or playing games, with a perfect enjoyment +of each other's society which left them no opportunity to miss +their absent friends. Damon and Pythias, the girls called them, +and never were two friends more closely united, with a simple, +true affection, which, however, had no trace of the consciousness +that one was a boy, the other a girl. Two boys could not have been +more free from sentimentality, two girls were never farther from +any suggestion of budding flirtation. They were just well-tried +friends of long standing; and when, after four weeks, Alan went +back into school again, his loyalty to Polly was, if possible, +increased by the knowledge of the good times she had given up for +his sake. + +Aside from Alan's illness, the past weeks had brought to light +another cause for excitement. Aunt Jane was about to become the +second Mrs. Solomon Baxter. How, when, or where the fateful words +were spoken was never known. What powerful arguments Mr. Baxter +had brought to bear upon her, to overcome her aversion, to +domestic life, was never revealed. However, a week after Miss +Roberts had, in the presence of the children, addressed her guest +as "Solo--Mr. Baxter," she had taken her sister into her +confidence, and long before Alan was in school again, the matter +was publicly announced by Mr. Baxter's escorting her to church, +one Sunday morning, and marching up the aisle by her side, in full +view of the assembled congregation. + +This was the reason that, on the night of the play, Miss Roberts +and Mr. Baxter occupied two armchairs placed side by side in the +very front row of spectators, and that the captain's opening +speech was interrupted by a little giggle, as his eyes fell on the +faces before him. + +The curtain, rose on a "glade in the forest primaeval," as was +announced by the dozen playbills which did duty for the audience. +Evergreen boughs, a few potted plants, and a dingy, greenish +carpet were supposed to transform the stage into the glade in +question; but the audience had little time to study the scenery, +for the prompt entrance of the captain and a chosen companion +called up a hearty burst of applause. The over-critical might have +objected that English sailors do not, as a rule, have braids of +brown hair escaping from their hats, and that the brave captain +and explorer walked with some difficulty; but the speech and +action of the sailor were spirited, and the captain's halting step +was doubtless owing to temporary fatigue. Moreover, one glance at +the boyish face under the great cocked hat was enough to make the +most carping critic forget all other defects while, in strangely +modern idioms and with a lofty disregard for dates, the old-time +hero reminded his comrade of their long and perilous voyage over +the sea, of the great wilderness which lay before them, and of the +glory of reclaiming that wilderness to the civilization of the +Virgin Queen. The sailor resisted his eloquence and refused to +proceed, uttering mutinous threats. against his leader's life. But +even in this crisis, the captain's presence of mind did not fail +him, and, seeing that his persuasions and commands were of no +avail, he promptly bound the sailor, hand and foot, and was +preparing to carry him forward on his shoulders, when a fierce +war-whopp was heard, and three ferocious savages rushed in upon +them, just as the curtain fell. + +The second scene, was regarded by the actors as being their most +elaborate attempt. The room was darkened, and at the back of the +stage, three or four dusky braves were crouched about their camp +fire which, for the moment, had taken the form of an oil stove; +while in the foreground lay Alan and Jessie, bound and motionless, +awaiting the death which seemed inevitable. Jean had expended all +her energies on this scene, and the warriors smoked the peace- +pipe, inspected their medicines, and danced a war-dance with +befitting solemnity, while the captain writhed uneasily, not so +much with mental anguish as on account of the rheumatic twinges +which his cramped position had set to running up and down his legs +and back. Then, with a close fidelity to the old histories, an +imposing throne was brought in, and Jean, as Powhatan, mounted the +insecure structure; two stones were rolled into place at her feet, +the captives' heads were arranged on these comfortless pillows, +and a brave, ball-club in hand, took his place beside each. The +sailor proved himself a coward, but the captain was bold to the +last, and alternately defied the king and encouraged his weaker +companion, who was whimpering by his side. Then, in one long +speech which, absurdly out of keeping with the surroundings as it +was, yet had the ring of true pathos, the captain bade farewell to +home, wife, and children, and welcomed death in the name and for +the honor of queen and country. Even Aunt Jane's face grew a +little gentler as the boy voice went on to the close, and there +was a momentary hush, followed by a hearty burst of applause, +while Mrs. Adams, at the side, held Polly back, that her too hasty +entrance should not mar the scene. Then Pocahontas dashed wildly +in and, regardless of consequences, cast herself down on the +captain's prostrate body with a force that elicited a sudden "Ow!" +from the hero who had just dared to defy a savage king. But his +anguish was quickly repressed, and the scene went finely to its +close, when the fair Pocahontas herself loosed his fetters, raised +him to his feet, and once more threw herself into his arms, while +Powhatan embraced them both, with many paternal remarks uttered in +the choicest Indian gutterals. While the stage was being arranged +for the next scene, John and his Pocahontas were called before the +curtain to receive the applause they had fully earned. + +In the next two scenes, Jean had departed widely from the +traditional story. In the former one, the captain took the stage +alone and told over the story of his past life, dwelling with +especial emphasis on his charming wife and thirteen beautiful +children at home in mother England. His soliloquy was interrupted +by the entrance of a messenger from a ship just landed, and, after +a little political discussion, the messenger incidentally told him +of a cyclone which had blown down his house and destroyed his +entire family. The agony of the captain was tragic to behold, and +moved Mr. Baxter to wipe his eyes sympathetically, and then cast a +furtive glance at Aunt Jane who was apparently unmoved by this +strange similarity of fate. Perhaps she was reserving her sympathy +for Pocahontas. However, the captain's grief spent itself, and he +finally recovered himself with the novel consolation that +"thirteen always was an unlucky number." Then, dismissing the +messenger, he proceeded to walk up and down his cabin and take +counsel with his heart, how best to comfort himself in the future. +After suggesting many a plan and rejecting it as soon as +suggested, he resolved to set off immediately to Powhatan and ask +for the fair hand of Pocahontas. As the curtain fell on this third +scene, no one applauded more enthusiastically than Mr. Baxter. + +The next scene opened with the preparations for the marriage of +Pocahontas to the young planter, John Rolfe, which were +interrupted by the sudden appearance of the captain, who bent on +one knee before Powhatan, to ask his daughter's hand. Powhatan +consented joyfully, and when Rolfe quite naturally objected, the +captain proposed a duel, and killed his rival, under the very eyes +of Pocahontas, who smiled rapturously as she watched the expiring +agonies of her former lover. Then, turning to the captain, she +said confidingly,-- + +"And now, dear John, everything is all prepared, so what if we get +married at once?" + +Accordingly, the marriage was at once solemnized, with the +warriors as witnesses, while Powhatan descended from the throne to +give the bride away, and Rolfe opportunely came back to life in +time to serve as the clergyman who performed the ceremony. + +There was a long delay between the marriage and the closing scene +of the play; and while the audience discussed the past scenes, +there went on a great commotion behind the curtain, sounds of +murmuring and of moving furniture, mingled with excited whispers,-- + +"Where is my crown?" + +"Do somebody see if my train is all right!" + +"Where is my sword?" + +"Hush! Hush!" + +All this was enough to rouse the expectations of the audience, but +even they were not prepared for the blaze of glory which met their +eyes as the curtain rose on the court of England. Katharine and +Florence sat on the throne, as pretty and dainty a royal couple as +could be imagined. The play-bills had announced it as the court of +Queen Elizabeth, and Florence looked the queen to perfection, in +her trailing white silk gown, and with her mother's diamonds +blazing in her golden hair; but opinions varied as to the identity +of the haughty king by her side, for no one present was aware that +Elizabeth's kingdom had any such lordly appendage. Still, it was +all very picturesque and, as Polly had said, a great deal could be +attributed to poetical license, so nobody complained, if the +throne was a little overcrowded. Back of the queen were grouped +three maids of honor, elaborately and richly dressed in gowns that +rivalled the rainbow in variety and brilliancy of color; while at +the king's left, as a fitting symbol of the British Lion, crouched +old Leo, the Langs's great Saint Bernard. After a long pause to +allow the audience to study this gorgeous scene, Pocahontas and +her captain swept in and knelt at the foot of the throne. The +queen bowed gracefully, in recognition of their homage, and bade +them rise. Then, addressing the Lion and the maids, she called +them "the free men of England" and, bidding them recall the +captain's services to her realm, she announced her determination +to knight him on the spot. The captain and his bride knelt again, +while the queen not only gave him the royal accolade and dubbed +him Sir John, but went on to extend the ceremony to his devoted +wife, and saluted her as "My Lady Pocahontas, the fairest savage +in all London town." Then the royal pair stepped down from the +throne and, joining hands with My Lord, My Lady, and the maids, +and escorted by the British Lion who amiably wagged his tail in +token of approval, they advanced and bowed low to the audience as +the curtain fell on the play. The applause was enthusiastic and +prolonged, and the actors were rejoicing in their success when, as +the clapping of hands died away, Aunt Jane's voice was heard, +solemnly remarking,-- + +"Well, I do hope those children realize that all this story about +Pocahontas has been proved to be entirely without foundation. It +seems to me a great waste of time to get up a play that hasn't a +word of truth in it." + +"Isn't that just like Aunt Jane!" whispered Pocahontas in disgust. +"I wonder if she'd have liked it any better, if we'd acted out all +about her and her Mr. Baxter." + +A few moments later, the actors appeared, all in costume, to bring +small trays laden with good things for the refreshment of their +guests, and to receive congratulations on their play. Then they +gathered in the dining-room to have their share of the goodies and +discuss the evening, feeling that the best part of the whole was +the merry time of talking it over afterwards. + +"Oh," groaned Alan, taking off his hat as he helped himself to a +macaroon; "I didn't much think I should ever breathe again, to say +nothing of eating, after Pocahontas came down on me. Polly, I do +wish you'd go and get weighed, in the morning." "There's one favor +I'd like to ask," said Jessie. "If we ever play it over again, I +wish that when you get ready to kill us, you'd put us inside the +curtain. You were so eager about untying Alan that you forgot all +about me, and when the curtain came down, I was half inside it and +half outside, so that Mrs. Adams had to come and pull me back, +before I could get up." + +"If we ever play it again!" echoed Jean. "But you never will, with +my consent. I thought 'twas splendid, while I was writing it; when +we were rehearsing it, I thought 'twas pretty good; but while we +were playing it to-night before all those people, I thought it was +simply dreadful, and I was ashamed of myself for ever trying to +write such trash." + +"If you don't like it, you can write us another," said Jessie; +"but, for my part, this is good enough for me." + +"Are you through eating, children?" asked Mrs. Adams, putting her +head in at the door. "Mrs. Hapgood wants you all to sing +something, just to finish up the evening." + +It was an unexpected request, and for a moment, the actors +demurred, then held a hasty consultation. A few minutes later, +they appeared in Indian file, John Smith and his sailor leading +the way, and the rest following in their Indian costumes. +Katharine sat down at the piano and played a few solemn, slow +chords, then the others took up the chorus, the words of which +they had adapted for the occasion: + + "John Smith had a little Injun, + One little Injun girl." + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + +JOB GOES TO A FUNERAL. + + +"Do you know what a first-rate substitute for roast oysters these +are?" asked Alan, twirling the great metal spider with purplish +back and spiral wire legs that hung from the gas fixture. + +"No, nor you either, Alan," said Jessie. "They do, now honestly. +If you heat them up real hot, they smell just like roast oysters. +I knew a family once, that always kept one on hand, and when +provisions ran low, they'd set it to frying, and all sit round and +smell of it. It was 'most as good as eating them," persisted the +boy soberly. + +"Alan Hapgood," said his sister, "if you tell any more such +taradiddles, I'll send you home." + +"But what if I don't choose to go?" returned Alan. "Mrs. Adams +asked me here to spend the afternoon, and you wouldn't any of you +have known what was going on, if it hadn't been for me." + +"You shall stay and tell all the stories you like, Alan," said +Polly, coming to his defence as usual. "And if Molly doesn't like +it, she shall go home, her own self." + +"Come, Alan," urged Florence; "tell us another story, a real long +one, to help pass the time." + +"Hm! Let's see," mused Alan. "I don't know as I know any. I'll +tell you, I read one a while ago that I liked pretty well, and if +I get hard up, I can put in some of that. How'll that do?" + +"Beautifully," said Polly, with enthusiasm. "You do tell such +splendid stories, Alan." + +The group in Mrs. Adams's parlor had gathered there for a strange +purpose, that day. An old negro, well-known throughout the town, +had died, two days before, and Alan had discovered, only that +noon, that the man was to be buried with military honors. The line +of march to the cemetery lay past the Adams house, so Mrs. Adams +had asked them all to come there, to watch the solemn pageant. It +was a cold, gray April day, threatening rain at any moment. As the +girls and Alan reached the gate, they had paused, for a minute, to +watch the fast-gathering crowd as it hurried away up the street to +the old brown house, just visible in the distance, whose end, +jutting out on the street, was surrounded with the members of the +company, who had assembled to pay the last honors to their +sleeping comrade. Under the dull, leaden sky, and in the shade of +the arching elms, the old house and the road and the gray-coated +men looked to the children as if the heavy shadow which rested +over the silent room within had extended over them all, and was +enveloping them in its sombre gloom. Though only a moment before, +they had been laughing and talking in mere curious interest, they +grew suddenly quiet, as they realized that the swift, mysterious +summons had come to old Pete, whom they had known so well. + +"And they say," said Alan, as Polly joined them at the gate, and +they lingered there, "that Pete's little dog won't leave the room +one minute, but just lies there and watches him. They tried to get +him away, for the funeral, but he snarled at them so they had to +let him be." + +Katharine's face softened. + +"That's a friend worth having," said she thoughtfully. "Some +people say 'only a dog,' but if he is faithful to his master, even +after death has come, what more can he do?" + +"Oh, dear me; there's Job!" exclaimed Polly suddenly, as the old +creature stalked into sight. "How did he get out?" + +"I wonder if we could get him in," said Alan. + +"It's no use; he'd only kick you," returned Polly. "We may as well +come into the house, and let him alone; then perhaps he'll go in. +He's awfully obstinate, you know." + +"I think I've noticed something of the kind," said Jessie, as they +ran up the steps, and left Job to the quiet workings of his +conscience. + +By the time they were gathered in the parlor windows, their +momentary quiet was over, and they were talking as gaily as ever +while they gazed up the street, watching for the first signs of +the procession. But the funeral services were long, and the girls' +patience was rapidly becoming exhausted when Florence had +suggested Alan's telling them a story, to while away the time of +waiting. The girls arranged themselves before the two long front +windows, to look and listen at the same time, Katharine, Florence, +and Jean at one, Molly and Jessie at the other, with Alan and +Polly on the floor at their feet, and the lad began his tale. + +"Once upon a time, about sixty-seven years and nine months ago, +there was a young man in England that was rich and handsome and +brave and good, and his name was--Oh, give us a name for him, +Poll." + +"Mortimer Vincent Augustin Thome," responded Polly promptly. "I +think that's a lovely name." + +"Too long," objected Alan. "Something shorter, not but one." + +"Malcolm, then; will that suit?" asked Florence, from the other +side of the room. + +"Yes, that's good. Well, his name was Malcolm, and he fell in love +with a girl named--" + +"Gertrude," suggested Jean, without waiting to be asked. + +"No, Margaret," said Polly. "That's ever so much better." + +"All right, call her Margaret," said Alan; "but if you girls don't +keep still, I never can tell you any story. Malcolm loved Margaret +and wanted her to be his bride, but she was kept a captive in a +tower, by a wicked uncle who had gone on a crusade to the Holy +Land." + +"But they didn't go on crusades sixty-seven years ago," said Jean, +whose strong point was history. + +"Will you keep still, Jean?" said Polly. "This isn't a true story, +and he has as good a right to poetical license as you had in the +play." + +"The Holy Land," resumed Alan, not noticing the interruption; "and +he had taken the keys to the tower in his pocket, so Malcolm +didn't really know just what to do. At last, after he had tried +all sorts of things, he took his banjo and went under the tower +window and sang a little song that Margaret had made up, when they +were children together." Here Alan paused to smile meaningly at +Polly, before he went on. "It was a very sweet song, and his voice +was loud enough so Margaret heard him and opened a window to peek +out. She knew him as soon as she saw him, and she wrote a letter +and tied it to a string and let it down to him. He read it and +wrote an answer, and was just getting ready to send it up, the +same way, when a great, fierce ruffian with a bloodhound pounced +on him, and threw him into the very darkest dungeon in the cellar +of the tower. He was pretty much scared, for he was all in the +dark, and he was without any food or anything to drink, and he +only had his banjo to comfort him. But he was so glad it wasn't +Margaret that was there, that he didn't much mind anything else. +But that wasn't the worst of it. His prison walls kept growing +smaller and smaller, till by and by it began to get so tight that +it hurt him. It didn't stop, even then, but it grew so small that +his bones began to break, till finally he found that he only had +one whole one left. That stirred him up, and he said to himself, +'If I don't find a way out, I shall be a dead man!' So he pounded +on the walls, to see what they were made of, and found they were +iron; but he knew the floor was earth, so he began to dig as fast +as he could, and he used his banjo for a scoop, to carry off the +earth in." + +"Where'd he carry it to?" inquired Jessie. "I thought he didn't +have any room to move round." + +"He didn't, very much," said Alan; "but he made the most of every +little corner, and before long he had dug down far enough to come +to just the jolliest little secret passage you ever saw. He +slipped down into it, and followed it along and along ever so far, +till at last he came up to the light again, outside the walls of +the tower. He swung his hat in the air and shouted, 'Three cheers +for Queen Victoria!' and then he ran round under Margaret's window +and took his banjo and sang the song once more, to let her know he +was alive. Then, without wasting any more time, he ran off through +the forest. But when he came to the top of the very first hill, he +looked back and saw Margaret leaning out of the window, waving a +pale blue flag with the word courage on it, in gilt letters." + +"Where did she get such a thing?" asked Jean. + +"Oh, she'd been making it, while he was in the dungeon," answered +Alan. "So he went away to the Holy Land, to look for the wicked +uncle. He walked every step of the way, and swam rivers and +climbed up mountains and slid down on avalanches on the other +side, and at last he came to Jerusalem. He found the uncle just +leading four regiments against the city gates, mounted on a +splendid white horse. And he looked down and smiled scornfully and +said, 'What ho, Malcolm! You here?' That made Malcolm very mad, so +he pulled the uncle off his horse and hit him, thump! with his +banjo, and killed him. Then he looked in his pockets and found +ever so much money; but, hard up as he was, for he'd had his +pockets picked on the way, he didn't take the money, for he wanted +something else. It was found at last, a little gold key hung round +his neck on a silver chain; so Malcolm took the key and went home, +riding the uncle's horse, and let out Margaret, and they lived +happy and died happy, and she was heir to all the tower and the +servants. But the first thing she did was to block the walls of +the dungeon, so they couldn't move any more." + +"Oh, Alan, Alan! Where did you get such a story?" said Katharine, +laughing until the tears came. + +"Get it? Made it up, of course," returned the boy, with evident +pride in his tale. + +"It must be splendid to be able to make up such stories!" sighed +Polly enviously. "I'd give almost anything if I could do it." + +"I should hope if you tried, yours would hang together a little +better," said Molly who, in virtue of her relationship, felt +privileged to be as critical as she chose. "It's a mystery to me +how he could move round to dig up the floor when all his bones +were broken, and I never heard that you could use a banjo for a +shovel and then play on it, or hit a man hard enough to kill him, +and not break it.' + +"I don't care for all that," said Polly enthusiastically. "Anybody +could tell a story and get rid of those things. What I like is the +things he did, he was so brave and so true, and then his not +touching any of the uncle's money was the best part of it all, +when he needed it so much." + +"But he stole the uncle's horse," objected Jean. + +"He didn't steal it, he only took it home. And speaking of horses, +I wonder what's become of Job." And Polly leaned forward to peer +out of the window. + +"There he is, over in the next lot," said Jessie. + +Dr. Adams's house stood far back from the street, and next to it +was a deep, vacant lot at the very rear of which Job was aimlessly +wandering about, pausing now and then to nip at the tender green +blades that were pushing their way up through the brown, dead +turf. + +"What ever sent him in there!" said Polly. "I don't see how we can +get him home." + +"Let him alone long enough, and he'll come," predicted Molly. +"It's no use to chase him round and round, and if you drive him +out into the street, he'll run away." + +"I wish he would," said Polly explosively, "and never come back +again! He's more trouble than he's worth, and he knows more than +all the rest of us put together." + +"Give him to Aunt Jane for a wedding present," Alan proposed. + +"She'd think 'twas signing her death warrant," answered Polly, +laughing. "You know he did duty at the funeral of Mrs. Baxter the +first." + +"Oh dear, it seems as if they never would come!" sighed Jessie +impatiently. "What does keep them so long?" + +"Do somebody tell another story," said Florence. "Can't you, +Katharine?" + +"I should never dare, after Alan's wonderful success," replied +Katharine lightly, as she took out the daffodil she had been +wearing in her buttonhole and tossed it over to her cousin. Then +she added soberly, "It isn't any story at all, but I believe, +while we wait, I'll tell you about the saddest funeral I ever saw +in my life." + +"Go on, Kit; you have the floor," said Alan encouragingly. + +"It isn't much to tell, but you've no idea how pitiful it was to +see," the girl went on thoughtfully. "Just a year ago this spring, +papa had to go West on business, and he took me with him. We had +to stay two or three days in a little bit of a town up in the +Rocky Mountains, and while we were there, a young woman died. She +had only been married a month, and had just come out from New +England, to live in the cunning little new house that her husband +had built. It was a winter of very deep snow, even for that +region, and when it melted, it grew soft all the way down through, +before it seemed to go away, any at all. The cemetery was away +from the town, up on the side of the mountain, just the loneliest, +most desolate place you can imagine; and it seemed so sad to take +her away and leave her there all alone. It was a long, long +procession, and papa and I stood at the window to watch it, as it +went through the town, and on out into the open country, where no +road had been broken. Then, for a mile or two, the long black line +crawled along over the snow, while the horses floundered about, +half buried in the drifts, and the hearse tipped this way and +that, as first one wheel would sink down out of sight, and then +another. At last it wound around the foot of the hill, and we +couldn't see it any more; but I kept feeling so sorry for the poor +little wife and for the lonely husband in his new house." + +Katharine paused, but there was no word spoken, so she went on,-- + +"A month later we spent Sunday there, on our way home. The snow +had all melted and, in the afternoon, I teased papa to walk up to +the cemetery with me. We remembered the name, so we could find the +grave easily enough. It was perfectly bare, without any grass on +it, but at the head was a rough little cross made of two boards +nailed together, with her name painted on it, in black letters +that were a little unsteady, as if somebody's hand shook when he +was making them; and at the foot of the cross lay one tiny bunch +of white immortelles, to show that she wasn't quite forgotten. But +when we turned to look at the view, it didn't seem sad, any more. +The little, low, dingy town lay below us, as if she had risen +above it, and all around us, the great, soft, kind mountains stood +up in the sun to guard her and watch over her, in her sleep. The +shabby cross and the little posy and the magnificent brown +mountains were all so much more kind and loving than our piles of +marble and fussy flowers arranged for show, that when I came down +the hill, I didn't feel sorry for her, any longer." + +The hush that followed Katharine's simple story was unbroken for +some moments. Then Polly sprang up excitedly,-- + +"The drums! Don't you hear them?" And she rushed away to call her +mother. + +The procession was moving, at last, and the distant roll of +muffled drums could be plainly heard by the girls, as they pressed +closely to the window. Touched, as they had been, by the account +of that far-away funeral among the mountains, they were in just +the mood to be impressed by the scene which was passing before +them. And, in truth, any one who stood looking on, that day, must +have felt the impressiveness of the long line as it slowly filed +down the broad street under the graceful arches of the tall old +elms, in the cold light of the cloudy afternoon. First came the +drum corps, with wailing fife and muffled drum; next appeared the +gray uniforms of the company who marched two by two, with bowed +heads and reversed arms, to escort the hearse in their midst. +Directly behind the hearse trotted a small, yellow figure, at +sight of whom Alan stealthily drew his hand across his eyes. It +was Pete's faithful friend, the little Scotch terrier, who was +following his master to his last resting-place, with a sturdy +determination not to leave his good old master with whom he had +spent such a happy little life. Then followed the line of +carriages and the straggling groups on foot; but the girls paid +little heed to them, for Polly said, in a sudden whisper,--"Just +look at Job!" + +For a long time the old horse had been quietly grazing, without so +much as raising his head to take breath and look about him, so +greedy was he for the first tender grass-blades of the spring. +Suddenly he heard the roll of the drums and threw up his head to +listen, with eager ears and dilating eyes, as if the sound +recalled to him some vague memory of his far-off youth. So proud +and spirited he looked as he stood there, that it was evident +that, in fancy, he was living over his former days, perhaps +listening to the triumphant strains of music which heralded the +close of the rebellion. As the sound came nearer, and yet nearer, +he appeared to be under its spell and slowly moved down towards +the street, arching his glossy neck and stepping high, in perfect +time to the music. Fifty feet from the fence, he stopped and gazed +at the scene before him, still spellbound by the martial sounds +and the memories they called up in his mind, while the group in +the Adams's windows watched him intently, amazed at the life and +fire in the old creature's pose and manner. Still Job stood +watching the soldiers, listening to the band until it had moved +onward, past the spot where he was. Then his eyes fell on the +hearse, and he took one eager step forward. Surely that was a +familiar sight! The carriages came next, and by that time there +was no hesitancy in his mind; for at length he recognized all the +solemn import of the procession. It was a funeral, and in funerals +Job had often borne a conspicuous part. The band was doubtless his +call to duty; and should any one say that he had failed, even in +his old age, to respond to this call? He took another step +forward, paused again, for only one instant; then, just as the +last carriage passed the gate, he swung his aged tail round and +round, in two rapturous, joyful whisks, and with tossing head and +flying mane, he trotted rapidly out into the street, overtook the +procession and, dropping into a decorous walk just as his nose +touched the back of the rear carriage, he marched solemnly off +down the street, with patient resignation and unending sadness +depicted in every line of his old brown body. + +Inside the parlor the girls, without a thought of their past +interest in Pete's funeral, turned and gazed at each other in +silence for a moment, then sank to the floor, in uncontrollable, +though noiseless laughter. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +MISS BEAN'S VISIT IS RETURNED. + + +Still another month had passed and it was late in May when, one +bright Saturday morning, Jessie, Polly, and Alan drove away +through the town and out over the western hills. Cob was as full +of life and spirits as they were, and they went gaily onward with +no particular destination in view, but only intent on enjoying the +soft, warm air and the abundance of spring life all about them. +Birds in every tree, green leaves and bright blossoms on every +hand, and over them all the clear, yellow sunlight, these were +enough for the happy young people in the carriage. + +"Dear me!" sighed Polly. "When we begin to have days like this, it +does seem as if vacation never, never would come. I can't bear to +stay in school and work over books in such weather. I'd much +rather stay outside and watch things grow." + +"Let's cut school for the rest of the term, Polly," suggested +Alan, "and take Job and drive off out of the world somewhere, and +not come back till winter." + +"Thank you, no. I'll take Cob, if Jessie is willing, for we +couldn't get outside of the town with _Job_, if we had +_any_ idea of getting _back_ by Christmas," rejoined +Polly, laughing. + +"Take Cob and welcome, if I can go with you," said Jessie. "Seems +to me I never felt so before, but I don't want to stay in school +any more than Polly does. Perhaps it's because your springs are +pleasanter than ours." + +"I shouldn't wonder if they were," said Polly reflectively, as +regardless of freckles, she took off her hat and let the sun +strike full upon her ruddy curls. "Isn't this perfect?" she added, +with a sigh of content. "I do believe everything is nicer in +Massachusetts than it is anywhere else. I'm glad I happened to be +born in the Bay State." + +Jessie laughed outright at the fervor of her tone. Then she said, +as she drew Cob down to a slow walk, to enjoy a bit of road that +lay under a group of tall pines,-- + +"After all, I shall be sorry to have vacation come, for as soon as +this term is over, we shall have to go home, and I don't want to, +one bit." + +"Sorry to leave me, aren't you, Cousin Jessie?" asked Alan, with, +mock sentiment. + +"Don't flatter yourself, young man," said Polly, in parenthesis, +as Jessie went on. seriously,-- + +"Why, yes, I suppose I shall miss you, Alan; but it's the girls +that I care most for. We've had such good times doing things +together, and next year I shall be forlorn enough, for Kit will +come out, and I shall be left all to myself." + +"Come back here," suggested Alan quite hospitably, considering the +frank way in which Jessie had spoken of her slight regret at +leaving him. + +"Without Kit? Never!" replied Jessie earnestly. "I'd rather be +with her and have only a dozen words a day from her, than have to +be separated from her. I've always been fond of her, but it seems +to me she was never half so lovely as she's been this last year." + +Polly stepped on Alan's toe, under cover of the robe, and was met +by an answering flash from the gray eyes, but neither spoke, as +Jessie continued,--"You do so many more things here, and have so +much better times, you girls, that Kit and I both wish papa and +mamma would come back here to live. Omaha is pleasant enough, and +the river is lovely,--when it isn't muddy; but I shall miss these +hills and the elms and the lazy look of the old town. I like old +things best. And what do you suppose I shall miss, most of all?" + +"Job" and "Aunt Jane," suggested Alan and Polly, in a breath. + +"You're too bad to laugh at me." And Jessie tried to pout, but it +was too hard work, so she gave up the attempt and laughed instead. +"No, it's the garret at your house, Alan, with all the old +spinning wheels and warming pans. Some day, when I get my cats, +I'll come back here to live, see if I don't." And Jessie nodded +with decision as she started up Cob once more. + +"Oh, dear! Next year doesn't mean much fun for me," groaned Polly. +"I shall have to begin Latin and Greek and all sorts of dreadful +things, so as to get ready for college." + +"Then you are really going," said Jessie. "What makes you do it, +if you don't want to?" + +"It's been the family plan ever since I was a baby," said Polly; +"and there's no use in trying to change it. Besides, I don't think +I mind it much, or shan't when I once get there. I want to know a +few things when. I'm grown up, even if I'm not a lawyer or a +doctor,--but I'm going to leave that for Alan," + +"Don't worry about that, Polly," said Alan. "At present rate of +progress, if I lose a month or two of school every winter, I +shouldn't get through college till long after you were dead and +out of the way. And then, I don't think I want to be a doctor, +anyway." + +"Now, Alan," retorted Polly; "that's not quite fair of you, when +you know how my heart is set on having you. a splendid doctor, and +in time taking papa's place. I've told you, time and time again, +that if I had a brother, he would have to be one; and, as long as +I haven't, you're the next best thing. You'd make such a splendid +one, too. I know, for I asked papa if you wouldn't, and he said +yes. He said--" Polly came to a sudden pause. + +"Said what, Poll? Out with it." + +"I wasn't going to tell, for fear 'twould make you conceited," +returned Polly; "but if I thought it would make any difference +with your plans, I'd run the risk, only you must be really in +earnest about it, Alan, and think it all over. He said you had +just the character that goes to make a good doctor, brave and true +and unselfish, and always gentle and calm and jolly. Now doesn't +that make you want to be something grand?" And Polly turned to +look at the boy, with all her earnestness, all her love for him +lighting her face and beautifying it, in spite of the brown +freckles on her cheeks. + +Alan's face flushed and his eyes were shining, as he asked +eagerly,-- + +"Did Dr. Adams really say all that about me?" + +"Yes, he said so only the other day, and I suppose I oughtn't to +have told you; but, ever since our talk one day last winter when +you'd been to the hospital, I've been hoping and hoping that some +day you'd be just the right kind of a doctor, one that cures his +patients, whether they can pay or not, and makes them love him, in +spite of the horrid things he has to do to them. If you'd only do +that, Alan, I should be so proud of you." + +"Should you, Poll? Well, I'll think about it, but it's too soon to +make up my mind yet. Mother wants me to be a minister." + +"You a minister! Why, Alan, you'd laugh, even in the middle of a +sermon; and I know you'd never go to a funeral without thinking +how Job went, the other day. And anyway, I'd a great deal rather +be a doctor, for they do more good. Ministers _talk;_ doctors +_do_." + +"Some ministers _do_," said Jessie. + +"Yes, some of them; but it's their business to preach, and that's +all most of them try to do. You won't hear of many ministers that +get up, cold winter nights, every night for a week, to go to see +one poor little croupy baby, just for love of it, and not +expecting to get a cent. I don't believe that, taken year in and +year out, there are many missionaries that work harder or do more +good than papa does." + +"Not many doctors, either," suggested Alan. + +"That may be; but just his doing it proves that it can be done, if +anybody is willing to try. Don't shirk that way, Alan; it isn't +like you. You can do it just as well as he can, and I mean you +shall, some day, if teasing can do any good." + +"Do you know, Polly," said Jessie; "you've talked about it till +you make me want to be a doctor, myself. I don't suppose mamma +would ever let me, but I'd like to try, and I think I could do +it." + +"Why don't you, then?" asked Polly heartily. "I don't want to +myself, and I shouldn't succeed. I should be like the old doctor +papa tells about, that used to swear at his patients when they +didn't mind him. I never could keep cool when things went wrong. +Besides, I think it's a man's work, more than a woman's." + +"I'd like to be one, and prove that you are wrong," returned +Jessie, with some spirit. + +"If I really made up my mind to be a doctor, I'd be a good one, if +I had to give up everything else for the sake of it; but it isn't +in my line," said Polly a little regretfully. "But when you and +Alan are famous all over the world, I'll go around telling +everybody how I was the first one to start you in that line; and +they'll all be grateful to me, even if I haven't any career, see +if they aren't." + +"In the meantime," said Alan, suddenly breaking off the +conversation, "has anybody the slightest idea where we are?" + +"I haven't," said Jessie, pulling up Cob abruptly. "I've been so +busy talking and thinking that I haven't paid any attention to +where we were going." + +"I never saw this road before," said Polly. "It's too far out of +town for Job's wanderings. But go on; we shall come to a house or +a guideboard before long." + +"To judge by the sun and by my appetite," remarked Alan pensively, +"it must be almost noon." + +"Oh, that makes me think!" exclaimed Polly. "Get up, Alan; you're +right on them!" + +"On what?" inquired the boy lazily, without stirring. + +"On the gingersnaps. Mamma gave me some to put in my pocket, in +case we should get hungry, and here you've been sitting on top of +them, all the way!" There was an accent of despair in Polly's +tone. + +Alan rose, and she plunged her hand into her pocket. + +"Just look here!" she said accusingly, as she drew out a crumpled +paper bag. + +Alan caught it from her hand and peered down into it. + +"Pulverized gingersnaps!" he exclaimed. "Want some, Jessie?" + +"I'm so hungry, I'm thankful for anything," she replied. "Let's +eat up the largest pieces ourselves, Polly, and make Alan take the +dust for his share, for he was the one to blame." + +"I know it, and now he'll never know how good they were," returned +Polly relentlessly, as the girls devoured the contents of the bag, +even to the last crumb. "He deserves to go hungry." + +"But what's that building over there?" asked Jessie, a little +later, pointing to a great red house on the side of a distant +hill. + +"That? That's the poorhouse," replied Polly, after studying it for +a minute or two. "I came here once with papa, ever so long ago. +I'd like to know how we ever managed to get here; it's seven or +eight miles from town." + +"Seven or eight miles from town! And we are dying of starvation," +said Alan. + +"Speak for yourself, please; Jessie and I have had lunch," said +Polly. "But," she went on, struck with a sudden thought, "let's go +and see Miss Bean, and maybe she'll invite us to dinner. She ought +to, for she's been fed at our house often enough." + +Jessie fell in with the idea. + +"Let's try it, anyway," she said. "I've always wanted to see what +they do in such a place, and I don't believe there would be any +harm in it." + +"What harm could there be?" said Polly. "We needn't tell her we've +come to dinner; only, if she should happen to ask us, we could +stay, after she's teased a little." + +Turning from the main road, they drove under the great gateway and +followed a winding drive up to the very door of the house. A few +old crones sat in a row by the door, chattering like so many +venerable crows; but when they caught sight of the children, their +voices sank to whispers, as they watched Alan spring to the +ground, hold up his arms to help Polly and Jessie, and then +deliberately tie Cob to the nearest post. + +At sight of the women in their plain white caps and dark calico +gowns, Jessie was seized with a nervous desire to laugh, and hid +behind Polly, whispering,-- + +"You do the talking, Polly; I can't." + +"But what shall I say?" returned Polly, in the same tone. + +"Isn't there a matron or something?" said Jessie doubtfully. "Ask +for her." + +By this time, Alan had joined them and they held a hasty +consultation, as a result of which Alan walked straight up to the +old women. Hat in hand, and a smile on his bright, boyish face, he +bowed low before them and asked if he could be directed to the +matron's room. Alan's smile never failed to move a woman's heart, +no matter whether she was old or young. In the present instance, +one of the aged dames tottered to her feet, saying,-- + +"Bless your heart, sonny! I'll show you, myself, to pay for your +sweet manners." And she toddled away, followed by the girls and by +Alan whose sweet manners had collapsed into a stifled giggle at +the unlooked-for compliment. + +They were taken into a long, wide hall through the middle of which +ran a strip of rag carpet, edged with plain wooden settees. +Everything was scrupulously neat and clean, but the only ornament +in sight was a stuffed poodle under a glass case, above which hung +the somewhat inappropriate motto: _God loveth a cheerful +giver_. Here they were told to sit down, while the old woman +went in search of the matron. The next few moments were rather +uncomfortable for all three of the children. Now that they were +really inside the institution, they were a little frightened at +what they had done; and yet the ridiculous side of their being +there struck them so keenly that they dared not speak, for fear of +being found laughing, when the all-powerful matron should make her +appearance. At length she came, a trim little woman, with an +earnest face and a business-like manner. At Polly's request to be +allowed to see Miss Bean, she shook her head doubtfully. + +"It isn't one of our regular visiting days," she began." Was your +errand an important one?" + +"Not very," returned Polly, with a lingering accent on the second +word, as she caught the sound of a distant clatter of dishes and +breathed in a vague odor of boiled beef. + +"I am sorry to disappoint you," the matron went on; "and if you +have come all the way from town, it is too bad to send you back +without seeing her, for a minute. Call Miss Bean," she said to a +servant. "What name shall I tell her?" she asked Polly. + +"Polly Adams, ma'am," answered Polly. + +The matron became suddenly cordial, like a snowbank under the rays +of the spring sun. + +"Isn't this Dr. Adams's daughter?" she asked. "I thought I saw a +familiar look about the lower part of the face." + +"Yes, Dr. Adams is my father," said Polly, whose hopes of staying +sprang into life once more. + +"Indeed! I am very glad to see you for his sake," returned the +matron. "Perhaps he sent you?" + +"No--o, he didn't send us; we came," faltered Polly. + +"Never mind; I am glad to see you, anyway. And these are your +young friends, I suppose. Wouldn't you all like to stay and have +dinner here? It is almost ready," she added, in a generous burst +of hospitality. + +"Thank you, we should be delighted," said Alan hastily, fearing +Polly might lose the opportunity by politely hesitating. + +"Well, Polly Adams, where in the name of time did you come from?" +asked Miss Bean's voice behind her. + +Polly turned around. Could this be Miss Bean, this little, +withered figure in the calico gown and white cap? Where was the +green and black gown? Where were the lace mitts and the shaker +bonnet? However, there could be no doubt of Miss Bean's identity +when she said, in her usual abrupt manner,-- + +"How's your ma? And who are these children?" + +"This is Alan Hapgood," replied Polly, introducing her friends; +"and this is Jessie Shepard." + +"You don't say so! Henry and Kate Shepard's daughter, from out in +Omaha?" + +"Yes." + +Miss Bean completed Jessie's embarrassment by critically +scrutinizing her from head to foot, then asking suddenly,-- + +"Do they dress much out in. Omaha?" + +This unexpected question sent Alan, off to examine the stuffed +poodle, while Miss Bean turned to Polly again. + +"Did your ma send you?" + +"No, ma'am," said Polly. + +"Then what did you come for?" was the hospitable query. + +"We were driving this way, and so we stopped to see you," answered +Polly, with a feeling of shame at her own insincerity. + +"Much obliged," returned Miss Bean, with grim sarcasm; then she +added, "How's your Uncle Solomon? I always thought he and Miss +Roberts would come round, if I only just put 'em in a way to think +of it." + +Miss Bean's questions bade fair to last indefinitely, but +fortunately the dinner bell sounded, and the matron came back to +lead her young guests into the great dining-room, at one end of +which she had arranged a small table with seats for them, and for +Miss Bean who was regarded with no small degree of envy, as she +took her place in this honored circle. The matron seated herself +with Alan, and Jessie at her left, Polly and Miss Bean at her +right, and the simple dinner of boiled beef and vegetables was +brought in. Except for an occasional request for food, the meal +was eaten in silence, while the old people curiously watched the +matron's group, and listened eagerly to the conversation they kept +up. Polly, too, was silent, gazing with a curious fascination at +the long line of aged faces, some peaceful, others querulous, but +all so alike that the row of them seemed to become an endless +perspective of white caps and wagging jaws. Her reverie was +interrupted by Miss Bean, who leaned across the table to say +reprovingly to Jessie, as she refused the boiled cabbage,-- + +"Folks that go a-visiting hadn't ought to be difficult with their +victuals." + +"Can you imagine anything more dreadful than to live in such a +place?" exclaimed Polly, as they drove away, after being conducted +over the establishment. "I'd work and scrimp, year after year, +rather than, just sit down and be supported by the town." + +"Yes," answered Jessie; "but I suppose they do have real good +times, in their way." + +"So does a cat that eats her milk, and then goes to sleep in the +sun," returned Polly. "That may be their way, but I'm thankful it +isn't mine." + +"I presume all they care for is to have enough to eat, and to keep +warm in winter and cool in summer," said Alan. "Some of them +looked as old as the Rocky Mountains, and I don't see why they +shouldn't live forever, doing nothing but sun themselves." + +"I'd rather live a little shorter time, and live a little harder, +while I'm about it," said Polly. "I think I prefer wearing out to +rusting out." + +It was late in the afternoon when they reached the town once more, +and drove up the street to Polly's house. Mrs. Adams was at the +gate, watching for them. + +"At last!" she exclaimed. "I was really getting quite anxious +about you, for fear Cob had run away, or you were lost. Aren't you +hungry? Where have you been?" + +"Oh, no, we aren't hungry," said Alan, as he jumped out to help +Polly to the ground. "We've been to dinner at the poorhouse, and +Jessie has disgraced us all, by refusing to eat cabbage." + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + +MR. BAXTER TAKES A NAP. + + +They had all been at the Langs's that afternoon. The third of June +was Florence's fourteenth birthday, and Mrs. Lang had celebrated +the day by giving a little afternoon tea on the broad piazza, +overlooking the grounds. It had been a pretty sight, with the +dainty gowns of the girls, and the active figures of the few boys +who had been favored with invitations to share in the games on the +lawn. The ever-present amateur photographer had thought so too, +apparently, and from his position in the street, he had already +aimed his detective camera at them, when Alan discovered him and +gave the alarm, only just in time to prevent his stolen success. + +Polly and Jean walked home with the Hapgoods in the early +twilight, and, refusing Mrs. Hapgood's invitation to go into the +house, the girls settled themselves on the two high-backed seats +at either side of the broad front porch, and gave themselves up to +the luxury of talking over the event of the day. + +"It must be fun to be able to have company, and do it up in such +splendid style as Mrs. Lang does," said Jean a little enviously, +as she pulled out the bunch of pink clover she had worn at her +belt. + +"It was lovely, wasn't it?" assented Molly. "Mrs. Lang doesn't do +it often, but when she does have a party, it is always perfect." + +"After all," said Katharine, "it's all from the outside, somehow. +I don't know whether you understand what I mean, but I know, +myself." + +"I'm glad you do, Kit," said her sister disrespectfully; "for it's +certain that nobody else does. Remember that we are young, and +explain yourself a little." + +"I did really mean something, Jessie," said Katharine. "With Mrs. +Lang, it seems as if she set the day and gave her orders to the +servants, and that's all there was about it. Of course she +entertains charmingly, and all that; but it makes me feel, all the +time, as if she did it to pay her debts, and not because she likes +to have us there. When we go to--well, to Polly's, for instance, +I. never think of that, for Mrs. Adams always acts as if she +enjoyed us as much as we enjoy being there." + +"She does," answered Polly, with conviction. "She says she never +half grew up, for she likes young people now better than she does +those of her own age." + +"It must be horrid to have to give parties, whether you want to or +not, just because somebody else has invited you," remarked Molly. + +"That's the way they all do in society, though," said Jessie, with +a knowing air. + +"Well, if that's society, then. I don't want any of it," said +Polly ungratefully, while she ran her fingers through her hair and +stood it wildly on end. "I just want my friends, and I want them +whenever I feel like it; but I don't care anything about having a +crowd of people round in the way, just because it's fashionable, +when I don't, care a snap for them. If I ever grow up and come +out, as they call it, I'm going to like my friends for themselves, +and not for their clothes and their parties and their good +dinners. I can buy those at a hotel, if I get hungry." + +"And when hotels fail, there is always the poorhouse," suggested +Jean. "But, girls, do you ever want to be very, very rich, just +for a little while?" + +"I don't think I ever stopped to think much about it," answered +Polly; "but I suppose it would be fun." + +"'Tisn't so much that I want more things than I have," said Jean; +"but, not often, only just once in a while, I do so wish I could +go ahead and be real extravagant, spend ever so much money for all +sorts of foolish things, have parties and fine clothes, and travel +everywhere I wanted. I know perfectly well that I shouldn't enjoy +myself half so much as I do now, when I have to work for all I +get; but still, I'd like to try the other, just for a change." + +"And then, after a little while, you'd be longing to get back +again," returned Polly. "I don't believe life is all fun, even to +people that are very rich. I never saw anybody yet that I wanted +to change places with." + +"Let's all tell what we would do, if we were very rich and could +have just what we wanted," suggested Alan, from the step. + +"All right, only do come in under cover, child," said Polly, in a +maternal tone; "or else you'll be so stiff to-morrow that you +can't move." And she tucked up the skirt of her best gown, to make +room for the lad, who obediently settled himself between her and +Katharine. + +"Go it, Jean," he said; "you started us to wishing, so it's only +fair you should speak first. What would you do, if you could have +your choice?" + +"Study, till I knew everything there was to be known," returned +Jean, without hesitation. "I'd go to college here, and then I'd go +to Europe, to one city after another, and learn all I could in +each." + +"You'd be a perfect valley of dry bones, then," commented Polly. +"People that know everything are very stupid." + +"I wouldn't be," said Jean. "I'd found colleges with my money, and +go round lecturing to them, till they knew just as much as I did." + +"H'm!" said Alan. "What will you do, Poll?" Polly laughed. + +"It would be hard to choose, but I think I'd begin by adopting +about twenty small boys. Then, if I had any time left, I'd--I'd-- +oh, I think perhaps I'd like to write a book of poems." + +"Good for you, Poll! How I envy the boys, only you'd make them all +into doctors. Molly?" + +"I would travel, all over the whole world, and down into +Australia," returned Molly. "I'd go to Russia and Spain and China +and the Nile, and stay everywhere just as long as I wanted to." + +"Who wouldn't like to do that?" said Jean. "Katharine, what will +you do?" + +"I'd have a lovely house somewhere in Europe, Venice, perhaps, or +else Paris, and it should be full of magnificent pictures. And +then I'd have my friends come and stay with me for a year at a +time; and I'd have young artists come and live there, and give +them lessons,--not teach them, you know, but pay for them, to give +them a start, when they couldn't afford it. And when they had +learned to paint and were ready to go home, I'd pay their expenses +for a year, till they were able to support themselves. And then +I'd help poor students through college, and do ever so many things +like that." + +"Katharine, you are modest in your plans!" said Molly, laughing. +"How much of an income do you expect to have?" + +"I didn't know we were limited," Katharine answered. "I thought we +could have whatever we wished." + +"That was the idea," said Alan. "Go on, Jessie; what would you do +if you had all the money in the world?" + +"Just what I intend to do now," she replied coolly, "be a doctor." + +"What!" And Molly stared at her cousin with wide-open eyes. + +"Yes, I think that's what I mean to do," answered Jessie. "I +believe I should rather like it, and if I can tease mamma into +letting me try, I'm coming East again, in a few years, to study." + +"Well, you must be in want of something to do," said Molly, "if +you have any idea of patching up broken bones and getting yourself +exposed to small-pox and all sorts of fevers. But go on, Alan; +it's your turn." + +"Let's see," said Alan reflectively; "first of all, I'd get over +my rheumatism, and then, for a few years, I'd be the very best +base-ball player in the world. Then, after I was too old for that, +I'd travel round a little while, and then I'd settle down and be-- +" + +Polly listened breathlessly for the decision. + +"Be what?" she asked eagerly. + +"An undertaker." + +"Oh, Alan, how mean of you!" protested Jessie. "Here we've all +been and told our wishes as truly as we could, and now you are +just making fun of us. That isn't fair." + +"Isn't it?" And Alan laughed teasingly. "How do you know I haven't +told truly? But, to be honest, I think I'd go into partnership +with either Polly or you. I'd like to be a first-class doctor, or +else a great author." + +"Poems?" inquired Polly sympathetically. + +"Poems! No; nor novels either, nor any such trash as that," +returned the boy scornfully. "I'd write great, long books with +real solid work in them, history, or else some kind of science, +books that wouldn't be forgotten just as soon as they were read, +but ones that would help the world along by making people know +more and more, the more they studied them." + +"I wonder if we shall any of us ever get what we want," said Jean +thoughtfully." Jessie stands the best chance." + +"You wouldn't say so, if you knew mamma as well as Kit and I do," +returned Jessie, laughing. "I shan't have an easy time, when I try +to persuade her to let me carry out my plan. She wouldn't be any +more horrified if I wanted to be a farmer and plant my own +potatoes." + +"What will Florence be, I wonder," said Polly. "It would have to +be something very pretty and dainty, or it would never suit her." + +"Florence? Her future is all cut out," said Jean. "Didn't Mrs. +Hapgood tell it, last Hallowe'en, a devoted husband and a +beautiful home? She'll have everything she can possibly want, and +she'll keep it all in apple pie order, and she and her husband +will do nothing but bill and coo all day long." + +"I don't believe it," said Molly, laughing at the sentimental +picture which Jean had called up. "I think Florence has more to +her than all that." + +"What more can she want?" asked Katharine. "If she is a perfect +wife in a happy home, there isn't anything much better for any +woman." + +"But it's getting dark, and I must go," said Polly, as she rose. +"Come, Jean; mamma will think I am lost. Good night, girls." + +In spite of their assurances that they were not at all timid, Alan +insisted on going with the girls; so they stopped to speak to Mrs. +Adams, then walked on together as far as Jean's gate, where they +lingered, talking, for a minute or two. + +"Come in now, Alan," said Polly, as they reached her house again; +"it's early, really, and Jerusalem's out there on the piazza, all +alone. You know she always likes to see you." + +Alan hesitated for a moment, but the last fading light of the warm +June day was too tempting, and he went in. Mrs. Adams rose from +her piazza chair to meet them, and stepped forward into the faint +light which shone out through the closely drawn shade of the +parlor window. + +"Yes, it is pleasant out here," she answered Polly; "but if you +children are going to sit outside, you must have some wraps, for +it is quite cool. Polly dear, just run in to get a shawl to put +on, and bring the afghan to tuck around Alan. It's on the parlor +sofa." + +Polly vanished through the open door. When she came back, she was +laughing. + +"Why didn't you tell me they were in there, Jerusalem?" she asked, +as she tossed the afghan to Alan, and then settled herself on a +sweet-grass mat at her mother's feet. "Aunt Jane is reading aloud +a report of something or other, and Mr. Baxter looks so bored. He +yawned like a chasm when I went in." + +"Perhaps you disturbed him in the middle of a nap," suggested +Alan. + +"Maybe I did. I don't blame him for getting sleepy," responded +Polly pityingly. "It all seemed to be about convict labor and +penal servitude and such things. I shouldn't wonder if something +was the matter in Russia." + +Then they were silent, watching the lazy shadows from the full +moon creep over the lawn, till there came a footstep on the walk +and a voice called,-- + +"So you are all making the most of the moonlight, are you?" + +"Oh, Papa Adams!" exclaimed Polly joyfully. "Home so early?" + +"Yes," answered the doctor, as he dropped into the chair next +Alan; "and I'm going to play all the rest of the evening. How +comes on our future doctor?" + +"Doctor!" echoed Polly. "He said to-night that he'd rather be an +undertaker than anything else." + +"Why, how's that?" said the doctor, laughing. "It isn't a week +since Polly told me you were going to follow in my footsteps." + +"Oh, Polly has doctor on the brain, just now," answered the boy. +"She's started up Jessie on the subject, and they do nothing but +talk of pills and skeletons. To-night we were discussing what we'd +like best to do, and the girls had such wild plans that I thought +I'd bring them down to earth again." + +"If you can't make better puns than that, don't try to make any, +Alan," said Polly severely. "But our plans weren't wild a bit; we +only said just what we would do, if we had all the money in the +world." + +"And what was the decision," asked the doctor; "cooking and +sewing, or society belles?" + +"Neither," Polly was beginning earnestly, when Alan broke in,-- + +"I'll tell you, Dr. Adams, and you can see for yourself if they +weren't a little extra. Jean was going to know everything; Molly +was going to travel everywhere; Polly was going to found an orphan +asylum in her house, and write poetry, besides; and Katharine +wanted to support poor but honest young men by the dozen. I think +that's all but Jessie. She's going to study medicine." + +"Such aspiring young people!" said the doctor. "You'll need all +the treasures of the earth at your disposal, if you have such +magnificent plans. If you are going to undertake so much, then +good-by to bread-making and Bridget. And that reminds me to tell +you, children, Bridget is going home, the last of next week." + +"Next week?" said Mrs. Adams. "What is that for? Her year isn't +over." + +"No, but she has gained faster than we thought she could, and she +is now almost as well as ever. If she hadn't been taken in time, +it would have been much harder to cure her; but now we think that, +if she is careful, she can go home to her family again. We told +her so to-night, and she was half wild for a moment; but then she +began to cry, because she must leave her 'dear young ladies,' as +she called you." + +"Oh, dear, what shall we ever do without her?" sighed Polly. "I +was really getting quite fond of her. Now I'll have to devote +myself to Dicky and the other babies." + +"Bridget has improved in your hands," said the doctor. "You girls, +without knowing it, have been doing the best kind of mission work, +and the Bridget who goes home will be a much more attractive +Bridget than the one who came here, for she has learned that there +is something a little beyond her old life of drudgery that she can +hope for and, in the end, gain." + +"Hark! What's that?" exclaimed Mrs. Adams abruptly. + +There was a sudden commotion in the parlor, the sound of excited +voices, mingled with inarticulate cries; then Aunt Jane called, in +a tone of agony,-- + +"Isabel! Polly! John! Quick, quick!" + +Springing up, the doctor and his wife, followed by Polly and Alan, +ran to the parlor door where they looked in upon a strange scene, +for a full understanding of which it is necessary to go back a +little, to see what had been passing inside the room, while the +others had been talking on the piazza. + +For the past two or three months, it had been Mr. Baxter's regular +habit to spend every Wednesday evening with the woman of his +choice, when he either talked of his children and their +peculiarities, or his servants and their vices, or, on the other +hand, Miss Roberts attempted to form his mind, as she called it, +by improving and instructive conversation. Their interviews, it +must be confessed, were never of the nature of a duet. Either Mr. +Baxter prattled about trifles, and Aunt Jane was politely +indifferent; or else Miss Roberts conversed learnedly, and Mr. +Baxter dozed off into little "cat-naps," waked again with an +apologetic start, and immediately assumed a look of owlish wisdom, +as if to convey the idea that he listened to the best advantage +with his eyes shut. Such a beginning, when they spent but one +evening a week together, did not hold out very brilliant prospects +of enlivening domestic intercourse; but the parties most nearly +concerned appeared to be satisfied, so no one else needed to +complain. + +On this particular Wednesday evening, Mr. Baxter was unusually +drowsy. His youngest child, he fretfully explained, had been ill +all the night before, and his own rest had been badly broken. But +in spite of this warning. Miss Roberts had taken up from the table +a pamphlet on prison reform, and announced her intention of +reading it aloud. In vain Mr. Baxter looked about for some way of +escape. Seeing none, he seated himself in the darkest corner of +the room, with a lingering hope that his lapses into dreamland +might pass unnoticed. He was not disappointed. In a few moments, +Aunt Jane had become so absorbed in her subject that she read on +and on, quite unconscious of the fact that her guest, from yawning +behind his hand, and nodding now forward, now backward, and now +sideways, had passed on into a quiet slumber, unbroken by dreams +of restless children and hardened criminals. + +But Polly's sudden entrance had roused him, and he propped himself +up anew, with a manful resolve to hold his eyes open, or die. +Unfortunately it was by no means so easy for Mr. Baxter to hold +his mouth shut, and yawn followed yawn, wider and still more wide, +until his hand could no longer cover the opening. And yet Miss +Roberts read on endlessly, remorselessly. Suddenly she was +interrupted by Mr. Baxter who sprang up wildly and, with his body +bent forward, his eyes distended and his mouth wide open, began +plunging distractedly about the room, with both hands to his face, +as if in mortal anguish. + +"Oh, Solomon! What is it?" And Miss Roberts sprang up, in her +turn. + +But Mr. Solomon Baxter only paused to clasp his face more closely +and groan, and then resumed his former antics. Miss Roberts was +seriously alarmed. Had the man suddenly gone mad? Was he dying? + +"Solomon! Solomon!" she implored him. "Tell me, only speak to me +and tell me what is the matter!" + +"'Y 'ou'," replied Mr. Baxter vehemently, but not very +intelligibly. + +"What?" Miss Roberts hurried to his side and, bending, gazed up +into his face which was still turned floorward. + +"'Y 'ou'; I 'aw' 'uh' 'y 'ou'," answered Mr. Baxter again, this +time pointing down his throat. + +Miss Roberts saw that there was some trouble with his mouth. It +was a relief to find that her lover was of sound mind. From his +broken speech, she was beginning to fear some new, strange form of +paralysis, but his wild lunges about the room relieved those +apprehensions. It was only his mouth, then. She smiled +sympathetically. + +"I understand," she said; "it is the toothache. It is very +painful, while it lasts, but I have something that will stop it. +Just shut your mouth and make yourself as comfortable as you can, +and I will get it." + +But Mr. Baxter shook his head sadly. + +"I 'aw' 'uh' 'ih," he answered. + +Then Aunt Jane's courage began to fail. + +"Can't shut it! Oh, Solomon, Solomon! What is it?" + +"I 'o '_oo_'," he replied testily. Then, clasping his jaw in +both hands, he began to walk the floor again, groaning dismally. +Miss Roberts's tears were flowing. She felt sure that Mr. Baxter's +hours were' numbered, and that she would soon be forced to look on +at his funeral. Could she be a mother to his little ones, thus +doubly bereaved? These thoughts passed in rapid succession through +her brain; then, raising her voice to the utmost, she called for +aid. That done, for the first and only time in the course of her +life, Aunt Jane Roberts, the strong-minded, the firm, sank down on +the sofa and quietly fainted away. This was the state of affairs +which met the doctor's gaze, as he entered the room. + +To his practised eye there was no ground for doubt. He recognized +the disease and the remedy. It only needed one pull with his +strong hands, one roar of anguish from Mr. Baxter, and the +dislocated jaw was slipped back into place once more. Then the +doctor turned to help his wife who was trying to restore Aunt Jane +to consciousness. At length she gasped, opened one eye, gasped +again, opened both and faintly whispered,-- + +"Is he dead? Tell me gently. Was it lock-jaw?" + +Then the doctor's professional dignity gave way. Dropping into the +nearest chair, he laughed, and laughed, and laughed again, while +Mr. Baxter grew more and more shamefaced, and Miss Roberts more +and more exasperated at his unseemly merriment. When he could +speak again, he answered,-- + +"Lockjaw; no. This was all your fault, Jane. You read till the +poor man was so sleepy that he fairly yawned his jaw out of +joint." + +And this time the doctor's shout was echoed by his wife and the +two children. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + +KATHARINE'S CALL. + + +The next afternoon Katharine and Florence sat on the side piazza +of the Hapgood house, Florence in the hammock, Katharine curled up +among the cushions of a bamboo lounge, idly stroking the back of +Scott, Molly's plump tiger kitten. + +"Well, Scotty," she was saying caressingly, as she held up the +little creature and gazed straight into its yellow eyes, "are you +feeling happy in your mind to-day? Well, so am I." + +"What a queer name I" said Florence. "Where did Molly ever get +it?" + +Katharine laughed. + +"I should think you might know," she answered. "Alan was +responsible for it, of course. Don't you know how he is always +saying '_Great Scott'_?" + +"That is it, is it?" said Florence. Then she returned to the +subject of which they had just been speaking. "When do you think +you will go, Katharine?" + +"In about two weeks, I think," Katharine replied, as she rolled +the cat over on its back and tickled it under its furry chin. +"Papa wrote, some time ago, that he wanted us to be at home before +July, for then he is going to start on a trip to Alaska, and we +are both to go with. him. He hasn't mentioned it for a month, now, +but I suppose of course he means to go. I hope so, I am sure, for +I love to travel, and Jessie has never taken a real long journey, +except to come here." + +"To Alaska? How I envy you!" said Florence longingly. + +"I wish you could go with us," answered Katharine. "It will be a +lovely journey, I know, for it is so different from anything else +we have seen. I'll tell you, Florence, you must come out to see +us, some day, and then we'll go again. If it were not for this +Alaska plan, I should hate to go home, for I have had such a +pleasant year, here in New England. Sometimes I feel as if I had +never known what it was to really live, till I came here; and +Jessie dreads going worse than I do." + +"You'll probably forget us, before you've been away a month," said +Florenge lightly. + +Katharine moved among her cushions until she was facing her +friend. + +"Do you think I am so fickle as that, Florence?" she asked, and +her tone was a little hurt. "If that is all my friendship amounts +to, it isn't worth the having." + +"I didn't mean that," said Florence; "but it wouldn't be strange +if you did forget us, Kit, when you are back again among your +other friends." + +"What an absurd idea, Florence! Do you think I shall ever forget +Bridget and Job and the cooking club, and all the rest of our good +times? I shan't be nearly as likely to, just because we don't have +anything like it in Omaha. And if I do come out next winter, I +know that, right in the middle of all the parties and things, I +shall have little homesick twinges for our frolics in the attic, +and the cosy talks around Mrs. Adams's open fire." + +"It must be so exciting to come out," sighed Florence. "We can't +do it in this little place, for we're never in, very much. I +should be sorry to leave the girls, Kit, but I almost wish I lived +in a city, the way you do." + +"You wouldn't, if you had tried it," said Katharine decidedly. "I +used to long for the time when I could be in society, as mamma is. +Why, only last year I felt as if I couldn't wait; but since I have +been here, I don't care half so much about it. It will probably be +fun for just a little while, and then I shall get tired of it and +wish I could stop, and be cross and pale and headache-y, the way +mamma used to be. But, at least, I've had this one year, and I can +think about it over and over again, and remember just what we have +all done and said. Perhaps sometime we can all be together at our +house." + +"I do wish you didn't have to go away," said Florence a little +forlornly. "We feel as if you belonged to us, Katharine, and we +four girls don't seem half so many as we did before you and Jessie +came." + +"What an idea! And, besides, you have Alan, and he is equal to all +the rest of us put together. Dear fellow, how I shall miss him! I +wish I had a brother. But, Florence, it isn't as if we weren't +likely to drop in on you again, before long. It takes such a +little while to go back and forth, now; and I mean to go to Europe +in a year or two, and then I shall stop here on the way. It isn't +as bad as it would be if papa couldn't afford to let us travel." + +But Florence shook her head. + +"No," said she, "I know how it will be. You think now that you'll +come, but you'll go out there and get so interested in society +that you will forget all about New England, and all about us. Or, +if you do remember us, it will be when you are dancing all night, +and you'll stop a minute to pity us because we go to bed and to +sleep like civilized beings." And Florence laughed, in spite of +herself, at the idea. + +"Now, Florence, that isn't fair to me. I really don't mean to be +just a silly girl who thinks of nothing but her clothes. I shall +have to go into society, but I believe I can be good for a little +something besides that. If I find I can't do both, why, then I'll +give up the society part of it; but I won't be a do-nothing all my +days. I know there are always more chances for a woman to do good +than there are women to do it, and I mean to keep my eyes open to +look for my own especial chance. I don't believe that all the +helpful ideas auntie and Mrs. Adams have given me this year were +intended to be thrown away, and I think the time will come when I +can use them. If not, why were they given me? Wait a few years, +Florence, and see if I am just a butterfly. It is only fair to +give me the chance to win my spurs." Katharine spoke earnestly, +for her whole soul was in her words. The past year had been a +revelation to her, and her rapid development towards womanhood had +been in the line of all that was truest and noblest in her +character. She had come to New England an unformed girl whose +nature was one of endless possibilities, only waiting for the word +which should make them actual and turn her in one way or the +other. The word was spoken and, thanks to her aunt's influence and +to her association with the simple, natural girls about her, the +impulse given was in the right direction. It was as if Katharine +had suddenly been born into a new life. No drifting, idle maturity +could satisfy her now; her womanhood must be one of purpose and of +action. The time for it had come much nearer than she thought. + +But now her little outburst was followed by a hearty,-- + +"Good for you, Kit!" + +Both the girls started and looked up, to see Alan's head stretched +out from his window, with a look of perfect approval on his boyish +face. + +"I didn't mean to listen," he said penitently. "I was up here +reading and, honestly, I didn't hear a thing but Kit's last +speech. That was such a good one that I did just want to pat her +on the back. I'm going to stop up my ears now." + +"Come down, and stay with us, Alan," his cousin, said. + +"No, thanks; not even you can bribe me to leave this book. I want +to know what they found in the bottom of the cave." And Alan +returned to his reading. + +However, the unexpected interruption had put an end to all serious +talk, and the girls were chatting idly, now of this matter, now of +that, when a boy stepped up on the piazza. He had a telegram in +his hand. + +"Miss Katharine W. Shepard?" he asked, referring to his address +book. + +Katharine rose, dropping the kitten on the floor. + +"I am Miss Shepard," she said, taking the envelope from his hand +and signing the receipt. + +"I hope nothing is wrong," said Florence, eyeing the yellow paper +with a true feminine dislike of a telegram. + +"Wrong? Oh, no; it is probably from papa. He often telegraphs us," +said Katharine carelessly, as she tore open the end of the +envelope. + +She glanced at the paper in her hand, then looked a little +surprised. + +"It's from mamma," she said. "Papa has probably changed his plans. +Listen: 'Start for home first of next week. Have written.'" + +"The first of next week! That is so soon, Katharine; we can't let +you go." And Florence sat up in the hammock and stared at her +friend in bewilderment. + +"It is very sudden," said Katharine slowly. "It doesn't seem as if +I could go. But isn't it strange? Papa must have decided, all at +once, to go to Alaska sooner than he planned, for this is such a +little bit of a warning. Let me see, this is Thursday, and we +can't get a letter before Monday. We must start on Tuesday. How I +do hate to go!" And Katharine choked down a sudden lump that had +risen in her throat. "Come in," she added. "I must tell auntie." + +"No, I must go home," said Florence. "Oh, dear! Only four days +more, Katharine!" + +"Don't cry, dear," said Katharine protectingly. "Remember it isn't +for always, for I shall come East often." + +She stood and watched her guest until she was out of sight, then +ran into the house in search of her aunt, to whom she showed the +telegram. In spite of herself, Mrs. Hapgood was very uneasy over +the sudden summons to the girls. It certainly did seem strange +that the message should come from their mother; but for +Katharine's sake, her aunt hid her fears as best she could, and +only tried to make the girls' last days as pleasant as possible, +while she waited with a burning impatience for the letter which +should explain everything. However, the girls, accustomed as they +were to their father's rapid changes in his plans, were not at all +disturbed, but quietly made their arrangements for the journey, +sure that Mr. Shepard would either come for them, or else meet +them on the way. + +Friday and Saturday passed only too quickly for the young people, +who were dreading the approaching separation, and Sunday afternoon +found them all assembled at Mrs. Hapgood's for a farewell dinner +together. But it was rather a silent, subdued party that gathered +about the table; the conversation was fitful and broken by long +pauses, and the jokes were rather forced and feeble; while Molly's +red eyes and Florence's white cheeks showed that something was +wrong. If it was bad at the table, it was worse when they all sat +in the front porch after dinner, with nothing to do but watch the +darkness settle slowly down over the valley, and listen, to the +last sleepy twitterings of the birds. They talked little as they +sat there. Now and then Alan would attempt a jest, or Katharine +would try to start some fresh subject; but soon the voices would +die away, and another silence follow the momentary interruption. +So they lingered until long past the time for separation. At +length Polly started up. + +"Come, girls," said she; "I can't stand this any longer. We may as +well say good night now, for it won't be any easier by and by." + +"Oh, why did you girls ever come here and make us so fond of you, +and then have to go and leave us!" wailed Jean. "I wish you hadn't +come in the first place." + +"I don't," said Polly steadily; "I'm glad I've had just this one +year of knowing you. It's ever so much better than nothing, and +I'm thankful even for this. Besides," she added, valiantly +brushing away the tears, "I don't mean to cry yet, for we have all +day to-morrow, and Tuesday morning; and then, you'll come back +again some day. When you are gone is time enough to do the +crying." And smiling resolutely, she bade them good night, then +went away up the street, with the tears running down her cheeks. + +"Come, Alan," said Katharine, early the next morning; "come down +to the post-office with me. My letter from home must be here by +this time, and I'm in a hurry to get it, to see if papa is going +to come for us. It takes Jessie so long to get ready, that we +won't wait for her." + +They walked away together, laughing and talking as they went, +determined to forget the morrow, and only enjoy the bright, +beautiful morning and their pleasure in each other's society. At +the post-office, Alan ran inside, leaving his cousin to wait for +him at the door. + +"Here it is, sure enough, Kit," he said, as he joined her again. + +"What a little thin one, and from mamma, too!" said Katharine, as +she deliberately tore it open. "Papa must be away on one of his +business trips, I suppose." + +Alan made no reply, but left her to read her letter while he +walked along at her side, whistling softly to himself. All at once +he heard a low exclamation, like a half-smothered cry of pain. +Turning quickly, he saw his cousin's face was ashy white, and her +breath was coming in short, quick gasps. + +"Katharine! What is it?" he cried, in terror at the change in her +face. + +For answer, she held out the letter to him. "Oh, Alan, what does +it mean?" + +He thought she was going to fall, and threw his arm around her to +support her, but she rallied quickly. + +"Read it, Alan," she begged. "I can't seem to understand it." + +Alan read it. But before he was half through it, his face was as +white as hers had been. "Oh, Kit!" he began; then he paused, not +daring to offer one word of pity. + +The short letter was the bitter outcry of a selfish woman who +forgot her children's suffering in her own, for it bore its sad +message abruptly and with no word to soften the blow. Mr. Shepard +had proved to be a defaulter and, after he had for years been +using money from the bank of which he was president, he had saved +himself, on the eve of exposure, by hastily quitting the country, +leaving his wife and children to bear the burden of his guilt as +best they could. + +"Papa has taken money that didn't belong to him; is that it, +Alan?" said Katharine slowly, as if dazed by the sudden shock. "I +can't believe it. How can mamma say such a cruel thing?" she added +indignantly. + +Alan made no reply, beyond drawing the girl's limp hand through +his arm. Katharine felt the unspoken sympathy of his gesture and +pressed closer to him. + +"Do say you don't believe it, Alan," she urged. "You must know +that papa couldn't do such a thing." + +"Oh, Kit, I wish I knew what to say!" the boy burst out. "I am so +awfully sorry for you, dear." But Katharine stopped him with a +motion of her hand. + +"Don't pity me, Alan, or I shall begin to cry; and I mustn't do +that here. We must hurry home to tell auntie." And she quickened +her pace, almost to a run. + +Alan kept by her side, watching the white, set face, and +marvelling that she did not give way to her sorrow. His own eyes +were full of tears, and his throat was aching with a dull, dry +pain; but his cousin, after her first exclamations, was perfectly +quiet. So they went up the long, sunny street, deaf to the gay +bird-songs, blind to the sunlight that slanted down through the +arching elms and set the dewdrops to twinkling, only anxious to +reach the safe refuge of the old house, and the motherly woman +within it. + +They found her on the piazza watching for them, eager for the news +the letter must bring. + +Even then, Katharine's self-control did not leave her. Pausing +before her aunt, she said quietly, as she held out the letter,-- + +"Do you remember our talk last fall, auntie? My call has come, and +I must answer: 'ready.'" + +"Katharine!" + +Mrs. Hapgood snatched the note, read it, and turned impulsively to +the young girl before her. + +"You poor child!" she began; but Katharine interrupted her, as she +had done Alan. + +"Don't worry about me, auntie. But can you tell Jessie now, +please? I am afraid I can't." And she turned away and went into +the house. + +When Mrs. Hapgood came down-stairs, an hour later, it seemed as if +a shadow had always rested on the house, the sorrow it contained +had so soon become a part of their lives. Up-stairs, Jessie had +cried until she was tired, stopped to listen vaguely to her aunt's +comforting words, then cried again, but all without any real +understanding of the trouble which had come upon her. Down-stairs, +Alan and Molly were walking the room, arm in arm, with a settled +look of sadness which was strangely out of place on their young +faces. Alan had told his sister the news as gently as he could, +and she could only cling to him and cry, as she took in all the +meaning of the shame and disgrace, all the consequences of the +father's sin upon the coming life of his children. + +"But where is Katharine?" asked Mrs. Hapgood anxiously. + +"Isn't she up-stairs?" said Molly. + +"I haven't seen her," answered her mother. + +"Why, we supposed she was with you!" And Alan hurried away to look +for his cousin. + +At last he found her. Up in the familiar old garret that she had +loved so well, close by the great gray chimney which seemed to be +shielding her with its giant strength, there lay Katharine on the +shabby old sofa, sobbing as if her heart must break. To the young +lad, these unrestrained tears were much more alarming than her +former quiet, and he dared not speak, as he sat down on the floor +by her side, and put his brown hand against her cheek. + +"Oh, Alan!" + +"Yes, Kit; I know." + +"Let me have my cry out now," she said brokenly. "It must come +sometime; then I can be brave for mamma and Jessie." + +Alan stole away to tell his mother where Katharine was, and then +went back to her side. All the morning he remained there, +saying little, but keeping near her with a simple, boyish +devotion of which, in after years, she never lost the memory. + +[Illustration: "THERE LAY KATHARINE ON THE SHABBY OLD SOFA, +SOBBING AS IF HER HEART MUST BREAK."--Page 350.] + +When Katharine went down-stairs again, she appeared to have grown +years older during that one morning. It was not that she was less +beautiful than she had been; but she seemed to have gained a new, +gentle dignity which suddenly changed her from a child into a +woman. As she entered the room, with her hand on Alan's shoulder, +she met them with a perfect composure which gave no hint of her +trouble; but they all felt instinctively that it was as she had +said to her aunt, her call had come, and she had answered "ready." + +The day wore slowly away. They were to start on their journey, +late the next afternoon, accompanied by Mrs. Hapgood, who had made +up her mind to go to her sister for a few weeks, to help her +through the sad changes which must inevitably follow. Late in the +day, Mrs. Adams and Polly came in, for Molly had told them of the +letter. Mrs. Adams took both the girls into her motherly arms, and +her few whispered words were very tender, while Polly threw her +arms around Katharine, as she said,-- + +"Alan has told me what you said, Kit, about your call's coming, +and I think it was grand; but it isn't one bit more so than we +expected, only it makes us proud to be your friends." + +At length it was bedtime, and for the last time the girls went up +to their pleasant room in the old Hapgood house. The whole place +was in confusion, and trunks stood in the middle of the floor, +with piles of clothing, books, and pictures heaped about them, +just as they had been left in the morning. At sight of them, +Jessie threw herself down on the bed. + +"Oh, Kit!" she cried; "what are we going to do?" "Please don't cry +so, Jessie," said Katharine wearily. "We must try not to be +babyish about it." + +"Babyish!" And Jessie turned on her petulantly. "I do believe you +don't care, Katharine. Oh, poor papa!" Then, as she saw the pain +in her sister's face, she added, "Forgive me, Kit! I know you do +care; but how can you keep so quiet? It's all so dreadful, and we +shall be poor and alone, and nobody will care for us." + +"Hush, Jessie!" + +Her sister spoke almost sharply, for she felt her own courage fast +giving way. Then, sitting down on the side of the bed, with her +beautiful brown hair waving loose about her shoulders, she took +her sister's hand in hers. + +"Jessie dear," she said gently; "listen to me, please. You and I +mustn't give up so and cry about this; we must be brave and +cheerful for mamma's sake. Poor mamma is out there all alone, and +we must go to her and help her to bear it all. We are stronger +than she is, and we have each other, so we must help each other +and help her. We've had a great many good times already, and +nothing can take those away; but now comes the chance to show what +we are, and whether we have any courage. There will be a great +deal to do when we get home, so we have no right to give up and +make ourselves ill with crying. Now we must go to bed and try to +sleep, so we can be ready for to-morrow; and--Oh, Jessie, if we +only knew where papa was to-night! He was always so good and kind +that I know he has never done anything wicked." + +Katharine's head went down on the pillow beside Jessie's, and the +two daughters sobbed together over their father's guilt. + +They were all at the station to see them off the next night. The +sun was just setting as the train moved away, and the little group +of three on the rear platform looked back to see its golden light +fall upon the friends they were leaving: the girls, Alan, Dr. and +Mrs. Adams, and even patient old Job, who stood quietly in the +background, watching the scene about him with a half wondering air +of sympathy. + +Jessie turned to enter the car. + +"Wait just a minute more," said Katharine wistfully. + +A sudden opening between the buildings gave her one more glimpse +of the figures still standing there as they had left them, and +Katharine strained her eyes to catch the parting wave of Alan's +cap, while her lips quivered. Then she exclaimed excitedly,-- + +"See, Jessie! See!" + +They were just passing within sight of the hospital and, from a +well-known window, a hand was waving a farewell to them. It was +Bridget, who had begged to be moved to the window, that she might +be the one to say the final good by, before the train went rushing +away into the gathering twilight. + +"I feel as if I had just been to a funeral," sighed Molly, as she +walked home with Polly; for she and Alan were to stay with Mrs. +Adams during their mother's absence. + +"It was just like one," said Jean sorrowfully. But Polly objected. + +"No, girls," she said; "no funeral was ever like this, for a +funeral is all sad, and this isn't. I'm sorry for them, more so +than I can tell; but, after all, it has given Katharine a chance +to show how glorious she is. It just makes me glad to know such a +magnificent girl." + +And Alan added,-- + +"Yes, you may talk all day about your heroines; but I've just seen +one of them, and it's a sight I shan't forget soon, either." + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + +ONE LAST GLIMPSE. + + +Indian summer had come once more, and the same soft haze which, +only last year, the girls had seen over the blue Connecticut with +its meadows and mountains, now rested quite as lovingly upon the +dull waters of the Missouri, as they wound along between their low +bluffs and level prairies. There, there had been the restful quiet +of the old town, peacefully living on the reputation of its two +centuries of strong, honorable life, justly proud of the famous +names it had given to its state and country; here, there was the +ceaseless, unwearying bustle of a new civilization, the restless +activity of a city whose glory was yet to be and whose present +ambition was only to grow and to accumulate riches. All the +contrast between the two places, all the change from the +surroundings of a year ago to the life of to-day were keenly felt +by the young girl who was sitting on the piazza of a little house +in Omaha, one morning, idly enjoying the late autumn sunshine. + +"Come out here a minute, Jessie," she called suddenly, as she +heard some one coming down the stairs behind her. "We shan't have +many more days like this, and do let's take a few minutes to enjoy +this one." + +"But Aunt Jane would say it was sinful to waste the golden +moments," said Jessie, laughing, as, duster in hand, she came out +on the steps. + +"Not a bit of it," said the other. "I haven't sat down before this +since my breakfast, and I know that lunch will be all the better, +if I take a few minutes to rest and breathe this lovely air. +Where's mamma?" + +"She's lying down; she said her head ached. Oh, Kit, doesn't this +make you homesick for last year and all the girls?" + +"And Alan, too," added Katharine. "Yes, it does, Jessie, whenever +I stop to think of it. We did have a perfect year at auntie's, and +once in a while I wish we were back there. Do you remember the day +Job was loose, and they couldn't catch him?" + +"'I feel it in my bones,' as Miss Bean would say," said Jessie; +"that the time will come when we shall all be together again. At +least, we made the very most of our time." + +"True," said Katharine thoughtfully; "and I don't know what we +should have done this summer, Jessie, if we hadn't had those +lessons in cooking. I had no idea then that we shouldn't always +have servants, and if we'd stayed here, we never should have known +anything about housekeeping. And the worst of it is, I like it. I +always knew I had plebeian tastes and, now I am used to it, I +fairly revel in washing dishes." + +"I'm not half so homesick for the old house as I thought I should +be," said Jessie, while she meditatively folded a series of tucks +in her gingham apron. "It was dreadful at first, having to leave +the old place and the servants and the furniture; but, after all, +we haven't had such a bad time. I don't know as I want to do +housework for a living, I prefer medicine; but I don't mind it a +bit, for a while. If I'm to keep old maid's hall, I want to know +how to do it." + +"Yes; but we can't go on like this much longer, Jessie," her +sister replied. "I was talking about it to mamma, only a few days +ago. We must try to get a young girl to help about the house, for +it is settled that you are to go back into school after +Christmas." + +"' Sufficient unto the day,'" said Jessie, laughing. "You know I'd +much rather stay at home and help you than go back to school. Why +must I go, any more than you?" + +"I was supposed to be finished last year, ready to come out," +answered Katharine; "and so I ought to be finished enough to stay +in. But when we get settled down for the winter, I mean to go on +and do a little studying by myself, history or something. I don't +know yet just what it will be. You've had a hard summer and fall, +Jessie," she added, surveying her sister with a motherly air; "but +you've gone through it splendidly, and I'm proud of you." + +"It's no harder for me than for you," responded Jessie sturdily; +"and it hasn't made half the difference in my plans. But there are +times, Kit, when I do feel as if I must see papa again." + +"I don't dare let myself think about him much," said Katharine +slowly. "It is one of the things we can't undo, and must take as +they come." She was silent for a few moments, then added, with an +evident effort to turn the conversation, "Here comes the postman. +I don't suppose he has anything for us, though." + +"Maybe he has," answered Jessie hopefully. "It is ever and ever so +long since we heard from any of the girls." + +The sisters sat watching the man as he came slowly down the +street, stopping here and there to leave a part of his precious +burden. + +"Don't you ever wish you could know just what is in all those +letters?" asked Jessie, as she rested her chin in her hands. + +"No, I don't know as I do," replied Katharine. "If it were all +funny or interesting, it would be well enough; but think of all +the letters that have sad or ugly things to tell. I do wish he +would bring us one, though." + +"Perhaps he will. Yes, he's going to!" And Jessie sprang down the +steps to meet the man, who paused long enough to hand her a thick +envelope, and then went on out of sight, quite disregarded by the +girls who were all-absorbed in their mail. + +"It's yours," said Jessie, as she deliberately mounted the steps +once more; "but I can't make out whose writing it is. Part of it +looks like Alan's, and part like Polly's. It's from some of them, +anyway. Do see if you can make it out." And she tossed the +envelope into her sister's lap. + +No true woman ever opens a letter to find out from whom it comes. +Katharine carefully and minutely studied the one in her hand, +without attempting to resort to the most natural method of +obtaining an answer to the question. At length she raised her head +with a laugh. + +"It's from them all," she said. "Polly wrote my name, Molly the +city, and Alan the state. This is one of that boy's pranks." + +"Do hurry to open it," said Jessie impatiently. + +Katharine recklessly tore it open and' drew out four separate +sheets. + +"I told you so," she said triumphantly. "And one from Mrs. Adams, +too! Which shall I take first? None of them are very long." + +"Begin with Molly," said Jessie, settling herself comfortably to +listen while her sister read,- + +"DEAR KATHARINE AND JESSIE,--I haven't any idea who owes the other +a letter, but I am getting so homesick for you that I shall write +to you anyway. It isn't that I have much to say, for it does seem +as if nothing had happened since you left here. I wrote you, +didn't I, that the Langs have all gone abroad for a year? Only +half of us left here, now! I miss Florence, and I rather envy her; +but, after all, my first journey is going to be to Omaha. Jean and +Polly and I are here, just the same as ever, only Jean is getting +dignified and doesn't walk fences, any longer. But you have no +idea how proud we are of Polly. She had the dearest little poem in +the school paper last month; and this month she is to be editor, +the first time a girl has ever done it. She and Alan are writing, +too. They came in and found out what I was doing, so they said +they were each going to put in a note. I don't think it is quite +fair, for I know they will tell you all the news. + +"You ought to have seen the new clothes Florence had, before she +went away. I went there once to see them, and it was like a whole +dry-goods store. She sent for Bridget, one day, and gave her ever +so many of her old things, to be made over for the children; and +Bridget went off hugging the great bundle and crying because she +was 'afraid Miss Florence would get drownded on the way.' + +"Polly has just showed me what she has been writing about Aunt +Jane. I do wish you could be here for the wedding. I think Job +almost ought to march in the bridal party, for he helped Mr. +Baxter to get ready for a second marriage. + +"Mrs. Adams has just come in, and wants my pen to write a little +note while she waits for mamma to get ready to go out with her, so +I'm not going to write another single word till I hear from you. +Answer this soon, like dear girls. Mamma would send love, if she +knew I was writing. + +"Your loving cousin, + +"MOLLY HAPGOOD." + +"That's short enough, I should think," said Jessie ungratefully. +"My last letter to her was two whole sheets long." + +"Nevermind," answered Katharine; "let's see what Mrs. Adams says. +Isn't it good of her to write?" + +"My DEAR GIRLS,--This is only a little note to tuck inside Molly's +letter; but I did just want to say how glad I am to hear of the +way my two girls are doing the work that has come to them. I am +proud of them and happy in them, for they both seem almost like my +own daughters. + +"And this brings me to my new plan. It occurred to me, the other +day, that we shall be a very lonely, forlorn pair of old people, +when Polly goes off to college. Why wouldn't it be a good idea for +Jessie to plan to come back to us then, and take Polly's place for +the four years, bring a little young life into the home, and study +medicine with the doctor while she does it. It is too soon, of +course, to decide; but I want you both to be thinking about it, +for it seems to me an excellent idea. + +"And now I must run away and make a call with Aunt Ruth. + +"With a great deal of love from + +"'AUNT ISABEL.'" + +"Oh-h-h!" And Jessie gave a sigh of rapture. + +"Yes, it is lovely of her, and just like her," said Katharine; +"and I don't see why you can't go. But now let's take Alan's +letter. It will be sure to be a good one, even if it is short. +Listen I" + +"DEAR KIT,--Is it six months or six years since you went home? We +are all in the dumps without you, and don't have anybody to pull +us out. How comes on your housekeeping? Molly made some biscuits, +last night, that were so hard we had to get hammers to crack them +open, before we could put on any butter. I told her she'd better +send one to you girls, for a curiosity, but she said they were so +heavy that she couldn't afford to pay postage on them. + +"Did you know Poll and I are taking Latin lessons together of +Professor Smythe? We go to him twice a week, and have been at it a +month, now. We're racing each other as hard as we can. First she +asks for a longer lesson, just to tease me, then I return the +compliment, and neither of us will give in, so it keeps us +studying all the time, mostly. We don't care much, for nothing +seems to be happening, this year. We must have used up all the +fun, last winter. You and Jessie are gone, Florence is gone, +Bridget is gone, Aunt Jane is going, and the rest of us will +follow her pretty soon, unless Molly gives up trying to cook. + +"By the way, Miss Bean--Polly says I shan't tell, but I'm going +to--asked Mrs. Adams, the other day, how she made that oyster +broth she had for first course, the day Polly gave her dinner. She +thought the lumps were oysters. + +"That's all for this time. + +"ALAN O. HAPGOOD." + +"P.S. I entirely forgot to send my love to Jessie." + +"Saucy boy!" exclaimed Jessie, laughing. + +"Isn't he an imp?" said Katharine, as she folded the letter. "He +made up all that about Miss Bean, I know, for she didn't take any +soup that day. I remember her refusing it. Do you remember--" + +"Do you remember?" echoed Jessie mockingly. "I wonder how many +times we have said that, Kit. As if we didn't both of us remember +every single thing that happened through all the year we were +East! What does Polly say?" + +"Hers is longer," said Katharine, as she opened it. "She is the +best of them all to write, and her letters sound just like her +funny, topsy-turvy self." + +"DEAR GIRLS,--First of all, I must tell you the one grand item of +news. Aunt Jane is going to be married on Thanksgiving Day. The +Baxter children have all been exposed to chicken-pox, and Aunt +Jane has made up her mind to be married at once, so she can take +care of them when they come down with it. Isn't it good of her, +really? I don't think she minds much, though, for she acts fond of +them. _Uncle Sol_, as I call him behind his back, brought the +youngest here, one day early in the fall; and when I went into the +room, there,--fancy it!--there sat Aunt Jane with the baby in her +lap, playing pat-a-cake with it, just as nice as could be. I was +so surprised that I almost dropped down on the floor. But she +insists on being married in black silk, she says it will be so +serviceable. I think it will look just as if she were in mourning +for the first Mrs. Baxter. Alan says that if the children all have +chicken-pox, they won't need to buy a turkey for Thanksgiving. + +"Papa wants me to tell you that Bridget keeps just as well and +strong as can be. He drove up there to see her, two or three weeks +ago, and she asked all about yon both. I go to the hospital once +in a while, to see the small boys, and I make Alan go with me +whenever I can. He has cut me all out with Dicky, and the child +won't have anything to say to me, when he can get Alan. You would +hardly know Alan, he has grown so tall; and we think he is getting +quite good-looking, too. Of course, he is always a duck. + +"Molly and I are growing good. We haven't had a squabble since +Florence went away. I suppose, now she can't get anybody else, she +has to put up with me. She has just three ideas in her head at +present: cooking, some singing lessons she is going to begin next +month, and her new gown. I suppose she would say I'm envious, for +my new gown this winter is one of mamma's made over. + +"Miss Bean came to spend the day, last week. She appeared early, +for she said she wanted time to look over all Aunt Jane's new +things, 'seeing's how' she made the match. She did look them over, +too, and asked what everything cost, and why she didn't have +something else, and then she gave her any quantity of advice about +how to bring up the children. + +"I almost forgot to tell you anything about Job. He ran away, the +other day, going up a hill. A bee lighted on the side of his neck +and stung him, and it astonished him so that he just started off +and ran. for almost a quarter of a mile. Then, all of a sudden, he +sat down with all four legs at once, and that stopped him. Poor +fellow, he is getting so old! + +"What a long letter I am writing! The others are through, and +waiting for me to carry this to the mail. Alan is making such a +noise that I can't hear myself write. He is singing: + + "'Do the work that's nearest, + Though it's dull at whiles, + Helping, when we meet them, + Lame dogs over stiles.' + +"I don't know whether he means us with Job, or Aunt Jane with the +Baxter babies, or you with the housekeeping. Perhaps it is for all +three. Anyway, it is good advice. + +"Now I must stop. Oh, you dear girls, how I do want to see you! +Papa and Jerusalem always send love. I could go on for ever so +much longer, but at last I must say good by. + +"Your friend, + +"POLLY ADAMS." + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Half a Dozen Girls, by Anna Chapin Ray + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HALF A DOZEN GIRLS *** + +This file should be named 6360.txt or 6360.zip + +Produced by Ralph Zimmerman, Steve Schulze, Charles Franks +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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