There must have been other flag-raisings in history,—even the persons most interested in this particular one would grudgingly3 have allowed that much,—but it would have seemed to them improbable that any such flag-raising, as theirs could twice glorify5 the same century. Of some pageants6 it is tacitly admitted that there can be no duplicates, and the flag-raising at Riverboro Centre was one of these; so that it is small wonder if Rebecca chose it as one of the important dates in her personal almanac. Mrs. Baxter, the new minister's wife, was the being, under Providence7, who had conceived the first idea of the flag. Mrs. Baxter communicated her patriotic8 idea of a new flag to the Dorcas Society, proposing that the women should cut and make it themselves.
"It may not be quite as good as those manufactured in the large cities," she said, "but we shall be proud to see our home-made flag flying in the breeze, and it will mean all the more to the young voters growing up, to remember that their mothers made it with their own hands."
"How would it do to let some of the girls help?" modestly asked Miss Dearborn, the Riverboro teacher. "We might chose the best sewers9 and let them put in at least a few stitches, so that they can feel they have a share in it."
"Just the thing!" exclaimed Mrs. Baxter. "We can cut the stripes and sew them together, and after we have basted10 on the white stars the girls can apply them to the blue ground. We must have it ready for the campaign rally, and we could n't christen it at a better time than in this presidential year."
In this way the great enterprise was started, and day by day the preparations went forward in the two villages.
The boys, as future voters and soldiers, demanded an active share in the proceedings12, and were organized by Squire13 Bean into a fife and drum corps14, so that by day and night martial15 but most inharmonious music woke the echoes, and deafened16 mothers felt their patriotism17 oozing18 out at the soles of their shoes. Dick Carter was made captain, for his grandfather had a gold medal given him by Queen Victoria for rescuing three hundred and twenty-six passengers from a sinking British vessel19. Riverboro thought it high time to pay some graceful20 tribute to Great Britain in return for her handsome, conduct to Captain Nahum Carter, and human imagination could contrive21 nothing more impressive than a vicarious share in the flag-raising.
Miss Dearborn was to be Columbia and the older girls of the two schools were to be the States. Such trade in muslins and red, white, and blue ribbons had never been known since "Watson kep' store," and the number of brief white petticoats hanging out to bleach22 would leave caused the passing stranger to imagine Riverboro a continual dancing-school.
Juvenile23 virtue24, both male and female, reached an almost impossible height, for parents had only to lift a finger and say, "You shan't go to the flag-raising!" and the refractory25 spirit at once armed itself for new struggles toward the perfect life. Mr. Jeremiah Cobb had consented to impersonate Uncle Sam, and was to drive Columbia and the States to the "raising" on the top of his own stage. Meantime the boys were drilling, the ladies were cutting and basting26 and stitching, and the girls were sewing on stars; for the starry27 part of the spangled banner was to remain with each of them in turn until she had performed her share of the work.
It was felt by one and all a fine and splendid service indeed to help in the making of the flag, and if Rebecca was proud to be of the chosen ones, so was her Aunt Jane Sawyer, who had taught her all her delicate stitches.
On a long-looked-for afternoon in August the minister's wife drove up to the brick-house door, and handed out the great piece of bunting to Rebecca, who received it in her arms with as much solemnity as if it had been a child awaiting baptismal rites29.
"I'm so glad!" she sighed happily. "I thought it would never come my turn!"
"You should have had it a week ago, but Huldah Meserve upset the ink bottle over her star, and we had to baste11 on another one. You are the last, though, and then we shall sew the stars and stripes together, and Seth Strout will get the top ready for hanging. Just think, it won't be many days before you children will be pulling the rope with all your strength, the band will be playing, the men will be cheering, and the new flag will go higher and higher, till the red, white, and blue shows against the sky!"
"Look at all the others and make the most beautiful stitches you can, that's all. It is your star, you know, and you can even imagine it is your state, and try and have it the best of all. If everybody else is trying to do the same thing with her state, that will make a great country, won't it?"
Rebecca's eyes spoke30 glad confirmation31 of the idea. "My star, my state!" she repeated joyously32. "Oh, Mrs. Baxter, I'll make such fine stitches you'll, think the white grew out of the blue!"
The new minister's wife looked pleased to see her spark kindle33 a flame in the young heart. "You can sew so much of yourself into your star," she went on in the glad voice that made her so winsome34, "that when you are an old lady you can put on your specs and find it among all the others. Good-by! Come up to the parsonage Saturday afternoon; Mr. Baxter wants to see you."
"Judson, help that dear little genius of a Rebecca all you can!" she said that night. "I don't know what she may, or may not, come to, some day; I only wish she were ours! If you could have seen her clasp the flag tight in her arms and put her cheek against it, and watched the tears of feeling start in her eyes when I told her that her star was her state! I kept whispering to myself, "'Covet35 not thy neighbor's child!
Daily at four o'clock Rebecca scrubbed her hands almost to the bone, brushed her hair, and otherwise prepared herself in body, mind, and spirit for the consecrated36 labor37 of sewing on her star. All the time that her needle cautiously, conscientiously38 formed the tiny stitches she was making rhymes "in her head," her favorite achievement being this:—
"Your star, my star, all our stars together,
They make the dear old banner proud
To float in the bright fall weather."
There was much discussion as to which of the girls should impersonate the State of Maine, for that was felt to be the highest honor in the gift of the committee.
Alice Robinson was the prettiest child in the village, but she was very shy and by no means a general favorite.
Minnie Smellie possessed39 the handsomest dress and a pair of white slippers40 and open-work stockings that nearly carried the day, but she was not at all the person to select for the central figure on the platform.
Huldah Meserve was next voted upon, and the fact that if she were not chosen her father might withdraw his subscription41 to the brass42 band fund was a matter for grave consideration.
"I kind of hate to have such a giggler43 for the State of Maine; let Huldah be the Goddess of Liberty," proposed Mrs. Burbank, whose patriotism was more local than national.
"How would Rebecca Randall do for Maine, and let her speak some of her verses?" suggested the new minister's wife, who, could she have had her way, would have given all the prominent parts to Rebecca, from Uncle Sam down.
So, beauty, fashion, and wealth having been tried and found wanting, the committee discussed the claims of talent, and it transpired44 that to the awestricken Rebecca fell the chief plum in the pudding. It was a tribute to her gifts that there was no jealousy45 or envy among the other girls; they readily conceded her special fitness for the role.
Her life had not been pressed down full to the brim of pleasures, and she had a sort of distrust of joy in the bud. Not until she saw it in full radiance of bloom did she dare embrace it. She had never read any verse but Byron, Felicia Hemans, bits of "Paradise Lost," and the selections in the school readers, but she would have agreed heartily46 with the poet who said:—
"Not by appointment do we meet delight
But round some corner in the streets of life
They on a sudden clasp us with a smile."
For many nights before the raising, when she went to her bed, she said to herself after she had finished her prayers: "It can't be true that I'm chosen for the State of Maine! It just can't be true! Nobody could be good enough, but oh, I'll try to be as good as I can! To be going to Wareham Seminary next week and to be the State of Maine too! Oh! I must pray hard to God to keep me meek49 and humble50!"
The flag was to be raised on a Tuesday, and on the previous Sunday it became known to the children that Clara Belle51 Simpson was coming back from Acreville, coming to live with Mrs. Fogg and take care of the baby. Clara Belle was one of Miss Dearborn's original flock, and if she were left wholly out of the festivities she would be the only girl of suitable age to be thus slighted; it seemed clear to the juvenile mind, therefore, that neither she nor her descendants would ever recover from such a blow. But, under all the circumstances, would she be allowed to join in the procession? Even Rebecca, the optimistic, feared not, and the committee confirmed her fears by saying that Abner Simpson's daughter certainly could not take any prominent part in the ceremony, but that they hoped Mrs. Fogg would allow her to witness it.
When Abner Simpson, urged by the town authorities, took his wife and seven children away from Riverboro to Acreville, just over the border in the next county, Riverboro went to bed leaving its barn and shed doors unfastened, and drew long breaths of gratitude52 to Providence.
Of most winning disposition53 and genial54 manners, Mr. Simpson had not that instinctive55 comprehension of property rights which renders a man a valuable citizen.
Abner was a most unusual thief, and conducted his operations with a tact56 and neighborly consideration none too common in the profession. He would never steal a man's scythe57 in haying-time, nor his fur lap-robe in the coldest of the winter. The picking of a lock offered no attractions to him; "he wa'n't no burglar," he would have scornfully asserted. A strange horse and wagon59 hitched60 by the roadside was the most flagrant of his thefts; but it was the small things—the hatchet61 or axe62 on the chopping-block, the tin pans sunning at the side door, a stray garment bleaching63 on the grass, a hoe, rake, shovel64, or a bag of early potatoes—that tempted65 him most sorely; and these appealed to him not so much for their intrinsic value as because they were so excellently adapted to "swapping66." The swapping was really the enjoyable part of the procedure, the theft was only a sad but necessary preliminary; for if Abner himself had been a man of sufficient property to carry on his business operations independently, it is doubtful if he would have helped himself so freely to his neighbor's goods.
Riverboro regretted the loss of Mrs. Simpson, who was useful in scrubbing, cleaning, and washing, and was thought to exercise some influence over her predatory spouse67. There was a story of their early life together, when they had a farm; a story to the effect that Mrs. Simpson always rode on every load of hay that her husband took to Milltown, with the view of keeping him sober through the day. After he turned out of the country road and approached the metropolis68, it was said that he used to bury the docile69 lady in the load. He would then drive on to the scales, have the weight of hay entered in the buyer's book, take his horses to the stable for feed and water, and when a favorable opportunity offered he would assist the hot and panting Mrs. Simpson out of the side or back of the rack, and gallantly70 brush the straw from her person. For this reason it was always asserted that Abner Simpson sold his wife every time he went to Milltown, but the story was never fully58 substantiated71, and at all events it was the only suspected blot72 on meek Mrs. Simpson's personal reputation.
As for the Simpson children, they were missed chiefly as familiar figures by the roadside; but Rebecca honestly loved Clara Belle, notwithstanding her Aunt Miranda's opposition73 to the intimacy74. Rebecca's curious taste in friends was a source of continual anxiety to her aunt.
"Anything that's human flesh is good enough for her!" Miranda groaned75 to Jane. "She'll ride with the rag-sack-and-bottle peddler just as quick as she would with the minister; she always sets beside the barefooted young ones at Sabbath school; and she's forever riggin' and onriggin' that dirty Simpson baby! She reminds me of a puppy that'll always go to everybody that'll have him!"
It was thought very creditable to Mrs. Fogg that she sent for Clara Belle to live with her and go to school part of the year. "She'll be useful," said Mrs. Fogg, "and she'll be out of her father's way, and so keep honest; though she's so awful homely76 I've no fears for her. A girl with her red hair, freckles77, and cross-eyes can't fall into no kind of sin, I don't believe."
Mrs. Fogg requested that Clara Belle should be started on her journey from Acreville by train and come the rest of the way by stage, and she was disturbed to receive word on Sunday that Mr. Simpson had borrowed a horse from a new acquaintance, and would himself drive the girl from Acreville to Riverboro, a distance of thirty-five miles. That he would arrive in their vicinity on the very night before the flag-raising was thought by Riverboro to be a public misfortune, and several residents hastily determined79 to deny themselves a sight of the festivities and remain watchfully80 on their own premises81.
On Monday afternoon the children were rehearsing their songs at the meeting-house. As Rebecca came out on the broad wooden steps she watched Mrs. Peter Meserve's buggy out of sight, for in front, wrapped in a cotton sheet, lay the precious flag. After a few chattering82 good-byes and weather prophecies with the other girls, she started on her homeward walk, dropping in at the parsonage to read her verses to the minister.
He welcomed her gladly as she removed her white cotton gloves (hastily slipped on outside the door, for ceremony) and pushed back the funny hat with the yellow and black porcupine84 quills—the hat with which she made her first appearance in Riverboro society.
"You've heard the beginning, Mr. Baxter; now will you please tell me if you like the last verse?" she asked, taking out her paper. "I've only read it to Alice Robinson, and I think perhaps she can never be a poet, though she's a splendid writer. Last year when she was twelve she wrote a birthday poem to herself, and she made 'natal85' rhyme with 'Milton,' which, of course, it wouldn't. I remember every verse ended:—
'This is my day so natal
And I will follow Milton.'
Another one of hers was written just because she couldn't help it she said. This was it:—
'Let me to the hills away,
Give me pen and paper;
I'll write until the earth will sway
The minister could scarcely refrain from smiling, but he controlled himself that he might lose none of Rebecca's quaint78 observations. When she was perfectly87 at ease, unwatched and uncriticised, she was a marvelous companion.
"The name of the poem is going to be 'My Star,'" she continued, "and Mrs. Baxter gave me all the ideas, but somehow there's a kind of magicness when they get into poetry, don't you think so?" (Rebecca always talked to grown people as if she were their age, or, a more subtle and truer distinction, as if they were hers.)
"It has often been so remarked, in different words," agreed the minister.
"Mrs. Baxter said that each star was a state, and if each state did its best we should have a splendid country. Then once she said that we ought to be glad the war is over and the States are all at peace together; and I thought Columbia must be glad, too, for Miss Dearborn says she's the mother of all the States. So I'm going to have it end like this: I did n't write it, I just sewed it while I was working on my star:—
"For it's your star, my star, all the stars together,
That make our country's flag so proud
To float in the bright fall weather.
Northern stars, Southern stars, stars of the East and West,
Side by side they lie at peace
On the dear flag's mother-breast."
"'Oh! many are the poets that are sown by Nature,'" thought the minister, quoting Wordsworth to himself. "And I wonder what becomes of them! That's a pretty idea, little Rebecca, and I don't know whether you or my wife ought to have the more praise. What made you think of the stars lying on the flag's 'mother-breast'? Were did you get that word?"
"Why" (and the young poet looked rather puzzled), "that's the way it is; the flag is the whole country—the mother—and the stars are the states. The stars had to lie somewhere: 'lap' nor 'arms' wouldn't sound well with 'West,' so, of course, I said 'breast,'" Rebecca answered, with some surprise at the question; and the minister put his hand under her chin and kissed her softly on the forehead when he said good-by at the door.
As she approached the turning on the left, called the old Milltown road, she saw a white horse and wagon, driven by a man with a rakish, flapping, Panama hat, come rapidly around the turn and disappear over the long hills leading down to the falls. There was no mistaking him; there never was another Abner Simpson, with his lean height, his bushy reddish hair, the gay cock of his hat, and the long, piratical, upturned mustaches, which the boys used to say were used as hat-racks by the Simpson children at night. The old Milltown road ran past Mrs. Fogg's house, so he must have left Clara Belle there, and Rebecca's heart glowed to think that her poor little friend need not miss the raising.
She began to run now, fearful of being late for supper, and covered the ground to the falls in a brief time. As she crossed the bridge she again saw Abner Simpson's team, drawn90 up at the watering-trough.
Coming a little nearer with the view of inquiring for the family, her quick eye caught sight of something unexpected. A gust28 of wind blew up a corner of a linen91 lap-robe in the back of the wagon, and underneath92 it she distinctly saw the white-sheeted bundle that held the flag; the bundle with a tiny, tiny spot of red bunting peeping out at one corner. It is true she had eaten, slept, dreamed red, white, and blue for weeks, but there was no mistaking the evidence of her senses; the idolized flag, longed for, worked for, sewed for, that flag was in the back of Abner Simpson's wagon, and if so, what would become of the raising?
Acting93 on blind impulse, she ran toward the watering-trough, calling out in her clear treble "Mr. Simpson! Oh, Mr. Simpson, will you let me ride a little way with you and hear all about Clara Belle? I'm going over to the Centre on an errand." (So she was; a most important errand,—to recover the flag of her country at present in the hands of the foe95!)
Mr. Simpson turned round in his seat and cried heartily, "Certain sure I will!" for he liked the fair sex, young and old, and Rebecca had always been a prime favorite with him. "Climb right in! How's everybody? Glad to see you! The folks talk 'bout94 you from sun-up to sun-down, and Clara Belle can't hardly wait for a sight of you!"
Rebecca scrambled96 up, trembling and pale with excitement. She did not in the least know what was going to happen, but she was sure that the flag, when in the enemy's country, must be at least a little safer with the State of Maine sitting on top of it! Mr. Simpson began a long monologue97 about Acreville, the house he lived in, the pond in front of it, Mrs. Simpson's health and various items of news about the children, varied98 by reports of his personal misfortunes. He put no questions, and asked no replies, so this gave the inexperienced soldier a few seconds to plan a campaign. There were three houses to pass; the Browns' at the corner, the Millikens', and the Robinsons' on the brow of the hill. If Mr. Robinson were in the front yard she might tell Mr. Simpson she wanted to call there and ask Mr. Robinson to hold the horse's head while she got out of the wagon. Then she might fly to the back before Mr. Simpson could realize the situation, and dragging out the precious bundle, sit on it hard, while Mr. Robinson settled the matter of ownership with Mr. Simpson.
This was feasible, but it meant a quarrel between the two men, who held an ancient grudge99 against each other, and Mr. Simpson was a valiant100 fighter, as the various sheriffs who had attempted to arrest him could cordially testify. It also meant that everybody in the village would hear of the incident and poor Clara Belle be branded again as the child of a thief.
Another idea danced into her excited brain; such a clever one she could hardly believe it hers. She might call Mr. Robinson to the wagon, and when he came close to the wheels she might say, suddenly: "Please take the flag out of the back of the wagon, Mr. Robinson. We have brought it here for you to keep overnight." Then Mr. Simpson might be so surprised that he would give up his prize rather than be suspected of stealing.
But as they neared the Robinsons' house there was not a sign of life to be seen; so the last plan, ingenious though it was, was perforce abandoned.
The road now lay between thick pine woods with no dwelling101 in sight. It was growing dusk and Rebecca was driving along the lonely way with a person who was generally called Slippery Simpson.
Not a thought of fear crossed her mind, save the fear of bungling102 in her diplomacy103, and so losing the flag. She knew Mr. Simpson well, and a pleasanter man was seldom to be met. She recalled an afternoon when he came home and surprised the whole school playing the Revolutionary War in his helter-skelter dooryard, and the way in which he had joined the British forces and impersonated General Burgoyne had greatly endeared him to her. The only difficulty was to find proper words for her delicate mission, for, of course, if Mr. Simpson's anger were aroused, he would politely push her out of the wagon and drive away with the flag. Perhaps if she led the conversation in the right direction an opportunity would present itself. Clearing her throat nervously104, she began:—
"Is it likely to be fair to-morrow?"
"Guess so; clear as a bell. What's on foot; a picnic?"
"No; we're to have a grand flag-raising!" ("That is," she thought, "if we have any flag to raise!")
"That so? Where?"
"The three villages are to club together and have a rally, and raise the flag at the Centre. There'll be a brass band, and speakers, and the Mayor of Portland, and the man that will be governor if he's elected, and a dinner in the Grange Hall, and we girls are chosen to raise the flag."
"I want to know! That'll be grand, won't it?" (Still not a sign of consciousness on the part of Abner.)
"I hope Mrs. Fogg will take Clara Belle, for it will be splendid to look at! Mr. Cobb is going to be Uncle Sam and drive us on the stage. Miss Dearborn—Clara Belle's old teacher, you know is going to be Columbia; the girls will be the States of the union, and oh, Mr. Simpson, I am the one to be the State of Maine!" Mr. Simpson flourished the whipstock and gave a loud, hearty105 laugh. Then he turned in his seat and regarded Rebecca curiously106.
"You're kind o' small, ain't ye, for so big a state as this one?" he asked.
"Any of us would be too small," replied Rebecca with dignity, "but the committee asked me, and I am going to try hard to do well."
The tragic107 thought that there might be no occasion for anybody to do anything, well or ill, suddenly overcame her here, and putting her hand on Mr. Simpson's sleeve, she attacked the subject practically and courageously108.
"Oh, Mr. Simpson, dear Mr. Simpson, it's such a mortifying109 subject I can't bear to say anything about it, but please give us back our flag! Don't, don't take it over to Acreville, Mr. Simpson! We've worked so long to make it, and it was so hard getting the money for the bunting! Wait a minute, please; don't be angry, and don't say no just yet, till I explain more. It'll be so dreadful for everybody to get there to-morrow morning and find no flag to raise, and the band and the mayor all disappointed, and the children crying, with their muslin dresses all bought for nothing! Oh, dear Mr. Simpson, please don't take our flag away from us!"
The apparently110 astonished Abner pulled his mustaches and exclaimed: "But I don't know what you're drivin' at! Who's got yer flag? I hain't!"
Could duplicity, deceit, and infamy111 go any further, Rebecca wondered, and her soul filling with righteous wrath112, she cast discretion113 to the winds and spoke a little more plainly, bending her great swimming eyes on the now embarrassed Abner, who looked like an angle-worm wriggling114 on a pin.
"Mr. Simpson, how can you say that, when I saw the flag in the back of your wagon myself, when you stopped to water the horse? It's wicked of you to take it, and I cannot bear it!" Her voice broke now, for a doubt of Mr. Simpson's yielding suddenly darkened her mind. "If you keep it, you'll have to keep me, for I won't be parted from it! I can't fight like the boys, but I can pinch and scratch, and I will scratch, just like a panther—I'll lie right down on my star and not move, if I starve to death!" "Look here, hold your hosses 'n' don't cry till you git something to cry for!" grumbled115 the outraged116 Abner, to whom a clue had just come; and leaning over the wagon-back he caught hold of a corner of white sheet and dragged up the bundle, scooping117 off Rebecca's hat in the process, and almost burying her in bunting.
She caught the treasure passionately118 to her heart and stifled119 her sobs120 in it, while Abner exclaimed "I declare to man, if that hain't a flag! Well, in that case you're good 'n' welcome to it! Land! I seen that bundle lyin' in the middle o' the road and I says to myself, that's somebody's washin' and I'd better pick it up and leave it at the post-office to be claimed; 'n' all the time it was a flag!"
This was a Simpsonian version of the matter, the fact being that a white-covered bundle lying on the Meserves' front steps had attracted his practiced eye, and slipping in at the open gate he had swiftly and deftly121 removed it to his wagon on general principles; thinking if it were clean clothes it would be extremely useful, and in any event there was no good in passing by something flung into one's very arms, so to speak. He had had no leisure to examine the bundle, and indeed took little interest in it. Probably he stole it simply from force of habit, and because there was nothing else in sight to steal, everybody's premises being preternaturally tidy and empty, almost as if his visit had been expected! Rebecca was a practical child, and it seemed to her almost impossible that so heavy a bundle should fall out of Mrs. Meserve's buggy and not be noticed; but she hoped that Mr. Simpson was telling the truth, and she was too glad and grateful to doubt any one at the moment.
"Thank you, thank you ever so much, Mr. Simpson. You're the nicest, kindest, politest man I ever knew, and the girls will be so pleased you gave us back the flag, and so will the Dorcas Society; they'll be sure to write you a letter of thanks; they always do."
"Tell 'em not to bother 'bout any thanks," said Simpson, beaming virtuously122. "But land! I'm glad 't was me that happened to see that bundle in the road and take the trouble to pick it up."
("Jest to think of it's bein' a flag!" he thought; "if ever there was a pesky, wuthless thing to trade off, 't would be a great, gormin' flag like that!")
"Can I get out now, please?" asked Rebecca. "I want to go back, for Mrs. Meserve will be dreadfully nervous when she finds out she dropped the flag, and it hurts her health to be nervous."
"No, you don't," objected Mr. Simpson gallantly, turning the horse. "Do you think I'd let a little creeter like you lug123 that great heavy bundle? I hain't got time to go back to Meserve's, but I'll take you to the corner and dump you there, flag'n' all, and you can get some o' the men-folks to carry it the rest o' the way. You'll wear it out, huggin' it so!"
"I helped make it and I adore it!" said Rebecca, who was in a grandiloquent124 mood. "Why don't you like it? It's your country's flag."
Simpson smiled an indulgent smile and looked a trifle bored at these appeals to his extremely rusty125 better feelings. "I don' know's I've got any particular int'rest in the country," he remarked languidly. "I know I don't owe nothin' to it, nor own nothin' in it!"
"You own a star on the flag, same as everybody," argued Rebecca, who had been feeding on patriotism for a month; "and you own a state, too, like all the rest of us!"
"Land! I wish't I did! or even a quarter section of one!" sighed Mr. Simpson, feeling somehow a little more poverty-stricken and discouraged than usual.
As they approached the corner and the watering-trough where four cross-roads met, the whole neighborhood seemed to be in evidence, and Mr. Simpson suddenly regretted his chivalrous126 escort of Rebecca; especially when, as he neared the group, an excited lady, wringing127 her hands, turned out to be Mrs. Peter Meserve, accompanied by Huldah, the Browns, Mrs. Milliken, Abijah Flagg, and Miss Dearborn. "Do you know anything about the new flag, Rebecca?" shrieked128 Mrs. Meserve, too agitated129, for a moment, to notice the child's companion.
"It's right here in my lap, all safe," responded Rebecca joyously.
"You careless, meddlesome130 young one, to take it off my steps where I left it just long enough to go round to the back and hunt up my door-key! You've given me a fit of sickness with my weak heart, and what business was it of yours? I believe you think you own the flag! Hand it over to me this minute!"
Rebecca was climbing down during this torrent131 of language, but as she turned she flashed one look of knowledge at the false Simpson, a look that went through him from head to foot, as if it were carried by electricity.
He saw that he had not deceived her after all, owing to the angry chatter83 of Mrs. Meserve. He had been handcuffed twice in his life, but no sheriff had ever discomfited133 him so thoroughly134 as this child. Fury mounted to his brain, and as soon as she was safely out from between the wheels he stood up in the wagon and flung the flag out in the road in the midst of the excited group.
"Take it, you pious135, stingy, scandal-talkin', flag-raisin' crew!" he roared. "Rebecca never took the flag; I found it in the road, I say!"
"You never, no such a thing!" exclaimed Mrs. Meserve. "You found it on the doorsteps in my garden!"
"Mebbe 't was your garden, but it was so chock full o' weeds I thought 't was the road," retorted Abner. "I vow136 I wouldn't 'a' given the old rag back to one o' you, not if you begged me on your knees! But Rebecca's a friend o' my folks and can do with her flag's she's a mind to, and the rest o' ye can do what ye like an' go where ye like, for all I care!"
So saying, he made a sharp turn, gave the gaunt white horse a lash132 and disappeared in a cloud of dust, before the astonished Mr. Brown, the only man in the party, had a thought of detaining him.
"I'm sorry I spoke so quick, Rebecca," said Mrs. Meserve, greatly mortified137 at the situation. "But don't you believe a word that lyin' critter said! He did steal it off my doorstep, and how did you come to be ridin' and consortin' with him? I believe it would kill your Aunt Miranda if she should hear about it!"
The little school-teacher put a sheltering arm round Rebecca as Mr. Brown picked up the flag and dusted and folded it.
"I'm willing she should hear about it," Rebecca answered. "I didn't do anything to be ashamed of! I saw the flag in the back of Mr. Simpson's wagon and I just followed it. There weren't any men or any Dorcas ladies to take care of it so it fell to me! You would n't have had me let it out of my sight, would you, and we going to raise it to-morrow morning?"
"Rebecca's perfectly right, Mrs. Meserve!" said Miss Dearborn proudly. "And it's lucky there was somebody quick-witted enough to 'ride and consort138' with Mr. Simpson! I don't know what the village will think, but seems to me the town clerk might write down in his book, 'This day the State of Maine saved the flag!'"
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attained
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| （通常经过努力）实现( attain的过去式和过去分词 )； 达到； 获得； 达到（某年龄、水平、状况） | |
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circumference
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| n.圆周，周长，圆周线 | |
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grudgingly
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hem
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| n.贴边，镶边；vt.缝贴边；(in)包围，限制 | |
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5
glorify
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| vt.颂扬，赞美，使增光，美化 | |
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6
pageants
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| n.盛装的游行( pageant的名词复数 )；穿古代服装的游行；再现历史场景的娱乐活动；盛会 | |
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7
providence
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| n.深谋远虑，天道，天意；远见；节约；上帝 | |
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8
patriotic
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| adj.爱国的，有爱国心的 | |
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9
sewers
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| n.阴沟，污水管，下水道( sewer的名词复数 ) | |
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10
basted
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| v.打( baste的过去式和过去分词 )；粗缝；痛斥；（烤肉等时）往上抹[浇]油 | |
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11
baste
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| v.殴打，公开责骂 | |
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12
proceedings
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| n.进程，过程，议程；诉讼(程序)；公报 | |
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13
squire
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| n.护卫, 侍从, 乡绅 | |
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14
corps
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| n.(通信等兵种的)部队；(同类作的)一组 | |
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15
martial
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| adj.战争的，军事的，尚武的，威武的 | |
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16
deafened
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| 使聋( deafen的过去式和过去分词 )； 使隔音 | |
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17
patriotism
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| n.爱国精神，爱国心，爱国主义 | |
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18
oozing
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| v.（浓液等）慢慢地冒出，渗出( ooze的现在分词 )；使（液体）缓缓流出；（浓液）渗出，慢慢流出 | |
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19
vessel
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| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
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20
graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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21
contrive
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| vt.谋划，策划；设法做到；设计，想出 | |
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22
bleach
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| vt.使漂白；vi.变白；n.漂白剂 | |
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23
juvenile
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| n.青少年，少年读物；adj.青少年的，幼稚的 | |
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24
virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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25
refractory
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| adj.倔强的，难驾驭的 | |
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26
basting
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| n.疏缝；疏缝的针脚；疏缝用线；涂油v.打( baste的现在分词 )；粗缝；痛斥；（烤肉等时）往上抹[浇]油 | |
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27
starry
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| adj.星光照耀的, 闪亮的 | |
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28
gust
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| n.阵风，突然一阵（雨、烟等），（感情的）迸发 | |
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29
rites
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| 仪式，典礼( rite的名词复数 ) | |
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30
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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31
confirmation
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| n.证实，确认，批准 | |
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32
joyously
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| ad.快乐地, 高兴地 | |
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33
kindle
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| v.点燃，着火 | |
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34
winsome
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| n.迷人的，漂亮的 | |
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35
covet
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| vt.垂涎；贪图(尤指属于他人的东西) | |
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36
consecrated
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| adj.神圣的，被视为神圣的v.把…奉为神圣，给…祝圣( consecrate的过去式和过去分词 )；奉献 | |
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37
labor
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| n.劳动，努力，工作，劳工；分娩；vi.劳动，努力，苦干；vt.详细分析；麻烦 | |
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38
conscientiously
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| adv.凭良心地；认真地，负责尽职地；老老实实 | |
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39
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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40
slippers
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| n. 拖鞋 | |
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41
subscription
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| n.预订，预订费，亲笔签名，调配法，下标（处方） | |
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42
brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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43
giggler
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44
transpired
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| （事实，秘密等）被人知道( transpire的过去式和过去分词 )； 泄露； 显露； 发生 | |
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45
jealousy
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| n.妒忌，嫉妒，猜忌 | |
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46
heartily
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| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
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47
heed
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| v.注意，留意；n.注意，留心 | |
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48
expectancy
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| n.期望，预期，（根据概率统计求得）预期数额 | |
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49
meek
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| adj.温顺的，逆来顺受的 | |
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50
humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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51
belle
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| n.靓女 | |
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52
gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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53
disposition
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| n.性情，性格；意向，倾向；排列，部署 | |
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54
genial
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| adj.亲切的，和蔼的，愉快的，脾气好的 | |
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55
instinctive
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| adj.(出于)本能的；直觉的；(出于)天性的 | |
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56
tact
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| n.机敏，圆滑，得体 | |
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57
scythe
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| n. 长柄的大镰刀，战车镰； v. 以大镰刀割 | |
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58
fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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59
wagon
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| n.四轮马车，手推车，面包车；无盖运货列车 | |
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60
hitched
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| （免费）搭乘他人之车( hitch的过去式和过去分词 )； 搭便车； 攀上； 跃上 | |
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61
hatchet
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| n.短柄小斧；v.扼杀 | |
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62
axe
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| n.斧子；v.用斧头砍，削减 | |
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63
bleaching
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| 漂白法，漂白 | |
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64
shovel
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| n.铁锨，铲子，一铲之量；v.铲，铲出 | |
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65
tempted
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| v.怂恿（某人）干不正当的事；冒…的险（tempt的过去分词） | |
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66
swapping
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| 交换，交换技术 | |
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67
spouse
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| n.配偶(指夫或妻) | |
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68
metropolis
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| n.首府；大城市 | |
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69
docile
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| adj.驯服的，易控制的，容易教的 | |
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70
gallantly
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| adv. 漂亮地，勇敢地，献殷勤地 | |
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71
substantiated
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| v.用事实支持（某主张、说法等），证明，证实( substantiate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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72
blot
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| vt.弄脏（用吸墨纸）吸干；n.污点，污渍 | |
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73
opposition
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| n.反对，敌对 | |
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74
intimacy
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| n.熟悉，亲密，密切关系，亲昵的言行 | |
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75
groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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76
homely
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| adj.家常的，简朴的；不漂亮的 | |
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77
freckles
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| n.雀斑，斑点( freckle的名词复数 ) | |
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78
quaint
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| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
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79
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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80
watchfully
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| 警惕地，留心地 | |
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81
premises
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| n.建筑物，房屋 | |
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82
chattering
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| n. （机器振动发出的）咔嗒声，(鸟等)鸣，啁啾 adj. 喋喋不休的，啾啾声的 动词chatter的现在分词形式 | |
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83
chatter
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| vi.／n.喋喋不休；短促尖叫；(牙齿)打战 | |
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84
porcupine
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| n.豪猪， 箭猪 | |
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85
natal
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| adj.出生的，先天的 | |
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86
maker
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| n.制造者，制造商 | |
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87
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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88
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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89
twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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90
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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91
linen
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| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
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92
underneath
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| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
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93
acting
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| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
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94
bout
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| n.侵袭，发作；一次(阵，回)；拳击等比赛 | |
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95
foe
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| n.敌人，仇敌 | |
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96
scrambled
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的过去式和过去分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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97
monologue
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| n.长篇大论，（戏剧等中的）独白 | |
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98
varied
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| adj.多样的，多变化的 | |
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99
grudge
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| n.不满，怨恨，妒嫉；vt.勉强给，不情愿做 | |
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100
valiant
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| adj.勇敢的，英勇的；n.勇士，勇敢的人 | |
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101
dwelling
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| n.住宅，住所，寓所 | |
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102
bungling
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| adj.笨拙的，粗劣的v.搞糟，完不成( bungle的现在分词 )；笨手笨脚地做；失败；完不成 | |
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103
diplomacy
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| n.外交；外交手腕，交际手腕 | |
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104
nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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105
hearty
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| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
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106
curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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107
tragic
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| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
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108
courageously
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| ad.勇敢地，无畏地 | |
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109
mortifying
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| adj.抑制的，苦修的v.使受辱( mortify的现在分词 )；伤害（人的感情）；克制；抑制（肉体、情感等） | |
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110
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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111
infamy
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| n.声名狼藉，出丑，恶行 | |
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112
wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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113
discretion
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| n.谨慎；随意处理 | |
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114
wriggling
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| v.扭动，蠕动，蜿蜒行进( wriggle的现在分词 )；（使身体某一部位）扭动；耍滑不做，逃避（应做的事等）；蠕蠕 | |
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115
grumbled
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| 抱怨( grumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 发牢骚； 咕哝； 发哼声 | |
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116
outraged
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| a.震惊的，义愤填膺的 | |
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117
scooping
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| n.捞球v.抢先报道( scoop的现在分词 )；（敏捷地）抱起；抢先获得；用铲[勺]等挖（洞等） | |
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118
passionately
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| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
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119
stifled
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| （使）窒息， （使）窒闷( stifle的过去式和过去分词 )； 镇压，遏制； 堵 | |
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120
sobs
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| 啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 ) | |
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121
deftly
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| adv.灵巧地，熟练地，敏捷地 | |
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122
virtuously
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| 合乎道德地，善良地 | |
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123
lug
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| n.柄，突出部，螺帽；(英）耳朵；（俚）笨蛋；vt.拖，拉，用力拖动 | |
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124
grandiloquent
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| adj.夸张的 | |
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125
rusty
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| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
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126
chivalrous
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| adj.武士精神的；对女人彬彬有礼的 | |
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127
wringing
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| 淋湿的，湿透的 | |
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128
shrieked
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| v.尖叫( shriek的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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129
agitated
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| adj.被鼓动的，不安的 | |
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meddlesome
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| adj.爱管闲事的 | |
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torrent
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| n.激流，洪流；爆发，(话语等的)连发 | |
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lash
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| v.系牢；鞭打；猛烈抨击；n.鞭打；眼睫毛 | |
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133
discomfited
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| v.使为难( discomfit的过去式和过去分词)；使狼狈；使挫折；挫败 | |
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134
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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135
pious
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| adj.虔诚的；道貌岸然的 | |
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vow
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| n.誓(言)，誓约；v.起誓，立誓 | |
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137
mortified
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| v.使受辱( mortify的过去式和过去分词 )；伤害（人的感情）；克制；抑制（肉体、情感等） | |
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consort
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| v.相伴；结交 | |
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