Chapter 1
The Catastrophe"Clear the lulla!" was the general cry on a bright Decemberafternoon, when all the boys and girls of Harmony Village wereout enjoying the first good snow of the season. Up and down threelong coasts they went as fast as legs and sleds could carry them.
　　One smooth path led into the meadow, and here the little folkcongregated; one swept across the pond, where skaters weredarting about like water-bugs; and the third, from the very top ofthe steep hill, ended abruptly at a rail fence on the high bank abovethe road. There was a group of lads and lasses sitting or leaning onthis fence to rest after an exciting race, and, as they reposed, theyamused themselves with criticising their mates, still absorbed inthis most delightful of out-door sports.
　　"Here comes Frank Minot, looking as solemn as a judge," criedone, as a tall fellow of sixteen spun by, with a set look about themouth and a keen sparkle of the eyes, fixed on the distant goalwith a do-or-die expression.
　　"Here's Molly LooAnd little Boo?
　　sang out another; and down came a girl with flying hair, carrying asmall boy behind her, so fat that his short legs stuck out from thesides, and his round face looked over her shoulder like a fullmoon.
　　"There's Gus Burton; doesn't he go it?" and such a very long boywhizzed by, that it looked almost as if his heels were at the top ofthe hill when his head was at the bottom!
　　"Hurrah for Ed Devlin!" and a general shout greeted a sweet-facedlad, with a laugh on his lips, a fine color on his brown cheek, and agay word for every girl he passed.
　　"Laura and Lotty keep to the safe coast into the meadow, andMolly Loo is the only girl that dares to try this long one to thepond. I wouldn't for the world; the ice can't be strong yet, though itis cold enough to freeze one's nose off," said a timid damsel, whosat hugging a post and screaming whenever a mischievous ladshook the fence.
　　"No, she isn't here's Jack and Jill going like fury.""Clear the trackFor jolly Jack!"sang the boys, who had rhymes and nicknames for nearlyeveryone.
　　Down came a gay red sled, bearing a boy who seemed all smileand sunshine, so white were his teeth, so golden was his hair, sobright and happy his whole air. Behind him clung a little gypsy ofa girl, with black eyes and hair, cheeks as red as her hood, and aface full of fun and sparkle, as she waved Jack's blue tippet like abanner with one hand, and held on with the other.
　　"Jill goes wherever Jack does, and he lets her. He's such agood-natured chap, he can't say No.""To a girl," slyly added one of the boys, who had wished to borrowthe red sled, and had been politely refused because Jill wanted it.
　　"He's the nicest boy in the world, for he never gets mad," said thetimid young lady, recalling the many times Jack had shielded herfrom the terrors which beset her path to school, in the shape ofcows, dogs, and boys who made faces and called her "Fraidcat.""He doesn't dare to get mad with Jill, for she'd take his head off intwo minutes if he did," growled Joe Flint, still smarting from therebuke Jill had given him for robbing the little ones of their safecoast because he fancied it.
　　"She wouldn't! she's a dear! You needn't sniff at her because she ispoor. She's ever so much brighter than you are, or she wouldn'talways be at the head of your class, old Joe," cried the girls,standing by their friend with a unanimity which proved what afavorite she was.
　　Joe subsided with as scornful a curl to his nose as its chilly statepermitted, and Merry Grant introduced a subject of general interestby asking abruptly,"Who is going to the candy-scrape to-night?""All of us. Frank invited the whole set, and we shall have a tiptoptime. We always do at the Minots'," cried Sue, the timid trembler.
　　"Jack said there was a barrel of molasses in the house, so therewould be enough for all to eat and some to carry away. They knowhow to do things handsomely"; and the speaker licked his lips, as ifalready tasting the feast in store for him.
　　"Mrs. Minot is a mother worth having," said Molly Loo, coming upwith Boo on the sled; and she knew what it was to need a mother,for she had none, and tried to care for the little brother withmaternal love and patience.
　　"She is just as sweet as she can be!" declared Merry,enthusiastically.
　　"Especially when she has a candy-scrape," said Joe, trying to beamiable, lest he should be left out of the party.
　　Whereat they all laughed, and went gayly away for a farewellfrolic, as the sun was setting and the keen wind nipped fingers andtoes as well as noses.
　　Down they went, one after another, on the various coasts solemnFrank, long Gus, gallant Ed, fly-away Molly Loo, pretty Laura andLotty, grumpy Joe, sweet-faced Merry with Sue shrieking wildlybehind her, gay Jack and gypsy Jill, always together one and allbubbling over with the innocent jollity born of healthful exercise.
　　People passing in the road below looked up and smiledinvoluntarily at the red-cheeked lads and lasses, filling the frostyair with peals of laughter and cries of triumph as they flew by inevery conceivable attitude; for the fun was at its height now, andthe oldest and gravest observers felt a glow of pleasure as theylooked, remembering their own young days.
　　"Jack, take me down that coast. Joe said I wouldn't dare to do it, soI must," commanded Jill, as they paused for breath after the longtrudge up hill. Jill, of course, was not her real name, but had beengiven because of her friendship with Jack, who so admired JaneyPecq's spirit and fun.
　　"I guess I wouldn't, It is very bumpy and ends in a big drift; nothalf so nice as this one. Hop on and we'll have a good spin acrossthe pond"; and Jack brought "Thunderbolt" round with a skilfulswing and an engaging air that would have won obedience fromanybody but wilful Jill.
　　"It is very nice, but I won't be told I don't 'dare by any boy in theworld. If you are afraid, I'll go alone." And, before he could speak,she had snatched the rope from his hand, thrown herself upon thesled, and was off, helter-skelter, down the most dangerous coast onthe hill-side.
　　She did not get far, however; for, starting in a hurry, she did notguide her steed with care, and the red charger landed her in thesnow half-way down, where she lay laughing till Jack came to pickher up.
　　"If you will go, I'll take you down all right. I m not afraid, for I vedone it a dozen times with the other fellows; but we gave it upbecause it is short and bad," he said, still good-natured, though ofcows, dogs, and boys who made faces and called her "Fraidcat.
　　"He doesn't dare to get mad with Jill, for she'd take his head off intwo minutes if he did," growled Joe Flint, still smarting horn therebuke Jill had given him for robbing the little ones of their safecoast because he fancied it.
　　"She wouldn't! she's a dear! You needn't sniff at her because she ispoor. She's ever so much brighter than you are, or she wouldn'talways be at the head of your class, old Joe," cried the girls,standing by their friend with a unanimity which proved what afavorite she was.
　　Joe subsided with as scornful a curl to his nose as its chilly statepermitted, and Merry Grant introduced a subject of general interestby asking abruptly,"Who is going to the candy-scrape to-night?""All of us. Frank invited the whole set, and we shall have a tiptoptime. We always do at the Minors'," cried Sue, the timid trembler.
　　"Jack said there was a barrel of molasses in the house, so therewould be enough for all to eat and some to carry away. They knowhow to do things handsomely"; and the speaker licked his lips, as ifalready tasting the feast in store for him.
　　"Mrs. Minot is a mother worth having," said Molly Loo, coming upwith Boo on the sled; and she knew what it was to need a mother,for she had none, and tried to care for the little brother withmaternal love and patience.
　　"She is just as sweet as she can be!" declared Merry,enthusiastically.
　　"Especially when she has a candy-scrape," said Joe, trying to beamiable, lest he should be left out of the party.
　　Whereat they all laughed, and went gayly away for a farewellfrolic, as the sun was setting and the keen wind nipped fingers andtoes as well as noses.
　　A little hurt at the charge of cowardice; for Jack was as brave as alittle lion, and with the best sort of bravery the courage to do right.
　　"So it is; but I must do it a few times, or Joe will plague me andspoil my fun to-night," answered Jill, shaking her skirts andrubbing her blue hands, wet and cold with the snow.
　　"Here, put these on; I never use them. Keep them if they fit; I onlycarry them to please mother." And Jack pulled out a pair of redmittens with the air of a boy used to giving away.
　　"They are lovely warm, and they do fit. Must be too small for yourpaws, so I'll knit you a new pair for Christmas, and make you wearthem, too," said Jill, putting on the mittens with a nod of thanks,and ending her speech with a stamp of her rubber boots to enforceher threat.
　　Jack laughed, and up they trudged to the spot whence the threecoasts diverged.
　　"Now, which will you have?" he asked, with a warning look in thehonest blue eyes which often unconsciously controlled naughty Jillagainst her will.
　　"That one!" and the red mitten pointed firmly to the perilous pathjust tried.
　　"You will do it?""Come on, then, and hold tight."Jack's smile was gone now, and he waited without a word whileJill tucked herself up, then took his place in front, and off theywent on the brief, breathless trip straight into the drift by the fencebelow.
　　"I don't see anything very awful in that. Come up and have another.
　　Joe is watching us, and I d like to show him that we aren't afraid ofanything," said Jill, with a defiant glance at a distant boy, who hadpaused to watch the descent.
　　"It is a regular 'go-bang, if that is what you like," answered Jack,as they plowed their way up again.
　　"It is. You boys think girls like little mean coasts without any funor danger in them, as if we couldn't be brave and strong as well asyou. Give me three go-bangs and then we'll stop. My tumbledoesn't count, so give me two more and then I'll be good."Jill took her seat as she spoke, and looked up with such a rosy,pleading face that Jack gave in at once, and down they went again,raising a cloud of glittering snow-dust as they reined up in finestyle with their feet on the fence.
　　"It's just splendid! Now, one more!" cried Jill, excited by thecheers of a sleighing party passing below.
　　Proud of his skill, Jack marched back, resolved to make the third"go" the crowning achievement of the afternoon, while Jill prancedafter him as lightly as if the big boots were the famousseven-leagued ones, and chattering about the candy-scrape andwhether there would be nuts or not.
　　So full were they of this important question, that they piled onhap-hazard, and started off still talking so busily that Jill forgot tohold tight and Jack to steer carefully. Alas, for the candy-scrapethat never was to be! Alas, for poor "Thunderbolt" blindly settingforth on the last trip he ever made! And oh, alas, for Jack and Jill,who wilfully chose the wrong road and ended their fun for thewinter! No one knew how it happened, but instead of landing inthe drift, or at the fence, there was a great crash against the bars, adreadful plunge off the steep bank, a sudden scattering of girl, boy,sled, fence, earth, and snow, all about the road, two cries, and thensilence.
　　"I knew they'd do it!" and, standing on the post where he hadperched, Joe waved his arms and shouted: "Smash-up! Smash-up!
　　Run! Run!" like a raven croaking over a battlefield when the fightwas done.
　　Down rushed boys and girls ready to laugh or cry, as the casemight be, for accidents will happen on the best-regulatedcoasting-grounds. They found Jack sitting up looking about himwith a queer, dazed expression, while an ugly cut on the foreheadwas bleeding in a way which sobered the boys and frightened thegirls half out of their wits.
　　"He's killed! He's killed!" wailed Sue, hiding her face andbeginning to cry.
　　"No, I m not. I'll be all right when I get my breath. Where's Jill?"asked Jack, stoutly, though still too giddy to see straight.
　　The group about him opened, and his comrade in misfortune wasdiscovered lying quietly in the snow with all the pretty colorshocked out of her face by the fall, and winking rapidly, as if halfstunned. But no wounds appeared, and when asked if she wasdead, she answered in a vague sort of way,"I guess not. is Jack hurt?""Broken his head," croaked Joe, stepping aside, that she mightbehold the fallen hero vainly trying to look calm and cheerful withred drops running down his cheek and a lump on his forehead.
　　Jill shut her eyes and waved the girls away, saying, faintly, "Nevermind me. Go and see to him.""Don't! I m all right," and Jack tried to get up in order to prove thatheaders off a bank were mere trifles to him; but at the firstmovement of the left leg he uttered a sharp cry of pain, and wouldhave fallen if Gus had not caught and gently laid him down.
　　"What is it, old chap?" asked Frank, kneeling beside him, reallyalarmed now, the hurts seeming worse than mere bumps, whichwere common affairs among baseball players, and not worth muchnotice.
　　"I lit on my head, but I guess I've broken my leg. Don't frightenmother," and Jack held fast to Frank's arm as he looked into theanxious face bent over him; for, though the elder tyrannized overthe younger, the brothers loved one another dearly.
　　"Lift his head, Frank, while I tie my handkerchief round to stop thebleeding," said a quiet voice, as Ed Devlin laid a handful of softsnow on the wound; and Jack's face brightened as he turned tothank the one big boy who never was rough with the small ones.
　　"Better get him right home," advised Gus, who stood by lookingon, with his little sisters Laura and Lotty clinging to him.
　　"Take Jill, too, for it's my opinion she has broken her back. Shecan't stir one bit," announced Molly Loo, with a droll air oftriumph, as if rather pleased than otherwise to have her patient hurtthe worse; for Jack's wound was very effective, and Molly had ataste for the tragic.
　　This cheerful statement was greeted with a wail from Susan andhowls from Boo, who had earned that name from the ease withwhich, on all occasions, he could burst into a dismal roar withoutshedding a tear, and stop as suddenly as he began.
　　"Oh, I am so sorry! It was my fault; I shouldn't have let her do it,"said Jack, distressfully.
　　"It was all my fault; I made him. If I d broken every bone I've got,it would serve me right. Don't help me, anybody; I m a wickedthing, and I deserve to lie here and freeze and starve and die!"cried Jill, piling up punishments in her remorseful anguish of mindand body.
　　"But we want to help you, and we can settle about blame by andby," whispered Merry with a kiss; for she adored dashing Jill, andnever would own that she did wrong.
　　"Here come the wood-sleds just in time. I'll cut away and tell oneof them to hurry up." And, freeing himself from his sisters, Guswent off at a great pace, proving that the long legs carried asensible head as well as a kind heart.
　　As the first sled approached, an air of relief pervaded the agitatedparty, for it was driven by Mr. Grant, a big, benevolent-lookingfarmer, who surveyed the scene with the sympathetic interest of aman and a father.
　　"Had a little accident, have you? Well, that's a pretty likely placefor a spill. Tried it once myself and broke the bridge of my nose,"he said, tapping that massive feature with a laugh which showedthat fifty years of farming had not taken all the boy out of him.
　　"Now then, let's see about this little chore, and lively, too, for it'slate, and these parties ought to be housed," he added, throwingdown his whip, pushing back his cap, and nodding at the woundedwith a reassuring smile.
　　"Jill first, please, sir," said Ed, the gentle squire of dames,spreading his overcoat on the sled as eagerly as ever Raleigh laiddown his velvet cloak for a queen to walk upon.
　　"All right. Just lay easy, my dear, and I won't hurt you a mite if Ican help it."Careful as Mr. Grant was, Jill could have screamed with pain as helifted her; but she set her lips and bore it with the courage of alittle Indian; for all the lads were looking on, and Jill was proud toshow that a girl could bear as much as a boy. She hid her face inthe coat as soon as she was settled, to hide the tears that wouldcome, and by the time Jack was placed beside her, she had quite alittle cistern of salt water stored up in Ed's coat-pocket.
　　Then the mournful procession set forth, Mr. Grant driving theoxen, the girls clustering about the interesting invalids on the sled,while the boys came behind like a guard of honor, leaving the hilldeserted by all but Joe, who had returned to hover about the fatalfence, and poor "Thunderbolt," split asunder, lying on the bank tomark the spot where the great catastrophe occurred.
Chapter 2
Two PenitentsJack and Jill never cared to say much about the night whichfollowed the first coasting party of the season, for it was thesaddest and the hardest their short lives had ever known. Jacksuffered most in body; for the setting of the broken leg was such apainful job, that it wrung several sharp cries from him, and madeFrank, who helped, quite weak and white with sympathy, when itwas over. The wounded head ached dreadfully, and the poor boyfelt as if bruised all over, for he had the worst of the fall. Dr.
　　Whiting spoke cheerfully of the case, and made so light of brokenlegs, that Jack innocently asked if he should not be up in a week orso.
　　"Well, no; it usually takes twenty-one days for bones to knit, andyoung ones make quick work of it," answered the doctor, with alast scientific tuck to the various bandages, which made Jack feellike a hapless chicken trussed for the spit.
　　"Twenty-one days! Three whole weeks in bed! I shouldn't call thatquick work," groaned the dismayed patient, whose experience ofillness had been limited.
　　"It is a forty days job, young man, and you must make up yourmind to bear it like a hero. We will do our best; but next time, lookbefore you leap, and save your bones. Good-night; you'll feelbetter in the morning. No jigs, remember"; and off went the busydoctor for another look at Jill, who had been ordered to bed andleft to rest till the other case was attended to.
　　Anyone would have thought Jack's plight much the worse, but thedoctor looked more sober over Jill's hurt back than the boy'scompound fractures; and the poor little girl had a very bad quarterof an hour while he was trying to discover the extent 0f the injury,"Keep her quiet, and time will show how much damage is done,"was all he said in her hearing; but if she had known that he toldMrs. Pecq he feared serious consequences, she would not havewondered why her mother cried as she rubbed the numb limbs andpaced the pillows so tenderly.
　　Jill suffered most in her mind; for only a sharp stab of pain nowand then reminded her of her body; but her remorseful little soulgave her no peace for thinking of Jack, whose bruises andbreakages her lively fancy painted in the darkest colors.
　　"Oh, don't be good to me, Mammy; I made him go, and now he'shurt dreadfully, and may die; and it is all my fault, and everybodyought to hate me," sobbed poor Jill, as a neighbor left the roomafter reporting in a minute manner how Jack screamed when hisleg was set, and how Frank was found white as a sheet, with hishead under the pump, while Gus restored the tone of his friend'snerves, by pumping as if the house was on fire.
　　"Whist, my lass, and go to sleep. Take a sup of the good wine Mrs.
　　Minot sent, for you are as cold as a clod, and it breaks my heart tosee my Janey so.""I can't go to sleep; I don't see how Jack's mother could send myanything when I've half killed him. I want to be cold and ache andhave horrid things done to me. Oh, if I ever get out of this bed I'llbe the best girl in the world, to pay for this. See if I ain t!" and Jillgave such a decided nod that her tears flew all about the pillowlike a shower.
　　"You d better begin at once, for you won't get out of that bed for along while, I m afraid, my lamb," sighed her mother, unable toconceal the anxiety that lay so heavy on her heart.
　　"Am I hurt badly, Mammy?""I fear it, lass.""I'm glad of it; I ought to be worse than Jack, and I hope I am. I'llbear it well, and be good right away. Sing, Mammy, and I'll try togo to sleep to please you."Jill shut her eyes with sudden and unusual meekness, and beforeher mother had crooned half a dozen verses of an old ballad, thelittle black head lay still upon the pillow, and repentant Jill wasfast asleep with a red mitten in her hand.
　　Mrs. Pecq was an Englishwoman who had left Montreal at thedeath of her husband, a French Canadian, and had come to live inthe tiny cottage which stood near Mrs. Minot's big house,separated only by an arbor-vitae hedge. A sad, silent person, whohad seen better days, but said nothing about them, and earned herbread by sewing, nursing, work in the factory, or anything thatcame in her way, being anxious to educate her little girl. Now, asshe sat beside the bed in the small, poor room, that hope almostdied within her, for here was the child laid up for months,probably, and the one ambition and pleasure of the solitarywoman's life was to see Janey Pecq's name over all the high marksin the school-reports she proudly brought home.
　　"She'll win through, please Heaven, and I'll see my lass agentlewoman yet, thanks to the good friend in yonder, who willnever let her want for care," thought the poor soul, looking out intothe gloom where a long ray of light streamed from the great housewarm and comfortable upon the cottage, like the spirit of kindnesswhich made the inmates friends and neighbors.
　　Meantime, that other mother sat by her boy's bed as anxious butwith better hope, for Mrs. Minot made trouble sweet and helpfulby the way in which she bore it; and her boys were learning of herhow to find silver linings to the clouds that must come into thebluest skies.
　　Jack lay wide awake, with hot cheeks, and throbbing head, and allsorts of queer sensations in the broken leg. The soothing potion hehad taken did not affect him yet, and he tried to beguile the wearytime by wondering who came and went below. Gentle rings at thefront door, and mysterious tappings at the back, had been going onall the evening; for the report of the accident had grownastonishingly in its travels, and at eight o clock the general beliefwas that Jack had broken both legs, fractured his skull, and lay atthe point of death, while Jill had dislocated one shoulder, and wasbruised black and blue from top to toe. Such being the case, it isno wonder that anxious playmates and neighbors haunted thedoorsteps of the two houses, and that offers of help poured in.
　　Frank, having tied up the bell and put a notice in the lightedside-window, saying, "Go to the back door," sat in the parlor,supported by his chum, Gus, while Ed played softly on the piano,hoping to lull Jack to sleep. It did soothe him, for a very sweetfriendship existed between the tall youth and the lad of thirteen.
　　Ed went with the big fellows, but always had a kind word for thesmaller boys; and affectionate Jack, never ashamed to show hislove, was often seen with his arm round Ed's shoulder, as they sattogether in the pleasant red parlors, where all the young peoplewere welcome and Frank was king.
　　"Is the pain any easier, my darling?" asked Mrs. Minot, leaningover the pillow, where the golden head lay quiet for a moment.
　　"Not much. I forget it listening to the music. Dear old Ed isplaying all my favorite tunes, and it is very nice. I guess he feelspretty sorry about me.""They all do. Frank could not talk of it. Gus wouldn't go home totea, he was so anxious to do something for us. Joe brought backthe bits of your poor sled, because he didn't like to leave themlying round for anyone to carry off, he said, and you might likethem to remember your fall by."Jack tried to laugh, but it was rather a failure, though be managedto say, cheerfully,"That was good of old Joe. I wouldn't lend him 'Thunderbolt forfear he d hurt it. Couldn't have smashed it up better than I did,could he? Don't think I want any pieces to remind me of that fall. Ijust wish you d seen us, mother! It must have been a splendid spillto look at, anyway.""No, thank you; I d rather not even try to imagine my precious boygoing heels over head down that dreadful hill. No more pranks ofthat sort for some time, Jacky"; and Mrs. Minot looked ratherpleased on the whole to have her venturesome bird safe under hermaternal wing.
　　"No coasting till some time in January. What a fool I was to do it!
　　Go-bangs always are dangerous, and that's the fun of the thing. Ohdear!"Jack threw his arms about and frowned darkly, but never said aword of the wilful little baggage who had led him into mischief; hewas too much of a gentleman to tell on a girl, though it cost him aneffort to hold his tongue, because Mamma's good opinion was veryprecious to him, and he longed to explain. She knew all about it,however, for Jill had been carried into the house reviling herselffor the mishap, and even in the midst of her own anxiety for herboy, Mrs. Minot understood the state of the case without morewords. So she now set his mind at rest by saying, quietly.
　　"Foolish fun, as you see, dear. Another time, stand firm and helpJill to control her headstrong will. When you learn to yield less andshe more, there will be no scrapes like this to try us all.""I'll remember, mother. I hate not to be obliging, but I guess itwould have saved us lots of trouble if I'd said No in thebeginning. I tried to, but she would go. Poor Jill! I'll take bettercare of her next time. Is she very ill, Mamma?""I can tell you better to-morrow. She does not suffer much, and wehope there is no great harm done.""I wish she had a nice place like this to be sick in. It must be verypoky in those little rooms," said Jack, as his eye roved round thelarge chamber where he lay so cosey, warm, and pleasant, with thegay chintz curtains draping doors and windows, the rosy carpet,comfortable chairs, and a fire glowing in the grate.
　　"I shall see that she suffers for nothing, so don't trouble your kindheart about her to-night, but try to sleep; that's what you need,"answered his mother, wetting the bandage on his forehead, andputting a cool hand on the flushed cheeks.
　　Jack obediently closed his eyes and listened while the boys sang"The Sweet By and By," softening their rough young voices for hissake till the music was as soft as a lullaby. He lay so still hismother thought he was off, but presently a tear slipped out androlled down the red cheek, wetting her hand as it passed.
　　"My blessed boy, what is it?" she whispered, with a touch and atone that only mothers have.
　　The blue eyes opened wide, and Jack's own sunshiny smile brokethrough the tears that filled them as he said with a sniff,"Everybody is so good to me I can't help making a noodle ofmyself.
　　"You are not a noodle!" cried Mamma, resenting the epithet. "Oneof the sweet things about pain and sorrow is that they show us howwell we are loved, how much kindness there is in the world, andhow easily we can make others happy in the same way when theyneed help and sympathy. Don't forget that, little son,""Don't see how I can, with you to show me how nice it is. Kiss megood-night, and then 'I'll be good, as Jill says."Nestling his head upon his mother's arm, Jack lay quiet till, lulledby the music of his mates, he drowsed away into the dreamlesssleep which is Nurse Nature's healthiest soothing sirup for wearysouls and bodies.
Chapter 3
For some days, nothing was seen and little was heard of the "dearsufferers," as the old ladies called them. But they were notforgotten; the first words uttered when any of the young peoplemet were: "How is Jack?" "Seen Jill yet?" and all waited withimpatience for the moment when they could be admitted to theirfavorite mates, more than ever objects of interest now.
　　Meantime, the captives spent the first few days in sleep, pain, andtrying to accept the hard fact that school and play were done withfor months perhaps. But young spirits are wonderfully elastic andsoon cheer up, and healthy young bodies heal fast, or easily adaptthemselves to new conditions. So our invalids began to mend onthe fourth day, and to drive their nurses distracted with efforts toamuse them, before the first week was over.
　　The most successful attempt originated in Ward No. I, as Mrs.
　　Minot called Jack's apartment, and we will give our sympathizingreaders some idea of this place, which became the stage whereonwere enacted many varied and remarkable scenes.
　　Each of the Minot boys had his own room, and there collected hisown treasures and trophies, arranged to suit his convenience andtaste. Frank's was full of books, maps, machinery, chemicalmesses, and geometrical drawings, which adorned the walls likeintricate cobwebs. A big chair, where he read and studied with hisheels higher than his head, a basket of apples for refreshment at allhours of the day or night, and an immense inkstand, in whichseveral pens were always apparently bathing their feet, were theprincipal ornaments of his scholastic retreat.
　　Jack's hobby was athletic sports, for he was bent on having astrong and active body for his happy little soul to live and enjoyitself in. So a severe simplicity reigned in his apartment; insummer, especially, for then his floor was bare, his windows wereuncurtained, and the chairs uncushioned, the bed being as narrowand hard as Napoleon's. The only ornaments were dumbbells,whips, bats, rods, skates, boxing-gloves, a big bath-pan and a smalllibrary, consisting chiefly of books on games, horses, health,hunting, and travels. In winter his mother made things morecomfortable by introducing rugs, curtains, and a fire. Jack, also,relented slightly in the severity of his training, occasionallyindulging in the national buckwheat cake, instead of the prescribedoatmeal porridge, for breakfast, omitting his cold bath when thethermometer was below zero, and dancing at night, instead ofrunning a given distance by day.
　　Now, however, he was a helpless captive, given over to all sorts ofcoddling, laziness, and luxury, and there was a droll mixture ofmirth and melancholy in his face, as he lay trussed up in bed,watching the comforts which had suddenly robbed his room of itsSpartan simplicity. A delicious couch was there, with Frankreposing in its depths, half hidden under several folios which hewas consulting for a history of the steam-engine, the subject of hisnext composition.
　　A white-covered table stood near, with all manner of dainties setforth in a way to tempt the sternest principles. Vases of flowersbloomed on the chimney-piece gifts from anxious young ladies,left with their love. Frivolous story-books and picture-papersstrewed the bed, now shrouded in effeminate chintz curtains,beneath which Jack lay like a wounded warrior in his tent. But thesaddest sight for our crippled athlete was a glimpse, through ahalf-opened door, at the beloved dumb-bells, bats, balls,boxing-gloves, and snow-shoes, all piled ignominiously away inthe bath-pan, mournfully recalling the fact that their day was over,now, at least for some time.
　　He was about to groan dismally, when his eye fell on a sight whichmade him swallow the groan, and cough instead, as if it chokedhim a little. The sight was his mother's face, as she sat in a lowchair rolling bandages, with a basket beside her in which werepiles of old linen, lint, plaster, and other matters, needed for thedressing of wounds. As he looked, Jack remembered how steadilyand tenderly she had stood by him all through the har4 times justpast, and how carefully she had bathed and dressed his wound eachday in spite of the effort it cost her to give him pain or even seehim suffer.
　　"That's a better sort of strength than swinging twenty-pounddumb-bells or running races; I guess I'll try for that kind, too, andnot howl or let her see me squirm when the doctor hurts," thoughtthe boy, as he saw that gentle face so pale and tired with muchwatching and anxiety, yet so patient, serene, and cheerful, that itwas like sunshine.
　　"Lie down and take a good nap, mother dear, I feel first-rate, andFrank can see to me if I want anything. Do, now," he added, with apersuasive nod toward the couch, and a boyish relish in stirring uphis lazy brother.
　　After some urging, Mamma consented to go to her room for fortywinks, leaving Jack in the care of Frank, begging him to be asquiet as possible if the dear boy wished to sleep, and to amuse himif he did not.
　　Being worn out, Mrs. Minot lengthened her forty winks into athree hours nap, and as the "dear boy" scorned repose, Mr. Frankhad his hands full while on guard.
　　"I'll read to you. Here's Watt, Arkwright, Fulton, and a lot ofcapital fellows, with pictures that will do your heart good. Have abit, will you?" asked the new nurse, flapping the leaves invitinglyfor Frank bad a passion for such things, and drew steam-enginesall over his slate, as Tommy Traddles drew hosts of skeletonswhen low in his spirits.
　　"I don't want any of your old boilers and stokers and whirligigs. Im tired of reading, and want something regularly jolly," answeredJack, who had been chasing white buffaloes with "The Hunters ofthe West," till he was a trifle tired and fractious.
　　"Play cribbage, euchre, anything you like"; and Frank obliginglydisinterred himself from under the folios, feeling that it was hardfor a fellow to lie flat a whole week.
　　"No fun; just two of us. Wish school was over, so the boys wouldcome in; doctor said I might see them now.""They'll be along by and by, and I'll hail them. Till then, whatshall we do? I'm your man for anything, only put a name to it.
　　"Just wish I had a telegraph or a telephone, so I could talk to Jill.
　　Wouldn't it be fun to pipe across and get an answer!""I'll make either you say"; and Frank looked as if trifles of that sortwere to be had for the asking.
　　"Could you, really?""We'll start the telegraph first, then you can send things over if youlike," said Frank, prudently proposing the surest experiment.
　　"Go ahead, then. I'd like that, and so would Jill, for I know shewants to hear from me.""There's one trouble, though; I shall have to leave you alone for afew minutes while I rig up the ropes"; and Frank looked sober, forhe was a faithful boy, and did not want to desert his post.
　　"Oh, never mind; I won't want anything. If I'd o, I can pound forAnn.""And wake mother. I'll fix you a better way than that"; and, full ofinventive genius, our young Edison spliced the poker to part of afishing-rod in a jiffy, making a long-handled hook which reachedacross the room.
　　"There's an arm for you; now hook away, and let's see how itworks," he said, handing over the instrument to Jack, whoproceeded to show its unexpected capabilities by hooking the clothoff the table in attempting to get his handkerchief, catching Frankby the hair when fishing for a book, and breaking a pane of glass intrying to draw down the curtain. -"It's so everlasting long, I can't manage it," laughed Jack, as itfinally caught in his bed-hangings, and nearly pulled them, ringand all, down upon his head.
　　"Let it alone, unless you need something very much, and don'tbother about the glass. It's just what we want for the telegraph wireor rope to go through. Keep still, and I'll have the thing running inten minutes"; and, delighted with the job, Frank hurried away,leaving Jack to compose a message to send as soon as it waspossible.
　　"What in the world is that flying across the Minots' yard a brownhen or a boy's kite?" exclaimed old Miss Hopkins, peering out ofher window at the singular performances going on in her oppositeneighbor's garden.
　　First, Frank appeared with a hatchet and chopped a clear space inthe hedge between his own house and the cottage; next, a clothesline was passed through this aperture and fastened somewhere onthe other side; lastly, a small covered basket, slung on this rope,was seen hitching along, drawn either way by a set of strings; then,as if satisfied with his job, Frank retired, whistling "HailColumbia.""It's those children at their pranks again. I thought broken boneswouldn't keep them out of mischief long," said the old lady,watching with great interest the mysterious basket travelling upand down the rope from the big house to the cottage.
　　If she had seen what came and went over the wires of the "GreatInternational Telegraph," she would have laughed till herspectacles flew off her Roman nose. A letter from Jack, with alarge orange, went first, explaining the new enterprise:
　　"Dear Jill-It's too bad you can't come over to see me. I am prettywell, but awful tired of keeping still. I want to see you ever somuch. Frank has fixed us a telegraph, so we can write and sendthings. Won't it be jolly! I can't look out to see him do it; but, whenyou pull your string, my little bell rings, and I know a message iscoming. I send you an orange. Do you like gorver jelly? Peoplesend in lots of goodies, and we will go halves. Good-by.
　　Jack"Away went the basket, and in fifteen minutes it came back fromthe cottage with nothing in it but the orange.
　　"Hullo! Is she mad?" asked Jack, as Frank brought the despatch forhim to examine.
　　But, at the first touch, the hollow peel opened, and out fell a letter,two gum-drops, and an owl made of a peanut, with round eyesdrawn at the end where the stem formed a funny beak. Two bits ofstraw were the legs, and the face looked so like Dr. Whiting thatboth boys laughed at the sight.
　　"That's so like Jill; she'd make fun if she was half dead. Let's seewhat she says"; and Jack read the little note, which showed a sadneglect of the spelling-book:
　　"Dear Jacky-I can't stir and it's horrid. The telly graf is very niceand we will have fun with it. I never ate any gorver jelly. Theorange was first rate. Send me a book to read. All about bears andships and crockydiles. The doctor was coming to see you, so I senthim the quickest way. Molly Loo says it is dreadful lonesome atschool without us. Yours truly,Jill"Jack immediately despatched the book and a sample of guavajelly, which unfortunately upset on the way, to the great detrimentof "The Wild Beasts of Asia and Africa." Jill promptly respondedwith the loan of a tiny black kitten, who emerged spitting andscratching, to Jack's great delight; and he was cudgelling his brainsas to how a fat white rabbit could be transported, when a shrillwhistle from without saved Jill from that inconvenient offering.
　　"It's the fellows; do you want to see them?" asked Frank, gazingdown with calm superiority upon the three eager faces whichlooked up at him.
　　"Guess I'd o!" and Jack promptly threw the kitten overboard,scorning to be seen by any manly eye amusing himself with suchgirlish toys.
　　Bang! went the front door; tramp, tramp, tramp, came six bootedfeet up the stairs; and, as Frank threw wide the door, three largebeings paused on the threshold to deliver the courteous "Hullo!"which is the established greeting among boys on all socialoccasions.
　　"Come along, old fellows; I'm ever so glad to see you!" cried theinvalid, with such energetic demonstrations of the arms that helooked as if about to fly or crow, like an excited young cockerel.
　　"How are you, Major?""Does the leg ache much, Jack?""Mr. Phipps says you'll have to pay for the new rails."With these characteristic greetings, the gentlemen cast away theirhats and sat down, all grinning cheerfully, and all with eyesirresistibly fixed upon the dainties, which proved too much for thepoliteness of ever-hungry boys.
　　"Help yourselves," said Jack, with a hospitable wave. "All the dearold ladies in town have been sending in nice things, and I can'tbegin to eat them up. Lend a hand and clear away thislot, or we shall have to throw them out of the window. Bring onthe doughnuts and the tarts and the shaky stuff in the entry closet,Frank, and let's have a lark."No sooner said than done. Gus took the tarts, Joe the doughnuts,Ed the jelly, and Frank suggested "spoons all round" for the Italiancream. A few trifles in the way of custard, fruit, and wafer biscuitswere not worth mentioning; but every dish was soon emptied, andJack said, as he surveyed the scene of devastation with greatsatisfaction,"Call again to-morrow, gentlemen, and we will have another bout.
　　Free lunches at ~ P.M. till further notice. Now tell me all thenews."For half an hour, five tongues went like mill clappers, and there isno knowing when they would have stopped if the little bell had notsuddenly rung with a violence that made them jump.
　　"That's Jill; see what she wants, Frank"; and while his brother sentoff the basket, Jack told about the new invention, and invited hismates to examine and admire.
　　They did so, and shouted with merriment when the next despatchfrom Jill arrived. A pasteboard jumping-jack, with one leg done upin cotton-wool to preserve the likeness, and a great lump ofmolasses candy in a brown paper, with accompanying note:
　　"Dear Sir-I saw the boys go in, and know you are having a nicetime, so I send over the candy Molly Loo and Merry brought me.
　　Mammy says I can't eat it, and it will all melt away if I keep it.
　　Also a picture of Jack Minot, who will dance on one leg andwaggle the other, and make you laugh. I wish I could come, too.
　　Don't you hate grewel? I'do. In haste,J.P. ""Let's all send her a letter," proposed Jack, and out came pens, ink,paper, and the lamp, and everyone fell to scribbling. A drollcollection was the result, for Frank drew a picture of the fatal fallwith broken rails flying in every direction, Jack with his headswollen to the size of a balloon, and Jill in two pieces, while thevarious boys and girls were hit off with a sly skill that gave Guslegs like a stork, Molly Loo hair several yards long, and Boo aseries of visible howls coming out of an immense mouth in theshape of o s. The oxen were particularly good, for their hornsbranched like those of the moose, and Mr. Grant had a patriarchalbeard which waved in the breeze as he bore the wounded girl to asled very like a funeral pyre, the stakes being crowned with bigmittens like torches.
　　"You ought to be an artist. I never saw such a dabster as you are.
　　That's the very moral of Joe, all in a bunch on the fence, with ablot to show how purple his nose was," said Gus, holding up thesketch for general criticism and admiration.
　　"I'd rather have a red nose than legs like a grasshopper; so youneedn't twit, Daddy," growled Joe, quite unconscious that a blotactually did adorn his nose, as he labored over a brief despatch.
　　The boys enjoyed the joke, and one after the other read out hismessage to the captive lady:
　　"Dear Jill-Sorry you ain't here. Great fun. Jack pretty lively. Lauraand Lot would send love if they knew of the chance. Fly round andget well.
　　Gus""Dear Gilliflower-Hope you are pretty comfortable in your'dungeon cell. Would you like a serenade when the moon comes?
　　Hope you will soon be up again, for we miss you very much. Shallbe very happy to help in anyway I can. Love to your mother. Yourtrue friend,E.D.""Miss Pecq.
　　"Dear Madam-I am happy to tell you that we are all well, and hopeyou are the same. I gave Jem Cox a licking because he went toyour desk. You had better send for your books. You won't have topay for the sled or the fence. Jack says he will see to it. We havebeen having a spread over here. First-rate things. I wouldn't mindbreaking a leg, if I had such good grub and no chores to do. Nomore now, from yours, with esteem,Joseph P. Flint"Joe thought that an elegant epistle, having copied portions of itfrom the "Letter Writer," and proudly read it off to the boys, whoassured him that Jill would be much impressed.
　　"Now, Jack, hurry up and let us send the lot off, for we must go,"said Gus, as Frank put the letters in the basket, and the clatter oftea-things was heard below.
　　"I'm not going to show mine. It's private and you mustn't look,"answered Jack, patting down an envelope with such care that noone had a chance to peep.
　　But Joe had seen the little note copied, and while the others wereat the window working the telegraph he caught up the original,carelessly thrust by Jack under the pillow, and read it aloud beforeanyone knew what he was about.
　　"My Dear-I wish I could send you some of my good times. As Ican't, I send you much love, and I hope you will try and be patientas I am going to, for it was our fault, and we must not make a fussnow. Ain't mothers sweet? Mine is coming over to-morrow to seeyou and tell me how you are. This round thing is a kiss forgood-night.
　　Your Jack""Isn't that spoony? You d better hide your face, I think. He's gettingto be a regular mollycoddle, isn't he?" jeered Joe, as the boyslaughed, and then grew sober, seeing Jack's head buried in thebedclothes, after sending a pillow at his tormentor.
　　It nearly hit Mrs. Minot, coming in with her patient's tea on a tray,and at sight of her the guests hurriedly took leave, Joe nearlytumbling downstairs to escape from Frank, who would havefollowed, if his mother had not said quickly, "Stay, and tell mewhat is the matter.""Only teasing Jack a bit. Don't be mad, old boy, Joe didn't meanany harm, and it was rather soft, now wasn't it?" asked Frank,trying to appease the wounded feelings of his brother.
　　"I charged you not to worry him. Those boys were too much for thepoor dear, and I ought not to have left him," said Mamma, as shevainly endeavored to find and caress the yellow head burrowed sofar out of sight that nothing but one red ear was visible.
　　"He liked it, and we got on capitally till Joe roughed him aboutJill. Ah, Joe's getting it now! I thought Gus and Ed would do thatlittle job for me," added Frank, running to the window as the soundof stifled cries and laughter reached him.
　　The red ear heard also, and Jack popped up his head to ask, withinterest,'What are they doing to him?""Rolling him in the snow, and he's howling like fun.""Serves him right," muttered Jack, with a frown. Then, as a wailarose suggestive of an unpleasant mixture of snow in the mouthand thumps on the back, he burst out laughing, and said,good-naturedly, "Go and stop them, Frank; I won't mind, only tellhim it was a mean trick. Hurry! Gus is so strong he doesn't knowhow his pounding hurts."Off ran Frank, and Jack told his wrongs to his mother. Shesympathized heartily, and saw no harm in the affectionate littlenote, which would please Jill, and help her to bear her trialspatiently.
　　"It isn't silly to be fond of her, is it? She is so nice and funny, andtries to be good, and likes me, and I won't be ashamed of myfriends, if folks do laugh," protested Jack, with a rap of histeaspoon.
　　"No, dear, it is quite kind and proper, and I'd rather have you playwith a merry little girl than with rough boys till you are big enoughto hold your own," answered Mamma, putting the cup to his lipsthat the reclining lad might take his broma without spilling.
　　"Pooh! I don't mean that; I'm strong enough now to take care ofmyself," cried Jack, stoutly. "I can thrash Joe any day, if I like. Justlook at my arm; there's muscle for you!" and up went a sleeve, tothe great danger of overturning the tray, as the boy proudlydisplayed his biceps and expanded his chest, both of which werevery fine for a lad of his years. "If I'd been on my legs, hewouldn't have dared to insult me, and it was cowardly to hit afellow when he was down.
　　Mrs. Minot wanted to laugh at Jack's indignation, but the bell rang,and she had to go and pull in the basket, much amused at the newgame.
　　Burning to distinguish herself in the eyes of the big boys, Jill hadsent over a tall, red flannel night-cap, which she had been makingfor some proposed Christmas plays, and added the following verse,for she was considered a gifted rhymester at the game parties:
　　"When it comes night,We put out the light.
　　Some blow with a puff,Some turn down and snuff;But neat folks preferA nice extinguisher.
　　So here I send you backOne to put on Mr. Jack.""Now, I call that regularly smart; not one of us could do it, and Ijust wish Joe was here to see it. I want to send once more,something good for tea; she hates gruel so"; and the last despatchwhich the Great International Telegraph carried that day was abaked apple and a warm muffin, with "J. M.'s best regards."
Chapter 4
"I do believe the child will fret herself into a fever, mem, and I mclean distraught to know what to do for her. She never used tomind trifles, but now she frets about the oddest things, and I can'tchange them. This wall-paper is well enough, but she has taken afancy that the spots on it look like spiders, and it makes hernervous. I've no other warm place to put her, and no money for anew paper. Poor lass! There are hard times before her, I'm fearing.
　　Mrs. Pecq said this in a low voice to Mrs. Minot, who came in asoften as she could, to see what her neighbor needed; for bothmothers were anxious, and sympathy drew them to one another.
　　While one woman talked, the other looked about the little room,not wondering in the least that Jill found it hard to be contentedthere. It was very neat, but so plain that there was not even apicture on the walls, nor an ornament upon the mantel, except thenecessary clock, lamp, and match-box. The paper was ugly, beinga deep buff with a brown figure that did look very like spiderssprawling over it, and might well make one nervous to look at dayafter day.
　　Jill was asleep in the folding chair Dr. Whiting had sent, with amattress to make it soft. The back could be raised or lowered atwill; but only a few inches had been gained as yet, and the thinhair pillow was all she could bear. She looked very pretty as shelay, with dark lashes against the feverish cheeks, lips apart, and acloud of curly black locks all about the face pillowed on one arm.
　　She seemed like a brilliant little flower in that dull place for theFrench blood in her veins gave her a color, warmth, and gracewhich were very charming. Her natural love of beauty showeditself in many ways: a red ribbon had tied up her hair, a gay butfaded shawl was thrown over the bed, and the gifts sent her werearranged with care upon the table by her side among her own fewtoys and treasures. There was something pathetic in this childishattempt to beautify the poor place, and Mrs. Minot's eyes were fullas she looked at the tired woman, whose one joy and comfort laythere in such sad plight.
　　"My dear soul, cheer up, and we will help one another through thehard times," she said, with a soft hand on the rough one, and a lookthat promised much.
　　"Please God, we will, mem! With such good friends, I nevershould complain. I try not to do it, but it breaks my heart to see mylittle lass spoiled for life, most like"; and Mrs. Pecq pressed thekind hand with a despondent sigh.
　　"We won't say, or even think, that, yet. Everything is possible toyouth and health like Janey s. We must keep her happy, and timewill do the rest, I'm sure. Let us begin at once, and have a surprisefor her when she wakes."As she spoke, Mrs. Minot moved quietly about the room, pinningthe pages of several illustrated papers against the wall at the footof the bed, and placing to the best advantage the other comfortsshe had brought.
　　"Keep up your heart, neighbor. I have an idea in my head which Ithink will help us all, if I can carry it out," she said, cheerily, as shewent, leaving Mrs. Pecq to sew on Jack's new night-gowns, withswift fingers, and the grateful wish that she might work for thesegood friends forever.
　　As if the whispering and rustling had disturbed her, Jill soon beganto stir, and slowly opened the eyes which had closed so wearily onthe dull December afternoon. The bare wall with its brown spidersno longer confronted her, but the colored print of a little girldancing to the tune her father was playing on a guitar, while astately lady, with satin dress, ruff, and powder, stood looking on,well pleased. The quaint figure, in its belaced frock, quiltedpetticoat, and red-heeled shoes, seemed to come tripping towardher in such a life-like way, that she almost saw the curls blowback, heard the rustle of the rich brocade, and caught the sparkleof the little maid's bright eyes.
　　"Oh, how pretty! Who sent them?" asked Jill, eagerly, as her eyeglanced along the wall, seeing other new and interesting thingsbeyond: an elephant-hunt, a ship in full sail, a horse-race, and aball-room.
　　"The good fairy who never comes empty-handed. Look round a bitand you will see more pretties all for you, my dearie"; and hermother pointed to a bunch of purple grapes in a green leaf plate, aknot of bright flowers pinned on the white curtain, and a gay littledouble gown across the foot of the bed.
　　Jill clapped her hands, and was enjoying her new pleasures, whenin came Merry and Molly Loo, with Boo, of course, trotting afterher like a fat and amiable puppy. Then the good times began; thegown was put on, the fruit tasted, and the pictures were studiedlike famous works of art.
　　"It's a splendid plan to cover up that hateful wall. I'd stick picturesall round and have a gallery. That reminds me! Up in the garret atour house is a box full of old fashion-books my aunt left. I oftenlook at them on rainy days, and they are very funny. I'll go thisminute and get everyone. We can pin them up, or make paperdolls"; and away rushed Molly Loo, with the small brotherwaddling behind, for, when he lost sight of her, he was desolateindeed.
　　The girls had fits of laughter over the queer costumes of yearsgone by, and put up a splendid procession of ladies in full skirts,towering hats, pointed slippers, powdered hair, simpering faces,and impossible waists.
　　"I do think this bride is perfectly splendid, the long train and vailare so sweet," said Jill, revelling in fine clothes as she turned fromone plate to another.
　　"I like the elephants best, and I'd give anything to go on a huntlike that!" cried Molly Loo, who rode cows, drove any horse shecould get, had nine cats, and was not afraid of the biggest dog thatever barked.
　　"I fancy 'The Dancing Lesson ; it is so sort of splendid, with thegreat windows, gold chairs, and fine folks. Oh, I would like to livein a castle with a father and mother like that," said Merry, who wasromantic, and found the old farmhouse on the bill a sad trial to herhigh-flown ideas of elegance.
　　"Now, that ship, setting out for some far-away place, is more to mymind. I weary for home now and then, and mean to see it againsome day"; and Mrs. Pecq looked longingly at the English ship,though it was evidently outward bound. Then, as if reproachingherself for discontent, she added: "It looks like those I used to seegoing off to India with a load of missionaries. I came near goingmyself once, with a lady bound for Siam; but I went to Canadawith her sister, and here I am.""I'd like to be a missionary and go where folks throw their babiesto the crocodiles. I'd watch and fish them out, and have a school,and bring them up, and convert all the people till they knewbetter," said warm-hearted Molly Loo, who befriended everyabused animal and forlorn child she met.
　　"We needn't go to Africa to be missionaries; they have 'em nearerhome and need 'em, too. In all the big cities there are a many, andthey have their hands full with the poor, the wicked, and thehelpless. One can find that sort of work anywhere, if one has amind," said Mrs. Pecq.
　　"I wish we had some to do here. I'd so like to go round withbaskets of tea and rice, and give out tracts and talk to people.
　　Wouldn't you, girls?" asked Molly, much taken with the new idea.
　　"It would be rather nice to have a society all to ourselves, and havemeetings and resolutions and things," answered Merry, who wasfond of little ceremonies, and always went to the sewing circlewith her mother.
　　"We wouldn't let the boys come in. We d have it a secret society,as they'd o their temperance lodge, and we d have badges andpass-words and grips. It would be fun if we can only get someheathen to work at!" cried Jill, ready for fresh enterprises of everysort.
　　"I can tell you someone to begin on right away," said her mother,nodding at her. "As wild a little savage as I'd wish to see. Takeher in hand, and make a pretty-mannered lady of her. Begin athome, my lass, and you'll find missionary work enough for awhile.""Now, Mammy, you mean me! Well, I will begin; and I'll be sogood, folks won't know me. Being sick makes naughty childrenbehave in story-books, I'll see if live ones can t"; and Jill put onsuch a sanctified face that the girls laughed and asked for theirmissions also, thinking they would be the same.
　　"You, Merry, might do a deal at home helping mother, and settingthe big brothers a good example. One little girl in a house can dopretty much as she will, especially if she has a mind to make plainthings nice and comfortable, and not long for castles before sheknows how to do her own tasks well," was the first unexpectedreply.
　　Merry colored, but took the reproof sweetly, resolving to do whatshe could, and surprised to find how many ways seemed open toher after a few minutes thought.
　　"Where shall I begin? I'm not afraid of a dozen crocodiles afterMiss Bat"; and Molly Loo looked about her with a fierce air,having had practice in battles with the old lady who kept herfather's house.
　　"Well, dear, you haven't far to look for as nice a little heathen asyou d wish"; and Mrs. Pecq glanced at Boo, who sat on the floorstaring hard at them, attracted by the dread word "crocodile." Hehad a cold and no handkerchief, his little hands were red withchilblains, his clothes shabby, he had untidy darns in the knees ofhis stockings, and a head of tight curls that evidently had not beencombed for some time.
　　"Yes, I know he is, and I try to keep him decent, but I forget, andhe hates to be fixed, and Miss Bat doesn't care, and father laughswhen I talk about it."Poor Molly Loo looked much ashamed as she made excuses, tryingat the same time to mend matters by seizing Boo and dusting himall over with her handkerchief, giving a pull at his hair as if ringingbells, and then dumping him down again with the despairingexclamation: "Yes, we re a pair of heathens, and there's no one tosave us if I don't."That was true enough; for Molly's father was a busy man, carelessof everything but his mills, Miss Bat was old and lazy, and felt asif she might take life easy after serving the motherless children formany years as well as she knew how. Molly was beginning to seehow much amiss things were at home, and old enough to feelmortified, though, as yet, she had done nothing to mend the matterexcept be kind to the little boy.
　　"You will, my dear," answered Mrs. Pecq, encouragingly, for sheknew all about it. "Now you ve each got a mission, let us see howwell you will get on. Keep it secret, if you like, and report once aweek. I'll be a member, and we'll do great things yet.""We won't begin till after Christmas; there is so much to do, wenever shall have time for any more. Don't tell, and we'll start fairat New Year s, if not before," said Jill, taking the lead as usual.
　　Then they went on with the gay ladies, who certainly were heathenenough in dress to be in sad need of conversion to common-senseat least.
　　"I feel as if I was at a party," said Jill, after a pause occupied insurveying her gallery with great satisfaction, for dress was herdelight, and here she had every conceivable style and color.
　　"Talking of parties, isn't it too bad that we must give up ourChristmas fun? Can't get on without you and Jack, so we are notgoing to do a thing, but just have our presents," said Merry, sadly,as they began to fit different heads and bodies together, to try drolleffects.
　　"I shall be all well in a fortnight, I know; but Jack won t, for it willtake more than a month to mend his poor leg. Maybe, they willhave a dance in the boys big room, and he can look on," suggestedJill, with a glance at the dancing damsel on the wall, for she dearlyloved it, and never guessed how long it would be before her lightfeet would keep time to music again.
　　"You d better give Jack a hint about the party. Send over somesmart ladies, and say they have come to his Christmas ball,"proposed audacious Molly Loo, always ready for fun.
　　So they put a preposterous green bonnet, top-heavy with plumes,on a little lady in yellow, who sat in a carriage; the lady beside her,in winter costume of velvet pelisse and ermine boa, was fitted to abride's head with its orange flowers and veil, and these works ofart were sent over to Jack, labelled "Miss Laura and Lotty Burtongoing to the Minots' Christmas balI" a piece of naughtiness onJill's part, for she knew Jack liked the pretty sisters, whose gentlemanners made her own wild ways seem all the more blamable.
　　No answer came for a long time, and the girls had almost forgottentheir joke in a game of Letters, when "Tingle, tangle!" went thebell, and the basket came in heavily laden. A roll of colored paperswas tied outside, and within was a box that rattled, a green andsilver horn, a roll of narrow ribbons, a spool of strong thread, somelarge needles, and a note from Mrs. Minot:
　　"Dear Jill-I think of having a Christmas tree so that our invalidscan enjoy it, and all your elegant friends are cordially invited.
　　Knowing that you would like to help, I send some paper forsugar-plum horns and some beads for necklaces. They willbrighten the tree and please the girls for themselves or their dolls.
　　Jack sends you a horn for a pattern, and will you make aladder-necklace to show him how? Let me know if you needanything.
　　Yours in haste,Anna Minot""She knew what the child would like, bless her kind heart," saidMrs. Pecq to herself, and something brighter than the most silverybead shone on Jack's shirt-sleeve, as she saw the rapture of Jillover the new work and the promised pleasure.
　　Joyful cries greeted the opening of the box, for bunches ofsplendid large bugles appeared in all colors, and a lively discussionwent on as to the best contrasts. Jill could not refuse to let herfriends share the pretty work, and soon three necklaces glittered onthree necks, as each admired her own choice.
　　"I'd be willing to hurt my back dreadfully, if I could lie and dosuch lovely things all day," said Merry, as she reluctantly put downher needle at last, for home duties waited to be done, and lookedmore than ever distasteful after this new pleasure.
　　"So would I! Oh, do you think Mrs. Minot will let you fill thehorns when they are done? I'd love to help you then. Be sure yousend for me!" cried Molly Loo, arching her neck like a proudpigeon to watch the glitter of her purple and gold necklace on herbrown gown.
　　"I'm afraid you couldn't be trusted, you love sweeties so, and I msure Boo couldn't. But I'll see about it," replied Jill, with aresponsible air.
　　The mention of the boy recalled him to their minds, and lookinground they found him peacefully absorbed in polishing up the floorwith Molly's pocket-handkerchief and oil from the littlemachine-can. Being torn from this congenial labor, he was carriedoff shining with grease and roaring lustily.
　　But Jill did not mind her loneliness now, and sang like a happycanary while she threaded her sparkling beads, or hung the gayhorns to dry, ready f or their cargoes of sweets. So Mrs. Minot'srecipe for sunshine proved successful, and mother-wit made thewintry day a bright and happy one for both the little prisoners.
Chapter 5
SecretsThere were a great many clubs in Harmony Village, but as weintend to interest ourselves with the affairs of the young folks only,we need not dwell upon the intellectual amusements of the elders.
　　In summer, the boys devoted themselves to baseball, the girls toboating, and all got rosy, stout, and strong, in these healthfulexercises. In winter, the lads had their debating club, the lasses adramatic ditto. At the former, astonishing bursts of oratory wereheard; at the latter, everything was boldly attempted, from Romeoand Juliet to Mother Goose's immortal melodies. The two clubsfrequently met and mingled their attractions in a really entertainingmanner, for the speakers made good actors, and the youngactresses were most appreciative listeners to the eloquence of eachbudding Demosthenes.
　　Great plans had been afoot for Christmas or New Year, but whenthe grand catastrophe put an end to the career of one of the best"spouters," and caused the retirement of the favorite "singingchambermaid," the affair was postponed till February, whenWashington's birthday was always celebrated by the patriotic town,where the father of his country once put on his nightcap, or tookoff his boots, as that ubiquitous hero appears to have done in everypart of the United States.
　　Meantime the boys were studying Revolutionary characters, andthe girls rehearsing such dramatic scenes as they thought mostappropriate and effective for the 22d. In both of these attemptsthey were much helped by the sense and spirit of Ralph Evans, ayouth of nineteen, who was a great favorite with the young folks,not only because he was a good, industrious fellow, who supportedhis grandmother, but also full of talent, fun, and ingenuity. It wasno wonder everyone who really knew him liked him, for he couldturn his hand to anything, and loved to do it. If the girls were indespair about a fire-place when acting "The Cricket on theHearth," he painted one, and put a gas-log in it that made the kettlereally boil, to their great delight. If the boys found the interest oftheir club flagging, Ralph would convulse them by imitations ofthe "Member from Cranberry Centre," or fire them with speechesof famous statesmen. Charity fairs could not get on without him,and in the store where he worked he did many an ingenious job,which made him valued for his mechanical skill, as well as for hisenergy and integrity.
　　Mrs. Minot liked to have him with her sons, because they alsowere to paddle their own canoes by and by, and she believed that,rich or poor, boys make better men for learning to use the talentsthey possess, not merely as ornaments, but tools with which tocarve their own fortunes; and the best help toward this end is anexample of faithful work, high aims, and honest living. So Ralphcame often, and in times of trouble was a real rainy-day friend.
　　Jack grew very fond of him during his imprisonment, for the goodyouth ran in every evening to get commissions, amuse the boy withdroll accounts of the day's adventures, or invent lifts, bed-tables,and foot-rests for the impatient invalid. Frank found him a sureguide through the mechanical mysteries which he loved, and spentmany a useful half-hour discussing cylinders, pistons, valves, andbalance-wheels. Jill also came in for her share of care and comfort;the poor little back lay all the easier for the air-cushion Ralph gother, and the weary headaches found relief from the spray atomizer,which softly distilled its scented dew on the hot forehead till shefell asleep.
　　Round the beds of Jack and Jill met and mingled the schoolmatesof whom our story treats. Never, probably, did invalids have gayertimes than our two, after a week of solitary confinement; forschool gossip crept in, games could not be prevented, andChristmas secrets were concocted in those rooms till they wereregular conspirators dens, when they were not little Bedlams.
　　After the horn and bead labors were over, the stringing of pop-cornon red, and cranberries on white, threads, came next, and Jack andJill often looked like a new kind of spider in the pretty webs hungabout them, till reeled off to bide their time in the Christmascloset. Paper flowers followed, and gay garlands and bouquetsblossomed, regardless of the snow and frost without. Then therewas a great scribbling of names, verses, and notes to accompanythe steadily increasing store of odd parcels which were collected atthe Minots', for gifts from everyone were to ornament the tree, andcontributions poured in as the day drew near.
　　But the secret which most excited the young people was the deepmystery of certain proceedings at the Minot house. No one butFrank, Ralph, and Mamma knew what it was, and the two boysnearly drove the others distracted by the tantalizing way in whichthey hinted at joys to come, talked strangely about birds, wentmeasuring round with foot-rules, and shut themselves up in theBoys Den, as a certain large room was called. This seemed to bethe centre of operations, but beyond the fact of the promised treeno ray of light was permitted to pass the jealously guarded doors,Strange men with paste-pots and ladders went in, furniture wasdragged about, and all sorts of boyish lumber was sent up garretand down cellar. Mrs. Minot was seen pondering over heaps ofgreen stuff, hammering was heard, singular bundles weresmuggled upstairs, flowering plants betrayed their presence bywhiffs of fragrance when the door was opened, and Mrs. Pecq wascaught smiling all by herself in a back bedroom, which usually wasshut up in winter.
　　"They are going to have a play, after all, and that green stuff wasthe curtain," said Molly Loo, as the girls talked it over one day,when they sat with their backs turned to one another, putting laststitches in certain bits of work which had to be concealed from alleyes, though it was found convenient to ask one another's taste asto the color, materials, and sizes of these mysterious articles.
　　"I think it is going to be a dance. I heard the boys doing their stepswhen I went in last evening to find out whether Jack liked blue oryellow best, so I could put the bow on his pen-wiper," declaredMerry, knitting briskly away at the last of the pair of pretty whitebed-socks she was making for Jill right under her inquisitive littlenose.
　　"They wouldn't have a party of that kind without Jack and me. It isonly an extra nice tree, you see if it isn't," answered Jill frombehind the pillows which made a temporary screen to hide thetoilet mats she was preparing for all her friends.
　　"Everyone of you is wrong, and you d better rest easy, for youwon't find out the best part of it, try as you may." And Mrs. Pecqactually chuckled as she, too, worked away at some bits of muslin,with her back turned to the very unsocial-looking group.
　　"Well, I don't care, we ve got a secret all our own, and won't evertell, will we?" cried Jill, falling back on the Home MissionarySociety, though it was not yet begun.
　　"Never!" answered the girls, and all took great comfort in the ideathat one mystery would not be cleared up, even at Christmas.
　　Jack gave up guessing, in despair, after he had suggested a newdining-room where he could eat with the family, a private schoolin which his lessons might go on with a tutor, or a theatre for theproduction of the farces in which he delighted.
　　"It is going to be used to keep something in that you are very fondof," said Mamma, taking pity on him at last.
　　"Ducks?" asked Jack, with a half pleased, half puzzled air, notquite seeing where the water was to come from.
　　Frank exploded at the idea, and added to the mystification bysaying,"There will be one little duck and one great donkey in it." Then,fearing he had told the secret, he ran off, quacking and brayingderisively.
　　"It is to be used for creatures that I, too, am fond of, and you knowneither donkeys nor ducks are favorities of mine," said Mamma,with a demure expression, as she sat turning over old clothes forthe bundles that always went to poor neighbors, with a little storeof goodies, at this time of the year.
　　"I know! I know! It is to be a new ward for more sick folks, isn't it,now?" cried Jack, with what he thought a great proof ofshrewdness.
　　"I don't see how I could attend to many more patients till this oneis off my hands," answered Mamma, with a queer smile, addingquickly, as if she too was afraid of letting the cat out of the bag:
　　"That reminds me of a Christmas I once spent among the hospitalsand poor-houses of a great city with a good lady who, for thirtyyears, had made it her mission to see that these poor little soulshad one merry day. We gave away two hundred dolls, several greatboxes of candy and toys, besides gay pictures, and new clothes toorphan children, sick babies, and half-grown innocents. Ah, myboy, that was a day to remember all my life, to make me doublygrateful for my blessings, and very glad to serve the helpless andafflicted, as that dear woman did."The look and tone with which the last words were utteredeffectually turned Jack's thoughts from the great secret, and startedanother small one, for he fell to planning what he would buy withhis pocket-money to surprise the little Pats and Biddies who wereto have no Christmas tree.
Chapter 6
Surprises"Is it pleasant?" was the question Jill asked before she was fairlyawake on Christmas morning.
　　"Yes, dear; as bright as heart could wish. Now eat a bit, and thenI'll make you nice for the day's pleasure. I only hope it won't be toomuch for you," answered Mrs. Pecq, bustling about, happy, yetanxious, for Jill was to be carried over to Mrs. Minot s, and it washer first attempt at going out since the accident.
　　It seemed as if nine o clock would never come, and Jill, withwraps all ready, lay waiting in a fever of impatience for thedoctor's visit, as he wished to superintend the moving. At last hecame, found all promising, and having bundled up his smallpatient, carried her, with Frank's help, in her chair-bed to theox-sled, which was drawn to the next door, and Miss Jill landed inthe Boys Den before she had time to get either cold or tired. Mrs.
　　Minot took her things off with a cordial welcome, but Jill neversaid a word, for, after one exclamation, she lay staring about her,dumb with surprise and delight at what she saw.
　　The great room was entirely changed; for now it looked like agarden, or one of the fairy scenes children love, where in-doorsand out-of-doors are pleasantly combined. The ceiling was paleblue, like the sky; the walls were covered with a paper like a rustictrellis, up which climbed morning-glories so naturally that themany-colored bells seemed dancing in the wind. Birds andbutterflies flew among them, and here and there, through arches inthe trellis, one seemed to look into a sunny summer world,contrasting curiously with the wintry landscape lying beyond thereal windows, festooned with evergreen garlands, and curtainedonly by stands of living flowers. A green drugget covered the floorlike grass, rustic chairs from the garden stood about, and in themiddle of the room a handsome hemlock waited for its prettyburden. A Yule-log blazed on the wide hearth, and over thechimney-piece, framed in holly, shone the words that set all heartsto dancing, "Merry Christmas!""Do you like it, dear? This is our surprise for you and Jack, andhere we mean to have good times together," said Mrs. Minot, whohad stood quietly enjoying the effect of her work.
　　"Oh, it is so lovely I don't know what to say!" and Jill put up botharms, as words failed her, and grateful kisses were all she had tooffer.
　　"Can you suggest anything more to add to the pleasantness?" askedthe gentle lady, holding the small hands in her own, and feelingwell repaid by the child's delight.
　　"Only Jack"; and Jill's laugh was good to hear, as she glanced upwith merry, yet wistful eyes.
　　"You are right. We'll have him in at once, or he will come hoppingon one leg"; and away hurried his mother, laughing, too, forwhistles, shouts, thumps, and violent demonstrations of all kindshad been heard from the room where Jack was raging withimpatience, while he waited for his share of the surprise.
　　Jill could hardly lie still when she heard the roll of anotherchair-bed coming down the hail, its passage enlivened with cries of"Starboard! Port! Easy now! Pull away!" from Ralph and Frank, asthey steered the recumbent Columbus on his first voyage ofdiscovery.
　　"Well, I call that handsome!" was Jack's exclamation, when thefull beauty of the scene burst upon his view. Then he forgot allabout it and gave a whoop of pleasure, for there beside the fire wasan eager face, two hands beckoning, and Jill's voice crying,joyfully.
　　"I'm here! I'm here! Oh, do come, quick!" Down the long roomrattled the chair, Jack cheering all the way, and brought up besidethe other one, as the long-parted friends exclaimed, with oneaccord,"Isn't this jolly!"It certainly did look so, for Ralph and Frank danced a wild sort offandango round the tree, Dr. Whiting stood and laughed, while thetwo mothers beamed from the door-way, and the children, notknowing whether to laugh or to cry, compromised the matter byclapping their hands and shouting, "Merry Christmas toeverybody!" like a pair of little maniacs.
　　Then they all sobered down, and the busy ones went off to thevarious duties of the day, leaving the young invalids to repose andenjoy themselves together.
　　"How nice you look," said Jill, when they had duly admired thepretty room.
　　"So do you," gallantly returned Jack, as he surveyed her withunusual interest.
　　They did look very nice, though happiness was the principalbeautifier. Jill wore a red wrapper, with the most brilliant of all thenecklaces sparkling at her throat, over a nicely crimped frill hermother had made in honor of the day. All the curly black hair wasgathered into a red net, and a pair of smart little moccasinscovered the feet that had not stepped for many a weary day. Jackwas not so gay, but had made himself as fine as circumstanceswould permit. A gray dressing-gown, with blue cuffs and collar,was very becoming to the blonde youth; an immaculate shirt, beststuds, sleeve-buttons, blue tie, and handkerchief wet with colognesticking out of the breast-pocket, gave an air of elegance in spite ofthe afghan spread over the lower portions of his manly form. Theyellow hair was brushed till it shone, and being parted in themiddle, to hide the black patch, made two engaging little "quiris"on his forehead. The summer tan had faded from his cheeks, buthis eyes were as blue as the wintry sky, and nearly every whitetooth was visible as he smiled on his partner in misfortune, sayingcheerily.
　　"I'm ever so glad to see you again; guess we are over the worst ofit now, and can have good times. Won't it be fun to stay here allthe while, and amuse one another?""Yes, indeed; but one day is so short! It will be stupider than everwhen I go home to-night," answered Jill, looking about her withlonging eyes.
　　"But you are not going home to-night; you are to stay ever so long.
　　Didn't Mamma tell you?""No. Oh, how splendid! Am I really? Where will I sleep? Whatwill Mammy do without me?" and Jill almost sat up, she was sodelighted with the new surprise.
　　"That room in there is all fixed for you. I made Frank tell me somuch. Mamma said I might tell you, but I'd idn't think she wouldbe able to hold in if she saw you first. Your mother is coming, too,and we are all going to have larks together till we areThe splendor of this arrangement took Jill's breath away, andbefore she got it again, in came Frank and Ralph with twoclothes-baskets of treasures to be hung upon the tree. While theywired on the candles the children asked questions, and found outall they wanted to know about the new plans and pleasures.
　　'Who fixed all this?""Mamma thought of it, and Ralph and I'd id it. He's the man forthissort of thing, you know. He proposed cutting out the arches andsticking on birds and butterflies just where they looked best. I putthose canaries over there, they looked so well against the blue";and Frank proudly pointed out some queer orange-colored fowls,looking as if they were having fits in the air, but very effective,nevertheless.
　　"Your mother said you might call this the Bird Room. We caught ascarlet-tanager for you to begin with, didn't we, Jack?" and Ralphthrew a hon-hon at Jill, who looked very like a bright little bird ina warm nest.
　　"Good for you! Yes, and we are going to keep her in this prettycage till we can both fly off together. I say, Jill, where shall we bein our classes when we do get back?" and Jack's merry face fell atthe thought.
　　"At the foot, if we don't study and keep up. Doctor said I mightstudy sometimes, if I'd lie still as long as he thought best, andMolly brought home my books, and Merry says she will come inevery day and tell me where the lessons are. I don't mean to fallbehind, if my backbone is cracked," said Jill, with a decided nodthat made several black rings fly out of the net to dance on herforehead.
　　"Frank said he d pull me along in my Latin, but I've been lazy andhaven't done a thing. Let's go at it and start fair for New Year,"proposed Jack, who did not love study as the bright girl did, butwas ashamed to fall behind her in anything.
　　"All right. They ve been reviewing, so we can keep up when theybegin, if we work next week, while the rest have a holiday. Oh,dear, I do miss school dreadfully"; and Jill sighed for the old desk,every blot and notch of which was dear to her.
　　"There come our things, and pretty nice they look, too," said Jack;and his mother began to dress the tree, hanging up the gay horns,the gilded nuts, red and yellow apples and oranges, and festooninglong strings of pop-corn and scarlet cranberries from bough tobough, with the glittering necklaces hung where the light wouldshow their colors best.
　　"I never saw such a splendid tree before. I'm glad we could help,though we were ill. Is it all done now?" asked Jill, when the lastparcel was tied on and everybody stood back to admire the prettysight.
　　"One thing more. Hand me that box, Frank, and be very carefulthat you fasten this up firmly, Ralph," answered Mrs. Minot, as shetook from its wrappings the waxen figure of a little child. The rosylimbs were very life-like, so was the smiling face under the locksof shining hair. Both plump arms were outspread as if to scatterblessings over all, and downy wings seemed to flutter from thedimpled shoulders, making an angel of the baby.
　　"Is it St. Nicholas?" asked Jill, who had never seen that famouspersonage, and knew but little of Christmas festivities.
　　"It is the Christ-child, whose birthday we are celebrating. I got thebest I could find, for I like the idea better than old Santa Claus;though we may have him, too," said Mamma, holding the littleimage so that both could see it well.
　　"It looks like a real baby"; and Jack touched the rosy foot with thetip of his finger, as if expecting a crow from the half-open lips.
　　"It reminds me of the saints in the chapel of the Sacred Heart inMontreal. One little St. John looked like this, only he had a lambinstead of wings," said Jill, stroking the flaxen hair, and wishingshe dared ask for it to play with.
　　"He is the children's saint to pray to, love, and imitate, for he neverforgot them, but blessed and healed and taught them all his life.
　　This is only a poor image of the holiest baby ever born, but I hopeit will keep his memory in your minds all day, because this is theday for good resolutions, happy thoughts, and humble prayers, aswell as play and gifts and feasting."While she spoke, Mrs. Minot, touching the little figure as tenderlyas if it were alive, had tied a broad white ribbon round it, and,handing it to Ralph, bade him fasten it to the hook above thetree-top, where it seemed to float as if the downy wings supportedit.
　　Jack and Jill lay silently watching, with a sweet sort of sobernessin their young faces, and for a moment the room was very still asall eyes looked up at the Blessed Child. The sunshine seemed togrow more golden as it flickered on the little head, the flamesglanced about the glittering tree as if trying to climb and kiss thebaby feet, and, without, a chime of bells rang sweetly, callingpeople to hear again the lovely story of the life begun onChristinus Day.
　　Only a minute, but it did them good, and presently, when thepleasant work was over, and the workers gone, the boys to church,and Mamma to see about lunch for the invalids, Jack said, gravcly,to Jill,"I think we ought to be extra good, everyone is so kind to us, andwe are getting well, and going to have such capital times. Don't seehow we can do anything else to show we are grateful.""It isn't easy to be good when one is sick," said Jill, thoughtfully. "Ifret dreadfully, I get so tired of being still. I want to screamsometimes, but I don't, because it would scare Mammy, so I cry.
　　Do you cry, Jack?""Men never do. I want to tramp round when things bother me; but Ican t, so I kick and say, 'Hang it! and when I get very bad I pitchinto Frank, arid he lets me. I tell you, Jill, he's a good brother!" andJack privately resolved then and there to invite Frank to take it outof him in any form he pleased as soon as health would permit.
　　"I rather think we shall grow good in this pretty place, for I don'tsee how we can be bad if we want to, it is all so nice and sort ofpious here," said Jill, with her eyes on the angel over the tree.
　　"A fellow can be awfully hungry, I know that. I didn't half eatbreakfast, I was in such a hurry to see you, and know all about thesecrets. Frank kept saying I couldn't guess, that you had come,Jack and Jill lay silently watching, with a sweet sort of sobernessin their young faces, and for a moment the room was very still asall eyes looked up at the Blessed Child. The sunshine seemed togrow more golden as it flickered on the little head, the flamesglanced about the glittering tree as if trying to climb and kiss thebaby feet, and, without, a chime of bells rang sweetly, callingpeople to hear again the lovely story of the life begun on ChristmasDay.
　　Only a minute, but it did them good, and presently, when thepleasant work was over, and the workers gone, the boys to church,and Mamma to see about lunch for the invalids, Jack said, gravely,to Jill.
　　"I think we ought to be extra good, everyone is so kind to us, andwe are getting well, and going to have such capital times. Don't seehow we can do anything else to show we are grateful.""It isn't easy to be good when one is sick," said Jill, thoughtfully. "Ifret dreadfully, I get so tired of being still. I want to screamsometimes, but I don't, because it would scare Mammy, so I cry.
　　Do you cry, Jack?""Men never do. I want to tramp round when things bother me; but Ican t, so I kick and say, 'Hang it! and when I get very bad I pitchinto Frank, and he lets me. I tell you, Jill, he's a good brother!" andJack privately resolved then and there to invite Frank to take it outof him in any form he pleased as soon as health would permit.
　　"I rather think we shall grow good in this pretty place, for I don'tsee how we can be bad if we want to, it is all so nice and sort ofpious here," said Jill, with her eyes on the angel over the tree.
　　"A fellow can be awfully hungry, I know that. I'd idn't half eatbreakfast, I was in such a hurry to see you, and know all about thesecrets. Frank kept saying I couldn't guess, that you had come,and I never would be ready, till finally I got mad and fired an eggat him, and made no end of a mess."Jack and Jill went off into a gale of laughter at the idea ofdignified Frank dodging the egg that smashed on the wall, leavingan indelible mark of Jack's besetting sin, impatience.
　　Just then Mrs. Minot came in, well pleased to hear such pleasantsounds, and to see two merry faces, where usually one listless onemet her anxious eyes.
　　"The new medicine works well, neighbor," she said to Mrs. Pecq,who followed with the lunch tray.
　　"Indeed it does, mem. I feel as if I'd taken a sup myself, I'm thateasy in my mind."And she looked so, too, for she seemed to have left all her cares inthe little house when she locked the door behind her, and nowstood smiling with a clean apron on, so fresh and cheerful, that Jillhardly knew her own mother.
　　"Things taste better when you have someone to eat with you,"observed Jack, as they'd evoured sandwiches, and drank milk outof little mugs with rosebuds on them.
　　"Don't eat too much, or you won't be ready for the next surprise,"said his mother, when the plates were empty, and the last dropgone down throats dry with much chatter.
　　"More surprises! Oh, what fun!" cried Jill. And all the rest of themorning, in the intervals of talk and play, they tried to guess whatit could be.
　　At two o clock they found out, for dinner was served in the BirdRoom, and the children revelled in the simple feast prepared forthem. The two mothers kept the little bed-tables well supplied, andfed their nurslings like maternal birds, while Frank presided overthe feast with great dignity, and ate a dinner which would haveastonished Mamma, if she had not been too busy to observe howfast the mince pie vanished.
　　"The girls said Christmas was spoiled because of us; but I don'tthink so, and they won't either, when they see this splendid placeand know all about our nice plans," said Jill, luxuriously eating thenut-meats Jack picked out f or her, as they lay in Eastern style atthe festive board.
　　"I call this broken bones made easy. I never had a better Christmas.
　　Have a raisin? Here's a good fat one." And Jack made a long armto Jill's mouth, which began to sing "Little Jack Homer" as anappropriate return.
　　"It would have been a lonesome one to all of us, I'm thinking, butfor your mother, boys. My duty and hearty thanks to you, mem,"put in grateful Mrs. Pecq, bowing over her coffee-cup as she hadseen ladies bow over their wine-glasses at dinner parties in OldEngland.
　　"I rise to propose a health, Our Mothers." And Frank stood up witha goblet of water, for not even at Christmas time was wine seen onthat table.
　　"Hip, hip, hurrah!" called Jack, baptizing himself with a goodsprinkle, as he waved his glass and drank the toast with a look thatmade his mother's eyes fill with happy tears.
　　Jill threw her mother a kiss, feeling very grown up and elegant tobe dining out in such style. Then they'd rank everyone's healthwith much merriment, till Frank declared that Jack would float offon the deluge of water he splashed about in his enthusiasm, andMamma proposed a rest after the merry-making.
　　"Now the best fun is coming, and we have not long to wait," saidthe boy, when naps and rides about the room had whiled away thebrief interval between dinner and dusk, for the eveningentertainment was to be an early one, to suit the invalids bedtime.
　　"I hope the girls will like their things. I helped to choose them, andeach has a nice present. I don't know mine, though, and I'm in atwitter to see it," said Jill, as they lay waiting for the fun to begin.
　　"I do; I chose it, so I know you will like one of them, anyway.""Have I got more than one?""I guess you'll think so when they are handed down. The bell wasgoing all day yesterday, and the girls kept bringing in bundles foryou; I see seven now," and Jack rolled his eyes from onemysterious parcel to another hanging on the laden boughs.
　　"I know something, too. That square bundle is what you want everso much. I told Frank, and he got it for his present. It is all red andgold outside, and every sort of color inside; you'll hurrah whenyou see it. That roundish one is yours too; I made them," cried Jill,pointing to a flat package tied to the stem of the tree, and a neatlittle roll in which were the blue mittens that she had knit for him.
　　"I can wait"; but the boy's eyes shone with eagerness, and he couldnot resist firing two or three pop-corns at it to see whether it washard or soft.
　　"That barking dog is for Boo, and the little yellow sled, so Mollycan drag him to school, he always tumbles down so when it isslippery," continued Jill, proud of her superior knowledge, as sheshowed a small spotted animal hanging by its tail, with a redtongue displayed as if about to taste the sweeties in the hornbelow.
　　"Don't talk about sleds, for mercy's sake! I never want to seeanother, and you wouldn't, either, if you had to lie with a flat-irontied to your ankle, as I do," said Jack, with a kick of the well legand an ireful glance at the weight attached to the other that itmight not contract while healing.
　　"Well, I think plasters, and liniment, and rubbing, as bad asflat-irons any day. I don't believe you have ached half so much as Ihave, though it sounds worse to break legs than to sprain yourback," protested Jill, eager to prove herself the greater sufferer, asinvalids are apt to be.
　　"I guess you wouldn't think so if you d been pulled round as Iwas when they set my leg. Caesar, how it did hurt!" and Jacksquirmed at the recollection of it.
　　"You didn't faint away as I'd id when the doctor was finding out ifmy vertebrums were hurt, so now!" cried Jill, bound to carry herpoint, though not at all clear what vertebrae were.
　　"Pooh! Girls always faint. Men are braver, and I didn't faint a bitin spite of all that horrid agony.""You howled; Frank told me so. Doctor said I was a brave girl, soyou needn't brag, for you'll have to go on a crutch for a while. Iknow that.""You may have to use two of them for years, maybe. I heard thedoctor tell my mother so. I shall be up and about long before youwill. Now then!"Both children were getting excited, for the various pleasures of theday had been rather too much for them, and there is no knowingbut they would have added the sad surprise of a quarrel to thepleasant ones of the day, if a cheerful whistle had not been heard,as Ralph came in to light the candles and give the last artistictouches to the room.
　　"Well, young folks, how goes it? Had a merry time so far?" heasked, as he fixed the steps and ran up with a lighted match in hishand.
　　"Very nice, thank you," answered a prim little voice from the duskbelow, for only the glow of the fire filled the room just then.
　　Jack said nothing, and two red sulky faces were hidden in the dark,watching candle after candle sputter, brighten, and twinkle, till thetrembling shadows began to flit away like imps afraid of the light.
　　"Now he will see my face, and I know it is cross," thought Jill, asRalph went round the last circle, leaving another line of sparksamong the hemlock boughs.
　　Jack thought the same, and had just got the frown smoothed out ofhis forehead, when Frank brought a fresh log, and a glorious blazesprung up, filling every corner of the room, and dancing over thefigures in the long chairs till they had to brighten whether theyliked it or not. Presently the bell began to ring and gay voices tosound below: then Jill smiled in spite of herself as Molly Loo'susual cry of "Oh, dear, where is that child?" reached her, and Jackcould not help keeping time to the march Ed played, while Frankand Gus marshalled the procession.
　　"Ready!" cried Mrs. Minot, at last, and up came the troop of eagerlads and lasses, brave in holiday suits, with faces to match. Aunanimous "0, o, o!" burst from twenty tongues, as the fullsplendor of the tree, the room, and its inmates, dawned upon them;for not only did the pretty Christ-child hover above, but SantaClaus himself stood below, fur-clad, white-bearded, and powderedwith snow from the dredging-box.
　　Ralph was a good actor, and, when the first raptures were over hedistributed the presents with such droll speeches, jokes, andgambols, that the room rang with merriment, and passers-bypaused to listen, sure that here, at least, Christmas was merry. Itwould be impossible to tell about all the gifts or the joy of thereceivers, but everyone was satisfied, and the king and queen ofthe revels so overwhelmed with little tokens of good-will, thattheir beds looked like booths at a fair. Jack beamed over thehandsome postage-stamp book which had long been the desire ofhis heart, and Jill felt like a millionaire, with a silver fruit-knife, apretty work-basket, and oh! coals of fire on her head a ring fromJack.
　　A simple little thing enough, with one tiny turquoise forget-me-not, but something like a dew-drop fell on it when no one waslooking, and she longed to say, "I'm sorry I was cross; forgive me,Jack." But it could not be done then, so she turned to admireMerry's bed-shoes, the pots of pansies, hyacinths, and geraniumwhich Gus and his sisters sent for her window garden, Molly'squeer Christmas pie, and the zither Ed promised to teach her howto play upon.
　　The tree was soon stripped, and pop-corns strewed the floor as thechildren stood about picking them off the red threads when candygave out, with an occasional cranberry by way of relish. Booinsisted on trying the new sled at once, and enlivened the trip bythe squeaking of the spotted dog, the toot of a tin trumpet, andshouts of joy at the splendor of the turn-out.
　　The girls all put on their necklaces, and danced about like fineladies at a ball. The boys fell to comparing skates, balls, andcuff-buttons on the spot, while the little ones devoted all theirenergies to eating everything eatable they could lay their hands on.
　　Games were played till nine o clock, and then the party broke up,after they had taken hands round the tree and sung a song writtenby one whom you all know so faithfully and beautifully does shelove and labor for children the world over.
　　THE BLESSED DAY"What shall little children bringOn Christmas Day, on Christmas Day?
　　What shall little children bringOn Christmas Day in the morning?
　　This shall little children bringOn Christmas Day, on Christmas Day;Love and joy to Christ their king,On Christmas Day in the morning!
　　"What shall little children singOn Christmas Day, on Christmas Day?
　　What shall little children singOn Christmas Day in the morning?
　　The grand old carols shall they singOn Christmas Day, on Christmas Day;With all their hearts, their offerings bringOn Christmas Day in the morning."Jack was carried off to bed in such haste that he had only time tocall out, "Good-night!" before he was rolled away, gaping as hewent. Jill soon found herself tucked up in the great white bed shewas to share with her mother, and lay looking about the pleasantchamber, while Mrs. Pecq ran home for a minute to see that allwas safe there for the night.
　　After the merry din the house seemed very still, with only a lightstep now and then, the murmur of voices not far away, or the jingleof sleigh-bells from without, and the little girl rested easily amongthe pillows, thinking over the pleasures of the day, too wide-awakefor sleep. There was no lamp in the chamber, but she could lookinto the pretty Bird Room, where the fire-light still shone onflowery walls, deserted tree, and Christ-child floating above thegreen. Jill's eyes wandered there and lingered till they were full ofregretful tears, because the sight of the little angel recalled thewords spoken when it was hung up, the good resolution she hadtaken then, and how soon it was broken.
　　"I said I couldn't be bad in that lovely place, and I was a cross,ungrateful girl after all they ve done for Mammy and me. PoorJack was hurt the worst, and he was brave, though he did scream.
　　I wish I could go and tell him so, and hear him say, 'All right. Oh,me, I've spoiled the day!"A great sob choked more words, and Jill was about to have acomfortable cry, when someone entered the other room, and shesaw Frank doing something with a long cord and a thing thatlooked like a tiny drum. Quiet as a bright-eyed mouse, Jill peepedout wondering what it was, and suspecting mischief, for the boywas laughing to himself as he stretched the cord, and now and thenbent over the little object in his hand, touching it with great care.
　　"Maybe it's a torpedo to blow up and scare me; Jack likes to playtricks. Well, I'll scream loud when it goes off, so he will besatisfied that I'm dreadfully frightened," thought Jill, littledreaming what the last surprise of the day was to be.
　　Presently a voice whispered,Are you awake?""Yes.""Anyone there but you?""Catch this, then. Hold it to your ear and see what you'll get."The little drum came flying in, and, catching it, Jill, with somehesitation, obeyed Frank's order. Judge of her amazement whenshe caught in broken whispers these touching words:
　　"Sorry I was cross. Forgive and forget. Start fair to-morrow. Allright. Jack."Jill was so delighted with this handsome apology, that she couldnot reply for a moment, then steadied her voice, and answeredback in her sweetest tone,"I'm sorry, too. Never, never, will again. Feel much better now.
　　Good-night, you dear old thing."Satisfied with the success of his telephone, Frank twitched backthe drum and vanished, leaving Jill to lay her cheek upon the handthat wore the little ring and fall asleep, saying to herself, with afarewell glance at the children's saint, dimly seen in the softgloom, "I will not forget. I will be good!"
Chapter 7
Jill's MissionThe good times began immediately, and very little studying wasdone that week in spite of the virtuous resolutions made by certainyoung persons on Christmas Day. But, dear me, how was itpossible to settle down to lessons in the delightful Bird Room,with not only its own charms to distract one, but all the new giftsto enjoy, and a dozen calls a day to occupy one's time?
　　"I guess we'd better wait till the others are at school, and just go infor fun this week," said Jack, who was in great spirits at theprospect of getting up, for the splints were off, and he hoped to bepromoted to crutches very soon.
　　"I shall keep my Speller by me and take a look at it every day, forthat is what I'm most backward in. But I intend to devote myself toyou, Jack, and be real kind and useful. I've made a plan to do it,and I mean to carry it out, anyway," answered Jill, who had begunto be a missionary, and felt that this was a field of labor where shecould distinguish herself.
　　"Here's a home mission all ready for you, and you can be payingyour debts beside doing yourself good," Mrs. Pecq said to her inprivate, having found plenty to do herself.
　　Now Jill made one great mistake at the outset--she forgot that shewas the one to be converted to good manners and gentleness, anddevoted her efforts to looking after Jack, finding it much easier tocure other people's faults than her own. Jack was a most engagingheathen, and needed very little instruction; therefore Jill thoughther task would be an easy one. But three or four weeks of pettingand play had rather demoralized both children, so Jill's Speller,though tucked under the sofa pillow every day, was seldom lookedat, and Jack shirked his Latin shamefully. Both read all thestory-books they could get, held daily levees in the Bird Room, andall their spare minutes were spent in teaching Snowdrop, the greatAngora cat, to bring the ball when they dropped it in their game.
　　So Saturday came, and both were rather the worse for so muchidleness, since daily duties and studies are the wholesome breadwhich feeds the mind better than the dyspeptic plum-cake ofsensational reading, or the unsubstantial bon-bons of frivolousamusement.
　　It was a stormy day, so they had few callers, and devotedthemselves to arranging the album; for these books were all therage just then, and boys met to compare, discuss, buy, sell, and"swap" stamps with as much interest as men on 'Change gamble instocks. Jack had a nice little collection, and had been saving uppocket-money to buy a book in which to preserve his treasures.
　　Now, thanks to Jill's timely suggestion, Frank had given him a fineone, and several friends had contributed a number of rare stampsto grace the large, inviting pages. Jill wielded the gum-brush andfitted on the little flaps, as her fingers were skilful at this nicework, and Jack put each stamp in its proper place with greatrustling of leaves and comparing of marks. Returning, after a briefabsence, Mrs. Minot beheld the countenances of the workersadorned with gay stamps, giving them a very curious appearance.
　　"My dears! what new play have you got now? Are you wildIndians? or letters that have gone round the world before findingthe right address?" she asked, laughing at the ridiculous sight, forboth were as sober as judges and deeply absorbed in some doubtfulspecimen.
　　"Oh, we just stuck them there to keep them safe; they get lost if weleave them lying round. It's very handy, for I can see in a minutewhat I want on Jill's face and she on mine, and put our fingers onthe right chap at once," answered Jack, adding, with an anxiousgaze at his friend's variegated countenance, "Where the dickens ismy New Granada? It's rare, and I wouldn't lose it for a dollar."'Why, there it is on your own nose. Don't you remember you put itthere because you said mine was not big enough to hold it?"laughed Jill, tweaking a large orange square off the round nose ofher neighbor, causing it to wrinkle up in a droll way, as the gummade the operation slightly painful.
　　"So I'd id, and gave you Little Bolivar on yours. Now I'll haveAlsace and Lorraine, 1870. There are seven of them, so hold stilland see how you like it," returned Jack, picking the large, palestamps one by one from Jill's forehead, which they crossed like aband.
　　She bore it without flinching, saying to herself with a secret smile,as she glanced at the hot fire, which scorched her if she kept nearenough to Jack to help him, "This really is being like a missionary,with a tattooed savage to look after. I have to suffer a little, as thegood folks did who got speared and roasted sometimes; but I won'tcomplain a bit, though my forehead smarts, my arms are tired, andone cheek is as red as fire.""The Roman States make a handsome page, don't they?" askedJack, little dreaming of the part he was playing in Jill's mind. "Oh,I say, isn't Corea a beauty? I'm ever so proud of that"; and he gazedfondly on a big blue stamp, the sole ornament of one page.
　　"I don't see why the Cape of Good Hope has pyramids. They oughtto go in Egypt. The Sandwich Islands are all right, withheads of the black kings and queens on them," said Jill, feelingthat they were very appropriate to her private play.
　　"Turkey has crescents, Australia swans, and Spain women's heads,with black bars across them. Frank says it is because they keepwomen shut up so; but that was only his fun. I'd rather have agood, honest green United States, with Washington on it, or a blueone-center with old Franklin, than all their eagles and lions andkings and queens put together," added the democratic boy, with adisrespectful slap on a crowned head as he settled Heligoland in itsplace.
　　"Why does Austria have Mercury on the stamp, I wonder? Do theywear helmets like that?" asked Jill, with the brush-handle in hermouth as she cut a fresh batch of flaps.
　　"Maybe he was postman to the gods, so he is put on stamps now.
　　The Prussians wear helmets, but they have spikes like the oldRoman fellows. I like Prussians ever so much; they fightsplendidly, and always beat. Austrians have a handsome uniform,though.""Talking of Romans reminds me that I have not heard your Latinfor two days. Come, lazybones, brace up, and let us have it now.
　　I've done my compo, and shall have just time before I go out for atramp with Gus," said Frank, putting by a neat page to dry, for hestudied every day like a conscientious lad as he was.
　　"Don't know it. Not going to try till next week. Grind away overyour old Greek as much as you like, but don't bother me,"answered Jack, frowning at the mere thought of the detestedlesson.
　　But Frank adored his Xenophon, and would not see his old friend,Caesar, neglected without an effort to defend him; so heconfiscated the gum-pot, and effectually stopped the stampbusiness by whisking away at one fell swoop all that lay on Jill'stable.
　　"Now then, young man, you will quit this sort of nonsense and doyour lesson, or you won't see these fellows again in a hurry. Youasked me to hear you, and I'm going to do it; here's the book."Frank's tone was the dictatorial one, which Jack hated and alwaysfound hard to obey, especially when he knew he ought to do it.
　　Usually, when his patience was tried, he strode about the room, orran off for a race round the garden, coming back breathless, butgood-tempered. Now both these vents for irritation were deniedhim, and he had fallen into the way of throwing things about in apet. He longed to send Caesar to perpetual banishment in the fireblazing close by, but resisted the temptation, and answeredhonestly, though gruffly: "I know I'd id, but I don't see any use inpouncing on a fellow when he isn't ready. I haven't got my lesson,and don't mean to worry about it; so you may just give me back mythings and go about your business.""I'll give you back a stamp for every perfect lesson you get, andyou won't see them on any other terms"; and, thrusting thetreasures into his pocket, Frank caught up his rubber boots, andwent off swinging them like a pair of clubs, feeling that he wouldgive a trifle to be able to use them on his lazy brother.
　　At this high-handed proceeding, and the threat which accompaniedit, Jack's patience gave out, and catching up Caesar, as he thought,sent him flying after the retreating tyrant with the defiantdeclaration,"Keep them, then, and your old book, too! I won't look at it till yougive all my stamps back and say you are sorry. So now!"It was all over before Mamma could interfere, or Jill do more thanclutch and cling to the gum-brush. Frank vanished unharmed, butthe poor book dashed against the wall to fall half open on thefloor, its gay cover loosened, and its smooth leaves crushed by theblow.
　　"It's the album! O Jack, how could you?" cried Jill, dismayed atsight of the precious book so maltreated by the owner.
　　"Thought it was the other. Guess it isn't hurt much. Didn't mean tohit him, anyway. He does provoke me so," muttered Jack, very redand shamefaced as his mother picked up the book and laid itsilently on the table before him. He did not know what to do withhimself, and was thankful for the stamps still left him, findinggreat relief in making faces as he plucked them one by one fromhis mortified countenance. Jill looked on, half glad, half sorry thather savage showed such signs of unconverted ferocity, and Mrs.
　　Minot went on writing letters, wearing the grave look her sonsfound harder to bear than another person's scolding. No one spokefor a moment, and the silence was becoming awkward when Gusappeared in a rubber suit, bringing a book to Jack from Laura anda note to Jill from Lotty.
　　"Look here, you just trundle me into my den, please, I'm going tohave a nap, it's so dull to-day I don't feel like doing much," saidJack, when Gus had done his errands, trying to look as if he knewnothing about the fracas.
　　Jack folded his arms and departed like a warrior borne from thebattle-field, to be chaffed unmercifully for a "pepper-pot," whileGus made him comfortable in his own room.
　　"I heard once of a boy who threw a fork at his brother and put hiseye out. But he didn't mean to, and the brother forgave him, and henever did so any more," observed Jill, in a pensive tone, wishing toshow that she felt all the dangers of impatience, but was sorry forthe culprit.
　　"Did the boy ever forgive himself?" asked Mrs. Minot.
　　"No, 'm; I suppose not. But Jack didn't hit Frank, and feels realsorry, I know.""He might have, and hurt him very much. Our actions are in ourown hands, but the consequences of them are not. Remember that,my dear, and think twice before you do anything.""Yes, 'm, I will"; and Jill composed herself to consider whatmissionaries usually did when the natives hurled tomahawks andboomerangs at one another, and defied the rulers of the land.
　　Mrs. Minot wrote one page of a new letter, then stopped, pushedher papers about, thought a little, and finally got up, saying, as ifshe found it impossible to resist the yearning of her heart for thenaughty boy,"I am going to see if Jack is covered up, he is so helpless, andliable to take cold. Don't stir till I come back.""No, 'm, I won't."Away went the tender parent to find her son studying Caesar fordear life, and all the more amiable for the little gust which hadblown away the temporary irritability. The brothers were oftencalled "Thunder and Lightning," because Frank lowered andgrowled and was a good while clearing up, while Jack's tempercame and went like a flash, and the air was all the clearer for theescape of dangerous electricity. Of course Mamma had to stop anddeliver a little lecture, illustrated by sad tales of petulant boys, andpunctuated with kisses which took off the edge of these afflictingnarratives.
　　Jill meantime meditated morally on the superiority of her owngood temper over the hasty one of her dear playmate, and justwhen she was feeling unusually uplifted and secure, alas! like somany of us, she fell, in the most deplorable manner.
　　Glancing about the room for something to do, she saw a sheet ofpaper lying exactly out of reach, where it had fluttered from thetable unperceived. At first her eye rested on it as carelessly as itdid on the stray stamp Frank had dropped; then, as if one thingsuggested the other, she took it into her head that the paper wasFrank's composition, or, better still, a note to Annette, for the twocorresponded when absence or weather prevented the dailymeeting at school.
　　"Wouldn't it be fun to keep it till he gives back Jack's stamps? Itwould plague him so if it was a note, and I do believe it is, forcompo's don't begin with two words on one side. I'll get it, andJack and I will plan some way to pay him off, cross thing!"Forgetting her promise not to stir, also how dishonorable it was toread other people's letters, Jill caught up the long-handled hook,often in use now, and tried to pull the paper nearer. It would notcome at once, for a seam in the carpet held it, and Jill feared totear or crumple it if she was not very careful. The hook was ratherheavy and long for her to manage, and Jack usually did the fishing,so she was not very skilful; and just as she was giving aparticularly quick jerk, she lost her balance, fell off the sofa, anddropped the pole with a bang.
　　"Oh, my back!" was all she could think or say as she felt the jar allthrough her little body, and a corresponding fear in her guilty littlemind that someone would come and find out the double mischiefshe had been at. For a moment she lay quite still to recover fromthe shock, then as the pain passed she began to wonder how sheshould get back, and looked about her to see if she could do italone. She thought she could, as the sofa was near and she hadimproved so much that she could sit up a little if the doctor wouldhave let her. She was gathering herself together for the effort,when, within arm's reach now, she saw the tempting paper, andseized it with glee, for in spite of her predicament she did want totease Frank. A glance showed that it was not the composition nor anote, but the beginning of a letter from Mrs. Minot to her sister,and Jill was about to lay it down when her own name caught hereye, and she could not resist reading it. Hard words to write of oneso young, doubly hard to read, and impossible to forget.
　　"Dear Lizzie, Jack continues to do very well, and will soon be upagain. But we begin to fear that the little girl is permanentlyinjured in the back. She is here, and we do our best for her; but Inever look at her without thinking of Lucinda Snow, who, youremember, was bedridden for twenty years, owing to a fall atfifteen. Poor little Janey does not know yet, and I hope"-- There itended, and "poor little Janey's" punishment for disobedience beganthat instant. She thought she was getting well because she did notsuffer all the time, and everyone spoke cheerfully about "by andby." Now she knew the truth, and shut her eyes with a shiver as shesaid, low, to herself,"Twenty years! I couldn't bear it; oh, I couldn't bear it!"A very miserable Jill lay on the floor, and for a while did not carewho came and found her; then the last words of the letter-- "Ihope"--seemed to shine across the blackness of the dreadful"twenty years" and cheer her up a bit, for despair never lives longin young hearts, and Jill was a brave child.
　　"That is why Mammy sighs so when she dresses me, and everyoneis so good to me. Perhaps Mrs. Minot doesn't really know, after all.
　　She was dreadfully scared about Jack, and he is getting well. I'dlike to ask Doctor, but he might find Out about the letter. Oh, dear,why didn't I keep still and let the horrid thing alone!"As she thought that, Jill pushed the paper away, pulled herself up,and with much painful effort managed to get back to her sofa,where she laid herself down with a groan, feeling as if the twentyyears had already passed over her since she tumbled off.
　　"I've told a lie, for I said I wouldn't stir. I've hurt my back, I've donea mean thing, and I've got paid for it. A nice missionary I am; I'dbetter begin at home, as Mammy told me to"; and Jill groanedagain, remembering her mother's words. "Now I've got anothersecret to keep all alone, for I'd be ashamed to tell the girls. I guessI'll turn round and study my spelling; then no one will see myface."Jill looked the picture of a good, industrious child as she lay withher back to the large table, her book held so that nothing was to beseen but one cheek and a pair of lips moving busily. Fortunately, itis difficult for little sinners to act a part, and, even if the face ishidden, something in the body seems to betray the internal remorseand shame. Usually, Jill lay flat and still; now her back was bent ina peculiar way as she leaned over her book, and one foot waggednervously, while on the visible cheek was a Spanish stamp with awoman's face looking through the black bars, very suggestively, ifshe had known it. How long the minutes seemed till someonecame, and what a queer little jump her heart gave when Mrs.
　　Minot's voice said, cheerfully, "Jack is all right, and, I declare, sois Jill. I really believe there is a telegraph still working somewherebetween you two, and each knows what the other is about withoutwords.""I didn't have any other book handy, so I thought I'd study awhile,"answered Jill, feeling that she deserved no praise for her seemingindustry.
　　She cast a sidelong glance as she spoke, and seeing that Mrs.
　　Minot was looking for the letter, hid her face and lay so still shecould hear the rustle of the paper as it was taken from the floor. Itwas well she did not also see the quick look the lady gave her asshe turned the letter and found a red stamp sticking to the underside, for this unlucky little witness told the story.
　　Mrs. Minot remembered having seen the stamp lying close to thesofa when she left the room, for she had had half a mind to takeit to Jack, but did not, thinking Frank's plan had some advantages.
　　She also recollected that a paper flew off the table, but being inhaste she had not stopped to see what it was. Now, the stamp andthe letter could hardly have come together without hands, for theylay a yard apart, and here, also, on the unwritten portion of thepage, was the mark of a small green thumb. Jill had been windingwool for a stripe in her new afghan, and the green ball lay on hersofa. These signs suggested and confirmed what Mrs. Minot didnot want to believe; so did the voice, attitude, and air of Jill, allvery unlike her usual open, alert ways.
　　The kind lady could easily forgive the reading of her letter sincethe girl had found such sad news there, but the dangers ofdisobedience were serious in her case, and a glance showed thatshe was suffering either in mind or body--perhaps both.
　　"I will wait for her to tell me. She is an honest child, and the truthwill soon come out," thought Mrs. Minot, as she took a cleansheet, and Jill tried to study.
　　"Shall I hear your lesson, dear? Jack means to recite his like agood boy, so suppose you follow his example," she said, presently.
　　"I don't know as I can say it, but I'll try."Jill did try, and got on bravely till she came to the word"permanent"; there she hesitated, remembering where she saw itlast.
　　"Do you know what that means?" asked her teacher, thinking tohelp her on by defining the word.
　　"Always--for a great while--or something like that; doesn't it?"faltered Jill, with a tight feeling in her throat, and the color comingup, as she tried to speak easily, yet felt so shame-stricken she couldnot.
　　"Are you in pain, my child? Never mind the lesson; tell me, and I'lldo something for you."The kind words, the soft hand on her hot cheek, and the pity in theeyes that looked at her, were too much for Jill. A sob came first,and then the truth, told with hidden face and tears that washed theblush away, and set free the honest little soul that could not hideits fault from such a friend.
　　"I knew it all before, and was sure you would tell me, else youwould not be the child I love and like to help so well."Then, while she soothed Jill's trouble, Mrs. Minot told her storyand showed the letter, wishing to lessen, if possible, some part ofthe pain it had given.
　　"Sly old stamp! To go and tell on me when I meant to own up, antiget some credit if I could, after being so mean and bad," said Jill,smiling through her tears when she saw the tell-tale witnessesagainst her.
　　"You had better stick it in your book to remind you of the badconsequences of disobedience, then perhaps this lesson will leavea permanent impression on your mind and memory, answered Mrs.
　　Minot, glad to see her natural gayety coming back, and hoping thatshe had forgotten the contents of the unfortunate letter. But shehad not; and presently, when the sad affair had been talked overand forgiven, Jill asked, slowly, as she tried to put on a brave look,"Please tell me about Lucinda Snow. If I am to be like her, I mightas well know how she managed to bear it so long.""I'm sorry you ever heard of her, and yet perhaps it may help you tobear your trial, dear, which I hope will never be as heavy a one ashers, This Lucinda I knew for years, and though at first I thoughther fate the saddest that could be, I came at last to see how happyshe was in spite of her affliction, how good and useful andbeloved.""Why, how could she be? What did she do?" cried Jill, forgettingher own troubles to look up with an open, eager face again.
　　"She was so patient, other people were ashamed to complain oftheir small worries; so cheerful, that her own great one grewlighter; so industrious, that she made both money and friends bypretty things she worked and sold to her many visitors. And, bestof all, so wise and sweet that she seemed to get good out ofeverything, and make her poor room a sort of chapel where peoplewent for comfort, counsel, and an example of a pious life. So, yousee, Lucinda was not so very miserable after all.""Well, if I could not be as I was, I'd like to be a woman like that.
　　Only, I hope I shall not!" answered Jill, thoughtfully at first, thencoming out so decidedly with the last words that it was evident thelife of a bedridden saint was not at all to her mind.
　　"So do I; and I mean to believe that you will not. Meantime, wecan try to make the waiting as useful and pleasant as possible. Thispainful little back will be a sort of conscience to remind you ofwhat you ought to do and leave undone, and so you can be learningobedience. Then, when the body is strong, it will have formed agood habit to make duty easier; and my Lucinda can be a sweetexample, even while lying here, if she chooses.""Can I?" and Jill's eyes were full of softer tears as the comfortable,cheering words sank into her heart, to blossom slowly by and byinto her life, for this was to be a long lesson, hard to learn, but veryuseful in the years to come.
　　When the boys returned, after the Latin was recited and peacerestored, Jack showed her a recovered stamp promptly paid byFrank, who was as just as he was severe, and Jill asked for the oldred one, though she did not tell why she wanted it, nor show it putaway in the spelling-book, a little seal upon a promise made to bekept.
Chapter 8
Merry and MollyNow let us see how the other missionaries goton with their tasks.
　　Farmer Grant was a thrifty, well-to-do man, anxious to give hischildren greater advantages than he had enjoyed, and to improvethe fine place of which he was justly proud. Mrs. Grant was anotable housewife, as ambitious and industrious as her husband,but too busy to spend any time on the elegancics of life, thoughalways ready to help the poor and sick like a good neighbor andChristian woman. The three sons--Tom, Dick, and Harry--were bigfellows of seventeen, nineteen, and twenty-one; the first two on thefarm, and the elder in a store just setting up for himself.
　　Kind-hearted but rough-mannered youths, who loved Merry verymuch, but teased her sadly about her "fine lady airs," as they calledher dainty ways and love of beauty.
　　Merry was a thoughtful girl, full of innocent fancies, refined tastes,and romantic dreams, in which no one sympathized at home,though she was the pet of the family. It did seem, to an outsider, asif the delicate little creature had got there by mistake, for shelooked very like a tea-rose in a field of clover and dandelions,whose highest aim in life was to feed cows and help make rootbeer.
　　When the girls talked over the new society, it pleased Merry verymuch, and she decided not only to try and love work better, but toconvert her family to a liking for pretty things, as she called herown more cultivated tastes.
　　"I will begin at once, and show them that I don't mean to shirk myduty, though I do want to be nice," thought she, as she sat at supperone night and looked about her, planning her first move.
　　Not a very cheering prospect for a lover of the beautiful, certainly,for the big kitchen, though as neat as wax, had nothing lovely in it,except a red geranium blooming at the window. Nor were thepeople all that could be desired, in some respects, as they sat aboutthe table shovelling in pork and beans with their knives, drinkingtea from their saucers, and laughing out with a hearty "Haw, haw,"when anything amused them. Yet the boys were handsome, strongspecimens, the farmer a hale, benevolent-looking man, thehousewife a pleasant, sharp-eyed matron, who seemed to findcomfort in looking often at the bright face at her elbow, with thebroad forehead, clear eyes, sweet mouth, and quiet voice that camelike music in among the loud masculine ones, or the quick,nervous tones of a woman always in a hurry.
　　Merry's face was so thoughtful that evening that her fatherobserved it, for, when at home, he watched her as one watches akitten, glad to see anything so pretty, young, and happy, at its play.
　　"Little daughter has got something on her mind, I mistrust. Comeand tell father all about it," he said, with a sounding slap on hisbroad knee as he turned his chair from the table to the ugly stove,where three pairs of wet boots steamed underneath, and a greatkettle of cider apple-sauce simmered above.
　　"When I've helped clear up, I'll come and talk. Now, mother, yousit down and rest; Roxy and I can do everything," answered Merry,patting the old rocking-chair so invitingly that the tired womancould not resist, especially as watching the kettle gave her anexcuse for obeying.
　　"Well, I don't care if I'd o, for I've been on my feet since fiveo'clock. Be sure you cover things up, and shut the buttery door, andput the cat down cellar, and sift your meal. I'll see to thebuckwheats last thing before I go to bed."Mrs. Grant subsided with her knitting, for her hands were neveridle; Tom tilted his chair back against the wall and picked his teethwith his pen-knife; Dick got out a little pot of grease, to make theboots water-tight; and Harry sat down at the small table to lookover his accounts, with an important air--for everyone occupiedthis room, and the work was done in the out-kitchen behind.
　　Merry hated clearing up, but dutifully did every distasteful task,and kept her eye on careless Roxy till all was in order; then shegladly went to perch on her father's knee, seeing in all the facesabout her the silent welcome they always wore for the "little one.
　　"Yes, I do want something, but I know you will say it is silly," shebegan, as her father pinched her blooming cheek, with the wishthat his peaches would ever look half as well.
　　"Shouldn't wonder if it was a doll now"; and Mr. Grant stroked herhead with an indulgent smile, as if she was about six instead offifteen.
　　"Why, father, you know I don't! I haven't played with dollies foryears and years. No; I want to fix up my room pretty, like Jill's. I'lldo it all myself, and only want a few things, for I don't expect it tolook as nice as hers."Indignation gave Merry courage to state her wishes boldly, thoughshe knew the boys would laugh. They did, and her mother said in atone of surprise,"Why, child, what more can you want? I'm sure your room isalways as neat as a new pin, thanks to your bringing up, and I toldyou to have a fire there whenever you wanted to.""Let me have some old things out of the garret, and I'll show youwhat I want. It is neat, but so bare and ugly I hate to be there. I doso love something pretty to look at!" and Merry gave a little shiverof disgust as she turned her eyes away from the large greasy bootDick was holding up to be sure it was well lubricated all round.
　　"So do I, and that's a fact. I couldn't get on without my pretty girlhere, anyway. Why, she touches up the old place better than adozen flower-pots in full blow," said the farmer, as his eye wentfrom the scarlet geranium to the bright young face so near his own.
　　"I wish I had a dozen in the sitting-room window. Mother says theyare not tidy, but I'd keep them neat, and I know you'd like it,"broke in Merrry, glad of the chance to get one of the long-desiredwishes of her heart fulfilled.
　　"I'll fetch you some next time I go over to Ballad's. Tell me whatyou want, and we'll have a posy bed somewhere round, see if wedon't," said her father, dimly understanding what she wanted.
　　"Now, if mother says I may fix my room, I shall be satisfied, andI'll do my chores without a bit of fuss, to show how grateful I am,"said the girl, thanking her father with a kiss, and smiling at hermother so wistfully that the good woman could not refuse.
　　"You may have anything you like out of the blue chest. There's alot of things there that the moths got at after Grandma died, and Icouldn't bear to throw or give 'em away. Trim up your room as youlike, and mind you don't forget your part of the bargain," answeredMrs. Grant, seeing profit in the plan.
　　"I won't; I'll work all the morning to-morrow, and in the afternoonI'll get ready to show you what I call a nice, pretty room,"answered Merry, looking so pleased it seemed as if another flowerhad blossomed in the large bare kitchen.
　　She kept her word, and the very stormy afternoon when Jill gotinto trouble, Merry was working busily at her little bower. In theblue chest she found a variety of treasures, and ignoring the mothholes, used them to the best advantage, trying to imitate the simplecomfort with a touch of elegance which prevailed in Mrs. Minot'sback bedroom.
　　Three faded red-moreen curtains went up at the windows over thechilly paper shades, giving a pleasant glow to the bare walls. A redquilt with white stars, rather the worse for many washings, coveredthe bed, and a gay cloth the table, where a judicious arrangementof books and baskets concealed the spots. The little air-tight stovewas banished, and a pair of ancient andirons shone in the fire-light.
　　Grandma's last and largest braided rug lay on the hearth, and herbrass candlesticks adorned the bureau, over the mirror of whichwas festooned a white muslin skirt, tied up with Merry's red sash.
　　This piece of elegance gave the last touch to her room, shethought, and she was very proud of it, setting forth all her smallstore of trinkets in a large shell, with an empty scent bottle, and aclean tidy over the pincushion. On the walls she hung threeold-fashioned pictures, which she ventured to borrow from thegarret till better could be found. One a mourning piece, with avery tall lady weeping on an urn in a grove of willows, and twosmall boys in knee breeches and funny little square tails to theircoats, looking like cherubs in large frills. The other was as good asa bonfire, being an eruption of Vesuvius, and very lurid indeed, forthe Bay of Naples was boiling like a pot, the red sky raining rocks,and a few distracted people lying flat upon the shore. The thirdwas a really pretty scene of children dancing round a May-pole, forthough nearly a hundred years old, the little maids smiled and theboys pranced as gayly as if the flowers they carried were still aliveand sweet.
　　"Now I'll call them all to see, and say that it is pretty. Then I'llenjoy it, and come here when things look dismal and bareeverywhere else," said Merry, when at last it was done. She hadworked all the afternoon, and only finished at supper time, so thecandles had to be lighted that the toilette might look its best, andimpress the beholders with an idea of true elegance. Unfortunately,the fire smoked a little, and a window was set ajar to clear theroom; an evil disposed gust blew in, wafting the thin draperywithin reach of the light, and when Merry threw open the doorproudly thinking to display her success, she was horrified to findthe room in a blaze, and half her labor all in vain.
　　The conflagration was over in a minute, however, for the boys toredown the muslin and stamped out the fire with much laughter,while Mrs. Grant bewailed the damage to her carpet, and poorMerry took refuge in her father's arms, refusing to be comforted inspite of his kind commendation of "Grandma's fixins."The third little missionary had the hardest time of all, and her firstefforts were not much more satisfactory nor successful than theothers. Her father was away from morning till night, and then hadhis paper to read, books to keep, or "a man to see down town," sothat, after a hasty word at tea, he saw no more of the children tillanother evening, as they were seldom up at his early breakfast. Hethought they were well taken care of, for Miss Bathsheba Daweswas an energetic, middle-aged spinster when she came into thefamily, and had been there fifteen years, so he did not observe,what a woman would have seen at once, that Miss Bat was gettingold and careless, and everything about the house was at sixes andsevens. She took good care of him, and thought she had done herduty if she got three comfortable meals, nursed the children whenthey were ill, and saw that the house did not burn up. So MariaLouisa and Napoleon Bonaparte got on as they could, without thetender cares of a mother. Molly had been a happy-go-lucky child,contented with her pets, her freedom, and little Boo to love; butnow she was just beginning to see that they were not like otherchildren, and to feel ashamed of it.
　　"Papa is busy, but Miss Bat ought to see to us; she is paid for it,and goodness knows she has an easy time now, for if I ask her todo anything, she groans over her bones, and tells me young folksshould wait on themselves. I take all the care of Boo off her hands,but I can't wash my own things, and he hasn't a decent trouser tohis blessed little legs. I'd tell papa, but it wouldn't do any good;he'd only say, 'Yes, child, yes, I'll attend to it,' and never do athing."This used to be Molly's lament, when some especially trying eventoccurred, and if the girls were not there to condole with her, shewould retire to the shed-chamber, call her nine cats about her, and,sitting in the old bushel basket, pull her hair about her ears, andscold all alone. The cats learned to understand this habit, andnobly did their best to dispel the gloom which now and thenobscured the sunshine of their little mistress. Some of them wouldcreep into her lap and purr till the comfortable sound soothed herirritation; the sedate elders sat at her feet blinking with such wiseand sympathetic faces, that she felt as if half a dozen Solomonswere giving her the sagest advice; while the kittens frisked about,cutting up their drollest capers till she laughed in spite of herself.
　　When the laugh came, the worst of the fit was over, and she sooncheered up, dismissing the consolers with a pat all round, a feast ofgood things from Miss Bat's larder, and the usual speech:
　　"Well, dears, it's of no use to worry. I guess we shall get alongsomehow, if we don't fret."With which wise resolution, Molly would leave her retreat andfreshen up her spirits by a row on the river or a romp with Boo,which always finished the case. Now, however, she was bound totry the new plan and do something toward reforming not only theboy's condition, but the disorder and discomfort of home.
　　"I'll play it is Siam, and this the house of a native, and I'm come toshow the folks how to live nicely. Miss Bat won't know what tomake of it, and I can't tell her, so I shall get some fun out of it,anyway," thought Molly, as she surveyed the dining-room the dayher mission began.
　　The prospect was not cheering; and, if the natives of Siam live insuch confusion, it is high time they were attended to. Thebreakfast-table still stood as it was left, with slops of coffee on thecloth; bits of bread, egg-shells, and potato-skins lay about, and onelonely sausage was cast away in the middle of a large platter. Thefurniture was dusty, stove untidy, and the carpet looked as ifcrumbs had been scattered to chickens who declined theirbreakfast. Boo was sitting on the sofa, with his arm through a holein the cover, hunting for some lost treasure put away there for safekeeping, like a little magpie as he was. Molly fancied she washedand dressed him well enough; but to-day she seemed to see moredearly, and sighed as she thought of the hard job in store for her ifshe gave him the thorough washing he needed, and combed outthat curly mop of hair.
　　"I'll clear up first and do that by and by. I ought to have a nice littletub and good towels, like Mrs. Minot, and I will, too, if I buy themmyself," she said, piling up cups with an energy that threateneddestruction to handles.
　　Miss Bat, who was trailing about the kitchen, with her head pinnedup in a little plaid shawl, was so surprised by the demand for a panof hot water and four clean towels, that she nearly dropped hersnuff-box, chief comfort of her lazy soul.
　　"What new whimsey now? Generally, the dishes stand round till Ihave time to pick 'em up, and you are off coasting or careeringsomewhere. Well, this tidy fit won't last long, so I may as wellmake the most of it," said Miss Bat, as she handed out the requiredarticles, and then pushed her spectacles from the tip of her sharpnose to her sharper black eyes for a good look at the girl who stoodprimly before her, with a clean apron on and her hair braided upinstead of flying wildly about her shoulders.
　　"Umph!" was all the comment that Miss Bat made on this unusualneatness, and she went on scraping her saucepans, while Mollyreturned to her work, very well pleased with the effect of her firststep, for she felt that the bewilderment of Miss Bat would be aconstant inspiration to fresh efforts.
　　An hour of hard work produced an agreeable change in the abodeof the native, for the table was cleared, room swept and dusted,fire brightened, and the holes in the sofa-covering were pinned uptill time could be found to mend them. To be sure, rolls of lint layin corners, smears of ashes were on the stove hearth, and dust stilllurked on chair rounds and table legs. But too much must not beexpected of a new convert, so the young missionary sat down torest, well pleased and ready for another attempt as soon as shecould decide in what direction it should be made. She quailedbefore Boo as she looked at the unconscious innocent peacefullyplaying with the spotted dog, now bereft of his tail, and the lonesausage with which he was attempting to feed the hungry animal,whose red mouth always gaped for more.
　　"It will be an awful job, and he is so happy I won't plague him yet.
　　Guess I'll go and put my room to rights first, and pick up someclean clothes to put on him, if he is alive after I get through withhim," thought Molly, foreseeing a stormy passage for the boy, whohated a bath as much as some people hate a trip across theAtlantic.
　　Up she went, and finding the fire out felt discouraged, thought shewould rest a little more, so retired under the blankets to read oneof the Christmas books. The dinner-bell rang while she was stillwandering happily in "Nelly's Silver Mine," and she ran down tofind that Boo had laid out a railroad all across her neat room, usingbits of coal for sleepers and books for rails, over which he wasdragging the yellow sled laden with a dismayed kitten, the taillessdog, and the remains of the sausage, evidently on its way to thetomb, for Boo took bites at it now and then, no other lunch beingoffered him.
　　"Oh dear! why can't boys play without making such a mess,"sighed Molly, picking up the feathers from the duster with whichBoo had been trying to make a "cocky-doo" of the hapless dog. "I'llwash him right after dinner, and that will keep him out of mischieffor a while," she thought, as the young engineer unsuspiciouslyproceeded to ornament his already crocky countenance withsquash, cranberry sauce, and gravy, till he looked more like a Fijichief in full war-paint than a Christian boy.
　　"I want two pails of hot water, please, Miss Bat, and the big tub,"said Molly, as the ancient handmaid emptied her fourth cup of tea,for she dined with the family, and enjoyed her own good cookingin its prime.
　　"What are you going to wash now?""Boo--I'm sure he needs it enough"; and Molly could not helplaughing as the victim added to his brilliant appearance bysmearing the colors all together with a rub of two grimy hands,making a fine Turner, of himself.
　　"Now, Maria Louisa Bemis, you ain't going to cut up no caperswith that child! The idea of a hot bath in the middle of the day, andhim full of dinner, and croupy into the bargain~ Wet a corner of atowel at the kettle-spout and polish him off if you like, but youwon't risk his life in no bath-tubs this cold day."Miss Bat's word was law in some things, so Molly had to submit,and took Boo away, saying, loftily, as she left the room,"I shall ask father, and do it to-night, for I will not have my brotherlook like a pig.""My patience! how the Siamese do leave their things round," sheexclaimed, as she surveyed her room after making up the fire andpolishing off Boo. "I'll put things in order, and then mend up myrags, if I can find my thimble. Now, let me see"; and she went toexploring her closet, bureau, and table, finding such disordereverywhere that her courage nearly gave out.
　　She had clothes enough, but all needed care; even her best dresshad two buttons off, and her Sunday hat but one string. Shoes,skirts, books, and toys lay about, and her drawers were a perfectchaos of soiled ruffles, odd gloves, old ribbons, boot lacings, andbits of paper.
　　"Oh, my heart, what a muddle! Mrs. Minot wouldn't think much ofme if she could see that," said Molly, recalling how that lady oncesaid she could judge a good deal of a little girl's character andhabits by a peep at her top drawer, and went on, with greatsuccess, to guess how each of the school-mates kept her drawer.
　　"Come, missionary, clear up, and don't let me find such a gloryholeagain, or I'll report you to the society," said Molly, tippingthe whole drawer-full out upon the bed, and beguiling the tiresomejob by keeping up the new play.
　　Twilight came before it was done, and a great pile of thingsloomed up on her table, with no visible means of repair--forMolly's work-basket was full of nuts, and her thimble down a holein the shed-floor, where the cats had dropped it in their play.
　　"I'll ask Bat for hooks and tape, and papa for some money to buyscissors and things, for I don't know where mine are. Glad I can'tdo any more now! Being neat is such hard work!" and Molly threwherself down on the rug beside the old wooden cradle in whichBoo was blissfully rocking, with a cargo of toys aboard.
　　She watched her time, and as soon as her father had done supper,she hastened to say, before he got to his desk,"Please, papa, I want a dollar to get some brass buttons and thingsto fix Boo's clothes with. He wore a hole in his new trouserscoasting down the Kembles' steps. And can't I wash him? He needsit, and Miss Bat won't let me have a tub.""Certainly, child, certainly; do what you like, only don't keep me. Imust be off, or I shall miss Jackson, and he's the man I want"; and,throwing down two dollars instead of one, Mr. Bemis hurriedaway, with a vague impression that Boo had swallowed a dozenbrass buttons, and Miss Bat had been coasting somewhere in abath-pan; but catching Jackson was important, so he did not stop toinvestigate.
　　Armed with the paternal permission, Molly carried her point, andoh, what a dreadful evening poor Boo spent! First, he was decoyedupstairs an hour too soon, then put in a tub by main force andsternly scrubbed, in spite of shrieks that brought Miss Bat to thelocked door to condole with the sufferer, scold the scrubber, anddepart, darkly prophesying croup before morning.
　　"He always howls when he is washed; but I shall do it, since youwon't, and he must get used to it. I will not have people tell me he'sneglected, if I can help it," cried Molly, working away with tears inher eyes--for it was as hard for her as for Boo; but she meant to bethorough for once in her life, no matter what happened.
　　When the worst was over, she coaxed him with candy and storiestill the long task of combing out the curls was safely done; then, inthe clean night-gown with a blue button newly sewed on, she laidhim in bed, worn out, but sweet as a rose.
　　"Now, say your prayers, darling, and go to sleep with the nice redblanket all tucked round so you won't get cold," said Molly, ratherdoubtful of the effect of the wet head.
　　"No, I won't! Going to sleep now!" and Boo shut his eyes wearily,feeling that his late trials had not left him in a prayerful mood.
　　"Then you'll be a real little heathen, as Mrs. Pecq called you, and Idon't know what I shall do with you," said Molly, longing tocuddle rather than scold the little fellow, whose soul neededlooking after as well as his body.
　　"No, no; I won't be a heevin! I don't want to be frowed to thetrockindiles. I will say my prayers! oh, I will!" and, rising in hisbed, Boo did so, with the devotion of an infant Samuel, for heremembered the talk when the society was formed.
　　Molly thought her labors were over for that night, and soon went tobed, tired with her first attempts. But toward morning she waswakened by the hoarse breathing of the boy, and was forced topatter away to Miss Bat's room, humbly asking for the squills, andconfessing that the prophecy had come to pass.
　　"I knew it! Bring the child to me, and don't fret. I'll see to him, andnext time you do as I say," was the consoling welcome shereceived as the old lady popped up a sleepy but anxious face in alarge flannel cap, and shook the bottle with the air of a generalwho had routed the foe before and meant to do it again.
　　Leaving her little responsibility in Miss Bat's arms, Molly tired towet her pillow with a few remorseful tears, and to fall asleep,wondering if real missionaries ever killed their pupils in theprocess of conversion.
　　So the girls all failed in the beginning; but they did not give up,and succeeded better next time, as we shall see.
Chapter 9
The Debating Club"Look here, old man, we ought to have a meeting. Holidays areover, and we must brace up and attend to business," said Frank toGus, as they strolled out of the schoolyard one afternoon inJanuary, apparently absorbed in conversation, but in reality waitingfor a blue cloud and a scarlet feather to appear on the steps.
　　"All right. When, where, and what?" asked Gus, who was a man offew words.
　　"To-night, our house, subject, 'Shall girls go to college with us?'
　　Mother said we had better be making up our minds, becauseeveryone is talking about it, and we shall have to be on one side orthe other, so we may as well settle it now," answered Frank, forthere was an impression among the members that all vexedquestions would be much helped by the united eloquence andwisdom of the club.
　　"Very good; I'll pass the word and be there. Hullo, Neddy! The D.
　　C. meets to-night, at Minot's, seven sharp. Co-ed, &c.," added Gus,losing no time, as a third boy came briskly round the corner, with alittle bag in his hand.
　　"I'll come. Got home an hour earlier to-night, and thought I'd lookyou up as I went by," responded Ed Devlin, as he took possessionof the third post, with a glance toward the schoolhouse to see if aseal-skin cap, with a long, yellow braid depending therefrom, wasanywhere in sight.
　　"Very good of you, I'm sure," said Gus, ironically, not a bitdeceived by this polite attention.
　　"The longest way round is sometimes the shortest way home, hey,Ed?" and Frank gave him a playful poke that nearly sent him offhis perch.
　　Then they all laughed at some joke of their own, and Gus added,"No girls coming to hear us to-night. Don't think it, my son.
　　"More's the pity," and Ed shook his head regretfully over thedownfall of his hopes.
　　"Can't help it; the other fellows say they spoil the fun, so we haveto give in, sometimes, for the sake of peace and quietness. Don'tmind having them a bit myself," said Frank, in such a tone ofcheerful resignation that they laughed again, for the "Triangle," asthe three chums were called, always made merry music.
　　"We must have a game party next week. The girls like that, and sodo I," candidly observed Gus, whose pleasant parlors were thescene of many such frolics.
　　"And so do your sisters and your cousins and your aunts," hummedEd, for Gus was often called Admiral because he really did possessthree sisters, two cousins, and four aunts, besides mother andgrandmother, all living in the big house together.
　　The boys promptly joined in the popular chorus, and other voicesall about the yard took it up, for the "Pinafore" epidemic ragedfearfully in Harmony Village that winter.
　　"How's business?" asked Gus, when the song ended, for Ed had notreturned to school in the autumn, but had gone into a store in thecity.
　　"Dull; things will look up toward spring, they say. I get on wellenough, but I miss you fellows dreadfully"; and Ed put a hand onthe broad shoulder of each friend, as if he longed to be aschool-boy again.
　　"Better give it up and go to college with me next year," said Frank,who was preparing for Boston University, while Gus fitted forHarvard.
　　"No; I've chosen business, and I mean to stick to it, so don't youunsettle my mind. Have you practised that March?" asked Ed,turning to a gayer subject, for he had his little troubles, but alwayslooked on the bright side of things.
　　"Skating is so good, I don't get much time. Come early, and we'llhave a turn at it.""I will. Must run home now.""Pretty cold loafing here.""Mail is in by this time."And with these artless excuses the three boys leaped off the posts,as if one spring moved them, as a group of girls came chatteringdown the path. The blue cloud floated away beside Frank, thescarlet feather marched off with the Admiral, while the fur capnodded to the gray hat as two happy faces smiled at each other.
　　The same thing often happened, for twice a-day the streets werefull of young couples walking to and from school together, smiledat by the elders, and laughed at by the less susceptible boys andgirls, who went alone or trooped along in noisy groups. Theprudent mothers had tried to stop this guileless custom, but foundit very difficult, as the fathers usually sympathized with their sons,and dismissed the matter with the comfortable phrase, "Nevermind; boys will be boys." "Not forever," returned the anxiousmammas, seeing the tall lads daily grow more manly, and thepretty daughters fast learning to look demure when certain nameswere mentioned.
　　It could not be stopped without great parental sternness and thedanger of deceit, for co-education will go on outside of schoolif not inside, and the safest way is to let sentiment and study gohand in hand, with teachers and parents to direct and explain thegreat lesson all are the better for learning soon or late. So theelders had to give in, acknowledging that this sudden readiness togo to school was a comfort, that the new sort of gentle emulationworked wonders in lazy girls and boys, and that watching these"primrose friendships" bud, blossom, and die painless deaths, gavea little touch of romance to their own work-a-day lives.
　　"On the whole I'd rather have my sons walking, playing, andstudying with bright, well-mannered girls, than always knockingabout with rough boys," said Mrs. Minot at one of the Mothers'
　　Meetings, where the good ladies met to talk over their children,and help one another to do their duty by them.
　　"I find that Gus is more gentle with his sisters since Juliet took himin hand, for he wants to stand well with her, and they report him ifhe troubles them. I really see no harm in the little friendship,though I never had any such when I was a girl," said Mrs. Burton,who adored her one boy and was his confidante.
　　"My Merry seems to be contented with her brothers so far, but Ishouldn't wonder if I had my hands full by and by," added Mrs.
　　Grant, who already foresaw that her sweet little daughter would besought after as soon as she should lengthen her skirts and turn upher bonny brown hair.
　　Molly Loo had no mother to say a word for her, but she settledmatters for herself by holding fast to Merry, and declaring that shewould have no escort but faithful Boo.
　　It is necessary to dwell a moment upon this new amusement,because it was not peculiar to Harmony Village, but appearseverywhere as naturally as the game parties and croquet whichhave taken the place of the husking frolics and apple-bees of oldentimes, and it is impossible to dodge the subject if one attempts towrite of boys and girls as they really are nowadays.
　　"Here, my hero, see how you like this. If it suits, you will be readyto march as soon as the doctor gives the word," said Ralph, cominginto the Bird Room that evening with a neat little crutch under hisarm.
　　"Ha, ha, that looks fine! I'd like to try it right off, but I won't till Iget leave. Did you make it yourself, Ral?" asked Jack, handling itwith delight, as he sat bolt upright, with his leg on a rest, for hewas getting on capitally now.
　　"Mostly. Rather a neat job, I flatter myself.""I should say so. What a clever fellow you are! Any new inventionslately?" asked Frank, coming up to examine and admire.
　　Only an anti-snoring machine and an elbow-pad, answered Ralph,with a twinkle in his eye, as if reminded of something funny.
　　"Go on, and tell about them. I never heard of an anti-snorer. Jackbetter have one," said Frank, interested at once.
　　"Well, a rich old lady kept her family awake with that lively music,so she sent to Shirtman and Codleff for something to stop it. Theythought it was a good joke, and told me to see what I could do. Ithought it over, and got up the nicest little affair you ever saw. Itwent over the mouth, and had a tube to fit the ear, so when thelady snored she woke herself up and stopped it. It suited exactly. Ithink of taking out a patent," concluded Ralph, joining in the boys'
　　laugh at the droll idea.
　　"What was the pad?" asked Frank, returning to the small model ofan engine he was making.
　　"Oh, that was a mere trifle for a man who had a tender elbow-jointand wanted something to protect it. I made a little pad to fit on,and his crazy-bone was safe.""I planned to have you make me a new leg if this one was spoilt,"said Jack, sure that his friend could invent anything under the sun.
　　"I'd do my best for you. I made a hand for a fellow once, and thatgot me my place, you know," answered Ralph, who thought littleof such mechanical trifles, and longed to be painting portraits ormodelling busts, being an artist as well as an inventor.
　　Here Gus, Ed, and several other boys came in, and theconversation became general. Grif, Chick, and Brickbat were threeyoung gentlemen whose own respectable names were usuallyignored, and they cheerfully answered to these nicknames.
　　As the clock struck seven, Frank, who ruled the club with a rod ofiron when Chairman, took his place behind the study table. Seatsstood about it, and a large, shabby book lay before Gus, who wasSecretary, and kept the records with a lavish expenditure of ink, tojudge by the blots. The members took their seats, and nearly alltilted back their chairs and put their hands in their pockets, to keepthem out of mischief; for, as everyone knows, it is impossible fortwo lads to be near each other and refrain from tickling orpinching. Frank gave three raps with an old croquet-mallet set on ashort handle, and with much dignity opened the meeting.
　　"Gentlemen, the business of the club will be attended to, and thenwe will discuss the question, 'Shall girls go to our colleges?' TheSecretary will now read the report of the last meeting."Clearing his throat, Gus read the following brief and elegantreport:
　　"Club met, December I 8th, at the house of G. Burton, Esq.
　　Subject:
　　'Is summer or winter best fun?' A lively pow-wow. About evenlydivided. J. Flint fined five cents for disrespect to the Chair. Acollection of forty cents taken up to pay for breaking a pane ofglass during a free fight of the members on the door-step. E.
　　Devlin was chosen Secretary for the coming year, and a new bookcontributed by the Chairman.""That's all.""Is there any other business before the meeting?" asked Frank, asthe reader closed the old book with a slam and shoved the newone across the table.
　　Ed rose, and glancing about him with an appealing look, said, as ifsure his proposition would not be well received, "I wish to proposethe name of a new member. Bob Walker wants to join, and 1 thinkwe ought to let him. He is trying to behave well, and I am sure wecould help him. Can't we?"All the boys looked sober, and Joe, otherwise Brickbat, said,bluntly, "I won't. He's a bad lot, and we don't want any such here.
　　Let him go with chaps of his own sort.""That is just what I want to keep him from! He's a good-heartedboy enough, oniy no one looks after him; so he gets into scrapes,as we should, if we were in his place, I'd are say. He wants tocome here, and would be so proud if he was let in, I know he'dbehave. Come now, let's give him a chance," and Ed looked at Gusand Frank, sure that if they stood by him he should carry his point.
　　But Gus shook his head, as if doubtful of the wisdom of the plan,and Frank said gravely: "You know we made the rule that thenumber should never be over eight, and we cannot break it.""You needn't. I can't he here half the time, so I will resign and letBob have my place," began Ed, but he was silenced by shouts of"No, no, you shan't!" "We won't let you off!" "Club would go tosmash, if you back out!""Let him have my place; I'm the youngest, and you won't miss me,"cried Jack, bound to stand by Ed at all costs.
　　"We might do that," said Frank, who did object to small boys,though willing to admit this particular one.
　　"Better make a new rule to have ten members, and admit both Boband Tom Grant," said Ralph, whereat Grif grinned and Joescowled, for one lad liked Merry's big brother and the other didnot.
　　"That's a good idea! Put it to vote," said Gus, too kind-hearted toshut the door on anyone.
　　"First I want to ask if all you fellows are ready to stand by Bob, outof the club as well as in, for it won't do much good to be kind tohim here and cut him at school and in the street," said Ed, heartilyin earnest about the matter.
　　"I will!" cried Jack, ready to follow where his beloved friend led,and the others nodded, unwilling to be outdone by the youngestmember.
　　"Good! With all of us to lend a hand, we can do a great deal; and Itell you, boys, it is time, if we want to keep poor Bob straight. Weall turn our backs on him, so he loafs round the tavern, and goeswith fellows we don't care to know. But he isn't bad yet, and wecan keep him up, I'm sure, if we just try. I hope to get him into theLodge, and that will be half the battle, won't it, Frank?" added Ed,sure that this suggestion would have weight with the honorableChairman.
　　"Bring him along; I'm with you!" answered Frank, making up hismind at once, for he had joined the Temperance Lodge four yearsago, and already six boys had followed his example.
　　"He is learning to smoke, but we'll make him drop it before it leadsto worse. You can help him there, Admiral, if you only will,"added Ed, giving a grateful look at one friend, and turning to theother.
　　"I'm your man"; and Gus looked as if he knew what he promised,for he had given up smoking to oblige his father, and kept his wordlike a hero.
　　"You other fellows can do a good deal by just being kind and nottwitting him with old scrapes, and I'll do anything I can for you allto pay for this"; and Ed sat down with a beaming smile, feelingthat his cause was won.
　　The vote was taken, and all hands went up, for even surly Joe gavein; so Bob and Tom were duly elected, and proved their gratitudefor the honor done them by becoming worthy members of the club.
　　It was only boys' play now, but the kind heart and pure instincts ofone lad showed the others how to lend a helping hand to acomrade in danger, and win him away from temptation to thesafer pastimes of their more guarded lives.
　　Well pleased with themselves--for every genuine act or word, nomatter how trifling it seems, leaves a sweet and strengtheninginfluence behind--the members settled down to the debate, whichwas never very long, and often only an excuse for fun of all sorts.
　　"Ralph, Gus, and Ed are for, and Brickbat, Grif, and Chick against,I suppose?" said Frank, surveying his company like a generalpreparing for battle.
　　"No, sir! I believe in co-everything!" cried Chick, a mild youth,who loyally escorted a chosen damsel home from school everyday.
　　A laugh greeted this bold declaration, and Chick sat down, red butfirm.
　　"I'll speak for two since the Chairman can't, and Jack won't goagainst those who pet him most to death," said Joe, who, not beinga favorite with the girls, considered them a nuisance and lost noopportunity of telling them so.
　　Fire away, then, since you are up; commanded Frank.
　　"Well," began Joe, feeling too late how much he had undertaken,"I don't know a great deal about it, and I don't care, but I do notbelieve in having girls at college. They'd on't belong there, nobodywants 'em, and they'd better be at home darning their stockings.""Yours, too," put in Ralph, who had heard that argument so oftenhe was tired of it.
　　"Of course; that's what girls are for. I don't mind 'em at school, butI'd just as soon they had a room to themselves. We should get onbetter.""You would if Mabel wasn't in your class and always ahead ofyou," observed Ed, whose friend was a fine scholar, and he veryproud of the fact.
　　"Look here, if you fellows keep interrupting, I won't sit down forhalf an hour," said Joe, well knowing that eloquence was not hisgift, but bound to have his say out.
　　Deep silence reigned, for that threat quelled the most impatientmember, and Joe prosed on, using all the arguments he had everheard, and paying off several old scores by siy hits of a personalnature, as older orators often do.
　　"It is clear to my mind that boys would get on better without anygirls fooling round. As for their being as smart as we are, it is allnonsense, for some of 'em cry over their lessons every day, or gohome with headaches, or get mad and scold all recess, becausesomething 'isn't fair.' No, sir; girls ain't meant to know much, andthey can't. Wise folks say so and I believe 'em. Haven't got anysisters myself, and I don't want any, for they'd on't seem to amountto much, according to those who do have 'em."Groans from Gus and Ed greeted the closing remarks of theungallant Joe, who sat down, feeling that he had made somebodysquirm. Up jumped Grif, the delight of whose life was practicaljokes, which amiable weakness made him the terror of the girls,though they had no other fault to find with the merry lad.
　　"Mr. Chairman, the ground I take is this: girls have not the strengthto go to college with us. They couldn't row a race, go on a lark, ortake care of themselves, as we do. They are all well enough athome, and I like them at parties, but for real fun and go I wouldn'tgive a cent for them," began Grif, whose views of a collegiate lifewere confined to the enjoyments rather than the studies of thatfestive period. "I have tried them, and they can't stand anything.
　　They scream if you tell them there is a mouse in the room, and runif they see a big dog. I just put a cockroach in Molly's desk oneday, and when she opened it she jumped as if she was shot."So did the gentlemen of the club, for at that moment half-a-dozenfire-crackers exploded under the chair Grif had left, and flewwildly about the room. Order was with difficulty restored, themischievous party summarily chastised and commanded to holdhis tongue, under penalty of ejectment from the room if he spokeagain. Firmly grasping that red and unruly member, Grif composedhimself to listen, with his nose in the air and his eyes shining likeblack beads.
　　Ed was always the peace-maker, and now, when he rose with hisengaging smile, his voice fell like oil upon the troubled waters,and his bright face was full of the becoming bashfulness whichafflicts youths of seventeen when touching upon such subjects ofnewly acquired interest as girls and their pleasant but perplexingways.
　　"It seems to me we have hardly considered the matter enough to beable to say much. But I think that school would be awfully dry anddismal without--ahem!--any young ladies to make it nice. Iwouldn't give a pin to go if there was only a crowd of fellows,though I like a good game as well as any man. I pity any boy whohas no sisters," continued Ed, warming up as he thought of hisown, who loved him dearly, as well they might, for a better brothernever lived. "Home wouldn't be worth having without them to lookafter a fellow, to keep him out of scrapes, help him with hislessons, and make things jolly for his friends. I tell you we can't dowithout girls, and I'm not ashamed to say that I think the more wesee of them, and try to be like them in many ways, the better menwe shall be by and by.""Hear! hear!" cried Frank, in his deepest tone, for he heartilyagreed to that, having talked the matter over with his mother, andreceived much light upon things which should always be set rightin young heads and hearts. And who can do this so wisely and wellas mothers, if they only will?
　　Feeling that his sentiments had been approved, and he need not beashamed of the honest color in his cheeks, Ed sat down amid theapplause of his side, especially of Jack, who pounded sovigorously with his crutch that Mrs. Pecq popped in her head tosee if anything was wanted.
　　"No, thank you, ma'am, we were only cheering Ed," said Gus, nowupon his legs, and rather at a loss what to say till Mrs. Pecq'sappearance suggested an idea, and he seized upon it.
　　"My honored friend has spoken so well that I have little to add. Iagree with him, and if you want an example of what girls can do,why, look at Jill. She's young, I know, but a first-rate scholar forher age. As for pluck, she is as brave as a boy, and almost as smartat running, rowing, and so on. Of course, she can't play ball--nogirl can; their arms are not made right to throw--but she can catchremarkably well. I'll say that for her. Now, if she and Mabel--and--and--some others I could name, are so clever and strong at thebeginning, I don't see why they shouldn't keep up and go alongwith us all through. I'm willing, and will do what I can to helpother fellows' sisters as I'd like to have them help mine. And I'llpunch their heads if they'd on't"; and Gus subsided, assured, by aburst of applause, that his manly way of stating the case met withgeneral approval.
　　"We shall be happy to hear from our senior member if he willhonor us with a few remarks," said Frank, with a bow to Ralph.
　　No one ever knew whom he would choose to personate, for henever spoke in his own character. Now he rose slowly, put onehand in his bosom, and fixing his eye sternly on Crif, who wasdoing something suspicious with a pin, gave them a touch ofSergeant Buzfuz, from the Pickwick trial, thinking that the debatewas not likely to throw much light on the subject under discussion.
　　In the midst of this appeal to "Me lud and gentlemen of the jury,"he suddenly paused, smoothed his hair down upon his forehead,rolled up his eyes, and folding his hands, droned out Mr.
　　Chadband's sermon on Peace, delivered over poor Jo, and endingwith the famous lines:
　　"Oh, running stream of sparkling joy,To be a glorious human boy!"Then, setting his hair erect with one comprehensive sweep, hecaught up his coat-skirts over his arm, and, assuming aparliamentary attitude, burst into a comical medley, composed ofextracts from Jefferson Brick's and Lafayette Kettle's speeches, andElijah Pogram's Defiance, from "Martin Chuzzlewit." Gazing atGus, who was convulsed with suppressed merriment, he thunderedforth:
　　"In the name of our common country, sir, in the name of thatrighteous cause in which we are jined, and in the name of thestar-spangled banner, I thank you for your eloquent and categoricalremarks. You, sir, are a model of a man fresh from Natur's mould.
　　A true-born child of this free hemisphere; verdant as the mountainsof our land; bright and flowin' as our mineral Licks; unspiled byfashion as air our boundless perearers. Rough you may be; so airour Barrs. Wild you may be; so air our Buff alers. But, sir, you aira Child of Freedom, and your proud answer to the Tyrant is, thatyour bright home is in the Settin' Sun. And, sir, if any man deniesthis fact, though it be the British Lion himself, I defy him. Let mehave him here!"--smiting the table, and causing the inkstand toskip--"here, upon this sacred altar! Here, upon the ancestral ashescemented with the glorious blood poured out like water on theplains of Chickabiddy Lick. Alone I'd are that Lion, and tell himthat Freedom's hand once twisted in his mane, he rolls a corsebefore me, and the Eagles of the Great Republic scream, Ha, ha!"By this time the boys were rolling about in fits of laughter; evensober Frank was red and breathless, and Jack lay back, feeblysquealing, as he could laugh no more. In a moment Ralph was asmeek as a Quaker, and sat looking about him with a mildlyastonished air, as if inquiring the cause of such unseemly mirth. Aknock at the door produced a lull, and in came a maid with apples.
　　"Time's up; fall to and make yourselves comfortable," was thesummary way in which the club was released from its sternerduties and permitted to unbend its mighty mind for a socialhalfhour, chiefly devoted to whist, with an Indian war-dance as aclosing ceremony.
Chapter 10
The Dramatic ClubWhile Jack was hopping gayly about on his crutches, poor Jill wasfeeling the effects of her second fall, and instead of sitting up, asshe hoped to do after six weeks of rest, she was ordered to lie on aboard for two hours each day. Not an easy penance, by any means,for the board was very hard, and she could do nothing while shelay there, as it did not slope enough to permit her to read withoutgreat fatigue of both eyes and hands. So the little martyr spent herfirst hour of trial in sobbing, the second in singing, for just as hermother and Mrs. Minot were deciding in despair that neither shenor they could bear it, Jill suddenly broke out into a merry chorusshe used to hear her father sing:
　　"Faut jouer le mirliton,Faut jouer le mirlitir,Faut jouer le mirliter,Mir--li--ton."The sound of the brave little voice was very comforting to the twomothers hovering about her, and Jack said, with a look of mingledpity and admiration, as he brandished his crutch over theimaginary foes,"That's right! Sing away, and we'll play you are an Indian captivebeing tormented by your enemies, and too proud to complain. I'llwatch the clock, and the minute time is up I'll rush in and rescueyou."Jill laughed, but the fancy pleased her, and she straightened herselfout under the gay afghan, while she sang, in a plaintive voice,another little French song her father taught her:
　　"J'avais une colombe blanche,J'avais un blanc petit pigeon,Tous deu~ volaient, do branche en branche,Jusqu'au falte de mon don geon:
　　Mais comme un coup do vent d'automne,S'est abattu Za, I'éper-vier,Ft ma colombe si mignonneNe revient plus au colombier.""My poor Jean had a fine voice, and always hoped the child wouldtake after him. It would break his heart to see her lying there tryingto cheer her pain with the songs he used to sing her to sleep with,"said Mrs. Pecq, sadly.
　　"She really has a great deal of talent, and when she is able sheshall have some lessons, for music is a comfort and a pleasure,sick or well," answered Mrs. Minot, who had often admired thefresh voice, with its pretty accent.
　　Here Jill began the Canadian boat-song, with great vigor, as ifbound to play her part of Indian victim with spirit, and not disgraceherself by any more crying. All knew the air, and joined in,especially Jack, who came out strong on the "Row, brothers, row,"but ended in a squeak on a high note, so drolly, that the rest brokedown. So the hour that began with tears ended with music andlaughter, and a new pleasure to think of for the future.
　　After that day Jill exerted all her fortitude, for she liked to have theboys call her brave and admire the cheerful way in which sheendured two hours of discomfort. She found she could use herzither as it lay upon her breast, and every day the pretty musicbegan at a certain hour, and all in the house soon learned to loveand listen for it. Even the old cook set open her kitchen door,saying pitifully, "Poor darlint, hear how purty she's singin', wid thepain, on that crewel boord. It's a little saint, she is. May her bedabove be aisy!"Frank would lift her gently on and off, with a kind word thatcomforted her immensely, and gentle Ed would come and teachher new bits of music, while the other fellows were frolickingbelow. Ralph added his share to her amusement, for he asked leaveto model her head in clay, and set up his work in a corner, Corningto pat, scrape, and mould whenever he had a spare minute,amusing her by his lively chat, and showing her how to shapebirds, rabbits, and queer faces in the soft clay, when the songswere all sung and her fingers tired of the zither.
　　The girls sympathized very heartily with her new trial, and broughtall manner of gifts to cheer her captivity. Merry and Molly made agay screen by pasting pictures on the black cambric which coveredthe folding frame that stood before her to keep the draughts fromher as she lay on her board. Bright birds and flowers, figures andanimals, covered one side, and on the other they put mottoes, bitsof poetry, anecdotes, and short stories, so that Jill could lie andlook or read without the trouble of holding a book. It was not alldone at once, but grew slowly, and was a source of instruction aswell as amusement to them all, as they read carefully, that theymight make good Selections.
　　But the thing that pleased Jill most was something Jack did, for hegave up going to school, and stayed at home nearly a fortnightafter he might have gone, all for her sake. The day the doctor saidhe might try it if he would be very careful, he was in great spirits,and limped about, looking up his books, and planning how hewould astonish his mates by the rapidity of his recovery. When hesat down to rest he remembered Jill, who had been lying quietlybehind the screen, while he talked with his mother, busy puttingfresh covers on the books.
　　"She is so still, I guess she is asleep," thought Jack, peeping roundthe corner.
　　No, not asleep, but lying with her eyes fixed on the sunny window,beyond which the bright winter world sparkled after a freshsnow-fall. The jingle of sleigh-bells could be heard, the laughter ofboys and girls on their way to school, all the pleasant stir of a newday of happy work and play for the rest of the world, more lonely,quiet, and wearisome than ever to her since her friend andfellow-prisoner was set free and going to leave her.
　　Jack understood that patient, wistful look, and, without a word,went back to his seat, staring at the fire so soberly, that his motherpresently asked: "What are you thinking of so busily, with thatpucker in your forehead?""I've about made up my mind that I won't go to school just yet,"answered Jack, slowly lifting his head, for it cost him something togive up the long-expected pleasure.
　　"Why not?" and Mrs. Minot looked much surprised, till Jackpointed to the screen, and, making a sad face to express Jill'sanguish, answered in a cheerful tone, 'Well, I'm not sure that it isbest. Doctor did not want me to go, but said I might because Iteased. I shall be sure to come to grief, and then everyone will say,'I told you so,' and that is so provoking. I'd rather keep still a weeklonger. Hadn't I better?"His mother smiled and nodded as she said, sewing away atmuch-abused old Caesar, as if she loved him, "Do as you thinkbest, dear. I always want you at home, but I don't wonder you arerather tired of it after this long confinement.""I say, Jill, should I be in your way if I didn't go to school till thefirst of February?" called Jack, laughing to himself at the absurdityof the question.
　　"Not much!" answered a glad voice from behind the screen, and heknew the sorrowful eyes were shining with delight, though hecould not see them.
　　"Well, I guess I may as well, and get quite firm on my legs before Istart. Another week or so will bring me up if I study hard, so I shallnot lose my time. I'll tackle my Latin as soon as it's ready, mother."Jack got a hearty kiss with the neatly covered book, and Mammaloved him for the little sacrifice more than if he had won a prize atschool. He did get a reward, for, in five minutes from the time hedecided, Jill was singing like a bobolink, and such a medley ofmerry music came from behind the screen, that it was a regularmorning concert. She did not know then that he stayed for hersake, but she found it out soon after, and when the time came didas much for him, as we shall see.
　　It proved a wise decision, for the last part of January was sostormy Jack could not have gone half the time. So, while the snowdrifted, and bitter winds raged, he sat snugly at home amusing Jill,and getting on bravely with his lessons, for Frank took great painswith him to show his approbation of the little kindness, and,somehow, the memory of it seemed to make even the detestedLatin easier.
　　With February fair weather set in, and Jack marched happily awayto school, with Jill's new mittens on his hands, Mamma noddingfrom the door-step, and Frank ready to give him a lift on the newsled, if the way proved too long or too rough.
　　"I shall not have time to miss him now, for we are to be very busygetting ready for the Twenty-second. The Dramatic Club meetsto-night, and would like to come here, if they may, so 1 can help?"said Jill, as Mrs. Minot came up, expecting to find her rather lowin her mind.
　　"Certainly; and I have a basket of old finery I looked up for theclub when I was rummaging out bits of silk for your blue quilt,"answered the good lady, who had set up a new employment tobeguile the hours of Jack's absence.
　　When the girls arrived, that evening, they found Mrs. Chairwomansurrounded by a strew of theatrical properties, enjoying herselfvery much. All brought such contributions as they could muster,and all were eager about a certain tableau which was to be the gemof the whole, they thought. Jill, of course, was not expected to takeany part, but her taste was good, so all consulted her as theyshowed their old silks, laces, and flowers, asking who should bethis, and who that. All wanted to be the "Sleeping Beauty," for thatwas the chosen scene, with the slumbering court about theprincess, and the prince in the act of awakening her. Jack was to bethe hero, brave in his mother's velvet cape, red boots, and a realsword, while the other boys were to have parts of more or lesssplendor.
　　"Mabel should be the Beauty, because her hair is so lovely," saidJuliet, who was quite satisfied with her own part of the Queen.
　　"No, Merry ought to have it, as she is the prettiest, and has thatsplendid veil to wear," answered Molly, who was to be the maid ofhonor, cuffing the little page, Boo.
　　"I don't care a bit, but my feather would be fine for the Princess,and I don't know as Emma would like to have me lend it to anyoneelse," said Annette, waving a long white plume over her head, withgirlish delight in its grace.
　　"I should think the white silk dress, the veil, and the feather oughtto go together, with the scarlet crape shawl and these pearls. Thatwould be sweet, and just what princesses really wear," advised Jill,who was stringing a quantity of old Roman pearls.
　　"We all want to wear the nice things, so let us draw lots. Wouldn'tthat be the fairest way?" asked Merry, looking like a rosy littlebride, under a great piece of illusion, which had done duty in manyplays.
　　"The Prince is light, so the Princess must be darkish. We ought tochoose the girl who will look best, as it is a picture. I heard MissDelano say so, when the ladies got up the tableaux, last winter, andeveryone wanted to be Cleopatra," said Jill decidedly.
　　"You choose, and then if we can't agree we will draw lots,"proposed Susy, who, being plain, knew there was little hope of hergetting a chance in any other way.
　　So all stood in a row, and Jill, from her sofa, surveyed themcritically, feeling that the one Jack would really prefer was notamong the number.
　　"I choose that one, for Juliet wants to be Queen, Molly wouldmake faces, and the others are too big or too light," pronouncedJill, pointing to Merry, who looked pleased, while Mabel's facedarkened, and Susy gave a disdainful sniff.
　　"You'd better draw lots, and then there will be no fuss. Ju and I areout of the fight, but you three can try, and let this settle thematter," said Molly, handing Jill a long strip of paper.
　　All agreed to let it be so, and when the bits were ready drew inturn. This time fate was evidently on Merry's side, and no onegrumbled when she showed the longest paper.
　　"Go and dress, then come back, and we'll plan how we are to beplaced before we call up the boys," commanded Jill, who wasmanager, since she could be nothing else.
　　The girls retired to the bedroom and began to "rig up," as theycalled it; but discontent still lurked among them, and showed itselfin sharp words, envious looks, and disobliging acts.
　　"Am I to have the white silk and the feather?" asked Merry,delighted with the silvery shimmer of the one and the gracefuldroop of the other, though both were rather shabby.
　　"You can use your own dress. I don't see why you should haveeverything," answered Susy, who was at the mirror, putting awreath of scarlet flowers on her red head, bound to be gay sinceshe could not be pretty.
　　"I think I'd better keep the plume, as I haven't anything else that isnice, and I'm afraid Emma wouldn't like me to lend it," addedAnnette, who was disappointed that Mabel was not to be theBeauty.
　　"1 don't intend to act at all!" declared Mabel, beginning to braid upher hair with a jerk, out of humor with the whole affair.
　　"1 think you are a set of cross, selfish girls to back out and keepyour nice things just because you can't all have the best part. I'mashamed of you!" scolded Molly, standing by Merry, who wassadly surveying her mother's old purple silk, which looked likebrown in the evening.
　　"I'm going to have Miss Delano's red brocade for the Queen, and Ishall ask her for the yellow-satin dress for Merry when I go to getmine, and tell her how mean you are," said Juliet, frowning underher gilt-paper crown as she swept about in a red table-S cloth fortrain till the brocade arrived.
　　"Perhaps you'd like to have Mabel cut her hair off, so Merry canhave that, too?" cried Susy, with whom hair was a tender point.
　　"Light hair isn't wanted, so Ju will have to give hers, or you'd betterborrow Miss Bat's frisette," added Mabel, with a scornful laugh.
　　"I just wish Miss Bat was here to give you girls a good shaking. Dolet someone else have a chance at the glass, you peacock!"exclaimed Molly Loo, pushing Susy aside to arrange her own blueturban, out of which she plucked the pink pompon to give Merry.
　　"Don't quarrel about me. I shall do well enough, and the scarletshawl will hide my ugly dress," said Merry, from the corner, whereshe sat waiting for her turn at the mirror.
　　As she spoke of the shawl her eye went in search of it, andsomething that she saw in the other room put her owndisappointment out of her head. Jill lay there all alone, rather tiredwith the lively chatter, and the effort it cost her not to repine atbeing shut out from the great delight of dressing up and acting.
　　Her eyes were closed, her net was off, and all the pretty black curlslay about her shoulders as one hand idly pulled them out, while theother rested on the red shawl, as if she loved its glowing color andsoft texture. She was humming to herself the little song of the doveand the donjon, and something in the plaintive voice, the solitaryfigure, went straight to Merry's gentle heart.
　　"Poor Jilly can't have any of the fun," was the first thought; thencame a second, that made Merry start and smile, and in a minutewhisper so that all but Jill could hear her, "Girls, I'm not going tobe the Princess. But I've thought of a splendid one!"'Who?" asked the rest, staring at one another, much surprised bythis sudden announcement.
　　"Hush! Speak low, or you will spoil it all. Look in the Bird Room,and tell me if that isn't a prettier Princess than I could make?"They all looked, but no one spoke, and Merry added, with sweeteagerness, "It is the only thing poor Jill can be, and it would makeher so happy; Jack would like it, and it would please everyone, Iknow. Perhaps she will never walk again, so we ought to be verygood to her, poor dear."The last words, whispered with a little quiver in the voice, settledthe matter better than hours of talking, for girls are tenderheartedcreatures, and not one of these but would have gladly given all thepretty things she owned to see Jill dancing about well and strongagain. Like a ray of sunshine the kind thought touched andbrightened every face; envy, impatience, vanity, and discontentflew away like imps at the coming of the good fairy, and with oneaccord they all cried,"It will be lovely; let us go and tell her!"Forgetting their own adornment, out they trooped after Merry, whoran to the sofa, saying, with a smile which was reflected in all theother faces, "Jill, dear, we have chosen another Princess, and Iknow you'll like her.""Who is it?" asked Jill, languidly, opening her eyes without theleast suspicion of the truth.
　　"I'll show you"; and taking the cherished veil from her own head,Merry dropped it like a soft cloud over Jill; Annette added the longplume, Susy laid the white silk dress about her, while Juliet andMabel lifted the scarlet shawl to spread it over the foot of the sofa,and Molly tore the last ornament from her turban, a silver star, toshine on Jill's breast. Then they all took hands and danced roundthe couch, singing, as they laughed at her astonishment, "There sheis! There she is! Princess Jill as fine as you please!
　　"Do you really mean it? But can I? Is it fair? How sweet of you!
　　Come here and let me hug you all!" cried Jill, in a rapture at thesurprise, and the pretty way in which it was done.
　　The grand scene on the Twenty-second was very fine, indeed; butthe little tableau of that minute was infinitely better, though no onesaw it, as Jill tried to gather them all in her arms, for that nosegayof girlish faces was the sweeter, because each one bad sacrificedher own little vanity to please a friend, and her joy was reflected inthe eyes that sparkled round the happy Princess.
　　"Oh, you dear, kind things, to think of me and give me all yourbest clothes! I never shall forget it, and I'll do anything for you.
　　Yes! I'll write and ask Mrs. Piper to lend us her ermine cloak forthe king. See if I don't!"Shrieks of delight hailed this noble offer, for no one had dared toborrow the much-coveted mantle, but all agreed that the old ladywould not refuse Jill. It was astonishing how smoothly everythingwent after this, for each was eager to help, admire, and suggest, inthe friendliest way; and when all were dressed, the boys found aparty of very gay ladies waiting for them round the couch, wherelay the brightest little Princess ever seen.
　　"Oh, Jack, I'm to act! Wasn't it dear of the girls to choose me?
　　Don't they look lovely? Aren't you glad?" cried Jill, as the ladsstared and the lasses blushed and smiled, well pleased at the frankadmiration the boyish faces showed.
　　"I guess I am! You are a set of trumps, and we'll give you afirst-class spread after the play to pay for it. Won't we, fellows?"answered Jack, much gratified, and feeling that now he could acthis own part capitally.
　　"We will. It was a handsome thing to do, and we think well of youfor it. Hey, Gus?" and Frank nodded approvingly at all, though helooked only at Annette.
　　"As king of this crowd, I call it to order," said Gus, retiring to thethrone, where Juliet sat laughing in her red table-cloth.
　　"We'll have 'The Fair One with Golden Locks' next time; I promiseyou that," whispered Ed to Mabel, whose shining hair streamedover her blue dress like a mantle of gold-colored silk.
　　"Girls are pretty nice things, aren't they? Kind of 'em to take Jill in.
　　Don't Molly look fine, though?" and Grif's black eyes twinkled ashe planned to pin her skirts to Merry's at the first opportunity.
　　"Susy looks as gay as a feather-duster. I like her. She never snubs afellow," said Joe, much impressed with the splendor of the courtladies.
　　The boys' costumes were not yet ready, but they posed well, and allhad a merry time, ending with a game of blind-man's-buff, inwhich everyone caught the right person in the most singular way,and all agreed as they went home in the moonlight that it had beenan ususually jolly meeting.
　　So the fairy play woke the sleeping beauty that lies in all of us, andmakes us lovely when we rouse it with a kiss of unselfishgood-will, for, though the girls did not know it then, they hadadorned themselves with pearls more precious than the waxenones they'd ecked their Princess in.
Chapter 11
"Down Brakes"The greatest people have their weak points, and the best-behavedboys now and then yield to temptation and get into trouble, aseverybody knows. Frank was considered a remarkably well-bredand proper lad, and rather prided himself on his good reputation,for he never got into scrapes like the other fellows. Well, hardlyever, for we must confess that at rare intervals his besetting sinovercame his prudence, and he proved himself an erring, humanboy. Steam-engines had been his idols for years, and they alonecould lure him from the path of virtue. Once, in trying toinvestigate the mechanism of a toy specimen, which had its littleboiler and ran about whistling and puffing in the most delightfulway, he nearly set the house afire by the sparks that dropped on thestraw carpet. Another time, in trying experiments with the kitchentea-kettle, he blew himself up, and the scars of that explosion hestill carried on his hands.
　　He was long past such childish amusements now, but his favoritehaunt was the engine-house of the new railroad, where he observedthe habits of his pets with never-failing interest, and cultivated thegood-will of stokers and brakemen till they allowed him manyliberties, and were rather flattered by the admiration expressed fortheir iron horses by a young gentleman who liked them better eventhan his Greek and Latin.
　　There was not much business doing on this road as yet, and thetwo cars of the passenger-trains were often nearly empty, thoughfull freight-trains rolled from the factory to the main road, ofwhich this was only a branch. So things went on in a leisurelymanner, which gave Frank many opportunities of pursuing hisfavorite pastime. He soon knew all about No. ii, his pet engine,and had several rides on it with Bill, the engineer, so that he felt athome there, and privately resolved that when he was a rich man hewould have a road of his own, and run trains as often as he liked.
　　Gus took less interest than his friend in the study of steam, butusually accompanied him when he went over after school todisport himself in the engine-house, interview the stoker, or see ifthere was anything new in the way of brakes.
　　One afternoon they found No. 11 on the side-track, puffing awayas if enjoying a quiet smoke before starting. No cars were attached,and no driver was to be seen, for Bill was off with the other menbehind the station-house, helping the expressman, whose horse hadbacked down a bank and upset the wagon.
　　"Good chance for a look at the old lady," said Frank, speaking ofthe engine as Bill did, and jumping aboard with great satisfaction,followed by Gus.
　　"I'd give ten dollars if I could run her up to the bend and back," headded, fondly touching the bright brass knobs and glancing at thefire with a critical eye.
　　"You couldn't do it alone," answered Gus, sitting down on thegrimy little perch, willing to indulge his mate's amiable weakness.
　　"Give me leave to try? Steam is up, and I could do it as easy asnot"; and Frank put his hand on the throttle-valve, as if daring Gusto give the word.
　　"Fire up and make her hum!" laughed Gus, quoting Bill's frequentorder to his mate, but with no idea of being obeyed.
　　"All right; I'll just roll her up to the switch and back again. I'veoften done it with Bill"; and Frank cautiously opened thethrottle-valve, threw back the lever, and the great thing movedwith a throb and a puff.
　　"Steady, old fellow, or you'll come to grief. Here, don't open that!"shouted Gus, for just at that moment Joe appeared at the switch,looking ready for mischief.
　　"Wish he would; no train for twenty minutes, and we could run upto the bend as well as not," said Frank, getting excited with thesense of power, as the monster obeyed his hand so entirely that itwas impossible to resist prolonging the delight.
　　"By George, he has! Stop her! Back her! Hold on, Frank!" criedGus, as Joe, only catching the words "Open that!" obeyed, withoutthe least idea that they would dare to leave the siding.
　　But they did, for Frank rather lost his head for a minute, and outupon the main track rolled No. 11 as quietly as a well-trainedhorse taking a familiar road.
　　"Now you've done it! I'll give you a good thrashing when I getback!" roared Gus, shaking his fist at Joe, who stood staring,half-pleased, half-scared, at what he had done.
　　"Are you really going to try it?" asked Gus, as they glided on withincreasing speed, and he, too, felt the charm of such a noveladventure, though the consequences bid fair to be serious.
　　"Yes, I am," answered Frank, with the grim look he always worewhen his strong will got the upper hand. "Bill will give it to us,anyway, so we may as well have our fun out. If you are afraid, I'llslow down and you can jump off," and his brown eyes sparkledwith the double delight of getting his heart's desire and astonishinghis friend at the same time by his skill and coolness.
　　"Go ahead. I'll jump when you do"; and Gus calmly sat downagain, bound in honor to stand by his mate till the smash came,though rather dismayed at the audacity of the prank.
　　"Don't you call this just splendid?" exclaimed Frank, as they rolledalong over the crossing, past the bridge, toward the curve, a milefrom the station.
　　"Not bad. They are yelling like mad after us. Better go back, if youcan," said Gus, who was anxiously peering out, and, in spite of hisefforts to seem at ease, not enjoying the trip a particle.
　　"Let them yell. I started to go to the curve, and I'll do it if it costsme a hundred dollars. No danger; there's no train under twentyminutes, I tell you," and Frank pulled out his watch. But the sunwas in his eyes, and he did not see clearly, or he would havediscovered that it was later than he thought.
　　On they went, and were just rounding the bend when a shrillwhistle in front startled both boys, and drove the color out of theircheeks.
　　"It's the factory train!" cried Gus, in a husky tone, as he sprang tohis feet.
　　"No; it's the five-forty on the other road," answered Frank, with aqueer thrill all through him at the thought of what might happen ifit was not. Both looked straight ahead as the last tree glided by,and the long track lay before them, with the freight train slowlycoming down. For an instant, the boys stood as if paralyzed.
　　"Jump!" said Gus, looking at the steep bank on one side and theriver on the other, undecided which to try.
　　"Sit still!" commanded Frank, collecting his wits, as he gave awarning whistle to retard the on-coming train, while he reversedthe engine and went back faster than he came.
　　A crowd of angry men was waiting for them, and Bill stood at theopen switch in a towering passion as No. 11 returned to her placeunharmed, but bearing two pale and frightened boys, who steppedslowly and silently down, without a word to say for themselves,while the freight train rumbled by on the main track.
　　Frank and Gus never had a very clear idea as to what occurredduring the next few minutes, but vaguely remembered being wellshaken, sworn at, questioned, threatened with direful penalties,and finally ordered off the premises forever by the wrathfuldepot-master. Joe was nowhere to be seen, and as the two culpritswalked away, trying to go steadily, while their heads spun round,and all the strength seemed to have departed from their legs, Franksaid, in an exhausted tone,"Come down to the boat-house and rest a minute."Both were glad to get out of sight, and dropped upon the steps red,rumpled, and breathless, after the late exciting scene. Gusgenerously forebore to speak, though he felt that he was the leastto blame; and Frank, after eating a bit of snow to moisten his drylips, said, handsomely,"Now, don't you worry, old man. I'll pay the damages, for it wasmy fault. Joe will dodge, but I won't, so make your mind easy.
　　"We sha'n't hear the last of this in a hurry," responded Gus,relieved, yet anxious, as he thought of the reprimand his fatherwould give him.
　　"I hope mother won't hear of it till I tell her quietly myself. Shewill be so frightened, and think I'm surely smashed up, if she istold in a hurry"; and Frank gave a shiver, as all the danger he hadrun came over him suddenly.
　　"I thought we were done for when we saw that train. Guess weshould have been if you had not had your wits about you. I alwayssaid you were a cool one"; and Gus patted Frank's back with a lookof great admiration, for, now that it was all over, he considered it avery remarkable performance.
　　"Which do you suppose it will be, fine or imprisonment?" askedFrank, after sitting in a despondent attitude for a moment.
　　"Shouldn't wonder if it was both. Running off with an engine is nojoke, you know."'What did possess me to be such a fool?" groaned Frank, repenting,all too late, of yielding to the temptation which assailed him.
　　"Bear up, old fellow, I'll stand by you; and if the worst comes, I'llcall as often as the rules of the prison allow," said Gus,consolingly, as he gave his afflicted friend an arm, and theywalked away, both feeling that they were marked men from thatday forth.
　　Meantime, Joe, as soon as he recovered from the shock of seeingthe boys actually go off, ran away, as fast as his legs could carryhim, to prepare Mrs. Minot for the ioss of her son; for the idea oftheir coming safely back never occurred to him, his knowledge ofengines being limited. A loud ring at the bell brought Mrs. Pecq,who was guarding the house, while Mrs. Minot entertained aparlor full of company.
　　"Frank's run off with No. 11, and he'll be killed sure. Thought I'dcome up and tell you," stammered Joe, all out of breath andlooking wild.
　　He got no further, for Mrs. Pecq clapped one hand over his mouth,caught him by the collar with the other, and hustled him into theante-room before anyone else could hear the bad news.
　　"Tell me all about it, and don't shout. What's come to the boy?" shedemanded, in a tone that reduced Joe to a whisper at once.
　　"Go right back and see what has happened to him, then come andtell me quietly. I'll wait for you here. I wouldn't have his motherstartled for the world," said the good soul, when she knew all.
　　"Oh, I dar'sn't! I opened the switch as they told me to, and Bill willhalf kill me when he knows it!" cried Joe, in a panic, as the awfulconsequences of his deed rose before him, showing both boysmortally injured and several trains wrecked.
　　"Then take yourself off home and hold your tongue. I'll watch thedoor, for I won't have any more ridiculous boys tearing in todisturb my lady."Mrs. Pecq often called this good neighbor "my lady" whenspeaking of her, for Mrs. Minot was a true gentlewoman, andmuch pleasanter to live with than the titled mistress had been.
　　Joe scudded away as if the constable was after him, and presentlyFrank was seen slowly approaching with an unusually sober faceand a pair of very dirty hands.
　　"Thank heaven, he's safe!" and, softly opening the door, Mrs. Pecqactually hustled the young master into the ante-room asunceremoniously as she had hustled Joe.
　　"I beg pardon, but the parlor is full of company, and that fool of aJoe came roaring in with a cock-and-bull story that gave me quitea turn. What is it, Mr. Frank?" she asked eagerly, seeing thatsomething was amiss.
　　He told her in a few words, and she was much relieved to find thatno harm had been done.
　　"Ah, the danger is to come," said Frank, darkly, as be went away towash his hands and prepare to relate his misdeeds.
　　It was a very bad quarter of an hour for the poor fellow, who soseldom had any grave faults to confess; but he did it manfully, andhis mother was so grateful for the safety of her boy that she foundit difficult to be severe enough, and contented herself withforbidding any more visits to the too charming No. 11.
　　"What do you suppose will be done to me?" asked Frank, on whomthe idea of imprisonment had made a deep impression.
　　"I don't know, dear, but I shall go over to see Mr. Burton rightafter tea. He will tell us what to do and what to expect. Gus mustnot suffer for your fault.""He'll come off clear enough, but Joe must take his share, for if hehadn't opened that confounded switch, no harm would have beendone. But when I saw the way clear, I actually couldn't resist goingahead," said Frank, getting excited again at the memory of thatblissful moment when he started the engine.
　　Here Jack came hurrying in, having heard the news, and refused tobelieve it from any lips but Frank's. When he could no longerdoubt, he was so much impressed with the daring of the deed thathe had nothing but admiration for his brother, till a sudden thoughtmade him clap his hands and exclaim exultingly,"His runaway beats mine all hollow, and now he can't crow overme! Won't that be a comfort? The good boy has got into a scrape.
　　Hooray!"This was such a droll way of taking it, that they had to laugh; andFrank took his humiliation so meekly that Jack soon fell tocomforting him, instead of crowing over him.
　　Jill thought it a most interesting event; and, when Frank and hismother went over to consult Mr. Burton, she and Jack planned outfor the dear culprit a dramatic trial which would have convulsedthe soberest of judges. His sentence was ten years' imprisonment,and such heavy fines that the family would have been reduced tobeggary but for the sums made by Jill's fancy work and Jack'ssuccess as a champion pedestrian.
　　They found such comfort and amusement in this sensationalprogramme that they were rather disappointed when Frankreturned, reporting that a fine would probably be all the penaltyexacted, as no harm had been done, and he and Gus were suchrespectable boys. What would happen to Joe, he could not tell, buthe thought a good whipping ought to be added to his share.
　　Of course, the affair made a stir in the little world of children; andwhen Frank went to school, feeling that his character for goodbehavior was forever damaged, he found himself a lion, and was indanger of being spoiled by the admiration of his comrades, whopointed him out with pride as "the fellow who ran off with asteam-engine."But an interview with Judge Kemble, a fine of twenty-five dollars,and lectures from all the grown people of his acquaintance,prevented him from regarding his escapade as a feat to boast of.
　　He discovered, also, how fickle a thing is public favor, for verysoon those who had praised began to tease, and it took all hiscourage, patience, and pride to carry him through the next week ortwo. The lads were never tired of alluding to No. 11, giving shrillwhistles in his ear, asking if his watch was right, and drawinglocomotives on the blackboard whenever they got a chance.
　　The girls, too, had sly nods and smiles, hints and jokes of a mildersort, which made him color and fume, and once lose his dignityentirely. Molly Loo, who dearly loved to torment the big boys, anddared attack even solemn Frank, left one of Boo's old tin trains onthe door-step, directed to "Conductor Minot," who, I regret to say,could not refrain from kicking it into the Street, and slamming thedoor with a bang that shook the house. Shrieks of laughter fromwicked Molly and her coadjutor, Grif, greeted this explosion ofwrath, which did no good, however, for half an hour later the samecars, all in a heap, were on the steps again, with two headless dollstumbling out of the cab, and the dilapidated engine labelled, "No.
　　11 after the collision."No one ever saw that ruin again, and for days Frank was utterlyunconscious of Molly's existence, as propriety forbade his havingit out with her as he had with Grif. Then Annette made peacebetween them, and the approach of the Twenty-second gave thewags something else to think of.
　　But it was long before Frank forgot that costly prank; for he was athoughtful boy, who honestly wanted to be good; so heremembered this episode humbly, and whenever he felt theapproach of temptation he made the strong will master it, saying tohimself "Down brakes!" thus saving the precious freight he carriedfrom many of the accidents which befall us when we try to run ourtrains without orders, and so often wreck ourselves as well asothers.
Chapter 12
The Twenty-second of FebruaryOf course, the young ladies and gentlemen had a ball on theevening of that day, but the boys and girls were full of excitementabout their "Scenes from the Life of Washington and other brillianttableaux," as the programme announced. The Bird Room was thetheatre, being very large, with four doors conveniently placed.
　　Ralph was in his element, putting up a little stage, drilling boys,arranging groups, and uniting in himself carpenter, scene-painter,manager, and gas man. Mrs. Minot permitted the house to beturned topsy-turvy, and Mrs. Pecq flew about, lending a handeverywhere. Jill was costumer, with help from Miss Delano, whodid not care for balls, and kindly took charge of the girls. Jackprinted tickets, programmes, and placards of the most imposingsort, and the work went gayly on till all was ready.
　　When the evening came, the Bird Room presented a fineappearance. One end was curtained off with red drapery; and realfootlights, with tin shades, gave a truly theatrical air to the littlestage. Rows of chairs, filled with mammas and little people,occupied the rest of the space. The hall and Frank's room were fullof amused papas, uncles, and old gentlemen whose patriotismbrought them out in spite of rheumatism. There was a greatrustling of skirts, fluttering of fans, and much lively chat, till a bellrang and the orchestra struck up.
　　Yes, there really was an orchestra, for Ed declared that the nationalairs must be played, or the whole thing would be a failure. So hehad exerted himself to collect all the musical talent he could find,a horn, a fiddle, and a flute, with drum and fife for the martialscenes. Ed looked more beaming than ever, as he waved his batonand led off with Yankee Doodle as a safe beginning, for everyoneknew that. It was fun to see little Johnny Cooper bang away on abig drum, and old Mr. Munson, who had been a flEer all his days,blow till he was as red as a lobster, while everyone kept time to themusic which put them all in good spirits for the opening scene.
　　Up went the curtain and several trees in tubs appeared, then astately gentleman in small clothes, cocked hat, gray wig, and animposing cane, came slowly walking in. It was Gus, who had beenunanimously chosen not only for Washington but for the f ather ofthe hero also, that the family traits of long legs and a somewhatmassive nose might be preserved.
　　"Ahem! My trees are doing finely," observed Mr. W., senior,strolling along with his hands behind him, casting satisfied glancesat the dwarf orange, oleander, abutilon, and little pine thatrepresented his orchard.
　　Suddenly he starts, pauses, frowns, and, after examining the lattershrub, which displayed several hacks in its stem and a broken limbwith six red-velvet cherries hanging on it, he gave a thump withhis cane that made the little ones jump, and cried out,"Can it have been my son?"He evidently thought it was, for he called, in tones of thunder,"George! George Washington, come hither this moment!"Great suspense on the part of the audience, then a general burst oflaughter as Boo trotted in, a perfect miniature of his honoredparent, knee breeches, cocked hat, shoe buckles and all. He was sofat that the little tails of his coat stuck out in the drollest way, hischubby legs could hardly carry the big buckles, and the rosy facedisplayed, when he took his hat off with a dutiful bow, was sosolemn, the real George could not have looked more anxious whenhe gave the immortal answer.
　　"Sirrah, did you cut that tree?" demanded the papa, with anotherrap of the cane, and such a frown that poor Boo looked dismayed,till Molly wispered, "Put your hand up, dear." Then heremembered his part, and, putting one finger in his mouth, lookeddown at his square-toed shoes, the image of a shame-stricken boy.
　　"My son, do not deceive me. If you have done this deed I shallchastise you, for it is my duty not to spare the rod, lest I spoil thechild. But if you lie about it you disgrace the name of Washingtonforever."This appeal seemed to convulse George with inward agony, for hesquirmed most effectively as he drew from his pocket a toyhatchet, which would not have cut a straw, then looking straight upinto the awe-inspiring countenance of his parent, he bravely lisped,"Papa, I tannot tell a lie. I'd id tut it with my little hanchet.""Noble boy--come to my arms! I had rather you spoilt all mycherry trees than tell one lie!" cried the delighted gentleman,catching his son in an embrace so close that the fat legs kickedconvulsively, and the little coat-tails waved in the breeze, whilecane and hatchet fell with a dramatic bang.
　　The curtain descended on this affccting tableau; but the audiencecalled out both Washingtons, and they came, hand in hand, bowingwith the cocked hats pressed to their breasts, the elder smilingblandly, while the younger, still flushed by his exertions, nodded tohis friends, asking, with engaging frankness, "Wasn't it nice?"The next was a marine piece, for a boat was seen, surrounded bytumultuous waves of blue cambric, and rowed by a party ofstalwart men in regimentals, who with difficulty kept their seats,for the boat was only a painted board, and they sat on boxes orstools behind it. But few marked the rowers, for in their midst, tall,straight, and steadfast as a mast, stood one figure in a cloak, withfolded arms, high boots, and, under the turned-up hat, a noblecountenance, stern with indomitable courage. A sword glittered athis side, and a banner waved over him, but his eye was fixed onthe distant shore, and he was evidently unconscious of the roaringbillows, the blocks of ice, the discouragement of his men, or thedanger and death that might await him. Napoleon crossing theAlps was not half so sublime, and with one voice the audiencccried, 'Washington crossing the Delaware!" while the band burstforth with, "See, the conquering hero comes!" all out of tune, butbound to play it or die in the attempt.
　　It would have been very successful if, all of a sudden, one of therowers had not "caught a crab" with disastrous consequences. Theoars were not moving, but a veteran, who looked very much likeJoe, dropped the one he held, and in trying to turn and pummel theblack-eyed warrior behind him, he tumbled off his seat, upsettingtwo other men, and pulling the painted boat upon them as they laykicking in the cambric deep. Shouts of laughter greeted thismishap, but George Washington never stirred. Grasping thebanner, he stood firm when all else went down in the generalwreck, and the icy waves engulfed his gallant crew, leaving himerect amid a chaos of wildly tossing boots, entangled oars, andred-faced victims. Such god-like dignity could not fail to impressthe frivolous crowd of laughers, and the curtain fell amid a roundof applause for him alone.
　　"Quite exciting, wasn't it? Didn't know Gus had so much presenceof mind," said Mr. Burton, well pleased with his boy.
　　"If we did not know that Washington died in his bed, December14, 1799, I should fear that we'd seen the last of him in thatshipwreck," laughed an old gentleman, proud of his memory fordates.
　　Much confusion reigned behind the scenes; Ralph was heardscolding, and Joe set everyone off again by explaining, audibly,that Grif tickled him, and he couldn't stand it. A pretty,old-fashioned picture of the "Daughters of Liberty" followed, forthegirls were determined to do honor to the brave and patient womenwho so nobly bore their part in the struggle, yet are usuallyforgotten when those days are celebrated. The damsels werecharming in the big caps, flowered gowns, and high-heeled shoesof their great-grandmothers, as they sat about a spider-legged tabletalking over the tax, and pledging themselves to drink no more teatill it was taken off. Molly was on her feet proposing, "Libertyforever, and down with all tyrants," to judge from her flashing eyesas she held her egg-shell cup aloft, while the others lifted theirs todrink the toast, and Merry, as hostess, sat with her hand on anantique teapot, labelled "Sage," ready to fill again when thepatriotic ladies were ready for a second "dish."This was much applauded, and the curtain went up again, for theproud parents enjoyed seeing their pretty girls in the faded fineryof a hundred years ago. The band played "Auld Lang Syne," as agentle hint that our fore-mothers should be remembered as well asthe fore-fathers.
　　It was evident that something very martial was to follow, for agreat tramping, clashing, and flying about took place behind thescenes while the tea-party was going on. After some delay, "TheSurrender of Cornwallis" was presented in the most superbmanner, as you can believe when I tell you that the stage wasactually lined with a glittering array of Washington and hisgenerals, Lafayette, Kosciusko, Rochambeau and the rest, all inastonishing uniforms, with swords which were evidently the prideof their lives. Fife and drum struck up a march, and in cameCornwallis, much cast down but full of manly resignation, as hesurrendered his sword, and stood aside with averted eyes while hisarmy marched past, piling their arms at the hero's feet.
　　This scene was the delight of the boys, for the rifles of Company Fhad been secured, and at least a dozen soldiers kept filing in andout in British uniform till Washington's august legs were hidden bythe heaps of arms rattled down before him. The martial music, thesteady tramp, and the patriotic memories awakened, caused thisscene to be enthusiastically encored, and the boys would havegone on marching till midnight if Ralph had not peremptorilyordered down the curtain and cleared the stage for the nexttableau.
　　This had been artfully slipped in between two brilliant ones, toshow that the Father of his Country had to pay a high price for hisglory. The darkened stage represented what seemed to be a campin a snow-storm, and a very forlorn camp, too; for on "the cold,cold ground" (a reckless display of cotton batting) lay raggedsoldiers, sleeping without blankets, their worn-out boots turned uppathetically, and no sign of food or fire to be seen. A very shabbysentinel, with feet bound in bloody cloths, and his face as pale aschalk could make it, gnawed a dry crust as he kept his watch in thewintry night.
　　A tent at the back of the stage showed a solitary figure sitting on alog of wood, poring over the map spread upon his knee, by thelight of one candle stuck in a bottle. There could be no doubt whothis was, for the buff-and-blue coat, the legs, the nose, the attitude,all betrayed the great George laboring to save his country, in spiteof privations, discouragements, and dangers which would havedaunted any other man.
　　"Valley Forge," said someone, and the room was very still as oldand young looked silently at this little picture of a great and noblestruggle in one of its dark hours. The crust, the wounded feet, therags, the snow, the loneliness, the indomitable courage andendurance of these men touched the hearts of all, for the mimicscene grew real for a moment; and, when a child's voice broke thesilence, asking pitifully, "Oh, mamma, was it truly as dreadful asthat?" a general outburst answered, as if everyone wanted to cheerup the brave fellows and bid them fight on, for victory was surelycoming.
　　In the next scene it did come, and "Washington at Trenton" wasprettily done. An arch of flowers crossed the stage, with the motto,"The Defender of the Mothers will be the Preserver of theDaughters"; and, as the hero with his generals advanced on oneside, a troop of girls, in old-fashioned muslin frocks, came toscatter flowers before him, singing the song of long ago:
　　"Welcome, mighty chief, once moreWelcome to this grateful shore;Now no mercenary foeeyes as she held her egg-shell cup aloft, while the others liftedtheirs to drink the toast, and Merry, as hostess, sat with her handon an antique teapot, labelled "Sage," ready to fill again when thepatriotic ladies were ready for a second "dish."This was much applauded, and the curtain went up again, for theproud parents enjoyed seeing their pretty girls in the faded fineryof a hundred years ago. The band played "Auld Lang Syne," as agentle hint that our fore-mothers should be remembered as well asthe fore-fathers.
　　It was evident that something very martial was to follow, for agreat tramping, clashing, and flying about took place behind thescenes while the tea-party was going on. After some delay, "TheSurrender of Cornwallis" was presented in the most superbmanner, as you can believe when I tell you that the stage wasactually lined with a glittering array of Washington and hisgenerals, Lafayette, Kosciusko, Rochambeau and the rest, all inastonishing uniforms, with swords which were evidently the prideof their lives. Fife and drum struck up a march, and in cameCornwallis, much cast down but full of manly resignation, as hesurrendered his sword, and stood aside with averted eyes while hisarmy marched past, piling their arms at the hero's feet.
　　This scene was the delight of the boys, for the rifles of Company Fhad been secured, and at least a dozen soldiers kept filing in andout in British uniform till Washington's august legs were hidden bythe heaps of arms rattled down before him. The martial music, thesteady tramp, and the patriotic memories awakened, caused thisscene to be enthusiastically encored, and the boys would havegone on marching till midnight if Ralph had not peremptorilyordered down the curtain and cleared the stage for the nexttableau.
　　This had been artfully slipped in between two brilliant ones, toshow that the Father of his Country had to pay a high price for hisglory. The darkened stage represented what seemed to beAims again the fatal blow,Aims at thee the fatal blow.
　　"Virgins fair and matrons grave,Those thy conquering arm did save,Build for thee triumphal bowers;Strew, ye fair, his way with flowers,Strew your hero's -way with flowers."And they did, singing with all their hearts as they flung artificialroses and lilies at the feet of the great men, who bowed withbenign grace. Jack, who did Lafayette with a limp, covered himselfwith glory by picking up one of the bouquets and pressing it to hisheart with all the gallantry of a Frenchman; and when Washingtonlifted the smallest of the maids and kissed her, the audiencecheered. Couldn't help it, you know, it was so pretty and inspiring.
　　The Washington Family, after the famous picture, came next, withAnnette as the serene and sensible Martha, in a very becoming cap.
　　The General was in uniform, there being no time to change, but hisattitude was quite correct, and the Custis boy and girl displayed thewide sash and ruffled collar with historic fidelity. The band played"Home," and everyone agreed that it was "Sweet!""Now I don't see what more they can have except the deathbed,and that would be rather out of place in this gay company," saidthe old gentleman to Mr. Burton, as he mopped his heated faceafter pounding so heartily he nearly knocked the ferule off hiscane.
　　"No; they gave that up, for my boy wouldn't wear a night-gown inpublic. I can't tell secrets, but I think they have got a very cleverlittle finale for the first part--a pretty compliment to one personand a pleasant surprise to all," answered Mr. Burton, who was ingreat spirits, being fond of theatricals and very justly proud of hischildren, for the little girls had been among the Trenton maids, andthe mimic General had kissed his own small sister, Nelly, verytenderly.
　　A great deal of interest was felt as to what this surprise was to be,and a general "Oh!" greeted the "Minute Man," standingmotionless upon his pedestal. It was Frank, and Ralph had done hisbest to have the figure as perfect as possible, for the maker of theoriginal had been a good friend to him; and, while the youngsculptor was dancing gayly at the ball, this copy of his work wasdoing him honor among the children. Frank looked it very well, forhis firm-set mouth was full of resolution, his eyes shone keen andcourageous under the three-cornered hat, and the muscles stoodout upon the bare arm that clutched the old gun. Even the buttonson the gaiters seemed to flash defiance, as the sturdy legs took thefirst step from the furrow toward the bridge where the youngfarmer became a hero when he "fired the shot heard 'round theworld.""That is splendid!" "As like to the original as flesh can be tobronze." "How still he stands!" "He'll fight when the time comes,and die hard, won't he?" "Hush! You make the statue blush!" Thesevery audible remarks certainly did, for the color rose visibly as themodest lad heard himself praised, though he saw but one face inall the crowd, his mother's, far back, but full of love and pride, asshe looked up at her young minute man waiting for the battlewhich often calls us when we least expect it, and for which shehad done her best to make him ready.
　　If there had been any danger of Frank being puffed up by thesuccess of his statue, it was counteracted by irrepressible Grif,who, just at the most interesting moment, when all were gazingsilently, gave a whistle, followed by a "Choo, choo, choo!" and"All aboard!" so naturally that no one could mistake the joke,especially as another laughing voice added, "Now, then, No. 11!"which brought down the house and the curtain too.
　　Frank was so angry, it was very difficult to keep him on his perchfor the last scene of all. He submitted, however, rather than spoilthe grand finale, hoping that its beauty would efface that ill-timedpleasantry from the public mind. So, when the agreeable clamor ofhands and voices called for a repetition, the Minute Manreappeared, grimmer than before. But not alone, for grouped allabout his pedestal were Washington and his generals, the matronsand maids, with a background of troops shouldering arms, Grif andJoe doing such rash things with their muskets, that more than onehero received a poke in his august back. Before the full richness ofthis picture had been taken in, Ed gave a rap, and all burst out with"Hail Columbia," in such an inspiring style that it was impossiblefor the audience to refrain from joining, which they did, allstanding and all singing with a heartiness that made the walls ring.
　　The fife shrilled, the horn blew sweet and clear, the fiddle wasnearly drowned by the energetic boom of the drum, and out intothe starry night, through open windows, rolled the song that stirsthe coldest heart with patriotic warmth and tunes every voice tomusic.
　　"'America!' We must have 'America!' Pipe up, Ed, this is too goodto end without one song more," cried Mr. Burton, who had beensinging like a trumpet; and, hardly waiting to get their breath, offthey all went again with the national hymn, singing as they neverhad sung it before, for somehow the little scenes they had justacted or beheld seemed to show how much this dear America ofours had cost in more than one revolution, how full of courage,energy, and virtue it was in spite of all its faults, and what aprivilege, as well as duty, it was for each to do his part toward itssafety and its honor in the present, as did those brave men andwomen in the past.
　　So the "Scenes from the Life of Washington" were a great success,and, when the songs were over, people were glad of a brief recesswhile they had raptures, and refreshed themselves with lemonade.
　　The girls had kept the secret of who the "Princess" was to be, and,when the curtain rose, a hum of surprise and pleasure greeted thepretty group. Jill lay asleep in all her splendor, the bonny "Prince"just lifting the veil to wake her with a kiss, and all about them thecourt in its nap of a hundred years. The "King" and "Queen"dozing comfortably on the throne; the maids of honor, like agarland of nodding flowers, about the couch; the little page,unconscious of the blow about to fall, and the fool dreaming, withhis mouth wide open.
　　It was so pretty, people did not tire of looking, till Jack's lame legbegan to tremble, and he whispered: "Drop her or I shall pitch."Down went the curtain; but it rose in a moment, and there was thecourt after the awakening: the "King" and "Queen" looking aboutthem with sleepy dignity, the maids in various attitudes of surprise,the fool grinning from ear to ear, and the "Princess" holding outher hand to the "Prince," as if glad to welcome the right loverwhen he came at last.
　　Molly got the laugh this time, for she could not resist giving poorBoo the cuff which had been hanging over him so long. She gave itwith unconscious energy, and Boo cried "Ow!" so naturally that allthe children were delighted and wanted it repeated. But Boodeclined, and the scenes which followed were found quite as muchto their taste, having been expressly prepared for the little people.
　　Mother Goose's Reception was really very funny, for Ralph wasthe old lady, and had hired a representation of the immortal birdfrom a real theatre for this occasion. There they stood, the dame inher pointed hat, red petticoat, cap, and cane, with the noble fowl, agood deal larger than life, beside her, and Grif inside, enjoyinghimself immensely as he flapped the wings, moved the yellowlegs, and waved the long neck about, while unearthly quacksissued from the bill. That was a great surprise for the children, andthey got up in their seats to gaze their fill, many of them firmlybelieving that they actually beheld the blessed old woman whowrote the nursery songs they loved so well.
　　Then in came, one after another, the best of the characters she hasmade famous, while a voice behind the scenes sang the properrhyme as each made their manners to the interesting pair.
　　"Mistress Mary," and her "pretty maids all in a row," passed by totheir places in the background; "King Cole" and his "fiddlersthree" made a goodly show; so did the royal couple, who followedthe great pie borne before them, with the "four-and-twentyblackbirds" popping their heads out in the most delightful way.
　　Little "Bo-Peep" led a wooiiy lamb and wept over its lost tail, fornot a sign of one appeared on the poor thing. "Simple Simon"followed the pie-man, gloating over his wares with the drollestantics. The little wife came trundling by in a wheelbarrow and wasnot upset; neither was the lady with "rings on her fingers and bellson her toes," as she cantered along on a rocking-horse. "BobbyShafto's" yellow hair shone finely as he led in the maid whom hecame back from sea to marry. "Miss Muffet," bowl in hand, ranaway from an immense black spider, which waggled its long legsin a way so life-like that some of the children shook in their littleshoes. The beggars who came to town were out in full force, "rags,tags, and velvet gowns," quite true to life. "Boy Blue" rubbed hiseyes, with hay sticking in his hair, and tooted on a tin horn as ifbound to get the cows out of the corn. Molly, with a long-handledfrying-pan, made a capital "Queen," in a tucked-up gown, checkedapron, and high crown, to good "King Arthur," who, very properly,did not appear after stealing the barley-meal, which might be seenin the pan tied up in a pudding, like a cannon-ball, ready to fry.
　　But Tobias, Molly's black cat, covered himself with glory by thespirit with which he acted his part in,"Sing, sing, what shall I sing?
　　The cat's run away with the pudding-bag string."First he was led across the stage on his hind legs, looking veryfierce and indignant, with a long tape trailing behind him; and,being set free at the proper moment, he gave one bound over thefour-and-twenty blackbirds who happened to be in the way, anddashed off as if an enraged cook had actually been after him,straight downstairs to the coal-bin, where he sat glaring in thedark, till the fun was over.
　　When all the characters had filed in and stood in two long rows,music struck up and they'd anced, "All the way to Boston," asimple but lively affair, which gave each a chance to show his orher costume as they pranced down the middle and up outside.
　　Such a funny medley as it was, for there went fat "King Cole" withthe most ragged of the beggar-maids. "Mistress Mary," in herpretty blue dress, tripped along with "Simple Simon" staring abouthim like a blockhead. The fine lady left her horse to dance with"Bobby Shafto" till every bell on her slippers tinkled its tongueout. "Bo-Peep" and a jolly fiddler skipped gayly up and down.
　　"Miss Muffet" took the big spider for her partner, and made hismany legs fly about in the wildest way. The little wife got out ofthe wheelbarrow to help "Boy Blue" along, and Molly, with thefrying-pan over her shoulder, led off splendidly when it was"Grand right and left."But the old lady and her goose were the best of all, for the dame'sshoes-buckles cut the most astonishing pigeon-wings, and to seethat mammoth bird waddle down the middle with its wings halfopen, its long neck bridling, and its yellow legs in the first positionas it curtsied to its partner, was a sight to remember, it was sointensely funny.
　　The merry old gentleman laughed till he cried; Mr. Burton split hisgloves, he applauded so enthusiastically; while the children beatthe dust out of the carpet hopping up and down, as they cried: "Doit again!" "We want it all over!" when the curtain went down at laston the flushed and panting party, Mother G----bowing, with her hatall awry, and the goose doing a double shuffle as if it did not knowhow to leave off.
　　But they could not "do it all over again," for it was growing late,and the people felt that they certainly had received their money'sworth that evening.
　　So it all ended merrily, and when the guests departed the boyscleared the room like magic, and the promised supper to the actorswas served in handsome style. Jack and Jill were at one end, Mrs.
　　Goose and her bird at the other, and all between was a comicalcollection of military heroes, fairy characters, and nurserycelebrities. All felt the need of refreshment after their labors, andswept over the table like a flight of locusts, leaving devastationbehind. But they had earned their fun: and much innocent jollityprevailed, while a few lingering papas and mammas watched therevel from afar, and had not the heart to order these noble beingshome till even the Father of his Country declared "that he'd had aperfectly splendid time, but couldn't keep his eyes open anotherminute," and very wisely retired to replace the immortal cockedhat with a night-cap.
Chapter 13
Jack Has a Mystery"What is the matter? Does your head ache?" asked Jill, oneevening in March, observing that Jack sat with his head in hishands, an attitude which, with him, meant either pain orperplexity.
　　"No; but I'm bothered. I want some money, and I don't see how Ican earn it," he answered, tumbling his hair about, and frowningdarkly at the fire.
　　"How much?" and Jill's ready hand went to the pocket where herlittle purse lay, for she felt rich with several presents lately madeher.
　　"Two seventy-five. No, thank you, I won't borrow.""What is it for?""Can't tell.""Why, I thought you told me everything.""Sorry, but I can't this time. Don't you worry; I shall think ofsomething.""Couldn't your mother help?""Don't wish to ask her.""Why! can't she know?""Nobody can.""How queer! Is it a scrape, Jack?" asked Jill, looking as curious asa magpie.
　　"It is likely to be, if I can't get out of it this week, somehow.""Well, I don't see how I can help if I'm not to know anything"; andJill seemed rather hurt.
　　"You can just stop asking questions, and tell me how a fellow canearn some money. That would help. I've got one dollar, but I musthave some more"; and Jack looked worried as he fingered the littlegold dollar on his watch-guard.
　　"Oh, do you mean to use that?""Yes, I do; a man must pay his debts if he sells all he has to do it,"said Jack sternly.
　　"Dear me; it must be something very serious." And Jill lay quitestill for five minutes, thinking over all the ways in which Jack everdid earn money, for Mrs. Minot liked to have her boys work, andpaid them in some way for all they did.
　　"Is there any wood to saw?" she asked presently, being veryanxious to help.
　　"All done." "Paths to shovel?""NO snow. "Lawn to rake, then?""Not time for that yet.""Catalogue of books?""Frank got that job.""Copy those letters for your mother?""Take me too long. Must have my money Friday, if possible.""I don't see what we can do, then. It is too early or too late foreverything, and you won't borrow.""Not of you. No, nor of anyone else, if I can possibly help it. I'vepromised to do this myself, and I will"; and Jack wagged his headresolutely.
　　"Couldn't you do something with the printing-press? Do me somecards, and then, perhaps, the other girls will want some," said Jill,as a forlorn hope.
　　"Just the thing! What a goose I was not to think of it. I'll rig the oldmachine up at once." And, starting from his seat, Jack dived intothe big closet, dragged out the little press, and fell to oiling,dusting, and putting it in order, like one relieved of a great anxiety.
　　"Give me the types; I'll sort them and set up my name, so you canbegin as soon as you are ready. You know what a help I was whenwe did the programmes. I'm almost sure the girls will want cards,and I know your mother would like some more tags," said Jill,briskly rattling the letters into the different compartments, whileJack inked the rollers and hunted up his big apron, whistling thewhile with recovered spirits.
　　A dozen neat cards were soon printed, and Jill insisted on payingsix cents for them, as earning was not borrowing. A few odd tagswere found and done for Mamma, who immediately ordered fourdozen at six cents a dozen, though she was not told why there wassuch a pressing call for money.
　　Jack's monthly half-dollar had been spent the first weektwenty-five cents for a concert, ten paid a fine for keeping a booktoo long from the library, ten more to have his knife ground, andfive in candy, for he dearly loved sweeties, and was under bonds toMamma not to spend more than five cents a month on theseunwholesome temptations. She never asked the boys what they didwith their money, but expected them to keep account in the littlebooks she gave them; and, now and then, they showed the neatpages with pardonable pride, though she often laughed at the queeritems.
　　All that evening Jack & Co. worked busily, for when Frank camein he good-naturedly ordered some pale-pink cards for Annette,and ran to the store to choose the right shade, and buy somepackages for the young printer also.
　　"What do you suppose he is in such a pucker for?" whispered Jill,as she set up the new name, to Frank, who sat close by, with oneeye on his book and one on her.
　　"Oh, some notion. He's a queer chap; but I guess it isn't much of ascrape, or I should know it. He's so good-natured he's alwayspromising to do things for people, and has too much pluck to giveup when he finds he can't. Let him alone, and it will all come outsoon enough," answered Frank, who laughed at his brother, butloved him none the less for the tender heart that often got thebetter of his young head.
　　But for once Frank was mistaken; the mystery did not come out,and Jack worked like a beaver all that week, as orders poured inwhen Jill and Annette showed their elegant cards; for, aseverybody knows, if one girl has a new thing all the rest must,whether it is a bow on the top of her head, a peculiar sort of pencil,or the latest kind of chewing-gum. Little play did the poor fellowget, for every spare minute was spent at the press, and noinvitation could tempt him away, so much in earnest was ourhonest little Franklin about paying his debt. Jill helped all shecould, and cheered his labors with her encouragement,remembering how he stayed at home for her.
　　"It is real good of you to lend a hand, and I'm ever so muchobliged," said Jack, as the last order was struck off, and the drawerof the type-box held a pile of shining five and ten cent pieces, withtwo or three quarters.
　　"I love to; only it would be nicer if I knew what we were workingfor," she said demurely, as she scattered type for the last time; andseeing that Jack was both tired and grateful, hoped to get a hint ofthe secret.
　　"I want to tell you, dreadfully; but I can't, because I've promised.""What, never?""Never!" and Jack looked as firm as a rock.
　　"Then I shall find out, for I haven't promised.""You can't.""See if I don't!""You are sharp, but you won't guess this. It's a tremendous secret,and nobody will tell it.""You'll tell it yourself. You always do.""I won't tell this. It would be mean.""Wait and see; I can get anything out of you if I try"; and Jilllaughed, knowing her power well, for Jack found it very hard tokeep a secret from her.
　　"Don't try; please don't! It wouldn't be right, and you don't want tomake me do a dishonorable thing for your sake, I know."Jack looked so distressed that Jill promised not to make him tell,though she held herself free to find out in other ways, if she could.
　　Thus relieved, Jack trudged off to school on Friday with the twodollars and seventy-five cents jingling in his pocket, though thedear gold coin had to be sacrificed to make up the sum. He did hislessons badly that day, was late at recess in the afternoon, and, assoon as school was over, departed in his rubber boots "to take awalk," he said, though the roads were in a bad state with a springthaw. Nothing was seen of him till after tea-time, when he camelimping in, very dirty and tired, but with a reposeful expression,which betrayed that a load was off his mind. Frank was busy abouthis own affairs and paid little attention to him, but Jill was ontenter-hooks to know where he had been, yet dared not ask thequestion.
　　"Merry's brother wants some cards. He liked hers so much hewishes to make his lady-love a present. Here's the name"; and Jillheld up the order from Harry Grant, who was to be married in theautumn.
　　"Must wait till next week. I'm too tired to do a thing to-night, and Ihate the sight of that old press," answered Jack, laying himselfdown upon the rug as if every joint ached.
　　"What made you take such a long walk? You look as tired as ifyou'd been ten miles," said Jill, hoping to discover the length of thetrip.
　　"Had to. Four or five miles isn't much, only my leg bothered me";and Jack gave the ailing member a slap, as if he had found it muchin his way that day; for, though he had given up the crutches longago, he rather missed their support sometimes. Then, with a greatyawn, he stretched himself out to bask in the blaze, pillowing hishead on his arms.
　　"Dear old thing, he looks all used up; I won't plague him withtalking"; and Jill began to sing, as she often did in the twilight.
　　By the time the first song ended a gentle snore was heard, and Jacklay fast asleep, worn out with the busy week and the walk, whichhad been longer and harder than anyone guessed. Jill took up herknitting and worked quietly by firelight, still wondering andguessing what the secret could be; for she had not much to amuseher, and little things were very interesting if connected with herfriends. Presently Jack rolled over and began to mutter in his sleep,as he often did when too weary for sound slumber. Jill paid noattention till he uttered a name which made her prick up her earsand listen to the hroken sentences which followed. Only a fewwords, but she dropped her work, saying to herself,"I do believe he is talking about the secret. Now I shall find out,and he will tell me himself, as I said he would."Much pleased, she leaned and listened, but could make no sense ofthe confused babble about "heavy boots"; "All right, old fellow";"Jerry's off"; and "The ink is too thick."The slam of the front door woke Jack, and he pulled himself up,declaring that he believed he had been having a nap.
　　"I wish you'd have another," said Jill, greatly disappointed at theloss of the intelligence she seemed to be so near getting.
　　"Floor is too hard for tired bones. Guess I'll go to bed and getrested up for Monday. I've worked like fury this week, so nextI'm going in for fun"; and, little dreaming what hard times were instore for him, Jack went off to enjoy his warm bath and welcomebed, where he was soon sleeping with the serene look of onewhose dreams were happy, whose conscience was at rest.
　　"I have a few words to say to you before you go," said Mr. Acton,pausing with his hand on the bell, Monday afternoon, when thehour came for dismissing school.
　　The bustle of putting away books and preparing for as rapid adeparture as propriety allowed, subsided suddenly, and the boysand girls sat as still as mice, while the hearts of such as had beenguilty of any small sins began to beat fast.
　　"You remember that we had some trouble last winter aboutkeeping the boys away from the saloon, and that a rule was madeforbidding any pupil to go to town during recess?" began Mr.
　　Acton, who, being a conscientious man as well as an excellentteacher, felt that he was responsible for the children in schoolhours, and did his best to aid parents in guarding them from thefew temptations which beset them in a country town. A certainattractive little shop, where confectionery, baseballs, stationery,and picture papers were sold, was a favorite loafing place for someof the boys till the rule forbidding it was made, because in the rearof the shop was a beer and billiard saloon. A wise rule, for thepicture papers were not always of the best sort; cigars were to behad; idle fellows hung about there, and some of the lads, whowanted to be thought manly, ventured to pass the green baize door"just to look on."A murmur answered the teacher's question, and he continued,"You all know that the rule was broken several times, and I toldyou the next offender would be publicly reprimanded, as privatepunishments had no effect. I am sorry to say that the time hascome, and the offender is a boy whom I trusted entirely. It grievesme to do this, but I must keep my promise, and hope the examplewill have a good effect."Mr. Acton paused, as if he found it hard to go on, and the boyslooked at one another with inquiring eyes, for their teacher seldompunished, and when he did, it was a very solemn thing. Several ofthese anxious glances fell upon Joe, who was very red and satwhittling a pencil as if he dared not lift his eyes.
　　"He's the chap. Won't he catch it?" whispered Gus to Frank, forboth owed him a grudge.
　　"The boy who broke the rule last Friday, at afternoon recess, willcome to the desk," said Mr. Acton in his most impressive manner.
　　If a thunderbolt had fallen through the roof it would hardly havecaused a greater surprise than the sight of Jack Minot walkingslowly down the aisle, with a wrathful flash in the eyes he turnedon Joe as he passed him.
　　"Now, Minot, let us have this over as soon as possible, for I do notlike it any better than you do, and I am sure there is some mistake.
　　I'm told you went to the shop on Friday. Is it true?" asked Mr.
　　Acton very gently, for he liked Jack and seldom had to correct himin any way.
　　"Yes, sir"; and Jack looked up as if proud to show that he was notafraid to tell the truth as far as he could.
　　"To buy somethin?""No, sir.""To meet someone?""Yes, sir.""Was it Jerry Shannon?"No answer, but Jack's fists doubled up of themselves as he shotanother fiery glance at Joe, whose face burned as if it scorchedhim.
　　"I am told it was; also that you were seen to go into the saloonwith him. Did you?" and Mr. Acton looked so sure that it was amistake that it cost Jack a great effort to say, slowly,"Yes, sir."Quite a thrill pervaded the school at this confession, for Jerry wasone of the wild fellows the boys all shunned, and to have anydealings with him was considered a very disgraceful thing.
　　"Did you play?""No, sir. I can't.""Drink beer?""I belong to the Lodge"; and Jack stood as erect as any little soldierwho ever marched under a temperance banner, and fought for thecause none are too young nor too old to help along.
　　"I was sure of that. Then what took you there, my boy?"The question was so kindly put that Jack forgot himself an instant,and blurted out,"I only went to pay him some money, sir.""Ah, how much?""Two seventy-five," muttered Jack, as red as a cherry at not beingable to keep a secret better.
　　"Too much for a lad like you to owe such a fellow as Jerry. Howcame it?" And Mr. Acton looked disturbed.
　　Jack opened his lips to speak, but shut them again, and stoodlooking down with a little quiver about the mouth that showedhow much it cost him to be silent.
　　"Does anyone beside Jerry know of this?""One other fellow," after a pause.
　　"Yes, I understand"; and Mr. Acton's eye glanced at Joe with alook that seemed to say, "I wish he'd held his tongue."A queer smile flitted over Jack's face, for Joe was not the "otherfellow," and knew very little about it, excepting what he had seenwhen he was sent on an errand by Mr. Acton on Friday.
　　"I wish you would explain the matter, John, for I am sure it isbetter than it seems, and it would be very hard to punish you whenyou don't deserve it.""But I do deserve it; I've broken the rule, and I ought to bepunished," said Jack, as if a good whipping would be easier to bearthan this public cross-examination.
　　"And you can't explain, or even say you are sorry or ashamed?"asked Mr. Acton, hoping to surprise another fact out of the boy.
　　"No, sir; I can't; I'm not ashamed; I'm not sorry, and I'd do it againto-morrow if I had to," cried Jack, losing patience, and looking asif he would not bear much more.
　　A groan from the boys greeted this bare-faced declaration, andSusy quite shivered at the idea of having taken two bites out of theapple of such a hardened desperado.
　　"Think it over till to-morrow, and perhaps you will change yourmind. Remember that this is the last week of the month, andreports are given out next Friday," said Mr. Acton, knowing howmuch the boy prided himself on always having good ones to showhis mother.
　　Poor Jack turned scarlet and bit his lips to keep them still, for hehad forgotten this when he plunged into the affair which was likelyto cost him dear. Then the color faded away, the boyish face grewsteady, and the honest eyes looked up at his teacher as he said veryiow, but all heard him, the room was so still,"It isn't as bad as it looks, sir, but I can't say any more. No one is toblame but me; and I couldn't help breaking the rule, for Jerry wasgoing away, I had only that time, and I'd promised to pay up, so Idid."Mr. Acton believed every word he said, and regretted that they hadnot been able to have it out privately, but he, too, must keep hispromise and punish the offender, whoever he was.
　　"Very well, you will lose your recess for a week, and this month'sreport will be the first one in which behavior does not get thehighest mark. You may go; and I wish it understood that MasterMinot is not to be troubled with questions till he chooses to set thismatter right."Then the bell rang, the children trooped out, Mr. Acton went offwithout another word, and Jack was left alone to put up his booksand hide a few tears that would come because Frank turned hiseyes away from the imploring look cast upon him as the culpritcame down from the platform, a disgraced boy.
　　Elder brothers are apt to be a little hard on younger ones, so it isnot surprising that Frank, who was an eminently proper boy, wasmuch cut up when Jack publicly confessed to dealings with Jerry,leaving it to be supposed that the worst half of the story remaineduntold. He felt it his duty, therefore, to collar poor Jack when hecame out, and talk to him all the way home, like a judge bent ongetting at the truth by main force. A kind word would have beenvery comforting, but the scolding was too much for Jack's temper,so he turned dogged and would not say a word, though Frankthreatened not to speak to him for a week.
　　At tea-time both boys were very silent, one looking grim, the otherexcited. Frank stared sternly at his brother across the table, and noamount of marmalade sweetened or softened that reproachful look.
　　Jack defiantly crunched his toast, with occasional slashes at thebutter, as if he must vent the pent-up emotions which halfdistracted him. Of course, their mother saw that something wasamiss, but did not allude to it, hoping that the cloud would blowover as so many did if left alone. But this one did not, and whenboth refused cake, this sure sign of unusual perturbation made heranxious to know the cause. As soon as tea was over, Jack retiredwith gloomy dignity to his own room, and Frank, casting away thepaper he had been pretending to read, burst out with the wholestory. Mrs. Minot was as much surprised as he, but not angry,because, like most mothers, she was sure that her sons could notdo anything very bad.
　　"I will speak to him; my boy won't refuse to give me someexplanation," she said, when Frank had freed his mind with asmuch warmth as if Jack had broken all the ten commandments.
　　"He will. You often call me obstinate, but he is as pig-headed as amule; Joe only knows what he saw, old tell-tale! and Jerry has lefttown, or I'd have it out of him. Make Jack own up, whether he canor not. Little donkey!" stormed Frank, who hated rowdies andcould not forgive his brother for being seen with one.
　　"My dear, all boys do foolish things sometimes, even the Wisestand best behaved, so don't be hard on the poor child. He has gotinto trouble, I've no doubt, but it cannot be very bad, and he earnedthe money to pay for his prank, whatever it was."Mrs. Minot left the room as she spoke, and Frank cooled down asif her words had been a shower-bath, for he remembered his owncostly escapade, and how kindly both his mother and Jack hadstood by him on that trying occasion. So, feeling rather remorseful,he went off to talk it over with Gus, leaving Jill in a fever ofcuriosity, for Merry and Molly had dropped in on their way hometo break the blow to her, and Frank declined to discuss it with her,after mildly stating that Jack was "a ninny," in his opinion.
　　"Well, I know one thing," said Jill confidentially to Snow-ball,when they were left alone together, "if everyone else is scoldinghim I won't say a word. It's so mean to crow over people when theyare down, and I'm sure he hasn't done anything to be ashamed of,though he won't tell."Snow-ball seemed to agree to this, for he went and sat down byJack's slippers waiting for him on the hearth, and Jill thought that avery touching proof of affectionate fidelity to the little master whoruled them both.
　　When he came, it was evident that he had found it harder to refusehis mother than all the rest. But she trusted him in spite ofappearances, and that was such a comfort! For poor Jack's heartwas very full, and he longed to tell the whole story, but he wouldnot break his promise, and so kept silence bravely. Jill asked noquestions, affecting to be anxious for the games they alwaysplayed together in the evening, but while they played, though thelips were sealed, the bright eyes said as plainly as words, "I trustyou," and Jack was very grateful.
　　It was well he had something to cheer him up at home, for he gotlittle peace at school. He bore the grave looks of Mr. Actonmeekly, took the boys' jokes good-naturedly, and withstood theartful teasing of the girls with patient silence. But it was very hardfor the social, affectionate fellow to bear the general distrust, forhe had been such a favorite he felt the change keenly.
　　But the thing that tried him most was the knowledge that his reportwould not be what it usually was. It was always a happy momentwhen he showed it to his mother, and saw her eye brighten as itfell on the 99 or moo, for she cared more for good behavior thanfor perfect lessons. Mr. Acton once said that Frank Minot's moralinfluence in the school was unusual, and Jack never forgot herpride and delight as she told them what Frank himself had notknown till then. It was Jack's ambition to have the same said ofhim, for he was not much of a scholar, and he had tried hard sincehe went back to school to get good records in that respect at least.
　　Now here was a dreadful downfall, tardy marks, bad company,broken rules, and something too wrong to tell, apparently.
　　'Well, I deserve a good report, and that's a comfort, though nobodybelieves it," he said to himself, trying to keep up his spirits, as theslow week went by, and no word from him had cleared up themystery.
Chapter 14
And Jill Finds it outJill worried about it more than he did, for she was a faithful littlefriend, and it was a great trial to have Jack even suspected of doinganything wrong. School is a child's world while he is there, and itssmall affairs are very important to him, so Jill felt that the onething to be done was to clear away the cloud about her dear boy,and restore him to public favor.
　　"Ed will be here Saturday night and maybe he will find out, forJack tells him everything. I do hate to have him hectored so, for Iknow he is, though he's too proud to complain," she said, onThursday evening, when Frank told her some joke played upon hisbrother that day.
　　"I let him alone, but I see that he isn't badgered too much. That'sall I can do. If Ed had only come home last Saturday it might havedone some good, but now it will be too late; for the reports aregiven out to-morrow, you know," answered Frank, feeling a littlejealous of Ed's influence over Jack, though his own would havebeen as great if he had been as gentle.
　　"Has Jerry come back?" asked Jill, who kept all her questions forFrank, because she seldom alluded to the tender subject when withJack.
　　"No, he's off for the summer. Got a place somewhere. Hope he'llstay there and let Bob alone.""Where is Bob now? I don't hear much about him lately," said Jill,who was constantly on the lookout for "the other fellow," since itwas not Joe.
　　"Oh, he went to Captain Skinner's the first of March, chores round,and goes to school up there. Captain is strict, and won't let Bobcome to town, except Sundays; but he don't mind it much, for helikes horses, has nice grub, and the Hill fellows are good chaps forhim to be with. So he's all right, if he only behaves.""How far is it to Captain Skinner's?" asked Jill suddenly, havinglistened, with her sharp eyes on Frank, as he tinkered away at hismodel, since he was forbidden all other indulgence in his belovedpastime.
　　"It's four miles to Hill District, but the Captain lives this side of theschool-house. About three from here, I should say.""How long would it take a boy to walk up there?" went on thequestioner, with a new idea in her head.
　　"Depends on how much of a walkist he is.""Suppose he was lame and it was sloshy, and he made a call andcame back. How long would that take?" asked Jill impatiently.
　　"Well, in that case, I should say two or three hours. But it'simpossible to tell exactly, unless you know how lame the fellowwas, and how long a call he made," said Frank, who liked to beaccurate.
　　"Jack couldn't do it in less, could he?""He used to run up that hilly road for a breather, and think nothingof it. It would be a long job for him now, poor little chap, for hisleg often troubles him, though he hates to own it."Jill lay back and laughed, a happy little laugh, as if she waspleased about something, and Frank looked over his shoulder toask questions in his turn.
　　"What are you laughing at?""Can't tell.""Why do you want to know about Hill District? Are you goingthere?""Wish I could! I'd soon have it out of him.""Who?""Never mind. Please push up my table. I must write a letter, and Iwant you to post it for me to-night, and never say a word till I giveyou leave.
　　"Oh, now you are going to have secrets and be mysterious, and getinto a mess, are you?" and Frank looked down at her with asuspicious air, though he was intensely curious to know what shewas about.
　　"Go away till I'm done. You will have to see the outside, but youcan't know the inside till the answer comes"; and propping herselfup, Jill wrote the following note, with some hesitation at thebeginning and end, for she did not know the gentleman she wasaddressing, except by sight, and it was rather awkward:
　　"Robert Walker"Dear Sir, I want to ask if Jack Minot came to see you last Fridayafternoon. He got into trouble being seen with Jerry Shannon. Hepaid him some money. Jack won't tell, and Mr. Acton talked tohim about it before all the school. We feel bad, because we thinkJack did not do wrong. I don't know as you have anything to dowith it, but I thought I'd ask. Please answer quick. Respectfullyyours,Jane Pecq"To make sure that her despatch was not tampered with, Jill put agreat splash of red sealing-wax on it, which gave it a very officiallook, and much impressed Bob when he received it.
　　"There! Go and post it, and don't let anyone see or know about it,"she said, handing it over to Frank, who left his work with unusualalacrity to do her errand. When his eye fell on the address, helaughed, and said in a teasing way,"Are you and Bob such good friends that you correspond? Whatwill Jack say?""Don't know, and don't care! Be good, now, and let's have a littlesecret as well as other folks. I'll tell you all about it when heanswers," said Jill in her most coaxing tone.
　　"Suppose he doesn't?""Then I shall send you up to see him. I must know something, andI want to do it myself, if I can.""Look here; what are you after? I do believe you think----" Frankgot no farther, for Jill gave a little scream, and stopped him bycrying eagerly, "Don't say it out loud! I really do believe it may be,and I'm going to find out.""What made you think of him?" and Frank looked thoughtfully atthe letter, as if turning carefully over in his mind the idea that Jill'squick wits had jumped at.
　　"Come here and I'll tell you."Holding him by one button, she whispered something in his earthat made him exclaim, with a look at the rug,"No! did he? I declare I shouldn't wonder! It would be just like thedear old blunder-head.""I never thought of it till you told me where Bob was, and then itall sort of burst upon me in one minute!" cried Jill, waving herarms about to express the intellectual explosion which had thrownlight upon the mystery, like sky-rockets in a dark night.
　　"You are as bright as a button. No time to lose; I'm off"; and off hewas, splashing through the mud to post the letter, on the back ofwhich he added, to make the thing sure, "Hurry up.
　　F. M."Both felt rather guilty next day, but enjoyed themselves very muchnevertheless, and kept chuckling over the mine they were makingunder Jack's unconscious feet. They hardly expected an answer atnoon, as the Hill people were not very eager for their mail, but atnight Jill was sure of a letter, and to her great delight it came. Jackbrought it himself, which added to the fun, and while she eagerlyread it he sat calmly poring over the latest number of his ownprivate and particular "Youth's Companion."Bob was not a "complete letter-writer" by any means, and withgreat labor and much ink had produced the following brief buthighly satisfactory epistle. Not knowing how to address his faircorrespondent he let it alone, and went at once to the point in thefrankest possible way:
　　"Jack did come up Friday. Sorry he got into a mess. It was realkind of him, and I shall pay him back soon. Jack paid Jerry for meand I made him promise not to tell. Jerry said he'd come here andmake a row if I didn't cash up. I was afraid I'd lose the place if hedid, for the Capt. is awful strict. If Jack don't tell now, I will. I ain'tmean. Glad you wrote.
　　R. O. W.""Hurrah!" cried Jill, waving the letter over her head in greattriumph. "Call everybody and read it out," she added, as Franksnatched it, and ran for his mother, seeing at a glance that the newswas good. Jill was so afraid she should tell before the others camethat she burst out singing "Pretty Bobby Shafto" at the top of hervoice, to Jack's great disgust, for he considered the song verypersonal, as he wa.s rather fond of "combing down his yellowhair," and Jill often plagued him by singing it when he came inwith the golden quiris very smooth and nice to hide the scar on hisforehead.
　　In about five minutes the door flew open and in came Mamma,making straight for bewildered Jack, who thought the family hadgone crazy when his parent caught him in her arms, sayingtenderly,"My good, generous boy! I knew he was right all the time!" whileFrank worked his hand up and down like a pump-handle,exclaiming heartily,"You're a trump, sir, and I'm proud of you!" Jill meantime callingout, in wild delight,"I told you so! I told you so! I did find out; ha, ha, I did!""Come, I say! What's the matter? I'm all right. Don't squeeze thebreath out of me, please," expostulated Jack, looking so startledand innocent, as he struggled feebly, that they all laughed, and thisplaintive protest caused him to be released. But the nextproceeding did not enlighten him much, for Frank kept waving avery inky paper before him and ordering him to read it, whileMamma made a charge at Jill, as if it was absolutely necessary tohug somebody.
　　"Hullo!" said Jack, when he got the letter into his own hand andread it. "Now who put Bob up to this? Nobody had any business tointerfere--but it's mighty good of him, anyway," he added, as theanxious lines in his round face smoothed themselves away, while asmile of relief told how hard it had been for him to keep his word.
　　"I did!" cried Jill, clapping her hands, and looking so happy that hecould not have scolded her if he had wanted to.
　　"Who told you he was in the scrape?" demanded Jack, in a hurry toknow all about it now the seal was taken off his own lips.
　　"You did"; and Jill's face twinkled with naughty satisfaction, forthis was the best fun of all.
　　"I didn't! When? Where? It's a joke!""You did," cried Jill, pointing to the rug. "You went to sleep thereafter the long walk, and talked in your sleep about 'Bob' and 'Allright, old boy,' and ever so much gibberish. I didn't think about itthen, but when I heard that Bob was up there I thought maybe heknew something about it, and last night I wrote and asked him, andthat's the answer, and now it is all right, and you are the best boythat ever was, and I'm so glad!"Here Jill paused, all out of breath, and Frank said, with anapproving pat on the head,"It won't do to have such a sharp young person round if we aregoing to have secrets. You'd make a good detective, miss.""Catch me taking naps before people again"; and Jack lookedrather crestfallen that his own words had set "Fine Ear" on thetrack. "Never mind, I didn't mean to tell, though I just ached to doit all the time, so I haven't broken my word. I'm glad you all know,but you needn't let it get out, for Bob is a good fellow, and it mightmake trouble for him," added Jack, anxious lest his gain should bethe other's loss.
　　"I shall tell Mr. Acton myself, and the Captain, also, for I'm notgoing to have my son suspected of wrong-doing when he has onlytried to help a friend, and borne enough for his sake," saidMamma, much excited by this discovery of generous fidelity in herboy; though when one came to look at it calmly, one saw that itmight have been done in a wiser way.
　　"Now, please, don't make a fuss about it; that would be most asbad as having everyone down on me. I can stand your praising me,but I won't be patted on the head by anybody else"; and Jackassumed a manly air, though his face was full of genuine boyishpleasure at being set right in the eyes of those he loved.
　　"I'll be discreet, dear, but you owe it to yourself, as well as Bob, tohave the truth known. Both have behaved well, and no harm willcome to him, I am sure. I'll see to that myself," said Mrs. Minot, ina tone that set Jack's mind at rest on that point.
　　"Now do tell all about it," cried Jill, who was pining to know thewhole story, and felt as if she had earned the right to hear it.
　　"Oh, it wasn't much. We promised Ed to stand by Bob, so I did aswell as I knew how"; and Jack seemed to think that was about allthere was to say.
　　"I never saw such a fellow for keeping a promise! You stick to itthrough thick and thin, no matter how silly or hard it is. Youremember, mother, last summer, how you told him not to go in aboat and he promised, the day we went on the picnic. We rode up,but the horse ran off home, so we had to come back by way of theriver, all but Jack, and he walked every step of five miles becausehe wouldn't go near a boat, though Mr. Burton was there to takecare of him. I call that rather overdoing the matter"; and Franklooked as if he thought moderation even in virtue a good thing.
　　"And I call it a fine sample of entire obedience. He obeyed orders,and that is what we all must do, without always seeing why, ordaring to use our own judgment. It is a great safeguard to Jack, anda very great comfort to me; for I know that if he promises he willkeep his word, no matter what it costs him," said Mamma warmly,as she tumbled up the quirls with an irrepressible caress,remembering how the boy came wearily in after all the others,without seeming for a moment to think that he could have doneanything else.
　　"Like Casabianca!" cried Jill, much impressed, for obedience washer hardest trial.
　　"I think he was a fool to burn up," said Frank, bound not to give in.
　　"I don't. It's a splendid piece, and everyone likes to speak it, and itwas true, and it wouldn't be in all the books if he was a fool.
　　Grown people know what is good," declared Jill, who liked heroicactions, and was always hoping for a chance to distinguish herselfin that way.
　　"You admire 'The Charge of the Light Brigade,' and glow all overas you thunder it out. Yet they went gallantly to their death ratherthan disobey orders. A mistake, perhaps, but it makes us thrill tohear of it; and the same spirit keeps my Jack true as steel whenonce his word is passed, or he thinks it is his duty. Don't belaughed out of it, my son, for faithfulness in little things fits onefor heroism when the great trials come. One's conscience canhardly be too tender when honor and honesty are concerned.""You are right, mother, and I am wrong. I beg your pardon, Jack,and you sha'n't get ahead of me next time."Frank made his mother a little bow, gave his brother a shake of thehand, and nodded to Jill, as if anxious to show that he was not tooproud to own up when he made a mistake.
　　"Please tell on, Jack. This is very nice, but I do want to know allabout the other," said Jill, after a short pause.
　　"Let me see. Oh, I saw Bob at church, and he looked rather blue;so, after Sunday School, I asked what the matter was. He said Jerrybothered him for some money he lent him at different times whenthey were loafing round together, before we took him up. Hewouldn't get any wages for some time. The Captain keeps himshort on purpose, I guess, and won't let him come down townexcept on Sundays. He didn't want anyone to know about it, forfear he'd lose his place. So I promised I wouldn't tell. Then I wasafraid Jerry would go and make a fuss, and Bob would run off, ordo something desperate, being worried, and I said I'd pay it forhim, if I could. So he went home pretty jolly, and I scratched'round for the money. Got it, too, and wasn't I glad?"Jack paused to rub his hands, and Frank said, with more than usualrespect,"Couldn't you get hold of Jerry in any other place, and out ofschool time? That did the mischief, thanks to Joe. I thrashed him,Jill--did I mention it?""I couldn't get all my money till Friday morning, and I knew Jerrywas off at night. I looked for him before school, and at noon, butcouldn't find him, so afternoon recess was my last chance. I wasbound to do it and I didn't mean to break the rule, but Jerry wasjust going into the shop, so I pelted after him, and as it was privatebusiness we went to the billiard-room. I declare I never was sorelieved as when I handed over that money, and made him say itwas all right, and he wouldn't go near Bob. He's off, so my mind iseasy, and Bob will be so grateful I can keep him steady, perhaps.
　　That will be worth two seventy-five, I think," said Jack heartily.
　　"You should have come to me," began Frank.
　　"And got laughed at--no, thank you," interrupted Jack, recollectingseveral philanthropic little enterprises which were nipped in thebud for want of co-operation.
　　"To me, then," said his mother. "It would have saved so muchtrouble.""I thought of it, but Bob didn't want the big fellows to know forfear they'd be down on him, so I thought he might not like me totell grown people. I don't mind the fuss now, and Bob is as kind ashe can be. Wanted to give me his big knife, but I wouldn't take it.
　　I'd rather have this," and Jack put the letter in his pocket with aslap outside, as if it warmed the cockles of his heart to have itthere.
　　"Well, it seems rather like a tempest in a teapot, now it is all over,but I do admire your pluck, little boy, in holding out so well wheneveryone was scolding at you, and you in the right all the time,"said Frank, glad to praise, now that he honestly could, after hiswholesale condemnation.
　　"That is what pulled me through, I suppose. I used to think if I haddone anything wrong, that I couldn't stand the snubbing a day. Ishould have told right off, and had it over. Now, I guess I'll have agood report if you do tell Mr. Acton," said Jack, looking at hismother so wistfully, that she resolved to slip away that veryevening, and make sure that the thing was done.
　　"That will make you happier than anything else, won't it?" askedJill, eager to have him rewarded after his trials.
　　"There's one thing I like better, though I'd be very sorry to lose myreport. It's the fun of telling Ed I tried to do as he wanted us to, andseeing how pleased he'll be," added Jack, rather bashfully, for theboys laughed at him sometimes for his love of this friend.
　　"I know he won't be any happier about it than someone else, whostood by you all through, and set her bright wits to work till thetrouble was all cleared away," said Mrs. Minot, looking at Jill'scontented face, as she lay smiling on them all.
　　Jack understood, and, hopping across the room, gave both the thinhands a hearty shake; then, not finding any words quite cordialenough in which to thank this faithful little sister, he stooped downand kissed her gratefully.
Chapter 15
Saint LucySaturday was a busy and a happy time to Jack, for in the morningMr. Acton came to see him, having heard the story overnight, andpromised to keep Bob's secret while giving Jack an acquittal aspublic as the reprimand had been. Then he asked for the reportwhich Jack had bravely received the day before and put awaywithout showing to anybody.
　　"There is one mistake here which we must rectify," said Mr.
　　Acton, as he crossed out the low figures under the word"Behavior," and put the much-desired 100 there.
　　"But I did break the rule, sir," said Jack, though his face glowedwith pleasure, for Mamma was looking on.
　　"I overlook that as I should your breaking into my house if you sawit was on fire. You ran to save a friend, and I wish I could tellthose fellows why you were there. It would do them good. I am notgoing to praise you, John, but I did believe you in spite ofappearances, and I am glad to have for a pupil a boy who loves hisneighbor better than himself."Then, having shaken hands heartily, Mr. Acton went away, andJack flew off to have rejoicings with Jill, who sat up on her sofa,without knowing it, so eager was she to hear all about the call.
　　In the afternoon Jack drove his mother to the Captain's, confidingto her on the way what a hard time he had when he went before,and how nothing but the thought of cheering Bob kept him upwhen he slipped and hurt his knee, and his boot sprung a leak, andthe wind came up very cold, and the hill seemed an endlessmountain of mud and snow.
　　Mrs. Minot had such a gentle way of putting things that she wouldhave won over a much harder man than the strict old Captain, whoheard the story with interest, and was much pleased with the boys'
　　efforts to keep Bob straight. That young person dodged away intothe barn with Jack, and only appeared at the last minute to shove abag of chestnuts into the chaise. But he got a few kind words thatdid him good, from Mrs. Minot and the Captain, and from that dayfelt himself under bonds to behave well if he would keep theirconfidence.
　　"I shall give Jill the nuts; and I wish I had something she wantedvery, very much, for I do think she ought to be rewarded forgetting me out of the mess," said Jack, as they'd rove happilyhome again.
　　"I hope to have something in a day or two that will delight her verymuch. I will say no more now, but keep my little secret and let itbe a surprise to all by and by," answered his mother, looking as ifshe had not much doubt about the matter.
　　"That will be jolly. You are welcome to your secret, Mamma. I'vehad enough of them for one while"; and Jack shrugged his broadshoulders as if a burden had been taken off.
　　In the evening Ed came, and Jack was quite satisfied when he sawhow pleased his friend was at what he had done.
　　"I never meant you should take so much trouble, only be kind toBob," said Ed, who did not know how strong his influence was,nor what a sweet example of quiet well-doing his own life was toall his mates.
　　"I wished to be really useful; not just to talk about it and donothing. That isn't your way, and I want to be like you," answeredJack, with such affectionate sincerity that Ed could not helpbelieving him, though he modestly declined the compliment bysaying, as he began to play softly, "Better than I am, I hope. I don'tamount to much.""Yes, you do! and if anyone says you don't I'll shake him. I can'ttell what it is, only you always look so happy and contented--sortof sweet and shiny," said Jack, as he stroked the smooth brownhead, rather at a loss to describe the unusually fresh and sunnyexpression of Ed's face, which was always cheerful, yet had acertain thoughtfulness that made it very attractive to both youngand old.
　　"Soap makes him shiny; I never saw such a fellow to wash andbrush," put in Frank, as he came up with one of the pieces of musiche and Ed were fond of practising together.
　　"I don't mean that!" said Jack indignantly. "I wash and brush tillyou call me a dandy, but I don't have the same look--it seems tocome from the inside, somehow, as if he was always jolly andclean and good in his mind, you know.""Born so," said Frank, rumbling away in the bass with a pair ofhands that would have been the better for some of the above-mentioned soap, for he did not love to do much in the washing andbrushing line.
　　"I suppose that's it. Well, I like it, and I shall keep on trying, forbeing loved by everyone is about the nicest thing in the world. Isn'tit, Ed?" asked Jack, with a gentle tweak of the ear as he put aquestion which he knew would get no answer, for Ed was somodest he could not see wherein he differed from other boys, norbelieve that the sunshine he saw in other faces was only thereflection from his own.
　　Sunday evening Mrs. Minot sat by the fire, planning how sheshould tell some good news she had been saving up all day. Mrs.
　　Pecq knew it, and seemed so delighted that she went about smilingas if she did not know what trouble meant, and could not doenough for the family. She was downstairs now, seeing that theclothes were properly prepared for the wash, so there was no onein the Bird Room but Mamma and the children. Frank was readingup all he could find about some Biblical hero mentioned in theday's sermon; Jill lay where she had lain for nearly four longmonths, and though her face was pale and thin with theconfinement, there was an expression on it now sweeter even thanhealth. Jack sat on the rug beside her, looking at a white carnationthrough the magnifying glass, while she was enjoying the perfumeof a red one as she talked to him.
　　"If you look at the white petals you'll see that they sparkle likemarble, and go winding a long way down to the middle of theflower where it grows sort of rosy; and in among the small, curlyleaves, like fringed curtains, you can see the little green fairysitting all alone. Your mother showed me that, and I think it is verypretty. I call it a 'fairy,' but it is really where the seeds are hiddenand the sweet smell comes from."Jill spoke softly lest she should disturb the others, and, as sheturned to push up her pillow, she saw Mrs. Minot looking at herwith a smile she did not understand.
　　"Did you speak, 'm?" she asked, smiling back again, without in theleast knowing why.
　　"No, dear. I was listening and thinking what a pretty little story onecould make out of your fairy living alone down there, and onlyknown by her perfume.""Tell it, Mamma. It is time for our story, and that would be a niceone, I guess," said Jack, who was as fond of stories as when he satin his mother's lap and chuckled over the hero of the beanstalk.
　　'We don't have fairy tales on Sunday, you know," began Jillregretfully.
　　"Call it a parable, and have a moral to it, then it will be all right,"put in Frank, as he shut his big book, having found what hewanted.
　　"I like stories about saints, and the good and wonderful things theydid," said Jill, who enjoyed the wise and interesting bits Mrs.
　　Minot often found for her in grown-up books, for Jill hadthoughtful times, and asked questions which showed that she wasgrowing fast in mind if not in body.
　　"This is a true story; but I will disguise it a little, and call it 'TheMiracle of Saint Lucy," began Mrs. Minot, seeing a way to tell hergood news and amuse the children likewise.
　　Frank retired to the easy-chair, that he might sleep if the taleshould prove too childish for him. Jill settled herself among hercushions, and Jack lay flat upon the rug, with his feet up, so that hecould admire his red slippers and rest his knee, which ached.
　　"Once upon a time there was a queen who had two princes.""Wasn't there a princess?" asked Jack, interested at once.
　　"No; and it was a great sorrow to the queen that she had no littledaughter, for the sons were growing up, and she was often verylonely.
　　"Like Snowdrop's mother," whispered Jill.
　　"Now, don't keep interrupting, children, or we never shall get on,"said Frank, more anxious to hear about the boys that were than thegirl that was not.
　　"One day, when the princes were out--ahem! we'll sayhunting--they found a little damsel lying on the snow, half deadwith cold, they thought. She was the child of a poor woman wholived in the forest--a wild little thing, always dancing and singingabout; as hard to catch as a squirrel, and so fearless she wouldclimb the highest trees, leap broad brooks, or jump off the steeprocks to show her courage. The boys carried her home to thepalace, and the queen was glad to have her. She had fallen and hurtherself, so she lay in bed week after week, with her mother to takecare of her--""That's you," whispered Jack, throwing the white carnation at Jill,and she threw back the red one, with her finger on her lips, for thetale was very interesting now.
　　"She did not suffer much after a time, but she scolded and cried,and could not be resigned, because she was a prisoner. The queentried to help her, but she could not do much; the princes were kind,but they had their books and plays, and were away a good deal.
　　Some friends she had came often to see her, but still she beat herwings against the bars, like a wild bird in a cage, and soon herspirits were all gone, and it was sad to see her.""Where was your Saint Lucy? I thought it was about her, askedJack, who did not like to have Jill's past troubles dwelt upon,since his were not.
　　"She is coming. Saints are not born--they are made after manytrials and tribulations," answered his mother, looking at the fire asif it helped her to spin her little story. "Well, the poor child used tosing sometimes to while away the long hours--sad songs mostly,and one among them which the queen taught her was 'SweetPatience, Come.'
　　"This she used to sing a great deal after a while, never dreamingthat Patience was an angel who could hear and obey. But it was so;and one night, when the girl had lulled herself to sleep with thatsong, the angel came. Nobody saw the lovely spirit with tendereyes, and a voice that was like balm. No one heard the rustle ofwings as she hovered over the little bed and touched the lips, theeyes, the hands of the sleeper, and then flew away, leaving threegifts behind. The girl did not know why, but after that night thesongs grew gayer, there seemed to be more sunshine everywhereher eyes looked, and her hands were never tired of helping othersin various pretty, useful, or pleasant ways. Slowly the wild birdceased to beat against the bars, but sat in its cage and made musicfor all in the palace, till the queen could not do without it, the poormother cheered up, and the princes called the girl theirnightingale.""Was that the miracle?" asked Jack, forgetting all about hisslippers, as he watched Jill's eyes brighten and the color come upin her white cheeks.
　　"That was the miracle, and Patience can work far greater ones ifyou will let her.""And the girl's name was Lucy?""Yes; they did not call her a saint then, but she was trying to be ascheerful as a certain good woman she had heard of, and so thequeen had that name for her, though she did not let her know it fora long time.""That's not bad for a Sunday story, but there might have been moreabout the princes, seems to me," was Frank's criticism, as Jill layvery still, trying to hide her face behind the carnation, for she hadno words to tell how touched and pleased she was to find that herlittle efforts to be good had been seen, remembered, and nowrewarded in this way.
　　There is more.
　　"Then the story isn't done?" cried Jack.
　　"Oh dear, no; the most interesting things are to come, if you canwait for them.""Yes, I see, this is the moral part. Now keep still, and let us havethe rest," commanded Frank, while the others composedthemselves for the sequel, suspecting that it was rather nice,because Mamma's sober face changed, and her eyes laughed asthey looked at the fire.
　　"The elder prince was very fond of driving dragons, for the peopleof that country used these fiery monsters as horses.""And got run away with, didn't he?" laughed Jack, adding, withgreat interest, "What did the other fellow do?""He went about fighting other people's battles, helping the poor,and trying to do good. But he lacked judgment, so he often got intotrouble, and was in such a hurry that he did not always stop to findout the wisest way. As when he gave away his best coat to a beggarboy, instead of the old one which he intended to give.
　　"I say, that isn't fair, mother! Neither of them was new, and the boyneeded the best more than I'd id, and I wore the old one all winter,didn't I?" asked Jack, who had rather exulted over Frank, and wasnow taken down himself.
　　"Yes, you did, my dear; and it was not an easy thing for mydandiprat to do. Now listen, and I'll tell you how they both learnedto be wiser. The elder prince soon found that the big dragons weretoo much for him, and set about training his ownlittle one, who now and then ran away with him. Its name wasWill, a good servant, but a bad master; so he learned to control it,and in time this gave him great power over himself, and fitted himto be a king over others.""Thank you, mother; I'll remember my part of the moral. Now giveJack his," said Frank, who liked the dragon episode, as he had beenwrestling with his own of late, and found it hard to manage.
　　"He had a fine example before him in a friend, and he followed itmore reasonably till he grew able to use wisely one of the best andnoblest gifts of God--benevolence.""Now tell about the girl. Was there more to that part of the story?"asked Jack, well pleased with his moral, as it took Ed in likewise.
　　"That is the best of all, but it seems as if I never should get to it.
　　After Patience made Lucy sweet and cheerful, she began to have acurious power over those about her, and to work little miraclesherself, though she did not know it. The queen learned to love herso dearly she could not let her go; she cheered up all her friendswhen they came with their small troubles; the princes found brighteyes, willing hands, and a kind heart always at their service, andfelt, without quite knowing why, that it was good for them to havea gentle little creature to care for; so they softened their roughmanners, loud voices, and careless ways, for her sake, and when itwas proposed to take her away to her own home they could notgive her up, but said she must stay longer, didn't they?""I'd like to see them saying anything else," said Frank, while Jacksat up to demand fiercely,"Who talks about taking Jill away?""Lucy's mother thought she ought to go, and said so, but the queentold her how much good it did them all to have her there, andbegged the dear woman to let her little cottage and come and behousekeeper in the palace, for the queen was getting lazy, andliked to sit and read, and talk and sew with Lucy, better than tolook after things.""And she said she would?" cried Jill, clasping her hands in heranxiety, for she had learned to love her cage now.
　　"Yes." Mrs. Minot had no time to say more, for one of the redslippers flew up in the air, and Jack had to clap both hands over hismouth to suppress the "hurrah!" that nearly escaped. Frank said,"That's good!" and nodded with his most cordial smile at Jill whopulled herself up with cheeks now as rosy as the red carnation, anda little catch in her breath as she said to herself,"It's too lovely to be true.""That's a first-rate end to a very good story," began Jack, withgrave decision, as he put on his slipper and sat up to pat Jill's hand,wishing it was not quite so like a little claw.
　　"That's not the end"; and Mamma's eyes laughed more than ever asthree astonished faces turned to her, and three voices cried out,"Still more?""The very best of all. You must know that, while Lucy was busyfor others, she was not forgotten, and when she was expecting tolie on her bed through the summer, plans were being made for allsorts of pleasant changes. First of all, she was to have a nice littlebrace to support the back which was growing better every day;then, as the warm weather came on, she was to go out, or lie on thepiazza; and by and by, when school was done, she was to go withthe queen and the princes for a month or two down to the sea-side,where fresh air and salt water were to build her up in the mostdelightful way. There, now! isn't that the best ending of all?" andMamma paused to read her answer in the bright faces of two of thelisteners, for Jill hid hers in the pillow, and lay quite still, as if itwas too much for her.
　　"That will be regularly splendid! I'll row you all about--boating isso much easier than riding, and I like it on salt water," saidFrank, going to sit on the arm of the sofa, quite excited by thecharms of the new plan.
　　"And I'll teach you to swim, and roll you over the beach, and getsea-weed and shells, and no end of nice things, and we'll all comehome as strong as lions," added Jack, scrambling up as if about toset off at once.
　　"The doctor says you have been doing finely of late, and the bracewill come to-morrow, and the first really mild day you are to havea breath of fresh air. Won't that be good?" asked Mrs. Minot,hoping her story had not been too interesting.
　　"Is she crying?" said Jack, much concerned as he patted the pillowin his most soothing way, while Frank lifted one curl after anotherto see what was hidden underneath.
　　Not tears, for two eyes sparkled behind the fingers, then the handscame down like clouds from before the sun, and Jill's face shoneout so bright and happy it did one's heart good to see it.
　　"I'm not crying," she said with a laugh which was fuller of blithemusic than any song she sung. "But it was so splendid, it sort oftook my breath away for a minute. I thought I wasn't any better,and never should be, and I made up my mind I wouldn't ask, itwould be so hard for anyone to tell me so. Now I see why thedoctor made me stand up, and told me to get my baskets ready togo a-Maying. I thought he was in fun; did he really mean I couldgo?" asked Jill, expecting too much, for a word of encouragementmade her as hopeful as she had been despondent before.
　　"No, dear, not so soon as that. It will be months, probably, beforeyou can walk and run, as you used to; but they will soon pass. Youneedn't mind about May-day; it is always too cold for flowers, andyou will find more here among your own plants, than on the hills,to fill your baskets," answered Mrs. Minot, hastening to suggestsomething pleasant to beguile the time of probation.
　　"I can wait. Months are not years, and if I'm truly getting well,everything will seem beautiful and easy to me," said Jill, layingherself down again, with the patient look she had learned to wear,and gathering up the scattered carnations to enjoy their spicybreath, as if the fairies hidden there had taught her some of theirsweet secrets.
　　"Dear little girl, it has been a long, hard trial for you, but it iscoming to an end, and I think you will find that it has not beentime wasted, I don't want you to be a saint quite yet, but I am surea gentler Jill will rise up from that sofa than the one who lay downthere in December.""How could I help growing better, when you were so good to me?"cried Jill, putting up both arms, as Mrs. Minot went to take Frank'splace, and he retired to the fire, there to stand surveying the scenewith calm approval.
　　"You have done quite as much for us; so we are even. I proved thatto your mother, and she is going to let the little house and take careof the big one for me, while I borrow you to keep me happy andmake the boys gentle and kind. That is the bargain, and we get thebest of it," said Mrs. Minot, looking well pleased, while Jackadded, "That's so!" and Frank observed with an air of conviction,'We couldn't get on without Jill, possibly.""Can I do all that? I'd idn't know I was of any use. I only tried to begood and grateful, for there didn't seem to be anything else I coulddo," said Jill, wondering why they were all so fond of her.
　　"No real trying is ever in vain. It is like the spring rain, and flowersare sure to follow in good time. The three gifts Patience gave SaintLucy were courage, cheerfulness, and love, and with these one canwork the sweetest miracles in the world, as you see," and Mrs.
　　Minot pointed to the pretty room and its happy inmates.
　　"Am I really the least bit like that good Lucinda? I tried to be, but Ididn't think I was," asked Jill softly.
　　"You are very like her in all ways but one. She did not get well,and you will."A short answer, but it satisfied Jill to her heart's core, and thatnight, when she lay in bed, she thought to herself: "How curious itis that I've been a sort of missionary without knowing it! They alllove and thank me, and won't let me go, so I suppose I must havedone something, but I don't know what, except trying to be goodand pleasant."That was the secret, and Jill found it out just when it was mostgrateful as a reward for past efforts, most helpful as anencouragement toward the constant well-doing which can makeeven a little girl a joy and comfort to all who know and love her.
Chapter 16
Up at Merry's"Now fly round, child, and get your sweeping done up smart andearly.""Yes, mother.""I shall want you to help me about the baking, by and by.""Yes, mother.""Roxy is cleaning the cellar-closets, so you'll have to get thevegetables ready for dinner. Father wants a boiled dish, and I shallbe so busy I can't see to it.""Yes, mother."A cheerful voice gave the three answers, but it cost Merry an effortto keep it so, for she had certain little plans of her own whichmade the work before her unusually distasteful. Saturday alwayswas a trying day, for, though she liked to see rooms in order, shehated to sweep, as no speck escaped Mrs. Grant's eye, and only thegood old-fashioned broom, wielded by a pair of strong arms, wasallowed. Baking was another trial: she loved good bread anddelicate pastry, but did not enjoy burning her face over a hot stove,daubing her hands with dough, or spending hours rolling outcookies for the boys; while a "boiled dinner" was her especialhorror, as it was not elegant, and the washing of vegetables was ajob she always shirked when she could.
　　However, having made up her mind to do her work withoutcomplaint, she ran upstairs to put on her dust-cap, trying to look asif sweeping was the joy of her life.
　　"It is such a lovely day, I'd id want to rake my garden, and have awalk with Molly, and finish my book so I can get another," shesaid with a sigh, as she leaned out of the open window for a breathof the unusually mild air.
　　Down in the ten-acre lot the boys were carting and spreading loam;out in the barn her father was getting his plows ready; over the hillrose the smoke of the distant factory, and the river that turned thewheels was gliding through the meadows, where soon theblackbirds would be singing. Old Bess pawed the ground, eager tobe off; the gray hens were scratching busily all about the yard;even the green things in the garden were pushing through thebrown earth, softened by April rains, and there was a shimmer ofsunshine over the wide landscape that made every familiar objectbeautiful with hints of spring, and the activity it brings.
　　Something made the old nursery hymn come into Merry's head,and humming to herself,"In works of labor or of skillI would be busy too,"she tied on her cap, shouldered her broom, and fell to work soenergetically that she soon swept her way through the chambers,down the front stairs to the parlor door, leaving freshness andorder behind her as she went.
　　She always groaned when she entered that apartment, and got outof it again as soon as possible, for it was, like most countryparlors, a prim and chilly place, with little beauty and no comfort.
　　Black horse-hair furniture, very slippery and hard, stood againstthe wall; the table had its gift books, albums, worsted mat and uglylamp; the mantel-piece its china vases, pink shells, and clock thatnever went; the gay carpet was kept distressingly bright by closedshutters six days out of the seven, and a general air of go-to-meeting solemnity pervaded the room. Merry longed to make itpretty and pleasant, but her mother would allow of no changethere, so the girl gave up her dreams of rugs and hangings, finepictures and tasteful ornaments, and dutifully aired, dusted, andshut up this awful apartment once a week, privately resolving that,if she ever had a parlor of her own, it should not be as dismal as atomb.
　　The dining-room was a very different place, for here Merry hadbeen allowed to do as she liked, yet so gradual had been thechange, that she would have found it difficult to tell how it cameabout. It seemed to begin with the flowers, for her father kept hisword about the "posy pots," and got enough to make quite a littleconservatory in the bay-window, which was sufficiently large forthree rows all round, and hanging-baskets overhead. Beingdiscouraged by her first failure, Merry gave up trying to havethings nice everywhere, and contented herself with making thatone nook so pretty that the boys called it her "bower." Even busyMrs. Grant owned that plants were not so messy as she expected,and the fanner was never tired of watching "little daughter" as shesat at work there, with her low chair and table full of books.
　　The lamp helped, also, for Merry set up her own, and kept it sowell trimmed that it burned clear and bright, shining on the greenarch of ivy overhead, and on the nasturtium vines framing the oldglass, and peeping at their gay little faces, and at the pretty younggirl, so pleasantly that first her father came to read his paper by it,then her mother slipped in to rest on the lounge in the corner, andfinally the boys hovered about the door as if the "settin'-room" hadgrown more attractive than the kitchen.
　　But the open fire did more than anything else to win and hold themall, as it seldom fails to do when the black demon of an airtightstove is banished from the hearth. After the room was cleaned tillit shone, Merry begged to have the brass andirons put in, andoffered to keep them as bright as gold if her mother wouldconsent. So the great logs were kindled, and the flames wentdancing up the chimney as if glad to be set free from their prison.
　　It changed the whole room like magic, and no one couldresist the desire to enjoy its cheery comfort. The farmer'sthree-cornered leathern chair soon stood on one side, and mother'srocker on the other, as they toasted their feet and dozed or chattedin the pleasant warmth.
　　The boys' slippers were always ready on the hearth; and when thebig boots were once off, they naturally settled down about thetable, where the tall lamp, with its pretty shade of pressed autumnleaves, burned brightly, and the books and papers lay ready to theirhands instead of being tucked out of sight in the closet. They werebeginning to see that "Merry's notions" had some sense in them,since they were made comfortable, and good-naturedly took somepains to please her in various ways. Tom brushed his hair andwashed his hands nicely before he came to table. Dick tried tolower his boisterous laughter, and Harry never smoked in thesitting-room. Even Roxy expressed her pleasure in seeing "thingskind of spruced up," and Merry's gentle treatment of thehard-working drudge won her heart entirely.
　　The girl was thinking of these changes as she watered her flowers,dusted the furniture, and laid the fire ready for kindling; and, whenall was done, she stood a minute to enjoy the pleasant room, full ofspring sunshine, fresh air, and exquisite order. It seemed to giveher heart for more distasteful labors, and she fell to work at thepies as cheerfully as if she liked it.
　　Mrs. Grant was flying about the kitchen, getting the loaves ofbrown and white bread ready for the big oven. Roxy's voice cameup from the cellar singing "Bounding Billows," with a swashingand scrubbing accompaniment which suggested that she wasactually enjoying a "life on the ocean wave." Merry, in her neatcap and apron, stood smiling over her work as she deftly rolled andclipped, filled and covered, finding a certain sort of pleasure indoing it well, and adding interest to it by crimping the crust,making pretty devices with strips of paste and star-shapedprickings of the fork.
　　"Good-will giveth skill," says the proverb, and even particular Mrs.
　　Grant was satisfied when she paused to examine the pastry withher experienced eye.
　　"You are a handy child and a credit to your bringing up, though Ido say it. Those are as pretty pies as I'd wish to eat, if they bakewell, and there's no reason why they shouldn't.""May I make some tarts or rabbits of these bits? The boys likethem, and I enjoy modelling this sort of thing," said Merry, whowas trying to mould a bird, as she had seen Ralph do with clay toamuse Jill while the bust was going on.
　　"No, dear; there's no time for knick-knacks to-day. The beets oughtto be on this minute. Run and get 'em, and be sure you scrape thecarrots well."Poor Merry put away the delicate task she was just beginning tolike, and taking a pan went down cellar, wishing vegetables couldbe grown without earth, for she hated to put her hands in dirtywater. A word of praise to Roxy made that grateful scrubber leaveher work to poke about in the root-cellar, choosing "sech as waspretty much of a muchness, else they wouldn't bile even"; so Merrywas spared that part of the job, and went up to scrape and washwithout complaint, since it was for father. She was repaid at noonby the relish with which he enjoyed his dinner, for Merry tried tomake even a boiled dish pretty by arranging the beets, carrots,turnips, and potatoes in contrasting colors, with the beef hiddenunder the cabbage leaves.
　　"Now, I'll rest and read for an hour, then I'll rake my garden, or rundown town to see Molly and get some seeds," she thought toherself, as she put away the spoons and glasses, which she liked towash, that they might always be clear and bright.
　　"If you've done all your own mending, there's a heap of socks to belooked over. Then I'll show you about darning the tablecloths. I dohate to have a stitch of work left over till Monday," said Mrs.
　　Grant, who never took naps, and prided herself on sitting down toher needle at 3 P.M. every day.
　　"Yes, mother"; and Merry went slowly upstairs, feeling that a partof Saturday ought to be a holiday after books and work all theweek. As she braided up her hair, her eye fell upon the reflectionof her own face in the glass. Not a happy nor a pretty one just then,and Merry was so unaccustomed to seeing any other, thatinvoluntarily the frown smoothed itself out, the eyes lost theirweary look, the drooping lips curved into a smile, and, leaning herelbows on the bureau, she shook her head at herself, saying, halfaloud, as she glanced at Ivanhoe lying near,"You needn't look so cross and ugly just because you can't havewhat you want. Sweeping, baking, and darning are not so bad asbeing plagued with lovers and carried off and burnt at the stake, soI won't envy poor Rebecca her jewels and curls and romantictimes, but make the best of my own."Then she laughed, and the bright face came back into the mirror,looking like an old friend, and Merry went on dressing with care,for she took pleasure in her own little charms, and felt a sense ofcomfort in knowing that she could always have one pretty thing tolook at if she kept her own face serene and sweet. It certainlylooked so as it bent over the pile of big socks half an hour later,and brightened with each that was laid aside. Her mother saw it,and, guessing why such wistful glances went from clock towindow, kindly shortened the task of table-cloth darning by doinga good bit herself, before putting it into Merry's hands.
　　She was a good and loving mother in spite of her strict ways, andknew that it was better for her romantic daughter to be learning allthe housewifery lessons she could teach her, than to be readingnovels, writing verses, or philandering about with her head full ofgirlish fancies, quite innocent in themselves, but not the stuff tolive on. So she wisely taught the hands that preferred to pickflowers, trim up rooms and mould birds, to work well with needle,broom, and rolling-pin; put a receipt-book before the eyes thatloved to laugh and weep over tender tales, and kept the young headand heart safe and happy with wholesome duties, useful studies,and such harmless pleasures as girls should love, instead of lettingthem waste their freshness in vague longings, idle dreams, andfrivolous pastimes.
　　But it was often hard to thwart the docile child, and lately she hadseemed to be growing up so fast that her mother began to feel anew sort of tenderness for this sweet daughter, who was almostready to take upon herself the cares, as well as triumphs anddelights, of maidenhood. Something in the droop of the brownhead, and the quick motion of the busy hand with a little burn onit, made it difficult for Mrs. Grant to keep Merry at work that day,and her eye watched the clock almost as impatiently as the girl's,for she liked to see the young face brighten when the hour ofrelease came.
　　"What next?" asked Merry, as the last stitch was set, and shestifled a sigh on hearing the clock strike four, for the sun wasgetting low, and the lovely afternoon going fast,"One more job, if you are not too tired for it. I want the receipt fordiet drink Miss Dawes promised me; would you like to run downand get it for me, dear?""Yes, mother!" and that answer was as blithe as a robin's chirp, forthat was just where Merry wanted to go.
　　Away went thimble and scissors, and in five minutes away wentMerry, skipping down the hill without a care in the world, for ahappy heart sat singing within, and everything seemed full ofbeauty.
　　She had a capital time with Molly, called on Jill, did her shoppingin the village, and had just turned to walk up the hill, when RalphEvans came tramping along behind her, looking so pleased andproud about something that she could not help asking what it was,for they were great friends, and Merry thought that to be an artistwas the most glorious career a man could choose.
　　"I know you've got some good news," she said, looking up at himas he touched his hat and fell into step with her, seeming morecontented than before.
　　"I have, and was just coming up to tell you, for I was sure youwould be glad. It is only a hope, a chance, but it is so splendid Ifeel as if I must shout and dance, or fly over a fence or two, to letoff steam.""Do tell me, quick; have you got an order?" asked Merry, full ofinterest at once, for artistic vicissitudes were very romantic, andshe liked to hear about them.
　　"I may go abroad in the autumn.""Oh, how lovely!""Isn't it? David German is going to spend a year in Rome, to finisha statue, and wants me to go along. Grandma is willing, as cousinMaria wants her for a long visit, so everything looks promising andI really think I may go.""Won't it cost a great deal?" asked Merry, who, in spite of her littleelegancies, had a good deal of her thrifty mother's common sense.
　　"Yes; and I've got to earn it. But I can--I know I can, for I've savedsome, and I shall work like ten beavers all summer. I won't borrowif I can help it, but I know someone who would lend me fivehundred if I wanted it"; and Ralph looked as eager and secure as ifthe earning of twice that sum was a mere trifle when all thelonging of his life was put into his daily tasks.
　　"I wish 1 had it to give you. It must be so splendid to feel that youcan do great things if you only have the chance. And to travel, andsee all the lovely pictures and statues, and people and places inItaly. Flow happy you must be!" and Merry's eyes had the wistfullook they always wore when she dreamed dreams of the world sheloved to live in.
　　"I am--so happy that I'm afraid it never will happen. If I do go, I'llwrite and tell you all about the fine sights, and how I get on.
　　Would you like me to?" asked Ralph, beginning enthusiasticallyand ending rather bashfully, for he admired Merry very much, andwas not quite sure how this proposal would be received.
　　"Indeed I should! I'd feel so grand to have letters from Paris andRome, and you'd have so much to tell it would be almost as goodas going myself," she said, looking off into the daffodil sky, as theypaused a minute on the hill-top to get breath, for both had walkedas fast as they talked.
　　"And will you answer the letters?" asked Ralph, watching theinnocent face, which looked unusually kind and beautiful to him inthat soft light.
　　'Why, yes; I'd love to, only I shall not have anything interesting tosay. What can I write about?" and Merry smiled as she thoughthow dull her letters would sound after the exciting details hiswould doubtless give.
　　"Write about yourself, and all the rest of the people I know.
　　Grandma will be gone, and I shall want to hear how you get on."Ralph looked very anxious indeed to hear, and Merry promised shewould tell all about the other people, adding, as she turned fromthe evening peace and loveliness to the house, whence came theclatter of milk-pans and the smell of cooking,"I never should have anything very nice to tell about myself, for Idon't do interesting things as you do, and you wouldn't care to hearabout school, and sewing, and messing round at home."Merry gave a disdainful little sniff at the savory perfume of hamwhich saluted them, and paused with her hand on the gate, as ifshe found it pleasanter out there than in the house. Ralph seemedto agree with her, for, leaning on the gate, he lingered to say, withreal sympathy in his tone and something else in his face, "Yes, Ishould; so you write and tell me all about it. I didn'tknow you had any worries, for you always seemed like one of thehappiest people in the world, with so many to pet and care for you,and plenty of money, and nothing very hard or hateful to do. You'dthink you were well off if you knew as much about poverty andwork and never getting what you want, as I do.""You bear your worries so well that nobody knows you have them.
　　I ought not to complain, and I won't, for I do have all I need. I'm soglad you are going to get what you want at last"; and Merry heldout her hand to say good-night, with so much pleasure in her facethat Ralph could not make up his mind to go just yet.
　　"I shall have to scratch round in a lively way before I do get it, forDavid says a fellow can't live on less than four or five hundred ayear, even living as poor artists have to, in garrets and on Crusts. Idon't mind as long as Grandma is all right. She is away to-night, orI should not be here," he added, as if some excuse was necessary.
　　Merry needed no hint, for her tender heart was touched by thevision of her friend in a garret, and she suddenly rejoiced that therewas ham and eggs for supper, so that he might be well fed once, atleast, before he went away to feed on artistic crusts.
　　"Being here, come in and spend the evening. The boys will like tohear the news, and so will father. Do, now."It was impossible to refuse the invitation he had been longing for,and in they went to the great delight of Roxy, who instantly retiredto the pantry, smiling significantly, and brought out the mostelaborate pie in honor of the occasion. Merry touched up the table,and put a little vase of flowers in the middle to redeem thevulgarity of doughnuts. Of course the boys upset it, but as therewas company nothing was said, and Ralph devoured his supperwith the appetite of a hungry boy, while watching Merry eat breadand cream out of an old-fashioned silver porringer, and thinking itthe sweetest sight he ever beheld.
　　Then the young people gathered about the table, full of the newplans, and the elders listened as they rested after the week's work.
　　A pleasant evening, for they all liked Ralph, but as the parentswatched Merry sitting among the great lads like a little queenamong her subjects, half unconscious as yet of the power in herhands, they nodded to one another, and then shook their heads as ifthey said,"I'm afraid the time is coming, mother.""No danger as long as she don't know it, father."At nine the boys went off to the barn, the farmer to wind up theeight-day clock, and the housewife to see how the baked beans andIndian pudding for to-morrow were getting on in the oven. Ralphtook up his hat to go, saying as he looked at the shade on the tallstudent lamp,"What a good light that gives! I can see it as I go home every night,and it burns up here like a beacon. I always look for it, and ithardly ever fails to be burning. Sort of cheers up the way, youknow, when I'm tired or low in my mind.""Then I'm very glad I got it. I liked the shape, but the boys laughedat it as they did at my buirushes in a ginger-jar over there. I'd beenreading about 'household art,' and I thought I'd try a little,"answered Merry, laughing at her own whims.
　　"You've got a better sort of household art, I think, for you makepeople happy and places pretty, without fussing over it. This roomis ever so much improved every time I come, though I hardly seewhat it is except the flowers," said Ralph, looking from the girl tothe tall calla that bent its white cup above her as if to pour its dewupon her head.
　　"Isn't that lovely? I tried to draw it--the shape was so graceful Iwanted to keep it. But I couldn't. Isn't it a pity such beautiful thingswon't last forever?" and Merry looked regretfully at the half-fadedone that grew beside the fresh blossom.
　　"I can keep it for you. It would look well in plaster. May I?" askedRalph.
　　"Thank you, I should like that very much. Take the real one as amodel--please do; there are more coming, and this will brighten upyour room for a day or two."As she spoke, Merry cut the stem, and, adding two or three of thegreat green leaves, put the handsome flower in his hand with somuch good-will that he felt as if he had received a very preciousgift. Then he said good-night so gratefully that Merry's hand quitetingled with the grasp of his, and went away, often lookingbackward through the darkness to where the light burned brightlyon the hill-top--the beacon kindled by an unconscious Hero for ayoung Leander swimming gallantly against wind and tide towardthe goal of his ambition.
Chapter 17
Down at Molly's"Now, my dears, I've something very curious to tell you, so listenquietly and then I'll give you your dinners," said Molly, addressingthe nine cats who came trooping after her as she went into theshed-chamber with a bowl of milk and a plate of scraps in herhands. She had taught them to behave well at meals, so, thoughtheir eyes glared and their tails quivered with impatience, theyobeyed; and when she put the food on a high shelf and retired tothe big basket, the four old cats sat demurely down before her,while the five kits scrambled after her and tumbled into her lap, asif hoping to hasten the desired feast by their innocent gambols.
　　Granny, Tobias, Mortification, and Molasses were the elders.
　　Granny, a gray old puss, was the mother and grandmother of all therest. Tobias was her eldest son, and Mortification his brother, sonamed because he had lost his tail, which affliction depressed hisspirits and cast a blight over his young life. Molasses was a yellowcat, the mamma of four of the kits, the fifth being Granny's latestdarling. Toddlekins, the little aunt, was the image of her mother,and very sedate even at that early age; Miss Muffet, so called fromher dread of spiders, was a timid black and white kit; Beauty, apretty Maltese, with a serene little face and pink nose; Ragbag, afunny thing, every color that a cat could be; and Scamp, who welldeserved his name, for he was the plague of Miss Bat's life, andMolly's especial pet.
　　He was now perched on her shoulder, and, as she talked, keptpeeping into her face or biting her ear in the most impertinent way,while the others sprawled in her lap or promenaded round thebasket rim.
　　"My friends, something very remarkable has happened: Miss Bat iscleaning house!" and, having made this announcement, Mollyleaned back to see how the cats received it, for she insisted thatthey understood all she said to them.
　　Tobias stared, Mortification lay down as if it was too much forhim, Molasses beat her tail on the floor as if whipping a dustycarpet, and Granny began to purr approvingly. The giddy kits paidno attention, as they did not know what house-cleaning meant,happy little dears!
　　"I thought you'd like it, Granny, for you are a decent cat, and knowwhat is proper," continued Molly, leaning down to stroke the oldpuss, who blinked affectionately at her. "I can't imagine what put itinto Miss Bat's head. I never said a word, and gave up groaningover the clutter, as I couldn't mend it. I just took care of Boo andmyself, and left her to be as untidy as she pleased, and she is aregular old----"Here Scamp put his paw on her lips because he saw them moving,but it seemed as if it was to check the disrespectful word justcoming out.
　　"Well, I won't call names; but what shall I do when I seeeverything in confusion, and she won't let me clear up?" askedMolly, looking round at Scamp, who promptly put the little paw onher eyelid, as if the roll of the blue ball underneath amused him.
　　"Shut my eyes to it, you mean? I do all I can, but it is hard, when Iwish to be nice, and do try; don't I?" asked Molly. But Scamp wasready for her, and began to comb her hair with both paws as hestood on his hind legs to work so busily that Molly laughed andpulled him down, saying, as she cuddled the sly kit.
　　"You sharp little thing! I know my hair is not neat now, for I'vebeen chasing Boo round the garden to wash him for school. ThenMiss Bat threw the parlor carpet out of the window, and I was sosurprised I had to run and tell you. Now, what had we better doabout it?"The cats all winked at her, but no one had any advice to offer,except Tobias, who walked to the shelf, and, looking up, uttered adeep, suggestive yowl, which said as plainly as words, "Dinnerfirst and discussion afterward.""Very well, don't scramble," said Molly, getting up to feed herpets. First the kits, who rushed at the bowl and thrust their headsin, lapping as if for a wager; then the cats, who each went to one ofthe four piles of scraps laid round at intervals and placidly ate theirmeat; while Molly retired to the basket, to ponder over thephenomena taking place in the house.
　　She could not imagine what had started the old lady. It was not theexample of her neighbors, who had beaten carpets and scrubbedpaint every spring for years without exciting her to any greaterexertion than cleaning a few windows and having a man to clearaway the rubbish displayed when the snow melted. Molly neverguessed that her own efforts were at the bottom of the change, orknew that a few words not meant for her ear had shamed Miss Batinto action. Coming home from prayer-meeting one dark night, shetrotted along behind two old ladies who were gossiping in loudvoices, as one was rather deaf, and Miss Bat was both pleased andtroubled to hear herself unduly praised.
　　"I always said Sister Dawes meant well; but she's getting intoyears, and the care of two children is a good deal for her, with hercooking and her rheumatiz. I don't deny she did neglect 'em for aspell, but she does well by 'em now, and I wouldn't wish to seebetter-appearing children.""You've no idee how improved Molly is. She came in to see mygirls, and brought her sewing-work, shirts for the boy, and done itas neat and capable as you'd wish to see. She always was a smartchild, but dreadful careless," said the other old lady, evidentlymuch impressed by the change in harum-scarum Molly Loo.
　　"Being over to Mis Minot's so much has been good for her, and upto Mis Grant's. Girls catch neat ways as quick as they'd o untidyones, and them wild little tykes often turn out smart women.""Sister Dawes has done well by them children, and I hope Mr.
　　Bemis sees it. He ought to give her something comfortable to liveon when she can't do for him any longer. He can well afford it.""I haven't a doubt he will. He's a lavish man when he starts to do athing, but dreadful unobserving, else he'd have seen to matters longago. Them children was town-talk last fall, and I used to feel as ifit was my bounden duty to speak to Miss Dawes. But I never did,fearing I might speak too plain, and hurt her feelings.""You've spoken plain enough now, and I'm beholden to you,though you'll never know it," said Miss Bat to herself, as sheslipped into her own gate, while the gossips trudged on quiteunconscious of the listener behind them.
　　Miss Bat was a worthy old soul in the main, only, like so many ofus, she needed rousing up to her duty. She had got the rousingnow, and it did her good, for she could not bear to be praised whenshe had not deserved it. She had watched Molly's efforts with lazyinterest, and when the girl gave up meddling with her affairs, asshe called the housekeeping, Miss Bat ceased to oppose her, andlet her scrub Boo, mend clothes, and brush her hair as much as sheliked. So Molly had worked along without any help from her,running in to Mrs. Pecq for advice, to Merry for comfort, or Mrs.
　　Minot for the higher kind of help one often needs so much. NowMiss Bat found that she was getting the credit and the praisebelonging to other people, and it stirred her up to try and deserve apart at least.
　　"Molly don't want any help about her work or the boy: it's too latefor that; but if this house don't get a spring cleaning that will makeit shine, my name ain't Bathsheba Dawes," said the old lady, as sheput away her bonnet that night, and laid energetic plans for a grandrevolution, inspired thereto not only by shame, but by the hint that"Mr. Bemis was a lavish man," as no one knew better than she.
　　Molly's amazement next day at seeing carpets fly out of window,ancient cobwebs come down, and long-undisturbed closets routedout to the great dismay of moths and mice, has been alreadyconfided to the cats, and as she sat there watching them lap andgnaw, she said to herself,"I don't understand it, but as she never says much to me about myaffairs, I won't take any notice till she gets through, then I'll admireeverything all I can. It is so pleasant to be praised after you've beentrying hard."She might well say that, for she got very little herself, and hertrials had been many, her efforts not always successful, and herreward seemed a long way off. Poor Boo could have sympathizedwith her, for he had suffered much persecution from his smallschoolmates when he appeared with large gray patches on the littlebrown trousers, where he had worn them out coasting down thosetoo fascinating steps. As he could not see the patches himself, hefancied them invisible, and came home much afflicted by the jeersof his friends. Then Molly tried to make him a new pair out of asack of her own; but she cut both sides for the same leg, so onewas wrong side out. Fondly hoping no one would observe it, shesewed bright buttons wherever they could be put, and sentconfiding Boo away in a pair of blue trousers, which were absurdlyhunchy behind and buttony before. He came home heart-brokenand muddy, having been accidentally tipped into a mud-puddle bytwo bad boys who felt that such tailoring was an insult to mankind.
　　That roused Molly's spirit, and she begged her father to take theboy and have him properly fitted out, as he was old enough now tobe well-dressed, and she wouldn't have him tormented. Hisattention being called to the trousers, Mr. Bemis had a good laughover them, and then got Boo a suit which caused him to be theadmired of all observers, and to feel as proud as a little peacock.
　　Cheered by this success, Molly undertook a set of small shirts, andstitched away bravely, though her own summer clothes were in asad state, and for the first time in her life she cared about what sheshould wear.
　　"I must ask Merry, and maybe father will let me go with her andher mother when they do their shopping, instead of leaving it toMiss Bat, who dresses me like an old woman. Merry knows whatis pretty and becoming: I don't," thought Molly, meditating in thebushel basket, with her eyes on her snuff-colored gown and thedark purple bow at the end of the long braid Muffet had beenplaying with.
　　Molly was beginning to see that even so small a matter as thechoice of colors made a difference in one's appearance, and towonder why Merry always took such pains to have a blue tie forthe gray dress, a rosy one for the brown, and gloves that matchedher bonnet ribbons. Merry never wore a locket outside her sack, agay bow in her hair and soiled cuffs, a smart hat and the braidworn off her skirts. She was exquisitely neat and simple, yetalways looked well-dressed and pretty; for her love of beautytaught her what all girls should learn as soon as they begin to carefor appearances--that neatness and simplicity are their bestornaments, that good habits are better than fine clothes, and themost elegant manners are the kindest.
　　All these thoughts were dancing through Molly's head, and whenshe left her cats, after a general romp in which even decorousGranny allowed her family to play leap-frog over her respectableback, she had made up her mind not to have yellow ribbons on hersummer hat if she got a pink muslin as she had planned, but tofinish off Boo's last shirt before she went shopping with Merry.
　　It rained that evening, and Mr. Bemis had a headache, so he threwhimself down upon the lounge after tea for a nap, with his silkhandkerchief spread over his face. He did get a nap, and when hewaked he lay for a time drowsily listening to the patter of the rain,and another sound which was even more soothing. Putting back acorner of the handkerchief to learn what it was, he saw Mollysitting by the fire with Boo in her lap, rocking and humming as shewarmed his little bare feet, having learned to guard against croupby attending to the damp shoes and socks before going to bed. Boolay with his round face turned up to hers, stroking her cheek whilethe sleepy blue eyes blinked lovingly at her as she sang her lullabywith a motherly patience sweet to see. They made a pretty littlepicture, and Mr. Bemis looked at it with pleasure, having a leisuremoment in which to discover, as all parents do sooner or later, thathis children were growing up.
　　"Molly is getting to be quite a woman, and very like her mother,"thought papa, wiping the eye that peeped, for he had been fond ofthe pretty wife who died when Boo was born. "Sad loss to them,poor things! But Miss Bat seems to have done well by them. Mollyis much improved, and the boy looks finely. She's a good soul,after all"; and Mr. Bemis began to think he had been hasty whenhe half made up his mind to get a new housekeeper, feeling thatburnt steak, weak coffee, and ragged wristbands were sure signsthat Miss Bat's days of usefulness were over.
　　Molly was singing the lullaby her mother used to sing to her, andher father listened to it silently till Boo was carried away toosleepy for anything but bed. When she came back she sat down toher work, fancying her father still asleep. She had a crimson bowat her throat and one on the newly braided hair, her cuffs wereclean, and a white apron hid the shabbiness of the old dress. Shelooked like a thrifty little housewife as she sat with her basketbeside her full of neat white rolls, her spools set forth, and a newpair of scissors shining on the table. There was a sort of charm inwatching the busy needle flash to and fro, the anxious pucker ofthe forehead as she looked to see if the stitches were even, and theexpression of intense relief upon her face as she surveyed thefinished button-hole with girlish satisfaction. Her father was wideawake and looking at her, thinking, as he did so,"Really the old lady has worked well to change my tomboy intothat nice little girl: I wonder how she did it." Then he gave a yawn,pulled off the handkerchief, and said aloud, 'What are you making,Molly?" for it struck him that sewing was a new amusement.
　　"Shirts for Boo, sir. Four, and this is the last," she answered, withpardonable pride, as she held it up and nodded toward the pile inher basket.
　　"Isn't that a new notion? I thought Miss Bat did the sewing," saidMr. Bemis, as he smiled at the funny little garment, it looked solike Boo himself.
　　"No, sir; only yours. I do mine and Boo's. At least, I'm learninghow, and Mrs. Pecq says I get on nicely," answered Molly,threading her needle and making a knot in her most capable way.
　　"I suppose it is time you did learn, for you are getting to be a greatgirl, and all women should know how to make and mend. Youmust take a stitch for me now and then: Miss Bat's eyes are notwhat they were, I find"; and Mr. Bemis looked at his frayedwristband, as if he particularly felt the need of a stitch just then.
　　"I'd love to, and I guess I could. I can mend gloves; Merry taughtme, so I'd better begin on them, if you have any," said Molly, muchpleased at being able to do anything for her father, and still moreso at being asked.
　　"There's something to start with"; and he threw her a pair, withnearly every finger ripped.
　　Molly shook her head over them, but got out her gray silk and fellto work, glad to show how well she could sew.
　　"What are you smiling about?" asked her father, after a little pause,for his head felt better, and it amused him to question Molly.
　　"I was thinking about my summer clothes. I must get them beforelong, and I'd like to go with Mrs. Grant and learn how to shop, ifyou are willing."I thought Miss Bat did that for you.
　　"She always has, but she gets ugly, cheap things that I don't like. Ithink I am old enough to choose myself, if there is someone to tellme about prices and the goodness of the stuff. Merry does; and sheis only a few months older than I am.""How old are you, child?" asked her father, feeling as if he had losthis reckoning.
　　"Fifteen in August"; and Molly looked very proud of the fact.
　　"So you are! Bless my heart, how the time goes! Well, get whatyou please; if I'm to have a young lady here, I'd like to have herprettily dressed. It won't offend Miss Bat, will it?"Molly's eyes sparkled, but she gave a little shrug as she answered,"She won't care. She never troubles herself about me if I iet ncralone.
　　"Hey? what? Not trouble herself? If she doesn't, who does?" andMr. Bemis sat up as if this discovery was more surprising than theother.
　　"I take care of myself and Boo, and she looks after you. The housegoes anyway.""I should think so! I nearly broke my neck over the parlor sofa inthe hall to-night. What is it there for?"Molly laughed. "That's the joke, sir, Miss Bat is cleaning house,and I'm sure it needs cleaning, for it is years since it was properlydone. I thought you might have told her to.""I've said nothing. Don't like house-cleaning well enough tosuggest it. I did think the hall was rather dirty when I dropped mycoat and took it up covered with lint. Is she going to upset thewhole place?" asked Mr. Bemis, looking alarmed at the prospect.
　　"I hope so, for I really am ashamed when people come, to havethem see the dust and cobwebs, and old carpets and dirtywindows," said Molly, with a sigh, though she never had cared abit till lately.
　　"Why don't you dust round a little, then? No time to spare from thebooks and play?""I tried, father, but Miss Bat didn't like it, and it was too hard forme alone. If things were once in nice order, I think I could keepthem so; for I do want to be neat, and I'm learning as fast as I can.""It is high time someone took hold, if matters are left as you say.
　　I've just been thinking what a clever woman Miss Bat was, to makesuch a tidy little girl out of what I used to hear called the greatesttomboy in town, and wondering what I could give the old lady.
　　Now I find you are the one to be thanked, and it is a very pleasantsurprise to me.""Give her the present, please; I'm satisfied, if you like what I'vedone. It isn't much, and I'd idn't know as you would ever observeany difference. But I'd id try, and now I guess I'm really gettingon," said Molly, sewing away with a bright color in her cheeks, forshe, too, found it a pleasant surprise to be praised after manyfailures and few successes.
　　"You certainly are, my dear. I'll wait till the house-cleaning is over,and then, if we are all alive, I'll see about Miss Bat's reward.
　　Meantime, you go with Mrs. Grant and get whatever you and theboy need, and send the bills to me"; and Mr. Bemis lighted a cigar,as if that matter was settled.
　　"Oh, thank you, sir! That will be splendid. Merry always has prettythings, and I know you will like me when I get fixed," said Molly,smoothing down her apron, with a little air.
　　"Seems to me you look very well as you are. Isn't that a prettyenough frock?" asked Mr. Bemis, quite unconscious that his ownunusual interest in his daughter's affairs made her look so brightand winsome.
　　"This? Why, father, I've worn it all winter, and it's frightfully ugly,and almost in rags. I asked you for a new one a month ago, and yousaid you'd 'see about it'; but you didn't, so I patched this up as wellas I could"; and Molly showed her elbows, feeling that suchmasculine blindness as this deserved a mild reproof.
　　"Too bad! Well, go and get half a dozen pretty muslin andgingham things, and be as gay as a butterfly, to make up for it,"laughed her father, really touched by the patches and Molly'sresignation to the unreliable "I'll see about it," which he recognizedas a household word.
　　Molly clapped her hands, old gloves and all, exclaiming, withgirlish delight, "How nice it will seem to have a plenty of new,neat dresses all at once, and be like other girls! Miss Bat alwaystalks about economy, and has no more taste than a--caterpillar."Molly meant to say "cat," but remembering her pets, spared themthe insult.
　　"I think I can afford to dress my girl as well as Grant does his. Geta new hat and coat, child, and any little notions you fancy. MissBat's economy isn't the sort I like"; and Mr. Bemis looked at hiswristbands again, as if he could sympathize with Molly's elbows.
　　"At this rate, I shall have more clothes than I know what to dowith, after being a rag-bag," thought the girl, in great glee, as shebravely stitched away at the worst glove, while her father smokedsilently for a while, feeling that several little matters had escapedhis eye which he really ought to "see about."Presently he went to his desk, but not to bury himself in businesspapers, as usual, for, after rummaging in several drawers, he tookout a small bunch of keys, and sat looking at them with anexpression only seen on his face when he looked up at the portraitof a dark-eyed woman hanging in his room. He was a very busyman, but he had a tender place in his heart for his children; andwhen a look, a few words, a moment's reflection, called hisattention to the fact that his little girl was growing up, he foundboth pride and pleasure in the thought that this young daughter wastrying to fill her mother's place, and be a comfort to him, if hewould let her.
　　"Molly, my dear, here is something for you," he said; and when shestood beside him, added, as he put the keys into her hand, keepingboth in his own for a minute,"Those are the keys to your mother's things. I always meant you tohave them, when you were old enough to use or care for them. Ithink you'ii fancy this better than any other present, for you are agood child, and very like her."Something seemed to get into his throat there, and Molly put herarm round his neck, saying, with a little choke in her own voice,"Thank you, father, I'd rather have this than anything else in theworld, and I'll try to be more like her every day, for your sake.
　　He kissed her, then said, as he began to stir his papers about, "Imust write some letters. Run off to bed, child. Good-night, mydear, good-night."Seeing that he wanted to be alone, Molly slipped away, feeling thatshe had received a very precious gift; for she remembered the dear,dead mother, and had often longed to possess the relics laid awayin the one room where order reigned and Miss Bat had no power tomeddle. As she siowly undressed, she was not thinking of thepretty new gowns in which she was to be "as gay as a butterfly,"but of the half-worn garments waiting for her hands to unfold witha tender touch; and when she fell asleep, with the keys under herpillow and her arms round Boo, a few happy tears on her cheeksseemed to show that, in trying to do the duty which lay nearest her,she had earned a very sweet reward.
　　So the little missionaries succeeded better in their second attemptthan in their first; for, though still very far from being perfect girls,each was slowly learning, in her own way, one of the three lessonsall are the better for knowing--that cheerfulness can changemisfortune into love and friends; that in ordering one's self arightone helps others to do the same; and that the power of findingbeauty in the humblest things makes home happy and life lovely.
Chapter 18
May BasketsSpring was late that year, but to Jill it seemed the loveliest she hadever known, for hope was growing green and strong in her ownlittle heart, and all the world looked beautiful. With the help of thebrace she could sit up for a short time every day, and when the airwas mild enough she was warmly wrapped and allowed to look outat the open window into the garden, where the gold and purplecrocuses were coming bravely up, and the snowdrops nodded theirdelicate heads as if calling to her,"Good day, little sister, come out and play with us, for winter isover and spring is here.""I wish I could!" thought Jill, as the soft wind kissed a tinge ofcolor into her pale cheeks. "Never mind, they have been shut up ina darker place than I for months, and had no fun at all; I won't fret,but think about July and the seashore while I work."The job now in hand was May baskets, for it was the custom of thechildren to hang them on the doors of their friends the night beforeMay-day; and the girls had agreed to supply baskets if the boyswould hunt for flowers, much the harder task of the two. Jill hadmore leisure as well as taste and skill than the other girls, so sheamused herself with making a goodly store of pretty baskets of allshapes, sizes, and colors, quite confident that they would be filled,though not a flower had shown its head except a few hardydandelions, and here and there a small cluster of saxifrage.
　　The violets would not open their blue eyes till the sunshine waswarmer, the columbines refused to dance with the boisterous eastwind, the ferns kept themselves rolled up in their brown flanneljackets, and little Hepatica, with many another spring beauty, hidaway in the woods, afraid to venture out, in spite of the eagerwelcome awaiting them. But the birds had come, punctual as ever,and the bluejays were screaming in the orchard, robins wereperking up their heads and tails as they went house-hunting, purplefinches in their little red hoods were feasting on the spruce buds,and the faithful chip birds chirped gayly on the grapevine trelliswhere they had lived all winter, warming their little gray breastsagainst the southern side of the house when the sun shone, andhiding under the evergreen boughs when the snow fell.
　　"That tree is a sort of bird's hotel," said Jill, looking out at the tallspruce before her window, every spray now tipped with a softgreen. "They all go there to sleep and eat, and it has room foreveryone, It is green when other trees die, the wind can't break it,and the snow only makes it look prettier. It sings to me, and nodsas if it knew I loved it.""We might call it 'The Holly Tree Inn,' as some of the cheapeating-houses for poor people are called in the city, as my hollybush grows at its foot for a sign. You can be the landlady, and feedyour feathery customers every day, till the hard times are over,"said Mrs. Minot, glad to see the child's enjoyment of the outerworld from which she had been shut so long.
　　Jill liked the fancy, and gladly strewed crumbs on the windowledge for the chippies, who came confidingly to eat almost fromher hand. She threw out grain for the handsome jays, the jauntyrobins, and the neighbors' doves, who came with soft flight to tripabout on their pink feet, arching their shining necks as they cooedand pecked. Carrots and cabbage-leaves also flew out of thewindow for the marauding gray rabbit, last of all Jack's half-dozen,who led him a weary life of it because they would not stay in theBunny-house, but undermined the garden with their burrows, atethe neighbors' plants, and refused to be caught till all but one ranaway, to Jack's great relief. This old fellow camped out for thewinter, and seemed to get on very well among the cats and thehens, who shared their stores with him, and he might be seen at allhours of the day and night scampering about the place, or kickingup his heels by moonlight, for he was a desperate poacher.
　　Jill took great delight in her pretty pensioners, who soon learned tolove "The Holly Tree Inn," and to feel that the Bird Room held acaged comrade; for, when it was too cold or wet to open thewindows, the doves came and tapped at the pane, the chippies saton the ledge in plump little bunches as if she were their sunshine,the jays called her in their shrill voices to ring the dinner-bell, andthe robins tilted on the spruce boughs where lunch was always tobe had.
　　The first of May came on Sunday, so all the celebrating must bedone on Saturday, which happily proved fair, though too chilly formuslin gowns, paper garlands, and picnics on damp grass. Being aholiday, the boys decided to devote the morning to ball and theafternoon to the flower hunt, while the girls finished the baskets;and in the evening our particular seven were to meet at the Minotsto fill them, ready for the closing frolic of hanging ondoor-handles, ringing bells, and running away.
　　"Now I must do my Maying, for there will be no more sunshine,and I want to pick my flowers before it is dark. Come, Mammy,you go too," said Jill, as the last sunbeams shone in at the westernwindow where her hyacinths stood that no fostering ray might belost.
　　It was rather pathetic to see the once merry girl who used to be thelife of the wood-parties now carefully lifting herself from thecouch, and, leaning on her mother's strong arm, slowly take thehalf-dozen steps that made up her little expedition. But she washappy, and stood smiling out at old Bun skipping down the walk,the gold-edged clouds that drew apart so that a sunbeam tiiightgive her a good-night kiss as she gathered her long-cherisheddaisies, primroses, and hyacinths to fill the pretty basket in herhand.
　　"Who is it for, my deane?" asked her mother, standing behind heras a prop, while the thin fingers did their work so willingly thatnot~a flower was left.
　　"For My Lady, of course. Who else would I give my posies to,when I love them so well?" answered Jill, who thought no nametoo fine for their best friend.
　　"I fancied it would be for Master Jack," said her mother, wishingthe excursion to be a cheerful one.
　　"I've another for him, but she must have the prettiest. He is goingto hang it for me, and ring and run away, and she won't know whoit's from till she sees this. She will remember it, for I've beenturning and tending it ever so long, to make it bloom to-day. Isn't ita beauty?" and Jill held up her finest hyacinth, which seemed toring its pale pink bells as if glad to carry its sweet message from agrateful little heart.
　　"Indeed it is; and you are right to give your best to her. Come awaynow, you must not stand any longer. Come and rest while I fetch adish to put the flowers in till you want them"; and Mrs. Pecqturned her round with her small Maying safely done.
　　"I didn't think I'd ever be able to do even so much, and here I amwalking and sitting up, and going to drive some day. Isn't it nicethat I'm not to be a poor Lucinda after all?" and Jill drew a longsigh of relief that six months instead of twenty years wouldprobably be the end of her captivity.
　　"Yes, thank Heaven! I don't think I could have borne that"; andthe mother took Jill in her arms as if she were a baby, holding herclose for a minute, and laying her down with a tender kiss thatmade the arms cling about her neck as her little girl returned itheartily, for all sorts of new, sweet feelings seemed to be buddingin both, born of great joy and thankfulness.
　　Then Mrs. Pecq hurried away to see about tea for the hungry boys,and Jill watched the pleasant twilight deepen as she lay singing toherself one of the songs her friend taught her because it fitted herso well.
　　"A little bird I am,Shut from the fields of air,And in my cage I sit and singTo Him who placed me there:
　　Well pleased a prisoner to be,Because, my God, it pleases Thee!
　　"Naught have I else to do;I sing the whole day long;And He whom most I love to pleaseDoth listen to my song,He caught and bound my wandering wing,But still He bends to hear me sing.""Now we are ready for you, so bring on your flowers," said Mollyto the boys, as she and Merry added their store of baskets to thegay show Jill had set forth on the long table ready for the evening'swork.
　　"They wouldn't let me see one, but I guess they have had goodluck, they look so jolly," answered Jill, looking at Gus, Frank, andJack, who stood laughing, each with a large basket in his hands.
　　"Fair to middling. Just look in and see"; with which cheerfulremark Gus tipped up his basket and displayed a few bits of greenat the bottom.
　　"I'd id better. Now, don't all scream at once over these beauties";and Frank shook out some evergreen sprigs, half a dozensaxifrages, and two or three forlorn violets with hardly any stems.
　　"I don't brag, but here's the best of all the three," chuckled Jack,producing a bunch of feathery carrot-tops, with a few half-shutdandelions trying to look brave and gay.
　　"Oh, boys, is that all?""What shall we do?""We've only a few house-flowers, and all those baskets to fill,"cried the girls, in despair; for Merry's contribution had been small,and Molly had only a handful of artificial flowers "to fill up," shesaid.
　　"It isn't our fault: it is the late spring. We can't make flowers, canwe?" asked Frank, in a tone of calm resignation.
　　"Couldn't you buy some, then?" said Molly, smoothing hercrumpled morning-glories, with a sigh.
　　'Who ever heard of a fellow having any money left the last day ofthe month?" demanded Gus, severely.
　　"Or girls either. I spent all mine in ribbon and paper for mybaskets, and now they are of no use. It's a shame!" lamented Jill,while Merry began to thin out her full baskets to fill the emptyones.
　　"Hold on!" cried Frank, relenting. "Now, Jack, make their mindseasy before they begin to weep and wail.""Left the box outside. You tell while I go for it"; and Jack bolted,as if afraid the young ladies might be too demonstrative when thetale was told.
　　"Tell away," said Frank, modestly passing the story along to Gus,who made short work of it.
　　"We rampaged all over the country, and got only that small messof greens. Knew you'd be disgusted, and sat down to see what wecould do. Then Jack piped up, and said he'd show us a place wherewe could get a plenty. 'Come on,' said we, and after leading us anice tramp, he brought us out at Morse's greenhouse.
　　So we got a few on tick, as we had but four cents among us, andthere you are. Pretty clever of the little chap, wasn't it?"A chorus of delight greeted Jack as he popped his head in, waspromptly seized by his elders and walked up to the table, where thebox was opened, displaying gay posies enough to fill most of thebaskets if distributed with great economy and much green.
　　"You are the dearest boy that ever was!" began Jill, with her noseluxuriously buried in the box, though the flowers were moreremarkable for color than perfume.
　　"No, I'm not; there's a much dearer one coming upstairs now, andhe's got something that will make you howl for joy," said Jack,ignoring his own prowess as Ed came in with a bigger box, lookingas if he had done nothing but go a Maying all his days.
　　"Don't believe it!" cried Jill, hugging her own treasure jealously.
　　"It's oniy another joke. I won't look," said Molly, still struggling tomake her cambric roses bloom again.
　　"I know what it is! Oh, how sweet!" added Merry, sniffing, as Edset the box before her, saying pleasantly,"You shall see first, because you had faith."Up went the cover, and a whiff of the freshest fragrance regaledthe seven eager noses bent to inhale it, as a general murmur ofpleasure greeted the nest of great, rosy mayflowers that lay beforethem.
　　"The dear things, how lovely they are!" and Merry looked as ifgreeting her cousins, so blooming and sweet was her own face.
　　Molly pushed her dingy garlands away, ashamed of such poorattempts beside these perfect works of nature, and Jill stretchedout her hand involuntarily, as she said, forgetting her exotics,"Give me just one to smell of, it is so woodsy and delicious.""Here you are, plenty for all. Real Pilgrim Fathers, right fromPlymouth. One of our fellows lives there, and I told him to bringme a good lot; so he did, and you can do what you like with them,"explained Ed, passing round bunches and shaking the rest in amossy pile upon the table.
　　"Ed always gets ahead of us in doing the right thing at the righttime. Hope you've got some first-class baskets ready for him," saidGus, refreshing the Washingtonian nose with a pink blossom ortwo.
　　"Not much danger of his being forgotten," answered Molly; andeveryone laughed, for Ed was much beloved by all the girls, andhis door-steps always bloomed like a flower-bed on May eve.
　　"Now we must fly round and fill up. Come, boys, sort out the greenand hand us the flowers as we want them. Then we must directthem, and, by the time that is done, you can go and leave them,"said Jill, setting all to work.
　　"Ed must choose his baskets first. These are ours; but any of thoseyou can have"; and Molly pointed to a detachment of gay baskets,set apart from those already partly filled.
　　Ed chose a blue one, and Merry filled it with the rosiestmay-flowers, knowing that it was to hang on Mabel's door-handle.
　　The others did the same, and the pretty work went on, with muchfun, till all were filled, and ready for the names or notes.
　　"Let us have poetry, as we can't get wild flowers. That will berather fine," proposed Jill, who liked jingles.
　　All had had some practice at the game parties, and pencils wentbriskly for a few minutes, while silence reigned, as the poetsracked their brains for rhymes, and stared at the blooming arraybefore them for inspiration.
　　"Oh, dear! I can't find a word to rhyme to 'geranium,'" sighedMolly, pulling her braid, as if to pump the well of her fancy dry.
　　"Cranium," said Frank, who was getting on bravely with "Annette"and "violet.""That is elegant!" and Molly scribbled away in great glee, for herpoems were always funny ones.
　　"How do you spell anemoly--the wild flower, I mean?" asked Jill,who was trying to compose a very appropriate piece for her bestbasket, and found it easier to feel love and gratitude than to putthem into verse.
　　"Anemone; do spell it properly, or you'll get laughed at," answeredGus, wildly struggling to make his lines express great ardor,without being "too spoony," as he expressed it.
　　"No, I shouldn't. This person never laughs at other persons'
　　mistakes, as some persons do," replied Jill, with dignity.
　　Jack was desperately chewing his pencil, for he could not get on atall; but Ed had evidently prepared his poem, for his paper was halffull already, and Merry was smiling as she wrote a friendly line ortwo for Ralph's basket, as she feared he would be forgotten, andknew he loved kindness even more than he did beauty.
　　"Now let's read them," proposed Molly, who loved to laugh even atherself.
　　The boys politely declined, and scrambled their notes into thechosen baskets in great haste; but the girls were less bashful. Jillwas invited to begin, and gave her little piece, with the pinkhyacinth basket before her, to illustrate her poem.
　　"TO MY LADY"There are no flowers in the fields,No green leaves on the tree,No columbines, no violets,No sweet anemone.
　　So I have gathered from my potsAll that I have to fillThe basket that I hang to-night,With heaps of love from Jill.""That's perfectly sweet! Mine isn't; but I meant it to be funny," saidMolly, as if there could be any doubt about the following ditty:
　　"Dear Grif,Here is a whiffOf beautiful spring flowers;The big red roseIs for your nose,As toward the sky it towers.
　　"Oh, do noi frownUpon this crownOf green pinks and blue geraniumBut think of meWhen this you see,And put it on your cranium.""O Molly, you will never hear the last of that if Grif gets it," saidJill, as the applause subsided, for the boys pronounced it "tip-top.""Don't care, he gets the worst of it anyway, for there is a pin in thatrose, and if he goes to smell the mayflowers underneath he willfind a thorn to pay for the tack he put in my rubber boot. I know hewill play me some joke to-night, and I mean to be first if I can,"answered Molly, settling the artificial wreath round theorange-colored canoe which held her effusion.
　　"Now, Merry, read yours: you always have sweet poems"; and Jillfolded her hands to listen with pleasure to something sentimental.
　　"I can't read the poems in some of mine, because they are for you;but this little verse you can hear, if you like: I'm going to give thatbasket to Ralph. He said he should hang one for his grandmother,and I thought that was so nice of him, I'd love to surprise him withone all to himself. He's always so good to us"; and Merry looked soinnocently earnest that no one smiled at her kind thought or theunconscious paraphrase she had made of a famous stanza in herown "little verse.""To one who teaches meThe sweetness and the beautyOf doing faithfullyAnd cheerfully my duty.""He will like that, and know who sent it, for none of us have prettypink paper but you, or write such an elegant hand," said Molly,admiring the delicate white basket shaped like a lily, with theflowers inside and the note hidden among them, all daintily tied upwith the palest blush-colored ribbon.
　　"Well, that's no harm. He likes pretty things as much as I'd o, and Imade my basket like a flower because I gave him one of my callas,he admired the shape so much"; and Merry smiled as sheremembered how pleased Ralph looked as he went away carryingthe lovely thing.
　　"I think it would be a good plan to hang some baskets on the doorsof other people who don't expect or often have any. I'll do it if youcan spare some of these, we have so many. Give me only one, andlet the others go to old Mrs. Tucker, and the little Irish girl whohas been sick so long, and lame Neddy, and Daddy Munson. Itwould please and surprise them so. Will we?" asked Ed, in thatpersuasive voice of his.
　　All agreed at once, and several people were made very happy by abit of spring left at their doors by the May elves who haunted thetown that night playing all sorts of pranks. Such a twanging ofbells and rapping of knockers; such a scampering of feet in thedark; such droll collisions as boys came racing round corners, orgirls ran into one another's arms as they crept up and down stepson the sly; such laughing, whistling, flying about of flowers andfriendly feeling--it was almost a pity that May-day did not comeoftener.
　　Molly got home late, and found that Grif had been before her, afterall; for she stumbled over a market-basket at her door, and ontaking it in found a mammoth nosegay of purple and whitecabbages, her favorite vegetable. Even Miss Bat laughed at thefunny sight, and Molly resolved to get Ralph to carve her abouquet out of carrots, beets, and turnips for next time, as Grifwould never think of that.
　　Merry ran up the garden-walk alone, for Frank left her at the gate,and was fumbling for the latch when she felt something hangingthere. Opening the door carefully, she found it gay with offeringsfrom her mates; and among them was one long quiver-shapedbasket of birch bark, with something heavy under the green leavesthat lay at the top. Lifting these, a slender has-relief of a calla lilyin plaster appeared, with this couplet slipped into the blue cord bywhich it was to hang:
　　"That mercy you to others showThat Mercy Grant to me.""How lovely! and this one will never fade, but always be apleasure hanging there. Now, I really have something beautiful allmy own," said Merry to herself as she ran up to hang the prettything on the dark wainscot of her room, where the graceful curveof its pointed leaves and the depth of its white cup would be a joyto her eyes as long as they lasted.
　　"I wonder what that means," and Merry read over the lines again,while a soft color came into her cheeks and a little smile of girlishpleasure began to dimple round her lips; for she was so romantic,this touch of sentiment showed her that her friendship was morevalued than she dreamed. But she only said, "How glad I am Iremembered him, and how surprised he will be to see mayflowersin return for the lily."He was, and worked away more happily and bravely for thethought of the little friend whose eyes would daily fall on thewhite flower which always reminded him of her.
Chapter 19
Good Templars"Hi there! Bell's rung! Get up, lazy-bones!" called Frank from hisroom as the clock struck six one bright morning, and a greatcreaking and stamping proclaimed that he was astir.
　　"All right, I'm coming," responded a drowsy voice, and Jack turnedover as if to obey; but there the effort ended, and he was off again,for growing lads are hard to rouse, as many a mother knows to hersorrow.
　　Frank made a beginning on his own toilet, and then took a look athis brother, for the stillness was suspicious.
　　"I thought so! He told me to wake him, and I guess this will do it";and, filling his great sponge with water, Frank stalked into the nextroom and stood over the unconscious victim like a sternexecutioner, glad to unite business with pleasure in this agreeablemanner.
　　A woman would have relented and tried some milder means, forwhen his broad shoulders and stout limbs were hidden, Jacklooked very young and innocent in his sleep. Even Frank paused amoment to look at the round, rosy face, the curly eyelashes,half-open mouth, and the peaceful expression of a dreaming baby.
　　"I must do it, or he won't be ready for breakfast," said the Spartanbrother, and down came the sponge, cold, wet, and choky, as itwas briskly rubbed to and fro regardless of every obstacle.
　　"Come, I say! That's not fair! Leave me alone!" sputtered Jack,hitting out so vigorously that the sponge flew across the room, andFrank fell back to laugh at the indignant sufferer.
　　"I promised to wake you, and you believe in keeping promises, soI'm doing my best to get you up.""Well, you needn't pour a quart of water down a fellow's neck, andrub his nose off, need you? I'm awake, so take your old sponge andgo along," growled Jack, with one eye open and a mighty gape.
　　"See that you keep so, then, or I'll come and give you another sortof a rouser," said Frank, retiring well-pleased with his success.
　　"I shall have one good stretch, if I like. It is strengthening to themuscles, and I'm as stiff as a board with all that footballyesterday," murmured Jack, lying down for one delicious moment.
　　He shut the open eye to enjoy it thoroughly, and forgot the stretchaltogether, for the bed was warm, the pillow soft, and ahalf-finished dream still hung about his drowsy brain. Who doesnot know the fatal charm of that stolen moment--for once yield toit, and one is lost.
　　Jack was miles away "in the twinkling of a bedpost," and thepleasing dream seemed about to return, when a ruthless hand toreoff the clothes, swept him out of bed, and he really did awake tofind himself standing in the middle of his bath-pan with bothwindows open, and Frank about to pour a pail of water over him.
　　"Hold on! Yah, how cold the water is! Why, I thought I was up";and, hopping out, Jack rubbed his eyes and looked about with sucha genuine surprise that Frank put down the pail, feeling that thedeluge would not be needed this time.
　　"You are now, and I'll see that you keep so," he said, as he strippedthe bed and carried off the pillows.
　　"I don't care. What a jolly day!" and Jack took a little promenadeto finish the rousing process.
　　"You'd better hurry up, or you won't get your chores done beforebreakfast. No time for a go as you please now, said Frank; andboth boys laughed, for it was an old joke of theirs, and ratherfunny.
　　Going up to bed one night expecting to find Jack asleep, Frankdiscovered him tramping round and round the room airily attired ina towel, and so dizzy with his brisk revolutions that as his brotherlooked he tumbled over and lay panting like a fallen gladiator.
　　"What on earth are you about?""Playing Rowell. Walking for the belt, and I've got it too," laughedJack, pointing to an old gilt chandelier chain hanging on thebedpost.
　　"You little noodle, you'd better revolve into bed before you loseyour head entirely. I never saw such a fellow for taking himself offhis legs.""Well, if I didn't exercise, do you suppose I should be able to dothat--or that?" cried Jack, turning a somersault and striking a fineattitude as he came up, flattering himself that he was the model ofa youthful athlete.
　　"You look more like a clothes-pin than a Hercules," was thecrushing reply of this unsympathetic brother, and Jack meeklyretired with a bad headache.
　　"I don't do such silly things now: I'm as broad across the shouldersas you are, and twice as strong on my pins, thanks to mygymnastics. Bet you a cent I'll be dressed first, though you have gotthe start," said Jack, knowing that Frank always had a protractedwrestle with his collar-buttons, which gave his adversary a greatadvantage over him.
　　"Done!" answered Frank, and at it they went. A wild scramble washeard in Jack's room, and a steady tramp in the other as Frankworked away at the stiff collar and the unaccommodating buttontill every finger ached. A clashing of boots followed, while Jackwhistled "Polly Hopkins," and Frank declaimed in his deepestvoice,"Arma virumque cano, Trojae qui primus ab oris Italiam, fatoprofugus, Laviniaque venit litora."Hair-brushes came next, and here Frank got ahead, for Jack's thickcrop would stand straight up on the crown, and only a goodwetting and a steady brush would make it lie down.
　　"Play away, No. 2 called out frank as he put on his vest, whileJack was still at it with a pair of the stiffest brushes procurable formoney.
　　"Hold hard, No. 11, and don't forget your teeth," answered Jack,who had done his.
　　Frank took a hasty rub and whisked on his coat, while Jack waspicking up the various treasures which had flown out of hispockets as he caught up his roundabout.
　　"Ready! I'll trouble you for a cent, sonny"; and Frank held out hishand as he appeared equipped for the day.
　　"You haven't hung up your night-gown, nor aired the bed, noropened the windows. That's part of the dressing; mother said so.
　　I've got you there, for you did all that for me, except this," and Jackthrew his gown over a chair with a triumphant flourish as Frankturned back to leave his room in the order which they had beentaught was one of the signs of a good bringing-up in boys as wellas girls.
　　"Ready! I'll trouble you for a cent, old man"; and Jack held out hishand, with a chuckle.
　　He got the money and a good clap beside; then they retired to theshed to black their boots, after which Frank filled the woodboxesand Jack split kindlings, till the daily allowance was ready. Bothwent at their lessons for half an hour, Jack scowling over hisalgebra in the sofa corner, while Frank, with his elbows on and hislegs round the little stand which held his books, seemed to behaving a wrestling-match with Herodotus.
　　When the bell rang they were glad to drop the lessons and fallupon their breakfast with the appetite of wolves, especially Jack,who sequestered oatmeal and milk with such rapidity that onewould have thought he had a leathern bag hidden somewhere toslip it into, like his famous namesake when he breakfasted with thegiant.
　　"I declare I don't see what he does with it! He really ought not to'gobble' so, mother," said Frank, who was eating with greatdeliberation and propriety.
　　"Never you mind, old quiddle. I'm so hungry I could tuck away abushel," answered Jack, emptying a glass of milk and holding outhis plate for more mush, regardless of his white moustache.
　　"Temperance in all things is wise, in speech as well as eating anddrinking--remember that, boys," said Mamma from behind the urn.
　　"That reminds me! We promised to do the 'Observer' this week,and here it is Tuesday and I haven't done a thing: have you?" askedFrank.
　　"Never thought of it. We must look up some bits at noon instead 0fplaying. Dare say Jill has got some: she always saves all she findsfor me.""I have one or two good items, and can do any copying there maybe. But I think if you undertake the paper you should give sometime and labor to make it good," said Mamma, who was used tothis state of affairs, and often edited the little sheet read everyweek at the Lodge. The boys seldom missed going, but the busylady was often unable to be there, so helped with the paper as hershare of the labor.
　　"Yes, we ought, but somehow we don't seem to get up much steamabout it lately. If more people belonged, and we could have agrand time now and then, it would be jolly"; and Jack sighedat the lack of interest felt by outsiders in the loyal little Lodgewhich went on year after year kept up by the faithful few.
　　"I remember when in this very town we used to have a Cold WaterArmy, and in the summer turn out with processions, banners, andbands of music to march about, and end with a picnic, songs, andspeeches in some grove or hall. Nearly all the children belonged toit, and the parents also, and we had fine times here twenty-five orthirty years ago.""It didn't do much good, seems to me, for people still drink, andwe haven't a decent hotel in the place," said Frank, as his mothersat looking out of the window as if she saw again the pleasant sightof old and young working together against the great enemy ofhome peace and safety.
　　"Oh yes, it did, my dear; for to this day many of those children aretrue to their pledge. One little girl was, I am sure, and now has twobig boys to fight for the reform she has upheld all her life. Thetown is better than it was in those days, and if we each do our partfaithfully, it will improve yet more. Every boy and girl who joins isone gained, perhaps, and your example is the best temperancelecture you can give. Hold fast, and don't mind if it isn't 'jolly': it isright, and that should be enough for us."Mamma spoke warmly, for she heartily believed in young people'sguarding against this dangerous vice before it became atemptation, and hoped her boys would never break the pledge theyhad taken; for, young as they were, they were old enough to see itsworth, feel its wisdom, and pride themselves on the promise whichwas fast growing into a principle. Jack's face brightened as helistened, and Frank said, with the steady look which made his facemanly,"It shall be. Now I'll tell you what I was going to keep as a surprisetill to-night, for I wanted to have my secret as well as other folks.
　　Ed and I went up to see Bob, Sunday, and he said he'd join theLodge, if they'd have him. I'm going to propose him to-night.""Good! good!" cried Jack, joyfully, and Mrs. Minot clapped herhands, for every new member was rejoiced over by the goodpeople, who were not discouraged by ridicule, indifference, oropposition.
　　"We've got him now, for no one will object, and it is just the thingfor him. He wants to belong somewhere, he says, and he'll enjoythe fun, and the good things will help him, and we will look afterhim, The Captain was so pleased, and you ought to have seen Ed'sface when Bob said, 'I'm ready, if you'll have me."Frank's own face was beaming, and Jack forgot to "gobble," he wasso interested in the new Convert, while Mamma said, as she threwdown her napkin and took up the newspaper,"We must not forget our 'Observer,' but have a good one tonight inhonor of the occasion. There may be something here. Come homeearly at noon, and I'll help you get your paper ready.""I'll be here, but if you want Frank, you'd better tell him not todawdle over Annette's gate half an hour," began Jack, who couldnot resist teasing his dignified brother about one of the few foolishthings he was fond of doing.
　　"Do you want your nose pulled?" demanded Frank, who neverwould stand joking on that tender point from his brother.
　　"No, I don't; and if I did, you couldn't do it"; with which taunt hewas off and Frank after him, having made a futile dive at theimpertinent little nose which was turned up at him and hissweetheart.
　　"Boys, boys, not through the parlor!" implored Mamma, resignedto skirmishes, but trembling for her piano legs as the four stoutboots pranced about the table and then went thundering down thehail, through the kitchen where the fat cook cheered them on, andMary, the maid, tried to head off Frank as Jack rushed out into thegarden. But the pursuer ducked under her arm and gave chase withall speed. Then there was a glorious race all over the place; forboth were good runners, and, being as full of spring vigor as friskycalves, they did astonishing things in the way of leaping fences,dodging round corners, and making good time down the widewalks.
　　But Jack's leg was not quite strong yet, and he felt that his roundnose was in danger of a vengeful tweak as his breath began to giveout and Frank's long arms drew nearer and nearer to the threatenedfeature. Just when he was about to give up and meet his fate like aman, old Bunny, who had been much excited by the race, camescampering across the path with such a droll skip into the air andshake of the hind legs that Frank had to dodge to avoid stepping onhim, and to laugh in spite of himself. This momentary check gaveJack a chance to bolt up the back stairs and take refuge in the BirdRoom, from the window of which Jill had been watching the racewith great interest.
　　No romping was allowed there, so a truce was made by lockinglittle fingers, and both sat down to get their breath.
　　"I am to go on the piazza, for an hour, by and by, Doctor said.
　　Would you mind carrying me down before you go to school, youdo it so nicely, I'm not a bit afraid," said Jill, as eager for the littlechange as if it had been a long and varied journey.
　　"Yes, indeed! Come on, Princess," answered Jack, glad to see herso well and happy.
　　The boys made an arm-chair, and away she went, for a pleasantday downstairs. She thanked Frank with a posy for his buttonhole,well knowing that it would soon pass into other hands, and hedeparted to join Annette. Having told Jill about Bob, and set her towork on the "Observer," Jack kissed his mother, and wentwhistling down the street, a gay little bachelor, with a nod andsmile for all he met, and no turned-up hat or jaunty turban bobbingalong beside him to delay his steps or trouble his peace of mind.
　　At noon they worked on their paper, which was a collection ofitems, cut from other papers, concerning temperance, a fewanecdotes, a bit of poetry, a story, and, if possible, an originalarticle by the editor. Many hands make light work, and nothingremained but a little copying, which Jill promised to do beforenight. So the boys had time for a game of football after school inthe afternoon, which they much enjoyed. As they sat resting on theposts, Gus said,"Uncle Fred says he will give us a hay-cart ride to-night, as it ismoony, and after it you are all to come to our house and havegames.
　　"Can't do it," answered Frank, sadly.
　　"Lodge," groaned Jack, for both considered a drive in the cart,where they all sat in a merry bunch among the hay, one of the joysof life, and much regretted that a prior engagement would preventtheir sharing in it.
　　That s a pity! I forgot it was Tuesday, and can'tput it off, as I'veasked all the rest. Give up your old Lodge and come along," saidGus, who had not joined yet.
　　"We might for once, perhaps, but I don't like to"--began Jack,hesitating.
　　"I won't. Who's to propose Bob if we don't? I want to go awfully;but I wouldn't disappoint Bob for a good deal, now he is willing tocome." And Frank sprang off his post as if anxious to fleetemptation, for it was very pleasant to go singing, up hill and downdale, in the spring moonlight, with--well, the fellows of his set.
　　"Nor Ed, I forgot that. No, we can't go. We want to be GoodTemplars, and we mustn't shirk," added Jack, following hisbrother.
　　"Better come. Can't put it off. Lots of fun," called Gus,disappointed at losing two of his favorite mates.
　　But the boys did not turn back, and as they went steadily away theyfelt that they were doing their little part in the good work, andmaking their small sacrifices, like faithful members.
　　They got their reward, however, for at home they found Mr.
　　Chauncey, a good and great man, from England, who had knowntheir grandfather, and was an honored friend of the family. Theboys loved to hear him talk, and all tea-time listened with interestto the conversation, for Mr. Chauncey was a reformer as well as afamous clergyman, and it was like inspiring music to hear him tellabout the world's work, and the brave men and women who werecarrying it on. Eager to show that they had, at least, begun, theboys told him about their Lodge, and were immensely pleasedwhen their guest took from his pocket-book a worn paper, provingthat he too was a Good Templar, and belonged to the same army asthey did. Nor was that all, for when they reluctantly excusedthemselves, Mr. Chauncey gave each a hearty "grip," and said,holding their hands in his, as he smiled at the young faces lookingup at him with so much love and honor in them,"Tell the brothers and Sisters that if I can serve them in anywaywhile here, to command me. I will give them a lecture at theirLodge or in public, whichever they like; and I wish you God-speed,dear boys."Two prouder lads never walked the streets than Frank and Jack asthey hurried away, nearly forgetting the poor little paper in theirhaste to tell the good news; for it was seldom that such an offerwas made the Lodge, and they felt the honor done them as bearersof it.
　　As the secrets of the association cannot be divulged to theuninitiated, we can only say that there was great rejoicing over thenew member, for Bob was unanimously welcomed, and muchgratitude both felt and expressed for Mr. Chauncey's interest in thissmall division of the grand army; for these good folk met withlittle sympathy from the great people of the town, and it was verycheering to have a well-known and much-beloved man say a wordfor them. All agreed that the lecture should be public, that othersmight share the pleasure with them, and perhaps be converted by ahigher eloquence than any they possessed.
　　So the services that night were unusually full of spirit and goodcheer; for all felt the influence of a friendly word, the beauty of afine example. The paper was much applauded, the songs were veryhearty, and when Frank, whose turn it was to be chaplain, read theclosing prayer, everyone felt that they had much to give thanks for,since one more had joined them, and the work was slowly gettingon with unexpected helpers sent to lend a hand. The lights shoneout from the little hall across the street, the music reached the earsof passers-by, and the busy hum of voices up there told howfaithfully some, at least, of the villagers tried to make the town asafer place for their boys to grow up in, though the tavern still hadits private bar and the saloon-door stood open to invite them in.
　　There are many such quiet lodges, and in them many young peoplelearning as these lads were learning something of the duty theyowed their neighbors as well as themselves, and being fitted tobecome good men and sober citizens by practising and preachingthe law and gospel of temperance.
　　The next night Mr. Chauncey lectured, and the town turned out tohear the distinguishei man, who not only told them of the crimeand misery produced by this terrible vice which afflicted bothEngland and America, but of the great crusade against it going oneverywhere, and the need of courage, patience, hard work, andmuch faith, that in time it might be overcome. Strong and cheerfulwords that all liked to hear and many heartily believed, especiallythe young Templars, whose boyish fancies were won by the idea offighting as knights of old did in the famous crusades they readabout in their splendid new young folks' edition of Froissart.
　　"We can't pitch into people as the Red Cross fellows did, but wecan smash rum-jugs when we get the chance, and stand by our flagas our men did in the war," said Frank, with sparkling eyes, as theywent home in the moonlight arm in arm, keeping step behind Mr.
　　Chauncey, who led the way with their mother on his arm, a martialfigure though a minister, and a good captain to follow, as the boysfelt after hearing his stirring words.
　　"Let's try and get up a company of boys like those mother told usabout, and show people that we mean what we say. I'll becolor-bearer, and you may drill us as much as you like. A real ColdWater Army, with flags flying, and drums, and all sorts of larks,"said Jack, much excited, and taking a dramatic view of the matter.
　　"We'll see about it. Something ought to be done, and perhaps weshall be the men to do it when the time comes," answered Frank,feeling ready to shoulder a musket or be a minute-man in goodearnest.
　　Boyish talk and enthusiasm, but it was of the right sort; and whentime and training had fitted them to bear arms, these young knightswould be worthy to put on the red cross and ride away to help rightthe wrongs and slay the dragons that afflict the world.
Chapter 20
A Sweet MemoryNow the lovely June days had come, everything began to lookreally summer-like; school would soon be over, and the youngpeople were joyfully preparing for the long vacation.
　　"We are all going up to Bethlehem. We take the seashore one yearand the mountains the next. Better come along," said Gus, as theboys lay on the grass after beating the Lincoins at one of the firstmatches of the season.
　　"Can't; we are off to Pebbly Beach the second week in July. Ourinvalids need sea air. That one looks delicate, doesn't he?" askedFrank, giving Jack a slight rap with his bat as that younggentleman lay in his usual attitude admiring the blue hose andrusset shoes which adorned his sturdy limbs.
　　"Stop that, Captain! You needn't talk about invalids, when youknow mother says you are not to look at a book for a monthbecause you have studied yourself thin and headachy. I'm allright"; and Jack gave himself a sounding slap on the chest, whereshone the white star of the H. B. B. C.
　　"Hear the little cockerel crow! you just wait till you get into thecollege class, and see if you don't have to study like fun," said Gus,with unruffled composure, for he was going to Harvard next year,and felt himself already a Senior.
　　"Never shall; I don't want any of your old colleges. I'm going intobusiness as soon as I can. Ed says I may be his book-keeper, if Iam ready when he starts for himself. That is much jollier thangrinding away for four years, and then having to grind ever somany more at a profession," said Jack, examining with interest thevarious knocks and bruises with which much ball-playing hadadorned his hands.
　　"Much you know about it. Just as well you don't mean to try, for itwould take a mighty long pull and strong pull to get you in.
　　Business would suit you better, and you and Ed would make acapital partnership. Devlin, Minot, & Co. sounds well, hey, Gus?""Very, but they are such good-natured chaps, they'd never get rich.
　　By the way, Ed came home at noon today sick. I met him, and helooked regularly knocked up," answered Gus, in a sober tone.
　　"I told him he'd better not go down Monday, for he wasn't wellSaturday, and couldn't come to sing Sunday evening, youremember. I must go right round and see what the matter is"; andJack jumped up, with an anxious face.
　　"Let him alone till to-morrow. He won't want anyone fussing overhim now. We are going for a pull; come along and steer," saidFrank, for the sunset promised to be fine, and the boys liked abrisk row in their newly painted boat, the "Rhodora.""Go ahead and get ready, I'll just cut round and ask at the door, Itwill seem kind, and I must know how Ed is. Won't be long"; andJack was off at his best pace.
　　The others were waiting impatiently when he came back withslower steps and a more anxious face.
　　"How is the old fellow?" called Frank from the boat, while Gusstood leaning on an oar in a nautical attitude.
　　"Pretty sick. Had the doctor. May have a fever. I didn't go in, butEd Sent his love, and wanted to know who beat," answered Jack,stepping to his place, glad to rest and coo1 himself.
　　"Guess he'll be all right in a day or two"; and Gus pushed off,leaving all care behind.
　　"Hope he won't have typhoid--that's no joke, I tell you," said Frank,who knew all about it, and did not care to repeat the experience.
　　"He's worked too hard. He's so faithful he does more than hisshare, and gets tired out. Mother asked him to come down and seeus when he has his vacation; we are going to have high old timesfishing and boating. Up or down?" asked Jack, as they glided outinto the river.
　　Gus looked both ways, and seeing another boat with a glimpse ofred in it just going round the bend, answered, with decision, "Up,of course. Don't we always pull to the bridge?""Not when the girls are going down," laughed Jack, who hadrecognized Juliet's scarlet boating-suit as he glanced over hisshoulder.
　　"Mind what you are about, and don't gabble," commanded CaptainFrank, as the crew bent to their oars and the slender boat cutthrough the water leaving a long furrow trembling behind.
　　"Oh, ah! I see! There is a blue jacket as well as a red one, so it's allright.
　　"Lady Queen Anne, she sits in the sun,As white as a lily, as brown as a bun,"sung Jack, recovering his spirits, and wishing Jill was there too.
　　"Do you want a ducking?" sternly demanded Gus, anxious topreserve discipline.
　　"Shouldn'tmind, its so warm."But Jack said no more, and soon the "Rhodora" was alongside the"Water Witch," exchanging greetings in the most amiable manner.
　　"Pity this boat won't hold four. We'd put Jack in yours, and takeyou girls a nice spin up to the Hemlocks," said Frank, whose ideaof bliss was floating down the river with Annette as coxswain.
　　"You'd better come in here, this will hold four, and we are tired ofrowing," returned the "Water Witch," so invitingly that Gus couldnot resist.
　　"I don't think it is safe to put four in there. You'd better changeplaces with Annette, Gus, and then we shall be ship-shape," saidFrank, answering a telegram from the eyes that matched the bluejacket.
　　"Wouldn't it be more ship-shape still if you put me ashore at Grif'slanding? I can take his boat, or wait till you come back. Don't carewhat I'd o," said Jack, feeling himself sadly in the way.
　　The good-natured offer being accepted with thanks, the changeswere made, and, leaving him behind, the two boats went gayly upthe river. He really did not care what he did, so sat in Grif's boatawhile watching the red sky, the shining stream, and the low greenmeadows, where the blackbirds were singing as if they too had mettheir little sweethearts and were happy.
　　Jack remembered that quiet half-hour long afterward, becausewhat followed seemed to impress it on his memory. As he satenjoying the scene, he very naturally thought about Ed; for the faceof the sister whom he saw was very anxious, and the word "fever"recalled the hard times when Frank was ill, particularly the night itwas thought the boy would not live till dawn, and Jack criedhimself to sleep, wondering how he ever could get on without hisbrother. Ed was almost as dear to him, and the thought that he wassuffering destroyed Jack's pleasure for a little while. But,fortunately, young people do not know how to be anxious verylong, so our boy soon cheered up, thinking about the late matchbetween the Stars and the Lincoins, and after a good rest wentwhistling home, with a handful of mint for Mrs. Pecq, and playedgames with Jill as merrily as if there was no such thing as care inthe world.
　　Next day Ed was worse, and for a week the answer was the same,when Jack crept to the back door with his eager question.
　　Others came also, for the dear boy lying upstairs had friendseverywhere, and older neighbors thought of him even moreanxiously and tenderly than his mates. It was not fever, but someswifter trouble, for when Saturday night came, Ed had gone hometo a longer and more peaceful Sabbath than any he had ever knownin this world.
　　Jack had been there in the afternoon, and a kind message hadcome down to him that his friend was not suffering so much, andhe had gone away, hoping, in his boyish ignorance, that all dangerwas over. An hour later he was reading in the parlor, having noheart for play, when Frank came in with a look upon his facewhich would have prepared Jack for the news if he had seen it. Buthe did not look up, and Frank found it so hard to speak, that helingered a moment at the piano, as he often did when he camehome. It stood open, and on the rack was the "Jolly Brothers'
　　Galop," which he had been learning to play with Ed. Big boy as hewas, the sudden thought that never again would they sit shoulder toshoulder, thundering the marches or singing the songs both likedso well, made his eyes fill as he laid away the music, and shut theinstrument, feeling as if he never wanted to touch it again. Then hewent and sat down beside Jack with an arm round his neck, tryingto steady his voice by a natural question before he told the heavynews.
　　"What are you reading, Jacky?"The unusual caress, the very gentle tone, made Jack look up, andthe minute he saw Frank's face he knew the truth.
　　"Is Ed----?" he could not say the hard word, and Frank could onlyanswer by a nod as he winked fast, for the tears would come. Jacksaid no more, but as the book dropped from his knee he hid hisface in the sofa-pillow and lay quite still, not crying, but trying tomake it seem true that his dear Ed had gone away for ever. Hecould not do it, and presently turned his head a little to say, in adespairing tone,"I don't see what I shall do without him!""I know it's hard for you. It is for all of us.""You've got Gus, but now I haven't anybody. Ed was always sogood to me!" and with the name so many tender recollectionscame, that poor Jack broke down in spite of his manful attempts tosmother the sobs in the red pillow.
　　There was an unconscious reproach in the words, Frank thought;for he was not as gentle as Ed, and he did not wonder that Jackloved and mourned for the lost friend like a brother.
　　"You've got me. I'll be good to you; cry if you want to, I don'tmind.
　　There was such a sympathetic choke in Frank's voice that Jack feltcomforted at once, and when he had had his cry out, which wasvery soon, he let Frank pull him up with a bear-like butaffectionate hug, and sat leaning on him as they talked about theirloss, both feeling that there might have been a greater one, andresolving to love one another very much hereafter.
　　Mrs. Minot often called Frank the "father-boy," because he wasnow the head of the house, and a sober, reliable fellow for hisyears. Usually he did not show much affection except to her, for,as he once said, "I shall never be too old to kiss my mother," andshe often wished that he had a little sister, to bring out the softerside of his character. He domineered over Jack and laughed at hisaffectionate little ways, but now when trouble came, he was askind and patient as a girl; and when Mamma came in, havingheard the news, she found her "father-boy" comforting his brotherso well that she slipped away without a word, leaving them tolearn one of the sweet lessons sorrow teaches--to lean on oneanother, and let each trial bring them closer together.
　　It is often said that there should be no death or grief in children'sstories. It is not wise to dwell on the dark and sad side of thesethings; but they have also a bright and lovely side, and since eventhe youngest, dearest, and most guarded child cannot escape someknowledge of the great mystery, is it not well to teach them insimple, cheerful ways that affection sweetens sorrow, and a lovelylife can make death beautiful? I think so, therefore try to tell thelast scene in the history of a boy who really lived and really leftbehind him a memory so precious that it will not be soon forgottenby those who knew and loved him. For the influence of this shortlife was felt by many, and even this brief record of it may do forother children what the reality did for those who still lay flowerson his grave, and try to be "as good as Eddy.
　　Few would have thought that the death of a quiet lad of seventeenwould have been so widely felt, so sincerely mourned; but virtue,like sunshine, works its own sweet miracles, and when it wasknown that never again would the bright face be seen in the villagestreets, the cheery voice heard, the loving heart felt in any of thelittle acts which so endeared Ed Devlin to those about him, itseemed as if young and old grieved alike for so much promise cutoff in its spring-time. This was proved at the funeral, for, though ittook place at the busy hour of a busy day, men left their affairs,women their households, young people their studies and their play,and gave an hour to show their affection, respect, and sympathy forthose who had lost so much.
　　The girls had trimmed the church with all the sweetest flowersthey could find, and garlands of lilies of the valley robbed thecasket of its mournful look. The boys had brought fresh boughs tomake the grave a green bed for their comrade's last sleep. Nowthey were all gathered together, and it was a touching sight to seethe rows of young faces sobered and saddened by their first look atsorrow. The girls sobbed, and the boys set their lips tightly as theirglances fell upon the lilies under which the familiar face lay full ofsolemn peace. Tears dimmed older eyes when the hymn the deadboy loved was sung, and the pastor told with how much pride andpleasure he had watched the gracious growth of this youngparishioner since he first met the lad of twelve and was attractedby the shining face, the pleasant manners. Dutiful and loving;ready to help; patient to bear and forbear; eager to excel; faithfulto the smallest task, yet full of high ambitions; and, better still,possessing the childlike piety that can trust and believe, wait andhope. Good and happy--the two things we all long for and so fewof us truly are. This he was, and this single fact was the besteulogy his pastor could pronounce over the beloved youth gone toa nobler manhood whose promise left so sweet a memory behind.
　　As the young people looked, listened, and took in the scene, theyfelt as if some mysterious power had changed their playmate froma creature like themselves into a sort of saint or hero for them tolook up to, and imitate if they could. 'What has he done, to be soloved, praised, and mourned?" they thought, with a tender sort ofwonder; and the answer seemed to come to them as never before,for never had they been brought so near the solemn truth of lifeand death. "It was not what he did but what he was that made himso beloved. All that was sweet and noble in him still lives; forgoodness is the only thing we can take with us when we die, theonly thing that can comfort those we leave behind, and help us tomeet again hereafter."This feeling was in many hearts when they went away to lay him,with prayer and music, under the budding oak that leaned over hisgrave, a fit emblem of the young life just beginning its new spring.
　　As the children did their part, the beauty of the summer daysoothed their sorrow, and something of the soft brightness of theJune sunshine seemed to gild their thoughts, as it gilded theflower-strewn mound they left behind. The true and touchingwords spoken cheered as well as impressed them, and made themfeel that their friend was not lost but gone on into a higher class ofthe great school whose Master is eternal love and wisdom. So thetears soon dried, and the young faces looked up like flowers afterrain. But the heaven-sent shower sank into the earth, and they werethe stronger, Sweeter for it, more eager to make life brave andbeautiful, because death had gently shown them what it should be.
　　When the boys came home they found their mother alreadyreturned, and Jill upon the parlor sofa listening to her account ofthe funeral with the same quiet, hopeful look which their ownfaces wore; for somehow the sadness seemed to have gone, and asort of Sunday peace remained.
　　"I'm glad it was all so sweet and pleasant. Come and rest, you lookso tired"; and Jill held out her hands to greet them--a crumpledhandkerchief in one and a little bunch of fading lilies in the other.
　　Jack sat down in the low chair beside her and leaned his headagainst the arm of the sofa, for he was tired. But Frank walkedslowly up and down the long rooms with a serious yet serene lookon his face, for he felt as if he had learned something that day, andwould always be the better for it. Presently he said, stoppingbefore his mother, who leaned in the easy-chair looking up at thepicture of her boys' father,"I should should like to have just such things said about me whenI die.""So should I, if I deserved them as Ed did!" cried Jack, earnestly.
　　"You may if you try. I should be proud to hear them, and if theywere true, they would comfort me more than anything else. I amglad you see the lovely side of sorrow, and are learning the lessonsuch losses teach us," answered their mother, who believed inteaching young people to face trouble bravely, and find the silverlining in the clouds that come to all of us.
　　"I never thought much about it before, but now dying doesn't seemdreadful at all--only solemn and beautiful. Somehow everybodyseems to love everybody else more for it, and try to be kind andgood and pious. I can't say what I mean, but you know, mother";and Frank went pacing on again with the bright look his eyesalways wore when he listened to music or read of some nobleaction.
　　"That's what Merry said when she and Molly came in on their wayhome. But Molly felt dreadfully, and so did Mabel. She broughtme these flowers to press, for we are all going to keep some toremember dear Ed by," said Jill, carefully smoothing out the littlebells as she laid the lilies in her hymn-book, for she too had had athoughtful hour while she lay alone, imagining all that went on inthe church, and shedding a few tender tears over the friend whowas always so kind to her.
　　"I don't want anything to remember him by. I was so fond of him, Icouldn't forget if I tried. I know I ought not to say it, but I don't seewhy God let him die," said Jack, with a quiver in his voice, for hisloving heart could not help aching still.
　　"No, dear, we cannot see or know many things that grieve us verymuch, but we can trust that it is right, and try to believe that all ismeant for our good. That is what faith means, and without it weare miserable. When you were little, you were afraid of the dark,but if I spoke or touched you, then you were sure all was well, andfell asleep holding my hand. God is wiser and stronger than anyfather or mother, so hold fast to Him, and you will have no doubtor fear, however dark it seems.""As you do," said Jack, going to sit on the arm of Mamma's chair,with his cheek to hers, willing to trust as she bade him, hut glad tohold fast the living hand that had led and comforted him all hislife.
　　"Ed used to say to me when I fretted about getting well, andthought nobody cared for me, which was very naughty, 'Don't betroubled, God won't forget you; and if you must be lame, He willmake you able to bear it," said Jill, softly, her quick little mind allalive with new thoughts and feelings.
　　"He believed it, and that's why he liked that hymn so much. I'mglad they sung it to-day," said Frank, bringing his heavy dictionaryto lay on the book where the flowers were pressing.
　　"Oh, thank you! Could you play that tune for me? I'd idn't hear it,and I'd love to, if you are willing," asked Jill.
　　"I'd idn't think I ever should want to play again, but I'd o. Will yousing it for her, mother? I'm afraid I shall break down if I try alone.
　　"We will all sing, music is good for us now," said Mamma; and inrather broken voices they did sing Ed's favorite words:
　　"Not a sparrow falleth but its God cloth know,Just as when his mandate lays a monarch low;Not a leaflet moveth, but its God cloth see,Think not, then, O mortal, God forgetteth thee.
　　Far more precious surely than the birds that flyIs a Father's image to a Father's eye.
　　E'en thy hairs are numbered; trust Him full and free,Cast thy cares before Him, He will comfort thee;For the God that planted in thy breast a soul,On his sacred tables dcth thy name enroll.
　　Cheer thine heart, then, niortal, never faithless be,He that marks the sparrows will remember thee."
Chapter 21
Pebbly Beach"Now, Mr. Jack, it is a moral impossibility to get all those thingsinto one trunk, and you mustn't ask it of me," said Mrs. Pecq, in atone of despair, as she surveyed the heap of treasures she wasexpected to pack for the boys.
　　"Never mind the clothes, we only want a boating-suit apiece.
　　Mamma can put a few collars in her trunk for us; but thesenecessary things must go," answered Jack, adding his target andair-pistol to the pile of bats, fishing-tackle, games, and a choicecollection of shabby balls.
　　"Those are the necessaries and clothes the luxuries, are they? Whydon't you add a velocipede, wheelbarrow, and printing-press, mydear?" asked Mrs. Pecq, while Jill turned up her nose at "boys'
　　rubbish.""Wish I could. Dare say we shall want them. Women don't knowwhat fellows need, and always must put in a lot of stiff shirts andclean handkerchiefs and clothes-brushes and pots of cold cream.
　　We are going to rough it, and don't want any fuss and feathers,"said Jack, beginning to pack the precious balls in his rubber boots,and strap them up with the umbrellas, rods, and bats, seeing thatthere was no hope of a place in the trunk.
　　Here Frank came in with two big books, saying calmly, "Just slipthese in somewhere, we shall need them.""But you are not to study at all, so you won't want those greatdictionaries," cried Jill, busily packing her new travelling-basketwith all sorts of little rolls, bags, and boxes.
　　"They are not dics, but my Encyclopedia. We shall want to knowheaps of things, and this tells about everything. With those books,and a microscope and a telescope, you could travel round theworld, and learn all you wanted to. Can't possibly get on withoutthem," said Frank, fondly patting his favorite work.
　　"My patience! What queer cattle boys are!" exclaimed Mrs. Pecq,while they all laughed. "It can't be done, Mr. Frank; all the boxesare brim full, and you'll have to leave those fat books behind, forthere's no place anywhere.""Then I'll carry them myself"; and Frank tucked one under eacharm, with a determined air, which settled the matter.
　　"I suppose you'll study cockleology instead of boating, and read upon polywogs while we play tennis, or go poking round with yourold spy-glass instead of having a jolly good time," said Jack,hauling away on the strap till all was taut and ship-shape with thebundle.
　　"Tadpoles don't live in salt water, my son, and if you meanconchology, you'd better say so. I shall play as much as I wish, andwhen I want to know about any new or curious thing, I shallconsult my Cyclo, instead of bothering other people withquestions, or giving it up like a dunce"; with which crushing replyFrank departed, leaving Jill to pack and unpack her treasures adozen times, and Jack to dance jigs on the lids of the trunks tillthey would shut.
　　A very happy party set off the next day, leaving Mrs. Pecq wavingher apron on the steps. Mrs. Minot carried the lunch, Jack hisprecious bundle with trifles dropping out by the way, and Jill feltvery elegant bearing her new basket with red worsted cherriesbobbing on the outside. Frank actually did take the Encyclopedia,done up in the roll of shawls, and whenever the others wonderedabout anything--tides, lighthouses, towns, or natural productions--he brought forth one of the books and triumphantly read therefrom,to the great merriment, if not edification, of his party.
　　A very short trip by rail and the rest of the journey by boat, to Jill'sgreat contentment, for she hated to be shut up; and while the ladsroved here and there she sat under the awning, too happy to talk.
　　But Mrs. Minot watched with real satisfaction how the fresh windblew the color back into the pale cheeks, how the eyes shone andthe heart filled with delight at seeing the lovely world again, andbeing able to take a share in its active pleasures.
　　The Willows was a long, low house close to the beach, and as fullas a beehive of pleasant people, all intent on having a good time. Agreat many children were swarming about, and Jill found itimpossible to sleep after her journey, there was such a livelyclatter of tongues on the piazzas, and so many feet going to and froin the halls, She lay down obediently while Mrs. Minot settledmatters in the two airy rooms and gave her some dinner, but shekept popping up her head to look out of the window to see whatshe could see. Just opposite stood an artist's cottage and studio,with all manner of charming galleries, towers, steps, and even asort of drawbridge to pull up when the painter wished to be left inpeace. He was absent now, and the visitors took possession of thisfine play-place. Children were racing up and down the galleries,ladies sitting in the tower, boys disporting themselves on the roof,and young gentlemen preparing for theatricals in the large studio.
　　"What fun I'll have over there," thought Jill, watching the merryscene with intense interest, and wondering if the little girls she sawwere as nice as Molly and Merry.
　　Then there were glimpses of the sea beyond the green bank wherea path wound along to the beach, whence came the cool dash ofwaves, and now and then the glimmer of a passing sail.
　　"Oh, when can I go out? It looks so lovely, I can't wait long," shesaid, looking as eager as a little gull shut up in a cage and piningfor its home on the wide ocean.
　　"As soon as it is a little cooler, dear, I'm getting ready for our trip,but we must be careful and not do too much at once. 'Slow andsure' is our motto," answered Mrs. Minot, busily collecting thecamp-stools, the shawls, the air-cushions, and the big parasols.
　　"I'll be good, only do let me have my sailor-hat to wear, and mynew suit. I'm not a bit tired, and I do want to be like other folksright off," said Jill, who had been improving rapidly of late, andfelt much elated at being able to drive out nearly every day, towalk a little, and sit up some hours without any pain or fatigue.
　　To gratify her, the blue flannel suit with its white trimming wasput on, and Mamma was just buttoning the stout boots when Jackthundered at the door, and burst in with all sorts of glorious news.
　　"Do come out, mother, it's perfectly splendid on the beach! I'vefound a nice place for Jill to sit, and it's only a step. Lots of capitalfellows here; one has a bicycle, and is going to teach us to ride. Noend of fun up at the hotel, and everyone seems glad to see us. Twoladies asked about Jill, and one of the girls has got some shells allready for her, Gerty Somebody, and her mother is so pretty andjolly, I like her ever so much. They sit at our table, and Wally isthe boy, younger than I am, but very pleasant. Bacon is the fellowin knickerbockers; just wish you could see what stout legs he's got!
　　Cox is the chap for me, though: we are going fishing to-morrow.
　　He's got a sweet-looking mother, and a sister for you, Jill. Now,then, do come on, I'll take the traps."Off they went, and Jill thought that very short walk to the shore themost delightful she ever took; for people smiled at the little invalidas she went slowly by leaning on Mrs. Minot's arm, while Jackpranced in front, doing the honors, as if he owned the wholeAtlantic. A new world opened to her eyes as they came out uponthe pebbly beach full of people enjoying their afternoonpromenade. Jill save one rapturous Oh. and then sat on her stool,forgetting everything but the beautiful blue ocean rolling away tomeet the sky, with nothing to break the wide expanse but a sailhere and there, a point of rocks on one hand, the little pier on theother, and white gulls skimming by on their wide wings.
　　While she sat enjoying herself, Jack showed his mother the placehe had found, and a very nice one it was. Just under the green banklay an old boat propped up with some big stones. A willowdrooped over it, the tide rippled up within a few yards of it, and afine view of the waves could be seen as they'd ashed over therocks at the point.
　　"Isn't it a good cubby-house? Ben Cox and I fixed it for Jill, andshe can have it for hers. Put her cushions and things there on thesand the children have thrown in--that will make it soft; then theseseats will do for tables; and up in the bow I'm going to have thatold rusty tin boiler full of salt-water, so she can put seaweed andcrabs and all sorts 0c chaps in h for an aquatium, you know,"explained Jack, greatly interested in establishing his familycomfortably before he left them.
　　"There couldn't be a nicer place, and it is very kind of you to get itready. Spread the shawls and settle Jill, then you needn't think ofus any more, but go and scramble with Frank. I see him over therewith his spy-glass and some pleasant-looking boys," said Mamma,bustling about in great spirits.
　　So the red cushions were placed, the plaids laid, and the littlework-basket set upon the seat, all ready for Jill, who was charmedwith her nest, and cuddled down under the big parasol, declaringshe would keep house there every day.
　　Even the old boiler pleased her, and Jack raced over the beach tobegin his search for inhabitants for the new aquarium, leaving Jillto make friends with some pretty babies digging in the sand, whileMamma sat on the camp-stool and talked with a friend fromHarmony Village.
　　It seemed as if there could not be anything more delightful than tolie there lulled by the sound of the sea, watching the sunset andlistening to the pleasant babble of little voices close by. But whenthcy went to tea in the great hall, with six tables full of merrypeople, and half a dozen maids flying about, Jill thought that waseven better, because it was so new to her. Gerty and Wally noddedto her, and their pretty mamma was so kind and so gay, rhat Jillcould not feel bashful after the first few minutes, and soon lookedabout her, sure of seeing friendly faces everywhere. Frank and Jackate as if the salt air bad already improved their appetites, aridtalked about Bacon and Cox as if they had been bosom friends foryears. Mamma was as happy as they for her friend, Mrs.
　　Hammond, sat close by; and this rosy lady, who had been aphysician, cheered her up by predicting that Jill would soon berunning about as well as ever.
　　But the best of all was in the evening, when the elder peoplegathered in the parlors and played Twenty Questions, while thechildren looked on for an hour before going to bed, much amusedat the sight of grown people laughing, squabbling, dodging, andjoking as if they had all become young again; for, as everyoneknows, it is impossible to help lively skirmishes when that game isplayed. Jill lay in the sofa corner enjoying it all immensely; for shenever saw anything so droll, and found it capital fun to help guessthe thing, or try to puzzle the opposite side. Her quick wits andbright face attracted people, and in the pauses of the sport she heldquite a levee, for everybody was interested in the little invalid. Thegirls shyly made friends in their own way, the mammas toldthrilling tales of the accidents their darlings had survived, severalgentlemen kindly offered their boats, and the boys, with the bestintentions in life, suggested strolls of two or three miles to Rafe'sChasm and Norman's Woe, or invited her to tennis and archery, asif violent exercise was the cure for all human ills. She was verygrateful, and reluctantly went away to bed, declaring, when she gotupstairs, that these new friends were the dearest people she evermet, and the Willows the most delightful place in the whole world.
　　Next day a new life began for the young folks--a very healthy,happy life; and all threw themselves into it so heartily, that it wasimpossible to help getting great good from it, for these summerweeks, if well spent, work miracles in tired bodies and souls.
　　Frank took a fancy to the bicycle boy, and, being able to hire oneof the breakneck articles, soon learned to ride it; and the two mightbe seen wildly working their long legs on certain smooth stretchesof road, or getting up their muscle rowing about the bay till theywere almost as brown and nautical in appearance and language asthe fishermen who lived in nooks and corners along the shore.
　　Jack struck up a great friendship with the sturdy Bacon and theagreeable Cox: the latter, being about his own age, was hisespecial favorite; and they soon were called Box and Cox by theother fellows, which did not annoy them a bit, as both had playedparts in that immortal farce. They had capital times fishing,scrambling over the rocks, playing ball and tennis, and rainy daysthey took possession of the studio opposite, drew up the portcullis,and gallantly defended the castle, which some of the othersbesieged with old umbrellas for shields, bats for battering-rams,and bunches of burrs for cannon-balls. Great larks went on overthere, while the girls applauded from the piazza orchamber-windows, and made a gay flag for the victors to displayfrom the tower when the fight was over.
　　But Jill had the best time of all, for each day brought increasingstrength and spirits, and she improved so fast it was hard to believethat she was the same girl who lay so long almost helpless in theBird Room at home. Such lively letters as she sent her W1o~he~,all aboul her new friends, her fine sails, drives, and little walks;the good times she had in the evening, the lovely things peoplegave her, and she was learning to make with shells and sea-weed,and what splendid fun it was to keep house in a boat.
　　This last amusement soon grew quite absorbing, and her "cubby,"as she called it, rapidly became a pretty grotto, where she livedlike a little mermaid, daily loving more and more the beauty of thewonderful sea, Finding the boat too sunny at times, the boys cutlong willow boughs and arched them over the seats, layinghemlock branches across till a green roof made it cool and shadyinside. There Jill sat or lay among her cushions reading, trying tosketch, sorting shells, drying gay sea-weeds, or watching her crabs,jelly-fish, and anemones in the old boiler, now buried in sand andedged about with moss from the woods.
　　Nobody disturbed her treasures, but kindly added to them, andoften when she went to her nest she found fruit or flowers, booksor bon-bons, laid ready for her. Everyone pitied and liked thebright little girl who could not run and frisk with the rest, who wasso patient and cheerful after her long confinement, ready to helpothers, and so grateful for any small favor. She found now that theweary months had not been wasted, and was very happy todiscover in herself a new sort of strength and sweetness that wasnot only a comfort to her, but made those about her love and trusther. The songs she had learned attracted the babies, who wouldleave their play to peep at her and listen when she sung over herwork. Passers-by paused to hear the blithe voice of the bird in thegreen cage, and other invalids, strolling on the beach, would takeheart when they saw the child so happy in spite of her great trial.
　　The boys kept all their marine curiosities for her, and were alwaysready to take her a row or a sail, as the bay was safe and that sortof travelling suited her better than driving. But the girls had capitaltimes together, and it did Jill good to see another sort from thoseshe knew at home. She had been so much petted of late, that shewas getting rather vain of her small accomplishments, and beingwith strangers richer, better bred and educated than herself, madeher more humble in some things, while it showed her the worth ofsuch virtues as she could honestly claim. Mamie Cox took her todrive in the fine carriage of her mamma, and Jill was muchimpressed by the fact that Mamie was not a bit proud about it, anddid not put on any airs, though she had a maid to take care of her.
　　Gerty wore pretty costumes, and came down with pink and blueribbons in her hair that Jill envied very much; yet Gerty liked hercurls, and longed to have some, while her mother, "the lady fromPhiladelphia," as they called her, was so kind and gay that Jillquite adored her, and always felt as if sunshine had come into theroom when she entered. Two little sisters were very interesting toher, and made her long for one of her own when she saw themgoing about together and heard them talk of their pleasant home,where the great silk factories were. But they invited her to comeand see the wonderful cocoons, and taught her to knot pretty grayfringe on a cushion, which delighted her, being so new and easy.
　　There were several other nice little lasses, and they all gatheredabout Jill with the sweet sympathy children are so quick to showtoward those in pain or misfortune. She thought they would notcare for a poor little girl like herself, yet here she was the queen ofthe troupe, and this discovery touched and pleased her very much.
　　In the morning they camped round the boat on the stones withbooks, gay work, and merry chatter, till bathing-time. Then thebeach was full of life and fun, for everyone looked so droll in theflannel suits, it was hard to believe that the neat ladies andrespectable gentlemen who went into the little houses could be thesame persons as the queer, short-skirted women with old hats tieddown, and bareheaded, barefooted men in old suits, who cameskipping over the sand to disport themselves in the sea in the mostundignified ways. The boys raced about, looking like circus-tumblers, and the babies were regular little cupids, running awayfrom the waves that tried to kiss their flying feet.
　　Some of the young ladies and girls were famous swimmers, andlooked very pretty in their bright red and blue costumes, with loosehair and gay stockings, as they'd anced into the water and floatedaway as fearlessly as real mermaidens. Jill had her quiet dip andgood rubbing each fine day, and then lay upon the warm sandwatching the pranks of the others, and longing to run and dive andshout and tumble with the rest. Now that she was among the welland active, it seemed harder to be patient than when shut up andunable to stir. She felt so much better, and had so little pain toremind her of past troubles, it was almost impossible to helpforgetting the poor back and letting her recovered spirits run awaywith her. If Mrs. Minot had not kept good watch, she would havebeen off more than once, so eager was she to be "like other girls"again, so difficult was it to keep the restless feet quietly foldedamong the red cushions.
　　One day she did yield to temptation, and took a little voyage whichmight have been her last, owing to the carelessness of those whomshe trusted. It was a good lesson, and made her as meek as a lambduring the rest of her stay. Mrs. Minot drove to Gloucester oneafternoon, leaving Jill safely established after her nap in the boat,with Gerty and Mamie making lace beside her.
　　"Don't try to walk or run about, my dear. Sit on the piazza if youget tired of this, and amuse yourself quietly till I come back. I'llnot forget the worsted and the canvas," said Mamma, peeping overthe bank for a last word as she waited for the omnibus to comealong.
　　"Oh, don't forget the Gibraltars!" cried Jill, popping her head out ofthe green roof.
　　"Nor the bananas, please!" added Gerty, looking round one end.
　　"Nor the pink and blue ribbon to tie our shell-baskets," calledMamie, nearly tumbling into the aquarium at the other end.
　　Mrs. Minot laughed, and promised, and rumbled away, leaving Jillto an experience which she never forgot.
　　For half an hour the little girls worked busily, then the boys camefor Gerty and Mamie to go to the Chasm with a party of friendswho were to leave next day. Off they went, and Jill felt very lonelyas the gay voices died away. Everyone had gone somewhere, andonly little Harry Hammond and his maid were on the beach. Twoor three sand-pipers ran about among the pebbles, and Jill enviedthem their nimble legs so much, that she could not resist getting upto take a few steps. She longed to run straight away over the firm,smooth sand, and feel again the delight of swift motion; but shedared not try it, and stood leaning on her tall parasol with herbook in her hand, when Frank, Jack, and the bicycle boy camerowing lazily along and hailed her.
　　"Come for a sail, Jill? Take you anywhere you like," called Jack,touched by the lonely figure on the beach.
　　"I'd love to go, if you will row. Mamma made me promise not togo sailing without a man to take care of me. Would it spoil yourfun to have me?" answered Jill, eagerly.
　　"Not a bit; come out on the big stones and we'll take you aboard,"said Frank, as they steered to the place where she could embark theeasiest.
　　"All the rest are gone to the Chasm. I wanted to go, because I'venever seen it; but, of course, I had to give it up, as I do most of thefun"; and Jill sat down with an impatient sigh.
　　"We'll row you round there. Can't land, but you can see the placeand shout to the others, if that will be any comfort to you,"proposed Frank, as they pulled away round the pier.
　　"Oh, yes, that would be lovely!" and Jill smiled at Jack, who wassteering, for she found it impossible to be dismal now with thefresh wind blowing in her face, the blue waves slapping against theboat, and three good-natured lads ready to gratify her wishes.
　　Away they went, laughing and talking gayly till they came toGoodwin's Rocks, where an unusual number of people were to beseen though the tide was going out, and no white spray wasdashing high into the air to make a sight worth seeing.
　　'What do you suppose they are about? Never saw such a lot offolks at this time. Shouldn't wonder if something had happened. Isay, put me ashore, and I'll cut up and see," said the bicycle boy,who was of an inquiring turn.
　　"I'll go with you," said Frank; "it won't take but a minute, and I'dlike to discover what it is. Maybe something we ought to knowabout."So the boys pulled round into a quiet nook, and the two elder onesscrambled up the rocks, to disappear in the crowd. Five, ten,fifteen minutes passed, and they did not return. Jack grewimpatient, so did Jill, and bade him run up and bring them back.
　　Glad to know what kept them, Jack departed, to be swallowed upin his turn, for not a sign of a boy did she see after that; and,having vainly strained her eyes to discover the attraction whichheld them, she gave it up, lay down on their jackets, and began toread.
　　Then the treacherous tide, as it ebbed lower and lower down thebeach, began to lure the boat away; for it was not fastened, andwhen lightened of its load was an easy prize to the hungry sea,always ready to steal all it can. Jill knew nothing of this, for herstory was dull, the gentle motion proved soothing, and before sheknew it she was asleep. Little by little the runaway boat slid fartherfrom the shore, and presently was floating out to sea with itsdrowsy freight, while the careless boys, unconscious of the timethey were wasting, lingered to see group after group photographedby the enterprising man who had trundled his camera to the rocks.
　　In the midst of a dream about home, Jill was roused by a loudshout, and, starting up so suddenly that the sun-umbrella wentoverboard, she found herself sailing off alone, while the distractedlads roared and beckoned vainly from the cove. The oars lay attheir feet, where they left them; and the poor child was quitehelpless, for she could not manage the sail, and even the parasol,with which she might have paddled a little, had gone down with allsail set. For a minute, Jill was so frightened that she could onlylook about her with a scared face, and wonder if drowning was avery disagreeable thing. Then the sight of the bicycle boystruggling with Jack, who seemed inclined to swim after her, andFrank shouting wildly, "Hold on! Come back!" made her laugh inspite of her fear, it was so comical, and their distress so muchgreater than hers, since it was their own carelessness which causedthe trouble.
　　"I can't come back! There's nothing to hold on to! You didn't fastenme, and now I don't know where I'm going!" cried Jill, lookingfrom the shore to the treacherous sea that was gently carrying heraway.
　　"Keep cool! We'll get a boat and come after you,~ roared Frank,before he followed Jack, who had collected his wits and wastearing up the rocks like a chamois hunter.
　　The bicycle boy calmly sat down to keep his eye on the runaway,calling out from time to time such cheering remarks as "All aboardfor Liverpool! Give my love to Victoria! Luff and bear away whenyou come to Halifax! If you are hard up for provisions, you'll findan apple and some bait in my coat-pocket," and other directions fora comfortable voyage, till his voice was lost in the distance as astronger current bore her swiftly away and the big waves began totumble and splash.
　　At first Jill had laughed at his efforts to keep up her spirits, butwhen the boat floated round a point of rock that shut in the cove,she felt all alone, and sat quite still, wondering what wouldbecome of her. She turned her back to the sea and looked at thedear, safe land, which never had seemed so green and beautifulbefore. Up on the hill rustled the wood through which the happyparty were wandering to the Chasm. On the rocks she still saw thecrowd all busy with their own affairs, unconscious of her danger.
　　Here and there artists were sketching in picturesque spots, and inone place an old gentleman sat fishing peacefully. Jill called andwaved her handkerchief, but he never looked up, and an ugly littledog barked at her in what seemed to her a most cruel way.
　　"Nobody sees or hears or cares, and those horrid boys will nevercatch up!" she cried in despair, as the boat began to rock more andmore, and the loud swash of water dashing in and out of theChasm drew nearer and nearer. Holding on now with both handsshe turned and looked straight before her, pale and shivering,while her eyes tried to see some sign of hope among the steepcliffs that rose up on the left. No one was there, though usually atthis hour they were full of visitors, and it was time for the walkersto have arrived.
　　"I wonder if Gerty and Mamie will be sorry if I'm drowned,"thought Jill, remembering the poor girl who had been lost in theChasm not long ago. Her lively fancy pictured the grief of herfriends at her loss; but that did not help or comfort her now, and asher anxious gaze wandered along the shore, she said aloud, in apensive tone,"Perhaps I shall be wrecked on Norman's Woe, and somebody willmake poetry about me. It would be pretty to read, but I don't wantto die that way. Oh, why did I come! Why didn't I stay safe andcomfortable in my own boat?"At the thought a sob rose, and poor Jill laid her head down on herlap to cry with all her heart, feeling very helpless, small, andforsaken alone there on the great sea. In the midst of her tearscame the thought, "When people are in danger, they ask God tosave them"; and, slipping down upon her knees, she said her prayeras she had never said it before, for when human help seems gonewe turn to Him as naturally as lost children cry to their father, andfeel sure that he will hear and answer them.
　　After that she felt better, and wiped away the drops that blindedher, to look out again like a shipwrecked mariner watching for asail. And there it was! Close by, coming swiftly on with a manbehind it, a sturdy brown fisher, busy with his lobster-pots, andquite unconscious how like an angel he looked to the helpless littlegirl in the rudderless boat.
　　"Hi! hi! Oh, please do stop and get me! I'm lost, no oars, nobody tofix the sail! Oh, oh! please come!" screamed Jill, waving her hatfrantically as the other boat skimmed by and the man stared at heras if she really was a mermaid with a fishy tail.
　　"Keep still! I'll come about and fetch you!" he called out; and Jillobeyed, sitting like a little image of faith, till with a good deal ofshifting and flapping of the sail, the other boat came alongside andtook her in tow,A few words told the story, and in five minutes she was sittingsnugly tucked up watching art unpleasant mass of lobsters flapabout dangerously near her toes, while the boat bounded over thewaves with a delightful motion, and every instant brought hernearer borne. She did not say much, but felt a good deal; and whenthey met two boats coming to meet her, manned by very anxiouscrews of men and boys, she was so pale and quiet that Jack wasquite bowed down with remorse, and Frank nearly pitched thebicycle boy overboard because he gayly asked Jill how she left herfriends in England. There was great rejoicing over her, for thepeople on the rocks had heard of her loss, and ran about like antswhen their hill is disturbed. Of course half a dozen amiable soulsposted off to the Willows to tell the family that the little girl wasdrowned, so that when the rescuers appeared quite a crowd wasassembled on the beach to welcome her. But Jill felt so used upwith her own share of the excitement that she was glad to becarried to the house by Frank and Jack, and laid upon her bed,where Mrs. Hammond soon restored her with sugar-coated pills,and words even sweeter and more soothing.
　　Other people, busied with their own pleasures, forgot all about itby the next day; but Jill remembered that hour long afterward, bothawake and asleep, for her dreams were troubled, and she oftenstarted up imploring someone to save her. Then she would recallthe moment when, feeling most helpless, she had asked for help,and it had come as quickly as if that tearful little cry had beenheard and answered, though her voice had been drowned by thedash of the waves that seemed ready to devour her. This madea deep impression on her, and a sense of childlike faith in theFather of all began to grow up within her; for in that lonelyvoyage, short as it was, she had found a very precious treasure tokeep for ever, to lean on, and to love during the longer voyagewhich all must take before we reach our home.
Chapter 22
A Happy Day"Oh dear! Only a week more, and then we must go back. Don't youhate the thoughts of it?" said Jack, as he was giving Jill her earlywalk on the beach one August morning.
　　"Yes, it will be dreadful to leave Gerty and Mamie and all the nicepeople. But I'm so much better I won't have to be shut up again,even if I don't go to school. How I long to see Merry and Molly.
　　Dear things, if it wasn't for them I should hate going home morethan you do," answered Jill, stepping along quite briskly, andfinding it very hard to resist breaking into a skip or a run, she feltso well and gay.
　　"Wish they could be here to-day to see the fun," said Jack, for itwas the anniversary of the founding of the place, and the peoplecelebrated it by all sorts of festivity.
　　"I'd id want to ask Molly, but your mother is so good to me Icouldn't find courage to do it. Mammy told me not to ask for athing, and I'm sure I don't get a chance. I feel just as if I was yourtruly born sister, Jack.""That's all right, I'm glad you do," answered Jack, comfortably,though his mind seemed a little absent and his eyes twinkled whenshe spoke of Molly. "Now, you sit in the cubby-house, and keepquiet till the boat comes in. Then the fun will begin, and you mustbe fresh and ready to enjoy it. Don't run off, now, I shall want toknow where to find you by and by.""No more running off, thank you. I'll stay here till you come, andfinish this box for Molly; she has a birthday this week, and I'vewritten to ask what day, so I can send it right up and surprise her.
　　Jack's eyes twinkled more than ever as he helped Jill settle herselfin the boat, and then with a whoop he tore over the beach, as ifpractising for the race which was to come off in the afternoon.
　　Jill was so busy with her work that time went quickly, and th~early boat came in just as the last pink shell was stuck in its place.
　　Putting the box in the sun to dry, she leaned out of her nook towatch the gay parties land, and go streaming up the pier along theroad that went behind the bank that sheltered her. Flocks ofchildren were running about on the sand, and presently strangersappeared, eager to see and enjoy all the delights of this gala-day.
　　"There's a fat little boy who looks ever so much like Boo," said Jillto herself, watching the people and hoping they would not comeand find her, since she had promised to stay till Jack returned.
　　The fat little boy was staring about him in a blissful sort of maze,holding a wooden shovel in one hand and the skirts of a young girlwith the other. Her back was turned to Jill, but something in thelong brown braid with a fly-away blue bow hanging down her backlooked very familiar to Jill. So did the gray suit and the Japaneseumbrella; but the hat was strange, and while she was thinking hownatural the boots looked, the girl turned round.
　　"Why, how much she looks like Molly! It can't be--yes, it might, Ido believe it is!" cried Jill, starting up and hardly daring to trusther own eyes.
　　As she came out of her nest and showed herself, there could be nodoubt about the other girl, for she gave one shout and came racingover the beach with both arms out, while her hat blew offunheeded, and the gay umbrella flew away, to the great delight ofall the little people except Boo, who was upset by his sister'simpetuous rush, and lay upon his back howling. Molly did not doall the running, though, and Jill got her wish, for, never stopping tothink of herself, she was off at once, and met her friend half-waywith an answering cry. Jr was a pretty sight to see them run intoone another's arms and hug and kiss and talk and skip in such astate of girlish joy they never cared who saw or laughed at theirinnocent raptures.
　　"You darling dear! where did you come from?" cried Jill, holdingMolly by both shoulders, and shaking her a little to be sure she wasreal.
　　"Mrs. Minot sent for us to spend a week. You look so well, I can'tbelieve my eyes!" answered Molly, patting Jill's cheeks and kissingthem over and over, as if to make sure the bright color would notcome off.
　　"A week? How splendid! Oh, I've such heaps to tell and show you;come right over to my cubby and see how lovely it is," said Jill,forgetting everybody else in her delight at getting Molly.
　　"I must get poor Boo, and my hat and umbrella, I left them allbehind me when I saw you," laughed Molly, looking back.
　　But Mrs. Minot and Jack had consoled Boo and collected thescattered property, so the girls went on arm in arm, and had a finetime before anyone had the heart to disturb them. Molly wascharmed with the boat, and Jill very glad the box was done inseason. Both had so much to tell and hear and plan, that theywould have sat there for ever if bathing-time had not come, andthe beach suddenly looked like a bed of red and yellow tulips, foreveryone took a dip, and the strangers added much to the fun.
　　Molly could swim like a duck, and quite covered herself with gloryby diving off the pier. Jack undertook to teach Boo, who was apromising pupil, being so plump that he could not sink if he tried.
　　Jill was soon through, and lay on the sand enjoying the antics ofthe bathers till she was so faint with laughter she was glad to hearthe dinner-horn and do the honors of the Willows to Molly, whoseroom was next hers.
　　Boat-races came first in the afternoon, and the girls watched them,sitting luxuriously in the nest, with the ladies and children closeby. The sailing-matches were very pretty to see; but Molly and Jillwere more interested in the rowing, for Frank and the bicycle boypulled one boat, and the friends felt that this one must win. It did,though the race was not very exciting nor the prize of great worth;but the boys and girls were satisfied, and Jack was much exalted,for he always told Frank he could do great things if he would onlydrop books and "go in on his muscle."Foot-races followed, and, burning to distinguish himself also, Jackinsisted on trying, though his mother warned him that the weak legmight be harmed, and he had his own doubts about it, as he was allout of practice. However, he took his place with a handkerchieftied round his head, red shirt and stockings, and his sleeves rolledup as if he meant business. Jill and Molly could not sit still duringthis race, and stood on the bank quite trembling with excitement asthe half-dozen runners stood in a line at the starting-post waitingfor the word "Go!"Off they went at last over the smooth beach to the pole with theflag at the further end, and cveryone watched them with mingledinterest and merriment, for they were a droll set, and the runningnot at all scientific with most of them. One young fisherman withbig boots over his trousers started off at a great pace, poundingalong in the most dogged way, while a little chap in a tightbathing-suit with very thin legs skimmed by him, looking so like asand-piper it was impossible to help laughing at both. Jack'sformer training stood him in good stead now; for he went to workin professional style, and kept a steady trot till the flagpole hadbeen passed, then he put on his speed and shot ahead of all therest, several of whom broke down and gave up. But Cox andBacon held on gallantly; and soon it was evident that the sturdylegs in the knickerbockers were gaining fast, for Jack gave hisankle an ugly wrench on a round pebble, and the weak knee beganto fail. He did his best, however, and quite a breeze of enthusiasmstirred the spectators as the three boys came down the course likemettlesome horses, panting, pale, or purple, but each bound to winat any cost.
　　Now, Bacon! "Go it, Minot! Hit him up, Cox! Jack's ahead!" "No,he isn't!" "Here they come!" "Bacon's done it!" shouted the otherboys, and they were right; Bacon had won, for the gray legs camein just half a yard ahead of the red ones, and Minot tumbled intohis brother's arms with hardly breath enough left to gasp out,good-humoredly, "All right, I'm glad he beat!"Then the victor was congratulated and borne off by his friends torefresh himself, while the lookers-on scattered to see a game oftennis and the shooting of the Archery Club up at the hotel. Jackwas soon rested, and, making light of his defeat, insisted on takingthe girls to see the fun. So they'd rove up in the old omnibus, andenjoyed the pretty sight very much; for the young ladies were inuniform, and the broad green ribbons over the white dresses, thegay quivers, long bows, and big targets, made a lively scene. Theshooting was good; a handsome damsel got the prize of a dozenarrows, and everyone clapped in the most enthusiastic manner.
　　Molly and Jill did not care about tennis, so they went home to restand dress for the evening, because to their minds the dancing, theillumination, and the fireworks were the best fun of all. Jill's whitebunting with cherry ribbons was very becoming, and the lively feetin the new slippers patted the floor impatiently as the sound ofdance music came down to the Willows after tea, and the othergirls waltzed on the wide piazza because they could not keep still.
　　"No dancing for me, but Molly must have a good time. You'll seethat she does, won't you, boys?" said Jill, who knew that her shareof the fun would be lying on a settee and watching the rest enjoyher favorite pastime.
　　Frank and Jack promised, and kc~t their word handsomely; forthere was plenty of room in the great dancing-hall at the hotel, andthe band in the pavilion played such inspiring music that, as thebicycle boy said, "Everyone who had a leg couldn't help shakingit." Molly was twirled about to her heart's content, and flew hitherand thither like a blue butterfly; for all the lads liked her, and shekept running up to tell Jill the funny things they said and did.
　　As night darkened from all the houses in the valley, on the cliffsand along the shore lights shone and sparkled; for everyonedecorated with gay lanterns, and several yachts in the bay strungcolored lamps about the little vessels, making a pretty picture onthe quiet sea. Jill thought she had never seen anything so likefairy-land, and felt very like one in a dream as she drove slowly upand down with Mamie, Gerty, Molly, and Mrs. Cox in the carriage,so that she might see it all without too much fatigue. It was verylovely; and when rockets began to whizz, filling the air withgolden rain, a shower of colored stars, fiery dragons, or glitteringwheels, the girls could only shriek with delight, and beg to stay alittle longer each time the prudent lady proposed going home.
　　It had to be at last; but Molly and Jill comforted themselves by along talk in bed, for it was impossible to sleep with glares of lightcoming every few minutes, flocks of people talking and trampingby in the road, and bursts of music floating down to them ~s thcoldcr but not wiser revellers kept up the merriment till a late hour.
　　They'd ropped off at last; but Jill had the nightmare, and Mollywas waked up by a violent jerking of her braid as Jill tried to towher along, dreaming she was a boat.
　　They were too sleepy to laugh much then, but next morning theymade merry over it, and went to breakfast with such happy facesthat all the young folks pronounced Jill's friend a most delightfulgirl. What a good time Molly did have that week! Other peoplewere going to leave also, and therefore much picnicking, boating,and driving was crowded into the last days. Clambakes on theshore, charades in the studio, sewing-parties at the boat, eveningfrolics in the big dining-room, farewell calls, gifts, and Invitations,all Sorts of plans for next summer, and vows of eternal friendshipexchanged between people who would soon forget each other. Itwas very pleasant, till poor Boo innocently added to theexcitement by poisoning a few of his neighbors with a bad lobster.
　　The ambitious little soul pined to catch one of these mysteriousbut lovely red creatures, and spent days fishing on the beach,investigating holes and corners, and tagging after the old man whosupplied the house. One day after a high wind he found several"lobs" washed up on the beach, and, though disappointed at theircolor, he picked out a big one, and set off to show his prize toMolly. Half-way home he met the old man on his way with abasket of fish, and being tired of lugging his contribution laid itwith the others, meaning to explain later. No one saw him do it, asthe old man was busy with his pipe; and Boo ran back to get moredear lobs, leaving his treasure to go into the kettle and appear atsupper, by which time he had forgotten all about it.
　　Fortunately none of the children ate any, but several older peoplewere made ill, and quite a panic prevailed that night as one afterthe other called up the doctor, who was boarding close by; andgood Mrs. Grey, the hostess, ran about with hot flannels, bottles ofmedicine, and distracted messages from room to room. All werecomfortable by morning, but the friends of the sufferers lay in waitfor the old fisherman, and gave him a good scolding for hiscarelessness. The poor man was protesting his innocence whenBoo, who was passing by, looked into the basket, and asked whathad become of his lob. A few questions brought the truth to light,and a general laugh put everyone in good humor, when poor Boomildly said, by way of explanation,"I fought I was helpin' Mrs. Dray, and I'd id want to see the dreenlob come out all red when she boiled him. But I fordot, and I don'tfink I'll ever find such a nice big one any more.""For our sakes, I hope you won't, my dear," said Mrs. Hammond,who had been nursing one of the sufferers.
　　"It's lucky we are going home to-morrow, or that child would bethe death of himself and everybody else. He is perfectly crazyabout fish, and I've pulled him out of that old lobster-pot on thebeach a dozen times," groaned Molly, much afflicted by themishaps of her young charge.
　　There was a great breaking up next day, and the old omnibus wentoff to the station with Bacon hanging on behind, the bicycle boyand his iron whirligig atop, and heads popping out of all thewindows for last good-byes. Our party and the Hammonds weregoing by boat, and were all ready to start for the pier when Booand little Harry were missing. Molly, the maid, and both boys randifferent ways to find them; and all sorts of dreadful suggestionswere being made when shouts of laughter were heard from thebeach, and the truants appeared, proudly dragging in Harry's littlewagon a dead devil-fish, as the natives call that ugly thing whichlooks like a magnified tadpole--all head and no body.
　　"We've dot him!" called the innocents, tugging up their prize withsuch solemn satisfaction it was impossible to help laughing.
　　"I always wanted to tatch a whale, and this is a baby one, I fink. Aboy said, when they wanted to die they corned on the sand and didit, and we saw this one go dead just now. Ain't lie pretty?" askedBoo, displaying the immense mouth with fond pride, while hisfriend flapped the tail.
　　"What are you going to do with him?" said Mrs. Hammond,regarding her infant as if she often asked herself the same questionabout her boy.
　　"Wap him up in a paper and tate him home to pay wid," answeredHarry, with such confidence in his big blue eyes that it was veryhard to disappoint his hopes and tell him the treasure must be leftbehind.
　　Wails of despair burst from both children as the hard-hearted boystipped out the little whale, and hustled the indignant fishermen onboard the boat, which had been whistling for them impatiently.
　　Boo recovered his spirits first, and gulping down a sob that nearlyshook his hat off, consoled his companion in affliction andconvulsed his friends by taking from his pocket several little crabs,the remains of a jelly-fish, and such a collection of pebbles thatFrank understood why he found the fat boy such a burden when heshouldered him, kicking and howling, in the late run to the boat.
　　These delicate toys healed the wounds of Boo and Harry, and theywere soon happily walking the little "trabs" about inside a stonewall of their own building, while the others rested after theirexertions, and laid plans for coming to the Willows another year,as people usually did who had once tasted the wholesome delightsand cordial hospitality of this charming place.
Chapter 23
Cattle ShowThe children were not the oniy ones who had learned something atPebbly Beach. Mrs. Minot bad talked a good deal with some verysuperior persons, and received light upon various subjects whichhad much interested or perplexed her. While the ladies worked orwalked together, they naturally spoke oftenest and most earnestlyabout their children, and each contributed her experience. Mrs.
　　Hammond, who had been a physician for many years, was wise inthe care of healthy little bodies, and the cure of sick ones. Mrs.
　　Channing, who had read, travelled, and observed much in thecause of education, had many useful hints about the training ofyoung minds and hearts. Several teachers reported their trials, andall the mothers were eager to know how to bring up their boys andgirls to be healthy, happy, useful men and women.
　　As young people do not care for such discussions, we will notdescribe them, but as the impression they made upon one of themammas affected our hero and heroine, we must mention thechanges which took place in their life when they all got homeagain.
　　"School begins to-morrow. Oh, dear!" sighed Jack, as he looked uphis books in the Bird Room, a day or two after their return.
　　"Don't you want to go? I long to, but don't believe I shall. I saw ourmothers talking to the doctor last night, but I haven't dared to askwhat they'd ecided," said Jill, affectionately eying the long-unusedbooks in her little library.
　　"I've had such a jolly good time, that I hate to be shut up all dayworse than ever, Don't you, Frank?" asked Jack, with a vengefulslap at the arithmetic which was the torment of his life.
　　"Well, I confess I don't hanker for school as much as I expected.
　　I'd rather take a spin on the old bicycle. Our roads are so good, it isa great temptation to hire a machine, and astonish the natives.
　　That's what comes of idleness. So brace up, my boy, and go towork, for vacation is over," answered Frank, gravely regarding thetall pile of books before him, as if trying to welcome his oldfriends, or tyrants, rather, for they ruled him with a rod of ironwhen he once gave himself up to them.
　　"Ah, but vacation is not over, my dears," said Mrs. Minot, hearingthe last words as she came in prepared to surprise her family.
　　"Glad of it. How much longer is it to be?" asked Jack, hoping for aweek at least.
　　"Two or three years for some of you.""What?" cried all three, in utter astonishment, as they stared atMamma, who could not help smiling, though she was very much inearnest.
　　"For the next two or three years I intend to cultivate my boys'
　　bodies, and let their minds rest a good deal, from books at least.
　　There is plenty to learn outside of school-houses, and I don't meanto shut you up just when you most need all the air and exercise youcan get. Good health, good principles, and a good education arethe three blessings I ask for you, and I am going to make sure ofthe first, as a firm foundation for the other two.""But, mother, what becomes of college?" asked Frank, ratherdisturbed at this change of base.
　　"Put it off for a year, and see if you are not better fitted for it thenthan now.""But I am already fitted: I've worked like a tiger all this year, andI'm sure I shall pass.""Ready in one way, but not in another. That hard work is nopreparation for four years of still harder study. It has cost you theseround shoulders, many a headache, and consumed hours when youhad far better have been on the river or in the fields. I cannot haveyou break down, as so many boys do, or pull through at the cost ofill-health afterward. Eighteen is young enough to begin the steadygrind, if you have a strong constitution to keep pace with the eagermind. Sixteen is too young to send even my good boy out into theworld, just when he most needs his mother's care to help him bethe man she hopes to see him."Mrs. Minot laid her hand on his shoulder as she spoke, looking sofond and proud that it was impossible to rebel, though some of hismost cherished plans were spoilt.
　　"Other fellows go at my age, and I was rather pleased to be readyat sixteen," he began. But she added, quickly,"They go, but how do they come out? Many lose health of body,and many what is more precious still, moral strength, because tooyoung and ignorant to withstand temptations of all sorts. The bestpart of education does not come from books, and the goodprinciples I value more than either of the other things are to becarefully watched over till firmly fixed; then you may face theworld, and come to no real harm. Trust me, dear, I do it for yoursake; so bear the disappointment bravely, and in the end I thinkyou will say I'm right.""I'll do my best; but I don't see what is to become of us if we don'tgo to school. You will get tired of it first," said Frank, trying to seta good example to the others, who were looking much impressedand interested.
　　"No danger of that, for I never sent my children to school to get ridof them, and now that they are old enough to be companions, Iwant them at home more than ever. There are to be some lessons,however, for busy minds must be fed, but not crammed; so youboys will go and recite at certain hours such things as seem mostimportant. But there is to be no studying at night, no shutting up allthe best hours of the day, no hurry and fret of getting on fast, orskimming over the surface of many studies without learning anythoroughly.""So I say!" cried Jack, pleased with the new idea, for he never didlove books. "I do hate to be driven so I don't half understand,because there is no time to have things explained. School is goodfun as far as play goes; but I don't see the sense of making a fellowlearn eighty questions in geography one day, and forget them thenext.
　　"What is to become of me, please?" asked Jill, meekly.
　　"You and Molly are to have lessons here. I was a teacher when Iwas young, you know, and liked it, so I shall be school-ma'am, andleave my house-keeping in better hands than mine. I alwaysthought that mothers should teach their girls during these years,and vary their studies to suit the growing creatures as only motherscan.
　　"That will be splendid! Will Molly's father let her come?" criedJill, feeling quite reconciled to staying at home, if her friend wasto be with her.
　　"He likes the plan very much, for Molly is growing fast, and needsa sort of care that Miss Dawes cannot give her. I am not a hardmistress, and I hope you will find my school a pleasant one.""I know I shall; and I'm not disappointed, because I was pretty sureI couldn't go to the old school again, when I heard the doctor say Imust be very careful for a long time. I thought he meant months;but if it must he years, I can bear it, for I've been happy this lastone though I was sick," said Jill, glad to show that it had not beenwasted time by being cheerful and patient now.
　　"That's my good girl!" and Mrs. Minot stroked the curly black headas if it was her own little daughter's. "You have done so well, Iwant you to go on improving, for care now will save you pain anddisappointment by and by. You all have got a capital start duringthese six weeks, so it is a good time to begin my experiment. If itdoes not work well, we will go back to school and college nextspring.""Hurrah for Mamma and the long vacation!" cried Jack, catchingup two big books and whirling them round like clubs, as if to gethis muscles in order at once.
　　"Now I shall have time to go to the Gymnasium and straighten outmy back," said Frank, who was growing so tall he needed morebreadth to make his height symmetrical.
　　"And to ride horscback. I am going to hire old Jane and get out thelittle phaeton, so we can all enjoy the fine weather while it lasts.
　　Molly and I can drive Jill, and you can take turns in the saddlewhen you are tired of ball and boating. Exercise of all sorts is oneof the lessons we are to learn," said Mrs. Minot, suggesting all thepleasant things she could to sweeten the pill for her pupils, two ofwhom did love their books, not being old enough to know thateven an excellent thing may be overdone.
　　"Won't that be gay? I'll get down the saddle to-day, so we canbegin right off. Lem rides, and we can go together. Hope old Janewill like it as well as I shall," said Jack, who had found a newfriend in a pleasant lad lately come to town.
　　"You must see that she does, for you boys are to take care of her.
　　We will put the barn in order, and you can decide which shall behostler and which gardener, for I don't intend to hire labor on theplace any more. Our estate is not a large one, and it will beexcellent work for you, my men.""All right! I'll see to Jane. I love horses," said Jack, well pleasedwith the prospect.
　　"My horse won't need much care. I prefer a bicycle to a beast, soI'll get in the squashes, pick the apples, and cover the strawberrybed when it is time," added Frank, who had enjoyed the free life atPebbly Beach so much that he was willing to prolong it.
　　"You may put me in a hen-coop, and keep me there a year, if youlike. I won't fret, for I'm sure you know what is best for me," saidJill, gayly, as she looked up at the good friend who had done somuch for her.
　　"I'm not sure that I won't put you in a pretty cage and send you toCattle Show, as a sample of what we can do in the way of taming awild bird till it is nearly as meek as a dove," answered Mrs. Minot,much gratified at the amiability of her flock.
　　"I don't see why there should not be an exhibition of children, andprizes for the good and pretty ones, as well as for fat pigs, finehorses, or handsome fruit and flowers--I don't mean a baby show,but boys and girls, so people can see what the prospect is of a goodcrop for the next generation," said Frank, glancing toward thetower of the building where the yearly Agricultural Fair was soonto be held.
　　"Years ago, there was a pretty custom here of collecting all theschools together in the spring, and having a festival at the TownHall. Each school showed its best pupils, and the parents lookedon at the blooming flower show. It was a pity it was ever given up,for the schools have never been so good as then, nor the interest inthem so great"; and Mrs. Minot wondered, as many people do, whyfarmers seem to care more for their cattle and crops than for theirchildren, willingly spending large sums on big barns and costlyexperiments, while the school-houses are shabby and inconvenient,and the cheapest teachers preferred.
　　"Ralph is going to send my bust. He asked if he might, and mothersaid Yes. Mr. German thinks it very good, and I hope other peoplewill," said Jill, nodding toward the little plaster head that smileddown from its bracket with her own merry look.
　　"I could send my model; it is nearly done. Ralph told me it was aclever piece of work, and he knows," added Frank, quite takenwith the idea of exhibiting his skill in mechanics.
　　"And I could send my star bedquilt! They always have things ofthat kind at Cattle Show"; and Jill began to rummage in the closetfor the pride of her heart, burning to display it to an admiringworld.
　　"I haven't got anything. Can't sew rags together; or make babyengines, and I have no live-stock--yes, I have too! There's old Bun.
　　I'll send him, for the fun of it; he really is a curiosity, for he is thebiggest one I ever saw, and hopping into the lime has made his fursuch a queer color, he looks like a new sort of rabbit. I'll catch andshut him up before he gets wild again"; and off rushed Jack to lureunsus Fectins old Bun, who had grown tame during their absence,into the cage which he detested.
　　They all laughed at his ardor, but the fancy pleased them; and asMamma saw no reason why their little works of art should not besent, Frank fell to work on his model, and Jill resolved to finishher quilt at once, while Mrs. Minot went off to see Mr. Actonabout the hours and studies for the boys.
　　In a week or two, the young people were almost resigned to theloss of school, for they found themselves delightfully fresh for thefew lessons they did have, and not weary of play, since it tookmany useful forms. Old Jane not only carried them all to ride, butgave Jack plenty of work keeping her premises in nice order. Frankmourned privately over the delay of college, but found a solace inhis whirligig and the Gymnasium, where he set himself todeveloping a chest to match the big head above, which head nolonger ached with eight or ten hours of study. Harvesting beansand raking up leaves seemed to have a soothing effect upon hisnerves, for now he fell asleep at once instead of thumping hispillow with vexation because his brain would go on working atdifficult problems and passages when he wanted it to stop.
　　Jill and Molly drove away in the little phaeton every fair morningover the sunny hills and through the changing woods, filling theirhands with asters and golden-rod, their lungs with the pure,invigorating air, and their heads with all manner of sweet andhappy fancies and feelings born of the wholesome influences ahoutthem, People 5hook their heads, and said it was wasting time; butthe rosy-faced girls were Content to trust those wiser thanthemselves, and found their new school very pleasant. They readaloud a good deal, rapidly acquiring one of the rarest and mostbeautiful accomplishments; for they could stop and ask questionsas they went along, so that they understood what they read, whichis half the secret. A thousand things came up as they sewedtogether in the afternoon, and the eager minds received muchgeneral information in an easy and well-ordered way. Physiologywas one of the favorite studies, and Mrs. Hammond often came into give them a little lecture, teaching them to understand thewonders of their own systems, and how to keep them in order-- alesson of far more importance just then than Greek or Latin, forgirls are the future mothers, nurses, teachers, of the race, andshould feel how much depends on them. Merry could not resist theattractions of the friendly circle, and soon persuaded her mother tolet her do as they did; so she got more exercise and less study,which was just what the delicate girl needed.
　　The first of the new ideas seemed to prosper, and the second,though suggested in joke, was carried out in earnest, for the otheryoung people were seized with a strong desire to send somethingto the Fair. In fact, all sorts of queer articles were proposed, andmuch fun prevailed, especially among the boys, who ransackedtheir gardens for mammoth vegetables, sighed for five-leggedcalves, blue roses, or any other natural curiosity by means of whichthey might distinguish themselves. Ralph was the only one whohad anything really worth sending; for though Franks modelseemed quite perfect, it obstinately refused to go, and at the lastmoment blew up with a report like a pop-gun. So it was laid awayfor repairs, and its disappointed maker devoted his energies tohelping Jack keep Bun in order; for that indomitable animal gotout of every prison they put him in, and led Jack a dreadful lifeduring that last week. At all hours of the day and night thatdistracted boy would start up, crying, "There he is again!" and dartout to give chase and capture the villain now grown too fat to runas he once did.
　　The very night before the Fair, Frank was wakened by a chillydraught, and, getting up to see where it came from, found Jack'sdoor open and bed empty, while the vision of a white ghost flittingabout the garden suggested a midnight rush after old Bun. Frankwatched laughingly, till poor Jack came toward the house with thegentleman in gray kicking lustily in his arms, and then whisperedin a sepulchral tone,"Put him in the old refrigerator, he can't get out of that,"Blessing him for the suggestion, the exhausted hunter shut up hisvictim in the new cell, and found it a safe one, for Bun could notburrow through a sheet of zinc, or climb up the smooth walls. Jill'squilt was a very elaborate piece of work, being bright blue withlittle white stars all over it; this she finished nicely, and felt sureno patient old lady could outdo it. Merry decided to send butter,for she had been helping her mother in the dairy that summer, andrather liked the light part of the labor. She knew it would pleaseher very much if she chose that instead of wild Bowers, so shepractised moulding the yellow pats into pretty shapes, that it mightplease both eye and taste.
　　Molly declared she would have a little pen, and put Boo in it, asthe prize fat boy--a threat which so alarmed the innocent that heran away, ani was ~ouncl two or three miles prom borne, asleepunder the wall, with two seed-cakes and a pair of socks done up ina bundle. Being with difficulty convinced that it was a joke, heconsented to return to his family, but was evidently suspicious, tillMolly decided to send her cats, and set about preparing them forexhibition. The Minots' deserted Bunny-house was rather large; butas cats cannot be packed as closely as much-enduring sheep, Mollyborrowed this desirable family mansion, and put her darlings intoit, where they soon settled down, and appeared to enjoy their newresidence. It had been scrubbed up and painted red, cushions andplates put in, and two American flags adorned the roof. Beingbarred all round, a fine view of the Happy Family could be had,now twelve in number, as Molasses had lately added three whitekits to the varied collection.
　　The girls thought this would be the most interesting spectacle ofall, and Grif proposed to give some of the cats extra tails, toincrease their charms, especially poor Mortification, who wouldappreciate the honor of two, after having none for so long. ButMolly declined, and Grif looked about him for some attractiveanimal to exhibit, so that he too might go in free and come tohonor, perhaps.
　　A young lady in the town owned a donkey, a small, gray beast,who insisted on tripping along the sidewalks and bumping herrider against the walls as she paused to browse at her own sweetwill, regardless of blows or cries, till ready to move on. Expressinggreat admiration for this rare animal, Grif obtained leave to displaythe charms of Graciosa at the Fair. Little did she guess the darkdesigns entertained against her dignity, and happily she was not assensitive to ridicule as a less humble-minded animal, so she wentwillingly with her new friend, and enjoyed the combing andtrimming up which she received at his hands, while he preparedfor the great occasion.
　　When the morning of September 28th arrived, the town was allastir, and the Fair ground a lively scene. The air was full of thelowing of cattle, the tramp of horses, squealing of indignant pigs,and clatter of tongues, as people and animals streamed in at thegreat gate and found their proper places. Our young folks were in ahigh state of excitement, as they rumbled away with their treasuresin a hay-cart. The Bunny-house might have been a cage of tigers,so rampant were the cats at this new move. Old Bun, in a smallbox, brooded over the insult of the refrigerator, and looked asfierce as a rabbit could. Gus had a coop of rare fowls, who cluckedwildly all the way, while Ralph, with the bust in his arms, stood upin front, and Jill and Molly bore the precious bedquilt, as they satbehind.
　　These objects of interest were soon arranged, and the girls went toadmire Merry's golden butter cups among the green leaves, underwhich lay the ice that kept the pretty flowers fresh. The boys weredown below, where the cackling was very loud, but not loudenough to drown the sonorous bray which suddenly startled themas much as it did the horses outside. A shout of laughter followed,and away went the lads, to see what the fun was, while the girlsran out on the balcony, as someone said, "It's that rogue of a Grifwith some new joke."It certainly was, and, to judge from the peals of merriment, thejoke was a good one. In at the gate came a two-headed donkey,ridden by Grif, in great spirits at his success, for the gate-keeperlaughed so he never thought to ask for toll. A train of boysfollowed him across the ground, lost in admiration of the animaland the cleverness of her rider. Among the stage properties of theDramatic Club was the old ass's head once used in some tableauxfrom "Midsummer Night's Dream." This Grif had mended up, andfastened by means of straps and a collar to poor Graciosa's neck,hiding ~ work with a red cloth over her back. One eye was gone,but the other still opened and shut, and the long ears wagged bymeans of strings, which he slyly managed with the bridle, so theartificial head looked almost as natural as the real one. Thefunniest thing of all was the innocent air of Graciosa, and themildly inquiring expression with which she now and then turned tolook at or to smell of the new ornament as if she recognized afriend's face, yet was perplexed by its want of animation. Shevented her feelings in a bray, which Grif imitated, convulsing allhearers by the sound as well as by the wink the one eye gave, andthe droll waggle of one erect ear, while the other pointed straightforward.
　　The girls laughed so at the ridiculous sight that they nearly fellover the railing, and the boys were in ecstasies, especially whenGrif, emboldened by his success, trotted briskly round therace-course, followed by the cheers of the crowd. Excited by thenoise, Graciosa did her best, till the false head, loosened by therapid motion, slipped round under her nose, causing her to stop sosuddenly that Grif flew off, alighting on his own head with aviolence which would have killed any other boy. Sobered by hisdownfall, he declined to mount again, but led his steed to repose ina shed, while he rejoined his friends, who were waiting impatientlyto congratulate him on his latest and best prank.
　　The Committee went their rounds soon after, and, when the doorswere again opened, everyone hurried to see if their articles hadreceived a premium. A card lay on the butter cups, and Mrs. Grantwas full of pride because her butter always took a prize, and thisproved that Merry was walking in her mother's steps, in thisdirection at least. Another card swung from the blue quilt, for thekindly judges knew who made it, and were glad to please the littlegirl, though several others as curious but not so pretty hung nearby. The cats were admired, but, as they were not among theanimals usually exhibited, there was no prize awarded. Gus hopedhis hens would get one; hut somebody else outdid him, to the greatindignation of Laura and Lotty, who had fed the white biddiesfaithfully for months. Jack was sure his rabbit was the biggestthere, and went eagerly to look for his premium. But neither cardnor Bun were to be seen, for the old rascal had escaped for the lasttime, and was never seen again; which was a great comfort to Jack,who was heartily tired of him.
　　Ralph's bust was the best of all, for not only did it get a prize, andwas much admired, but a lady, who found Jill and Merry rejoicingover it, was so pleased with the truth and grace of the little head,that she asked about the artist, and whether he would do one of herown child, who was so delicate she feared he might not live long.
　　Merry gladly told the story of her ambitious friend, and went tofind him, that he might secure the order. While she was gone, Jilltook up the tale, gratefully telling how kind he had been to her,how patiently he worked and waited, and how much he longed togo abroad. Fortunately the lady was rich and generous, as well asfond of art, and being pleased with the bust, and interested in theyoung sculptor, gave him the order wher~ he came, and filled hissoul with joy by adding, that, if it suited her when done, it shouldbe put into marble. She lived in the city, and Ralph soon arrangedhis work so that he could give up his noon hour, and go to modelthe child; for every penny he could earn or save now was veryprecious, as he still hoped to go abroad.
　　The girls were so delighted with this good fortune, that they didnot stay for the races, but went home to tell the happy news,leaving the boys to care for the cats, and enjoy the various matchesto come off that day.
　　"I'm so glad I tried to look pleasant when I was lying on the boardwhile Ralph did my head, for the pleasantness got into the clayface, and that made the lady like it," said Jill, as she lay resting onthe sofa.
　　"I always thought it was a dear, bright little face, but now I loveand admire it more than ever," cried Merry, kissing it gratefully, asshe remembered the help and pleasure it had given Ralph.
Chapter 24
Down the RiverA fortnight later, the boys were picking apples one golden Octoberafternoon, and the girls were hurrying to finish their work, thatthey might go and help the harvesters. It was six weeks now Sincethe new school began, and they had learned to like it very much,though they found that it was not all play, by any means. Butlessons, exercise, and various sorts of housework made anagreeable change, and they felt that they were learning thingswhich would be useful to them all their lives. They had beenmaking underclothes for themselves, and each had several neatlyfinished garments cut, fitted, and sewed by herself, and trimmedwith the pretty tatting Jill made in such quantities while she lay onher sofa.
　　Now they were completing new dressing sacks, and had enjoyedthis job very much, as each chose her own material, and suited herown taste in the making. Jill's was white, with tiny scarlet leavesall over it, trimmed with red braid and buttons so likecheckerberries she was tempted to eat them. Molly's was gay, withbouquets of every sort of flower, scalloped all round, and adornedwith six buttons, each of a different color, which she thought thelast touch of elegance. Merry's, though the simplest, was thedaintiest of the three, being pale blue, trimmed with delicateedging, and beautifully made.
　　Mrs. Minot had been reading from Miss Strickland's "Queens ofEngland" while the girls worked, and an illustrated Sliakspeare layopen on the table, as well as several fine photographs of historicalplaces for them to look at as they went along. The hour was overnow, the teacher gone, and the pupils setting the last stitches asthey talked over the lesson, which had interested themexceedingly.
　　"I really believe I have got Henry's six wives into my head right atlast. Two Annes, three Katherines, and one Jane. Now I've seenwhere they lived and heard their stories, I quite feel as if I knewthem," said Merry, shaking the threads off her work before shefolded it up to carry home.
　　"King Henry the Eighth to six spouses was wedded,One died, one survived, two divorced, two beheaded,'
　　was all I knew about them before. Poor things, what a bad timethey did have," added Jill, patting down the red braid, which wouldpucker a bit at the corners.
　　"Katherine Parr had the best of it, because she outlived the oldtyrant and so kept her head on," said Molly, winding the threadround her last button, as if bound to fasten it on so firmly thatnothing should decapitate that.
　　"I used to think I'd like to be a queen or a great lady, and wearvelvet and jewels, and live in a palace, but now I don't care muchfor that sort of splendor. I like to make things pretty at home, andknow that they all depend on me, and love me very much. Queensarc not happy, and I am," said Merry, pausing to look at AnneHathaway's cottage as she put up the picture, and to wonder if itwas very pleasant to have a famous man for one's husband.
　　"I guess your missionarying has done you good; mine has, and I'mgetting to have things my own way more and more every day. MissBat is so amiable, I hardly know her, and father tells her to askMiss Molly when she goes to him for orders. Isn't that fun?"laughed Molly, in high glee, at the agreeable change. "I like it everso much, but I don't want to stay so all my days. I mean to travel,and just as soon as I can I shall take Boo and go all round theworld, and see everything," she added, waving her gay sack, as if itwere the flag she was about to nail to the masthead of her ship.
　　"Well, I should like to be famous in some way, and have peopleadmire me very much. I'd like to act, or dance, or sing, or be what Iheard the ladies at Pebbly Beach call a 'queen of society.' But Idon't expect to be anything, and I'm not going to worry I shall notbe a Lucinda, so I ought to be contented and happy all my life,"said Jill, who was very ambitious in spite of the newly acquiredmeekness, which was all the more becoming because her naturalliveliness often broke out like sunshine through a veil of lightclouds.
　　If the three girls could have looked forward ten years they wouldhave been surprised to see how different a fate was theirs from theone each had chosen, and how happy each was in the place shewas called to fill. Merry was not making the old farmhouse pretty,but living in Italy, with a young sculptor for her husband, andbeauty such as she never dreamed of all about her. Molly was nottravelling round the world, but contentedly keeping house for herfather and still watching over Boo, who was becoming her prideand joy as well as care. Neither was Jill a famous woman, but avery happy and useful one, with the two mothers leaning on her asthey grew old, the young men better for her influence over them,many friends to love and honor her, and a charming home, whereshe was queen by right of her cheery spirit, grateful heart, andunfailing devotion to those who had made her what she was.
　　If any curious reader, not content with this peep into futurity, asks,"Did Molly and Jill ever marry?" we must reply, for the sake ofpeace--Molly remained a merry spinster all her days, one of theindependent, brave, and busy creatures of whom there is such needin the world to help take care of other peoples' wives and children,and do the many useful jobs that the married folk have no time for.
　　Jill certainly did wear a white veil on the day she was twenty-fiveand called her husband Jack. Further than that we cannot go,except to say that this leap did not end in a catastrophe, like thefirst one they took together.
　　That day, however, they never dreamed of what was in store forthem, but chattered away as they cleared up the room, and then ranoff ready for play, feeling that they had earned it by work welldone. They found the lads just finishing, with Boo to help bypicking up the windfalls for the cider-heap, after he had amusedhimself by putting about a bushel down the various holes old Bunhad left behind him. Jack was risking his neck climbing in themost dangerous places, while Frank, with a long-handledapple-picker, nipped off the finest fruit with care, both enjoyingthe pleasant task and feeling proud of the handsome red andyellow piles all about the little orchard. Merry and Molly caughtup baskets and fell to work with all their might, leaving Jill to situpon a stool and sort the early apples ready to use at once, lookingup now and then to nod and smile at her mother who watched herfrom the window, rejoicing to see her lass so well and happy.
　　It was such a lovely day, they all felt its cheerful influence; for thesun shone bright and warm, the air was full of an invigoratingfreshness which soon made the girls' faces look like rosy apples,and their spirits as gay as if they had been stealing sips of newcider through a straw. Jack whistled like a blackbird as he swungand bumped about, Frank orated and joked, Merry and Molly ranraces to see who would fill and empty fastest, and Jill sung to Boo,who reposed in a barrel, exhausted with his labors.
　　"These are the last of the pleasant days, and we ought to make themost of them. Let's have one more picnic before the frost spoils theleaves," said Merry, resting a minute at the gate to look down thestreet, which was a glorified sort of avenue, with brilliant mapleslining the way and carpeting the ground with crimson and gold.
　　"Oh, yes! Go down the river once more and have supper on theIsland. I couldn't go to some of your picnics, and I do long for alast good time before winter shuts me up again," cried Jill, eager toharvest all the sunshine she could, for she was not yet quite her oldself again.
　　"I'm your man, if the other fellows agree. We can't barrel these upfor a while, so to-morrow will be a holiday for us. Better makesure of the day while you can, this weather can't last long"; andFrank shook his head like one on intimate terms with Old Prob.
　　"Don't worry about those high ones, Jack. Give a shake and comedown and plan about the party," called Molly, throwing up a bigBaldwin with what seemed a remarkably good aim, for a shower ofapples followed, and a boy came tumbling earthward to catch onthe lowest bough and swing down like a caterpillar, exclaiming, ashe landed,"I'm glad that job is done! I've rasped every knuckle I've got andworn out the knees of my pants. Nice little crop though, isn't it?""It will be nicer if this young man does not bite every apple hetouches. Hi there! Stop it, Boo," commanded Frank, as he caughthis young assistant putting his small teeth into the best ones, to seeif they were sweet or sour.
　　Molly set the barrel up on end, and that took the boy out of thereach of mischief, so he retired from view and peeped through acrack as he ate his fifth pearmain, regardless of consequences.
　　"Gus will be at home to-morrow. He always comes up early onSaturday, you know. We can't get on without him," said Frank,who missed his mate very much, for Gus had entered college, andso far did not like it as much as he had expected.
　　"Or Ralph; he is very busy every spare minute on the little boy'sbust, which is getting on nicely, he says; but he will be able tocome home in time for supper, I think," added Merry,remembering the absent, as usual.
　　"I'll ask the girls on my way home, and all meet at two o'clock fora good row while it's warm. What shall I bring?" asked Molly,wondering if Miss Bat's amiability would extend to makinggoodies in the midst of her usual Saturday's baking.
　　"You bring coffee and the big pot and some buttered crackers. I'llsee to the pie and cake, and the other girls can have anything elsethey like," answered Merry, glad and proud that she could providethe party with her own inviting handiwork.
　　"I'll take my zither, so we can have music as we sail, and Grif willbring his violin, and Ralph can imitate a banjo so that you'd besure he had one. I do hope it will be fine, it is so splendid to goround like other folks and enjoy myself," cried Jill, with a littlebounce of satisfaction at the prospect of a row and ramble.
　　"Come along, then, and make sure of the girls," said Merry,catching up her roll of work, for the harvesting was done.
　　Molly put her sack on as the easiest way of carrying it, and,extricating Boo, they went off, accompanied by the boys, "to makesure of the fellows" also, leaving Jill to sit among the apples,singing and sorting like a thrifty little housewife.
　　Next day eleven young people met at the appointed place, basketin hand. Ralph could not come till later, for he was working nowas he never worked before. They were a merry flock, for themellow autumn day was even brighter and clearer than yesterday,and the river looked its loveliest, winding away under the sombrehemlocks, or through the fairyland the gay woods made on eitherside. Two large boats and two small ones held them all, and awaythey went, first up through the three bridges and round the bend,then, turning, they floated down to the green island, where a groveof oaks rustled their sere leaves and the squirrels were stillgathering acorns. Here they often met to keep their summer revels,and here they now spread their feast on the flat rock which neededno cloth beside its own gray lichens. The girls trimmed each dishwith bright leaves, and made the supper look like a banquet for theelves, while the boys built a fire in the nook where ashes andblackened stones told of many a rustic meal. The big tin coffee-potwas not so romantic, but more successful than a kettle slung onthree sticks, gypsy fashion; so they did not risk a downfall, but setthe water boiling, and soon filled the air with the agreeableperfume associated in their minds with picnics, as most of themnever tasted the fascinating stuff at any other time, being the worstchildren can drink.
　　Frank was cook, Gus helped cut bread and cake, Jack and Grifbrought wood, while Bob Walker took Joe's place and madehimself generally useful, as the other gentleman never did, and sowas quite out of favor lately.
　　All was ready at last, and they were just deciding to sit downwithout Ralph, when a shout told them he was coming, and downthe river skimmed a wherry at such a rate the boys wonderedwhom he had been racing with.
　　"Something has happened, and he is coming to tell us," said Jill,who sat where she could see his eager face.
　　"Nothing bad, or he wouldn't smile so. He is glad of a good rowand a little fun after working so hard all the week"; and Merryshook a red napkin as a welcoming signal.
　　Something certainly had happened, and a very happy something itmust be, they all thought, as Ralph came on with flashing oars, andleaping out as the boat touched the shore, ran up the slope, wavinghis hat, and calling in a glad voice, sure of sympathy in his delight,"Good news! good news! Hurrah for Rome, next month!"The young folks forgot their supper for a moment, to congratulatehim on his happy prospect, and hear all about it, while the leavesrustled as if echoing the kind words, and the squirrels sat up aloft,wondering what all the pleasant clamor was about.
　　Yes, I'm really going in November. German asked me to go withhim to-day, and if there is any little hitch in my getting off, he'lllend a hand, and I--I'll black his boots, wet his clay, and run hiserrands the rest of my life to pay for this!" cried Ralph, in a burstof gratitude; for, independent as he was, the kindness of thissuccessful friend to a deserving comrade touched and won hisheart.
　　"I call that a handsome thing to do!" said Frank, warmly, for nobleactions always pleased him. "I heard my mother say that makinggood or useful men was the best sort of sculpture, so I think DavidGerman may be proud of this piece of work, whether the big statuesucceeds or not.""I'm very glad, old fellow, When I run over for my trip four yearsfrom now, I'll look you up, and see how you are getting on," saidGus, with a hearty shake of the hand; and the younger lads grinnedcheerfully, even while they wondered where the fun was inshaping clay and chipping marble.
　　"Shall you stay four years?" asked Merry's soft voice, while awistful look came into her happy eyes.
　　"Ten, if I can," answered Ralph, decidedly, feeling as if a longlifetime would be all too short for the immortal work he meant todo. "I've got so much to learn, that I shall do whatever Davidthinks best for me at first, and when I can go alone, I shall just shutmyself up and forget that there is any world outside my den.""Do write and tell us how you get on now and then; I like to hearabout other people's good times while I'm waiting for my own,"said Molly, too much interested to observe that Grif was stickingburrs up and down her braids.
　　"Of course I shall write to some of you, but you mustn't expect anygreat things for years yet. People don't grow famous in a hurry, andit takes a deal of hard work even to earn your bread and butter, asyou'll find if you ever try it," answered Ralph, sobering down alittle as he remembered the long and steady effort it had taken toget even so far.
　　"Speaking of bread and butter reminds me that we'd better eat oursbefore the coffee gets quite cold," said Annette, for Merry seemedto have forgotten that she had been chosen to play matron, as shewas the oldest.
　　The boys seconded the motion, and for a few minutes supper wasthe all-absorbing topic, as the cups went round and the goodiesvanished rapidly, accompanied by the usual mishaps which makepicnic meals such fun. Ralph's health was drunk with all sorts ofgood wishes; and such splendid prophecies were made, that hewould have far surpassed Michael Angelo, if they could have cometrue. Grif gave him an order on the spot for a full-length statue ofhimself, and stood up to show the imposing attitude in which hewished to be taken, but unfortunately slipped and fell forward withone hand in the custard pie, the other clutching wildly at thecoffee-pot, which inhospitably burnt his fingers.
　　"I think I grasp the idea, and will be sure to remember not to makeyour hair blow one way and the tails of your coat another, as acertain sculptor made those of a famous man," laughed Ralph, asthe fallen hero scrambled up, amidst general merriment.
　　"Will the little bust be done before you go?" asked Jill, anxiously,feeling a personal interest in the success of that order.
　　"Yes: I've been hard at it every spare minute I could get, and have afortnight more. It suits Mrs. Lennox, and she will pay well for it,so I shall have something to start with, though I haven't been ableto save much. I'm to thank you for that, and I shall send you thefirst pretty thing I get hold of," answered Ralph, looking gratefullyat the bright face, which grew still brighter as Jill exclaimed,"I do feel so proud to know a real artist, and have my bust done byhim. I only wish I could pay for it as Mrs. Lennox does; but Ihaven't any money, and you don't need the sort of things I canmake," she added, shaking her head, as she thought over knitslippers, wall-pockets, and crochet in all its forms, as offerings toher departing friend.
　　"You can write often, and tell me all about everybody, for I shallwant to know, and people will soon forget me when I'm gone,"said Ralph, lookir~g at Merry, who was making a garland ofyellow leaves for Juliet's black hair.
　　Jill promised, and kept her word; but the longest letters went fromthe farm-house on the hill, though no one knew the fact till longafterward. Merry said nothing now, but she smiled, with a prettycolor in her cheeks, and was very much absorbed in her work,while the talk went on.
　　"I wish I was twenty, and going to seek my fortune, as you are,"said Jack; and the other boys agreed with him, for something inRalph's new plans and purposes roused the manly spirit in all ofthem, reminding them that playtime would soon be over, and thegreat world before them, where to choose.
　　"It is easy enough to say what you'd like; but the trouble is, youhave to take what you can get, and make the best of it," said Gus,whose own views were rather vague as yet.
　　"No you don't, always; you can make things go as you want them,if you only try hard enough, and walk right over whatever stands inthe way. I don't mean to give up my plans for any man; but, if Ilive, I'll carry them out--you see if I don't"; and Frank gave therock where he lay a blow with his fist, that sent the acorns flyingall about.
　　One of them hit Jack, and he said, sorrowfully, as he held it in hishand so carefully it was evident he had some association with it,"Ed used to say that, and he had some splendid plans, but theydidn't come to anything.""Perhaps they did; who can tell? Do your best while you live, and Idon't believe anything good is lost, whether we have it a long or ashort time," said Ralph, who knew what a help and comfort highhopes were, and how they led to better things, if worthilycherished.
　　"A great many acorns are wasted, I suppose; but some of themsprout and grow, and make splendid trees," added Merry, feelingmore than she knew how to express, as she looked up at the oaksoverhead.
　　Only seven of the party were sitting on the knoll now, for the resthad gone to wash the dishes and pack the baskets down by theboats. Jack and Jill, with the three elder boys, were in a littlegroup, and as Merry spoke, Gus said to Frank,"Did you plant yours?""Yes, on the lawn, and I mean it shall come up if I can make it,"answered Frank, gravely.
　　"I put mine where I can see it from the window, and not forget towater and take care of it," added Jack, still turning the prettybrown acorn to and fro as if he loved it.
　　"What do they mean?" whispered Merry to Jill, who was leaningagainst her knee Lo rest.
　　"The boys were walking in the Cemetery last Sunday, as they oftendo, and when they came to Ed's grave, the place was all coveredwith little acorns from the tree that grows on the bank. They eachtook up some as they stood talking, and Jack said he should planthis, for he loved Ed very much, you know. The others said theywould, too; and I hope the trees will grow, though we don't needanything to remember him by," answered Jill, in a low tone,thinking of the pressed flowers the girls kept for his sake.
　　The boys heard her, but no one spoke for a moment as they satlooking across the river toward the hill where the pines whisperedtheir lullabies and pointed heavenward, steadfast and green, all theyear round. None of them could express the thought that was intheir minds as Jill told the little story; but the act and the feelingthat prompted it were perhaps as beautiful an assurance as couldhave been given that the dear dead boy's example had not beenwasted, for the planting of the acorns was a symbol of the desirebudding in those young hearts to be what he might have been, andto make their lives nobler for the knowledge and the love of him.
　　"It seems as if a great deal had happened this year," said Merry, ina pensive tone, for this quiet talk just suited her mood.
　　"So I say, for there's been a Declaration of Independence and aRevolution in our house, and I'm commander-in-chief now; anddon't I like it!" cried Molly, complacently surveying the neat newuniform she wore of her own choosing.
　　"I feel as if I never learned so much in my life as I have since lastDecember, and yet I never did so little," added Jill, wondering whythe months of weariness and pain did not seem more dreadful toher.
　　'Well, pitching on my head seems to have given me a good shakingup, somehow, and I mean to do great things next year in betterways than breaking my bones coasting," said Jack, with a manlyair.
　　"I feel like a Siamese twin without his mate now you are gone, butI'm under orders for a while, and mean to do my best. Guess itwon't be lost time"; and Frank nodded at Gus, who nodded backwith the slightly superior expression all Freshmen wear.
　　"Hope you won't find it so. My work is all cut out for me, and Iintend to go in and win, though it is more of a grind than youfellows know.""I'm sure I have everything to be grateful for. It won't be plainsailing--I don't expect it; but, if I live, I'll do something to be proudof," said Ralph, squaring his shoulders as if to meet and conquerall obstacles as he looked into the glowing west, was not fairerthan his ambitious dreams.
　　Here we will say good-by to these girls and boys of ours as they sittogether in the sunshine talking over a year that was to be for evermemorable to them, not because of any very remarkable events,but because they were just beginning to look about them as theystepped out of childhood into youth, and some of the experiencesof the past months had set them to thinking, taught them to see theuse and beauty of the small duties, joys, and sorrows which makeup our lives, and inspired them to resolve that the coming yearshould be braver and brighter than the last.
　　There are many such boys and girls, full of high hopes, lovelypossibilities, and earnest plans, pausing a moment before theypush their little boats from the safe shore. Let those who launchthem see to it that they have good health to man the oars, goodeducation for ballast, and good principles as pilots to guide themas they voyage down an ever-widening river to the sea.