A Little Girl in Old New York

by Amanda M. Douglas

  CHAPTER XIII

  NEW RELATIONS

  New Year's Day was gayer than ever. The streets were full of throngs ofmen in twos up to any number, and carriages went whirling by. There wereno ladies out, of course. Margaret had two of her school friendsreceiving with her, one a beautiful Southern girl whose father was inCongress, and who was staying on in New York, taking what we should calla post-graduate course now, perfecting herself in music and languages.Margaret was a real young lady now. Joe had taken her to severalparties, and there had been quite a grand reception at the Beekmans'.

  The little girl was dressed in her blue cashmere and a dainty whiteSwiss apron ornamented with little bows like butterflies. Miss Butlerthought she was a charming child. She stood by the window a good deal,delighted with the stir and movement in the street, and she looked verypicturesque. Her hair, which was still light, had been curled all roundand tied with a blue ribbon instead of a comb. Her mother said "it wasfoolishness, and they would make the child as vain as a peacock." But Ithink she was rather proud of the sweet, pretty-mannered little girl.

  There was one great diversion for her. About the middle of the afternoontwo gentlemen called for her father. One was quite as old, with ahandsome white beard and iron-gray hair, very stylishly dressed. He worea high-standing collar with points, and what was called a neckcloth ofblack silk with dark-blue brocaded figures running over it, and ahandsome brocaded-velvet vest, double-breasted, the fashion of thetimes, with gilt buttons that looked as if they were set with diamonds,they sparkled so. Over all he had worn a long Spanish circular which hedropped in the hall. The younger man might have been eighteen or twenty.

  Ben was waiting on the door. He announced "Mr. Bounett and Mr. EugeneBounett."

  "We hardly expected to find any of the gentlemen at home," began theelder guest. "We are cousins, in a fashion, and my son has met thedoctor----"

  "Father is at home," said Margaret in the pause. "Hanny, run down-stairsand call him."

  "Miss Underhill, I presume," exclaimed the young man. "I have seen yourbrother quite often of late. And do you know his chum, Phil Hoffman?Doctor, I ought to say," laughingly.

  "Oh, yes," and Margaret colored a little.

  Then her father came up. These were some of the Bounetts from NewRochelle, originally farther back from England and France in the time ofthe Huguenot persecution. Mr. Bounett's father had come to New York ayoung man seventy odd years ago. Mr. Bounett himself had married for hisfirst wife a Miss Vermilye, whose mother had been an Underhill fromWhite Plains. And she was Father Underhill's own cousin. She had beendead more than twenty years, and her children, five living ones, wereall married and settled about, and he had five by his second marriage.This was the eldest son.

  They talked family quite a while, and Mrs. Underhill was summoned. Theyoung man went out in the back parlor where the table stood in itspretty holiday array, and was introduced to Margaret's friends. Theyhunted mottoes, which was often quite amusing, ate candies and almondsand bits of cake while the elder people were talking themselves intorelationship. Eugene explained that his next younger brother was Louis;then a slip of a girl of fifteen and two young cubs completed the secondfamily. But the older brothers and sisters were just like own folks;indeed he thought one sister, Mrs. French, was one of the most charmingwomen he knew, only she did live in the wilds of Williamsburg. Francescawas married in the Livingston family and lived up in Manhattanville.How any one could bear to be out of the city--that meant below TenthStreet--he couldn't see!

  "Is that little fairy your sister?" he asked. "Isn't she lovely!"

  Margaret smiled. She thought Mr. Eugene very flattering. Then the otherscame out, and Mr. Bounett took a cup of black coffee and a very daintysandwich. He left sweets to the young people. And now that they hadbroken the ice, he hoped the Underhills would be social. They, theBounetts, lived over in Hammersley Street, which was really acontinuation of Houston. And they might like to see grandfather, who wasin his ninetieth year and still kept to his old French ways andfashions.

  Miss Butler was very enthusiastic about the callers. "Why, you are quiteFrench," she said, "only _they_ show it in their looks."

  "We have had so much English admixture," and Father Underhill laughedwith a mellow sound. "But I've heard that my great grandmother was auseless fine lady when they came to this country, and had never dressedherself or brushed her hair, and had to have a lady's maid until shedied. She never learned to speak English, or only a few words, but shecould play beautifully on a harp and recite the French poets so wellthat people came from a distance to see her. But her daughters had agreat many other things to learn, and were very smart women. My owngrandmother could spin on the big wheel and the little wheel equal toany girl when she was seventy years old."

  "How delightfully romantic!" cried Miss Butler.

  "There's a big wheel in the garret at Yonkers, and a little wheel, and afunny reel," said Hanny, who was sitting on Miss Butler's lap, "and weused to play the reel was a mill, and make believe we ground corn."

  "I've done many a day's spinning!" exclaimed Mrs. Underhill. "TheHunters raised no end of flax, and we spun the thread for our bed andtable linen. One of our neighbors had a loom and did weaving. Cottongoods were so high we were glad to keep to linen. Ah, well, the world'schanged a deal since my young days."

  They were disturbed by an influx of guests. The fashionable young mencame late in the afternoon and evening. The gilt candelabrum on themantel was lighted up, and it had so many branches and prisms it wasquite brilliant. Then there were sconces at the side of the wall tolight up corners, and these have come around again, since people realizewhat a soft, suggestive light candles give. The Underhills had no gas intheir house, it was esteemed one of the luxuries. Even the outskirts ofthe city streets were still lighted with oil.

  Steve came in and teased the girls and begged them to eat philopenaswith him. He seemed to find so many. And he said the best wish he couldgive them for 1845 was that they might all find a good husband, as goodas he was making, and if they didn't like to take his word they were atliberty to go and ask his wife.

  Quite in the evening the two doctors called, and Joe announced that hewas going to have a Christian supper and a cup of tea, so that he wouldbe able to attend to business to-morrow, as half the city would be illfrom eating all manner of sweet stuff. After he had chaffed the girls awhile he took Doctor Hoffman down-stairs, "out of the crowd," he said,and Mrs. Underhill gave them a cup of delicious tea. She and Martha werekept quite busy with washing dishes and making tea and coffee. Joe hadrequested last year that they should not offer wine to the callers.

  He went out in the kitchen to have a talk with his mother about theBounetts. Dr. Hoffman played with his spoon and would not have anothercup of tea. Mr. Underhill wondered why he did not go up-stairs and havea good time with the girls. They could hear the merry laughter.

  "Mr. Underhill----" he began presently.

  "Eh--what?" said that gentleman, rather amazed at the pause.

  Doctor Hoffman cleared his throat. There was nothing at all in it, thetrouble was a sort of bounding pulsation that interfered with hisbreath, and flushed his face.

  "Mr. Underhill, I have a great favor to ask." He rose and came near sothat he could lower his voice. "I--I admire your daughter extremely. Ishould choose her out of all the world if I could----"

  Father Underhill glanced up in consternation. He wanted to stop theyoung man from uttering another word, but before he could collect hisscattered wits, the young man had said it all.

  "I want permission to visit her, to see--if she cannot like me wellenough to some day take me for a husband. I have really fallen in lovewith her. Joe will tell you all you want to know about me. I'm steady,thank Heaven, and have a start in the world beside my profession. Iwanted you to know what my intentions were, and to give me theopportunity of winning her----"

  "I never once thought----" The father was confused, and the lover nowself-possessed.

  "N
o, I suppose not. Of course, we are both young and do not need to bein a hurry. I wanted the privilege of visiting her."

  "Yes, yes," in embarrassed surprise. "I mean----"

  "Thank you," said the lover, grasping his hand. "I hope to win yourrespect and approval. Joe and I are like brothers already. I admire youall so much."

  Hanny came flying in with pink cheeks and eager eyes.

  "Where is Joe? Margaret wants him--she said I must ask them if theywouldn't please to like to dance a quadrille, and come up-stairs whenthey had finished their tea."

  Joe was sitting astride a chair, tilting it up and down and talking tohis mother.

  "Oh, yes, your royal highness. Phil, if you have finished your tea----"and Joe laughed, inwardly knowing some other business had been concludedas well.

  They had a delightful quadrille. Then Miss Butler sang a fascinatingsong--"The Mocking-Bird." Two of the gentlemen sang several of thepopular airs of the day, and the party broke up. The little girl hadgone to bed some time before, though she declared she wasn't a bittired, and her eyes shone like stars.

  The very next day it snowed, so the ladies could have no day at all.There was sleigh-riding and merry-making of all sorts. One day Dr.Hoffman came and took Margaret and her little sister out in a daintycutter. Then he used to drop in St. Thomas' Church and walk home withher evenings. Father Underhill felt quite guilty in not forewarning hiswife of the conspiracy, but one evening she mistrusted.

  "Margaret is altogether too young to keep company," she declared in anauthoritative way.

  "Margaret is nineteen," said her father. "And you were only twenty whenI married you."

  "That's too young."

  "Seems to me we were far from miserable. As I remember it was a veryhappy year."

  "Don't be silly, 'Milyer. And you're so soft about the children. Youhaven't a bit of sense about them."

  In her heart she knew she would not give up one year of her married lifefor anything the world could offer.

  "Margaret knows no more about housekeeping than a cat," she continued.

  "Well, there's time for her to learn. And perhaps she will not reallylike the young man."

  "She likes him already. 'Milyer, you're blind as a bat."

  "Well, if they like each other--it's the way of the world. It's beengoing on since Adam."

  "It's simply ridiculous to have Margaret perking herself up for beaux."

  "I guess you'll have to let the matter go Hoffman is well connected anda nice young fellow."

  Yes, she had to let the matter go on. She was unnecessarily sharp withMargaret and pretended not to see; she was extremely ceremonious withthe young man at first. She didn't mean to have him coming to tea onSunday evenings, a fashion that still lingered. But Dolly was very goodto the young lovers, and they had so many mutual friends. Then Margaretwas quite shy, she hardly knew what to make of the attentions that wereso reverent and sweet. She couldn't have discussed them with a singlehuman being.

  Mr. and Mrs. Underhill had called on their new cousins in HammersleyStreet. And on Washington's Birthday he took the little girl and Benover.

  The street was still considered in the quality part of the town. The rowwas quite imposing, the stoops being high, the houses three stories anda half, with short windows just below the roof. The railing of the stoopwas very ornate, the work around the front door and the fanlight at thetop being of the old-fashioned decorative sort. They were ushered intothe parlor by a young colored lad.

  It was a very splendid room, the little girl thought, with a high,frescoed ceiling and a heavy cornice of flowers and leaves. The sidewalls were a light gray, but they were nearly covered with pictures.The curtains were a dull blue and what we should call old gold, andswept the floor. There was a mirror from floor to ceiling with anextremely ornamental frame, the top forming a curtain cornice over thewindows. At the end of the room was the same kind of cornice andcurtains, but no glass. The carpet had a great medallion in the centerand all kinds of arabesques and scrolls and flowers about it. Thefurniture was rather odd, divans, chairs, ottomans and queer-lookingtables, and the little girl came to know afterward that two or threepieces had been in the royal palace of Versailles.

  A very sweet, dark-eyed, dark-haired woman came through the curtain.

  "I am Mrs. French," she said, in a soft tone, "and I am very glad to seeyou. Is this the little girl of whom I have heard so much? Be seated,please. Father is out, and he will be very sorry to miss you."

  She dropped on an ottoman and drew the little girl toward her.

  "Let me take off your hat and coat. There are some children who will beglad to see you. Mother will be up in a few moments. Do you know that Ihave been seriously considering a visit to you? Father and Eugene havetalked so much about you."

  "And your grandfather----"

  "He is very well to-day. I was in his room reading to him. He will bepleased you have come."

  Mrs. Bounett came in with her daughter, a rather tall, lanky girl offifteen, very dark, and with a great mop of black hair that was tied atthe back without being braided. She looked as if she had outgrown herdress.

  This was Miss Luella. After a moment she came over to Ben, and asked himwhere he went to school, and if he had any pets. They had a squirrel andsome guinea-pigs and a parrot that could talk everything. Didn't he wantto see them?

  Hanny looked eager as well.

  "Can I take her?" asked Lu.

  "The boys are down-stairs. Don't be rough."

  It was rather dark. Lu caught Hanny in her arms and whisked her down tothe dining-room. The boys were thirteen and eleven, and were playingcheckers on the large dining-table. Everything looked so immensely bigto Hanny. The shelves of the sideboard were full of glass and silver andqueer old blue china; the chairs had great high backs and wereleather-covered.

  "We want to see the guinea-pigs," said Lu. "But I'll take her out to seethe parrots first."

  There was a fat colored woman in the kitchen who suggested Aunt Mary.They went through to a little room under the great back porch, made inthe end of the area.

  There were two parrots and a beautiful white paroquet. Polly was sulky."Mind your business!" was all she would say. Dan soon began to be quitesociable, declaring "He was glad to see them, and would like to havesome grapes."

  "You shut up!" screamed Polly.

  "I'll talk as much as I like."

  "No, you won't. I'll come and choke you."

  "Do if you dare!"

  Then they shrieked at each other with the vigor of fighting cats. Pollyrustled around her cage as if she would be out the next moment. Hannyclung to Lu and was pale with fright.

  "They can't get out. They'd tear each other to pieces when they're mad,and sometimes they're sweet as honey. Pa's going to sell one of them,but we can't decide which must go. Polly talks a lot when she's in themood. I don't know what's ruffled her so. Polly, my pretty Polly, singfor me, and the first time I go out I'll buy you some candy with lots ofpeanuts in it--lots--of--peanuts," lingeringly.

  "Polly sing! Oh, ho! ho! Polly can't sing no more'n a crow," squeakedout Dan.

  "Can too, can too!"

  "Pretty Polly! Polly want a cracker. Polly sing for her dear Dan. Oh,boo hoo!"

  Polly screamed in a tearing rage.

  The young colored lad entered. "Miss Lu, de birds disturb yer gramper.Lemme take Polly. You bad bird, you're goin' in a dungeon."

  With that he whisked Polly off. Dan laughed gleefully. The boys came,and Dan went through his stock accomplishments, much to their delight.

  "But Polly's a sight the funniest," declared Lu. "Only she has such ahorrid temper and it just grows worse. We had a monkey and that got tobe so awful bad. Now let's go and see the guinea-pigs."

  They were up on the top floor. "We had them down cellar," explained oneof the boys, "but some of them died. 'Gene said 'twas too dark anddamp."

  The children trudged up-stairs. There was a pen in a small room whichseemed a receptacle for all sorts of broke
n toys. Ah, how pretty thelittle things were; black-and-yellow-spotted, bright-eyed, andsoft-coated, with a tiny sort of squeak, and tame enough to be caught.Lu offered one to Hanny, but she drew back in half fear. Then theybrought in the squirrel, and he was a handsome fellow with beady eyesand a bushy tail, and when they let him out he ran up on any one'sshoulder.

  "If it was only warm, we'd go out and have a swing. Oh, don't you wanta ride? Here's our horse. We don't care much for it now, though insummer we have it out-of-doors."

  Hanny was speechless with amaze. She had never seen so large a one inthe stores. He was covered with real hair, had a splendid mane and tailand beautiful eyes. His silver-mounted red trappings were extremelygorgeous.

  "He's magnificent!" declared Ben. "Hanny, just try him. Don't be alittle 'fraid-cat!" as she hung back.

  "See here!" Lu sprang on and took an inspiriting gallop. The horseworked with springs and seemed fairly alive. Afterward Hanny venturedand found it exhilarating. Oh, if she could only have one!

  "I suppose it cost a good deal," she questioned timidly.

  Jeffrey laughed. "'Gene picked it up at an auction where people werebeing sold out, and he got it for a song," he said. "But we've outgrownit. I'd like a real pony. I wish pa'd keep a horse."

  "We have two," said the little girl.

  "Pshaw now! you're joking."

  "No," rejoined Ben quietly. "We brought them down from the farm. Fatherand Steve needed them."

  "Do you own a farm, too?" Jeffrey asked in amaze. "Why, you must beall-fired rich!"

  "No, we're not so very rich," said Ben soberly. "Our house in FirstStreet isn't nearly as big and as handsome as this. But we did have abig one in the country. Uncle lives there now, and we have a hundredacres of land."

  "Jiminy!" ejaculated the young boy.

  "Chillen! Chillen, please bring de company down to your gramper."

  "Oh, I'm 'fraid you're going away," said Lu. "You're awful sweet! I justwish I had a little sister. I wish you'd come and stay a week. But Is'pose you'd feel like a cat in a strange garret. I'd be real good toyou, though."

  She caught Hanny in her arms and fairly ran down-stairs with her.

  "You're the littlest mite of a thing! Why, you're never nine years old!You're just like a doll!"

  "Oh, please let me walk," entreated Hanny.

  Their mother stood in the lower hall.

  "You boys go down-stairs or in the parlor. So many children confusegrandpa. Lu, you look too utterly harum-scarum. Do go and brush yourhair."

  Between the parlor and the back room was a space made into a library onone side and some closets on the other. Sliding doors shut this from theback room. This was large, with a splendid, high-post bedstead that hadyellow silk curtains around it, a velvet sofa, and over by the windowsome arm-chairs and a table. And out of one chair rose a curious littleold man, who seemed somehow to have shrunken up, and yet he was agentleman from head to foot. His hair was long and curled at the ends,but it looked like floss silk. His eyes were dark and bright, his facewas wrinkled, and his beard thin. Hanny thought of the old man at theBowling Green who had been in the Bastille. His velvet coat, very muchcut away, was faced with plum-colored satin, his long waistcoat was offlowered damask, his knee-breeches were fastened with silver buckles,and his slippers had much larger ones. There really were some diamondsin them. His shirt frill was crimped in the most beautiful manner, andthe diamond pin sparkled with every turn.

  "This is grandpa," said Mrs. French. "We are all very proud of him thathe has kept his faculties, and we want him to live an even hundredyears."

  The old man smiled and shook his head slowly. He took Hanny's hand, andhis was as soft as a baby's. He said he was very glad to see them both;he and their father had been talking over old times and relationships.

  His voice had a pretty foreign sound. It was a soft, trained voice, butthe accent was discernible.

  "And you were here through the War of the Revolution," said Ben, whohad been counting back.

  "Yes. My father had just died and left nine children. I was the oldest,and there were two girls. So I couldn't be spared to go. The British sosoon took possession of New York. But in 1812 I was free to fight forliberty and the country of my adoption. We were never molested nor badlytreated, but of course we could give no aid to our countrymen. It was along, weary struggle. No one supposed at first the rebels could conquer.And all that is seventy years ago, seventy years."

  He leaned back and looked weary.

  "You must come down some Saturday morning when he feels fresh and hewill tell you all about it," said Mrs. French. "His memory is excellent,but he does get fatigued."

  "I wonder if you ever saw the statue of King George that was in BowlingGreen," Hanny asked, with a little hesitation. "They made bullets ofit."

  "Ah, you know that much?" He smiled and leaned over on the arm of thechair. "Yes, my child. The soldiers met to hear the Declaration ofIndependence read for the first time. Washington was on horseback withhis aides around him. The applause was like a mighty shout from onethroat. Then they rushed to the City Hall and tore the picture of theking from its frame, and then they dragged the statue through thestreets. Yes, its final end was bullets for the rebels, as they werecalled. As my daughter says, come and see me again, and I will tell youall you want to hear. You are a pretty little girl," and he pressedHanny's hand caressingly.

  Then they said good-by to him and went back to the parlor.

  "He always dresses up on holidays," said Mrs. French smilingly, "thoughhe continues to wear the old-fashioned costume. He has had a number ofcalls to-day. People are still interested in the old times. And believeme, I shall take a great deal of pleasure in continuing theacquaintance. You may expect me very soon."

  Luella kissed Hanny with frantic fervor and begged her to come again.She was so used to boys, she cared nothing about Ben.

  The little girl had so much to tell Jim, who had been skating. Thequarrelling parrots, the beautiful house, the queer little guinea-pigs,and the splendid hobby-horse that they didn't seem to care a bit about."And Lu is a good deal like Dele, only not so nice or so funny, and herhair is awful black. She ran down-stairs with me in her arms and I was'most frightened to death. I don't believe I would want to be her littlesister. And the grandpa is like a picture of the old French people. Andto think that he doesn't read English very well and always uses hisFrench Bible. There were so many foreign people in New York at thattime, I s'pose they couldn't all talk English."

  "And they had preaching in Dutch after 1800 in the Middle Dutch Church,"said Jim. "And even after the sermons were in English the singing had tobe in Dutch. Aunt Nancy said the place used to be crowded just to hearthe people sing."

  "It's queer how they could understand each other. Do you suppose thechildren had to learn every language?"

  Jim gave a great laugh at that.