A BOSTON TEA PARTY
"Is it, think you, because her father is the President of theContinental Congress that Susan Boudinot behaves so?" Abigail whisperedthe question across the aisle of the Dame's school in old Boston to oneof the other little old-time lassies.
"Perhaps that is it. Look at her now. She minds it not in the least thatshe must sit in the dunce's corner. She is smiling with those red lipsand big blue eyes of hers as though she were not in disgrace," the otherlittle girl whispered back.
From other corners of the schoolroom came whispered comments about thewilful little Susan.
"What did Susan do that she was put in the dunce's corner?"
"Indeed she did a great deal to try the good Dame's patience. She tiedthe braids of Mercy Wentworth and Prudence Talbot together so tightlythat when the Dame called upon Mercy to bring her copy book to her toshow its pothooks, Prudence was well nigh dragged too. As if this werenot enough, Susan put sand in the ink and made it so thick as to spoilthe good Dame's copperplate writing."
The school was hushed, though, as the Dame who taught it entered andtook her seat behind the desk, a quaint figure in her black gown, whiteapron, great spectacles and smoothly-parted back hair. All the childrenof these old Colony days, seated in front of her on the hard benches,bent their heads low again over their spellers or slates. Their hair wassmoothly cropped or tightly braided. Only the wayward little girl,perched high upon the dunce's stool, wore her hair in a mass of tangledcurls. They gleamed like gold in the sunshine that filtered in throughthe window. Susan's hair was like her own wilful little self, impatientof bounds and training.
As the Dame had returned to the room Susan's lips had drooped a littleand lost their smile. She cast her eyes toward the toes of her buckledshoes just above which ruffled the dainty white frills of herpantalettes. She crossed her hands demurely in the lap of hershort-waisted, rose-sprigged gown. Presently, though, Susan looked upand glanced out of the school window. There was the green Boston Common,and the white meeting-house, and the brick mansions with their widewhite doorways and brass knockers. Susan could see in fancy as far asthe sea front, where she knew there were British ships at anchor withthe fishing smacks and the merchant vessels of the Colonies.
"THE WAYWARD LITTLE GIRL, PERCHED HIGH UPON THE DUNCE'SSTOOL"]
These were troubled times, as Susan well knew, for the settlers in thenew land. She heard her father speak of the growing discontent of theColonies against the stern rule of the English King, and theirdisinclination to pay taxes on goods when they were allowed norepresentation in Parliament.
Only that morning, as Susan had pouted and frowned when her mother triedto comb out her twisting, tangling curls, there had been the sound ofloud voices in the next room where her father received his businesscallers. Susan's sweet-faced mother had sighed.
"Ah, Susan dear, why do you add to our troubles by being such a wilfullittle lass. Hear you not the voices in the other room? It is the King'scollector, and your father is trying to explain to him that the Congressfeels it especially unjust to be obliged to pay a tax on tea--thatpleasant beverage that is so much drunk at the Boston parties. I knownot how it will all come out, and my heart is aching for the troublethat I feel will come. Be good, dear child. This will help us as you canin no other way."
Susan had thrown her arms about her mother's neck in a burst of love.
"I will be good, dear mother. I will be good," she had exclaimed, for atheart there was no kinder child in all Boston than little Mistress SusanBoudinot. The scene came back to her now and she turned toward herteacher, the Dame, reaching out her slim little arms imploringly. Whatright had she, a little girl, to be naughty when her country was in suchdire peril, she thought?
"I will be good," she said in a burst of penitent tears as the Damemotioned kindly to her to leave the dunce's corner. "I do not know why Iwas moved to tie Mercy and Prudence together by their hair except it waswhat the elder speaks of in meeting as the old Adam coming out of one.And I am sorry indeed about the ink."
"That will do," the Dame said, trying not to smile. "Take your seat,Susan, and write at least ten times, 'Be ye kind to one another,' inyour copy book, and remember to keep it treasured in your mind as wellas on the white pages."
Susan slipped gladly into her place beside Abigail and was soonscratching away with her quill pen as industriously as any of theothers.
School was not out until late in the afternoon, and Susan, surrounded byAbigail and Mercy and Prudence and many of the other little Colonialmaidens, took their merry way through the narrow, brick-paved streets ofold Boston. In their flowered poke bonnets, round silk capes, and fullskirts they looked like a host of blossoms of as many differentcolors--lavender, green, pink, and blue. At the gate of one of the oldmansions not far from the Common, Susan, her curls flying and her cheeksrosy from the warm sea air, waved her hand in good-bye.
"I would invite you all to come in for a game of battledore andshuttlecock in the garden, but my mother was not feeling well when Ileft her this morning and I see her beckoning to me from her window."She darted through the door and up the wide staircase. She found hermother almost in tears.
"There is to be a party at the Royal Governor's house," Madam Boudinotexclaimed, "this very afternoon, and there will be no one to representyour father's family, for I feel far too ill to put on my best dress andgo. Many prominent people will be there representing the Colonists andthe King. Oh, what shall I do!"
Susan considered a moment, at the same time capably fetching thelavender salts for her mother, and putting cloths wet with toilet wateron her aching head. Then she had an idea, for there was much wisdompacked away in the curl-crowned head of nine-year-old Mistress Susan.
"Do you set your mind and heart at rest, dearest mother," she said. "Iwill do my hair up so." Standing in front of an oval, gilt-framedmirror, Susan caught a few of her curls at the back. She pulled them upto the top of her head, and fastened them there with a band of velvet,while the rest hung in a golden shower over her shell pink ears.
"There," Susan exclaimed. "I look as old as a miss of fourteen and I canbe quite as dignified. I will put on my best silk dress, and my silkhose, and my Sunday shoes with the silver buckles." As she spoke, Susanpulled out boxes and opened a chest and drawers. Then she stood in frontof her mother, her arms loaded with finery. She made a quaint littlecurtsey.
"The family of the President of the Continental Congress will berepresented at the Royal Governor's party," she said. "Mistress SusanBoudinot will take the place of Madam Boudinot."
A space of a half-hour later a dignified little lady stepped out of thedoor of the Boudinot mansion and into a waiting chaise. Susan held herhead very high. Was not her hair done up for the first time, and itsmass of ringlets pinned with one of her mother's tortoise-shell combs?Her buff brocade dress was made with a lace underbody. A polonaise anddeep frills of lace edged the elbow-length, close-fitting sleeves andfell as far as the small white hands. A blue locket on a strip of narrowblack velvet ribbon was hung about the little girl's throat, and over itall was thrown a ruffled cape of her mother's lined with fur. As thechaise rattled away toward the Governor's mansion her mother's partingwords to her repeated themselves over and over again in Susan's mind.
"Be a good child, Susan, and do not forget for a moment that you arerepresenting your father and, through him, the Congress."
COLONIAL FURNITURE]
It was a gay scene in which little Mistress Susan soon found herself.The Governor's parlor was very beautiful with its high-backed mahoganychairs and great bowls of roses. A huge sideboard was loaded with cakesand sweets, and the great round table covered with a lace cloth was setwith priceless blue and white china. There was a crowd of people, Whigand Tory. Lovely young ladies of the Colonies in powdered hair and stiffsilks, and young men, their hair worn in powdered queues, mingled gaily.After paying her respects to the wife of the Governor, Susan found acorner where she could sit quietly and watch the party. She was notuns
een, though. Many eyes had noted the dainty charm of the little maidand the sweetness of her tone as she had said, gracefully, to herhostess:
"My mother, Madame Boudinot, sends her respects to the Governor's wifeand regrets that she can not bring them in person. I am the daughter ofMadame Boudinot and my father is the President of the ContinentalCongress."
"And a polite little girl, indeed," the hostess had replied, smiling, asshe turned and presented the little girl to her husband, the RoyalGovernor, and representative of the King.
Many eyes, both Whig and Tory, had been cast at the corner where littleMistress Susan sat demurely.
"The new land has winsome daughters," said an Englishman.
"And plucky ones," retorted an American.
But Susan's eyes were fixed on the goodies that were being brought innow by the servants; great silver trays loaded with confections of allkinds. The blue plates were passed to the guests. Soft glowing candlessent their glimmering light over the tall crystal goblets and bowls offruits. Then Susan saw a silver urn brought in and set upon the table infront of the Governor's wife, who poured the fragrant tea into the bluecups.
"Here is your cup of tea, little Mistress Susan," she said.
Susan took the blue cup in her hand; but, suddenly, its very touchchanged her from the prim little maid she had been before to a smallcreature of rebellion. The amber, steaming tea in the blue cup was, toSusan, one of the marks of her country's lack of independence. Must theColonies pay a tax on tea to the King across the ocean, and still beallowed no representation in Parliament? How, Susan wondered, couldthose other girls of the Colonies, years older than she, sit there soplacidly sipping their tea and seeming to enjoy it so much? Suddenly sherecalled her mother's words:
"Do not forget for a moment that you are representing your father, andthrough him, the Congress."
Susan had made up her mind what she would do. Her girlish spirit ofrebellion that sometimes led her to play such pranks as she had that dayin school suddenly turned to the will power that made the Colonists wintheir fight for freedom in the American Revolution. Susan rose, cup inhand, and took her way across the room, the rustling of her silk skirtscalling the attention of the tea drinkers to her. At an open window shestopped and deliberately tipped her cup, throwing the tea, untasted, onthe grass outside. Then she set the empty cup down upon the table.
At first there was a hush. Then the gentlemen laughed to see the littlegirl, flushed now with confusion, seated on the edge of a high chair andtapping upon the floor with one high-heeled slipper.
"SUSAN DELIBERATELY TIPPED HER CUP, THROWING THE TEA,UNTASTED, ON THE GRASS"]
"The spirit of the Colonies," said the Royal Governor smiling. "Iforesee that we shall have to tame it."
But in spite of his mocking words Susan saw that more than one of theguests who claimed the cause of the Colonies their own set down theirtea and drank no more of it. The first laughter died away. There was athoughtful quiet during the remainder of the party.
Years and years ago it was, but the brave rebellion of little MistressSusan has come down to the children of to-day in story as one of thehelps in the winning for America of her independence.
Boys and Girls of Colonial Days Page 7
