"Will you forgive that, too?" he asked, in a whisper, stroking the red wrist.
"Yes, it don't hurt much now." And Polly drew her hand away, sorry he had seen it.
"I was a beast, that 's what I was!" said Tom, in a tone of great disgust. And just at that awkward minute down tumbled his father's old beaver over his head and face, putting a comical quencher on his self-reproaches. Of course, neither could help laughing at that; and when he emerged, Polly was sitting up, looking as much better for her shower as he did for his momentary eclipse.
"Fan feels dreadfully. Will you kiss and be friends, if I trot her down?" asked Tom, remembering his fellow-sinner.
"I 'll go to her." And Polly whisked out of the closet as suddenly as she had whisked in, leaving Tom sitting on the boot-jack, with a radiant countenance.
How the girls made it up no one ever knew. But after much talking and crying, kissing and laughing, the breach was healed, and peace declared. A slight haze still lingered in the air after the storm, for Fanny was very humble and tender that evening; Tom a trifle pensive, but distressingly polite, and Polly magnanimously friendly to every one; for generous natures like to forgive, and Polly enjoyed the petting after the insult, like a very human girl.
As she was brushing her hair at bedtime there came a tap on her door and, opening it, she beheld nothing but a tall black bottle, with a strip of red flannel tied round it like a cravat, and a cocked-hat note on the cork. Inside were these lines, written in a sprawling hand with very black ink:
DEAR POLLY, Opydilldock is first-rate for sprains. You put a lot on the flannel and do up your wrist, and I guess it will be all right in the morning. Will you come a sleigh-ride tomorrow? I 'm awful sorry I hurt you.
TOM
6. Grandma
WHERE 'S Polly?" asked Fan one snowy afternoon, as she came into the dining-room where Tom was reposing on the sofa with his boots in the air, absorbed in one of those delightful books in which boys are cast away on desert islands, where every known fruit, vegetable and flower is in its prime all the year round; or, lost in boundless forests, where the young heroes have thrilling adventures, kill impossible beasts, and, when the author's invention gives out, suddenly find their way home, laden with tiger skins, tame buffaloes and other pleasing trophies of their prowess.
"Dun no," was Tom's brief reply, for he was just escaping from an alligator of the largest size.
"Do put down that stupid book, and let 's do something," said Fanny, after a listless stroll round the room.
"Hi, they 've got him!" was the only answer vouchsafed by the absorbed reader.
"Where 's Polly?" asked Maud, joining the party with her hands full of paper dolls all suffering for ball-dresses.
"Do get along, and don't bother me," cried Tom exasperated at the interruption.
"Then tell us where she is. I 'm sure you know, for she was down here a little while ago,"
said Fanny.
"Up in grandma's room, maybe."
"Provoking thing! you knew it all the time, and did n't tell, just to plague us," scolded Maud.
But Tom was now under water stabbing his alligator, and took no notice of the indignant departure of the young ladies.
"Polly 's always poking up in grandma's room. I don't see what fun there is in it," said Fanny as they went up stairs.
"Polly 's a verwy queer girl, and gwandma pets her a gweat deal more than she does me," observed Maud, with an injured air.
"Let 's peek and see what they are doing," whispered Fan, pausing at the half-open door.
Grandma was sitting before a quaint old cabinet, the doors of which stood wide open, showing glimpses of the faded relics treasured there. On a stool, at the old lady's feet, sat Polly, looking up with intent face and eager eyes, quite absorbed in the history of a high-heeled brocade shoe which lay in her lap.
"Well, my dear," grandma was saying, "she had it on the very day that Uncle Joe came in as she sat at work, and said, 'Dolly, we must be married at once.' 'Very well, Joe,'
says Aunt Dolly, and down she went to the parlor, where the minister was waiting, never stopping to change the dimity dress she wore, and was actually married with her scissors and pin-ball at her side, and her thimble on. That was in war times, 1812, my dear, and Uncle Joe was in the army, so he had to go, and he took that very little pin-ball with him. Here it is with the mark of a bullet through it, for he always said his Dolly's cushion saved his life."
"How interesting that is!" cried Polly, as she examined the faded cushion with the hole in it.
"Why, grandma, you never told me that story," said Fanny, hurrying in, finding the prospect was a pleasant one for a stormy afternoon.
"You never asked me to tell you anything, my dear, so I kept my old stories to myself,"
answered grandma, quietly.
"Tell some now, please. May we stay and see the funny things?" said Fan and Maud, eyeing the open cabinet with interest.
"If Polly likes; she is my company, and I am trying to entertain her, for I love to have her come," said grandma, with her old-time politeness.
"Oh, yes! do let them stay and hear the stories. I 've often told them what good times we have up here, and teased them to come, but they think it 's too quiet. Now, sit down, girls, and let grandma go on. You see I pick out something in the cabinet that looks interesting, and then she tells me about it," said Polly, eager to include the girls in her pleasures, and glad to get them interested in grandma's reminiscences, for Polly knew how happy it made the lonely old lady to live over her past, and to have the children round her.
"Here are three drawers that have not been opened yet; each take one, and choose something from it for me to tell about," said Madam, quite excited at the unusual interest in her treasures.
So the girls each opened a drawer and turned over the contents till they found something they wanted to know about. Maud was ready first, and holding up an oddly shaped linen bag, with a big blue F embroidered on it, demanded her story. Grandma smiled as she smoothed the old thing tenderly, and began her story with evident pleasure.
"My sister Nelly and I went to visit an aunt of ours, when we were little girls, but we did n't have a very good time, for she was extremely strict. One afternoon, when she had gone out to tea, and old Debby, the maid, was asleep in her room, we sat on the doorstep, feeling homesick, and ready for any thing to amuse us.
" 'What shall we do?' said Nelly.
"Just as she spoke, a ripe plum dropped bounce on the grass before us, as if answering her question. It was all the plum's fault, for if it had n't fallen at that minute, I never should have had the thought which popped into my mischievous mind.
" 'Let 's have as many as we want, and plague Aunt Betsey, to pay her for being so cross,' I said, giving Nelly half the great purple plum.
" 'It would be dreadful naughty,' began Nelly, 'but I guess we will,' she added, as the sweet mouthful slipped down her throat.
" 'Debby 's asleep. Come on, then, and help me shake,' I said, getting up, eager for the fun.
"We shook and shook till we got red in the face, but not one dropped, for the tree was large, and our little arms were not strong enough to stir the boughs. Then we threw stones, but only one green and one half-ripe one came down, and my last stone broke the shed window, so there was an end of that.
" 'It 's as provoking as Aunt Betsey herself,' said Nelly, as we sat down, out of breath.
" 'I wish the wind would come and blow 'em down for us,' panted I, staring up at the plums with longing eyes.
" 'If wishing would do any good, I should wish 'em in my lap at once,' added Nelly.
" 'You might as well wish 'em in your mouth and done with it, if you are too lazy to pick
'em up. If the ladder was n't too heavy we could try that,' said I, determined to have them.
" 'You know we can't stir it, so what is the use of talking about it? You proposed getting the plums, now let 's see you do it,' answered Nelly, rather crossly, for she had bit
ten the green plum, and it puckered her mouth.
" 'Wait a minute, and you will see me do it,' cried I, as a new thought came into my naughty head.
" 'What are you taking your shoes and socks off for? You can't climb the tree, Fan.' "
'Don't ask questions, but be ready to pick 'em up when they fall, Miss Lazybones.' "With this mysterious speech I pattered into the house bare-footed and full of my plan. Up stairs I went to a window opening on the shed roof. Out I got, and creeping carefully along till I came near the tree, I stood up, and suddenly crowed like the little rooster.
Nelly looked up, and stared, and laughed, and clapped her hands when she saw what I was going to do.
" 'I 'm afraid you 'll slip and get hurt.' " 'Don't care if I do; I 'll have those plums if I break my neck doing it,' and half sliding, half walking I went down the sloping roof, till the boughs of the tree were within my reach.
"Hurrah!" cried Nelly, dancing down below, as my first shake sent a dozen plums rattling round her.
"'Hurrah!" cried I, letting go one branch and trying to reach another. But as I did so my foot slipped, I tried to catch something to hold by, but found nothing, and with a cry, down I fell, like a very big plum on the grass below.
"Fortunately the shed was low, the grass was thick and the tree broke my fall, but I got a bad bump and a terrible shaking. Nelly thought I was killed, and began to cry with her mouth full. But I picked myself up in a minute, for I was used to such tumbles; and did n't mind the pain half as much as the loss of the plums.
" 'Hush! Debby will hear and spoil all the fun. I said I 'd get 'em and I have. See what lots have come down with me.' "So there had, for my fall shook the tree almost as much as it did me, and the green and purple fruit lay all about us.
"By the time the bump on my forehead had swelled as big as a nut, our aprons were half full, and we sat down to enjoy ourselves. But we did n't. O dear, no! for many of the plums were not ripe, some were hurt by the birds, some crushed in falling, and many as hard as stones. Nelly got stung by a wasp, my head began to ache, and we sat looking at one another rather dismally, when Nelly had a bright idea.
" 'Let 's cook 'em, then they 'll be good, and we can put some away in our little pails for to-morrow.' " 'That will be splendid! There 's a fire in the kitchen, Debby always leaves the kettle on, and we can use her saucepan, and I know where the sugar is, and we 'll have a grand time.' "In we went, and fell to work very quietly. It was a large, open fire-place, with the coals nicely covered up, and the big kettle simmering on the hook. We raked open the fire, put on the saucepan, and in it the best of our plums, with water enough to spoil them. But we did n't know that, and felt very important as we sat waiting for it to boil, each armed with a big spoon, while the sugar box stood between us ready to be used.
"How slow they were, to be sure! I never knew such obstinate things, for they would n't soften, though they danced about in the boiling water, and bobbed against the cover as if they were doing their best.
"The sun began to get low, we were afraid Debby would come down, and still those dreadful plums would n't look like sauce. At last they began to burst, the water got a lovely purple, we put lots of sugar in, and kept tasting till our aprons and faces were red, and our lips burnt with the hot spoons.
"'There 's too much juice,' said Nelly, shaking her head wisely. 'It ought to be thick and nice like mamma's.' "'I 'll pour off some of the juice, and we can drink it,' said I, feeling that I 'd made a mistake in my cooking.
"So Nelly got a bowl, and I got a towel and lifted the big saucepan carefully off. It was heavy and hot, and I was a little afraid of it, but did n't like to say so. Just as I began to pour, Debby suddenly called from the top of the stairs, 'Children, what under the sun are you doing?' "It startled us both. Nelly dropped the bowl and ran. I dropped the saucepan and did n't run, for a part of the hot juice splashed upon my bare feet, and ankles, and made me scream with dreadful pain.
"Down rushed Debby to find me dancing about the kitchen with a great bump on my forehead, a big spoon in my hand, and a pair of bright purple feet. The plums were lying all over the hearth, the saucepan in the middle of the room, the basin was broken, and the sugar swimming about as if the bowl had turned itself over trying to sweeten our mess for us.
"Debby was very good to me, for she never stopped to scold, but laid me down on the old sofa, and bound up my poor little feet with oil and cotton wool. Nelly, seeing me lie white and weak, thought I was dying, and went over to the neighbor's for Aunt Betsey, and burst in upon the old ladies sitting primly at, their tea, crying, distractedly, " 'Oh, Aunt Betsey, come quick! for the saucepan fell off the shed, and Fan's feet are all boiled purple!' "Nobody laughed at this funny message, and Aunt Betsey ran all the way home with a muffin in her hand and her ball in her pocket, though the knitting was left behind.
"I suffered a great deal, but I was n't sorry afterward, for I learned to love Aunt Betsey, who nursed me tenderly, and seemed to forget her strict ways in her anxiety for me.
"This bag was made for my special comfort, and hung on the sofa where I lay all those weary days. Aunt kept it full of pretty patchwork or, what I liked better, ginger-nuts, and peppermint drops, to amuse me, though she did n't approve of cosseting children up, any more than I do now."
"I like that vewy well, and I wish I could have been there," was Maud's condescending remark, as she put back the little bag, after a careful peep inside, as if she hoped to find an ancient ginger-nut, or a well-preserved peppermint drop still lingering in some corner.
"We had plums enough that autumn, but did n't seem to care much about them, after all, for our prank became a household joke, and, for years, we never saw the fruit, but Nelly would look at me with a funny face, and whisper, 'Purple stockings, Fan!' "
"Thank you, ma'am," said Polly. "Now, Fan, your turn next."
"Well, I 've a bundle of old letters, and I 'd like to know if there is any story about them,"
answered Fanny, hoping some romance might be forthcoming.
Grandma turned over the little packet tied up with a faded pink ribbon; a dozen yellow notes written on rough, thick paper, with red wafers still adhering to the folds, showing plainly that they were written before the day of initial note-paper and self-sealing envelopes.
"They are not love-letters, deary, but notes from my mates after I left Miss Cotton's boarding-school. I don't think there is any story about them," and grandma turned them over with spectacles before the dim eyes, so young and bright when they first read the very same notes.
Fanny was about to say, "I 'll choose again," when grandma began to laugh so heartily that the girls felt sure she had caught some merry old memory which would amuse them.
"Bless my heart, I have n't thought of that frolic this forty years. Poor, dear, giddy Sally Pomroy, and she 's a great-grandmother now!" cried the old lady, after reading one of the notes, and clearing the mist off her glasses.
"Now, please tell about her; I know it 's something funny to make you laugh so," said Polly and Fan together.
"Well, it was droll, and I 'm glad I remembered it for it 's just the story to tell you young things.
"It was years ago," began grandma, briskly, "and teachers were very much stricter than they are now. The girls at Miss Cotton's were not allowed lights in their rooms after nine o'clock, never went out alone, and were expected to behave like models of propriety from morning till night.
"As you may imagine, ten young girls, full of spirits and fun, found these rules hard to keep, and made up for good behavior in public by all sorts of frolics in private.
"Miss Cotton and her brother sat in the back parlor after school was over, and the young ladies were sent to bed. Mr. John was very deaf, and Miss Priscilla very near-sighted, two convenient afflictions for the girls on some occasions, but once they proved quite the reverse, as you shall hear.
"We had been very prim for a week, and our bottled up spirits could no longer be contained; so we planed a revel
after our own hearts, and set our wits to work to execute it.
"The first obstacle was surmounted in this way. As none of us could get out alone, we resolved to lower Sally from the window, for she was light and small, and very smart.
"With our combined pocket-money she was to buy nuts and candy, cake and fruit, pie, and a candle, so that we might have a light, after Betsey took ours away as usual. "We were to darken the window of the inner chamber, set a watch in the little entry, light up, and then for a good time.
"At eight o'clock on the appointed evening, several of us professed great weariness, and went to our room, leaving the rest sewing virtuously with Miss Cotton, who read Hannah More's Sacred Dramas aloud, in a way that fitted the listeners for bed as well as a dose of opium would have done.
"I am sorry to say I was one of the ringleaders; and as soon as we got up stairs, produced the rope provided for the purpose, and invited Sally to be lowered. It was an old-fashioned house, sloping down behind, and the closet window chosen by us was not many feet from the ground.
"It was a summer evening, so that at eight o'clock it was still light; but we were not afraid of being seen, for the street was a lonely one, and our only neighbors two old ladies, who put down their curtains at sunset, and never looked out till morning.
"Sally had been bribed by promises of as many 'goodies' as she could eat, and being a regular madcap, she was ready for anything.
"Tying the rope round her waist she crept out, and we let her safely down, sent a big basket after her, and saw her slip round the comer in my big sun bonnet and another girl's shawl, so that she should not be recognized.
"Then we put our night-gowns over our dresses, and were laid peacefully in bed when Betsey came up, earlier than usual; for it was evident that Miss Cotton felt a little suspicious at our sudden weariness.
An Old-Fashioned Girl Page 8
