CHAPTER VII.
THE YOUNG WARRIOR MAIDS.
After the entertainment, things went on in their accustomed routine.Winnie, Miriam, Gretta and Fannie became more intimate than ever, andreally tried, in spite of many discouragements, to conquer their badhabits.
For a couple of weeks the little band of "Giant Killers" had had nomeetings, but on the second week after the Washington celebration, thefour girls received a pretty invitation from Winnifred's Aunt Kitty totake tea with her on the following Friday, and to consider themselvesinvited to hold their next meeting at her home, bidding them tell theirmothers that the hostess would see that they arrived home safe notlater than half-past nine. Also, inclosed under cover to Winnie, was aninvitation for Ernestine Alroy, to be delivered only in case the otherthree girls were willing. Upon Winnie's showing this, Fannie was thefirst to propose that not only should the invitation be delivered, butthat Ernestine should be invited to join their society.
The family of Winnie's grandmother was a small one, Mrs. Benton oftensaying, with a sigh, that her children had all left her except Kitty andFred. Whereupon Kitty would take hold of her mother's hand and assureher, in a serio-comic manner, that this daughter she would have everbeside her, "to warn, to comfort, to command." Mrs. Benton was notwealthy, but she had a comfortable income of her own, and as Fredreceived a very good salary in one of the large railroad offices, theyalways had means for the comforts of life and many of its luxuries. Theylived in a suite of rooms in one of the finest apartment houses of thecity.
The "Arlington" was a very large building, and as the girls were notaccustomed to such immense houses, they had arranged with Winnie thatthey should all go together at five o'clock. Accordingly that hour foundthem all standing in the vestibule together, to the manifest amusementof the janitor when he answered Winnie's ring. As Mrs. Benton'sapartment was only one flight up, they did not take the elevator, butWinnie ran lightly up the stairs, the others following more slowly.She knocked at the door at the right of the hall, which was immediatelyopened by Miss Benton, to whom Winnie introduced the other girls, whomore or less timidly put their hands into the outstretched one of thispleasant young lady, but found their timidity vanish almost as if bymagic when they felt her warm, cordial clasp as she drew them into theparlor.
And a very pretty parlor it was, with a quaint individuality of itsown--"just like Kitty Benton herself," as her friends were wont to say.There were no two chairs alike, but they all agreed in one respect--thatof being exceedingly comfortable, from the high-backed willow to the lowchair upholstered in old gold and scarlet tapestry.
On the walls were five or six oil paintings--a couple of marines, andthe others bright, summer landscapes. There was one, which Miss Bentonhad herself painted, entirely different from the others. A cloudy sky,with dim, gray mountains in the distance. In the foreground a singlegrave under a willow, but lying in such vivid sunlight, which came froma break in the clouds, that it had almost a jubilant look for so sada subject, as most people would have deemed it. On a low shelf stooda beautifully engraved Madonna, and on a table near was a portfolio offine etchings. About the room were bits of bric-a-brac of various kinds,among them a piece of genuine old Wedgwood. On the upright piano stood atall vase of Easter lilies.
Miss Benton, having helped her young visitors to divest themselves oftheir wraps, seated them close to the open fire, and then took down theetchings to show them. These, however, proved a little beyond them, soshe took from the table a stereoscope and some views, every one of whichhad been collected by her mother or herself during their various trips,and about each one she told some incident, amusing or pathetic, so thatan hour had passed away almost before the girls knew it.
Fred had been requested by his sister to take his supper downtown,as she felt that the girls would feel more at their ease without hispresence. When the bright-faced maid announced supper, Miss Benton tookGretta by the hand, and said, as they all entered the dining-room, "'Weare seven,' and, I presume, if Wordsworth were here, he would write apoem about us."
As the five friends took their places, they simultaneously burst into anexclamation of delight. At each of their places was a bunch of flowers,with a card on which was a pretty little painting in water-colors of ayoung girl, with fair hair streaming over her shoulders, in full armor,receiving from an angel a sword. Underneath were the words in oldEnglish text, in scarlet and gold, "He that overcometh shall inherit allthings."
The cards were exactly alike, but the flowers were different. Miriam hada glorious red rose, with buds and leaves; Gretta, garden daisiesand primroses; Fannie, scarlet geraniums, a calla lily and a wildjack-in-the-pulpit; Ernestine, lilies of the valley; Winnie, fernsand mignonette. Mrs. Benton lifted caressingly to her face a bunch ofEnglish violets, and their hostess pinned on her bodice a cluster ofyellow rosebuds.
"Oh, Aunt Kitty, what a hunt you must have had among the florists andmarkets for all these flowers!" said Winnie.
"And how well you have suited us all!" cried Miriam.
"What is this, Miss Benton?" asked Fannie, holding up thejack-in-the-pulpit.
"That is a wild-flower," replied Miss Benton, giving the blossom itsname, "which was sent me from Tennessee this week; it does not bloomquite so early here. If you will examine it and compare it with yourcalla, you will see many points of resemblance; indeed, they are of thesame family, although the splendid Egyptian calla has all the advantagesof climate, water and sun, which make it the handsome thing it is. Butour little American Jack, all the same, lifts its head out of its greenpulpit and preaches to us of the eternal kinship of all things. Put yourgeraniums in your button hole, and after tea I'll put your calla and itscountry cousin in water for you to keep fresh till you go home."
"How did you know I was fond of lilies of the valley, Miss Benton?"asked Ernestine. "It is my mother's favorite flower, too; she says theyused to grow in great clumps in the yard of her home when she was agirl, and she never sees one without thinking of her childhood."
"Of course I couldn't know that, my dear; I only thought that you wouldlike them. Although I had never met any of you I have heard Winnifredtalk about you, and her little tongue sometimes gives me queer ideas,"said Miss Benton, smiling at her niece with an air of good comradeship.
"Mother, let Winnie serve the chocolate, while I attend to this end ofthe table. You see, girls, we only have the maid bring in the dishesfrom the kitchen, for we like to wait on each other," she said, helpingthem to chicken croquettes, cold ham, and delicious muffins, as Winniepassed around the chocolate in dainty china cups.
How they all enjoyed that supper! They were just like girls in a book,Miriam said. Everything seemed so different from ordinary occasions.Even the orange jelly tasted so much better than at other times, becauseof the orange baskets in which it was served. They sat at the tablea long time, for both Mrs. Benton and her daughter encouraged theirvisitors to talk; and while they were eating their candy and nuts, theyplayed the game of rhymes and "yes and no."
Then Miss Kitty sent them into the parlor with her mother, excusingherself and Winnie for a few moments. When they entered the parlor, theyfound Mrs. Benton with her silk socks in her hands, knitting as rapidlyas she was talking. She was giving them an account of the old turkeygobbler that used to chase her when she was a little girl, and they wereall laughing heartily.
This anecdote led to Miriam's giving an account of a goat which one ofher aunt's friends had presented to her little boy, and which was theterror of the neighborhood.
"My aunt and I," said Miriam, "were making an afternoon visit at Mrs.Kincaid's, and, as it was warm and pleasant, we were invited into theyard to look at the flowers. My aunt was very enthusiastically admiringa fine Yucca which, for a wonder, was in bloom, when the goat was seenpeering through a gap in the fence which divided the front from the backyard.
"Mrs. Kincaid immediately took to her heels, and I was about to follow,when Aunt Jennie said, 'Miriam, I am surprised that you should be afraidof a goa
t. Even if he were to come near you, you would only have toseize him by the horns; it is the easiest thing in the world to conquera goat.'
"By this time Mrs. Kincaid was safe in the house, tapping loudly on thewindow, from which she was viewing the scene, for us to come in, and'dancing crazy' (as the girls say about things), because we were stilloutside.
"My aunt was walking in a leisurely and dignified manner toward thehouse, holding her head a little higher than usual, and I was followingvery meekly for me--for I hate to be thought a coward--when the goatgave a sudden bound, broke another picket in the fence, and wentstraight toward her with his head down, and his bob tail switching.
"Well, Aunt Jennie did turn and face him, and she really did take thevicious little beast by the horns. But was he conquered? You wouldn'thave thought so, had you been there; he just raised himself on his hindlegs and shook himself loose. Aunt Jennie suddenly dropped her dignity,and flew, rather than ran, toward the house, the goat after her, andshe just escaped him by Mrs. Kincaid's pulling her inside the door andslamming it shut.
"As for me, I went through the hole in the fence to the back yard,rushed pell-mell into the kitchen door, without stopping to knock, anddropped into the nearest chair, where I sat and laughed till the tearsran down my cheeks, to the astonishment of the kitchen girl and thewasherwoman, who were enjoying a cup of tea.
"I was wicked enough to laugh afterward, for Aunt Jennie did not lectureon courage or dignity for a month after that, and I notice now that whenwe pass a livery stable she keeps a quiet but effective lookout for 'thehorned monarch of the livery stable,' as I once heard him called."
"Well, I'm afraid of goats myself," said Miss Kitty, "and I think thereought to be a law against their being allowed inside the city limits.What with the small boy who torments the goat, and the goat which cannotdistinguish between his tormentor and any other member of the humanrace, every passer-by is certain of being made ridiculous, if nothingmore serious occurs. But to change the subject, would you younggiant-killers like to hear a story that I have written for you?"
Of course they were delighted, and, the softly-shaded lamp havingbeen adjusted, and Mrs. Benton seated so that the light fell upon herknitting, Miss Benton took her seat at the other side of the table, andread the following allegory:
GIANT PROCRASTINATION.
Stretching off far as the eye can reach, lies a vast plain, intersectedby many roads of various widths, from the narrowest foot-path to thosewide enough for three or four vehicles to pass abreast. Pleasant roadsthey seem to be, too; wild-flowers of brilliant hues grow along theirsides, birds of beautiful plumage twitter their varied notes, and prettylittle squirrels and rabbits dart here and there. But when the sauntereralong one of these by-paths plucks the blossoms, they fall to piecesin his hands, and, on near approach, the birds circle for a few momentsabout the head, and then fly away and are seen no more.
These by-ways continually lead into and cross one another, but all atlast meet in one broad road, and this is the road of "By and By," whichleads to the castle of "Never." This castle stands at the entrance toa dark and gloomy forest, through which no path has ever been cut,and which is so dense and wild that one draws back in fear, finding itimpossible not to think of it as inhabited by beasts and serpents andinsects as wild and poisonous as those which infest the South Americanforests or the jungles of India.
At the right and left of the castle rise huge cliffs unscaled by mortalfoot during the lifetime of the present owner, and seldom attempted evenduring the ages gone by, when his ancestors, in a more or less directline, held high orgies, while with demoniac laughter they tortured theirvictims.
The present owner and occupant of the castle is a giant, so skilled inthe art of metamorphosis that he is constantly deceiving and deludinghis victims, each of whom he approaches in a different manner. With somehe wears an air of haughty though courteous dignity, and gives them fairand sweet promises of granting their every desire as soon as his plansare perfected and he is ready. With others, he puts on a smiling, joyouslook, points out to them the birds and flowers along the roadside,and tells them that to-morrow all these pleasures shall be theirs. Adifferent face and garb for every deluded follower, who ever ends inbecoming his victim; for, just at the entrance to the castle, stillcovered by the seemingly fair flowers, is a frightful morass, out ofwhich the wanderer is helped only by the giant himself, and taken by himthence into the castle, from which there is no escape.
The dreadful Castle of Never! And yet, how fair it looks to those whostand just outside its gates! Its battlemented towers, decorated withflags and banners floating gayly in the air, its many windows, catchingand reflecting every ray of sunlight, its majestic proportions, make itseem a dwelling much to be desired. And either because it is enchanted,or from some strange property of the surrounding atmosphere, it oftenappears to be raised high in the air, so that at a very great distanceit shows larger, if less distinct, than when viewed near by.
It is early morning. The sun himself has not yet risen, although hisapproach is heralded by lovely green and rose tints on the easternhorizon. The great Giant Procrastination lies stretched upon his hugebed, dreaming uneasily, for he groans and starts many times, but stillsleeps on. The inside of the far-famed castle shows not so fair as theoutside. There are many things lying about on tables and chairs, ortucked away under articles of larger furniture; some of them are pretty,some elegant, but all unfinished.
The morning wind, rising as if it, too, had lain asleep during thenight, shrieks and whistles as if in wrath, or moans and sighs as thoughin mortal anguish. And hush! What other sound is that which rises abovethe roar of the wind and fills one's soul with terror? Alas! it is theshrieks of despair from the prisoners in the dungeon, and one hears,mingled with their groans, the dreadful words, "Too late! Too late!"
But who are these descending the heretofore unscaled cliff? And howcomes it that thus unguided they have escaped the dangers of the forest,and that, now stealing upon their sleeping foe from the unguarded rear,they are not dashed into pieces as they make the steep and terribledescent? Ah! they have an invisible Guide, who goes before and smoothsevery difficulty; and their feet are shod with a divine determinationwhich leads them securely over the most dangerous places.
And yet they move with caution. Clinging now to the bushes that growalong the cliff, now stepping carefully on some jutting crag, they comeone by one. Now they have reached the bottom, and stop a moment to takebreath and consult as to the next movement. For behold! five littlemaidens, scarcely in their teens, have come to give battle to one of thestrongest enemies of mankind, and to attack him in his own stronghold.Brave as they are, however, and resolutely as they have nervedthemselves to the task ahead of them, they cannot repress a shudder asthey gaze upon the frowning mass before them. For, never dreaming ofattack in the rear, the giant's ancestors had taken no pains to makethat part of the castle beautiful or to endow it with the enchantment ofillusion, so all is dark and strong and terrible.
Regaining courage, the five young warriors kneel upon the rocky path andask their invisible Guide for succor and strength. They rise encouragedand hopeful, and each assists the other to readjust her armor. Wonderfularmor! light to wear, but stronger than mailed steel.
They advance to the heavy door. It is all unguarded, and even standspartly open, so that all their strength is saved to them for the combat.One by one, and noiselessly, they climb the iron stairs, and, guidedby his snores, they find themselves at last in the presence of theirsleeping enemy.
If they can but strike now! One blow from either of their swords, andhe would lie slain before them. But alas! they hesitate for one shortmoment, and in that brief space of time the wind bangs a heavy shutteragainst the iron casement, and, at its fearful clang, the giant awakesand rises to his feet. He stares about him for a moment, stupefied, butthere is no mistaking the fact that he is in the presence of an enemy;for their armor, their uplifted swords, their resolute mien, allproclaim their errand to be
one of war. Then, gazing upon theirdiminutive forms, he laughs a horrid, blood-curdling laugh, as he gloatsover the prospect that he will soon have five more victims to languishin his dungeons.
He springs forward to seize the foremost of his youthful foes, but herfear has vanished. Raising her shield for protection, she strikeswith her sword, and the giant receives a fearful gash in the handoutstretched to grasp her, and starts back, howling with pain. The fivegirls close around him at once, but so immense of stature is he, thatthey soon perceive it will be impossible for them to reach a vital partunless he can be thrown.
Fast and furious they rain the blows upon him, and not in vain. Hehas no armor on, his usual weapons are beyond his reach, and he knowsinstinctively that his usual powers of metamorphosis are useless. Oneblow, at last, inflicts a ghastly wound in his ankle; he clutches atthe bed for support, but misses it, and falls, groaning heavily, at fulllength on the floor, where, taken at a disadvantage, a sword is thrustinto his heart, and with horrid struggles he dies.
The maiden warriors embrace each other joyfully, and, kneeling togetherin that moment of victory, give all the praise and glory to thatinvisible Power which has enabled them, weak girls as they are, toconquer.
But their work is not yet done. Taking the keys from under the pillowof the dead monster, they pass down a winding staircase, until they findthemselves so far beneath the surface of the earth, that not a ray oflight shines over their pathway.
One of them lights a tiny lamp which she has brought with her, and theyproceed. At length they reach the foot of the stairs and find themselvesin a dark, narrow passage, with many windings and turnings. Along thisthey proceed carefully, until they stand before the massive doors ofthe dungeon. Trying one key after another, they find one that turns thelock, and the door swings open. What a sight meets their sorrowful gaze!Bones--human bones--lie scattered everywhere, and, as they become moreaccustomed to the darkness, they distinguish human forms still living,with haggard faces, and despair written on every feature.
"Your enemy is dead!" say the maidens. "We have come to set you free,and then we are going to burn the castle, for thus has our Guidecommanded us."
As they all stand once more in the glad sunlight, they set fire to themighty structure, and see the leaping, victorious flames devour it, evento the flags and banners which had so short a time before streamed gaylyfrom its towers.
"Thank you, Aunt Kitty," said Winnifred, as Miss Benton laid down themanuscript. "I don't see how you ever thought of all that."
"Well, Winnie, we all know that the idea is taken from the book you haverecently been reading, but where no pretense is made to originality,imitation is not deception."
"But do you really think, Miss Benton," said Ernestine, raising hereyes, "that we can so completely conquer our faults?"
"Alas, no! I'm afraid we never can completely conquer them, but bystriving constantly we can strike many a blow, each one of which leavesthe enemy weaker, and ourselves stronger. The great pity of it all is,that we can kill only our own giants, and destroy their strongholds forourselves; we can never do it for others, dearly as we may love them."
"Well," said Fannie, in her decided manner, "I wish that Procrastinationwere the only giant to fight; but I have some enemies which arestill harder for me to conquer;" and she blushed slightly, as sheinvoluntarily glanced toward Ernestine.
"It is a great gain, however," said Mrs. Benton, pausing in herknitting, "when we have learned to do that which must be done, withoutunnecessary delay. Procrastination, it is quite true, is the leastvicious and the least malicious of all the faults; but stronger, almost,than any other, and holding more people, young and old, under itscontrol. If this be overcome, the struggle with the others grows easier.Indeed, it is surprising how many little misdeeds are the outcome ofthat one fault. Untidiness, fits of temper, disobedience, prevarication,and sometimes even downright untruth, might often be avoided if thingswere done in time."
"But it is hard always to remember," sighed Miriam. "Ernestine, how doyou keep from forgetting?"
"Oh, I forget oftener than you know," said Ernestine, flushing underher delicate skin; "but I have had mamma to think of, and have tried toplease her and make her happy; then, too, I had a nurse in Louisiana whotaught me to remember that there is One 'who is a very present help intime of trouble.'"
"That is the best help of all, girls, and one that you can carry withyou always. I find mottoes and texts a great help, too, when I wantto succeed in any one particular thing. How would it do, at your nextmeeting, for each one to contribute a text from the Bible, and, ifpossible, a quotation from one of the poets, applicable to this samewheedling fault?" said Miss Benton.
"I should like that very much," replied Ernestine.
"So would I!" "And I!" "And I!" replied Miriam, Fannie and Winnie.
Gretta only was silent, but Miss Kitty judged it best to pass hersilence by without remark.
At this moment, Mr. Fred Benton entered the parlor and was introduced tothe girls, and very soon they were all escorted to their homes by theirfriend's uncle, who proved himself as good an entertainer of theselittle women as was his sister.
The Girl Warriors: A Book for Girls Page 7
