Nelly's Silver Mine: A Story of Colorado Life

by Helen Hunt Jackson

  CHAPTER XV

  CHANGES IN PROSPECT

  I could not tell you one-half of the pleasant things that happenedin the course of the next month to Rob and Nelly. They had such goodtimes that they hardly ever thought of their disappointment aboutthe mine. And even Mr. and Mrs. March thought less and less about itevery day, they were so much interested in talking with Mr. and Mrs.Cook. Mr. March and Mr. Cook became good friends very soon. Mr. Cookwould often work all day long in the fields with Mr. March. He saidit made him feel as if he were a boy again, on his father's farm.The days that Rob and Nelly went to Rosita were very long days toArthur. He was so lonely that Mrs. Cook proposed to her husband oneday that they should let Thomas, the driver, take the children uptown in the carriage, and bring them right back again.

  "They need not be gone more than two hours in all," she said. "It isthat tiresome walk that takes so long."

  But Mr. Cook was too wise to do this.

  "That would not be any true kindness to the children," he said. "Itis much better that they should keep on with the regular routine oftheir life, just as they did before. If they were to have thecarriage to take them up to town for a month, it would only make thewalk seem very long and hard to them after we are gone. We will givethem all the pleasure we can, without altering their way of living."

  "The mere fact of our being here alters their whole life," said Mrs.Cook. "They have now constant companionship, and a variety ofamusements and interests, in Arthur's toys and books, which are allnew to them. Before we came, they had solitude, absolutely noamusements, and no occupation except hard work. Nelly told me theother day that she had read every book in their house, twice over."

  "There are not very many books," said Mr. Cook: "I don't know howMarch comes to have so few."

  "Oh, they had to sell ever so many last summer: Mrs. March told meso," replied Mrs. Cook.

  "By Jove! did they?" exclaimed Mr. Cook. "That was too bad. I wonderif March would take it amiss if I sent him out a box of books thisautumn."

  "I don't know," Mrs. Cook said thoughtfully. "They haven't aparticle of false pride, about their work, or selling things, or anything of that kind; but I doubt their liking presents. They are veryindependent."

  The weeks slipped by as if they weren't more than three days long.Rob and Nelly got up before daylight every morning, so as to hurrythrough their work and go down to the tents,--down to "Arthur's,"they always called it, as if it were a house. Sometimes they stayedall day, till it was time for Rob to go for the cows. They read, orthey played dominoes or chequers or backgammon; or they putdissected maps together; or they looked at all sorts of things underthe microscope; or they painted flowers: this was the nicest thingof all. Mrs. Cook drew and painted beautifully. She had taughtArthur, so that he could paint a little simple flower really verywell; and he had a beautiful paint-box, full of real good paints,such as artists use,--not such as are put in toy-boxes for children.This was the thing Nelly enjoyed best. Then Ralph, the cook, used togo off gunning every day, and he brought home beautiful birds, andArthur and Rob used to nail the wings on boards to dry. Arthur had alittle table that fitted across his chair, and on this table hecould pound pretty hard; and he made a good many pretty things outof wood. It seemed to Rob that there wasn't any thing in the wholeworld which Flora could not bring out of the two big black boxeswhich stood in her tent, and held Arthur's things. As for books, hehad fifty: every one of Mayne Reid's. When Rob saw those he wasdelighted.

  "Oh, Arthur! Arthur! ain't they splendid! I've had 'The CliffClimbers.'"

  "I don't think so," said Arthur. "They're all about hunting andfighting, and such things."

  "Oh, my!" said Rob, "don't you like that? That's just what I like.I'll read some of 'em to you. I bet you'd like them." And when Robread them to him, Arthur really did like them.

  He could not help sharing Rob's enthusiasm; but when Robexclaimed:--"Oh, Arthur, don't you wish you could go to theHimalayas?" poor Arthur only shuddered, and said:--

  "No, indeed! it shakes you so awfully to go in the cars."

  Rob did not ask him again; but he told Nelly at night what Arthurhad said, and he added:--

  "Say, Nell, if I should ever get to be like Arthur, I'd takepoison."

  "Why, Rob!" cried Nelly, "that's awfully wicked! You wouldn't everdare to!" And Nelly turned pale with fright.

  "I expect it is," said Rob; "but I reckon I'd do it! Why, Nell, I'djust have to!"

  Mrs. Cook sat with the children hours at a time, and listened totheir talk and play. She and her husband took a drive or a rideevery afternoon; but the rest of the time she did not leave Arthur.The more she saw the influence of Rob and Nelly upon him, the moregrateful she felt for the strange chance which had brought themtogether. Arthur was really growing better. He had more color, moreappetite, and very seldom complained of pain. He had something tothink of beside himself; and he was happy,--the two best medicinesin all the world: they will cure more diseases than people dream.

  One day, Flora said to Mrs. Cook:--

  "I suppose, ma'am, ye'll be going soon. There was quite a frost inthe north o' the valley last night, Thomas was telling me. They saythere'll be snow here before long."

  "Yes, Flora, I suppose we will have to go very soon: week afternext, Mr. Cook thinks," replied Mrs. Cook.

  Arthur was lying back in his chair, with his eyes shut. They thoughthe was asleep; but at the sound of these words he opened his eyes,and cried out:--

  "I won't go away, mamma! I won't go! You can't make me. I'm notgoing away ever. I'm going to stay here."

  "Why, Arthur dear!" said his mother, "you wouldn't like to stay herewithout papa and without me; and you know papa must go home."

  "Yes, I would!" cried Arthur: "I've been thinking about it for everso long. Flora can stay: she can dress and undress me; and I canlive in Mrs. March's house, and sleep in Rob's bed. I asked Nelly,and she said I could. Rob can sleep on the lounge. I shan't go home.I hate New York; and if you take me back there I'll get sicker andsicker, and die; and I don't care if I do, if I can't stay here!"

  Mrs. Cook was grieved and shocked. She had often thought to herselfthat there was danger that Rob and Nelly would be discontented andlonely when Arthur went away; but strangely enough she had neverthought of any such danger for Arthur. She had often wished shecould take Nelly home with her to live; but she had dismissed itfrom her mind as an impossible thing. Now she began to think of itagain. She sat a long time in silence, turning it over and over.

  "Why don't you speak, mamma?" asked Arthur: "are you angry with me?"

  "No, dear," replied Mrs. Cook: "I am not angry: only very, verysorry; and I am trying to think what we can do to make you happywhen we go away. I shall be very sorry if all our pleasant time hereonly makes you unhappier after you go home. You were very contentedbefore we came here."

  "I don't think I was very, mamma," said Arthur, sadly. "I alwayswanted a boy or a girl; and none of the boys and girls in New Yorkcared any thing about me,--only my things; but Nelly is just like myown sister,--at least I guess that's the way sisters are,--and Robis just like my brother. Mamma, I can't go away! I don't see why youcan't leave me. You and papa would come back in the spring. Oh,mamma, let me! let me!" And poor Arthur began to cry.

  Mrs. Cook put her arms around him, and laid her face down close tohis.

  "My darling child!" she said, "haven't papa and I done every thingwe possibly could to make you happy always?"

  "Yes," sobbed Arthur; "and that's why I think you might leave mehere."

  "Dear boy, you don't seem to think," said his mother, "how lonelypapa and I would be without you."

  "Oh, mamma, would you, really? How could you be? I'm only a bother:I can't go round with you or any thing. I think you'd have a greatdeal better time without me. Perhaps I'd get so I could walk if Istayed here all winter. You know one doctor said I ought to stay awhole year."

  "Arthur, dear," said Mrs. Cook, earnestly, "do not talk any moreabout this now. Promise mamma
that you will try not to think aboutit either; and I promise you I will talk to papa and see what hethinks can be done. All we want in this world is to make you happy,and do what is best for you."

  "Will you ask him to let me stay?" cried Arthur.

  "I will tell him how you feel about being separated from Nelly andRob," replied his mother; "and I think we can arrange in some way."

  Mrs. Cook had already made up her mind what she would do. She wouldask Mrs. March to let Nelly go back with them to New York for thewinter. She knew that Mr. Cook would be willing; and she believedthat Mrs. March might be persuaded to consent, on account of theadvantage it would be to Nelly. But she would not mention this planto Arthur now, because he would only be all the more disappointed ifit failed. Arthur leaned his head back in his chair, and shut hiseyes again.

  "Oh, dear!" he said, "crying does always make my head ache so!"

  "Yes, dear," said his mother, "that is reason enough, if there wereno other, why you should try hard to behave like a man always, andnever let any little thing upset you enough to make you cry."

  "I know it," said Arthur, forlornly; "but you cry before you thinkyou're going to; and then you can't stop."

  As soon as Mrs. Cook was alone with her husband, she told him whatArthur had said.

  "I am not at all surprised," he replied: "I have been expecting it."

  "Of course it would never do to leave the child here," said Mrs.Cook.

  "Of course not," said Mr. Cook. "But I'll tell you what we mightdo: take Rob and Nelly home with us for the winter. I think theirfather and mother would let them go."

  "Rob too?" said Mrs. Cook.

  "Rob too!" echoed Mr. Cook. "Why, if I could have but one Rob wouldbe the one; but if we take one we've got to take both: you might aswell propose to separate the Siamese twins."

  "I was thinking of proposing to take Nelly," said Mrs. Cook. "Idon't see how Mrs. March could spare them both."

  "She could easier let them both go than have one left behind topine. I don't know but it would kill them to be apart from eachother. I don't see, though, how you can prefer Nelly to Rob?"

  "And I don't see how you can prefer Rob to Nelly," answered Mrs.Cook: "as a companion for Arthur, Nelly is twice as good as Rob."

  "Does Arthur like her better?" asked Mr. Cook.

  "Yes, I think he does," replied Mrs. Cook: "he seems to lean on her.He is very fond of Rob, too. He said to-day that they were just likehis sister and brother."

  "Let us go down to-night and ask Mr. and Mrs. March about it," saidMr. Cook. "The sooner it is settled the better. If Arthur has gotthis crotchet in his head about staying, he won't be easy a minute."

  After tea, Mr. and Mrs. Cook walked down to the house, and proposedthe plan. At first, Mr. March said no, most decidedly. But Mrs.March begged him to consider the thing, and not decide too hastily.

  "Think what a splendid thing it would be for the children," shesaid.

  "But think what a desolate winter you would have here without them,"said Mr. March.

  "Oh, no, not desolate!" said Mrs. March: "not desolate with youhere. Nelly would write every week. The winter would soon pass away.And, Robert, they may never have another such opportunity in theirlives. I think it would be wrong for us to refuse it for them."

  "Why not consult them?" said Mr. Cook.

  "I know beforehand what they would say," answered Mr. March. "Nellywould say stay here, and Rob would say go. No: we must decide thequestion ourselves; and Mrs. March is right: we ought not to decidetoo hastily. We will let you know in the morning."

  "You understand, I hope," said Mrs. Cook, "that it is a very greatfavor, for the sake of our helpless boy, that we ask it. It isreally asking you to give up your two children for a time, just tomake our one happy."

  "I understand that," replied Mr. March; "but you must know that itis also a very great obligation under which we lay ourselves to you.I feel it to be such, and I confess I shrink from it: I can neverrepay it."

  "Nonsense!" said Mr. Cook. "The obligation is all on our side; andif you had ever had a poor helpless child like Arthur, you couldrealize it. Why, March, I'd give all my fortune this moment, andbegin at the bottom and make it all over again, if I could seeArthur well and strong as your Rob." And the tears filled Mr. Cook'seyes, as he shook hands with Mrs. March, and bade her good-night.

  Mr. and Mrs. March talked nearly all night before they could come toa decision about this matter. It was a terrible thing to them tolook forward to a whole winter without the children. But Mrs. Marchcontinually said:--

  "Robert, suppose we never have another chance to give either of themsuch an opportunity of pleasure and improvement as this. How shallwe feel when we look back? We should never forgive ourselves."

  So it was decided that the children should go.

  In the morning Mrs. March said to Nelly:--

  "You'll miss Arthur when he goes: won't you?"

  Nelly hesitated, and finally said:--

  "Arthur says he won't go!"

  "Won't go!" exclaimed Mrs. March: "what does he mean?"

  "He is going to ask his father to ask you to let him stay here withus," replied Nelly. "I thought he might sleep in Rob's bed. Rob sayshe'd just as soon sleep on the lounge; and I thought you'd bewilling. He's such a poor dear! I could take all the care of him."

  "Would you really like to have him?" said Mrs. March.

  "Oh, yes, indeed, mamma, ever so much! I love him as well as I doRob,--almost: not quite, I guess, because he isn't my own brother;but it is so hard for him to be sick, that makes me love him more."

  "Mr. and Mrs. Cook came down here last night to ask us to let youand Rob go back to New York with them for the winter," said Mrs.March, very quietly, watching Nelly's face as she spoke.

  It turned scarlet in one second, and the voice was almost a shriekin which Nelly cried out:--

  "Oh, mamma! how perfectly splendid! Can we go?"

  Then in the very next second she said:--

  "But you couldn't spare us: could you? You couldn't stay here allalone." And her face fell.

  "Yes, I think we could spare you; and we have said you might go,"said Mrs. March, smiling.

  Nelly's arms were round her mother's neck in one moment, and she waskissing her and half laughing and half crying.

  "Oh, mamma! mamma!" she said, "I can't tell whether I am glad orsorry. I don't want to go away from you; but oh! if you only couldhear Arthur tell of all the beautiful things in New York! Oh! Idon't know whether I am sorry or glad!"

  But Mrs. March knew very well that she was glad, and this made itmuch easier for her to bear the thought of the separation.

  If Nelly, the quiet Nelly, were as glad and excited as this, how doyou suppose the adventurous Rob felt, when he heard the news? Thehouse wouldn't hold him. He had to run out and turn summersaults onthe grass. Then he raced off down to the tents, and told Flora andRalph and Thomas. It was early in the morning, and Arthur was notup. All the servants were glad. They all liked Rob and Nelly, andthey all saw how much better Arthur had grown since he had hadchildren to play with.

  "Ah, Master Rob," said Thomas, "just wait till I drive ye out in thePark; that's a place worth looking at,--all beautiful green grass,and lakes, and roads as smooth and hard as a beach, and groves oftrees,--not like this bare wilderness, I can tell ye."

  "Are there mountains there, Thomas?" asked Rob.

  "Mountains! no! The Lord be praised: never a mountain!" exclaimedRalph; "and if ever I'm thankful for anything, it is to get out ofsight of the ugly sides of 'em!"

  "Oh, Ralph!" was all Rob could say at hearing such an opinion ofmountains.

  When Flora and Thomas brought Arthur out of the tent, Rob rantowards them.

  "Oh, Arthur--" he began.

  "I know all about it," said Arthur: "Nelly and you are going homewith us. I'd rather stay here, but they won't let me; and having yougo home with us is next best."

  Rob thought this was rather an ungracious way for Arthur to speak,an
d so it was.

  "You wouldn't like it here in the winter half so well as you donow, Arthur," he said. "It's awfully cold sometimes; and real deepsnow. You'd be shut up in the house lots."

  "So I am at home," said Arthur: "weeks and weeks."

  "But your house is nicer to be shut up in than ours," continued Rob.

  "I don't care," said Arthur: "I wanted to stay. But I'm real gladyou and Nelly are going. Can Nelly skate? We'll go and see her skatein the Park."

  "No, she can't! but I can," said Rob. "Is there good skating there?"

  "Oh, goodness, Rob!" exclaimed Arthur, "didn't you know about theskating in Central Park? Well, you'll see! We drive up there everypleasant day. I'm sick of it. But the skating's some fun: I wish Icould skate."

  "Perhaps you'll get strong enough to, pretty soon," said Rob,sympathizingly.

  "If they'd let me stay here I might," said Arthur, fretfully; "butthey won't."

  The nights grew cool so fast that Mr. and Mrs. Cook began to beimpatient to set out for home. At first, Mr. and Mrs. March pleadedwith them to stay longer; but one morning Mrs. March said suddenlyto her husband:--

  "Robert, I've changed my mind about the children's going: I thinkthe sooner they go the better. It is just like having a day set forhaving a tooth pulled: you suffer all the pain ten times over inanticipating it. I can't think about anything else from morning tillnight. Oh, I do hope we haven't done wrong!"

  "It isn't too late yet to keep them at home," said Mr. March. "Don'tlet us do it if your mind is not clear. I don't think Nelly morethan half wants to go now."

  "Oh, yes, she does!" replied Mrs. March. "She is so excited in theprospect that she talks in her sleep about it. I heard her, lastnight."

  "The dear child!" said Mr. March. "It was Nelly that they reallywanted most."

  "Not at all," said Mrs. March, quickly: "Mr. Cook told me that hewould have only asked for Rob, but he knew the children could not beseparated."

  "Well, that's odd," said Mr. March. "Mrs. Cook told me that she hadbeen long thinking that she wished she could have Nelly, but sheknew it would be out of the question to separate the children."

  Mrs. March laughed.

  "I see," she said: "they disagree about the children, just as youand I do. Mrs. Cook likes Nelly best, and Mr. Cook likes Rob."

  "Why, Sarah!" exclaimed Mr. March, "what do you mean? We love thechildren just alike."

  "Yes, perhaps we love them equally," replied Mrs. March; "but wedon't like them equally. I like Rob's ways best, and you likeNelly's. It's always been so, ever since they were born. You'll seeNelly will make a good, loving, lovable woman; but Rob will make asplendid man. Rob will do something in the world: you see if he doesnot!"

  Mr. March smiled.

  "I hope he will," he said. "But as for my little Nelly, I wouldn'task any thing more for her than to be, as you say, 'a good, loving,lovable woman.'"

  CHAPTER XVI

  "GOOT-BY AND GOOT LUCK"

  When Nelly heard that they were to set out in three days, sheexclaimed:--

  "Why, I didn't bid Ulrica good-by, or Mr. Kleesman, or Billy andLucinda. I thought we weren't going for two weeks. Mayn't I go upto-morrow, mamma? I can sell some eggs, too, even if it isn't theregular day. Ever so many people ask me for them always. Hardlyanybody keeps hens in Rosita."

  Mrs. March said she might go. So, very early the next morning, Nellyset off on her last trip to Rosita. Billy was standing in hisdoorway as she passed.

  "Hullo, Nelly! Where's Rob?" he said.

  "Rob's at home with Arthur," she replied. "He didn't want to come. Ionly came to bid everybody good-by. We're going day afterto-morrow."

  "Be yer?" said Billy, slowly. "Be yer glad, Nelly?"

  "Why, yes, Billy, I can't help being glad; and for all that, itmakes me cry when I think about going away from mamma and papa.Isn't that queer?" said Nelly: "I'm glad, and yet it makes me cry."

  "No, 'tain't queer," said Billy: "'twould be queerer if ye didn't.Ain't Rob goin' to bid anybody good-by?"

  "Oh, he'll have time when we go by, the day we go," said Nelly."We're all coming up to Rosita to sleep to-morrow night at thehotel; and then papa and mamma and Rob and I are going in the stageto Canyon City. There isn't room for any more in Mr. Cook'scarriage. Perhaps Rob'll go in the wagon with Ralph and Thomas. Hewants to; but mamma wants to see all of him she can.

  "That's just the difference between them two children, Luce," saidBilly, after Nelly had walked on: "Rob he's all for himself, withoutmeanin' to be, either; he jest don't think: but Nelly she's 'sthoughtful 's a woman about everybody."

  "I donno why you say 's thoughtful 's a woman, Billy," said Lucinda."I've seen plenty of women that was as selfish as any men ever Isee."

  "Well, I expect that's so, Luce," said Billy. "You ought to know,bein' a woman."

  Nelly went first to Ulrica's. Ulrica listened with wide open mouthand eyes to the news that she would see Nelly no more all winter. Atfirst, her face was very sad; but in a few moments she said:--

  "Bah! shame me to be sorry. It are goot! goot! Ulrica vill be glad.Ven you come back?"

  "Early next summer," replied Nelly. "Mr. Cook always comes toColorado in June."

  Ulrica ran to the big oak-chest, and opening it took out the blueskirt and red bodice she had been making for Nelly.

  "See! it are not done: that goot-for-not'ing Sachs he promise,promise, all de time promise to make buttons."

  "What is it, Ulrica?" asked Nelly.

  "Oh, you not know? It are gown,--Swede gown for you: like minechild." And she ran for the picture-book of costumes, and pointed toone like it.

  Nelly was much pleased.

  "Oh! how good of you, Ulrica!" she said. "Mrs. Cook would love tosee me put that dress on, I am sure. I will wear it sometimes in thehouse, when I am in New York, to remind me of you."

  "I get buttons to-day!" said Ulrica, fiercely. "I stay by dat Sachstill he cut dem. It are not work: he do it in five minnit. You comeagain to-night: it are done."

  Mrs. Clapp and Mr. Kleesman were both very much pleased to hear thatNelly was going away with Mr. and Mrs. Cook. Mrs. Clapp kissed her,and said:--

  "Good-by, dear! You are a brave little girl, and deserve to have anice, long play-spell; and I am glad you are going to have one. Waita minute, and I will give you something to wear on your journey."Then she ran upstairs, and brought down a nice leather belt with apretty little leather bag hanging from it, just big enough to hold apurse. "There, that is to keep your purse in, and your railroadticket," she said, and fastened it around Nelly's waist.

  Mr. Kleesman also kissed Nelly, and said he was glad she was going.

  "You haf earn that you haf playtime," he said. "You haf vork allsummer like von voman more as von little girl."

  "I wonder why they all say such things to me," thought Nelly. "I amsure I don't know what I have done. If they mean selling the eggs,that was only fun."

  "Do you mean selling the eggs, sir?" asked honest Nelly. "That wasnot work: it was just fun. Rob and I never had such a good timebefore. We would have liked to come every day."

  Mr. Kleesman nodded.

  "I know! I know!" he said. "You are not like American childs." Thenhe asked:--

  "And vat do become of the Goot Luck mine? I not hear not'ing since."

  "Oh!" said Nelly, "we have almost forgotten about the old mine. Itwasn't 'good luck:' was it? But Mr. Scholfield keeps on working atit now. He will not give up that it is not good for any thing."

  "I say not, it are wort not'ing," replied Mr. Kleesman: "I say itnot pay to work it. It cost too much for so little silver as comeout."

  "Yes, sir; papa understood that," said Nelly; "and he was very muchobliged to you indeed; and so we all were."

  Then Mr. Kleesman said:--

  "Come in! come in! Can you to vait von little? I make for you silverrose, that you carry viz you."

  "Oh, thank you!" said Nelly; and followed him in, wondering muchwhat he meant by a silver rose.


  Then he took out of the glass box, where the brass scales were, alittle saucer, full of tiny silver beads like pin-heads. These hefolded up in a bit of paper, shaped like a little cocked hat. Thishe put into one of the little clay cups, and set it in the glowingred-hot oven. Pretty soon Nelly looked in. The silver was boilingand bubbling in the little cup; the bubbles looked like shiningsilver eyes on the red; then there came beautiful rainbow colors allover it.

  "See you it haf colors like rainbow?" said Mr. Kleesman: "ven deycome it are almost done."

  In a second more he took out the cup: set it on the iron anvil:there was a fiery line of red around the silver button: the buttonwas about the size of a three-cent piece.

  "Vatch! vatch!" cried Mr. Kleesman: "in one second it burst."

  Sure enough, in one second the round button burst in the middle, andthe hot silver gushed up like a little fairy fountain of water, notmore than quarter of an inch high: in the same instant it fell,cooled, and there was a sort of flower, not unlike a rose, offrosted silver.

  "Dere! ven you are in New York, you can take dis to jeweller, and heput pin on it; and you shall vear it, and tell to all peoples youhaf seen it ven it vas made by old man in de Colorado mountains."

  Nelly took the pretty thing in her hands and looked at it withdelight. She had never had any thing so pretty, she thought; and shethanked Mr. Kleesman again and again, as she bade him good-by.

  "Oh, I see you again: I see you ven you go in stage. I not saygood-by to-day," he said, and looked after her lovingly as she randown the steps.

  Ulrica had a stormy time of it with Sachs, the tin-man, before shecould get him to cut out the make-believe buttons for Nelly's gown.He was at work on a big boiler, and he did not want to stop.Ulrica's broken English grew so much more broken when she was angry,that hardly any one could understand her; and William Sachs, who wasa German, knew English very little better than Ulrica: so betweenthem they made sad work of it.

  "I stamp my foot at him," said Ulrica, telling Nelly the tale: "Istamp at him my foot, and I take out of his hand his big hammer vathe pound, pound viz all time dat I am speak, so dat he not hear myspeak. I take out his hand, and I frow down on floor; and I say, 'Inot stir till you my buttons haf cut for mine child;' and ven he seeI not stir, he take tools and he cut, cut, cut, and all the time heswear at me; he call me 'tam Swede woman;' but I not care. And hereare gown: now you come in and put on."

  So Nelly went in, and Ulrica helped her to undress. When she sawNelly's white neck, she stooped down and kissed her, and said.--

  "Mine child haf white skin: like your skin."

  The red bodice fitted Nelly very well; and she looked lovely in it.It had a low collar, all covered with the shining tin buttons; andin the front there was a square space of white muslin, and the tinbuttons were sewed on all round this. The blue petticoat was toolong: it lay on the ground two inches or more. Ulrica looked at itdismayed.

  "Ach!" she said: "ach! you haf not so tall I tink. I make him now invon little more as short." And down on the floor she sat, and hemmedup the skirt in a wonderfully quick time.

  "Ach! if you vait till Jan see you in dis," she said, lookingimploringly at Nelly, with tears running down her face. "You aremine child, mine child!"

  But Nelly knew that Jan would not be at home till six o'clock, andshe could not stay so long. So she took off the pretty costume, andkissed Ulrica, and thanked her many times over; and set off for homewith all her presents safe-packed in her basket.

  When Rob saw the presents, he said:--

  "Oh, my! I wonder if they'd all have given me things too, if I'dgone up. Did they say any thing about me?"

  "They asked why you didn't come," replied Nelly; "and I told themyou meant to bid them good-by to-morrow, when we started on thejourney."

  "All right!" said Rob: "if they've got any thing for me they cangive it to me then."

  "I never thought of their giving me any thing," said Nelly: "Iwonder what made them."

  "Because they all know that you love them, Nelly," said her father:"don't you?"

  "Yes, I think so," said Nelly, hesitatingly: "almost love them,--notquite, I guess: except Ulrica. I love her dearly."

  "And Lucinda and Billy," added Rob. "I love them best of all. Idon't love any of the rest. You can't love everybody."

  At sunset the next night, the March house was shut up; the tentswere all gone; the whole place looked deserted and silent. Everybodyhad gone: Mr. and Mrs. Cook and Flora and Arthur in the carriage:Ralph and Thomas and Rob in the white-topped wagon; and Mr. andMrs. March and Nelly in Mr. Scholfield's buggy, which he had lentthem. They drove up to Rosita in time to see the sunset from the topof the hill. Nelly looked at the mountains as they changed from blueto purple, and from purple to dusky gray: she did not speak. At lasther mother said:--

  "You won't forget how the mountains look: will you, Nelly?"

  "Not a bit more than I'll forget how you and papa look!" said Nelly:"not a bit!"

  After tea, Rob went to bid Mrs. Clapp and Mr. Kleesman and Ulricaand Jan good-by. Everybody spoke very cordially to him, and hoped hewould have a good time; but nobody gave him any thing, and Rob was agood deal disappointed. He said nothing about it when he came home:he was ashamed to. But Nelly knew how he felt, just as well as if hehad told her; and in her good little heart she was very sorry forhim.

  "Mamma," she said, "isn't it too bad that none of them gave Rob anything, when they gave me all those nice things?"

  "Yes, I'm sorry," said Mrs. March; "but he has not been here so muchas you have,--that is the reason: and he is so happy in the prospectof his journey, he will not mind it."

  The stage from Rosita to Canyon City set off at seven o'clock in themorning. When it drove up to the hotel door, Mr. and Mrs. March andRob and Nelly were all ready, sitting on the piazza. While they weregetting in, Mr. Kleesman's door opened, and he came running up, withhis red cotton cap still on his head: in his hurry he had forgottento take it off. He looked so droll that even Nelly laughed; and thisreminded him of his nightcap.

  "Ach!" he said, and snatched it off and crammed it into his pocket.

  In a moment more, who should come hurrying up the hill but Jan andUlrica; and, behind them, Billy and Lucinda. Billy and Lucinda hadcome up to town the night before, and slept at Lucinda's father'shouse, so as to be on hand to see Nelly and Rob off.

  None of the Cook family were up. Their horses would go so muchfaster than the stage horses, they were not going to set out untilnoon. Ralph and Thomas had started with the heavy wagon at daylight.

  There were no other passengers to go in the stage except theMarches: so the driver did not hurry them; and, after they had takentheir seats, Jan and Ulrica and Billy and Lucinda all crowdedaround, saying last words.

  Ulrica had brought two great bouquets of purple and white asters andgolden-rod, the only flowers that were then in bloom.

  "Dese are for you," she said to the children; but, when they reachedout their hands to take them, she shook her head, and said: "No, Ifrow dem: it haf luck to frow dem."

  Lucinda had brought a little parcel in which were two knit scarfs,which she had knit herself: one white and one red. The red one wasfor Rob and the white one for Nelly, she said. They were verypretty. Billy brought a knife for Rob: a capital knife, one withfour blades. Rob's face flushed with pleasure.

  "Why, Billy," he said, "how'd you know I'd lost my knife?"

  "Oh, I found out," said Billy. The truth was, that Billy had walkedall the way down to the tents, a few days before, and asked Ralphand Flora if they knew of any thing Rob wanted; and Flora told himhow Rob had lost his knife that very day,--had dropped it in thecreek, while he was cutting willows to make whistles of. After Billyhad given Rob the knife, he pulled out of his pocket a little parceldone up in white paper, and handed it to Nelly, saying:--

  "I dunno 's it'll be of any kind o' use to yer; but I thought 'twaskind o' putty."

  Nelly opened the paper. It held a queer little scarlet velvetpincushion,
in a white ivory frame, which was made so that it couldscrew on a table.

  "Oh, how pretty!" said Nelly. "Thank you, Billy. I'll keep it on mytable all winter."

  Mr. Kleesman stood behind the others. He smiled and bowed, and saidto Mr. March:--

  "You haf goot day. The sun shine on your journey."

  "Yes," said Mr. March. "I'm afraid it will not shine so bright whenwe come back without these little people."

  "No, dat it vill not," said Mr. Kleesman. "Dat it vill not."

  "Well," said the driver, gathering up the reins in his left hand,and lifting his whip, "I guess we'll have to be movin' along, ifyou're ready, sir."

  "All ready," said Mr. March.

  The driver cracked his whip, and the horses started off on a run, upthe hill.

  "Good-by! good-by!" shouted Rob and Nelly, leaning out.

  "Goot-by!" cried Ulrica, and flung her bouquets into the stage, intoMrs. March's lap, and Nelly's.

  "Good-by! good-by!" cried Billy and Lucinda.

  "Goot-by!" cried Mr. Kleesman; "and goot luck go with you."

  "That's jest what will go with that Nelly wherever she goes," saidBilly, turning to Mr. Kleesman.

  "You haf known the child?" asked Mr. Kleesman.

  "Well, yes," said Billy, leisurely, "I may say I know her. I brought'em here, three years ago last spring; an' me 'n' my wife we livedwith 'em goin' on a year. Yes, I know 'em. There ain't any nicerfolks in this world; but Nelly she's the pick o' the hull on 'em.She ain't no common child; she ain't, now. She hain't minded no moreabout that mine o' hern,--that mine she found,--I suppose you'veheered all about it--"

  "Yes, I know," said Mr. Kleesman.

  "Well," continued Billy, "nobody but me knows how that little gal'sheart was set on to thet mine. She'd come an' stand by the hour an'see me work in it. I worked there long o' Scholfield some six weeks:we was all took in putty bad. She'd come an' stand an' look an'look, and talk about what her father 'n' mother could do with themoney; never so much 's a word about any thing she'd like herself;an' yet I could see her hull heart was jest set on it. And yet'ssoon 's 'twas clear an' sartin that the mine wan't good for anything, she jest give it all up; and there hain't never come acomplainin' or a disapp'inted word out o' her mouth. 'Twas her ownmine too,--and after her namin' it and all. I've seen many a man inthis country broken all up by no worse a disappointment than thatchild had. She's been jest a lesson to me: she has. I declare Inever go by the pesky mine without thinking o' the day when shedanced up and sez she, 'I'll name it! I'll name it "The GoodLuck!"'"

  "Ach, veil!" said Mr. Kleesman, "she haf better than any silver minein her own self. She haf such goot-vill, such patient, such true,she haf always 'goot luck.' She are 'Goot Luck mine' her own self."

  * * * * *

  TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES:Spelling and punctuation have been retained except as noted.crestfallen and crest-fallen are both useddoorstep and door-step are both usedNelly and Nellie were both used, standardized to Nelly.Page 141 beause changed to because (because they come very early)Page 175 than changed to then (then a loud burst of laughter)Page 203 thmselves changed to themselves (settle all such mattersthemselves)Page 213 by changed to be (be one way to pay)Page 231 stroke changed to stroked (stroked his long, white beard)Page 242 stopped changed to stooped (stooped over and kissedPage 278 seek changed to see (to see her look troubled.); never changedto ever (thing I ever saw)Page 305 ancester changed to ancestor (like my famous ancestor)