CHAPTER XIV.
A FLOWER-GARDEN IN DOORS.
Hal went to school bright and early the first Monday in September. Itwas about a mile to the place called the "Cross-roads," because fromthere the roads diverged in every direction. An old tumble-down househad been put in tolerable order, and some second-hand desks and benchesarranged in the usual fashion. Just around this point, there was quitea nest of cottages belonging to the mill workmen.
The children straggled in shyly, eying the new master. Rather unkempt,some of them, and with not very promising faces, belonging to thepoorer class of German and English; then others bright and tidy, andbrimming over with mirthful smiles.
By ten o'clock sixteen had assembled. Hal gave them a short address,made a few rules, and attempted to classify them. They read and spelleda little, at least those who were able, when the bell on the factoryrang out the hour of noon.
Three new ones came after dinner. Hal labored faithfully; but it _was_a relief to have the session close.
Before the week ended, however, the prospect became more inspiriting.There were twenty-three scholars, and some whom it would be a pleasureto teach. But, after all, it was not as delightful as working amongthe flowers,--the dear, beautiful children who gave only fragrance andloveliness continually.
He had been so tired every night, that he could do nothing but rest;and so he was glad to have Saturday come.
"It seems early to take them in," he said, surveying the garden so fullof glory. "But there is a good deal to do; and I shall have only oneday in the week."
Kit took the wheelbarrow, and trundled off to the woods for some moregood soil; for Hal had to be economical, since he could not afford tobuy every thing. They were out of debt, and had a little money,--verylittle indeed; but there were some pears and grapes to sell. Hal'sConcord and Rogers hybrid had done beautifully; and two of thenew-comers in Madison had offered to take all he had, at ten cents apound.
"I could get more in the city," he said; "but there would be the timeand trouble of going. And grapes are heavy too: it doesn't take manybunches to weigh a pound; and ten pounds come to a dollar."
But on this day he went at his roses. He had obtained quite a numberof slips of hybrid monthlies, mostly tea-roses; and they were doingnicely. Some had blossomed once, and others were just showing bud.These he meant to transplant to his bed up stairs. Careful and patient,he took up the most of them so nicely, that I don't believe they knewthey were moved, until they began to look around for their companions.
Dot ran up stairs and down, and was most enthusiastic.
"It will be _so_ lovely to have a garden in the house!" was herconstant ejaculation.
By noon he had all the small roses in,--five white ones, four pink, andabout a dozen of different shades of deep velvety red. In this soilhe had used an abundance of powdered charcoal. Then came half a dozenyoung heliotropes.
"Now, I am going to save the rest of the space, and shall plantsweet-alyssum and candytuft, and some mignonette. I guess we have doneabout enough for one day," he said to Granny and Dot.
Charlie and Kit were lolling under the trees, resting from theirlabors. Now and then they had a merry outburst; but Charlie had grownstrangely quiet. She would sit lost in thought for hours together,unless some one spoke to her; and then she would take to reading in thesame absorbed manner.
"Hal," she said one evening, "what do you know of drawing?"
"A little more than the old woman who could not tell a cow from arosebud;" and Hal smiled with quiet humor.
"I wish some one would teach me!"
"They do not have any drawing at school?"
"No, only at the academy. Belle Hartman is learning; but I don't careany thing about flowers and such."
Faces and grotesque situations were Charlie's passion. She could seethe ludicrous side so quickly!
"You might practise at home, evenings."
"But paper costs a good deal. Oh, I wish I had some money!"
"Well Charlie, be patient. Something may come around by and by."
"Oh, dear!" and Charlie sighed. "I wish some one would come along andadopt me; but then I'm not handsome, like Flossy. I suppose she ishaving a splendid time. It seems to me that she might write just alittle word."
Hal thought so too. As the months went on, he began to feel bitterlydisappointed. Ah! if they could but see her once,--their beautifulFlorence.
Through the course of the month Hal managed to get his flowers in verynice order,--several fuchsia that were in splendid bloom, two largeheliotropes, an elegant and thrifty monthly carnation, and a salviathat was a glory in itself. But alas! that drooped and withered: soHall trimmed it down. Besides this, some rose and balm geraniums, a tubfull of callas, and ten of his tuberoses, that he had saved for winterblossoming. The other two had been a source of untold comfort to him.Then he had an exquisite safrano, and two chromatilla roses.
"Why it's quite a green-house," he said delightedly. "Now, if I canonly make them blossom all winter!"
The first spare Saturday he went over to Salem to see Mr. Thomas.He was rather diffident, and did not like to explain his economicalarrangements, but said that he was likely to have some flowers forsale. Mr. Thomas took him through his green-house again; and, thoughthere were a great many more plants, Hal thought he could show almostas much bloom.
"I'll take your flowers," he promised, "provided you do not have toomany, and if we could manage it this way: sometimes I receive a largeorder nearly a week beforehand, and I could let you know, in order thatyou might bring me all you had which were really fine. And, to be frankwith you, I cannot afford to pay as much as you might get at Newbury orNew York."
"I should like to know some of the prices," Hal remarked.
"It depends a good deal upon the demand and the season; but pricesnever vary a great deal."
They went round, and Hal learned a good deal in the course of his tour.
"Do you know of any place in Newbury where I could dispose of flowers?"he asked.
"There is a Mr. Kirkman,--one brother keeps a confectionery, and theother supplies flowers. But perhaps I may be able to do as well by you.However, I will give you his card."
Hal and Mr. Thomas parted very good friends; and the florist gave himsome valuable advice.
"That fellow will succeed," he said to himself, watching Hal'sretreating figure. "His whole soul is in the flowers; and he blushesover them as if they were a sweetheart. Looks pale and delicate,though."
Truth to tell, Hal had been working pretty hard. The school _was_ agreat tax upon him; and the labor with his plants had been severe. Kitand Granny tried to save him all they could in the way of getting inwinter vegetables, and looking after the chickens.
Ten days after his visit to Salem, he received a little note from Mr.Thomas on this wise.
"Bring me on Thursday morning, if you have them, three dozen roses, assorted colors, heliotrope, and fine sprays of fuchsia, if yours are still in bloom."
"F. THOMAS."
Hal was delighted. Through September they had managed to get along onthe proceeds of their garden, and the fruit; but his first month's payhad to go for clothes. It almost broke Granny's heart to take it.
"Why, I shall earn some more!" Hal exclaimed with his gay laugh. "It isjust what it is for, Granny, to spend. I'm thankful to be able to earnit."
It was the middle of October now; and there had been some severe frostalready. Tender out-doors plants were a mass of blackened ruins.
"You will have to go over for me, Charlie," said Hal, "because I cannotleave school. The stage starts at nine."
Charlie was in ecstasies. She rose by daylight on Thursday morning, tocurl her hair, Kit said; and could hardly wait for Hal to cut and packthe flowers.
"I am sure I shall be left!" she declared twenty times at least.
Hal thought of it all the way to school. It seemed different from anyother earnings, and gave him an exquisite pleasure. His own lovelydarlings, his dream act
ually coming to pass.
Charlie was superbly generous, and left the stage at the Cross-roads,when she might have ridden half a mile farther.
The children were just being dismissed: so she rushed in full ofexcitement.
"O Hal! he said they were lovely, and the carnations magnificent. Hewondered how you raised them. They were a great deal prettier than his."
Hal blushed like a girl. He had sent the carnations at a venture.
"And here's the bill and the money."
Charlie was as proud as if it had been her own. Hal's fingers trembledas he opened it. There they all were:--
Three dozen Roses $1.50 Two dozen Heliotrope .75 Fuchsias .75 One dozen Carnations .48 ----- $3.48
"Oh!" exclaimed Hal with a glad cry: "it's just splendid! And he likedthem all?"
"Yes. There's going to be a great wedding in Salem. Such hosts andhosts of flowers! And Jim Street took me for fifteen cents!"
"So there's more than three dollars profit," Hal returned. "Now youmust run home, Charlie, and get some dinner. I have not enough for two."
"I don't see why I can't stay. I should like to see your school, Hal,when all the children are in."
"But Granny will be troubled. Yes, you had better go, Charlie. You havebeen so good this morning, that you must not spoil it all. And thenshe'll be glad to hear."
Charlie went reluctantly. Granny was overjoyed The three dollars lookedas large to her as a hundred would have to many a one.
Hal could hardly wait until four o'clock. He hurried home, and ran upstairs; but the poor flowers had been shorn of their crown of glory.
"I can't bear to look at 'em," said Granny with a quiver in her voice."The poor dear things, that seemed jest like human creeturs! I usedto talk to 'em every time I came in."
"But they'll soon be lovely again; and it pleases me so much to thinkthat I can make a little money. I shall have the green-house some day;and you won't have any thing to do but walk round in it like a queen."
Granny smiled. Every plan of Hal's was precious to her.
The heliotrope appeared to be the better for the pruning; and some ofthe tuberoses shot up a tall spike for buds.
Then Hal had a few demands from the neighbors round. Mr. Thomas's nextcall was early in November, when he asked Hal to bring all the flowersthat were available. It being Saturday morning, he went in with themhimself, and became the happy recipient of five dollars and a quarter.Then he took a ramble in a bookstore, and, being attracted by the firstfew pages of "Charles Auchester," purchased the book.
Kit went nearly wild over it. Hal read it aloud; and he held his breathat the exquisite description of Charles's first concert, and thetenderness and sweetness of the Chevalier. Though part of it was ratherbeyond their comprehension, they enjoyed it wonderfully, nevertheless.
The little room up stairs became quite a parlor for them. The stovekept it nice and warm; and they used to love to sit there evenings,inhaling the fragrance, and watching the drowsy leaves as they noddedto each other: it seemed to Hal that he had never been so happy in theworld. He ceased to long for Florence.
They did very well on their chickens this year, clearing forty dollars.Granny thought they were quite rich.
"You ought to put it in the bank, Hal! it's just a flow of good luck onevery side."
And, when he received his pay for November, he actually did put fiftydollars in the bank, though there were a hundred things he wanted withit.
The latter part of December Hal's flowers began to bloom in greatprofusion. The alyssum and candytuft came out, and the house was sweetwith tuberoses. There being more than Mr. Thomas wanted, he took a boxfull to Newbury one Saturday morning, and found Mr. Kirkman, to whomthe flowers were quite a godsend. Eight dollars! Hal felt richer thanever.
He had set his heart upon buying some Christmas gifts. At first hethought he would break the fifty dollars; but it was so near the end ofthe month that he borrowed a little from Dr. Meade instead. He camehome laden with budgets; but both Kit and Charlie were out, fortunately.
"Now, Granny, you _will_ keep the secret," he implored. "Don't breathea hint of it."
Very hard work Granny found it. She chuckled over her dish-washing;and, when Dot asked what was the matter, subsided into an awfulsolemnity. But Wednesday morning soon came.
They all rushed down to their stockings, which Kit and Charlie hadinsisted upon hanging up after the olden fashion. Stockings were emptyhowever, as Santy Claus' gifts were rather unwieldy for so small areceptacle.
Kit started back in amazement. A mysterious black case with a brasshandle on the top.
"O Hal! you are the dearest old chap in the world; a perfect darling,isn't he Granny? and I never, never can thank you. I've been thinkingabout it all the time, and wondering--oh, you dear, precious fiddle!"
Kit hugged it; and I am not sure but he kissed it, and capered aroundthe room as if he had lost his senses.
Charlie's gift was a drawing-book, a set of colored pencils, and a newdress; Granny's a new dress; and Dot's a muff and tippet, a very prettyimitation of ermine. How delighted they all were! Kit could hardly eata mouthful of breakfast.
Granny gave them a royal dinner. Altogether it was almost as good asthe Christmas with "The old woman who lived in a shoe."
Yet there were only four of them now. How they missed the two absentfaces!
Shortly after this they had a letter from Joe. He had actually beenat Canton, seen John Chinaman on his native soil in all the glory ofpigtail and chop-stick. Such hosts of funny adventures it would havebeen hard to find even in a book. He meant to cruise around in thatpart of the world until he was tired, for he was having the tallestkind of sport.
February was very pleasant indeed. Hal stirred up the soil in his coldframes, and planted some seeds. His flowers were still doing very well,the slips having come forward beautifully. On the whole, it had proveda rather pleasant winter, and they had been very happy.
Granny declared that she was quite a lady. No more weaving carpet, orgoing out to work,--nothing but "puttering" about the house. She wasbecoming accustomed to the care of the flowers, and looked after themin a manner that won Hal's entire heart.
Easter was to fall very early. Mr. Thomas had engaged all Hal'sflowers, and begged him to have as many white ones as possible. Sohe fed the callas on warm water, with a little spirits of ammonia init, and the five beautiful stalks grew up, with their fairy haunt ofloveliness and fragrance. Dot used to look at them twenty times a day,as the soft green turned paler and paler, bleaching out at last to thatwonderful creamy white with its delicate odor.
Outside he transplanted his heads of lettuce, sowed fresh seedsof various kinds, and began to set slips of geranium. On cold orstormy days they kept the glass covered, and always at night. It wasmarvellous, the way every thing throve and grew. It seemed to Hal thatthere was nothing else in the world so interesting.
Kit had begun to take lessons on his violin; but he soon found therewas a wide difference between the absolute drudgery of rudiments,and the delicious dreams of melody that floated through his brain.Sometimes he cried over the difficulties, and felt tempted to throwaway his violin; then he and Hal would have a good time with theirbeloved Charles Auchester, when he would go on with renewed courage.
After Easter the flowers looked like mere wrecks. Hal cut most of theroses down, trimmed the heliotrope and fuchsias, and planted verbenas.His pansies, which had come from seed, looked very fine and thrifty,and were in bud. So he mentioned that he would have quite a number ofbedding-plants for sale.
Indeed, the fame of Hal's green-house spread through Madison. It was amarvel to everybody, how he could make plants grow in such a remarkablefashion, and under not a few disadvantages. But he studied the soiland habits minutely; and then he had a "gift,"--as much of a genius forthis, as Kit's for music, or Charlie's for drawing.
But with these warm spring days Hal grew
very pale and thin. Itseemed to him sometimes as if he could not endure the peculiar wearand anxiety of the school. There were thirty-five scholars now; and,although he tried to keep respectable order, he found it very hardwork. He had such a tender, indulgent heart, that he oftener excusedthan punished.
His head used to ache dreadfully in the afternoon, and every pulse inhis body would throb until it seemed to make him absolutely sore. Thegardening and the school were quite too much.
"Granny," said Charlie one evening, "I am not going to school any more."
Granny opened her eyes in surprise.
"I am going to work."
"To work?"
It was astonishing to hear Charlie declare such sentiments.
"Yes,--in the mill."
"What will you do?"
"Sarah Marshall began last fall: it's cleaning specks and imperfectionsout of the cloth; not very hard, either, and they give her four and ahalf a week."
"That's pretty good," said Granny.
"Yes. I shall have to do something. I hate housework and sewing, and--Iwant some money."
"I'm sure Hal's as good as an angel."
"I don't want Hal's. Goodness knows! he has enough to do, and it's hightime I began to think about myself."
Granny was overwhelmed with admiration at Charlie's spirit andresolution, yet she was not quite certain of its being proper until shehad asked Hal.
"I wish she wanted to learn dressmaking instead, or to teach school;but she isn't proud, like Flossy. And now she is growing so large thatshe wants nice clothes, and all that."
Yet Hal sighed a little. Charlie somehow appeared to be lacking inrefinement. She had a great deal of energy and persistence, and was noteasily daunted or laughed out of any idea.
"Though I think she will make a nice girl," said Hal, as if he had beenindulging in a little treason. "We have a good deal to be thankful for,Granny."
"Yes, indeed! And dear, brave Joe such a nice boy!"
Hal made a few inquiries at the mill. They would take Charlie, and payher two dollars a week for the first month, after that by the piece;and, if she was smart, she could earn three or four dollars.
So Charlie went to work with her usual sturdiness. If they could havelooked in her heart, and beheld all her plans, and known that shehated this as bitterly as washing dishes or mending old clothes!
On the first of June, Hal took an account of stock. They had been quitefortunate in the sale of early vegetables. The lettuce, radishes, andtomato-plants had done beautifully. For cut-flowers he had receivedfifty-two dollars; for bedding-plants,--scarlet and other geraniums,and pansies,--the sum had amounted to over nine dollars; for vegetablesand garden-plants, eleven. They had not incurred any extra expense,save the labor.
"To think of that, Granny! Almost seventy-five dollars! And on such asmall scale too! I think I could make gardening pay, if I had a fairchance."
Dr. Meade admitted that it was wonderful, when he heard of it.
"I'm not sure that a hot-house would pay here in Madison, but you couldsend a great many things to New York. Any how, Hal, if I were rich Ishould build you one."
"You are very kind. I shouldn't have done as well, if it had not beenfor you."
"Tut, tut! That's nothing. But I don't like to see you growing so thin.I shall have to prepare you a tonic. You work too hard."
Hal smiled faintly.
"You must let gardening alone for the next six weeks. And the schoolisn't the best thing in the world for you."
"I've been very thankful for it, though."
"If you stay another year, the salary must be raised. Do you like it?"
"Not as well as gardening."
"Well, take matters easy," advised the good doctor.
The tonic was sent over. Hal made a strong fight against thelanguor; but the enemy was rather too stout for him. Every daythere was a little fever; and at night he tossed from side to side,and could not sleep. Granny made him a "pitcher of tea," her greatcure-all,--valerian, gentian, and wild-cherry,--in a pitcher that hadlost both handle and spout; and, though he drank it to please her, itdid not appear to help him any.
It seemed to him, some days, that he never could walk home from school.Now and then he caught a ride, to be sure; but the weary step afterstep on these warm afternoons almost used up his last remnant ofstrength.
"Now," said Dr. Meade when school had ended, "you really must begin totake care of yourself. You are as white as if you had not an ounce ofblood in your whole body. No work of any kind, remember. It is to be aregular vacation."
Hal acquiesced from sheer inability to do any thing else. The housewas quiet; for Dot never had been a noisy child since her crying-days.She was much more like Florence, except the small vanities, and air ofmartyrdom, that so often spoiled the elder sister's sacrifices,--asweet, affectionate little thing, a kind of baby, as she would alwaysbe.
Her love for Hal and Granny was perfect devotion, and held in it astrand of quaintness that made one smile. She could cook quite nicely;and sewing appeared to come natural to her. Hal called her "Smallwoman," as an especial term of endearment.
But they hardly knew what to make of Charlie. Instead of launching outinto gayeties, as they expected (for Charlie was very fond of finery),she proved so economical, that she was almost stingy. She gave Granny adollar a week; and they heard she was earning as much as Sarah Marshallalready. In fact, Charlie was a Trojan when she worked in good earnest.
"What are you going to do with it all?" Hal would ask playfully.
"Maybe I'll put it in the bank, or buy a farm."
"Ho!" said Kit. "What would you do with a farm?"
"Hire it out on shares to Hal."
"You are a good girl, Charlie; and it's well to save a little 'gainsttime o' need."
Which encomium of Granny's would always settle the matter.
Hal did not get better. Dr. Meade wanted him to go to the seaside for afew weeks.
"I cannot afford it," he said; "and I shouldn't enjoy it a bit alone. Ithink I shall be better when cool weather comes. These warm days seemto melt all the strength out of me."
"Well, I hope so."
Hal hoped so too. He was young; and the world looked bright; and thenthey all needed him. Not that he had any morbid thoughts of dying, onlysometimes it crossed his mind. He had never been quite so well andstrong since the accident.
For Granny's sake and for Dot's sake. He loved them both so dearly; andthey seemed so peculiarly helpless,--the one in her shy childhood, theother on the opposite confine. He wanted to make Granny's life pleasantat the last, when she had worked so hard for all of them.
But God would do what was best; though Hal's lip quivered, and anunbidden tear dropped from the sad eye.
O Florence! had you forgotten them?
The Old Woman Who Lived in a Shoe; Or, There's No Place Like Home Page 16
