Hildegarde's Neighbors

by Laura Elizabeth Howe Richards

  CHAPTER X.

  A NEW LIFE.

  "Bell," said Hildegarde, "I really think I must be a cat indisguise."

  "What do you mean, dear?" inquired Bell, looking up from herdishpan.

  "Why, I have had so many lives. This is the fifth, at the leastcomputation. It is very extraordinary."

  Quiet Bell waited, seeing that more was coming. The two girls weresitting on the end of a wharf, in the sparkling clearness of aSeptember morning. Before them stretched a great lake, a sheet ofsilver, dotted as far as the eye could see with green islands.Behind lay a pebbly beach, and farther up, nestled among a fringeof forest trees, stood a bark hut, with broad verandahs andoverhanging eaves. Hildegarde looked up and around, her faceshining with pleasure.

  "They have all been so happy--the lives," she said. "But thissurely is the most beautiful to look at. You see," here she turnedagain to her companion, "first I was a little girl, and then a bigone, at home in New York; and a very singularly odious specimen ofboth I was."

  "Am I expected to believe this?" asked Bell, quietly.

  "Oh yes! because I know, you see, and I remember just howdetestable I was. Children are so sometimes, you know, even withthe very best parents, and I certainly had those. Well, at last Igrew so unbearable that I had to be sent away. Oh, you need notraise your eyebrows, my dear! It's very nice of you, but you neversaw me then. I don't mean that I was sent to the Reform School;but my father and mother had to go to California, and I was notstrong, so the journey was not thought best for me; and besides,dear mamma saw that if I was ever going to amount to anything Imust be taken away from the fashionable school and the set ofgirls I was getting intimate with. I wasn't intimate with mammathen; I didn't want to be. The other girls were not, and I thoughtit would be silly; think of it, Bell! Well, I was sent, a forlornand furious child (fifteen years old though, the same age as dear,sweet Gertrude), to my mother's old nurse in the country,--afarmer's wife, living on a small farm, twenty miles from a city.There, my dear, I first learned that there was a world outside thecity of New York. I must tell you all about it some day,--thehappy, blessed time I had with those dear people, and how Ilearned to know my own dearest ones while I was away from them. Iburied that first Hildegarde, very dead, oh, very dead indeed!Then the next summer I went to a new world, and my Rose went withme. I have told you about her, and how sweet she is, and how illshe was, and now how she is going to marry the good doctor whocured her of her lameness. We spent the summer with Cousin WealthyBond, a cousin of my mother's,--the loveliest old lady, livingdown in Maine. That was a very new world, Bell; and oh! I have achild there, a little boy, my Benny. At least, he is CousinWealthy's Benny now, for she is bringing him up as her own, andloves him really as if he were; but I always think of him aspartly mine, because Rose and I found him in the hospital where weused to go to carry flowers. He had been very ill, and we gotCousin Wealthy to let him come to her house to get well. Andthrough, that, somehow, there came to be a little convalescenthome for the children from the hospital,--oh, I must tell you thatstory too, some day, and it is called Joyous Gard. Yes, of courseI named it, and I was there for a month this spring, before youcame, and had the most enchanting time. I took Hugh with me, andthe only trouble was that Benny was madly jealous of him, and gavehim no peace. Poor Benny! he is a dear, nice little boy, but notlike Hugh, of course, and that exasperated him past belief. It wasjust like Lord Lardy and the waiter in the Bab Ballad, for Hughwas entirely unconscious, and would smile peacefully at Benny'sdemonstrations of wrath, thinking it all a joke.

  "Oh, I could talk all day about Benny and Cousin Wealthy, andnice, funny Mrs. Brett, and all of them. Well, then, two years agocame our trouble, you know. Dear papa died, and we came out here,feeling very strange and lost. It was sad at first, of course; butoh, we have had such peace and happiness together, my mother dearand I! The last year, when we had grown used to doing without thedear one, and knew--but mamma always knew it--that we must makehappiness for each other,--the last year has been a most lovelytime. But sweet and happy as it has all been, Bell, still I havealways had a small circle to love and to be with. Mamma, blessher, and at one time one set of dear friends, and at another timeanother; never many people at once, and life peaceful and lovely,but one day pretty much like another, you see. But since you allcame, I have been in a new world altogether,--a great, merry,laughing world, with such lots of children and fun--"

  "And noise!" put in Bell. "We are a dreadfully noisy set, I fear."

  "Oh, noise is good," cried Hildegarde, "such happy, healthy noiseas this. I love it, though it did startle me at first. It seemedpleasant enough to have you all next door; but then came this lastdevelopment,--Cousin Wealthy's illness, and her sending for mamma,and your mother's kindness in bringing me out to this delightfulplace. It is all like a fairy tale. I used to hear of people'scamping out, but I always thought I should hate it. Hate this!"

  She looked up at the brilliant sky above her, and around at theshining lake, the dark trees drooping to the water's edge, thegreen islands sleeping in the sunshine. "Oh, pleasant place!" shesighed.

  They were silent for a few moments; Bell was scouring dishpanstill they shone like silver, while Hildegarde thoughtfully wrungout the dishcloths that she had been washing as she talked.

  "I suppose," said Bell, slowly, "life is always good, when we wantto make it so. There are so many different kinds of life,--I haveknown so many in the short time I have been alive, and it didn'tseem to make much difference about the outside of them. Some ofthe poorest and most suffering lives have been the happiest andblessedest, and again some that have money and health andeverything that so many people sigh for, are miserable, for onereason or another. I can't bear to hear girls say, 'Oh, if I onlyhad money! I would do so much, and be so good, and all that sortof thing.' I always want to say, 'Why don't you begin with whatyou have?' I did say it once to a girl, and she has hardly spokento me since. She had been wishing that she had a hundred dollarsto give to the Mission Society, and when I asked her for ten cents(I was the collector) she said she had only one dime, and she mustget some soda water, or she should die."

  "The creature! what did you say to her?"

  "I said, 'Possibly the world would continue to revolve if youdid!' and stalked away. Oh, I cannot stand that sort of thing, youknow! And if you are a girl, you can't knock people down when theyare cads."

  Bell spoke regretfully, and Hildegarde could not help laughing ather friend's angry eyes and kindling cheek. The strong white barearms, the deep chest and square shoulders, looked as if Bell wouldbe no mean antagonist.

  "I should not like to have you knock me down, my dear!" saidHilda.

  "You never would need it," said Bell. "But I can tell you, Hilda,there are times when I feel as if a blow from the shoulder wouldbe the best argument in the world. I love fighting! and I think Iam rather a bonny fighter, as Alan Breck says. Roger taught me tobox."

  Hildegarde opened her eyes a little at this, boxing never havingcome within her horizon of feminine accomplishments.

  "Does Professor Merryweather know how to do everything?" sheasked. "He seems to be the Admirable Crichton come to life again."

  "Nearly everything," said Bell, with judicious candour. "He cannotwrite verses, and he does not like dancing; those are the onlythings I can think of just now."

  A birch canoe glided silently round the point; Roger was kneelingin the stern, paddling, Indian fashion, while Will and Kitty werecurled up like two kittens in the bow. Hildegarde thought toherself that he was the handsomest man she had ever seen, sostrong, so gentle, so perfectly graceful; but she did not say so.

  "What luck?" cried Bell, as the Cheemaun came alongside the wharf.Roger held up a string of gleaming fish, two of them long, deep-bodied fellows, striped with pink and silver. Willy was happy withthree hideous horned pouts, which he declared were the best fishthat swam.

  "Oh, pickerel! how delightful!" cried Bell, as she took thebeauties from her brother's hands. "We will bake t
hem for supper,Hilda; it is our turn, isn't it?"

  "Oh!" said Willy, "I thought it was Toots' and Roger's turn. Tootsmakes the best griddle-cakes, and she ought always to get supper."

  "Willy, you ungrateful little monster!" cried Bell. "And you saidonly last night that my biscuits were a dream of joy. You won'tfind me baking an extra pan for you, if you are going to turn uponme in this way."

  "Oh yes! so you did, sister," said Willy, penitently. "But yousee, I am griddle-cake hungry to-day, and yesterday I wasn't."

  "Come, Hilda! we'll make our little gentleman pickerel-hungrybefore he is an hour older!" and the two girls hurried into thehouse.

  Inside the camp was a large, low room, with a huge open fireplacefilling nearly one side. A plain table stood in the middle; twohammocks were slung against the walls, which were hung with gunsand fishing-rods. A bookcase in one corner, and Mrs.Merryweather's workstand in another, completed the furniture ofthe primitive parlour. On one side a door opened into the tinykitchen, and hither the girls now betook themselves, afterreminding Will and Kitty that it was their turn to set the suppertable. The fire was soon burning brightly in the stove, the kettleput on to boil, and Hildegarde, rolling up her sleeves, set towork mixing and moulding biscuits, while Bell devoted herself tothe stuffing and dressing of the big fish.

  "I wish I had Izaak Walton here!" she said, as she mixed the breadstuffing.

  "Father Izaak pleasant company would be at any moment," Hildaassented; "but what do you want him for just now? To cook the fishfor you?"

  "Not exactly; I doubt if he was as good in the kitchen as by thebrookside; but to give me his famous receipt for cooking pickerel.I should like to astonish the family with it. I remember that ithas thyme in it, and sweet marjoram and summer savory, not tomention oysters and anchovies, a pound of butter, a bottle ofclaret and three or four oranges; he gives you your choice abouttwo cloves of garlic, and says you need not have them unless youlike. Perhaps on the whole it is just as well not to try the dishat present; the anchovies were left behind, and the orange treesare not bearing very well this year."

  "Dear me!" said Hildegarde. "That is as bad as my Southern receiptfor wedding cake. Two hundred and one pounds of flour and fruit,and ten eggs to the pound; and if it isn't rich enough then, youcan add two pounds of currants and one of raisins for each poundof flour. That would make,--let me see! I worked it all out once:two hundred and seventy pounds of things, and two thousand sevenhundred eggs. What do you suppose they baked it in?"

  "In the well!" said Bell. "That would hold it. Or else they builta pavilion round it, and had the bride and groom dance a minuet onthe top after the ceremony. What fun cook-books are! Any morepleasantnesses in your Southern friend?"

  "Oh, all kinds of good things! I remember the receipt for Seminolesoup; we ought to try that out here, if we could find theingredients. 'Take a squirrel, cut it up and put it on to boil.When the soup is nearly done add to it one pint of picked hickory-nuts and a spoonful of parched and powdered sassafras leaves, orthe tender top of a young pine tree, which gives a very aromaticflavour to the soup.'"

  "Oh, do somebody get us a pine tree!" cried Bell. "That is trulydelightful! We must try it some day. Now it is my turn. I quotefrom Mrs. Rundell the glorious. This is what she gives to thepoor; I don't want to be poor in Mrs. Rundell's parish.

  "'Cut a very thick upper crust of bread, and put it into the potwhere salt beef is boiling and near ready; it will attract some ofthe fat, and, when swelled out, will be no unpalatable dish tothose who rarely taste meat.' That is called a brewis, my dear;suppose we give it to our pampered family here some day, and seewhat they say. How nearly are your biscuits done? I hear thepeople growling inside, like hungry bears. Uncle Pickerel isbeginning to smell very good."

  "Another five minutes will give them the requisite 'beautifullight brown'" said Hildegarde, peeping into the oven. "And the teais made, and the potatoes are tearing off their jackets inimpatience to be eaten."

  "Are we going to have any supper?" asked Phil, looking in from thedining-room. "Roger has fainted with hunger, and lies a pallidheap on the floor, and Obadiah is gnawing his boots in his agony."

  "As long as he does not swallow the nails," said Bell, calmly, "itwill do him no harm. Have the babes got the table ready?"

  "All ready, sister!" cried Kitty. "Cups and saucers and plates,and--oh, Willy, we have forgotten the butter! Why do we alwaysforget the butter?"

  In five minutes the whole family were seated round the table, withthe lamp burning brightly above their heads. Bell came intriumphantly, bearing the mighty pickerel in their glory, on ahuge platter decorated with green leaves and golden-rod.Hildegarde followed, flushed and sparkling, with her biscuits andcoffee; and every one fell to with right good will.

  "Why is it that everything tastes so good here?" demanded Will."At home I can't always eat as much as I want to, and here I canalways eat more than there is; and yet there is lots!" he added,surveying the broad table, heaped with substantial victuals ofevery sort.

  "Ah! that's the beauty of it!" cried Gerald, spearing a potato."The human capacity enlarges, my son, with every mile one retiresfrom civilisation. When I was a Kickapoo Indian, Willy, I ate forthree weeks without stopping, and I had three buffaloes at a--"

  "Gerald, my dear!" said Mrs. Merryweather.

  "Yes, Mater, my dear!" said the unblushing Gerald. "I was onlytrying to expand his mind, like the Ninkum. Excellent biscuits,Miss Hilda! three more, if you please."