Maid Sally

by Harriet A. Cheever

  CHAPTER III.

  THE END OF FAIRY TOWN

  Sally had not heard the first part of the Fairy story, but what she hadheard was remembered, every word.

  And enough it was for her to know that some poor little child had beencharmed to rest in a Fairy's arms, and had wandered, in sweet dreams,off to Fairy Town.

  She went next day about her work scarcely thinking of what her handswere doing, and so full were her thoughts of the lovely flowers andmeadows of Fairy Town that she had paid no attention when Mammy Leezerstood talking with Mistress Brace.

  Even Mammy Leezer usually looked to her like a favored person, and alittle of the glamor, or charm, that was about everybody and everythingbelonging to Ingleside, was about Mammy Leezer, too. Several times theold woman had spoken to her, and Sally liked well the "sugary" sound ofher voice, as she called it in her own mind.

  But to-day so full was her mind of the Fairy book that she scrubbed awayat the steps never caring what was being said just beyond her, so shedid not know that it was what Mammy Leezer had said that made MistressCory Ann give her the whole long twilight and even-song to herself.

  It made no difference. Enough for her that, supper ended, off she couldfly, and in her own particular cubby between hedge and wall could hearmore of the beloved story.

  A very fortunate thing for Sally had happened a short time before this,although it might be that no one remembered it. Two or three greatstones had loosened at the top of the wall near the arbor, and afterrepairing, the workmen had left a couple of large stones, one on top ofthe other, between the hedge and the wall.

  This formed a grand seat for Sally, as after perching on the upper stoneher head was only a little below the wall, and distinctly she could hearwhat was said in the arbor. But she must needs push her way through thehedge at quite a little distance beyond the seat, where the stiffbranches were thinner, as at that particular spot they were of athickness to sadly tear her clothes and dreadfully scratch her skinshould she try to get through.

  But the little girl knew exactly where to worm her thin little body pastthe hedge, take a twist or two, and there she was, all the morecompletely hidden that the screen was so thick near her seat. It neveroccurred to her that perhaps she ought not to listen. Too untaught achild was Sally to know that, and, oh! the delight and comfort of itall!

  It has been said that Sally was imaginative, and a great thing it wasfor her, too. Because, don't you see, no matter how hard she might beworking, she could fancy, or imagine herself, floating off to Dreamlandin a Fairy's arms, even like the child in the story. Or, in her poorlittle attic room, she could imagine herself dressing up before a great,grand mirror, and getting ready for a party at Ingleside.

  Now, it has also been said that Sally was not pretty to look at, buthere is the truth of the matter: Sally had dull red hair, and a greatdeal of it. It was the kind of red that turned to ruddy gold when thesun shone on it. Her features were fine, straight, and what are called"well cut." Her eyes were a dark reddish brown, growing darker when shewas troubled or excited, hazel eyes, getting darker with every year ofher life. Then, strangely enough, both eyebrows and eyelashes werealmost black, and the lashes long and curling.

  But what child, pray, ever looked pretty, no matter how fine herfeatures, who was only half clean, wore poor, ill-fitting, unbecomingclothes, and whose matted hair might indeed have been a disordered wigmerely thrown on to her head?

  Sally's teeth had "come in" very evenly, and had she not been brown as alittle Indian from being out bareheaded in nearly all weathers, herskin would have been white and rosy red.

  So, see you can, that although the child looked plain, and even homely,she yet had "points," as we say, of great beauty. And then, althoughSally did not look like a brilliant child, she yet was "bright as adollar." That must mean a new silver dollar, which you know is verybright and sparkles in the light. Just as maid Sally would havebrightened and sparkled had she been in the light of a good home, withkind parents to teach her as a child needs to be taught.

  Oh, but not a word has yet been said about her heart, her dear, childishheart. Very well; it was a kind, warm, want-to-do-right kind of heart.And this it was that made the people of Slipside Row like poor littleSally; it was the good heart beating under her shabby little gown.

  It was a very sad thing that Sally could read only the smallest words,for her father had but taught her her letters when he was called away.She could neither write nor spell, and saddest of all,--Sally did notcare! This shows how little she knew about life, or what she needed mostto fit her for the right kind of a life.

  But the angels watch over good children, and Sally was soon to have heryoung eyes opened to things she did not see as yet. And after all, thereis an old, old saying that "blood will tell," and we do not know muchyet about the kind of blood that was running through Sally's veins.

  Now all her heart was bent on hearing the rest of the Fairy story, andfinding out what the happy child saw and did in Fairy Town. And soon asshe had eaten her supper, tried to coax down her thick, rumply hair, andsmooth her dress into some shape, off darted Sally for Ingleside, andtaking care that no one should see her enter,--she was ever carefulabout that,--like a rabbit she plunged through a thin spot in the hedge,and was soon on her rocky seat well up by the wall.

  In a few minutes there was a sound of voices in the garden, and therustle of soft gowns above her head. It was plain that Lionel Grandison,his sister Lucretia, and their cousin, Rosamond Earlscourt, had enteredthe arbor. A little light talk there was, then Lionel's rich, pleasantvoice took up the Fairy tale:

  "The days and the weeks flew by as if on wings of the wind, a soft,sweet wind! No pleasure was wanting in Fairy Town. There was no work, noworry, no rain, no cold, no great heat. The flowers gave food to thechild the same as to the bees and the birds. She sipped the clover-likesyrup of sweet-pea blossoms, tasted and liked the bitter-sweet of thepond-lily, loved the orris flavor of mignonette which she drank from thecup of the fairy-bell. She drew in the nectar of honeysuckle, and tastedthe Paradise flavor of the rose. A syrup that seemed as if from theGarden of Eden was made from spicy pinks, white violets, andvalley-lilies, mixed with morning dew.

  "After feasting until she was tired there came four white doves,harnessed to a light, silvery carriage, made of snowball flowers. Lightas air the child flew into the sweet, soft carriage, and was borne alongabove the flowers and bushes, but the doves did not fly too high, forfear of alarming the merry child.

  "When the soft twilight of Fairy Town came gently down, there appeared abed made of the feathers of the swan, so pure and white, the childfeared to lie down upon it. But the Fairy playfully tossed her on thedowny bed, then smiled to see how lovely it all appeared to the littleone that nestled down, and was all ready for rest after the delights ofFairy Town.

  "But the days passed on and on, and lo! who could believe it? The childgrew tired,--tired of the sweetness, the rest, the dove-drives, thedo-nothing, care-nothing ease of Fairy Town!

  "At first she could not believe so strange a thing was possible, andfeared lest she was only stupid and ungrateful. But, alas! the downy,flowery, too easy life became more and more tiresome until, in troubleand distress, she went to the Fairy with a look in her eyes that thewise Fairy understood. Yet she asked kindly:

  "'What is it, dear?'

  "'Ah, good Fairy, I fear that I am but a naughty, naughty child.'

  "'Have you done wrong?' asked the Fairy.

  "'No, I have meant to do nothing wrong, good Fairy.'

  "'Then, why feel troubled, dear? No one need really worry who has doneno wrong. Tell me, what aileth thee?'

  "'I have grown tired, dear Fairy.'

  "The Fairy smiled.

  "'Just as I knew you would,' she said.

  "'You knew I would?' The child's eyes opened wide in surprise.

  "'Yes; and shall I tell you why?'

  "'Please do.'

  "The beautiful face of the Fairy glowed with love and wisdom,
and tinysparks of light seemed to shoot forth from all about her head as shereplied:

  "'My little one, my precious one, truth is that every one who comesinto the world has some work to do, and happiness, and sweet content,can come only through doing it. In your home you had errands on which torun, and lessons to learn.

  "'Ah! there is the great secret of what young people need, and musthave, if ever they are going to be worth much in the world--lessons!

  "'But you did not like being useful, and doing the errands, nor did youwant to study and learn your lessons. And so you thought that you weretroubled and tired--only a fancy it was, however. So I wafted you toFairy Town, where all is quiet, downy, flowery, full of ease, luxury,and feasting.

  "'But, _because_ you have a mind to fill with useful, gloriousknowledge, and a life to fill with good deeds, you could not live soreally useless a round of nought but pleasure.

  "'Go back to sweet duty, dear one, and remember that Fairy Town is notfor a child of the great King of Heaven.'

  "Then the child awoke, and, lo! she thirsted for Fairy Town no longer."

  Lionel's pleasant voice ceased. For a moment it was quiet in the arbor,then there was a rustling sound, and Rosamond Earlscourt's clear voicerang out with a scornful note:

  "Oh, indeed! and, indeed! Then that is the reason it hath been told thatthis Fairy story is a good one for all to read, both old and young.Because it teacheth the need of learning, and of being useful in theworld. I call it stupid!"

  "I do not!" said Lionel; "how can one be fitted to live properly withouta good degree of learning? And who would wish to live without beinguseful?"

  "What mean you to do with all your wisdom?" laughingly asked his sisterLucretia.

  Lionel had wandered from the summer-house, and stood on a broad stonenear the edge of the wall. Sally could see him plainly, although therewas little clanger of his seeing her. His head was held erect as hepoised straight and strong, the look of a man in his face.

  "I hope," he replied, "to make the best use of any knowledge I may gainthat I possibly can. Every one should try to make the world better forhaving lived in it. And it is the learning that comes through study andbooks that one must have in order to rightly understand things. Ibethink me our country is going to need men of the right kind beforemany years are past."

  "The children of the poor cannot obtain the learning that comes throughbooks," said Rosamond; "prithee, how much must it be with them?"

  Lionel replied, stoutly:

  "The lad or the maid who is determined to learn, and have the rightplace in the world, can find the way! The lad or the maid who pushesthrough everything that would hinder, and _will get_ learning in spiteof difficulties, is the one to succeed and to be admired! We all mustpush our way. I mean to push mine!"

  He spoke fearlessly as there he stood, a fine lad in fine garments thathad been brought from across the sea; his fair, clinging hair had beenpushed back from his white forehead, for he would have none of the queueworn by many very young men in those days. His waistcoat was daintilyruffled down the front, and a fall of lace was about his hands. Abroad ring, with a clear white stone, glittered on one finger. Hisknee-breeches were of the finest gray linen, with gray satin bows andsilver buckles at the knee bands. He wore, also, long gray stockings,"clocked," or with wrought figures up the sides, and pumps of polishedleather with silver buckles in the rosettes.

  The son of a gentleman, standing in the even-light, the fire of theright kind of ambition, and a set purpose in voice and eye, the sunsetglow bringing out form and features like unto those of a young lord;and--down in the hedge, a poor, tangled, ill-kept little maid, gazingupon him even as she would have gazed upon a Prince in a Fairy story.

  "Oh, he is a Prince!" gasped Sally. "He is like a Fairy Prince. He is_my_ Fairy Prince!"

  Then the poor child flushed and trembled. The idea of having dared tothink of young Lionel Grandison, son of Sir Percival and Lady GabrielleGrandison, as belonging in the leastest degree to her, made her tinglewith a kind of awe.

  "Nobody knows it but just me," thought Sally, "and I _will_ have him formy Fairy Prince. I can, way down in my heart-place; oh, I must, and Iwill."

  She was very quiet for a few moments after that.

  Then, all at once, something woke up in Sally. Something that had neverawakened before. It was a sudden thought and knowledge of what she washerself.

  "Only just a know-nothing!" she whispered, "a poor little oldknow-nothing!" and she hung her head. "Can't read! Can't write! Can'tspell! Can't anything but just scrub and dub. Oh, he wouldn't speak tome, he wouldn't look at me! How sick my heart feels, and how tired Iam!"

  Then something else woke up in Sally. Something stirred in her heart forthe first time. She tugged at her wretched little dress as she repeated:

  "He said that the lad or the girl that was determined to get learningcould find a way. Did you hear _that_, Sally Dukeen?"