Jack and Jill

by Louisa May Alcott

  Chapter XV. Saint Lucy

  Saturday was a busy and a happy time to Jack, for in the morning Mr.Acton came to see him, having heard the story overnight, and promisedto keep Bob's secret while giving Jack an acquittal as public as thereprimand had been. Then he asked for the report which Jack had bravelyreceived the day before and put away without showing to anybody.

  "There is one mistake here which we must rectify," said Mr. Acton, ashe crossed out the low figures under the word "Behavior," and put themuch-desired 100 there.

  "But I did break the rule, sir," said Jack, though his face glowed withpleasure, for Mamma was looking on.

  "I overlook that as I should your breaking into my house if you saw itwas on fire. You ran to save a friend, and I wish I could tell thosefellows why you were there. It would do them good. I am not going topraise you, John, but I did believe you in spite of appearances, andI am glad to have for a pupil a boy who loves his neighbor better thanhimself."

  Then, having shaken hands heartily, Mr. Acton went away, and Jackflew off to have rejoicings with Jill, who sat up on her sofa, withoutknowing it, so eager was she to hear all about the call.

  In the afternoon Jack drove his mother to the Captain's, confiding toher on the way what a hard time he had when he went before, and hownothing but the thought of cheering Bob kept him up when he slipped andhurt his knee, and his boot sprung a leak, and the wind came up verycold, and the hill seemed an endless mountain of mud and snow.

  Mrs. Minot had such a gentle way of putting things that she would havewon over a much harder man than the strict old Captain, who heard thestory with interest, and was much pleased with the boys' efforts to keepBob straight. That young person dodged away into the barn with Jack, andonly appeared at the last minute to shove a bag of chestnuts into thechaise. But he got a few kind words that did him good, from Mrs. Minotand the Captain, and from that day felt himself under bonds to behavewell if he would keep their confidence.

  "I shall give Jill the nuts; and I wish I had something she wanted very,very much, for I do think she ought to be rewarded for getting me out ofthe mess," said Jack, as they drove happily home again.

  "I hope to have something in a day or two that _will_ delight her verymuch. I will say no more now, but keep my little secret and let it be asurprise to all by and by," answered his mother, looking as if she hadnot much doubt about the matter.

  "That will be jolly. You are welcome to your secret, Mamma. I've hadenough of them for one while;" and Jack shrugged his broad shoulders asif a burden had been taken off.

  In the evening Ed came, and Jack was quite satisfied when he saw howpleased his friend was at what he had done.

  "I never meant you should take so much trouble, only be kind to Bob,"said Ed, who did not know how strong his influence was, nor what a sweetexample of quiet well-doing his own life was to all his mates.

  "I wished to be really useful; not just to talk about it and do nothing.That isn't your way, and I want to be like you," answered Jack, withsuch affectionate sincerity that Ed could not help believing him, thoughhe modestly declined the compliment by saying, as he began to playsoftly, "Better than I am, I hope. I don't amount to much."

  "Yes, you do! and if any one says you don't I'll shake him. I can't tellwhat it is, only you always look so happy and contented--sort of sweetand shiny," said Jack, as he stroked the smooth brown head, rather at aloss to describe the unusually fresh and sunny expression of Ed's face,which was always cheerful, yet had a certain thoughtfulness that made itvery attractive to both young and old.

  "Soap makes him shiny; I never saw such a fellow to wash and brush," putin Frank, as he came up with one of the pieces of music he and Ed werefond of practising together.

  "I don't mean that!" said Jack indignantly. "I wash and brush till youcall me a dandy, but I don't have the same look--it seems to come fromthe inside, somehow, as if he was always jolly and clean and good in hismind, you know."

  "Born so," said Frank, rumbling away in the bass with a pair of handsthat would have been the better for some of the above-mentioned soap,for he did not love to do much in the washing and brushing line.

  "I suppose that's it. Well, I like it, and I shall keep on trying, forbeing loved by every one is about the nicest thing in the world. Isn'tit, Ed?" asked Jack, with a gentle tweak of the ear as he put a questionwhich he knew would get no answer, for Ed was so modest he could not seewherein he differed from other boys, nor believe that the sunshine hesaw in other faces was only the reflection from his own.

  Sunday evening Mrs. Minot sat by the fire, planning how she should tellsome good news she had been saving up all day. Mrs. Pecq knew it, andseemed so delighted that she went about smiling as if she did not knowwhat trouble meant, and could not do enough for the family. She wasdownstairs now, seeing that the clothes were properly prepared for thewash, so there was no one in the Bird Room but Mamma and the children.Frank was reading up all he could find about some Biblical heromentioned in the day's sermon; Jill lay where she had lain for nearlyfour long months, and though her face was pale and thin with theconfinement, there was an expression on it now sweeter even than health.Jack sat on the rug beside her, looking at a white carnation through themagnifying glass, while she was enjoying the perfume of a red one as shetalked to him.

  "If you look at the white petals you'll see that they sparkle likemarble, and go winding a long way down to the middle of the flowerwhere it grows sort of rosy; and in among the small, curly leaves, likefringed curtains, you can see the little green fairy sitting all alone.Your mother showed me that, and I think it is very pretty. I call it a'fairy,' but it is really where the seeds are hidden and the sweet smellcomes from."

  Jill spoke softly lest she should disturb the others, and, as she turnedto push up her pillow, she saw Mrs. Minot looking at her with a smileshe did not understand.

  "Did you speak, 'm?" she asked, smiling back again, without in the leastknowing why.

  "No, dear. I was listening and thinking what a pretty little story onecould make out of your fairy living alone down there, and only known byher perfume."

  "Tell it, Mamma. It is time for our story, and that would be a nice one,I guess," said Jack, who was as fond of stories as when he sat in hismother's lap and chuckled over the hero of the beanstalk.

  "We don't have fairy tales on Sunday, you know," began Jill regretfully.

  "Call it a parable, and have a moral to it, then it will be all right,"put in Frank, as he shut his big book, having found what he wanted.

  "I like stories about saints, and the good and wonderful things theydid," said Jill, who enjoyed the wise and interesting bits Mrs. Minotoften found for her in grown-up books, for Jill had thoughtful times,and asked questions which showed that she was growing fast in mind ifnot in body.

  "This is a true story; but I will disguise it a little, and call it 'TheMiracle of Saint Lucy,'" began Mrs. Minot, seeing a way to tell her goodnews and amuse the children likewise.

  Frank retired to the easy-chair, that he might sleep if the tale shouldprove too childish for him. Jill settled herself among her cushions, andJack lay flat upon the rug, with his feet up, so that he could admirehis red slippers and rest his knee, which ached.

  "Once upon a time there was a queen who had two princes."

  "Wasn't there a princess?" asked Jack, interested at once.

  "No; and it was a great sorrow to the queen that she had no littledaughter, for the sons were growing up, and she was often very lonely.

  "Like Snowdrop's mother," whispered Jill.

  "Now, don't keep interrupting, children, or we never shall get on," saidFrank, more anxious to hear about the boys that were than the girl thatwas not.

  "One day, when the princes were out--ahem! we'll say hunting--they founda little damsel lying on the snow, half dead with cold, they thought.She was the child of a poor woman who lived in the forest--a wild littlething, always dancing and singing about; as hard to catch as a squirrel,and so fearless she would climb the h
ighest trees, leap broad brooks, orjump off the steep rocks to show her courage. The boys carried her hometo the palace, and the queen was glad to have her. She had fallen andhurt herself, so she lay in bed week after week, with her mother to takecare of her--"

  "That's you," whispered Jack, throwing the white carnation at Jill, andshe threw back the red one, with her finger on her lips, for the talewas very interesting now.

  "She did not suffer much after a time, but she scolded and cried, andcould not be resigned, because she was a prisoner. The queen tried tohelp her, but she could not do much; the princes were kind, but they hadtheir books and plays, and were away a good deal. Some friends she hadcame often to see her, but still she beat her wings against the bars,like a wild bird in a cage, and soon her spirits were all gone, and itwas sad to see her."

  "Where was your Saint Lucy? I thought it was about her," asked Jack,who did not like to have Jill's past troubles dwelt upon, since his werenot.

  "She is coming. Saints are not born--they are made after many trials andtribulations," answered his mother, looking at the fire as if ithelped her to spin her little story. "Well, the poor child used to singsometimes to while away the long hours--sad songs mostly, and one amongthem which the queen taught her was 'Sweet Patience, Come.'

  "This she used to sing a great deal after a while, never dreaming thatPatience was an angel who could hear and obey. But it was so; and onenight, when the girl had lulled herself to sleep with that song, theangel came. Nobody saw the lovely spirit with tender eyes, and a voicethat was like balm. No one heard the rustle of wings as she hovered overthe little bed and touched the lips, the eyes, the hands of the sleeper,and then flew away, leaving three gifts behind. The girl did not knowwhy, but after that night the songs grew gayer, there seemed to be moresunshine everywhere her eyes looked, and her hands were never tired ofhelping others in various pretty, useful, or pleasant ways. Slowly thewild bird ceased to beat against the bars, but sat in its cage and mademusic for all in the palace, till the queen could not do without it,the poor mother cheered up, and the princes called the girl theirnightingale."

  "Was that the miracle?" asked Jack, forgetting all about his slippers,as he watched Jill's eyes brighten and the color come up in her whitecheeks.

  "That was the miracle, and Patience can work far greater ones if youwill let her."

  "And the girl's name was Lucy?"

  "Yes; they did not call her a saint then, but she was trying to be ascheerful as a certain good woman she had heard of, and so the queen hadthat name for her, though she did not let her know it for a long time."

  "That's not bad for a Sunday story, but there might have been moreabout the princes, seems to me," was Frank's criticism, as Jill layvery still, trying to hide her face behind the carnation, for she hadno words to tell how touched and pleased she was to find that her littleefforts to be good had been seen, remembered, and now rewarded in thisway.

  "There is more."

  "Then the story isn't done?" cried Jack.

  "Oh dear, no; the most interesting things are to come, if you can waitfor them."

  "Yes, I see, this is the moral part. Now keep still, and let us havethe rest," commanded Frank, while the others composed themselves for thesequel, suspecting that it was rather nice, because Mamma's sober facechanged, and her eyes laughed as they looked at the fire.

  "The elder prince was very fond of driving dragons, for the people ofthat country used these fiery monsters as horses."

  "And got run away with, didn't he?" laughed Jack, adding, with greatinterest, "What did the other fellow do?"

  "He went about fighting other people's battles, helping the poor, andtrying to do good. But he lacked judgment, so he often got into trouble,and was in such a hurry that he did not always stop to find out thewisest way. As when he gave away his best coat to a beggar boy, insteadof the old one which he intended to give."

  "I say, that isn't fair, mother! Neither of them was new, and the boyneeded the best more than I did, and I wore the old one all winter,didn't I?" asked Jack, who had rather exulted over Frank, and was nowtaken down himself.

  "Yes, you did, my dear; and it was not an easy thing for my dandiprat todo. Now listen, and I'll tell you how they both learned to be wiser. Theelder prince soon found that the big dragons were too much for him, andset about training his own little one, who now and then ran away withhim. Its name was Will, a good servant, but a bad master; so he learnedto control it, and in time this gave him great power over himself, andfitted him to be a king over others."

  "Thank you, mother; I'll remember my part of the moral. Now give Jackhis," said Frank, who liked the dragon episode, as he had been wrestlingwith his own of late, and found it hard to manage.

  "He had a fine example before him in a friend, and he followed it morereasonably till he grew able to use wisely one of the best and noblestgifts of God--benevolence."

  "Now tell about the girl. Was there more to that part of the story?"asked Jack, well pleased with his moral, as it took Ed in likewise.

  "That is the best of all, but it seems as if I never should get to it.After Patience made Lucy sweet and cheerful, she began to have a curiouspower over those about her, and to work little miracles herself, thoughshe did not know it. The queen learned to love her so dearly she couldnot let her go; she cheered up all her friends when they came with theirsmall troubles; the princes found bright eyes, willing hands, and a kindheart always at their service, and felt, without quite knowing why, thatit was good for them to have a gentle little creature to care for; sothey softened their rough manners, loud voices, and careless ways, forher sake, and when it was proposed to take her away to her own home theycould not give her up, but said she must stay longer, didn't they?"

  "I'd like to see them saying anything else," said Frank, while Jack satup to demand fiercely,--

  "Who talks about taking Jill away?"

  "Lucy's mother thought she ought to go, and said so, but the queen toldher how much good it did them all to have her there, and begged thedear woman to let her little cottage and come and be housekeeper in thepalace, for the queen was getting lazy, and liked to sit and read, andtalk and sew with Lucy, better than to look after things."

  "And she said she would?" cried Jill, clasping her hands in her anxiety,for she had learned to love her cage now.

  "Yes." Mrs. Minot had no time to say more, for one of the red slippersflew up in the air, and Jack had to clap both hands over his mouth tosuppress the "hurrah!" that nearly escaped. Frank said, "That's good!"and nodded with his most cordial smile at Jill who pulled herself upwith cheeks now as rosy as the red carnation, and a little catch in herbreath as she said to herself,--

  "It's too lovely to be true."

  "That's a first-rate end to a very good story," began Jack, with gravedecision, as he put on his slipper and sat up to pat Jill's hand,wishing it was not quite so like a little claw.

  "That's not the end;" and Mamma's eyes laughed more than ever as threeastonished faces turned to her, and three voices cried out,--

  "Still more?"

  "The very best of all. You must know that, while Lucy was busy forothers, she was not forgotten, and when she was expecting to lie on herbed through the summer, plans were being made for all sorts of pleasantchanges. First of all, she was to have a nice little brace to supportthe back which was growing better every day; then, as the warm weathercame on, she was to go out, or lie on the piazza; and by and by, whenschool was done, she was to go with the queen and the princes for amonth or two down to the sea-side, where fresh air and salt water wereto build her up in the most delightful way. There, now! isn't that thebest ending of all?" and Mamma paused to read her answer in the brightfaces of two of the listeners, for Jill hid hers in the pillow, and layquite still, as if it was too much for her.

  "That will be regularly splendid! I'll row you all about--boating is somuch easier than riding, and I like it on salt water," said Frank, goingto sit on the arm of the sofa, quite excited by the charms of the
newplan.

  "And I'll teach you to swim, and roll you over the beach, and getsea-weed and shells, and no end of nice things, and we'll all come homeas strong as lions," added Jack, scrambling up as if about to set off atonce.

  "The doctor says you have been doing finely of late, and the brace willcome to-morrow, and the first really mild day you are to have a breathof fresh air. Won't that be good?" asked Mrs. Minot, hoping her storyhad not been too interesting.

  "Is she crying?" said Jack, much concerned as he patted the pillow inhis most soothing way, while Frank lifted one curl after another to seewhat was hidden underneath.

  Not tears, for two eyes sparkled behind the fingers, then the handscame down like clouds from before the sun, and Jill's face shone out sobright and happy it did one's heart good to see it.

  "I'm not crying," she said with a laugh which was fuller of blithe musicthan any song she sung. "But it was so splendid, it sort of took mybreath away for a minute. I thought I wasn't any better, and nevershould be, and I made up my mind I wouldn't ask, it would be so hard forany one to tell me so. Now I see why the doctor made me stand up, andtold me to get my baskets ready to go a-Maying. I thought he was in fun;did he really mean I could go?" asked Jill, expecting too much, for aword of encouragement made her as hopeful as she had been despondentbefore.

  "No, dear, not so soon as that. It will be months, probably, before youcan walk and run, as you used to; but they will soon pass. You needn'tmind about May-day; it is always too cold for flowers, and you willfind more here among your own plants, than on the hills, to fill yourbaskets," answered Mrs. Minot, hastening to suggest something pleasantto beguile the time of probation.

  "I can wait. Months are not years, and if I'm truly getting well,everything will seem beautiful and easy to me," said Jill, layingherself down again, with the patient look she had learned to wear, andgathering up the scattered carnations to enjoy their spicy breath, as ifthe fairies hidden there had taught her some of their sweet secrets.

  "Dear little girl, it has been a long, hard trial for you, but it iscoming to an end, and I think you will find that it has not been timewasted, I don't want you to be a saint quite yet, but I am sure agentler Jill will rise up from that sofa than the one who lay down therein December."

  "How could I help growing better, when you were so good to me?" criedJill, putting up both arms, as Mrs. Minot went to take Frank's place,and he retired to the fire, there to stand surveying the scene with calmapproval.

  "You have done quite as much for us; so we are even. I proved that toyour mother, and she is going to let the little house and take care ofthe big one for me, while I borrow you to keep me happy and make theboys gentle and kind. That is the bargain, and we get the best of it,"said Mrs. Minot, looking well pleased, while Jack added, "That's so!"and Frank observed with an air of conviction, "We couldn't get onwithout Jill, possibly."

  "Can I do all that? I didn't know I was of any use. I only tried to begood and grateful, for there didn't seem to be anything else I coulddo," said Jill, wondering why they were all so fond of her.

  "No real trying is ever in vain. It is like the spring rain, and flowersare sure to follow in good time. The three gifts Patience gave SaintLucy were courage, cheerfulness, and love, and with these one can workthe sweetest miracles in the world, as you see," and Mrs. Minot pointedto the pretty room and its happy inmates.

  "Am I really the least bit like that good Lucinda? I tried to be, but Ididn't think I was," asked Jill softly.

  "You are very like her in all ways but one. _She_ did not get well, and_you_ will."

  A short answer, but it satisfied Jill to her heart's core, and thatnight, when she lay in bed, she thought to herself: "How curious it isthat I've been a sort of missionary without knowing it! They alllove and thank me, and won't let me go, so I suppose I must havedone something, but I don't know what, except trying to be good andpleasant."

  That was the secret, and Jill found it out just when it was mostgrateful as a reward for past efforts, most helpful as an encouragementtoward the constant well-doing which can make even a little girl a joyand comfort to all who know and love her.