Jack and Jill

by Louisa May Alcott

  Chapter XVIII. May Baskets

  Spring was late that year, but to Jill it seemed the loveliest she hadever known, for hope was growing green and strong in her own littleheart, and all the world looked beautiful. With the help of the braceshe could sit up for a short time every day, and when the air was mildenough she was warmly wrapped and allowed to look out at the open windowinto the garden, where the gold and purple crocuses were coming bravelyup, and the snowdrops nodded their delicate heads as if calling toher,--

  "Good day, little sister, come out and play with us, for winter is overand spring is here."

  "I wish I could!" thought Jill, as the soft wind kissed a tinge of colorinto her pale cheeks. "Never mind, they have been shut up in a darkerplace than I for months, and had no fun at all; I won't fret, but thinkabout July and the seashore while I work."

  The job now in hand was May baskets, for it was the custom of thechildren to hang them on the doors of their friends the night beforeMay-day; and the girls had agreed to supply baskets if the boys wouldhunt for flowers, much the harder task of the two. Jill had more leisureas well as taste and skill than the other girls, so she amused herselfwith making a goodly store of pretty baskets of all shapes, sizes, andcolors, quite confident that they would be filled, though not a flowerhad shown its head except a few hardy dandelions, and here and there asmall cluster of saxifrage.

  The violets would not open their blue eyes till the sunshine was warmer,the columbines refused to dance with the boisterous east wind, the fernskept themselves rolled up in their brown flannel jackets, and littleHepatica, with many another spring beauty, hid away in the woods, afraidto venture out, in spite of the eager welcome awaiting them. But thebirds had come, punctual as ever, and the bluejays were screaming inthe orchard, robins were perking up their heads and tails as they wenthouse-hunting, purple finches in their little red hoods were feastingon the spruce buds, and the faithful chip birds chirped gayly on thegrapevine trellis where they had lived all winter, warming their littlegray breasts against the southern side of the house when the sun shone,and hiding under the evergreen boughs when the snow fell.

  "That tree is a sort of bird's hotel," said Jill, looking out at thetall spruce before her window, every spray now tipped with a soft green."They all go there to sleep and eat, and it has room for every one. Itis green when other trees die, the wind can't break it, and the snowonly makes it look prettier. It sings to me, and nods as if it knew Iloved it."

  "We might call it 'The Holly Tree Inn,' as some of the cheapeating-houses for poor people are called in the city, as my holly bushgrows at its foot for a sign. You can be the landlady, and feed yourfeathery customers every day, till the hard times are over," said Mrs.Minot, glad to see the child's enjoyment of the outer world from whichshe had been shut so long.

  Jill liked the fancy, and gladly strewed crumbs on the window ledgefor the chippies, who came confidingly to eat almost from her hand.She threw out grain for the handsome jays, the jaunty robins, and theneighbors' doves, who came with soft flight to trip about on their pinkfeet, arching their shining necks as they cooed and pecked. Carrotsand cabbage-leaves also flew out of the window for the marauding grayrabbit, last of all Jack's half-dozen, who led him a weary life of itbecause they would _not_ stay in the Bunny-house, but undermined thegarden with their burrows, ate the neighbors' plants, and refused tobe caught till all but one ran away, to Jack's great relief. This oldfellow camped out for the winter, and seemed to get on very well amongthe cats and the hens, who shared their stores with him, and he mightbe seen at all hours of the day and night scampering about the place, orkicking up his heels by moonlight, for he was a desperate poacher.

  Jill took great delight in her pretty pensioners, who soon learned tolove "The Holly Tree Inn," and to feel that the Bird Room held a cagedcomrade; for, when it was too cold or wet to open the windows, the dovescame and tapped at the pane, the chippies sat on the ledge in plumplittle bunches as if she were their sunshine, the jays called her intheir shrill voices to ring the dinner-bell, and the robins tilted onthe spruce boughs where lunch was always to be had.

  The first of May came on Sunday, so all the celebrating must be done onSaturday, which happily proved fair, though too chilly for muslin gowns,paper garlands, and picnics on damp grass. Being a holiday, the boysdecided to devote the morning to ball and the afternoon to the flowerhunt, while the girls finished the baskets; and in the evening ourparticular seven were to meet at the Minots to fill them, ready for theclosing frolic of hanging on door-handles, ringing bells, and runningaway.

  "Now I must do my Maying, for there will be no more sunshine, and I wantto pick my flowers before it is dark. Come, Mammy, you go too," saidJill, as the last sunbeams shone in at the western window where herhyacinths stood that no fostering ray might be lost.

  It was rather pathetic to see the once merry girl who used to be thelife of the wood-parties now carefully lifting herself from the couch,and, leaning on her mother's strong arm, slowly take the half-dozensteps that made up her little expedition. But she was happy, and stoodsmiling out at old Bun skipping down the walk, the gold-edged cloudsthat drew apart so that a sunbeam might give her a good-night kiss asshe gathered her long-cherished daisies, primroses, and hyacinths tofill the pretty basket in her hand.

  "Who is it for, my dearie?" asked her mother, standing behind her asa prop, while the thin fingers did their work so willingly that not aflower was left.

  "For My Lady, of course. Who else would I give my posies to, when I lovethem so well?" answered Jill, who thought no name too fine for theirbest friend.

  "I fancied it would be for Master Jack," said her mother, wishing theexcursion to be a cheerful one.

  "I've another for him, but _she_ must have the prettiest. He is going tohang it for me, and ring and run away, and she won't know who it's fromtill she sees this. She will remember it, for I've been turning andtending it ever so long, to make it bloom to-day. Isn't it a beauty?"and Jill held up her finest hyacinth, which seemed to ring its palepink bells as if glad to carry its sweet message from a grateful littleheart.

  "Indeed it is; and you are right to give your best to her. Come awaynow, you must not stand any longer. Come and rest while I fetch a dishto put the flowers in till you want them;" and Mrs. Pecq turned herround with her small Maying safely done.

  "I didn't think I'd ever be able to do even so much, and here I amwalking and sitting up, and going to drive some day. Isn't it nice thatI'm not to be a poor Lucinda after all?" and Jill drew a long sigh ofrelief that six months instead of twenty years would probably be the endof her captivity.

  "Yes, thank Heaven! I don't think I _could_ have borne that;" and themother took Jill in her arms as if she were a baby, holding her closefor a minute, and laying her down with a tender kiss that made the armscling about her neck as her little girl returned it heartily, for allsorts of new, sweet feelings seemed to be budding in both, born of greatjoy and thankfulness.

  Then Mrs. Pecq hurried away to see about tea for the hungry boys, andJill watched the pleasant twilight deepen as she lay singing to herselfone of the songs her friend taught her because it fitted her so well.

  "A little bird I am, Shut from the fields of air, And in my cage I sit and sing To Him who placed me there: Well pleased a prisoner to be, Because, my God, it pleases Thee!

  "Naught have I else to do; I sing the whole day long; And He whom most I love to please Doth listen to my song, He caught and bound my wandering wing, But still He bends to hear me sing."

  "Now we are ready for you, so bring on your flowers," said Molly to theboys, as she and Merry added their store of baskets to the gay show Jillhad set forth on the long table ready for the evening's work.

  "They wouldn't let me see one, but I guess they have had good luck,they look so jolly," answered Jill, looking at Gus, Frank, and Jack, whostood laughing, each with a large basket in his hands.

  "Fair to middling. Just look in and see;" with which cheerful remark Gustipped u
p his basket and displayed a few bits of green at the bottom.

  "I did better. Now, don't all scream at once over these beauties;" andFrank shook out some evergreen sprigs, half a dozen saxifrages, and twoor three forlorn violets with hardly any stems.

  "I don't brag, but here's the best of all the three," chuckled Jack,producing a bunch of feathery carrot-tops, with a few half-shutdandelions trying to look brave and gay.

  "Oh, boys, is that all?"

  "What _shall_ we do?"

  "We've only a few house-flowers, and all those baskets to fill," criedthe girls, in despair; for Merry's contribution had been small, andMolly had only a handful of artificial flowers "to fill up," she said.

  "It isn't our fault: it is the late spring. We can't make flowers, canwe?" asked Frank, in a tone of calm resignation.

  "Couldn't you buy some, then?" said Molly, smoothing her crumpledmorning-glories, with a sigh.

  "Who ever heard of a fellow having any money left the last day of themonth?" demanded Gus, severely.

  "Or girls either. I spent all mine in ribbon and paper for my baskets,and now they are of no use. It's a shame!" lamented Jill, while Merrybegan to thin out her full baskets to fill the empty ones.

  "Hold on!" cried Frank, relenting. "Now, Jack, make their minds easybefore they begin to weep and wail."

  "Left the box outside. You tell while I go for it;" and Jack bolted, asif afraid the young ladies might be too demonstrative when the tale wastold.

  "Tell away," said Frank, modestly passing the story along to Gus, whomade short work of it.

  "We rampaged all over the country, and got only that small mess ofgreens. Knew you'd be disgusted, and sat down to see what we could do.Then Jack piped up, and said he'd show us a place where we could geta plenty. 'Come on,' said we, and after leading us a nice tramp, hebrought us out at Morse's greenhouse. So we got a few on tick, as we hadbut four cents among us, and there you are. Pretty clever of the littlechap, wasn't it?"

  A chorus of delight greeted Jack as he popped his head in, was promptlyseized by his elders and walked up to the table, where the box wasopened, displaying gay posies enough to fill most of the baskets ifdistributed with great economy and much green.

  "You are the dearest boy that ever was!" began Jill, with her noseluxuriously buried in the box, though the flowers were more remarkablefor color than perfume.

  "No, I'm not; there's a much dearer one coming upstairs now, and he'sgot something that will make you howl for joy," said Jack, ignoring hisown prowess as Ed came in with a bigger box, looking as if he had donenothing but go a Maying all his days.

  "Don't believe it!" cried Jill, hugging her own treasure jealously."It's only another joke. I won't look," said Molly, still struggling tomake her cambric roses bloom again.

  "I know what it is! Oh, how sweet!" added Merry, sniffing, as Ed set thebox before her, saying pleasantly,--

  "You shall see first, because you had faith."

  Up went the cover, and a whiff of the freshest fragrance regaled theseven eager noses bent to inhale it, as a general murmur of pleasuregreeted the nest of great, rosy mayflowers that lay before them.

  "The dear things, how lovely they are!" and Merry looked as if greetingher cousins, so blooming and sweet was her own face.

  Molly pushed her dingy garlands away, ashamed of such poor attemptsbeside these perfect works of nature, and Jill stretched out her handinvoluntarily, as she said, forgetting her exotics, "Give me just one tosmell of, it is so woodsy and delicious."

  "Here you are, plenty for all. Real Pilgrim Fathers, right fromPlymouth. One of our fellows lives there, and I told him to bring me agood lot; so he did, and you can do what you like with them," explainedEd, passing round bunches and shaking the rest in a mossy pile upon thetable.

  "Ed always gets ahead of us in doing the right thing at the right time.Hope you've got some first-class baskets ready for him," said Gus,refreshing the Washingtonian nose with a pink blossom or two.

  "Not much danger of _his_ being forgotten," answered Molly; andevery one laughed, for Ed was much beloved by all the girls, and hisdoor-steps always bloomed like a flower-bed on May eve.

  "Now we must fly round and fill up. Come, boys, sort out the green andhand us the flowers as we want them. Then we must direct them, and, bythe time that is done, you can go and leave them," said Jill, settingall to work.

  "Ed must choose his baskets first. These are ours; but any of those youcan have;" and Molly pointed to a detachment of gay baskets, set apartfrom those already partly filled.

  Ed chose a blue one, and Merry filled it with the rosiest may-flowers,knowing that it was to hang on Mabel's door-handle.

  The others did the same, and the pretty work went on, with much fun,till all were filled, and ready for the names or notes.

  "Let us have poetry, as we can't get wild flowers. That will be ratherfine," proposed Jill, who liked jingles.

  All had had some practice at the game parties, and pencils went brisklyfor a few minutes, while silence reigned, as the poets racked theirbrains for rhymes, and stared at the blooming array before them forinspiration.

  "Oh, dear! I can't find a word to rhyme to 'geranium,'" sighed Molly,pulling her braid, as if to pump the well of her fancy dry.

  "Cranium," said Frank, who was getting on bravely with "Annette" and"violet."

  "That is elegant!" and Molly scribbled away in great glee, for her poemswere always funny ones.

  "How do you spell _anemoly_--the wild flower, I mean?" asked Jill, whowas trying to compose a very appropriate piece for her best basket, andfound it easier to feel love and gratitude than to put them into verse.

  "Anemone; do spell it properly, or you'll get laughed at," answered Gus,wildly struggling to make his lines express great ardor, without being"too spoony," as he expressed it.

  "No, I shouldn't. This person never laughs at other persons' mistakes,as some persons do," replied Jill, with dignity.

  Jack was desperately chewing his pencil, for he could not get on atall; but Ed had evidently prepared his poem, for his paper was half fullalready, and Merry was smiling as she wrote a friendly line or two forRalph's basket, as she feared he would be forgotten, and knew he lovedkindness even more than he did beauty.

  "Now let's read them," proposed Molly, who loved to laugh even atherself.

  The boys politely declined, and scrambled their notes into the chosenbaskets in great haste; but the girls were less bashful. Jill wasinvited to begin, and gave her little piece, with the pink hyacinthbasket before her, to illustrate her poem.

  "TO MY LADY

  "There are no flowers in the fields, No green leaves on the tree, No columbines, no violets, No sweet anemone. So I have gathered from my pots All that I have to fill The basket that I hang to-night, With heaps of love from Jill."

  "That's perfectly sweet! Mine isn't; but I meant it to be funny," saidMolly, as if there could be any doubt about the following ditty:--

  "Dear Grif, Here is a whiff Of beautiful spring flowers; The big red rose Is for your nose, As toward the sky it towers.

  "Oh, do not frown Upon this crown Of green pinks and blue geranium But think of me When this you see, And put it on your cranium."

  "O Molly, you will never hear the last of that if Grif gets it," saidJill, as the applause subsided, for the boys pronounced it "tip-top."

  "Don't care, he gets the worst of it any way, for there is a pin in thatrose, and if he goes to smell the mayflowers underneath he will find athorn to pay for the tack he put in my rubber boot. I know he will playme some joke to-night, and I mean to be first if I can," answered Molly,settling the artificial wreath round the orange-colored canoe which heldher effusion.

  "Now, Merry, read yours: you always have sweet poems;" and Jill foldedher hands to listen with pleasure to something sentimental.

  "I can't read the poems in some of mine, because they are for you; butthis little verse you can hear, if you like: I'm going to give thatbasket to Ralph.
He said he should hang one for his grandmother, and Ithought that was so nice of him, I'd love to surprise him with one allto himself. He's always so good to us;" and Merry looked so innocentlyearnest that no one smiled at her kind thought or the unconsciousparaphrase she had made of a famous stanza in her own "little verse."

  "To one who teaches me The sweetness and the beauty Of doing faithfully And cheerfully my duty."

  "He will like that, and know who sent it, for none of us have prettypink paper but you, or write such an elegant hand," said Molly, admiringthe delicate white basket shaped like a lily, with the flowers insideand the note hidden among them, all daintily tied up with the palestblush-colored ribbon.

  "Well, that's no harm. He likes pretty things as much as I do, and Imade my basket like a flower because I gave him one of my callas, headmired the shape so much;" and Merry smiled as she remembered howpleased Ralph looked as he went away carrying the lovely thing.

  "I think it would be a good plan to hang some baskets on the doors ofother people who don't expect or often have any. I'll do it if you canspare some of these, we have so many. Give me only one, and let theothers go to old Mrs. Tucker, and the little Irish girl who has beensick so long, and lame Neddy, and Daddy Munson. It would please andsurprise them so. Will we?" asked Ed, in that persuasive voice of his.

  All agreed at once, and several people were made very happy by a bit ofspring left at their doors by the May elves who haunted the town thatnight playing all sorts of pranks. Such a twanging of bells andrapping of knockers; such a scampering of feet in the dark; such drollcollisions as boys came racing round corners, or girls ran intoone another's arms as they crept up and down steps on the sly; suchlaughing, whistling, flying about of flowers and friendly feeling--itwas almost a pity that May-day did not come oftener.

  Molly got home late, and found that Grif had been before her, after all;for she stumbled over a market-basket at her door, and on taking itin found a mammoth nosegay of purple and white cabbages, her favoritevegetable. Even Miss Bat laughed at the funny sight, and Molly resolvedto get Ralph to carve her a bouquet out of carrots, beets, and turnipsfor next time, as Grif would never think of that.

  Merry ran up the garden-walk alone, for Frank left her at the gate,and was fumbling for the latch when she felt something hanging there.Opening the door carefully, she found it gay with offerings from hermates; and among them was one long quiver-shaped basket of birch bark,with something heavy under the green leaves that lay at the top. Liftingthese, a slender bas-relief of a calla lily in plaster appeared, withthis couplet slipped into the blue cord by which it was to hang:--

  "That mercy you to others show That Mercy Grant to me."

  "How lovely! and this one will never fade, but always be a pleasurehanging there. Now, I really have something beautiful all my own," saidMerry to herself as she ran up to hang the pretty thing on the darkwainscot of her room, where the graceful curve of its pointed leaves andthe depth of its white cup would be a joy to her eyes as long as theylasted.

  "I wonder what that means," and Merry read over the lines again, whilea soft color came into her cheeks and a little smile of girlish pleasurebegan to dimple round her lips; for she was so romantic, this touchof sentiment showed her that her friendship was more valued than shedreamed. But she only said, "How glad I am I remembered him, and howsurprised he will be to see mayflowers in return for the lily."

  He was, and worked away more happily and bravely for the thought ofthe little friend whose eyes would daily fall on the white flower whichalways reminded him of her.