In Apple-Blossom Time: A Fairy-Tale to Date

by Clara Louise Burnham

  IN APPLE-BLOSSOM TIME

  A Fairy-Tale to Date

  by

  CLARA LOUISE BURNHAM

  With Illustrations

  Boston and New YorkHoughton Mifflin CompanyThe Riverside Press CambridgeCopyright, 1919, by Clara Louise BurnhamAll Rights Reserved

  Lifted the Girl in after it]

  CONTENTS

  I. The Princess

  II. The Ogre

  III. The Prince

  IV. The Good Fairy

  V. The New Help

  VI. The Dwarf

  VII. A Midnight Message

  VIII. The Meadow

  IX. The Bird of Prey

  X. The Palace

  XI. Mother and Son

  XII. The Transformation

  XIII. The Goddess

  XIV. The Mermaid Shop

  XV. The Clouds Disperse

  XVI. Apple Blossoms

  ILLUSTRATIONS

  _Drawn by B. Morgan Dennis_

  Lifted the Girl in after it

  Tingling with the Increasing Desire to knock down his Host and catch this Girl up in his Arms

  "Geraldine Melody belongs to me. Her father gave her to me"

  DRAMATIS PERSONAE

  In the Order of their Appearance

  The Good Fairy _Mehitable Upton_

  The Princess _Geraldine Melody_

  The Ogre _Rufus Carder_

  The Dwarf _Pete_

  The Slave _Mrs. Carder_

  The Prince _Benjamin Barry_

  The Grouch _Charlotte Whipp_

  The Queen _Mrs. Barry_

  IN APPLE-BLOSSOM TIME

  CHAPTER I

  The Princess

  Miss Mehitable Upton had come to the city to buy a stock of goods forthe summer trade. She had a little shop at the fashionable resort ofKeefeport as well as one in the village of Keefe, and June wasapproaching. It would soon be time to move.

  Miss Upton's extreme portliness had caused her hours of laboriousselection to fatigue her greatly. Her face was scarlet as she entered apopular restaurant to seek rest and refreshment. She trudged with allthe celerity possible toward the only empty table, her face expressingwearied eagerness to reach that desirable haven before any one elseespied it.

  Scarcely had she eased herself down into the complaining chair, however,before a reason for the unpopularity of this table appeared. A steadydraught blew across it strong enough to wave the ribbons on her hat.

  "This won't do at all," muttered Miss Mehitable. "I'm all of a sweat."

  She looked about among the busy hungry horde, and her eye alighted on atable at which a young girl sat alone.

  "Bet she'll hate to see me comin', but here goes," she added, slippingthe straps of her bag up on her arm and grasping the sides of the tablewith both hands.

  Ben Barry was wont to say: "When Mehit is about to rise and flee, it's acase of Yo heave ho, my hearties. All hands to the ropes." But then itwas notorious that Ben's bump of reverence was an intaglio.

  Miss Upton got to her feet and started on her trip, her eyes expressingrenewed anxiety.

  A lantern-faced, round-shouldered man, whose ill-fitting clothes, lowcollar several sizes too large, and undecided manner suggested that hewas a visitor from the rural districts, happened to be starting for theyoung girl's table at the same moment.

  Miss Upton perceived his intention.

  "Let him set in the draught," she thought. "He don't look as if he'dever been het up in his life."

  With astonishing swiftness her balloon-like form took on an extrasprint. The man became aware of her object and they arrived at thecoveted haven nearly simultaneously.

  Miss Mehitable's umbrella decided the victory. She deftly moved it towhere a hurdle would have intervened for her rival in their foot-race,and the preoccupied girl at the table looked up somewhat startled as ared face atop a portly figure met her brown eyes in triumph. The girlglanced at the defeated competitor and took in the situation. The manscowled at Mehitable's umbrella planted victoriously beside its ownerand his thin lips expressed his impatience most unbecomingly. Then hecaught sight of the vacant table and started for that with the hastewhich, like many predecessors, he was to find unnecessary.

  "I'm sorry to disturb you," said Miss Upton, still excited from herMarathon, "but you'd have had him if you hadn't had me."

  The girl was a sore-hearted maiden, and the geniality and good-humor inthe jolly face opposite had the effect of a cheery fire in a gloomy anddesolate room.

  "I would much rather have you," she replied. "I couldn't have satopposite that Adam's apple."

  Miss Mehitable laughed. "He wasn't pretty, was he?" she replied; "andwasn't he mad, though?"

  Then she became aware that if the disappointed man had not beenprepossessing, her present companion was so. A quantity of golden hair,a fine pink-and-white skin, with dark eyebrows, eyes, and lashes, weregenerous gifts of Nature; and the curves of the grave little mouth werevery charming. The girl's plain dark suit and simple hat, and above allher shrinking, cast-down demeanor made her appear careless, even unawareof these advantages, and Miss Mehitable noticed this at once.

  "Hasn't the child got a looking-glass?" she thought; and even as shethought it and took the menu she observed a tear gather on the darklashes opposite.

  As the girl wiped it away quickly, she glanced up and saw the look ofkindly concern in her neighbor's face.

  "I'd rather you would be the one to see me cry, too," she said. "I can'thelp it," she added desperately. "They just keep coming and coming nomatter what I do, and I must eat."

  "Well, now, I'm real sorry." Miss Upton's hearty sincerity was a sort ofconsolation. After she had given her luncheon order she spoke again toher vis-a-vis who was valiantly swallowing.

  "Do your folks live here in town?" she asked in the tone one uses towarda grieving child.

  "Oh, if I had folks!" returned the other. "Do people who have folks evercry?"

  "Why, you poor child," said Miss Mehitable. For the girl caught herlower lip under her teeth and for a minute it seemed that she was notgoing to be able to weather the crisis of her emotion: but herself-control was equal to the emergency and she bit down the battlingsob. Miss Mehitable saw the struggle and refrained from speaking for afew minutes. Her luncheon arrived and she broke open a roll. Shecontinued to send covert glances at the young girl who industriouslybuttered small pieces of bread and put them into her unwilling mouth,and drank from a glass of milk.

  When Miss Upton thought it was safe to address her again, she spoke:"Who have you got to take care of you, then?" she asked.

  "Nobody," was the reply, but the girl spoke steadily now. Apparently shehad summoned the calm of desperation.

  "Why, that don't seem possible," returned Miss Mehitable, and her voiceand manner were full of such sympathetic interest that the forlorn oneresponded again; this time with a long look of gratitude that seemed tosink right down through Miss Upton's solicitous eyes into her goodheart.

  "You're a kind woman. If there are any girls in your family they knowwhere to go for comfort. I'm sure of that."

  "There ain't any girls in my family. I'm almost without folks myself;but then, I'm old and tough. I work for my livin'. I keep a littlestore."

  "That is what I wanted to do--work for my living," said the girl. "I'vetried my best." Again for a space she caught her lip under her teeth."First I tried the stores; then I even tried service. I went into afamily as a waitress. I"--she gave a determined swallow--"I supposethere must be some good men
in the world, but I haven't found any."

  Miss Upton's small eyes gave their widest stare and into them cameunderstanding and indignation.

  "I'm discouraged"--said the girl, and a hard tone came into her lowvoice--"discouraged enough to end it all."

  "Now--now--don't you talk that way," stammered Miss Mehitable. "I s'poseit's because you're so pretty."

  "Yes," returned the girl disdainfully. "I despise my looks."

  "Now, see here, child," exclaimed Miss Upton, prolonging her troubledstare, "perhaps Providence helped me nearly trip up that slab-sidedgawk. Perhaps I set down here for a purpose. Desperate folks cling tostraws. I'm the huskiest straw you ever saw, and I might be able to giveyou some advice. At least I've got an old head and you've got a youngone, bless your poor little heart. Why don't we go somewheres where wecan talk when we're through eating?"

  "You're very good to take an interest," replied the girl.

  "I'm as poor as Job's turkey," went on Miss Upton, "and I haven't gotmuch to give you but advice."

  The girl leaned across the table. "Yes, you have," she said, her softdark eyes expressive. "Kindness. Generosity. A warm heart."

  "Well, then, you come with me some place where we can talk; but," withsudden cheerfulness, "let's have some ice-cream first. Don't you loveit? I ought to run a mile from the sight of it; and these fried potatoesI've just been eatin' too. I've no business to look at 'em; but when Icome to town I just kick over the traces. I forget there is such a thingas Graham bread and I just have one good time."

  She laughed and the young girl regarded her wistfully.

  "It's a pity you haven't any daughters," she said.

  "I haven't even any husband," was the cheerful response, "and I nevershall have now, so why should I worry over my waistline? Queen Victoriahad one the same size and everybody respected _her_. Now I'm goin' toorder the ice-cream. That's my treat as a proof that you and I arefriends. My name is Upton. What's yours, my dear?"

  "Melody."

  "First or last?"

  "Last. Geraldine Melody."

  "It's a _nawful_ pretty name," declared Miss Upton impressively. "Thereain't any discord in melody. Now you take courage. Which'll you have?Chocolate or strawberry?"