by Sophie May
CHAPTER II.
THE LADY CHILD.
They say I grew very troublesome. Ruthie thought I was always "underfoot," and nothing went on, from parlor to kitchen, from attic tocellar, but I knew all about it. There was not a pie, particularly amince pie, that I didn't try to have a finger in.
But I could not have been in the house _all_ the time, for Abnerdeclares I was always out of doors. My little shoes were generallythick with mud, and my little frocks ready every night for thewash-tub. If there was a spoon or a knife missing, Abner often foundit in the ploughed field, where I had been using it as a kind ofpickaxe to dig my way through to China. No matter how muddy orslippery the walking, I begged to go out. I had a feeling that Iwanted to skip like a lamb, fly like a bird, and dart like a squirrel,and of course needed all out doors to do it in.
"Don't fall down," cried mamma from the window; "look out for theice."
And I answered back from under my red, quilted hood,--
"Well, if I do fall down and break me, mamma, you mus' pick up all mylittle bones and glue 'em togedder. God glued 'em in the firs' place,all but my tongue, and that's _nailed_ in."
Not nailed in very tight: I could move it fast enough.
And when the snow and ice were gone, I liked to wade ankle-deep inthe mud. Father had to buy me a pair of rubber boots, and that is thefirst present I remember. They filled my soul with joy. When I said myprayers I had one on each side of me, and when I slept it was withboth boots on my pillow. At first I could think of nothing else towish for; but one day I said,--
"I wish I was a pussy-cat, mamma, so I could have _four_ yubberboots!"
Brother Ned and I were great friends. Partly to keep his eye on me,and partly because he enjoyed my conversation, he would say in thecool spring days, "Come, Maggie, dear, bring your cloak, and I'll wrapyou up all so warm, so you can sit out on the woodpile while I chop mystint."
I think he must have been a little fellow to chop wood. After I gotthere, and was having a good time, he often remarked, in tones ascutting as the edge of his hatchet,--
"If I had a brother, Miss Maggie, I shouldn't take pains to wrap up aspeck of a girl like you for company."
"Well, if had a little sister, I wouldn't _be_ yapped up for comp'ny,"retorted I, rubbing my small, red nose; "I'd be a-yockin' her cradle."
Ned laughed at that; for it was just what he expected me to say. Wehad one bond of sympathy; he longed for a little brother, and I longedfor a little sister. He liked to hear me talk grandly about "my newbaby-girlie, Rosy Posy Parlin. She wouldn't bl'ong to him any 'tall.She'd be mine clear through."
He led me on to snap out little sharp speeches, which he alwayslaughed at; and I suspect that was one thing that made me so pert. Ilooked up to him as a superior being, except when I was angry withhim, which was about half the time. I told Ruphelle Allen he was a"bad, naughty boy;" but when she said, "Yes, I think so, too," Iinstantly cried out, "Well, I guess he's gooder 'n _your_ brother;so!"
Ruphelle was my bosom friend. We had shaken rattles together before wewere big enough to shake hands. She had beautiful brown eyes, andstraight, brown hair; while, as for me, my eyes were gray, and mykinky hair the color of tow.
Sister 'Ria called Ruphelle "a nice little girl;" while, owing to theway my hair had of running wild, and the way my frocks had of tearing,she didn't mind saying I was "a real romp," and looked half the timelike "an up-and-down fright."
As I always believed exactly what people said, and couldn'tunderstand jokes, I was rather unhappy about this; but concluded I hadbeen made for a vexation, like flies and mosquitos, and so wasn't toblame.
Ruphelle lived on a hill, in the handsomest house in Willowbrook, witha "cupalo" on top, where you could look off and see the whole town,with the blue river running right through the middle, and cutting itin two.
Ruphelle had an English father and mother. I remember Madam Allen'sturban, how it loomed up over her stately head like a great whitepeony. There was a saucy brother Augustus, whom I never could abide,and a grandpa, who always said and did such strange things that I didnot understand what it meant till I grew older, and learned that hewas afflicted with "softening of the brain."
Then in the kitchen there was a broad-shouldered, ruddy-faced woman,named Tempy Ann Crawford, whom I always see, with my mind's eye,roasting coffee and stirring it with a pudding-stick, or rolling outdoughnuts, which she called crullers, and holding up a fried image,said to be a little sailor boy with a tarpaulin hat on,--only hisfigure was injured so much by swelling in the lard kettle that his ownmother wouldn't have known him; still he made very good eating.
There was a little bound girl in the family, Ann Smiley, who often ledme into mischief, but always before Madam Allen looked as demure as alittle gray kitten.
Fel and I were uncommonly forward about learning our letters, andwished very much to go to school and finish our education; but weretold that the "committee men" would not let us in till we were fouryears old. My birthday came the first of May, and very proud was Iwhen mother led me up to a lady visitor, and said, "My little girl isfour years old to-day." I thought the people "up street" would ringbells and fire cannons, but they forgot it. I looked in the glass, andcould not see the great change in my face which I had expected. Ididn't look any "diffunt." How would the teacher know I was so old?
"O, will they let me in?" I asked. "For always when I go to school,then somebody comes that's a teacher, and tells me to go home, andsays I musn't stay."
"You will have to wait till the school begins," said my mother, "andthat is all the better, for then little Fel can go too." I was willingto wait, for Fel was the other half of me. In three weeks she was asold as I was, and in the rosy month of June we began to go to thedistrict school.
Your grandfather lived a little way out of town, and Squire Allenmuch farther; so every morning Ruphelle and her brother Augustuscalled for me, and we girls trudged along to school together, whileGust followed like a little dog with our dinner baskets. This was oneof the greatest trials in the whole world; for, do you see, he had apair of ears which heard altogether too much, and when we saidanything which was not remarkably wise, he had a habit of crying"Pooh!" which was very provoking. We went hand in hand, Fel and I, andcounted the steps we took, or hopped on one foot like lame ducklings,and "that great Gust" would look on and laugh. I had so much to say toFel that I couldn't help talking, though I knew he was there to hear.
"I'd like to be a _skurrel_ once," said I.
"O, pooh!" said Gust.
"I'd like to be 'em _once_, Gust Allen. I'd like to be 'em long enoughto know how they feel. Once there was a boy, and he was turned into askurrel, and his name was Bunny."
"_That's_ a whopper, miss!"
Such were "the tricks and the manners" of Fel's disagreeable brother.Do you wonder I called him a trial? But Fel didn't mind him much, forhe was good to her, and never laughed at her as he did at me. She was"a lady-child," and her disposition was much sweeter than mine.
Mr. Clifford, who was fitting for college then, used to pass us witha book under his arm and pat our sun-bonnets, and call us "Juno'sswans." We had never seen any swans, and did not know who Juno was,but presumed it was some old woman who kept geese and hens.
When we reached the school-house we were sure of a good time, for theteacher lent us an old blunt penknife, with pretty red stones on theback, the like of which was never seen before in this world. Nobodyelse ever asked for the knife but us two little tots, and we went uphand in hand; and I spoke the words, while Fel asked with her eyes.Miss Lee smiled blandly, and said,--
"Well, now, the best one may have the knife a little while."
That always happened to be Fel; but it was all the same, for we sattogether, and she let me play with it "more than my half." We werereally very forward children, and learned so fast that Miss Lee saysnow she was very proud of us. I think she was, for I remember how sheshowed us off before the committee men. We could soon read in theSecond Reader, and Fel
always cried about the poor blind fiddler towhom Billy gave his cake, and I poked her with my elbow to make herstop. For my part I was apt to giggle aloud when we came to the storyof the two silly cats, and the cheese, and the monkey.
Ah, that dear old school-house, where we studied the "Primary'sJoggerphy," and saw by the map that some countries are yellow and somefire-red, and the rivers no bigger than crooked knitting-needles! Thatqueer old school-house, with the hacked-up benches, where we learned"rithumtick" by laying buttered paper over the pictures in Emerson'sFirst Part, and drawing blackbirds, chairs, and cherries all in arow! Fel had a long wooden pencil, but poor I must do with half a one,for 'Ria teased me by making me think people would call me selfish ifI had a long pencil all to myself, while my grown-up and much moreworthy sister went without any.
That funny old school-house, where Miss Lee used to make alooking-glass of one of the window-panes, by putting her black apronbehind it, and peeping in to see if her hair was smooth when sheexpected the committee men! How afraid we were of those committee men,and how hard we studied the fly-leaves of our "joggerphies" while theywere there, feeling so proud that we knew more than "that greatGust!"
That dear, queer, funny old school-house! No other hall of learningwill ever seem like that to me!
Didn't we go at noon to the spring under the river bank and "duck" ourlittle heads, till our mothers found it out and forbade it? Didn't wesqueeze long-legged grasshoppers, and solemnly repeat the couplet:--
"Grass'per, grass'per Gray, Give me some m'lasses, And _then_ fly away."
Didn't we fling flat pebbles in the river to the tune of
"One to make ready, Two to prepare, Three to go slap-dash, Right--in--there"?
And how we enjoyed our dinners under the spreading oil-nut tree,chatting as we ate, and deciding every day anew that Tempy Ann madethe nicest sage cheese in the world, and our Ruthie the bestturnovers.
Sometimes at night father took me on his lap, and asked,--
"Do you whisper any at school?"
I turned away my face and answered,
"Fel whispers _orfly_."
"Well, does Totty-wax whisper too?"
I dropped my head, and put my fingers in my mouth.
"_Some_," said I, in a low voice. For I began to have a dim idea thatit was not proper to tell a lie.
When Fel and I had any little trouble,--which was not often, for Felgenerally gave up like a darling,--Maria was always sure to decidethat Fel was in the right. Fel thought 'Ria a remarkable young woman;but I told her privately, in some of our long chats at school, thatolder sisters were not such blessings as one might suppose. So far asI knew anything about them, they enjoyed scrubbing your face and neckthe wrong way with a rough towel, and making you cry. And they hadsuch poor memories, older sisters had. They could never call up thefaintest recollection of a fairy story when you asked for one. Theywere also very much opposed to your standing in a chair by the sink towipe dishes.
Now Tempy Ann allowed Fel to wipe dishes, and pat out little pies onthe cake-board, and bake doll's cakes. She was such a strong, largewoman too, she could hold Fel and me at the same time; and after wewere undressed, and had our nighties on, she loved to rock us in theold kitchen chair, and chat with us.
We were confidential sometimes with Tempy Ann,--or I was,--and toldher of our plan of going to Italy to give concerts when we grew up. Inever saw but one fault in Tempy Ann; she would laugh over our solemnsecrets, and would repeat the hateful ditty,--
"Row the boat, row the boat, where shall it stand? Up to Mr. Parlin's door; there's dry land. Who comes here, so skip and so skan? Mr. Gustus Allen, a very likely young man. He steps to the door, and knocks at the ring, And says, 'Mrs. Parlin, is Miss Maggie within?'"
Fel and I were both shocked at the bare hint of such a thing as mymarrying Gust. We didn't intend to have any great boys about. If Gustshould want to marry me, and ride in our gilt-edged concert-coach,with four white horses, I guessed he'd find he wasn't wanted. Ishould say "No," just as quick!
The more earnest I grew the more Tempy Ann shook with laughing; andI had some reason to suspect she went and told Madam Allen myobjections to marrying her son, which I thought was most unfair ofTempy Ann.