Buch lesen: «The Two Story Mittens and the Little Play Mittens», Seite 2

"Sister Mary!! sister Mary!!" cried Lillie, running up to the little old lady, who, strange to tell! had another crop of beautiful golden brown hair under the other, smoothed down very close to her head.

"Why, it's a wig!" screamed the children, all laughing and running up. Was there ever anything so funny: "It's nothing but Miss Mary in a wig."

At this very moment Master Sam Russell stepped slyly behind the little old gentleman, and twitched at his bushy white hair. It all came off in his hand amid roars of laughter; and underneath was the brown head of Harry, one of the greatest fellows for fun you ever saw, and a dear cousin of Lillie's.

But Miss Florence stared at it all with a simpering smile on her face; till Lillie, looking close at her, caught her up in her arms, and hugging her to her breast screamed joyfully out – "It's a new doll! a new doll!! Miss Florence is a new doll!!" and began running round the whole length of the two rooms, all the children scampering after her, laughing and shouting, till they threw themselves down on the sofas and chairs, perfectly breathless.

Yes, Miss Florence was a splendid wax doll; and the children gathered round Lillie, after just one second of rest, for they could not possibly be expected to sit still longer than that; and admired and kissed the stranger; and "Oh, what a darling! what lovely eyes! what pretty boots! how big she is! and so on," was heard on all sides.

A tremendous ring at the bell! Why! were wonders never to cease? In came Margery saying there was a trunk in the hall left by the expressman, who said Miss Florence Grey must pay him twenty-five cents, and he would not stir a step till she did.

Here was a difficulty! Lillie's money never had a chance to burn a hole in her pocket, because she spent it the very moment her mamma or papa gave her any; and she did not know where twenty-five cents were to come from.

"Suppose you feel in Miss Florence's pocket," said her mother.

"Ah! let's see!" cried Lillie; so she poked two of her little fingers in the pocket, and sure enough! there was a bright, new quarter of a dollar. She rushed out and gave it to the expressman, who hardly waited to say, "thank you," but was on his wagon with a bound, and round the corner like a flash of lightning.

Well, there in the hall was a beautiful new trunk! two of the boys brought it in very politely. But it was locked. What was to be done now?

"Feel in Miss Florence's pocket," advised the good mother again.

Lillie poked in two little fingers as before, and said that way down in the bottom there was certainly something. She caught it at last, and when it was fished out, it proved to be a small key.

All the children crowded round as the trunk was unlocked; and then you would have given a hundred dollars, only to see their faces, and hear them clap their hands, and exclaim with delight as dress after dress, and petticoats all tucked up, pantalettes with the most beautiful embroidery round the legs, and a round straw hat, and two French bonnets, and all sorts of things; and everything else besides, was taken out. Oh, it was almost too good to believe!

Down sat the darlings on the carpet, and spread all the articles out. The boys looking on very much pleased.

"Let's try all the dresses on," said one of the little girls.

No sooner said, than done! and before Miss Florence could say "Jack Robinson," off came the dress she was wearing.

Did you ever! To be trying on a lady's dress at a party!! Who ever heard of such a thing? I never did! But the best of it was, that Miss Florence did not seem to care a button; she smiled and simpered, and allowed herself to be tumbled over on her nose, and never squealed an atom when pins were run into her back. But no doubt she came to the conclusion that it was the custom of the country. At any rate, she could not help loving Lillie; and for my part, I don't know who could.

In the middle of the dressing, supper was announced! which was joyful news, as all the romping and playing had made the children as hungry as hunters; and, at the sight of a great table perfectly loaded down with cakes, oranges, and mottoes, instead of gravely marching in, looking as solemn as owls – as grown people do – they skipped and danced with delight: and such a little, laughing, joyous party was worth all the grum old grown-up balls from now to never. I wish all the children would invite me to their parties; I think it is such fun! The sight of so many happy little faces takes nearly all the sad look out of my face, and quite all the sad thoughts out of my heart.

They all ate just as much as they wanted of the nice things, and the little boys pulled the snapping mottoes with the girls; and very politely gave the motto papers, all crammed full of "love and dove," and "bliss and kiss," to those they liked best.

Then they played games and danced, and were so perfectly happy, that when the servants came to take them home, they one and all declared that they would not go, as their mammas had said they might stay till ten o'clock; when, would you believe it? Lillie's mother said it was ten minutes after ten then!

Where in the world had all the time gone to, this evening? Just the very evening, of all others, when they wanted it to last three times longer than usual! It really was too bad; and was very unkind in the hands of the clock to scrabble over such delightful hours so fast. But there was no help for it now; and they put on their coats, cloaks, caps, and hats, and, after kissing Lillie and Miss Florence, who was going to live there, they all went home.

And that was the end of Miss Florence's party. I mean the party that was given in her honor. If you should like to see her, just come to me, and I will whisper in your ear were she lives now; for they have moved away from Clinton Place. She and Lillie have become great friends, and have never been separated since that celebrated evening, at the party, when the children tried on all her dresses.

Oh! I forgot one thing. The white wigs, you know. Well, the boys picked them up to examine them; and, what do you think the queer old things were made of? Why, nothing but a sheet of white wadding.

How they did laugh! and how surprised they were! for they looked so respectable! just like the bushy horse hair wigs you see hanging in Mr. Isabeau the hair dresser's windows; and I, for one, the very next time I go to a fancy party, mean to make a wig of white wadding, for three cents, for that was all Henry's and Mary's cost.

Won't Lillie be surprised when she sees this story in print! I'm quite certain she will laugh and kiss me, and say, Why, Aunt Fanny! You were not at the party; how did you hear? Then I shall look very mischievous and say, "Ah! that's telling!"

But there's one thing I must tell, though I am very nearly certain you have guessed it already. Miss Florence was the very doll Lillie's mother had bought in the summer time, and Helen, the kind sister, had made every one of the beautiful things in the little trunk. To show you how handsome they all were, I have had Miss Florence's portrait taken in an everyday dress, and begged the printer to put it in this book. Don't it make a flourish? And was not Helen a perfect darling of a sister? Don't you wish she was yours? I do.

"There! what do you think of that story?" said the little mother, as she rolled up the manuscript.

"Oh, it is the best of all! They are all the best stories!" cried the children. "How we wish we knew Lillie and her beautiful doll!"

They gathered round their mother, and admired her picture, which Aunt Fanny had sent with the MS.; and counted the flounces, and thought her feet were "such darlings!" and then exclaimed again, "Oh, I wish we knew her!"

"Wouldn't you rather know Harry, the little old gentleman in the wig?" asked a voice at the door.

The children turned quickly round, and saw Aunt Fanny standing at the door laughing at them.

They fell upon her with screams of delight, and, without meaning to, immediately upset her upon the carpet; for she is a little woman, with not a grain of bodily strength; all her strength is in her heart. So there she sat, so weak from laughing, that she could not help herself; while the children cried, "Oh, Aunt Fanny, we beg your pardon! did we hurt you? we only meant to love you."

Then they all got hold of her, and began to pull her up different ways; in consequence of which, down she came again, and half a dozen of the children with her.

"Oh!" she cried, "if you don't stop, you will push me through the carpet and floor, and make me fall plump on top of the cook's head in the kitchen. Come, let's all sit here, while I tell you something, and recover my breath."

This invitation suited them exactly. Down they all dropped, with Aunt Fanny in the middle. The little ones tumbled over themselves, and lighted on their heads at first; but after a good deal of laughing and nestling up close together, they were tolerably quiet.

"Well," said Aunt Fanny, "I always knew you were perfect monkeys for cutting capers; but I did not know till now, that you were also a family of crabs."

"Crabs!" cried the children laughing.

"Yes, pulling me up, and trying to make me walk two ways at once, like a crab: very good fun for a crab, but it brought me flat, as you see, and has nearly frightened out of my head a fine story I have heard, about the consequences of an odd speech your friend Harry, the little old gentleman in the story of Lillie, made to a poor little boy."

"Oh dear, do tell it!" they cried; "try to get it back in your head again; we want to hear it so much."

"Well, will you get up and sit in chairs, and work like beavers at your mittens, if I do?"

"Oh, yes! yes!" They sprang up, and in a surprisingly short time the crochet needles were glancing in the gas light; while the mittens grew wonderfully.

It was a new pleasure to hear a story directly from her lips, especially as she had brought two or three pictures to illustrate it, which added greatly to their enjoyment.

It was rather late to begin one, but the little mother for once consented to let the small ones of the family sit up; and Aunt Fanny began the wonderful story of

The Fairy Benevolence

THE FAIRY BENEVOLENCE

There never was a more loving son than little Mark. He was only seven years old. Yet already he was of great use to his mother, who was a very poor widow, as poor as could be, and she had to work, without ever resting, from morning till night, to get food and clothes for herself and her dear child.

Oh, that terrible stitch, stitch, stitching! It must never stop; for all she got for making a whole shirt was ten cents, and with her utmost efforts she could only finish two in a day.

At last, what with crying and sitting up half the nights in the cold to finish her sewing, the poor widow fell very ill. What was to be done? There was no money to pay a physician, the rent was coming due, and little Mark was almost crazy with grief. He sat by his mother's bedside and bathed her head, and did all he knew how to do.

They lived in a small hut, far away from the village, to which the poor widow had to take her work every week, from which it was conveyed to the great city of New York. There the shirts were sold for so much money, that the man who got them made for the shamefully small price of ten cents, rode in his carriage and lived in splendor. Ah! how I wish this wicked man, who was starving many a poor woman in the same way, could have been made to feel cold, and hunger, and thirst, till he nearly died. I think, after that he would begin to have a conscience – don't you?

One afternoon, while his mother was in a troubled slumber, little Mark went and sat down outside the cottage. A kind farmer had been felling trees, and one of these he had given to Mark's mother, promising to send one of the farm lads that evening to saw and split it for her. Mark sat down on the log and leaned sadly upon his hand, and every little while he wiped away a tear that rolled down his cheek.

Presently a tall, handsome boy walked past. It was Harry, the one who personated the little old gentleman in the true story of "The Party Lillie gave to Miss Florence." His father had a country seat in the neighborhood, and Harry often took long walks in search of adventures.

"Why, what is the matter, little fellow?" he asked.

Mark raised his tearful eyes, and seeing a kind face, told his pitiful story.

"Oh, don't be down-hearted," cried Harry. "Why, don't you know the fairies are not all dead yet? Now, there's the fairy Benevolence; just you ask her, good and loud, to help you, and see if she won't do it;" and he patted the little boy encouragingly on the head, slipped a quarter of a dollar – all the money he had with him – in his hand, and walked quickly away.

Harry's father was a skilful physician, with one of the largest and most loving hearts I ever knew; and when Harry told Mark to call upon the fairy for assistance, his idea was that the fairy this time would come in the shape of a rather stout gentleman, with the pleasantest smile and finest set of snow-white teeth that ever were seen. He had a kind, delicate way of doing a service, which made it better to take, and did more good than all the medicine in Mr. Hegeman's apothecary shop.

Very soon little Mark got up and went into the cottage. His mother was still sleeping. It was now sunset, and the shadows began to deepen and darken in the room. Mark sat down by the bedside, and commenced thinking of what Harry had told him. He was a little bit of a fellow, you know, and of course would believe what such a great boy would say. So he concluded it must be true that the fairies were still to be found; and at last his longing grew so intense that he cried aloud, "Oh, Fairy Benevolence! come quickly, and make my poor mother well."

A sweet strain of music seemed to float in the air; the poor, whitewashed wall of the cottage opened in the middle, through which a beautiful lady entered, with a wreath of flowers round her head, and a wand of ivory in her hand.

"Well, my little friend," said she in a soft voice, "what do you want of me?"

Mark was almost speechless with astonishment and admiration; but he managed to say, "Oh, lady, if you are the fairy Benevolence, save my poor mother."

"It is not in my power, my good child. You must do it yourself. You can, if you have the courage to go where I tell you, and hunt for a certain plant. It grows on the top of a mountain, and is called 'The Plant of Life.' The juice of that plant will cure your mother the moment she tastes of it."

"I will go this instant," he cried; "but who will take care of my mother?"

"Trust her to me, my dear boy, while you are absent. She shall have everything she wants."

"Oh, thank you," said Mark; "now I will go."

"But you must have great courage and perseverance: there is nothing of importance ever gained in this world without them."

"Oh, I have lots of courage! – only tell me where I shall find the plant."

"Well – when you get to the top of the mountain, you must call the doctor who has charge of the plant; tell him that I sent you, and he will give you a sprig."

Mark thanked the kind fairy, and kissed her hand; he then leaned over and softly kissed his mother, and then departed.

He walked quickly, but found the mountain further off than he expected. He had hardly got a third of the way when he saw a crow caught in a trap.

"Oh, poor crow!" exclaimed the kind little fellow, and he pressed down the spring and released him. The crow flew off with a "caw, caw," and then spoke like a human being, saying, "Thank you; I will repay you."

Mark was surprised to hear a bird talk; but he hurried on, and soon after he saw a rooster chased by a fox. Mark caught the rooster up in his arms, and concealed him under his coat; and the fox, staring, surprised, in every direction, ran off disappointed. As soon as he was out of sight Mark let the rooster go, who turned and said, with a grateful and very long crow, "Thank you, Mark; I will repay you."

"Why, they can all talk!" exclaimed Mark; "they must be fairy people, turned into birds!"

He walked on a long way, and jumped quickly on one side as he came up to a great ugly bullfrog, who, charmed by a snake, was too terrified to move. The snake was just about to swallow it whole, when Mark seized a large stone and threw it with all his strength into the reptile's wide-open mouth. Down went the stone into his throat, and choked him directly.

The frog hopped joyfully into the ditch at the side of the road, croaking out, "Thank you, Mark; I will repay you!"

"I declare the frog said the same thing," said Mark; "it is very strange! But no doubt they are all fairies."

By this time he had arrived at the foot of the mountain; but, alas! between it and him flowed a deep river, and so broad you could scarcely see the other side.

"Oh dear," cried Mark, "what shall I do? I can't walk on water, and there is neither boat or bridge." He sat down on the bank, covered his face with his hands, and cried aloud, "Oh, Fairy Benevolence, come and help me! Why did you tell me about the wonderful plant which would save my dear mother's life, when you knew very well I could never get to the mountain!"

At this instant, the rooster he had saved from the fox appeared, and said, "Listen to me, Mark; the fairy Benevolence cannot help you here. This mountain is beyond her dominions. But you have saved my life, and I am not ungrateful: get on my back, and I promise you, on the faith of an honorable rooster, I will carry you to the other side of the river."

Little Mark was overjoyed to hear this. He gave a spring, and was in a moment astride of his comical steed, holding on by two feathers. The rooster carried him as smoothly and easily as a steamboat; but not quite so fast, for it took twenty-one days' paddling to accomplish the journey; but at last he was landed high and dry on the opposite bank of the river.

Mark now travelled for a long time, but the mountain seemed to recede; and when at last he arrived at its foot, and began to climb, he thought it was growing up in the air, like Jack's beanstalk. He journeyed twenty-one days up and up, but did not get the least bit discouraged: his great love for his mother gave him both patience and perseverance. "If I have to walk for twenty-one years," he said aloud, "I will never stop till I get to the top."

"Twenty-one years," echoed a malicious, sneering voice. "You are a very conceited little chap! Pray, what do you want?" and out came, from a cave in the mountain, a little man with one eye in the middle of his face, and two noses side by side.

"I wish to find the plant of life, sir," answered Mark, with a bow.

"Oh, you do! Pray, whom for?"

"For my dear mother, who is lying very ill at home."

"Oh, well you look like a tolerably good boy, and I believe I will permit you to go, under certain conditions. I am a génie; so, you see, I could cook and eat you, if I liked. You must reap all my wheat, thrash out the grains, grind them into flour, and knead the flour into loaves, and bake them. You will find all the tools you want in the cave. When all is done, you can call me; but till you have finished, you shall not stir a step." So saying, he disappeared in a streak of blue smoke.

Mark had listened in terror, and, when the génie was out of sight, he looked all round him. On every side were immense fields of wheat. He raised his arms, then dropped them in despair, and, covering his face with his hands, cried out, "Oh, fairy Benevolence, come and help me!"