<p class="h2"><SPAN name="XII" id="XII"></SPAN>XII.</p>
<p class="h2a">CAMP LAURENCE.</p>
<div class="figleft"> <SPAN name="b061.png" id="b061.png"></SPAN>
<ANTIMG src="images/b061.png" width-obs="200" height-obs="335" alt="Beth was post-mistress" title="Beth was post-mistress" /></div>
<p class="indent">BETH was post-mistress, for, being most at
home, she could attend to it regularly,
and dearly liked the daily task of unlocking
the little door and distributing
the mail. One July
day she came in with her hands
full, and went about the house
leaving letters and parcels, like
the penny post.</p>
<p class="indent">"Here's your posy, mother!
Laurie never forgets that," she
said, putting the fresh nosegay
in the vase that stood in "Marmee's
corner," and was kept
supplied by the affectionate
boy.</p>
<p class="indent">"Miss Meg March, one letter
and a glove," continued
Beth, delivering the articles to
her sister, who sat near her
mother, stitching wristbands.</p>
<p class="indent">"Why, I left a pair over there, and here is only one," said Meg,
looking at the gray cotton glove.</p>
<p class="indent">"Didn't you drop the other in the garden?"</p>
<p class="indent">"No, I'm sure I didn't; for there was only one in the office."</p>
<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 148]</span>
"I hate to have odd gloves! Never mind, the other may be found.
My letter is only a translation of the German song I wanted; I think
Mr. Brooke did it, for this isn't Laurie's writing."</p>
<p class="indent">Mrs. March glanced at Meg, who was looking very pretty in her
gingham morning-gown, with the little curls blowing about her forehead,
and very womanly, as she sat sewing at her little work-table,
full of tidy white rolls; so unconscious of the thought in her mother's
mind as she sewed and sung, while her fingers flew, and her thoughts
were busied with girlish fancies as innocent and fresh as the pansies in
her belt, that Mrs. March smiled, and was satisfied.</p>
<p class="indent">"Two letters for Doctor Jo, a book, and a funny old hat, which
covered the whole post-office, stuck outside," said Beth, laughing, as
she went into the study, where Jo sat writing.</p>
<p class="indent">"What a sly fellow Laurie is! I said I wished bigger hats were
the fashion, because I burn my face every hot day. He said, 'Why
mind the fashion? Wear a big hat, and be comfortable!' I said I
would if I had one, and he has sent me this, to try me. I'll wear it,
for fun, and show him I <i>don't</i> care for the fashion;" and, hanging
the antique broad-brim on a bust of Plato, Jo read her letters.</p>
<p class="indent">One from her mother made her cheeks glow and her eyes fill, for
it said to her,—</p>
<div class="blockquote"><p class="indent">"<span class="smcap">My dear</span>:</p>
<p class="indent">"I write a little word to tell you with how much satisfaction I watch
your efforts to control your temper. You say nothing about your
trials, failures, or successes, and think, perhaps, that no one sees them
but the Friend whose help you daily ask, if I may trust the well-worn
cover of your guide-book. <i>I</i>, too, have seen them all, and heartily
believe in the sincerity of your resolution, since it begins to bear
fruit. Go on, dear, patiently and bravely, and always believe that no
one sympathizes more tenderly with you than your loving</p>
<p class="right">"<span class="smcap">Mother.</span>"</p>
</div>
<p class="indent">"That does me good! that's worth millions of money and pecks
of praise. O Marmee, I do try! I will keep on trying, and not
get tired, since I have you to help me."</p>
<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 149]</span>
Laying her head on her arms, Jo wet her little romance with a few
happy tears, for she <i>had</i> thought that no one saw and appreciated
her efforts to be good; and this assurance was doubly precious, doubly
encouraging, because unexpected, and from the person whose commendation
she most valued. Feeling stronger than ever to meet and
subdue her Apollyon, she pinned the note inside her frock, as a shield
and a reminder, lest she be taken unaware, and proceeded to open
her other letter, quite ready for either good or bad news. In a big,
dashing hand, Laurie wrote,—</p>
<div class="blockquote">
<div class="poem">
<div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"<span class="smcap">Dear Jo</span>,</span><br/>
<span class="i0">What ho!</span></div>
</div>
<p>Some English girls and boys are coming to see me to-morrow and I
want to have a jolly time. If it's fine, I'm going to pitch my tent in
Longmeadow, and row up the whole crew to lunch and croquet,—have
a fire, make messes, gypsy fashion, and all sorts of larks. They
are nice people, and like such things. Brooke will go, to keep us
boys steady, and Kate Vaughn will play propriety for the girls. I
want you all to come; can't let Beth off, at any price, and nobody
shall worry her. Don't bother about rations,—I'll see to that, and
everything else,—only do come, there's a good fellow!</p>
<div class="poem">
<div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"In a tearing hurry,</span><br/>
<span class="i0">Yours ever, <span class="smcap">Laurie</span>."</span></div>
</div></div>
<p class="indent">"Here's richness!" cried Jo, flying in to tell the news to Meg.</p>
<p class="indent">"Of course we can go, mother? it will be such a help to Laurie,
for I can row, and Meg see to the lunch, and the children be useful
in some way."</p>
<p class="indent">"I hope the Vaughns are not fine, grown-up people. Do you
know anything about them, Jo?" asked Meg.</p>
<p class="indent">"Only that there are four of them. Kate is older than you, Fred
and Frank (twins) about my age, and a little girl (Grace), who is
nine or ten. Laurie knew them abroad, and liked the boys; I fancied,
from the way he primmed up his mouth in speaking of her, that he
didn't admire Kate much."</p>
<p class="indent">"I'm so glad my French print is clean; it's just the thing, and so
<span class="pagenum">[Pg 150]</span>
becoming!" observed Meg complacently. "Have you anything
decent, Jo?"</p>
<p class="indent">"Scarlet and gray boating suit, good enough for me. I shall row
and tramp about, so I don't want any starch to think of. You'll
come, Bethy?"</p>
<p class="indent">"If you won't let any of the boys talk to me."</p>
<p class="indent">"Not a boy!"</p>
<p class="indent">"I like to please Laurie; and I'm not afraid of Mr. Brooke, he is
so kind; but I don't want to play, or sing, or say anything. I'll
work hard, and not trouble any one; and you'll take care of me, Jo,
so I'll go."</p>
<p class="indent">"That's my good girl; you do try to fight off your shyness, and I
love you for it. Fighting faults isn't easy, as I know; and a cheery
word kind of gives a lift. Thank you, mother," and Jo gave the thin
cheek a grateful kiss, more precious to Mrs. March than if it had
given back the rosy roundness of her youth.</p>
<p class="indent">"I had a box of chocolate drops, and the picture I wanted to
copy," said Amy, showing her mail.</p>
<p class="indent">"And I got a note from Mr. Laurence, asking me to come over
and play to him to-night, before the lamps are lighted, and I shall
go," added Beth, whose friendship with the old gentleman prospered
finely.</p>
<p class="indent">"Now let's fly round, and do double duty to-day, so that we can
play to-morrow with free minds," said Jo, preparing to replace her
pen with a broom.</p>
<p class="indent">When the sun peeped into the girls' room early next morning, to
promise them a fine day, he saw a comical sight. Each had made
such preparation for the f�te as seemed necessary and proper. Meg
had an extra row of little curl-papers across her forehead, Jo had
copiously anointed her afflicted face with cold cream, Beth had taken
Joanna to bed with her to atone for the approaching separation, and
Amy had capped the climax by putting a clothes-pin on her nose, to
uplift the offending feature. It was one of the kind artists use to hold
the paper on their drawing-boards, therefore quite appropriate and
effective for the purpose to which it was now put. This funny spectacle
appeared to amuse the sun, for he burst out with such radiance
<span class="pagenum">[Pg 151]</span>
that Jo woke up, and roused all her sisters by a hearty laugh at Amy's
ornament.</p>
<div class="figcenter"> <SPAN name="b062.png" id="b062.png"></SPAN> <ANTIMG src="images/b062.png" width-obs="560" height-obs="400" alt="Amy capped the climax by putting a clothes-pin on her nose" title="Amy capped the climax by putting a clothes-pin on her nose" /></div>
<p class="indent">Sunshine and laughter were good omens for a pleasure party, and
soon a lively bustle began in both houses. Beth, who was ready first,
kept reporting what went on next door, and enlivened her sisters'
toilets by frequent telegrams from the window.</p>
<p class="indent">"There goes the man with the tent! I see Mrs. Barker doing up
the lunch in a hamper and a great basket. Now Mr. Laurence is
looking up at the sky, and the weathercock; I wish he would go, too.
There's Laurie, looking like a sailor,—nice boy! Oh, mercy me!
here's a carriage full of people—a tall lady, a little girl, and two
dreadful boys. One is lame; poor thing, he's got a crutch. Laurie
didn't tell us that. Be quick, girls! it's getting late. Why, there
is Ned Moffat, I do declare. Look, Meg, isn't that the man who
bowed to you one day, when we were shopping?"</p>
<p class="indent">"So it is. How queer that he should come. I thought he was at
the Mountains. There is Sallie; I'm glad she got back in time.
Am I all right, Jo?" cried Meg, in a flutter.</p>
<p class="indent">"A regular daisy. Hold up your dress and put your hat straight;
it looks sentimental tipped that way, and will fly off at the first puff.
Now, then, come on!"</p>
<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 152]</span>
"O Jo, you are not going to wear that awful hat? It's too
absurd! You shall <i>not</i> make a guy of yourself," remonstrated Meg,
as Jo tied down, with a red ribbon, the broad-brimmed, old-fashioned
Leghorn Laurie had sent for a joke.</p>
<p class="indent">"I just will, though, for it's capital,—so shady, light, and big. It
will make fun; and I don't mind being a guy if I'm comfortable."
With that Jo marched straight away, and the rest followed,—a bright
little band of sisters, all looking their best, in summer suits, with happy
faces under the jaunty hat-brims.</p>
<p class="indent">Laurie ran to meet, and present them to his friends, in the most
cordial manner. The lawn was the reception-room, and for several
minutes a lively scene was enacted there. Meg was grateful to see
that Miss Kate, though twenty, was dressed with a simplicity which
American girls would do well to imitate; and she was much flattered
by Mr. Ned's assurances that he came especially to see her. Jo
understood why Laurie "primmed up his mouth" when speaking of
Kate, for that young lady had a stand-off-don't-touch-me air, which
contrasted strongly with the free and easy demeanor of the other
girls. Beth took an observation of the new boys, and decided that
the lame one was not "dreadful," but gentle and feeble, and she
would be kind to him on that account. Amy found Grace a well-mannered,
merry little person; and after staring dumbly at one another
for a few minutes, they suddenly became very good friends.</p>
<p class="indent">Tents, lunch, and croquet utensils having been sent on beforehand,
the party was soon embarked, and the two boats pushed off together,
leaving Mr. Laurence waving his hat on the shore. Laurie and Jo
rowed one boat; Mr. Brooke and Ned the other; while Fred Vaughn,
the riotous twin, did his best to upset both by paddling about in a
wherry like a disturbed water-bug. Jo's funny hat deserved a vote
of thanks, for it was of general utility; it broke the ice in the beginning,
by producing a laugh; it created quite a refreshing breeze, flapping
to and fro, as she rowed, and would make an excellent umbrella
for the whole party, if a shower came up, she said. Kate looked
rather amazed at Jo's proceedings, especially as she exclaimed
"Christopher Columbus!" when she lost her oar; and Laurie said,
"My dear fellow, did I hurt you?" when he tripped over her feet in
<span class="pagenum">[Pg 153]</span>
taking his place. But after putting up her glass to examine the queer
girl several times, Miss Kate decided that she was "odd, but rather
clever," and smiled upon her from afar.</p>
<div class="figcenter"> <SPAN name="b063.png" id="b063.png"></SPAN> <ANTIMG src="images/b063.png" width-obs="577" height-obs="400" alt="Mr. Laurence waving his hat" title="Mr. Laurence waving his hat" /></div>
<p class="indent">Meg, in the other boat, was delightfully situated, face to face
with the rowers, who both admired the prospect, and feathered their
oars with uncommon "skill and dexterity." Mr. Brooke was a grave,
silent young man, with handsome brown eyes and a pleasant voice.
Meg liked his quiet manners, and considered him a walking encyclop�dia
of useful knowledge. He never talked to her much; but he
looked at her a good deal, and she felt sure that he did not regard her
with aversion. Ned, being in college, of course put on all the airs
which Freshmen think it their bounden duty to assume; he was not
very wise, but very good-natured, and altogether an excellent person
to carry on a picnic. Sallie Gardiner was absorbed in keeping her
white piqu� dress clean, and chattering with the ubiquitous Fred, who
kept Beth in constant terror by his pranks.</p>
<p class="indent">It was not far to Longmeadow; but the tent was pitched and the
wickets down by the time they arrived. A pleasant green field, with
three wide-spreading oaks in the middle, and a smooth strip of turf
for croquet.</p>
<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 154]</span>
"Welcome to Camp Laurence!" said the young host, as they
landed, with exclamations of delight.</p>
<p class="indent">"Brooke is commander-in-chief; I am commissary-general; the
other fellows are staff-officers; and you, ladies, are company. The
tent is for your especial benefit, and that oak is your drawing-room;
this is the mess-room, and the third is the camp-kitchen.
Now, let's have a game before it gets hot, and then we'll see about
dinner."</p>
<p class="indent">Frank, Beth, Amy, and Grace sat down to watch the game played
by the other eight. Mr. Brooke chose Meg, Kate, and Fred; Laurie
took Sallie, Jo, and Ned. The Englishers played well; but the
Americans played better, and contested every inch of the ground as
strongly as if the spirit of '76 inspired them. Jo and Fred had several
skirmishes, and once narrowly escaped high words. Jo was
through the last wicket, and had missed the stroke, which failure ruffled
her a good deal. Fred was close behind her, and his turn came
before hers; he gave a stroke, his ball hit the wicket, and stopped an
inch on the wrong side. No one was very near; and running up to
examine, he gave it a sly nudge with his toe, which put it just an inch
on the right side.</p>
<p class="indent">"I'm through! Now, Miss Jo, I'll settle you, and get in first,"
cried the young gentleman, swinging his mallet for another blow.</p>
<div class="figcenter"> <SPAN name="b064.png" id="b064.png"></SPAN> <ANTIMG src="images/b064.png" width-obs="475" height-obs="400" alt="Now, Miss Jo, I'll settle you" title="Now, Miss Jo, I'll settle you" /></div>
<p class="indent">"You pushed it; I saw you; it's my turn now," said Jo sharply.</p>
<p class="indent">"Upon my word, I didn't move it; it rolled a bit, perhaps, but
that is allowed; so stand off, please, and let me have a go at the
stake."</p>
<p class="indent">"We don't cheat in America, but you can, if you choose," said Jo
angrily.</p>
<p class="indent">"Yankees are a deal the most tricky, everybody knows. There
you go!" returned Fred, croqueting her ball far away.</p>
<p class="indent">Jo opened her lips to say something rude, but checked herself in
time, colored up to her forehead, and stood a minute, hammering
down a wicket with all her might, while Fred hit the stake, and declared
himself out with much exultation. She went off to get her
ball, and was a long time finding it, among the bushes; but she came
back, looking cool and quiet, and waited her turn patiently. It took
<span class="pagenum">[Pg 155]</span>
several strokes to regain the place she had lost; and, when she got
there, the other side had nearly won, for Kate's ball was the last but
one, and lay near the stake.</p>
<p class="indent">"By George, it's all up with us! Good-by, Kate. Miss Jo owes
me one, so you are finished," cried Fred excitedly, as they all drew
near to see the finish.</p>
<p class="indent">"Yankees have a trick of being generous to their enemies," said Jo,
with a look that made the lad redden, "especially when they beat
them," she added, as, leaving Kate's ball untouched, she won the
game by a clever stroke.</p>
<p class="indent">Laurie threw up his hat; then remembered that it wouldn't do to
exult over the defeat of his guests, and stopped in the middle of a
cheer to whisper to his friend,—</p>
<p class="indent">"Good for you, Jo! He did cheat, I saw him; we can't tell him so,
but he won't do it again, take my word for it."</p>
<p class="indent">Meg drew her aside, under pretence of pinning up a loose braid,
and said approvingly,—</p>
<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 156]</span>
"It was dreadfully provoking; but you kept your temper, and I'm
so glad, Jo."</p>
<p class="indent">"Don't praise me, Meg, for I could box his ears this minute. I
should certainly have boiled over if I hadn't stayed among the nettles
till I got my rage under enough to hold my tongue. It's simmering
now, so I hope he'll keep out of my way," returned Jo, biting her
lips, as she glowered at Fred from under her big hat.</p>
<p class="indent">"Time for lunch," said Mr. Brooke, looking at his watch. "Commissary-general,
will you make the fire and get water, while Miss
March, Miss Sallie, and I spread the table? Who can make good
coffee?"</p>
<p class="indent">"Jo can," said Meg, glad to recommend her sister. So Jo, feeling
that her late lessons in cookery were to do her honor, went to preside
over the coffee-pot, while the children collected dry sticks, and the
boys made a fire, and got water from a spring near by. Miss Kate
sketched, and Frank talked to Beth, who was making little mats of
braided rushes to serve as plates.</p>
<p class="indent">The commander-in-chief and his aids soon spread the table-cloth
with an inviting array of eatables and drinkables, prettily decorated
with green leaves. Jo announced that the coffee was ready, and
every one settled themselves to a hearty meal; for youth is seldom
dyspeptic, and exercise develops wholesome appetites. A very merry
lunch it was; for everything seemed fresh and funny, and frequent
peals of laughter startled a venerable horse who fed near by. There
was a pleasing inequality in the table, which produced many mishaps
to cups and plates; acorns dropped into the milk, little black ants
partook of the refreshments without being invited, and fuzzy caterpillars
swung down from the tree, to see what was going on. Three
white-headed children peeped over the fence, and an objectionable
dog barked at them from the other side of the river with all his might
and main.</p>
<div class="figcenter"> <SPAN name="b065.png" id="b065.png"></SPAN> <ANTIMG class="border" src="images/b065.png" width-obs="593" height-obs="400" alt="" title="" /><br/> <span class="caption">"A very merry lunch it was."—Page 156.</span></div>
<p class="indent">"There's salt here, if you prefer it," said Laurie, as he handed Jo
a saucer of berries.</p>
<p class="indent">"Thank you, I prefer spiders," she replied, fishing up two unwary
little ones who had gone to a creamy death. "How dare you remind
me of that horrid dinner-party, when yours is so nice in every way?"
<span class="pagenum">[Pg 157]</span>
added Jo, as they both laughed, and ate out of one plate, the china
having run short.</p>
<p class="indent">"I had an uncommonly good time that day, and haven't got over
it yet. This is no credit to me, you know; I don't do anything; it's
you and Meg and Brooke who make it go, and I'm no end obliged
to you. What shall we do when we can't eat any more?" asked Laurie,
feeling that his trump card had been played when lunch was over.</p>
<p class="indent">"Have games, till it's cooler. I brought 'Authors,' and I dare say
Miss Kate knows something new and nice. Go and ask her; she's
company, and you ought to stay with her more."</p>
<p class="indent">"Aren't you company too? I thought she'd suit Brooke; but he
keeps talking to Meg, and Kate just stares at them through that ridiculous
glass of hers. I'm going, so you needn't try to preach propriety,
for you can't do it, Jo."</p>
<p class="indent">Miss Kate did know several new games; and as the girls would
not, and the boys could not, eat any more, they all adjourned to the
drawing-room to play "Rigmarole."</p>
<p class="indent">"One person begins a story, any nonsense you like, and tells as
long as he pleases, only taking care to stop short at some exciting
point, when the next takes it up and does the same. It's very funny
when well done, and makes a perfect jumble of tragical comical stuff
to laugh over. Please start it, Mr. Brooke," said Kate, with a commanding
air, which surprised Meg, who treated the tutor with as
much respect as any other gentleman.</p>
<p class="indent">Lying on the grass at the feet of the two young ladies, Mr. Brooke
obediently began the story, with the handsome brown eyes steadily
fixed upon the sunshiny river.</p>
<div class="figleft"> <SPAN name="b066.png" id="b066.png"></SPAN>
<ANTIMG src="images/b066.png" width-obs="350" height-obs="700" alt="He went prancing down a quiet street" title="He went prancing down a quiet street" /></div>
<p class="indent">"Once on a time, a knight went out into the world to seek his fortune,
for he had nothing but his sword and his shield. He travelled
a long while, nearly eight-and-twenty years, and had a hard time of
it, till he came to the palace of a good old king, who had offered a
reward to any one who would tame and train a fine but unbroken
colt, of which he was very fond. The knight agreed to try, and got
on slowly but surely; for the colt was a gallant fellow, and soon
learned to love his new master, though he was freakish and wild.
Every day, when he gave his lessons to this pet of the king's, the
<span class="pagenum">[Pg 158]</span>
knight rode him through the city; and, as he rode, he looked everywhere
for a certain beautiful face, which he had seen many times in
his dreams, but never found. One day, as he went
prancing down a quiet street, he saw at the window
of a ruinous castle the lovely face. He was delighted,
inquired who lived in this old castle, and was told
that several captive princesses were kept there by a
spell, and spun all day to lay up money to buy
their liberty. The knight wished intensely that
he could free them; but he was poor, and could
only go by each day, watching for the
sweet face, and longing to see it out in the
sunshine. At last, he resolved to
get into the castle and ask how he
could help them. He went and
knocked; the great door flew open,
and he beheld—"</p>
<p class="indent">"A ravishingly lovely lady, who
exclaimed, with a cry of rapture,
'At last! at last!'" continued Kate,
who had read French novels, and
admired the style. "''Tis she!'
cried Count Gustave, and fell at her
feet in an ecstasy of joy. 'Oh, rise!'
she said, extending a hand of marble
fairness. 'Never! till you tell
me how I may rescue you,' swore the knight, still kneeling. 'Alas, my
cruel fate condemns me to remain here till my tyrant is destroyed.'
'Where is the villain?' 'In the mauve salon. Go, brave heart, and save
me from despair.' 'I obey, and return victorious or dead!' With
these thrilling words he rushed away, and flinging open the door of the
mauve salon, was about to enter, when he received—"</p>
<div class="figcenter"> <SPAN name="b067.png" id="b067.png"></SPAN> <ANTIMG src="images/b067.png" width-obs="400" height-obs="461" alt=""Oh, rise," she said" title=""Oh, rise," she said" /></div>
<div class="figright"> <SPAN name="b067a.png" id="b067a.png"></SPAN>
<ANTIMG src="images/b067a.png" width-obs="400" height-obs="421" alt="A stunning blow from the big Greek lexicon" title="A stunning blow from the big Greek lexicon" /></div>
<p class="indent">"A stunning blow from the big Greek lexicon, which an old fellow
in a black gown fired at him," said Ned. "Instantly Sir What's-his-name
recovered himself, pitched the tyrant out of the window, and
turned to join the lady, victorious, but with a bump on his brow;
<span class="pagenum">[Pg 159]</span>
found the door locked, tore up the curtains, made a rope ladder, got
half-way down when the ladder broke, and he went head first into the
moat, sixty feet below. Could
swim like a duck, paddled round
the castle till he came to a little
door guarded by two stout fellows;
knocked their heads together
till they cracked like a
couple of nuts, then, by a
trifling exertion of his prodigious
strength, he smashed in
the door, went up a pair of stone
steps covered with dust a foot
thick, toads as big as your fist,
and spiders that would frighten
<span class="pagenum">[Pg 160]</span>
you into hysterics, Miss March. At the top of these steps he came
plump upon a sight that took his breath away and chilled his blood—"</p>
<p class="indent">"A tall figure, all in white with a veil over its face and a lamp in
its wasted hand," went on Meg. "It beckoned, gliding noiselessly
before him down a corridor as dark and cold as any tomb. Shadowy
effigies in armor stood on either side, a dead silence reigned, the
lamp burned blue, and the ghostly figure ever and anon turned its
face toward him, showing the glitter of awful eyes through its white
veil. They reached a curtained
door, behind which sounded
lovely music; he sprang forward
to enter, but the spectre
plucked him back, and waved
threateningly before him a—"</p>
<div class="figleft"> <SPAN name="b068.png" id="b068.png"></SPAN>
<ANTIMG src="images/b068.png" width-obs="400" height-obs="473" alt="He sneezed" title="He sneezed" /></div>
<p class="indent">"Snuff-box," said Jo, in a sepulchral
tone, which convulsed
the audience. "'Thankee,'
said the knight politely, as he
took a pinch, and sneezed seven
times so violently that his head
fell off. 'Ha! ha!' laughed
the ghost; and having peeped
through the key-hole at the
princesses spinning away for
dear life, the evil spirit picked
up her victim and put him in a large tin box, where there were eleven
other knights packed together without their heads, like sardines, who
all rose and began to—"</p>
<p class="indent">"Dance a hornpipe," cut in Fred, as Jo paused for breath; "and,
as they danced, the rubbishy old castle turned to a man-of-war in full
sail. 'Up with the jib, reef the tops'l halliards, helm hard a-lee, and
man the guns!' roared the captain, as a Portuguese pirate hove in
sight, with a flag black as ink flying from her foremast. 'Go in and
win, my hearties!' says the captain; and a tremendous fight begun.
Of course the British beat; they always do."</p>
<p class="indent">"No, they don't!" cried Jo, aside.</p>
<div class="figright"> <SPAN name="b069.png" id="b069.png"></SPAN>
<ANTIMG src="images/b069.png" width-obs="400" height-obs="415" alt="The Portuguese walked the plank" title="The Portuguese walked the plank" /></div>
<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 161]</span>
"Having taken the pirate captain prisoner, sailed slap over the
schooner, whose decks were piled with dead, and whose lee-scuppers
ran blood, for the order had been 'Cutlasses, and die hard!' 'Bosen's
mate, take a bight of the flying-jib sheet, and start this villain if he
don't confess his sins double quick,' said the British captain. The
Portuguese held his tongue
like a brick, and walked
the plank, while the jolly
tars cheered like mad. But
the sly dog dived, came up
under the man-of-war, scuttled
her, and down she
went, with all sail set, 'To
the bottom of the sea, sea,
sea,' where—"</p>
<p class="indent">"Oh, gracious! what
<i>shall</i> I say?" cried Sallie,
as Fred ended his rigmarole,
in which he had jumbled
together, pell-mell,
nautical phrases and facts, out of one of his favorite books. "Well
they went to the bottom, and a nice mermaid welcomed them, but was
much grieved on finding the box of headless knights, and kindly pickled
them in brine, hoping to discover the mystery about them; for, being
a woman, she was curious. By and by a diver came down, and the
mermaid said, 'I'll give you this box of pearls if you can take it up;'
for she wanted to restore the poor things to life, and couldn't raise
the heavy load herself. So the diver hoisted it up, and was much
disappointed, on opening it, to find no pearls. He left it in a great
lonely field, where it was found by a—"</p>
<p class="indent">"Little goose-girl, who kept a hundred fat geese in the field," said
Amy, when Sallie's invention gave out. "The little girl was sorry for
them, and asked an old woman what she should do to help them.
'Your geese will tell you, they know everything,' said the old woman.
So she asked what she should use for new heads, since the old ones
were lost, and all the geese opened their hundred mouths and
screamed—"</p>
<div class="figleft"> <SPAN name="b070.png" id="b070.png"></SPAN>
<ANTIMG src="images/b070.png" width-obs="311" height-obs="700" alt="Will you give me a rose?" title="Will you give me a rose?" /></div>
<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 162]</span>
"'Cabbages!'" continued Laurie promptly. "'Just the thing,' said
the girl, and ran to get twelve fine ones from her garden. She put
them on, the knights revived at once, thanked her, and went on their
way rejoicing, never knowing the difference, for
there were so many other heads like them in the
world that no one thought anything of it. The
knight in whom I'm interested went back to
find the pretty face, and learned that the princesses
had spun themselves free, and all gone
to be married, but one. He was in a
great state of mind at that; and mounting
the colt, who stood by him through
thick and thin, rushed to the castle to
see which was left. Peeping over the
hedge, he saw the queen of his affections
picking flowers in her garden. 'Will you
give me a rose?' said he. 'You must
come and get it. I can't come to you;
it isn't proper,' said she, as sweet as
honey. He tried to climb over the
hedge, but it seemed to grow higher
and higher; then he tried to push
through, but it grew thicker and
thicker, and he was in despair.
So he patiently broke twig after
twig, till he had made a little
hole, through which he peeped,
saying imploringly, 'Let me
in! let me in!' But the pretty
princess did not seem to understand,
for she picked her roses
quietly, and left him to fight his
way in. Whether he did or not, Frank will tell you."</p>
<p class="indent">"I can't; I'm not playing, I never do," said Frank, dismayed at
the sentimental predicament out of which he was to rescue the absurd
couple. Beth had disappeared behind Jo, and Grace was asleep.</p>
<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 163]</span>
"So the poor knight is to be left sticking in the hedge, is he?"
asked Mr. Brooke, still watching the river, and playing with the wild
rose in his button-hole.</p>
<p class="indent">"I guess the princess gave him a posy, and opened the gate, after
a while," said Laurie, smiling to himself, as he threw acorns at his
tutor.</p>
<p class="indent">"What a piece of nonsense we have made! With practice we
might do something quite clever. Do you know 'Truth'?" asked
Sallie, after they had laughed over their story.</p>
<p class="indent">"I hope so," said Meg soberly.</p>
<p class="indent">"The game, I mean?"</p>
<p class="indent">"What is it?" said Fred.</p>
<p class="indent">"Why, you pile up your hands, choose a number, and draw out in
turn, and the person who draws at the number has to answer truly
any questions put by the rest. It's great fun."</p>
<p class="indent">"Let's try it," said Jo, who liked new experiments.</p>
<p class="indent">Miss Kate and Mr. Brooke, Meg, and Ned declined, but Fred,
Sallie, Jo, and Laurie piled and drew; and the lot fell to Laurie.</p>
<p class="indent">"Who are your heroes?" asked Jo.</p>
<p class="indent">"Grandfather and Napoleon."</p>
<p class="indent">"Which lady here do you think prettiest?" said Sallie.</p>
<p class="indent">"Margaret."</p>
<p class="indent">"Which do you like best?" from Fred.</p>
<p class="indent">"Jo, of course."</p>
<p class="indent">"What silly questions you ask!" and Jo gave a disdainful shrug as
the rest laughed at Laurie's matter-of-fact tone.</p>
<p class="indent">"Try again; Truth isn't a bad game," said Fred.</p>
<p class="indent">"It's a very good one for you," retorted Jo, in a low voice.</p>
<p class="indent">Her turn came next.</p>
<p class="indent">"What is your greatest fault?" asked Fred, by way of testing in
her the virtue he lacked himself.</p>
<p class="indent">"A quick temper."</p>
<p class="indent">"What do you most wish for?" said Laurie.</p>
<p class="indent">"A pair of boot-lacings," returned Jo, guessing and defeating his
purpose.</p>
<p class="indent">"Not a true answer; you must say what you really do want most."</p>
<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 164]</span>
"Genius; don't you wish you could give it to me, Laurie?" and
she slyly smiled in his disappointed face.</p>
<p class="indent">"What virtues do you most admire in a man?" asked Sallie.</p>
<p class="indent">"Courage and honesty."</p>
<p class="indent">"Now my turn," said Fred, as his hand came last.</p>
<p class="indent">"Let's give it to him," whispered Laurie to Jo, who nodded, and
asked at once,—</p>
<p class="indent">"Didn't you cheat at croquet?"</p>
<p class="indent">"Well, yes, a little bit."</p>
<p class="indent">"Good! Didn't you take your story out of 'The Sea-Lion?'"
said Laurie.</p>
<p class="indent">"Rather."</p>
<p class="indent">"Don't you think the English nation perfect in every respect?"
asked Sallie.</p>
<p class="indent">"I should be ashamed of myself if I didn't."</p>
<p class="indent">"He's a true John Bull. Now, Miss Sallie, you shall have a chance
without waiting to draw. I'll harrow up your feelings first, by asking
if you don't think you are something of a flirt," said Laurie, as Jo
nodded to Fred, as a sign that peace was declared.</p>
<p class="indent">"You impertinent boy! of course I'm not," exclaimed Sallie, with
an air that proved the contrary.</p>
<p class="indent">"What do you hate most?" asked Fred.</p>
<p class="indent">"Spiders and rice-pudding."</p>
<p class="indent">"What do you like best?" asked Jo.</p>
<p class="indent">"Dancing and French gloves."</p>
<p class="indent">"Well, <i>I</i> think Truth is a very silly play; let's have a sensible
game of Authors, to refresh our minds," proposed Jo.</p>
<p class="indent">Ned, Frank, and the little girls joined in this, and, while it went on,
the three elders sat apart, talking. Miss Kate took out her sketch
again, and Margaret watched her, while Mr. Brooke lay on the grass,
with a book, which he did not read.</p>
<p class="indent">"How beautifully you do it! I wish I could draw," said Meg,
with mingled admiration and regret in her voice.</p>
<p class="indent">"Why don't you learn? I should think you had taste and talent
for it," replied Miss Kate graciously.</p>
<p class="indent">"I haven't time."</p>
<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 165]</span>
"Your mamma prefers other accomplishments, I fancy. So did
mine; but I proved to her that I had talent, by taking a few lessons
privately, and then she was quite willing I should go on. Can't you
do the same with your governess?"</p>
<p class="indent">"I have none."</p>
<p class="indent">"I forgot; young ladies in America go to school more than with
us. Very fine schools they are, too, papa says. You go to a private
one, I suppose?"</p>
<p class="indent">"I don't go at all; I am a governess myself."</p>
<p class="indent">"Oh, indeed!" said Miss Kate; but she might as well have said,
"Dear me, how dreadful!" for her tone implied it, and something
in her face made Meg color, and wish she had not been so frank.</p>
<p class="indent">Mr. Brooke looked up, and said quickly, "Young ladies in America
love independence as much as their ancestors did, and are admired
and respected for supporting themselves."</p>
<p class="indent">"Oh, yes; of course it's very nice and proper in them to do so.
We have many most respectable and worthy young women, who do
the same and are employed by the nobility, because, being the daughters
of gentlemen, they are both well-bred and accomplished, you
know," said Miss Kate, in a patronizing tone, that hurt Meg's pride,
and made her work seem not only more distasteful, but degrading.</p>
<p class="indent">"Did the German song suit, Miss March?" inquired Mr. Brooke,
breaking an awkward pause.</p>
<p class="indent">"Oh, yes! it was very sweet, and I'm much obliged to whoever
translated it for me;" and Meg's downcast face brightened as she
spoke.</p>
<p class="indent">"Don't you read German?" asked Miss Kate, with a look of surprise.</p>
<p class="indent">"Not very well. My father, who taught me, is away, and I don't
get on very fast alone, for I've no one to correct my pronunciation."</p>
<p class="indent">"Try a little now; here is Schiller's 'Mary Stuart,' and a tutor who
loves to teach," and Mr. Brooke laid his book on her lap, with an inviting
smile.</p>
<p class="indent">"It's so hard I'm afraid to try," said Meg, grateful, but bashful in
the presence of the accomplished young lady beside her.</p>
<p class="indent">"I'll read a bit to encourage you;" and Miss Kate read one of
<span class="pagenum">[Pg 166]</span>
the most beautiful passages, in a perfectly correct but perfectly expressionless
manner.</p>
<p class="indent">Mr. Brooke made no comment, as she returned the book to Meg,
who said innocently,—</p>
<p class="indent">"I thought it was poetry."</p>
<p class="indent">"Some of it is. Try this passage."</p>
<p class="indent">There was a queer smile about Mr. Brooke's mouth as he opened
at poor Mary's lament.</p>
<p class="indent">Meg, obediently following the long grass-blade which her new tutor
used to point with, read slowly and timidly, unconsciously making poetry
of the hard words by the soft intonation of her musical voice.
Down the page went the green guide, and presently, forgetting her
listener in the beauty of the sad scene, Meg read as if alone, giving
a little touch of tragedy to the words of the unhappy queen. If
she had seen the brown eyes then, she would have stopped short;
but she never looked up, and the lesson was not spoiled for her.</p>
<p class="indent">"Very well indeed!" said Mr. Brooke, as she paused, quite ignoring
her many mistakes, and looking as if he did, indeed, "love to
teach."</p>
<p class="indent">Miss Kate put up her glass, and, having taken a survey of the little
tableau before her, shut her sketch-book, saying, with condescension,—</p>
<div class="figcenter"> <SPAN name="b071.png" id="b071.png"></SPAN> <ANTIMG src="images/b071.png" width-obs="400" height-obs="466" alt="Miss Kate put up her glass" title="Miss Kate put up her glass" /></div>
<p class="indent">"You've a nice accent, and, in time, will be a clever reader. I
advise you to learn, for German is a valuable accomplishment to
teachers. I must look after Grace, she is romping;" and Miss Kate
strolled away, adding to herself, with a shrug, "I didn't come to
chaperone a governess, though she <i>is</i> young and pretty. What odd
people these Yankees are; I'm afraid Laurie will be quite spoilt
among them."</p>
<p class="indent">"I forgot that English people rather turn up their noses at governesses,
and don't treat them as we do," said Meg, looking after the
retreating figure with an annoyed expression.</p>
<p class="indent">"Tutors, also, have rather a hard time of it there, as I know to my
sorrow. There's no place like America for us workers, Miss Margaret;"
and Mr. Brooke looked so contented and cheerful, that Meg
was ashamed to lament her hard lot.</p>
<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 167]</span>
"I'm glad I live in it then. I don't like my work, but I get a
good deal of satisfaction out of it after all, so I won't complain; I
only wish I liked teaching as you do."</p>
<p class="indent">"I think you would if you had Laurie for a pupil. I shall be very
sorry to lose him next year," said Mr. Brooke, busily punching holes
in the turf.</p>
<p class="indent">"Going to college, I suppose?" Meg's lips asked that question,
but her eyes added, "And what becomes of you?"</p>
<p class="indent">"Yes; it's high time he went, for he is ready; and as soon as he is
off, I shall turn soldier. I am needed."</p>
<p class="indent">"I am glad of that!" exclaimed Meg. "I should think every
young man would want to go; though it is hard for the mothers and
sisters who stay at home," she added sorrowfully.</p>
<p class="indent">"I have neither, and very few friends, to care whether I live or
die," said Mr. Brooke, rather bitterly, as he absently put the dead
rose in the hole he had made and covered it up, like a little grave.</p>
<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 168]</span>
"Laurie and his grandfather would care a great deal, and we should
all be very sorry to have any harm happen to you," said Meg heartily.</p>
<p class="indent">"Thank you; that sounds pleasant," began Mr. Brooke, looking
cheerful again; but before he could finish his speech, Ned, mounted
on the old horse, came lumbering up to display his equestrian skill
before the young ladies, and there was no more quiet that day.</p>
<p class="indent">"Don't you love to ride?" asked Grace of Amy, as they stood
resting, after a race round the field with the others, led by Ned.</p>
<p class="indent">"I dote upon it; my sister Meg used to ride when papa was rich,
but we don't keep any horses now, except Ellen Tree," added Amy,
laughing.</p>
<p class="indent">"Tell me about Ellen Tree; is it a donkey?" asked Grace curiously.</p>
<div class="figcenter"> <SPAN name="b072.png" id="b072.png"></SPAN> <ANTIMG src="images/b072.png" width-obs="524" height-obs="400" alt="Ellen Tree" title="Ellen Tree" /></div>
<p class="indent">"Why, you see, Jo is crazy about horses, and so am I, but we've
only got an old side-saddle, and no horse. Out in our garden is an
apple-tree, that has a nice low branch; so Jo put the saddle on it,
fixed some reins on the part that turns up, and we bounce away on
Ellen Tree whenever we like."</p>
<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 169]</span>
"How funny!" laughed Grace. "I have a pony at home, and ride
nearly every day in the park, with Fred and Kate; it's very nice,
for my friends go too, and the Row is full of ladies and gentlemen."</p>
<p class="indent">"Dear, how charming! I hope I shall go abroad some day; but
I'd rather go to Rome than the Row," said Amy, who had not the
remotest idea what the Row was, and wouldn't have asked for the
world.</p>
<p class="indent">Frank, sitting just behind the little girls, heard what they were
saying, and pushed his crutch away from him with an impatient gesture
as he watched the active lads going through all sorts of comical
gymnastics. Beth, who was collecting the scattered Author-cards,
looked up, and said, in her shy yet friendly way,—</p>
<p class="indent">"I'm afraid you are tired; can I do anything for you?"</p>
<p class="indent">"Talk to me, please; it's dull, sitting by myself," answered Frank,
who had evidently been used to being made much of at home.</p>
<p class="indent">If he had asked her to deliver a Latin oration, it would not have
seemed a more impossible task to bashful Beth; but there was no
place to run to, no Jo to hide behind now, and the poor boy looked
so wistfully at her, that she bravely resolved to try.</p>
<p class="indent">"What do you like to talk about?" she asked, fumbling over the
cards, and dropping half as she tried to tie them up.</p>
<p class="indent">"Well, I like to hear about cricket and boating and hunting," said
Frank, who had not yet learned to suit his amusements to his strength.</p>
<p class="indent">"My heart! what shall I do? I don't know anything about
them," thought Beth; and, forgetting the boy's misfortune in her
flurry, she said, hoping to make him talk, "I never saw any hunting,
but I suppose you know all about it."</p>
<p class="indent">"I did once; but I can never hunt again, for I got hurt leaping
a confounded five-barred gate; so there are no more horses and
hounds for me," said Frank, with a sigh that made Beth hate herself
for her innocent blunder.</p>
<p class="indent">"Your deer are much prettier than our ugly buffaloes," she said,
turning to the prairies for help, and feeling glad that she had read one
of the boys' books in which Jo delighted.</p>
<p class="indent">Buffaloes proved soothing and satisfactory; and, in her eagerness
to amuse another, Beth forgot herself, and was quite unconscious
<span class="pagenum">[Pg 170]</span>
of her sisters' surprise and delight at the unusual spectacle of Beth
talking away to one of the dreadful boys, against whom she had
begged protection.</p>
<p class="indent">"Bless her heart! She pities him, so she is good to him," said Jo,
beaming at her from the croquet-ground.</p>
<p class="indent">"I always said she was a little saint," added Meg, as if there could
be no further doubt of it.</p>
<p class="indent">"I haven't heard Frank laugh so much for ever so long," said
Grace to Amy, as they sat discussing dolls, and making tea-sets out
of the acorn-cups.</p>
<p class="indent">"My sister Beth is a very <i>fastidious</i> girl, when she likes to be,"
said Amy, well pleased at Beth's success. She meant "fascinating,"
but as Grace didn't know the exact meaning of either word, "fastidious"
sounded well, and made a good impression.</p>
<p class="indent">An impromptu circus, fox and geese, and an amicable game of croquet,
finished the afternoon. At sunset the tent was struck, hampers
packed, wickets pulled up, boats loaded, and the whole party floated
down the river, singing at the tops of their voices. Ned, getting sentimental,
warbled a serenade with the pensive refrain,—</p>
<p class="center">"Alone, alone, ah! woe, alone,"</p>
<p>and at the lines—</p>
<div class="poem">
<div class="stanza">
<span class="i2">"We each are young, we each have a heart,</span><br/>
<span class="i2">Oh, why should we stand thus coldly apart?"</span></div>
</div>
<p>he looked at Meg with such a lackadaisical expression that she
laughed outright and spoilt his song.</p>
<p class="indent">"How can you be so cruel to me?" he whispered, under cover of
a lively chorus. "You've kept close to that starched-up Englishwoman
all day, and now you snub me."</p>
<p class="indent">"I didn't mean to; but you looked so funny I really couldn't
help it," replied Meg, passing over the first part of his reproach; for
it was quite true that she <i>had</i> shunned him, remembering the Moffat
party and the talk after it.</p>
<p class="indent">Ned was offended, and turned to Sallie for consolation, saying
to her rather pettishly, "There isn't a bit of flirt in that girl, is
there?"</p>
<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 171]</span>
"Not a particle; but she's a dear," returned Sallie, defending her
friend even while confessing her short-comings.</p>
<p class="indent">"She's not a stricken deer, any way," said Ned, trying to be witty,
and succeeding as well as very young gentlemen usually do.</p>
<p class="indent">On the lawn, where it had gathered, the little party separated with
cordial good-nights and good-byes, for the Vaughns were going to
Canada. As the four sisters went home through the garden, Miss
Kate looked after them, saying, without the patronizing tone in her
voice, "In spite of their demonstrative manners, American girls are
very nice when one knows them."</p>
<p class="indent">"I quite agree with you," said Mr. Brooke.</p>
<div class="figcenter"> <SPAN name="b073.png" id="b073.png"></SPAN> <ANTIMG src="images/b073.png" width-obs="565" height-obs="400" alt="Tail-piece" title="Tail-piece" /></div>
<hr class="hr2" />
<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 172]</span></p>
<div class="figcenter"> <SPAN name="b074.png" id="b074.png"></SPAN> <ANTIMG src="images/b074.png" width-obs="501" height-obs="400" alt="Swinging to and fro in his hammock" title="Swinging to and fro in his hammock" /></div>
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />