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[Illustration: SHE ADDED WOOD TO THE FIRE]
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A LITTLE MAID OF OLD MAINE
BY
ALICE TURNER CURTIS
AUTHOR OF
A LITTLE MAID OF PROVINCE TOWN
A LITTLE MAID OF MASSACHUSETTS COLONY
A LITTLE MAID OF NARRAGANSETT BAY
A LITTLE MAID OF BUNKER HILL
A LITTLE MAID OF TICONDEROGA
A LITTLE MAID OF OLD CONNECTICUT
A LITTLE MAID OF OLD PHILADELPHIA
A LITTLE MAID OF OLD NEW YORK
A LITTLE MAID OF VIRGINIA
ILLUSTRATED BY ELIZABETH PILSBRY
THE PENN PUBLISHING COMPANY
PHILADELPHIA 1928
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COPYRIGHT
1920 BY
THE PENN
PUBLISHING
COMPANY
A Little Maid of Old Maine
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INTRODUCTION
"A LITTLE MAID OF OLD MAINE" is a true story of the brave effort of two
girls to bring help to a little settlement on the Maine coast at the
time of the War of the Revolution. Parson Lyon, the father of Melvina,
was a friend and correspondent of Washington, and the capture of the
English gunboat by the Machias men is often referred to in history as
"The Lexington of the Seas," being the first naval battle after the
Lexington encounter.
The story is based on facts, and its readers cannot fail to be
interested and touched by the courage and patriotism of Rebecca and Anna
Weston as they journeyed through the forest after the powder that was to
make possible the conquest of America's foe.
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CONTENTS
I. A LIBERTY POLE 9
II. REBECCA'S SECRET 19
III. MELVINA MAKES DISCOVERIES 33
IV. AT MR. LYON'S 45
V. A BIRTHDAY 57
VI. LUCIA HAS A PLAN 68
VII. "A TRAITOR'S DEED" 79
VIII. "WHITE WITCHES" 90
IX. REBECCA'S VISIT 102
X. AN AFTERNOON WALK 112
XI. AN EXCHANGE OF VISITS 121
XII. WILD HONEY 133
XIII. DOWN THE RIVER 143
XIV. AN UNINVITED GUEST 152
XV. REBBY AND LUCIA 165
XVI. REBBY DECIDES 178
XVII. A PERILOUS JOURNEY 189
XVIII. TRIUMPH 205
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ILLUSTRATIONS
SHE ADDED WOOD TO THE FIRE Frontispiece
PAGE
"WE'LL WADE OUT TO FLAT ROCK" 34
"BUT WHICH ONE IS TO BE MINE?" 77
HOW LONG THE AFTERNOON SEEMED! 127
A MAN CAME AROUND THE CORNER OF THE HOUSE 175
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A LITTLE MAID OF OLD MAINE
CHAPTER I
A LIBERTY POLE
Anna and Rebecca Weston, carrying a big basket between them, ran along
the path that led from their home to the Machias River. It was a
pleasant May morning in 1775, and the air was filled with the fragrance
of the freshly cut pine logs that had been poled down the river in big
rafts to be cut into planks and boards at the big sawmills. The river,
unusually full with the spring rains, dashed against its banks as if
inviting the little girls to play a game with it. Usually Anna and
Rebecca were quite ready to linger at the small coves which crept in so
near to the footpath, and sail boats made of pieces of birch-bark, with
alder twigs for masts and broad oak leaves for sails. They named these
boats _Polly_ and _Unity_, after the two fine sloops which carried
lumber from Machias to Boston and returned with cargoes of provisions
for the little settlement.
But this morning the girls hurried along without a thought for such
pleasant games. They were both anxious to get to the lumber yard as soon
as possible, not only to fill their basket with chips, as their mother
had bidden them, but to hear if there were not some news of the _Polly_,
the return of which was anxiously awaited; for provisions were getting
scarce in this remote village, and not until the _Polly_ should come
sailing into harbor could there be any sugar cakes, or even bread made
of wheat flour.
As they hurried along they heard the cheerful whistle of Mr. Worden
Foster, the blacksmith, who was just then taking a moment of well-earned
leisure in the door of his shop, and stood looking out across the quiet
waters of the river and harbor. As the girls came near he nodded
pleasantly, but did not stop whistling. People in Machias declared that
the blacksmith woke up in the morning whistling, and never stopped
except to eat. And, indeed, his little daughter Luretta said that when
her father wanted a second helping of anything at the table he would
whistle and point toward it with his knife; so it might be said that
Mr. Foster whistled even at his meals.
"There's Father! There's Father!" Anna called out as they passed a big
pile of pine logs and came to where stacks of smooth boards just from
the sawmill shut the river from sight.
"Well, Danna, do you and Rebby want your basket filled with golden
oranges from sunny Italy and dates from Egypt? Or shall it be with
Brazilian nuts and ripe pineapples from South America?"
"Oh, Father! Say some more!" exclaimed Anna, laughing with delight; for
she never tired of hearing her father tell of the wonderful fruits of
far-off lands that he had seen in his sailor days, before he came to
live in the little settlement of Machias, in the Province of Maine, and
manage the big sawmill.
"Father, tell us, is the _Polly_ coming up the bay?" Rebecca asked
eagerly. She had a particular reason for wanting the sloop to reach
harbor as soon as possible, for her birthday was close at hand, and her
father had told her that the _Polly_ was bringing her a fine gift; but
what it was Rebecca could not imagine. She had guessed everything from a
gold ring to a prayer-book; but at every guess her father had only
smilingly shook his head.
"No sign of the _Polly_ yet, Rebby," Mr. Weston replied.
Rebecca sighed as her father called her "Rebby," and a little frown
showed itself on her forehead. She was nearly fourteen, and she had
decided that neither "Rebecca" nor "Rebby" were names that suited her.
Her middle name was "Flora," and only that morning Anna had promised not
to call her by any other name save Flora in future.
Mr. Weston smiled down at Rebecca's serious face.
"So 'tis not spices from far Arabia, or strings of pink coral, this
morning," he continued, taking the basket, "but pine chips. Well, come
over here and we will soon fill the basket," and he led the way to where
two men were at work with sharp adzes smoothing down a big stick of
timber.
In a few minutes the basket was filled, and the little girls were on
their way home.
"Would it not be a fine thing, Rebby, if we could really fill our basket
with pineapples and sweet-smelling spices?" said Anna, her brown eyes
looking off into space, as if she fancied she could see the wonderful
things of which her father spoke; "and do you not wish that we were both
boys, and could go sailing off to see far lands?"
"Anna! Only this morning you promised to call me 'Flora,' and now it is
'Rebby,' 'Rebby.' And as for 'far lands'--of course I don't want to see
them. Have you not heard Father say that there were no more beautiful
places in all the world than the shores of this Province?" responded
Rebecca reprovingly. She sometimes thought that it would have been far
better if Anna had really been a boy instead of a girl; for the younger
girl delighted to be called "Dan," and had persuaded her mother to keep
her brown curls cut short "like a boy's"; beside this, Anna cared little
for dolls, and was completely happy when her father would take her with
him for a day's deep-sea fishing, an excursion which Rebecca could never
be persuaded to attempt. Anna was also often her father's companion on
long tramps in the woods, where he went to mark trees to be cut for
timber. She wore moccasins on these trips, made by the friendly Indians
who often visited the little settlement, and her mother had made her a
short skirt of tanned deerskin, such as little Indian girls sometimes
wear, and with her blue blouse of homespun flannel, and round cap with a
partridge wing on one side, Anna looked like a real little daughter of
the woods as she trotted sturdily along beside her tall father.
As the sisters passed the blacksmith shop they could hear the ringing
stroke on the anvil, for Mr. Foster had returned to his work of
hammering out forks for pitching hay and grain; these same forks which
were fated to be used before many months passed as weapons against the
enemies of American liberty.
"To-morrow I am to go with Father to the woods," announced Anna as they
came in sight of the comfortable log cabin which stood high above the
river, and where they could see their mother standing in the doorway
looking for their return. The girls waved and called to their mother as
they hurried up the path.
"We have fine chips, Mother," called Rebecca, while Anna in a sing-song
tone called out: "Pineapples and sweet-smelling spices! Strings of pink
coral and shells from far lands."
Rebecca sighed to herself as she heard Anna's laughing recital of their
father's words. She resolved to ask her mother to forbid Anna talking
in future in such a silly way.
"You are good children to go and return so promptly," said Mrs. Weston,
"but you are none too soon, for 'twill take a good blow with the bellows
to liven up the coals, and I have a fine venison steak to broil for
dinner," and as she spoke Mrs. Weston took the basket and hurried into
the house, followed by the girls.
"Mother, what is a 'liberty pole'?" questioned Anna, kneeling on the
hearth to help her mother start the fire with the pine chips.
"What dost thou mean, child? Surely the men are not talking of such
matters as liberty poles?" responded her mother anxiously.
Anna nodded her head. "Yes, Mother. There is to be a 'liberty pole' set
up so it can be well seen from the harbor, for so I heard Mr. O'Brien
say; and Father is to go to the woods to-morrow to find it. It is to be
the straightest and handsomest sapling pine to be found in a day's
journey; that much I know," declared Anna eagerly; "but tell me why is
it to be called a 'liberty pole'? And why is it to be set up so it can
be well seen from the harbor?"
"Thou knowest, Anna, that King George of England is no longer the true
friend of American liberty," said Mrs. Weston, "and the liberty pole is
set up to show all Tories on land or sea that we mean to defend our
homes. And if the men are talking of putting up the tree of liberty in
Machias I fear that trouble is near at hand. But be that as it may, our
talking of such matters will not make ready thy father's dinner. Blaze
up the fire with these chips, Anna; and thou, Rebby, spread the table."
Both the girls hastened to obey; but Anna's thoughts were pleasantly
occupied with the morrow's excursion when she would set forth with her
father to discover the "handsome sapling pine tree," which was to be
erected as the emblem of the loyalty of the Machias settlement to
Freedom's call. Anna knew they would follow one of the Indian trails
through the forest, where she would see many a wild bird, and that the
day would be filled with delight.
But Rebecca's thoughts were not so pleasant. Here it was the fifth of
May, and no sign of the _Polly_, and on the tenth she would be fourteen;
and not a birthday gift could she hope for unless the sloop arrived.
Beside this, the talk of a liberty pole in Machias made her anxious and
unhappy. Only yesterday she had spent the afternoon with her most
particular friend, Lucia Horton, whose father was captain of the
_Polly_; and Lucia had told Rebecca something of such importance, after
vowing her to secrecy, that this talk of a liberty pole really
frightened her. And the thought that her own father was to select it
brought the danger very near. She wished that Lucia had kept the secret
to herself, and became worried and unhappy.
Rebecca was thinking of these things, and not of spreading the table,
when she went to the cupboard to bring out the pewter plates, and she
quite forgot her errand until her mother called:
"Rebby! Rebby! What are you about in the cupboard?" Then, bringing only
one plate instead of four, she came slowly back to the kitchen.
"What ails the child?" questioned Mrs. Weston sharply. "I declare, I
believe both of my children are losing their wits. Here is Anna making
rhymes and sing-songing her words in strange fashion; and thou, Rebecca,
a girl of nearly fourteen, careless of thy work, and standing before me
on one foot like a heron, staring at naught," and Mrs. Weston hurried to
the pantry for the forgotten dishes.
Anna smiled at her mother's sharp words, for she did not mind being
called a silly girl for rhyming words. "'Tis no harm," thought Anna,
"and my father says 'tis as natural as for the birds to sing;" so she
added more chips to the fire, and thought no more of it.
But Rebecca, who was used to being praised for her good sense and who
was seldom found fault with, had looked at her mother in surprise, and
the pewter plate fell from her hands and went clattering to the floor.
At that moment the door swung open and Mr. Weston entered the kitchen.
"Father! Father!" exclaimed Rebecca, running toward him, "you won't put
up a liberty pole, will you? You won't! Promise you won't, Father!" and
she clasped his arm with both hands.