AN UNINVITED GUEST
Paul and Mr. Weston started off at an early hour the next morning in
Paul's canoe to bring home the honey. Beside a tub they took with them a
number of buckets, for the old stump had a rich store of honey.
It was a time of leisure for the lumbering settlement. The drives of
logs had all come down the river and were safely in the booms. The mills
could not run as usual, for the conflict with England made it difficult
to send lumber to Boston. The crops were now planted, so Mr. Weston,
like other men of the settlement, had time for hunting and fishing or
for improving their simple homes. Some of the men passed a good part of
each day lounging around the shores and wharves, looking anxiously down
the harbor hoping to see Captain Jones' sloops returning with the
greatly needed provisions.
Rebecca was up in season to see her father start, but Anna, tired from
the adventure of the previous day, had not awakened.
"Is the liberty tree safe?" Rebby asked a little anxiously, as she
helped her mother about the household work that morning.
"Why, Rebby dear, what harm could befall it?" questioned her mother.
"The traitor who set it afloat will not dare cut it down. 'Tis a strange
thing that, search though they may, no trace can be found of the
rascals."
Rebecca's hands trembled, and she dared not look up. It seemed to the
little girl that if her mother should look into her eyes she would at
once know that she, Rebecca Flora Weston, who had been born in Boston,
and whose parents were loyal Americans, had committed the dreadful deed.
She wished with all her heart that she could tell her mother all that
Lucia Horton had said; but the promise bound her. She could never tell
anyone. Rebecca knew that she could never be happy again. "Not unless I
could do some fine thing to help America," she thought, a little
hopelessly; for what could a little girl, in a settlement far away from
all the strife, do to help the great cause for which unselfish men were
sacrificing everything?
Mrs. Weston was troubled about Rebecca. "The child has not really been
well since her birthday," she thought, "although I cannot think what the
trouble can be."
"Your father says that the honey is really yours, Rebby dear," continued
Mrs. Weston, "and that you may decide how it shall be disposed of."
"I don't care," Rebby responded, a little faintly. "Only, of course,
Paul ought to have half, because he helped."
"Yes, of course; but even then your share will be a good quantity," said
Mrs. Weston. Before Rebecca could speak Anna came running into the room,
her brown eyes shining, and her curls, now long enough to dance about
her face, falling over her brown cheeks.
As she ate her porridge her mother questioned her about the adventure of
the previous day, and for a time Rebby forgot her own worries in
listening to Anna's account of her journey in the leaking boat, and of
her leap to safety.
"It was not mischief, was it, Mother, to try and capture Trit?" she
concluded.
"No, indeed, dear child. Who could foresee such an adventure?" replied
Mrs. Weston. "And we are all proud that you did so well; that you did
not wander into the forest, where you would surely have been lost. I was
just asking Rebby what use we would make of the honey. Of course we want
to share it with our neighbors. 'Tis rare good fortune to have such a
store of sweets."
"Let's have a honey party," suggested Anna. "Could we not, Mother?"
"Why, that is a splendid idea!" declared Mrs. Weston. "'Twill cheer up
the whole settlement to be asked to a party. To be sure I can offer them
only honey; but perhaps 'twill take their minds from the _Polly_, and
from England's injustice toward us. Rebecca, you and Anna shall start
out at once and ask the neighbors as far as Mr. Lyon's house. That will
bring as many as twenty people. And tell each one to bring a cup and
spoon, as I have no extra dishes."
As soon as Anna had finished her breakfast the two girls put on their
sunbonnets and started on their pleasant errand. The neighbors were to
be asked to come the next afternoon for a taste of wild honey, and Mrs.
Weston again cautioned them to be sure and speak of the cup and spoon
that each guest was to bring.
"I wish I could offer them a dish of tea," thought Mrs. Weston, and then
reproached herself for the thought, for was not the tea tax one of
England's sins against the colonies, and had not loyal women refused to
brew a single cup until America gained her rights?
Mr. Foster was busy in his blacksmith shop. The mill men could be idle,
but Worden Foster hammered busily away day in and day out. His hay-forks
were always in demand, and he made many stout locks and keys, as well as
door-latches and hooks.
"Shall we ask him first?" questioned Anna.
"Yes," replied Rebecca. "He is our best neighbor, so 'tis right to ask
him first."
Rebecca and Anna stood in the open doorway for a moment watching the
glow of the forge and the bright sparks that sprang from the red bar of
iron which Mr. Foster was shaping into a spearhead.
He nodded toward his little visitors smilingly, and listened with
evident pleasure to Rebecca's invitation.
"But you tell me Paul is to have a good portion of the honey; 'tis
hardly fair we Fosters should come," he replied, and then added
quickly, "But why not let us have the neighbors, and divide the honey
that is left after the party?"
"Why, yes, sir; I think that will be a good plan," responded Rebby
soberly, "and perhaps Luretta will go with us to ask the neighbors."
Mr. Foster nodded again, whistling softly to himself, and as the little
girls bade him a polite "Good-morning" and went on toward his house they
could hear his whistle ring above the sound of his hammer.
Luretta came running to meet them.
"I was just coming to your house to thank you for Trit. Oh, Anna! You
are the bravest girl in the settlement. Paul says you are. And to think
you caught the rabbit for me." Luretta, quite out of breath, with her
arm across Anna's shoulders, looked admiringly at her friend.
"It's only fair," Anna replied, "because I lost yours." And then Anna
had to tell again the story of her capture of Trit. Luretta listened
eagerly. "I do wish I could have been with you, Danna," she said. But
Anna shook her head. "The boat would have sunk," she responded soberly.
Mrs. Foster thought the plan for a honey party an excellent idea, and
promised to come in good season; and Luretta was greatly pleased to go
with her friends to invite the neighbors.
"Will not Lucia Horton be pleased when we tell her about the honey?"
said Anna.
Rebecca stopped suddenly. "We are not to ask the Hortons," she
announced.
"Not ask Lucia! Why not?" questioned Anna, while Luretta looked at Rebby
with wondering eyes.
"No," Rebecca declared firmly. "The Hortons have a cupboard filled with
jellies, and candied fruits, and jars of syrups, and fine things from
the West Indies and from far places, and 'tis not fair. We have only the
wild bees' honey, a taste for each neighbor." Rebecca stopped with a
little sigh. She had not thought about not asking Lucia until Anna
spoke, but now she realized that, if she could help it, she would never
again go to the Hortons' house. Rebecca was old enough to realize the
difference between loyalty and selfish indecision, and she was sure that
the Hortons were thinking more of their own comfort than of the good of
America.
"But Lucia is your best friend," said Anna; "she gave you those
beautiful silk mitts on your birthday."
Rebecca's face colored. She made no answer. The silk mitts, she
resolved, must be given back. Probably she would never have another
pair; but never mind, if she gave up Lucia's friendship she must give up
the mitts.
For a few minutes the little girls walked on in silence, but Luretta was
eager to talk about Trit, and very soon she and Anna were talking
happily of plans to teach the captured rabbit, and were no longer
troubled by Rebecca's decision not to ask the Hortons to the honey
party. If they thought of it at all it was to agree with Rebby: that
people with a cupboard full of dainties, when their neighbors had only
the coarsest fare, ought not to be asked to share the wild honey.
Mrs. Lyon welcomed the little girls in a most friendly manner, and Anna
was made happy when the minister's wife said that she really believed
that Anna's stitches were as tiny and as neatly set as those of Melvina
herself.
"Melvina is out-of-doors," she continued; "I have decided that she is
much stronger to be in the open air a portion of each day, and London
has made her a playhouse under the pines behind the house."
Both Anna and Luretta hoped that Mrs. Lyon would ask them to go and see
Melvina's playhouse, but as she did not they said their polite
"Good-day, Mrs. Lyon," curtsied, and followed Rebecca down the path.
The invitations had now all been given and accepted, and Luretta was
eager to get home, urging Anna to stop and see Trit, who was safe in the
same box that had been made for the other rabbits.
"You may both run ahead if you wish," said Rebby with quite a grown-up
manner, for she really felt a great deal older than her little sister,
"and I will go straight home and tell Mother that everybody is coming."
"Everybody except the Hortons," Luretta reminded her.
"Yes; I meant everyone whom we had asked," Rebby rejoined.
Off ran the two younger girls, and Rebecca followed more slowly.
Although she had intended to go directly home she now decided to take
the path along the bluff and see for herself that the liberty tree stood
safe, defiant of all enemies. Rebby's thoughts were filled with a
certain fear that Lucia Horton might contrive some new plan to make away
with this emblem of freedom; and she gave an exclamation of
satisfaction as she saw the handsome young pine, well braced with rocks
and timber supports, standing on the bluff.
"The _Polly_ will see it first thing when she comes into harbor,"
thought Rebby, "and nobody will dare fire on it," and vaguely comforted
by this thought she started on toward home.
Mr. Weston and Paul were just landing their load of honey, and Rebecca
went down to the shore to tell them of the plan for the honey party, of
which they both approved. The tubs and buckets were all carried to the
Westons' and safely stored away in the big pantry.
Mrs. Foster and Mrs. Weston were talking over arrangements for the next
day. Mrs. Foster had suggested that they should each bake a quantity of
"spider-cakes." "They are thin and crispy, and will relish well with the
honey," she said, and Mrs. Weston agreed, although both the women
realized that by making these cakes they would diminish their household
stores of Indian meal almost to the danger point. But the _Polly_, with
her cargo of wheat flour, sugar, and other necessities, was long
overdue; she must soon come to their relief, they thought hopefully;
and if she failed to arrive why then they must do their best.
"The neighbors need something cheerful to think of," declared Mrs.
Foster, "and I am sure a taste of honey will cheer us all."
The next day was clear and warm with a pleasant southerly wind. Mr.
Weston decided to put up some seats under the tall elms, so that the
guests could enjoy the spring air. Paul was quite ready to help him;
they brought planks from the lumber yard, and long before the first
visitor arrived the low comfortable seats were ready.
Anna and Rebby were busy all the morning making small plates of
birch-bark, which they stripped from the big logs. These little plates
would each hold a square of "spider-cake" and a helping of honey; and as
the guests would bring their own cups, to be filled with clear spring
water, and their own spoons, the Westons felt that all was ready.
Rebby and Anna both wore their Sunday best, but their dresses were
carefully covered by their long pinafores. For they would serve each
guest, and it would not do that any careless movement should send a
stream of honey over their best gowns. Luretta and Melvina would also
help, and had been warned to bring pinafores to wear.
There was a pleasant air of excitement all through the little settlement
as the people, dressed in their simple best, walked along the path
leading to the Westons'. The minister and his wife, each holding Melvina
by the hand, were among the first comers.
"It was a friendly thought to ask your neighbors to share your good
fortune," said Mr. Lyon as he greeted Mrs. Weston.
"To tell the truth, 'twas Anna who first thought of it," she responded,
and was well pleased when Mrs. Lyon declared that she was not surprised
to hear it, as she considered Anna a very thoughtful and generous child.
Rebecca had forgotten for the time her own sense of unworthiness, and
was smiling happily as friend after friend arrived, when suddenly her
smile vanished. For coming up the path in a fine dress of pale yellow
muslin and wearing a flower-trimmed hat was Lucia Horton. No one but
Rebecca, of course, was surprised to see Lucia. It was to be expected
that she would be a guest at Rebecca's house. Anna and Luretta did not
see Lucia's arrival, but Rebby stood quite still, pale and angry, and
watched Lucia smiling and speaking to the neighbors. Then Lucia came
straight toward Rebecca, and, making an ugly face at her, exclaimed:
"Who is afraid of you, anyway, Rebecca Flora Weston?"