_THE PEACH-STONES._
THOSE peach-stones gave Maggie and Bessie a great deal to do. They were
very busy children in those days. On Monday mamma began again with
their lessons. They went to her for an hour each morning after they
came from their walk, said a reading and spelling lesson, a little of
the multiplication-table which Maggie said she was sure was made just
"to bother little girls," and a verse of poetry; and when the hour was
over, had a short sewing lesson. Maggie's "towel task," as she called
it, was done later in the day whenever her mamma had time to attend to
her.
As soon as the sewing lesson was over, they went to the yard to
look after the peach-stones. Patrick saved them all for Bessie, and
had found two boards for her on which she might dry them; and never
peach-stones needed so much attention. In the first place, there was
each morning the plate full which Patrick had collected from the table
to be washed and spread out on the boards, and the whole number counted
over and over again, for they could never make them twice the same.
Often when they went out, they found the cats had come over the fence,
and knocked them down into the earth of the flower-garden, and they
all had to be washed over again. Then Flossy, who was always with them
now, would insist on scrambling over the boards, and would send the
peach-stones flying in every direction, for he thought it fine fun to
see them rolling about. There is no telling how much they enjoyed all
this trouble, or how distressed they would have been, if it had been
suddenly brought to an end. Indeed, they were quite disappointed if
they found everything in good order when they went out in the yard.
"Margaret," said Mr. Bradford to his wife one day, as he sat at the
library window, watching his little daughters at their work, "how long
do you suppose it will take those peach-stones to dry at this rate?"
Mrs. Bradford laughed as she came and looked over his shoulder.
"Dear little things!" she said. "How they do enjoy it! I believe
they fancy they are doing the chief part of the work for our peach
preserves, besides gaining something to add to their store for the
library. I shall be sorry when the warm weather is at an end, and I
shall have to forbid them to play with water. It gives some trouble,
to be sure, in the matter of dresses and aprons, but I have not the
heart to stop them, while I do not fear they will take cold."
Nurse grumbled a good deal over the wet dresses and aprons.
"Who ever heard of such doings?" she said one day. "And what's the good
of it all? Them little ignoramuses out in the backwoods can't read your
books when they get 'em."
Maggie was very much displeased.
"You ought not to talk so, nursey," she said. "If those children
don't know how to read, they can be taught. And don't you like to do
missionary work?"
"Missionary work!" said nurse. "And do you think I'd leave my
comfortable home to go missioning?"
"That's because you're not so very good," said Maggie, gravely. "Miss
Winslow is going to leave her comfortable home, and go to teach those
little children that you called such an unpleasant name; and it's very
good of her. Besides, you needn't go away to do missionary work; you
can do it here if you choose."
"And how's that? I'd like to know," said nursey, whisking off Maggie's
wet dress.
"If we want to help people, we can do it without going away," said
Maggie, "and sometimes it's our duty to do it, and then that's our
mission; mamma said so. Now, nursey, don't you think you have a duty?"
"If I have, I don't need you to teach it to me," said nurse.
"No," said Maggie, "I am not going to teach you, 'cause you are old,
and I am little, but I am just going to enter an ex-plan-a-tion for
you, 'cause you don't seem to understand."
At this, Jane, who was dressing Bessie began to giggle, and nurse put
her head into the wardrobe, where the children's dresses lay.
"Now," Maggie went on, "you see Miss Winslow thinks it is her duty to
go and teach those log-cabin children, and that's her missionary work;
and it's Bessie's duty and mine to help her if we can, so it's our
missionary work to buy the library; and it's your duty to dress us if
we get ourselves wet while we earn the money, so that's your missionary
work; and you ought to do it with a cheerful mind, and not scold us."
Nurse tried to look grum, but the corners of her mouth were twitching,
and when she had fastened Maggie's dress, she gave her a hug and a kiss
which did not seem as though she were very angry.
As soon as the little girls had run away to their mamma's room, nurse
and Jane laughed heartily.
"Well, well," said nurse, "to hear the reasoning of her! And she has
the right of it, too, bless her heart, and just shames her old mammy."
After this, there was no more grumbling about the wet dresses.
One night there was a hard storm, and in the morning, when the children
went out, they found that the rain had washed sand and gravel all over
their precious peach-stones. This, of course, must be attended to
immediately, and it was quite a piece of work, for by this time they
had collected seven or eight hundred.
"We ought to have something large to wash them in," said Maggie. "What
can we find?"
Now, Mrs. Bradford had a new cook, who had only been in the house for
two or three days; and, as the children were seldom allowed to go into
the kitchen, she was as yet quite a stranger to them. This cook had not
a good temper, but she was very neat, and that morning she had been
making a great scrubbing and polishing of her tins, after which she put
them out in the sun. Looking about for something in which to wash their
peach-stones, Maggie and Bessie saw these tins, and among them a bright
new colander.
"Oh, that's just what we want," said Maggie. "Can we take it, Patrick?"
she asked of the good-natured waiter, who was cleaning knives in the
area.
"'Deed, and ye may," said Patrick, who thought his little ladies must
have everything they asked for.
Much delighted, the children filled the colander with peach-stones,
and, carrying it to the hydrant, turned on the water, thinking it fine
fun to see it stream through the holes of the colander.
Meanwhile Flossy, who was running about the yard, putting his nose into
everything, found a quantity of muffin-rings, and thinking that these
would be good things for him to play with, soon had them rolling about
in every direction; but our little girls were too busy to see that he
was in mischief.
It took some time to wash all the peach-stones, but they were done at
last, and just arranged again in regular rows upon the boards, when the
cook came out to take in her tins. Angry enough she was when she saw
the rings scattered around, and the clean, bright colander smeared with
sand and gravel; and terribly she scolded.
"How dare ye!" she said to Maggie and Bessie. "I'll teach ye to touch
my tins."
"They're not yours," said Bessie, "they are mamma's. Maggie and I were
with her the other day when she bought that basin with holes in, and
she only lent them to you; and, cook, we don't be talked to in that
way; mamma don't allow it."
This made the cook still more angry, and she scolded in a way quite
terrible to hear, while the children stood looking at her, too much
astonished and frightened to answer. But Flossy never heard any great
noise without trying to add his share, and he now began to bark at cook
with all his might.
"There now," said Patrick, "don't ye make such a fuss, Bridget, and
I'll just wash yer colander as clane as a new pin. They're not used to
sich talk, isn't the little ladies; for it's dacent people we are all,
Mrs. Bradford's help, and not a hard word among us at all, at all. Come
now, be civil; and do you run to your play, honeys; it is no harrum ye
have done."
But the cook would not be pacified, and scolded louder and louder,
while the more she scolded, the louder Flossy barked.
"Cook," said Bessie, "you are a very naughty woman, and I don't think
we'll keep you."
"Woof, woof," said Flossy.
"Be off with you," said cook. "You'll fly at me, will you?"
"Woof, woof," said Flossy.
The woman snatched up Patrick's knife-brick, and with a very bad word
to the children, was about to throw it at the puppy, when Patrick
caught her arm; and the frightened little ones, catching up their dog,
scampered off as fast as their feet could carry them.
Up the back steps and through piazza and hall, till they reached the
front stairs, where they sat down quite out of breath. For a moment or
two neither of them said a word, but sat looking at each other, as if
they did not know what to make of all this; while Flossy, thinking he
had made noise enough for this time, curled himself up in Maggie's lap
for a nap.
At last, Maggie gave a long sigh. "Oh, dear," she said, "what a
dreadful woman!"
"And what a wicked word she called us!" said Bessie. "Maggie, what
shall we do?"
"We'll have to tell mamma," said Maggie; "she ought to know it."
"But, how can we tell her? I don't like to say that word, and, Maggie,
I don't like you to say it either."
"But I s'pose we'll have to," said Maggie. "Mamma wouldn't like to have
a swearer in her house."
"And what will be done to the cook?" asked Bessie. "Will she be hung?"
"No, I guess not," answered Maggie. "I think they only hang people when
they kill somebody. But I s'pose she'll have to be took to prison.
Papa's a lawyer, and I guess he'll send her."
"I thought the policemen did that," said Bessie.
"I'll tell you," said Maggie. "You know papa goes down town?"
"Yes, to his office."
"And he goes to another place called 'court,'" said Maggie. "Well,
when somebody is very wicked, the police officer comes, and takes him
to the lawyer, and he says, 'Mister, this is a very naughty person who
has done something very bad;' and the lawyer says, 'Here, you, go to
prison, and just behave yourself.' And then the policeman takes him to
prison, and locks him up."
"Oh!" said Bessie, looking at her sister with great admiration, "what a
wise girl you are! You know almost everything."
"I am going to try and learn a great deal more, so I can tell everybody
everything they want to know," said Maggie.
"Maggie, do you think cook has been 'brought up in the way she should
go'?"
"No, I don't," said Maggie. "No 'way she should go' about it."
"Then do you think we ought to want her to be punished?"
"I don't want her to be punished," answered Maggie; "at least, not
much. But you see she _ought_ to be. Anyhow, we must tell mamma, and
she'll know what is best."
"But how _can_ we say that word?" said Bessie.
"I'll tell you," said Maggie, after a moment's thought. "You say half
of it, Bessie, and I'll say the rest. I'll say the first half."
"Well," said Bessie, with a long sigh. "I suppose we'll have to. Let's
go and do it quick then. I don't like to think about it."
Maggie laid Flossy down upon the soft mat at the foot of the stairs,
and hand in hand, she and Bessie went up to their mother's room. Now it
so happened that Mrs. Bradford had been passing through the upper hall
as the little girls sat talking below. She stopped for a moment to see
what they were doing, and heard Maggie tell Bessie about the lawyer.
They did not see or hear her, and she would not wait to listen, though
she was sure, from the sound of their voices that they were in trouble,
but passed on to her room, where her sister Annie and Mrs. Rush were
sitting. She told them what Maggie had said, at which they were very
much amused.
"Something has happened to distress them," said Mrs. Bradford, "and I
suppose I shall soon hear of it. If they come up with any droll story,
do not laugh, as it seems to be a serious matter to them."
Mrs. Rush and Annie Stanton promised to keep sober faces if possible;
but they did not know how much their gravity was to be tried. A moment
later, the children came in, and with grave, earnest looks walked
directly to their mother.
"Mamma," said Maggie, "we have something dreadful to tell you."
"Such a shocking thing!" said Bessie; "but we _have_ to tell you."
"That is right, my darlings," said mamma. "If you have done anything
wrong, tell me at once, and I will forgive you."
"It was not us, mamma. It was the new cook. Tell her quick, Maggie."
"Mamma," said Maggie, almost in a whisper, "she called us little dev'--"
"'ul," said Bessie.
"'s--s--s--s!" said Maggie.
Down went Aunt Annie's face into the sofa-pillows, while Mrs. Rush
turned quickly toward the window to hide hers. Mrs. Bradford coughed,
and put her hand over her mouth, but it was all useless; and Annie's
merry laugh was ringing in the children's astonished ears.
Maggie colored all over, and the tears came in her eyes, while Bessie,
with cheeks almost as red, turned angrily to her aunt.
"You oughtn't, you oughtn't!" she said; "It is not a thing to laugh at.
It was a shocking, shocking word."
"My darling," began mamma, then she, too, broke down and laughed with
the other ladies.
This was quite too much; Bessie hid her face on Maggie's shoulder, and
both burst into tears. Mamma was grave in a moment. She lifted Bessie
on her lap, and drew Maggie close to her side.
"My poor little ones," she said, "that was too bad, but we did not mean
to hurt your feelings;" and she soothed and petted them till they could
look up again and dry their tears.
"Now tell me all about it," she said; and Bessie told her story with
many a grieved sob, ending with "And then she called us that name,
mamma," for she would not trust herself to repeat the words which had
caused her and Maggie so much distress.
Mrs. Bradford was much displeased with the cook, and reproved her; but
the woman was saucy, and as she made much trouble in the kitchen, she
sent her away. The children were greatly surprised that no policeman
came for her, and that she left the house quite quietly, as if nothing
extraordinary had happened.
About this time an end came to the washing of peach-stones, for, as
the weather became cool, mamma forbade Maggie and Bessie to play with
water. So the stones had at last a chance to dry; then Patrick cracked
them, and the children took out the kernels. Boiling water was then
poured over them, and when it had cooled enough for small fingers, the
kernels were fished out; and the skin which the hot water had loosened
was slipped off by the little girls. After that mamma allowed them to
drop the blanched pits into the jars of preserves; and papa declared
that no peaches had ever tasted so good as those sweet-meats which
his Maggie and Bessie had helped to make. They had collected thirteen
hundred peach-stones, and earned sixty-five cents, which went into the
"library-box" in mamma's drawer. Maggie had hemmed four towels, for
which she had been paid twenty cents. This, with papa's twenty-seven
bright pennies, made one dollar and twelve cents.
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