GEMS FROM SHAKESPEARE
It was an exciting moment when Mary stood with the “Gems from
Shakespeare” in her hand, declaring that this was not a book at all,
but something else! What was it, then, which made her so excited?
Caliban eyed her from the desk benevolently. “Miaou!” he cried. But no
one noticed him.
“What do you think it is, Mary?” cried John. For he, too, saw in a
moment that it was not a mere book at which his sister was gazing with
wide eyes.
The back, with its green-and-gold leather and its label, “Gems from
Shakespeare,” matched the rest of the set, so far. And the sides were
flat and cover-like. But the front and top and ends, where the edges
of leaves would naturally show in any proper book, were enclosed in
leather, so as to make the whole thing into a sort of case.
“It’s a box!” said Mary solemnly.
John thrust his face up close to the mystery, and presently he gave a
start. In the end where you would naturally open the book to read, he
had spied something strange.
“Oh, Mary!” he cried; “Look! Here is a little keyhole! I believe we’ve
found the clue to your key that was in the lantern. Have you got the
key here? Quick, Mary!”
Mary was shaking the box very gently. “Something rattles!” she said.
“What do you suppose it is?”
“Oh, do be careful. Maybe it is something breakable. Hurry and find out
what it is!” begged John in the greatest excitement.
Mary always wore the puzzling key about her neck, on the green silk
cord which had come with it. She now pulled it out, and they carried
the “Gems from Shakespeare” over to the table, so that they might see
better under the lamp.
Just then there came a knock at the door, and both children jumped as
if they had been caught in doing something wrong. “Mary! John!” cried
the voice of their mother, “where are you both? What in the world are
you doing? I rang the bell for tea three times; and I never knew you
both to be so late before!”
“Oh, come in, Mother,” said Mary; “do come in, quickly!”
The door opened, and there stood Mrs. Corliss with the Doctor close
behind her.
“I thought I heard you shouting at one another in here,” said Dr.
Corliss. “What’s up? More surprises, eh? Something better than tea?”
“Caliban looks as if he thought so,” said Mrs. Corliss. “See how his
green eyes glitter!”
“Oh, yes, Father!” said Mary; “it’s the most exciting surprise of all,
we think; because Aunt Nan has taken pains to make it a part of her
portrait.”
“Part of the portrait! What do you mean, Mary?” exclaimed her father,
advancing into the room, and like the rest of them forgetting all about
tea in the excitement of the occasion.
Mary showed them the “Gems from Shakespeare” with the keyhole in the
end, and explained how the picture had guided them to it. They lighted
the lamp hastily, and Dr. Corliss had to see just how the “slow
unmoving finger” of Aunt Nan’s portrait pointed to the shelf in the
corner where the “Gems” lived.
“Why, yes!” exclaimed the Doctor, examining the picture still more
closely than the children had done. “And now that I have a clue, I see
something more, that you haven’t discovered. Look, children! Do you
see what this book is on which Aunt Nan’s left hand is resting? It is a
picture of this very same ‘Gems from Shakespeare,’ I can even make out
a ‘G--S’ on the binding. But I never should have discovered it without
your clue. I believe there is something in it, Mary!” And he looked as
excited as any of them.
“Well, do let’s find out what is in it!” urged Mrs. Corliss. “I can’t
wait another minute!”
“Neither can I!” cried John. “Hurry, Mary!”
Mary took the little key and tried it in the keyhole. Yes, it just
fitted. She turned it, and a lock clicked.
“Lift the cover!” cried her father. And Mary opened what would have
been the front cover of the book, if it had been a book which she was
holding.
Inside the hollow leathern shell which pretended to be a book was a
box; a green wooden box, with brass trimmings. Mary lifted the cover of
this with a rapidly beating heart. And what do you think she found?
First of all she found a sheet of paper, at the top of which was
written “GEMS FROM SHAKESPEARE.” Below it followed a list of quotations
from Shakespeare, of a character that made them all very much excited;
you will readily guess why. These are the quotations:--
“The little casket bring me hither.--More jewels yet!”
_T. of A._ I, ii.
“The jewel that we find we stoop and take it.” _M. for M._, II, i.
“Bid my woman search for a jewel.” _Cym._ II, iii.
“And what says she to my little jewel?” _T. G. of V._, IV, vii.
Under this sheet of quotations was spread a tiny silken blanket of
pink. With trembling fingers Mary lifted this covering.
“Gems from Shakespeare,” indeed! The sight made them all gasp. There,
lying on velvet cushions, in little pens, were drops and clusters and
strings of pearls; big and little, round and oval, creamy and lustrous
and beautiful. Piece by piece Mary lifted them out of their beds. There
was a long necklace which would go twice around her throat; earrings;
brooches; bar-pins and bracelets and rings. Some of the pearls were set
with diamonds, and some with emeralds and sapphires and rubies; some
were made up into rosebuds with pink coral like that of the necklace
which Mary had found in the bust of Shakespeare. It was a wonderful
collection.
“Well!” cried Dr. Corliss, the first one of the family to get his
breath,--“well, Mary! So you have Aunt Nan’s jewels, after all. She
did not sell them for the benefit of her hospital, as I believed. She
wanted them to go with her beloved library. There can be no doubt that
these belong to you, and that she wished you to have them, if you were
clever enough to find them. And a pretty little fortune they will
prove, if I am not mistaken.”
[Illustration: “OH, THEY ARE VERY BEAUTIFUL,” SAID MARY]
“Here is a note in the bottom of the box,” said Mary, drawing out a
sheet of folded paper. Nowadays she did not dread Aunt Nan’s notes as
she had done at first, for she began to think of the queer great-aunt
whom she had never seen as one of her best and kindest friends.
“_To Mary Corliss_” the note was addressed, and it read:--
These are my jewels, Mary, since you have found them--my mere jewel
stones. But by this time, as I hope, you will have learned the
greater beauty of my other jewels--the real “Gems from Shakespeare.”
You will know, if you have done as I wished, that books are the best
treasure of all. And that in poetry--especially in Shakespeare’s
poetry--are the most precious gems to be found in this world. These
so-called _precious_ bits of stone and pearl have never been of any
use to me. I have never worn them. Why I have not sold them long ago,
I do not know. Perhaps because I wanted to play this one last joke
with them, for somebody’s benefit. They have been waiting here in
this secret place for years. Now I have played my last joke, and you
shall do with the “Gems” whatever you please. I hope you will be a
wise girl.
N. C.
“What do you suppose Aunt Nan meant by that last remark?” asked Mrs.
Corliss wonderingly. “The pearls are far too splendid for our Mary ever
to wear. I should hate to see her flaunting them, Owen.”
“So should I!” said Dr. Corliss fervently. “They are grand enough for a
princess to wear at a court ball. What do you say, Mary?”
“Oh, they are very beautiful,” said Mary, “but I don’t want to wear
them, any more than Aunt Nan did. Father, do you think it would be
right to sell them? I’d like so much to have the money to help us
all--and perhaps there would be enough so that I could go to college,
too.”
“That’s my daughter!” cried her father, hugging her proudly in his
arms. “That is what I hoped you would say. I can see no possible reason
why you should keep the jewels. Evidently Aunt Nan did not care for
them herself, and you have no association with them except through
her. They can do you no good, except in one way. So my girl will be
able to go to college, after all, as well as my boy. I am so glad!”
“Thanks to Aunt Nan--and to Shakespeare,” said Mary, patting the volume
of “Hamlet” lovingly. “If Shakespeare hadn’t given the clue I might not
have found the gems for ever and ever so long.”
“You might never have found them, Mary!” cried John. “Ginger! how
awful! They might have stayed here all your life; or some old
bookseller might have got them when you began to fill up with new books
in place of these old ones.”
“Like Aladdin swapping off his old lamp for a new one,” smiled Dr.
Corliss.
“No,” said Mary, “that wouldn’t have happened. And I should have found
them, anyway, sooner or later. For I shall never part with one of Aunt
Nan’s books. And sooner or later I mean to dip into every one, and
read it through, if I can. I guess Aunt Nan knew that.” She glanced
gratefully at the portrait over the mantelpiece, which seemed to look
very happy in the lamplight, while the box of gems stood open on the
table.