_LETTERS._
Maggie had seized the opportunity when Bessie was not near, to ask Mr.
Powers for the Spanish moss.
“Mr. Powers,” she said, “is not that moss private moss?”
“Private moss? How private, Maggie?” said the gentleman.
“I mean is it not your own to do what you like with?”
“Certainly: if growing upon my trees and on my grounds can make it
mine, it is, dear?”
“Then could you let me have some of it, quite a good deal?” said
Maggie, to whom it had been a great effort to ask this; but the
thought of pleasing Bessie upheld her courage.
“Oh! to be sure; a whole wagon-load if you want it,” said Mr. Powers,
smiling, and without the least idea that Maggie would take his words
almost literally.
The next thing was to ask mamma’s consent to carry it home, and this
also was obtained without difficulty; Mrs. Bradford having no idea of
the extent of Maggie’s ideas, and supposing she only wanted a small
quantity as a curiosity.
Accordingly, Maggie took the other children into her confidence as soon
as they were all sent out again to play under Daphne’s care. Bessie was
delighted with the plan, and kissed and thanked her many times; and the
other two were quite ready to lend their aid.
So they all set to work to gather the moss, Daphne, too, giving a
helping hand, at her little lady’s request; though as she saw the great
pile they heaped together, she was more than doubtful as to the use
of such exertion. To gather it might be allowed,--it would never be
missed from the trees,--but to carry it home was another thing.
But she let them take their own way; for she could never bear to refuse
Belle any thing, least of all to-day, when Belle had come and put her
arms around her neck, and laid her soft fair cheek against her old
nurse’s dark one; telling her she was “sorry for every time she had
slapped her; but she would never do it again, for Jesus was going to
help her, and mamma would ask Him to, she was sure.”
So if Belle had asked to dance upon Daphne’s head, or do any other
extraordinary or unheard-of thing, I think the old woman would have
contrived in some way to grant her darling’s wish; and she meekly stood
pulling off the long, gray, pendant mosses, and heaping them in the
little, eager, outstretched arms which returned to her again and again.
Great was the amazement of the grown people to see the procession which
appeared, when at last the carriages came to the door to take them
back to the city, and the children were called to make ready.
First came a negro lad whom Maggie and Belle had pressed into the
service, showing his two rows of white teeth, and rolling up his eyes
with enjoyment of the fun; while he pushed before him a small hand-cart
filled with the precious material, which was to make such a lovely
“Bessie’s Bower” of the familiar little room far away at the North;
next Bessie and Belle trotting along, half hidden beneath the moss
which Maggie had heaped in their arms and around their necks; then
followed Maggie herself, and Lily, toiling away at a large wheelbarrow
piled with the spoil; old Daphne bringing up the rear, also carrying
her share and looking rather sheepish.
“Here’s ‘Birnam wood come to Dunsinane,’” said Mr. Bradford, laughing,
as he first perceived the approaching show. “What are the little ones
about? Some freak of Maggie’s, doubtless. What a busy, contriving
little head it is. What is all that for, Maggie?” as the children came
within hearing.
“To take home to New York to make a bower for Bessie in our room, papa.
Mamma gave us leave, and Mr. Powers said we might take all we wanted,”
answered Maggie, not in the least doubting that she was quite secure
with both these safe-guards.
“Dearest child!” said Mrs. Bradford when she could speak for laughing.
“I never supposed you had any idea of taking such a quantity.”
“I told you I wanted quite a good deal, mamma,” answered Maggie,
beginning to quake for the success of her plan, when she saw how
astonished and amused the grown people were.
Poor Maggie! So many of her fine plans had come to grief lately, and
still she must always be forming new ones.
“And how do you propose carrying all this home, Maggie?” asked Mr.
Bradford.
“Oh! Belle says there are boxes under all the seats of the carriage,
papa; and we can carry it to the hotel in these. And then I thought
maybe you could find some way to send it home in the steamer, when Mr.
Powers sends the sweet potatoes and things to grandmamma.”
“And if there’s too much to go into the carriage boxes, we have a great
many baskets, and we will lend Maggie some,” said Belle.
“And we are all going to carry some on our laps, we are anxious for
Bessie to have her bower,” said Lily.
“I’d like it very much, mamma,” pleaded Bessie, last of all.
“My dear children,” said Mrs. Bradford, “I am sorry to disappoint
you; but it would be impossible to carry all that moss home. Not the
half of it could go in the carriage, even if we all made ourselves
uncomfortable for the sake of carrying it; and you would soon grow
tired of such a bower.”
“But it is useful as well as ornamental, mamma,” said Maggie, with an
air as if this quite settled the matter in her favor; “for Belle says
the poor people here make beds of it, and if we ever do grow tired of
it we could give it to some poor person, and they might be very glad of
it.”
“And I never _will_ be tired of it, mamma, even when I’m grown up,
Maggie made it,” said Bessie.
“My darlings,” said mamma, “it is impossible. You may carry home a
basket full if you will, but I could not allow your room to be filled
with it, and it would be too much trouble to pack such a quantity, and
send it to New York. You must rest content with a little, dear Maggie.
There are a great many reasons why your plan will not do, though it was
kind in you to think of pleasing Bessie; but we will find some other
way of doing that.”
Maggie’s disappointment was very great, as was that of all the little
girls; but when mamma said a thing, it was to be; and Maggie knew she
would never deprive them of any pleasure that was best for them to
have. So she tried to bear it as cheerfully as she might, though there
were tears in her eyes, and she gave a sigh which seemed to come from
her very shoes, as she dropped the arm of the wheelbarrow.
“I’m afraid you would have to call your room the ‘Spider’s Bower,’ if
you decked it with that moss, Maggie,” said Mr. Powers; “for those
insects are very fond of it, and will gather where it is.”
“Ugh!” said Maggie; and the Spanish moss at once lost half its charm
for her, for she had a great dislike to spiders.
Seeing that she bore her disappointment so well, Mr. Bradford took an
opportunity of telling Maggie a secret, which went a great way towards
consoling her. But she had some time to wait before this secret bore
fruit; and as we are not going back with Maggie and Bessie to their
city home, perhaps you would like to know what it was.
In the autumn when their travels were ended, and they reached home,
where a great deal of papering and painting had been done during their
absence, they found their own little room decked forth with the most
enchanting wall-paper that ever was seen. On a pearl-colored ground
ran a vine of green leaves, and bright berries, and here and there,
perched upon the stems, or hovering over and pecking at the berries,
were the most brilliant colored birds. Never was seen a prettier paper,
or one more suited to a little girls’ room; and both Maggie and Bessie
were quite satisfied with such a “bower” as it made of their cosey
little nook; and the Spanish moss, well beaten and shaken, to destroy
all spiders who might have found a retreat therein, was consigned to
the boys’ play-room in the top story of the house. Though by that time
it had lost its first novelty and charm, both Maggie and Bessie still
had a clinging to it, as a memento of their pleasant visit to Belle’s
beautiful Southern home.
Maggie was still farther consoled that evening when they reached the
city, by finding two letters awaiting her, and one for Bessie. Maggie’s
were from Uncle Ruthven and Fred, and Bessie’s was from Harry.