_KATE._
It would take too long to follow Maggie and Bessie through all their
travels, or to visit all the places visited by them, going from one
to another by easy stages, as best suited mamma; and staying a day
or two, or a week or two, according to the amount of interest and
pleasure they found in each. Charleston and Richmond, Virginia Springs,
the famous Natural Bridge, and many another spot, were described in
Maggie’s letters to her friends at home; but the place of which she
most delighted to write, because there she found the most to describe,
was Washington. Here is one of her letters from that city:--
“MY BELOVED UNCLE HORACE,--I think Washington is the most
interesting city I ever met with. It has so much to see and
buildings which are quite surprising and such a credit to
themselves and the people who built them that I am proud of
the nation to which I belong. But the most interesting place I
find is the _Pattern_ Office where are to be seen thousands and
thousands of things one can never be tired of looking at. There
are jewels and beautiful birds and butterflies, and very nasty
bugs and spiders and oh! Uncle Horace an awful spider so large
with his legs out he is as big as a dinner plate, I am thankful
I do not live in that country, for he bites too and the people
die, and I don’t see the use of spiders but I suppose some, or
God would not have made them. And there are machines but we
children did not care much for those and Indian things very
interesting and all kinds of curiosities and beautiful toys.
But the most interesting of all General Washington’s furniture
and his clothes. But his furniture was very shabby and I think
his grateful country ought to make him a present of some better
and his coat--why, Uncle Horace it was all ragged and if it
was not the father of his country’s I would say it looked like
an old beggar man’s. But please do not think I am a traitor
because I say this, for I would not be such a thing I hope,
nor a Benedict Arnold either, I shan’t call him Mr. for he
is not good enough, and I think he was the meanest man that
ever lived not to take his own punishment but to let poor Mr.
Andre be killed for him. And Bessie and I do think the father
of his country might have let Mr. Andre off that once if he
would promise never to do so again and we are afraid he forgot
that time that Jesus wanted us to forgive one another as He
forgave us. Papa says he had to make an example of Mr. Andre
but I think he would have been a better example himself if he
had showed mercy. And in the Pattern Office are some stufed
animals some very pretty and some ugly as is in the nature of
animals to be, for we all know they did not make themselves any
more than people who are some ugly and some very handsome and
they can’t help it. And so I don’t see why they have animals
for patterns for no man nor woman either could make an animal
but only God, but they are interesting to see though it must be
disagreeable to stuff them.
“We saw the President and we are very much disappointed for he
looks just like another man, not a bit better, and we did not
expect it of him but thought he would be very grand and somehow
different. I don’t care a bit if I never see another President.
I think it is real mean. But he has a very grand house and he
lets people come in and see it which is very kind of him, for I
would not like people I did not know to come in my house, and
pass remarks about it; but Papa says Presidents and kings and
things of that kind have to do a great many things they do not
like very much, so I hope I will never be a President or his
wife either and if he asks me to marry him I will certainly
say no and Bessie will too.
“There are a great many lovely toys in the Pattern Office but
I will not say I wish they were mine because I cannot have
them so it is of no use and it might be to break the tenth
commandment. Papa says they belong to the government, but I
don’t see what the government which is nothing but a lot of
big men wants of playthings, and I think they would be much
more use if children had them to take pleasure in them. If they
were mine I would give the largest share to my Bessie, and then
divide them with all my children friends and send some to the
little cripples’ hospital.
“To-morrow Papa is going to take us to the Smithsonian
_Institude_ where they say are a great many curious and
wonderful things and lots of animals dead ones I mean from all
parts of the world. Which must be very instructif and if I do
not improve my advantages I ought to be ashamed of myself and
deserve to be a dunce. Mamma says it is time for us to go to
bed, which I wish it was not and I wish there was no such place
as bed but I do not tell dear Mamma so or she might think I
did not honor her and I hope I may never be such an unnatural
child. So good night dear Uncle Horace and Aunt May and May
Bessie the same from your devoted till death do us part friend
“MAGGIE.”
They did not stay long in Washington; for the weather was growing warm
and oppressive, and our party were anxious to hurry northward, where
it was cooler and pleasanter. We will not stop with them at Baltimore
or Philadelphia, where nothing particularly interesting occurred; or
even in their own city, where they stopped for a few days to rest and
have a sight of all the dear home-faces, as well as to leave all the
“curiosities and wonderful memories,” as Maggie called them, which they
had collected in their southern rambles: but start off with them once
more on their further journeyings.
They had parted from Mr. Powers and Belle: but Uncle Ruthven and Aunt
Bessie had joined the party, adding much to the enjoyment of all; and
they were now on their way to beautiful Trenton and Niagara Falls.
A young lady and two gentlemen were coming up the brass-covered
staircase of the steamboat which was carrying our friends up the river.
“Hallo!” said one of the latter as some small object fell at his feet.
“What is this? Who is pelting me with flowers? No: it’s not a flower
either. What is it, Mary?” and he stooped and picked it up, turning it
round and round very gingerly, as if afraid it would fall to pieces in
his fingers. “Looks like a small edition of that thing on your head.”
“Just what it is,” replied his sister. “It is a doll’s hat. Ah! there
is the little owner, I suppose,” and she looked up at Bessie who was
peeping over the banisters with watchful, earnest eyes, and holding
Margaret Colonel Horace in her arms.
“Are you the young lady who has been pelting me with dolls’ hats, and
trying to make me think they were flowers?” asked the young man as he
came to the top of the stairs.
“It is only one hat, and I didn’t try to make you think it was a
flower, and I didn’t pelt you with it, and I’m only a little girl,”
answered Bessie, demurely. “It fell off my dolly’s head; but I’m very
glad you came up just then, before any one stepped on it.”
The gentleman put the hat on the forefinger of one hand, and twirled it
slowly round with the other, while Bessie looked on, rather aggravated.
“Give it to her, George; aren’t you ashamed to tease her?” said the
young lady.
“What will you give me for it?” asked he.
“I’ll give you ‘thank you,’ sir,” replied the child.
“Nothing else?”
“No, sir, nothing else,” answered Bessie, with as much dignity as any
young lady could have worn.
He felt the silent reproof of the child’s manner; and, ashamed of
having teased her, he handed her the little hat, saying, almost without
intending it,--
“I beg your pardon.”
“I am very much obliged to you, sir,” she said, now smiling again. “I
was ’fraid it would be spoiled ’fore I could call some one to pick it
up.”
“Why didn’t you run down, and pick it up yourself?” asked the young
lady.
“I thought maybe mamma wouldn’t want me to,” said Bessie, putting on
her doll’s hat. “She told me on the Savannah steamer never to go up and
down the stairs alone; and I didn’t know if she would like me to here.”
“Here’s a match for Kate’s paragon of obedience and
straightforwardness,” said the young lady, laughing as she turned to
the other gentleman who had not yet spoken.
“What is your name, little lady?” he asked.
Bessie looked up at him. Where had she seen that face before? Those
sparkling black eyes, the roguish curve of the lips, seemed very
familiar to her; and yet she was sure the gentleman was a stranger, as
the others were.
But she had a fancy that these same strangers were making rather free
with her; and she put on her dignified air again as she answered
slowly,--
“Bessie Bradford, sir,” and turned away. But her steps were again
checked as she heard her last questioner exclaim,--
“Why, it is Kate’s pet! The paragon herself!”
“Kate’s pet!” The old school-name so often given to her by the older
girls at Miss Ashton’s, and now uttered by the owner of the black eyes
which seemed so familiar, made it at once clear to her who it was.
Perhaps it was just as well that she did not know what paragon meant:
she only thought it rather an ugly-sounding name, and at another time
she might have been displeased and thought it was intended to tease
her; but, as it flashed upon her who he was, vexation was lost in
pleased surprise.
“Oh!” she exclaimed, in the tone she sometimes used when she was both
gratified and astonished, and looking up at him with flushed and
sparkling face.
“Well?” said the gentleman, laughing; as did both of his companions.
“I just believe you are Katie’s brother,” cried the child.
“That is an accusation I cannot deny,” he said, much amused. “Yes; I am
Charlie Maynard. But how did you know that?”
“’Cause you look a great deal like her, sir,” answered Bessie; “and she
used to talk about you very often. She thinks you are very nice.”
“That shows her good taste,” he said.
“She is very, very nice herself,” said the little girl, no longer
feeling as if she were talking to a stranger; “and I am very fond of
her. But it is a great while since I have seen her. Will you please to
give her my love when you see her, sir?”
“On one condition,” he answered; “that you come with me now and let me
show you something. Something I think you will like to see,” he added,
seeing that she hesitated.
“I must ask mamma first,” she said. “She only gave me leave to wait
here until Uncle Ruthven and Maggie came up.”
She ran to where her mother sat, and eagerly asked if she might go with
Katie Maynard’s brother to “see something.” Mamma gave permission; and,
putting her hand confidingly in that of her new acquaintance, Bessie
suffered him to lead her to the other side of the boat.
Like what he had brought her to see! Bessie thought so indeed, when she
caught sight of the “something;” and Margaret Colonel Horace nearly
fell from her mamma’s arms as the latter sprang into those of Katie
Maynard herself.
Kate was as much delighted and surprised as the child, and kissed
Bessie over and over again; while the loving little soul nestled close
to her, and looked up with eyes which left no need for words.
Then Bessie had to be introduced to Katie’s father and mother, who
were with her; but her brother said there was no occasion for him to
go through with this ceremony, since he and Bessie had already made
acquaintance; and he took a good deal of credit to himself for having
guessed that the demure little damsel, who was so careful about obeying
her mamma, might be his sister’s favorite and pet, whose name he had so
often heard. The other lady and gentleman were friends of the Maynards,
and travelling with them; and the whole party were, like our friends,
bound for Niagara.
“And where is the honey-bee?” asked Kate, who had heard Colonel Rush
call Maggie by that name, and from that time used it for her. “We’ll go
and bring her too.”
But Maggie,--who had by this time come upstairs, having chosen to go
down with Uncle Ruthven to buy some papers and “see what she could see”
below, while Bessie preferred to wait above,--Maggie was by no means to
be persuaded to join a party consisting of so many strangers. So Kate,
who was really rejoiced to see her little schoolmates, and wanted to
talk to both, must needs accept Bessie’s invitation, and stay with them
for a while.
“For you know you’re not a bit troubled with bashfulness,” said Bessie,
innocently; “and poor Maggie is;” a speech which made Kate’s friends
smile, and Kate herself laugh outright.
But Bessie was mistaken; for Kate, in spite of her laugh, was for once
“a bit troubled with bashfulness” before Mrs. Bradford. For she had a
little feeling of consciousness in the presence of Bessie’s mother,
which rose from the recollection of the affair of the clock at school,
and the knowledge that Mrs. Bradford had heard of it. Mrs. Ashton had
told Kate that she had thought it only right to tell Mrs. Bradford
of Bessie’s trial, and her steadfast resistance to temptation; and
Kate, who had not seen Mrs. Bradford since the day of the giving of
the prizes, felt a little doubtful how she would be received. But the
lady’s kind and friendly greeting soon put the young girl at her ease,
and she felt there was no need for any feeling of embarrassment now
that her own conscience was at rest. She had a pleasant talk with the
little girls, hearing of their travels and adventures, and telling them
in return of all that had taken place at school after they left.
The acquaintance between the young folks brought about one between
their elders, which gave much pleasure all around; and, during the next
two or three weeks, the two parties saw a good deal of one another.
The children took a great fancy to the younger Mr. Maynard, Kate’s
brother, as he did to them; and even Maggie was quite friendly with
him from the time that he came and took his place near his sister,
as she sat a little apart with Bessie on her lap, and Maggie close
beside her, talking of all that had happened since they parted. He
was very much amused with Bessie’s quaint ways and sayings, and with
Maggie’s glowing descriptions of all they had seen and done during
their travels; but he did not let his amusement appear, and they talked
away without restraint before him. Now and then he would join in the
conversation, putting a question, or making a remark, as though he were
interested in what they were saying, but not so as to embarrass them at
all; and he was so kind and pleasant in his manner to them, that they
both speedily honored him with their “approval,” and a place in the
ranks of their friends.
Not so with Mr. Temple, Charlie Maynard’s companion. When, after a
time, he sauntered up and joined the group, he soon put a check upon
the merry chatter of the little girls. Not intentionally, for he had
more to say to them, and asked more questions than Mr. Maynard himself:
but it was done with a tone and manner which they did not like; in
a half-mocking way, which irritated Bessie, and brought on a fit of
shyness with Maggie. Indeed, the latter would not stand it long, but
moved away to her mamma.
“What is it, dear?” asked her mother, seeing that something had
disturbed her.
“That hateful man, mamma,” said Maggie, lowering her voice that she
might not be heard by the object of her displeasure.
“Do not call names, dear,” said her mother. “What has he done to you?”
“He talks disagreeable nonsense, mamma.”
“I thought you liked nonsense once in a while,” said Mr. Stanton.
“Oh! it’s not nice, amusing nonsense like yours, Uncle Ruthven. He
talks compliments, and compliments he don’t mean either. He is horrid,
and very silly, too.”
“Perhaps he thinks you like it,” said Mr. Stanton.
“He has no business to think so,” said Maggie, waxing more indignant.
“We were having a very nice time with Miss Kate, and he made himself
a great interruption. He teased us about our dolls; and then he asked
us a great many ridiculous questions, and talked a great many foolish
things about Bessie’s eyes and my hair. If it was grown ladies he
talked to that way they would say he was impertinent, and I don’t see
what children have to stand it for. It is horrid nonsense.”
Mamma thought it horrid nonsense too. She did not like to have such
things said to her little girls, and was glad that they were too wise
to be pleased with such foolish flattery, which might otherwise have
made them vain.
Meanwhile, Mr. Temple was continuing his “horrid nonsense” to Bessie,
in spite of more than one reproof from Kate and her brother; but the
little “princess” received it in the most disdainful silence, which
greatly amused not only the two last, but also the offender himself.
But at last it became more than Bessie could bear, and she too slipped
from Kate’s hold and went back to her mother. From this time, the
children avoided Mr. Temple as much as possible; and, if they could
help it, would not join the Maynards when he was with them.
“What is the reason you don’t like George Temple?” asked Kate of Bessie
one day.
“I don’t know,” said Bessie, coloring: for she did not know she had
made her dislike so plain; and she really found it difficult to put
in words the cause of her annoyance. “I don’t know, Miss Kate; but I
_don’t_ like him. I believe I don’t approve of young men,” she added
doubtfully, as if she were not quite sure of the latter fact.
“But you like Charlie, don’t you?” said Kate, smiling, “and he is a
young man, younger than Mr. Temple.”
“Yes,” answered Bessie, with an air of deep reflection, “but--then--I
b’lieve the reason is, that Mr. Temple is not so very gentleman as Mr.
Maynard. Your brother plays with us, and makes fun for us, but he is
just as polite as if we were big ladies; but I think Mr. Temple is one
of those people who seem to think children don’t have feelings. You
know there is such a kind of people, Miss Kate.”
“She knows the ring of the pure metal,” said Kate afterwards to her
mother, “and distinguishes the true gentleman in heart and feeling, as
well, or better than her elders. She did not mean her words for me,
I am sure; but I could not but remember that it is not so long since
I was myself one of that “kind of people who seem to think children
don’t have feelings”;” and Kate laughed at the recollection of Bessie’s
solemn air, when she had pronounced her opinion of Mr. Temple. “Poor
Maggie! how I used to tease her.”
“Yes, indeed, Kate,” said Mrs. Maynard, “grown people, I fear, too
often forget how easily a child’s feelings are wounded; how the word,
the look, or laugh, which to us is a matter of indifference, or some
passing moment’s amusement, may mortify and grieve some sensitive
little heart, and leave there a sore spot long after we have forgotten
it.”
“Yes,” said Kate, regretfully, “my conscience is not at ease on
that point. And you may thank darling Bessie, mother, for giving me
more than one innocent lesson in consideration and thoughtfulness
for others, both old and young. The honey-bee, too, with all her
heedlessness,--and she is naturally a careless little thing,--leaves
no sting behind her, for she never forgets the rule which she calls,
‘doing unto others.’”