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A LITTLE MAID OF OLD PHILADELPHIA
by
ALICE TURNER CURTIS
Author of
A LITTLE MAID OF PROVINCE TOWN
A LITTLE MAID OF MASSACHUSETTS COLONY
A LITTLE MAID OF NARRAGANSETT BAY
A LITTLE MAID OF BUNKER HILL
A LITTLE MAID OF TICONDEROGA
A LITTLE MAID OF OLD CONNECTICUT
A LITTLE MAID OF OLD MAINE
Illustrated by Edna Cooke
[Illustration: SHE LOOKED UP TO FIND LAFAYETTE SMILING AT HER]
The Penn Publishing
Company Philadelphia
1921
Copyright
1919 by
The Penn
Publishing
Company
A Little Maid of Old Philadelphia
Introduction
Ruth Pernell and Winifred Merrill lived in Philadelphia. The city had
been for some time in the hands of General Howe and the British army.
Ruth's father was with Washington at Valley Forge, and the little girls
were ardent supporters of the American cause, and admirers of the
gallant young Frenchman, the Marquis DE Lafayette.
Children in 1778 were much like those of to-day, and Ruth and her
friends, eager as they were for the war to end successfully, were fond
of dolls and pets, and games and little plays. Yet they kept their ears
open, and when Ruth overheard what two British soldiers said she knew
how to make good use of her knowledge.
In each of the other "Little Maid" books is the story of an American
girl during the Revolution. The other stories are: "A Little Maid of
Province Town," "A Little Maid of Massachusetts Colony." "A Little Maid
of Bunker Hill," "A Little Maid of Narragansett Bay," "A Little Maid of
Ticonderoga," "A Little Maid of Old Connecticut."
Contents
I. HERO IS LOST 9
II. GILBERT AND LAFAYETTE 19
III. RUTH VISITS GENERAL HOWE 28
IV. AUNT DEBORAH IS SURPRISED 37
V. RUTH DECIDES 43
VI. A DIFFICULT DAY 53
VII. GILBERT'S PLAY 62
VIII. BETTY RUNS AWAY 72
IX. BETTY'S ADVENTURE 84
X. THE LOST PROGRAMME 92
XI. A LONG ROAD 102
XII. A LONG RIDE 113
XIII. HOME AGAIN 123
XIV. THE CANDY DISAPPEARS 133
XV. A FAIRY STORY 142
XVI. BETTY AND ANNETTE 151
XVII. QUEEN BETTY 161
XVIII. A GREAT RESOLVE 171
XIX. THE VISIT 182
XX. LAFAYETTE'S VISIT 193
XXI. AT HOME 205
Illustrations
PAGE
SHE LOOKED UP TO FIND LAFAYETTE SMILING
AT HER _FRONTISPIECE_
"'TIS A LADY COMING TO CALL" 33
IT WAS A FAVORITE PLAY-HOUSE 95
"THE FIRST OF MAY IS GARLAND DAY" 162
THE BIG HORSE TROTTED DOWN THE STREET 190
A Little Maid of Old Philadelphia
CHAPTER I
HERO IS LOST
"Where do you suppose Hero can be, Aunt Deborah? He isn't anywhere about
the house, or in the shed or the garden," and Ruth Pernell's voice
sounded as if she could hardly keep back the tears as she stood in the
doorway of the pleasant kitchen where Aunt Deborah was at work.
"Do you suppose the British have taken him?" she asked a little
fearfully; for it was the spring of 1778, when the British troops were
in Philadelphia, and Ruth was quite sure that every English soldier who
saw Hero must want him for his own. The dog was her dearest possession.
On her tenth birthday, nearly a year before, her father had given her
Hero for a birthday present; and now that her father was with
Washington's army his gift seemed even more precious to his little
daughter.
Aunt Deborah looked at Ruth for a moment before she answered, and Ruth
became conscious that her brown hair was rough and untidy from running
about the garden in the March wind, that her hands were not clean, and
that there was an ugly rent in her blue checked apron where it had
caught on a nail in the shed.
"Was it not yesterday that thee declared Hero was stolen, only to find
that he had followed Winifred Merrill home? And on Sunday, thee was sure
he had been killed, because he did not appear the first time thee
called," responded Aunt Deborah reprovingly. Aunt Deborah was not very
large, and her smooth round face under the neat cap, such as Quaker
women wear, was usually smiling and friendly; but it always seemed to
Ruth that no least bit of dirt or untidiness ever escaped those gray
eyes.
"Do you suppose he is at Winifred's? I wish she wouldn't let him follow
her," and Ruth's tone was troubled. Of course Winifred was her dearest
friend, but Ruth was not willing that Hero should divide his loyalty.
"Very likely," responded Aunt Deborah, "but thee must smooth thy hair,
wash thy hands and change thy apron before thee goes to inquire; and put
on thy hat. It is not seemly for a girl to run about the street
bareheaded."
"Oh, Aunt Deborah! Only to go next door!" pleaded Ruth, but Aunt Deborah
only nodded; so Ruth went to her own room and in a few minutes was back
tying the broad brown ribbons of her hat under her chin as she ran
through the kitchen.
"I do hope Mother will come home soon," the little girl thought as she
went down the front steps to the street; "Aunt Deborah is so fussy."
Mrs. Pernell had been away for a week caring for her sister who lived in
Germantown, near Philadelphia, and who was ill; and Aunt Deborah Mary
Farleigh had come in from her home at Barren Hill, twelve miles distant,
to stay with Ruth during Mrs. Pernell's absence.
As Ruth ran up the steps of her friend's house the front door opened,
and Winifred appeared.
"Oh, Ruthie! Where are you going?" she asked smilingly.
Winifred was just a month older than Ruth, and they were very nearly the
same size. They both had blue eyes; but Ruth's hair was of a darker
brown than Winifred's. They had both attended the same school until Lord
Cornwallis with his troops entered Philadelphia; since that time each
little girl had been taught at home.
"Is Hero here?" Ruth asked, hardly noticing her friend's question.
Winifred shook her head.
"Are you _sure_, Winifred? Perhaps he ran in your garden and you didn't
see him," said Ruth.
"Well, we'll see. We'll call him," Winifred replied, holding the door
open for Ruth to come in.
The Merrill and Pernell houses were separated by a high brick wall, and
each house stood near the street with broad gardens on each side as well
as at the rear.
The two friends went through the house, and out on a narrow porch and
Ruth called, "Hero! Hero!" but there was no welcoming bark, no sight of
the brown shepherd dog. They went about the yard calling, and Winifred's
older brother Gilbert, who was preparing a garden bed near the further
wall, assured them that the dog had not been there that morning.
"Then he is lost! What shall I do!" said Ruth despairingly. "I do
believe the English have taken him. Only yesterday, on Second Street,
when Aunt Deborah and I were coming home, an officer patted him and
called him a 'fine dog,'" she continued quickly.
Gilbert and Winifred both looked very serious at this statement. Gilbert
was fourteen years old. He was tall for his age, and thought himself
quite old enough to be a soldier; but as his father and elder brother
were both in Washington's army he realized that he must stay at home and
take care of his mother and Winifred.
"I have a mind to go straight to High Street and tell General Howe,"
said Ruth, "for I heard my mother say that the English general would not
permit his soldiers to take what did not belong to them."
Gilbert shook his head soberly.
"That may be true; but you are not sure that your dog has been stolen,"
he said. "You had best wait a while. Hero may have wandered off and may
come home safely. I'd not ask any favors of America's enemies," he
concluded, picking up his spade and turning back to his work.
"It wouldn't be a favor to ask for what belonged to me," Ruth answered
sharply. But Gilbert's words made her more hopeful; Winifred was sure
that Gilbert was right, and that Hero would come safely home.
"Come up to my room, Ruthie; Mother has given me her scrap-bag. I can
have all the pieces of silk and chintz to make things for my dolls, and
you can pick out something to make your Cecilia a bonnet, and perhaps a
cape."
"Oh! Truly, Winifred?" responded Ruth, almost forgetting Hero in this
tempting offer. The two little girls ran up the broad stairway to
Winifred's room, which was at the back of the house overlooking the
garden. The two windows had broad window-seats, and on one of these, in
a small chair, made of stiff pasteboard and covered with a flowered
chintz, sat "Josephine," Winifred's most treasured doll. Josephine wore
a very full skirt of crimson silk, a cape of the same material, and on
her head rested a bonnet of white silk, on the front of which was a tall
white feather. There were two smaller dolls, and each occupied a chair
exactly like the one in which Josephine was seated, but neither of them
was so beautifully dressed.
"I made that bonnet myself," Winifred declared, as Ruth knelled down
beside the dolls and exclaimed admiringly over Josephine's fine apparel.
"And that feather is one that came floating into our garden. Gilbert
says it's an eagle's feather," she continued.
"It is lovely!" Ruth said, "and this window is the nicest place to play
dolls in all Philadelphia. And these dolls' chairs are splendid. I wish
I had one for Cecilia."
"Well, why don't you make one? I helped Grandma make these. All you have
to do is cut the pieces out of cardboard, cover them with cloth, and sew
them together. I'll help you," said Winifred, as she opened a closet
door and drew out a brown linen bag.
"This is the scrap-bag. Look, Ruthie;" and she drew out a long strip of
plaided silk.
"That would make a lovely sash for Cecilia," said Ruth, "but of course
it would be nice for Josephine," she added quickly, half-afraid that she
had seemed grasping of Winifred's possessions.
"Josephine doesn't like a sash," said Winifred. "You take it home and
tell Cecilia it's a present from Aunt Winifred."
Then there was a roll of small pieces of pale blue satin; just right to
make a bonnet for Ruth's doll.
For some time the little girls played happily with the bright pieces of
silk, selecting bits for one or the other of the dolls, so that when the
big clock in the hall struck twelve Ruth jumped up in surprise.
"Oh, Winnie! It's dinner-time! What will Aunt Deborah say to me?" she
exclaimed, putting on her hat, and gathering up the silk pieces.
"Thank you, Winnie! I must run. Aunt Deborah doesn't like me to be late,
ever," she said, hurrying toward the stairway.
"Come over to-morrow and I'll help you make a doll's chair; and I hope
you'll find Hero safe at home," Winifred called after her as Ruth ran
down the stairs.
At Winifred's words all Ruth's pleasure in the morning's play, in the
pretty bits of silk for her dolls, and the plan for making the chairs,
vanished. Hero was lost; she knew he was. With his silky coat, and his
faithful, soft brown eyes, his eager bark of welcome when his little
mistress came running into the garden for a game of hide-and-go-seek
with him.
Aunt Deborah had spread the table for dinner, which was one of Ruth's
regular duties; and when Ruth came slowly into the room she was just
bringing in a dish of baked potatoes hot from the oven.
"I didn't find Hero," said Ruth, throwing her little package of silks on
a chair and then her hat on top of it. "What shall I do, Aunt Deborah?
What shall I do? I am sure one of those English soldiers has taken him,"
and now Ruth began to cry.
"Ruth! Stop thy foolish crying. Thy dinner is waiting. Go to thy room
and make thyself tidy," commanded Aunt Deborah, "and take thy hat and
package," she added.
Ruth obeyed rather reluctantly. "All Aunt Deborah thinks about is
keeping 'tidy,'" she whispered rebelliously as she left the room. "I've
washed my hands three times already to-day. She doesn't care if Hero is
lost. Probably she's glad, because his paws are dirty."
But Ruth was mistaken; Aunt Deborah had spent an hour that morning in
going up and down the alley looking for the missing dog, and in a
careful search of the house and garden. She valued Hero's faithfulness;
and not even Ruth herself would have been more pleased than Aunt Deborah
to hear his bark, and see him jump forward from his usual playground in
the garden.
"Perhaps Hero has wandered off," Aunt Deborah said when Ruth took her
place at the table, "but he will come back, I doubt not, before
nightfall."
"If he doesn't I shall go and tell the British General that he must find
him," declared Ruth, somewhat to Aunt Deborah's amusement; who was quite
sure that the little girl would not dare to approach General Howe, who
had comfortably established himself in one of the fine houses on High
Street.