"I CAN'T BUY TEA"
Although Sally had not slept until late the night of the ball, yet quite
early she awoke the next morning, and, gathering the shawl closely about
her, she began going over the fine sights and sounds, that had left a
charm in her mind like unto a Fairy dream.
The longing in the maid's young heart for better things than those she
had, fairly cried out within her, as she thought of the appearance and
the graces of those high-born dames.
"I should have a better home," she said, glancing around her miserable
room. "There must be ways in which I can raise myself. I am getting of
an age to raise myself could I but see how to do it, yet I would wish to
do nothing wrong."
"There can be no wrong in wishing to better your condition," said her
Fairy; "you are no slave."
"Then I will watch for a chance," said Maid Sally.
"Do," said her Fairy.
In those days, Mistress Brace grumbled and scolded because she dared not
buy tea. There was still a tax on it, and loyal colonists denied
themselves tea sooner than pay the unjust tax.
But Mistress Brace had no great love of country, nor did she care
anything about the matters that were stirring the people way down into
their hearts and souls.
And so, after a time, she had grown tired and vexed at having to go
without her tea. The only reason she had gone without it at all, was
because the hired men--these were farmers who were hired by a
planter--had said that it was known all over the place when any one
bought an ounce of "the taxed stuff," and that whoever got it was set
down as being a "Tory," which meant a person who favored England and
the king rather than one's own country.
But there came a day not long after the ball, when Mistress Brace made
up her mind that she would do without tea no longer. The hired men had
put up with herb--they called it "yarb"--tea, made from herbs and mints,
and had drunk it without complaint.
But the mistress thought they need know nothing about it if she bought a
package for her own use. Goodman Chatfield, who sold dry-goods and
haberdashery, or small wares, on one side of his store, and groceries on
the other, would sell no tea at all; he was a true patriot, and "the
taxed stuff" could not be found at his store.
But the "apothecary man" kept a little "for weak and sickly folk," and
now Mistress Brace handed Sally some money as she said:
"Here's two and thri-pence, and you are to go to Doctor Hancocke's store
and buy half a pound of tea."
"I can't buy tea," said Sally, drawing back her hand and not touching
the money.
"You do as I tell you!" cried Mistress Brace, with fierceness in her
tones. "If Doctor Hancocke says aught about it, tell him I am not well
and must have a good sup of tea to hearten me."
"But you are well," replied Maid Sally, "and it would not be right,
either that I should tell a lie or that I should buy tea with the king's
tax upon it."
Mistress Brace raised her hand as if to strike the young maiden who
stood straight and quiet before her. But she did not strike her, she
only exclaimed again:
"Take the money and do as you are bid!"
"I can't buy tea" said Maid Sally.
"Then begone out of my sight and out of my house, and see that you come
not back!" cried the angry mistress. "Highty, tighty! but a great time
of day it is when beggars turn about and say 'I can't,' to those who
have kept and fed them. Begone, I say, you malapert!"
Sally turned away without a word, but when nearly through the doorway,
she looked back and said:
"I am not a beggar. I am an American girl, and mean to act like one."
Now there is always something about the words of one who gets not in a
rage, but answers coolly one who is in one, that cools down the wrathful
person and sets him or her to thinking. And Mistress Brace was struck
with fear. What had she dared to say? And what meant Sally to do?
But her temper was too high to put down all at once, so she replied:
"Very sure that you are an American, are you?"
Then, as if it came into her mind that she had better not have said
that, and as she also already wished she had not called the maid a
beggar, bidding her go away and stay, she began, with a sour kind of
laugh:
"Of course, I know nought of you before you were a baby wench of four
years or so, and if you are so silly set against getting the tea--"
But Sally had darted to her tiny room. She would wait to hear no more.
And thankful she was that Goodman Kellar came the next moment with eggs
and butter for Mistress Cory Ann to chaffer or bargain about.
Mistress Brace had never been soft of speech, although she could put on
the manners of a well-spoken dame, but she had of late grown more and
more rough and coarse, ordering Sally about at times in so unmannerly a
way that the maid had more than once turned it over in her mind,
wondering if she had any right so to order her.
And then, in truth, Sally was noticing such things more after hearing
Mistress Maria Kent's nice and gentle speech than she had in the past.
And now she hastened to get away if possible before Mistress Brace and
Goodman Kellar should be done parleying. All her young spirit flamed up
when the mistress called her a beggar, and although something fine in
her nature kept her quiet at the words, they were not to be passed
over.
She dressed herself with care, putting on a brown and scarlet
linsey-woolsey gown but just made, and bought nearly all with her own
money. Then she slipped out at the front door. It was her day to recite
to Parson Kendall, and although she scarcely dared think it out, there
was a resolve forming under the warm tints of her ruddy hair.
But here was her Fairy with something to say.
"What are you going to do, Maid Sally?"
"I know not, good Fairy, but I mean not to sleep to-night at Mistress
Cory Ann's."
"Hast any other home?"
"No, good Fairy, but mayhap I will find one."
"Have you any fixed idea about it?"
"N-o; I have only in my mind that of which I cannot yet speak."
"Very well, then be brave and do not falter. You have long felt ill at
ease with the Tory woman; tell not too much, but speak the truth
boldly."
"I mean to," said Maid Sally.
After the French lesson was over, Sally lingered in the parson's
library.
"I gave thee the next reading, did I not?" asked Parson Kendall.
"Yes, I know about the lesson, sir," replied Sally, "but I know not
where I had better go. I have no home."
"No home?" repeated the parson, "how is that? Hath the woman Mistress
Brace cast thee out?"
Sally turned pale, so great was her fright and her desire to cry. But a
single word from her Fairy helped her:
"Courage!"
"I refused to buy tea at the apothecary man's," she said, "and Mistress
Brace called me a beggar, and bade me go and not return. I cannot be
called a beggar, nor can I go back, when I have been told to stay away."
Parson Kendall toyed with his watch-fob, looked at the braided mat on
which he stood, and seemed studying the pattern of the border. After
what seemed a long time to Sally, he said:
"Sit thee down for a moment, poor maid. I would speak with Goodwife
Kendall for a space. Be not timorous, all may yet be well with thee."
Sally sank into a chair as the parson disappeared.
"I've done it!" she said to her Fairy.
"Yes, and without many words," answered her Fairy. "That is always the
best way to do that to which one has made up the mind."
Then Sally fell a-thinking. But so quickly beat her heart that she could
scarcely sit still. And it beat all the faster when the door opened and
Goodwife Kendall, in a rustling black silk, with soft muslin collar and
cuffs, and a lace cap upon her head, stood before her.
"I hear you have not so good a home, little maid," she said, in a fine,
low voice, "as would beseem thee, and the minister has no mind to send
thee back to it. So here is a plan. My two servants are faithful at
their tasks, but there is much needlework that is needful to be done. My
two sisters are to tarry with me for the present, and much visiting must
be enjoyed.
"There are certain duties to be attended to in the minister's family,
and in his library, which it is not befitting that servants should be
trusted with. Would it suit thee to be my helper for a time?"
"Oh, indeed, and indeed," cried Sally, stopping to choke for an instant,
"I will so gladly and most faithfully do anything you may ask; and I
shall need nothing at present, I have clothes--"
"Tut, tut, child!" said Goodwife Kendall, with a smile. "No one should
work well to receive nothing in return, and I shall give thee two and
sixpence a week, both to teach thee how to use a little money wisely,
and also to pay for what I know thou wilt justly earn."
And seeing that Sally was at the point of bursting out crying, she
added, while turning toward the door:
"Come, now, Parson Kendall will send to Mistress Brace for such clothes
as you have bought for yourself, leaving all for which she has paid. It
will please me to clothe thee with what may be needful from time to
time. But there are dried berries to be picked over and put in soak
before being stewed for supper. Come and let me show thee how to prepare
them."