THE LAST FEATHER.
Things happen to us sometimes that are even better than we have
dreamed. To be with Miss Pike in the pink chamber again had seemed
happiness to Flaxie; but to be with Miss Pike in Washington, going
everywhere and seeing everything, this was bliss indeed!
Dr. Gray was elected to Congress; Preston was sent to boarding-school;
Julia stayed with Grandma Gray at Mrs. Prim's; and Mrs. Gray went with
her husband and the three youngest children to board in Washington for
the winter.
Flaxie had never before seen so beautiful a city, though she had
travelled much more than ordinary girls of her age. For days she
never tired of looking down from the window of her fourth-story room,
upon the clean, white avenue, and watching the horses, carriages, and
people passing to and fro. High, high above the heads of the people
was a network of telegraph wires glistening in the sun, and Flaxie
thought if the wires would only go higher yet, and bind the stars and
the earth together, how grand it would be. She called this chamber
her "sky-room," and shared it with her "favorite friend," Miss Pike.
At the same hotel were Mrs. Garland and Kittyleen, and Kittyleen's
cousin Cora, a girl of Flaxie's own age. Truly, as little Ethel had
said, Kittyleen did "go everywhere"; but who would have thought of her
following the Grays to Washington? But then, this was Mrs. Garland's
native city, and she had come here to spend part of the winter, and
take lessons in painting.
Kittyleen was just as pretty, and dear, and sweet, as ever,--and just
as troublesome. Her room was next Miss Pike's, and of course Miss Pike
or Flaxie could not stir without her following them, for Kittyleen
adored Flaxie; and besides, her mamma was always busy painting.
She followed them to the Capitol, when they went to look at the statues
and pictures; she followed them to the stores, when they went shopping.
Little Ethel never cared to go anywhere without her mother, and Phil
had some larger boys for playmates; but Kittyleen felt that _she_
belonged to _Flaxie_. Mrs. Garland laughed, and said she ought to be
tied to Flaxie's side by a blue ribbon, like a little Skye terrier.
And here I think I must tell you how Kittyleen went to the White House
to the President's reception, where she was as much out of place as a
humming-bird in a flock of crows. But it was not the child's fault. Her
mother was very thoughtless, or she would not have asked Miss Pike to
take her; and Miss Pike had no idea what she was doing, or she would
not have consented.
But first I shall be obliged to speak of Flaxie's vanity. You may
have observed long ago that she was fond of looking in the glass; and
I regret to say the habit still continued. In most respects she was
constantly improving; but Doctor Papa said he really feared the nice
new clothes she wore at Washington had a bad effect upon her mind. The
strange ladies at the hotel sometimes said in her hearing as she passed
by, "Who is that pretty little girl? Isn't she lovely?"
This was unfortunate; for now she never went anywhere, and saw people
looking at her, but she fancied they were thinking, "Isn't she lovely?"
And on the Saturday afternoon when she was going to the President's
reception she wished to look as pretty as possible, so that the people
at the White House, and perhaps the President himself, might admire her.
"Mamma," said she, "may I wear my crushed-strawberry dress, and my
long-button gloves, and my bonnet with the red bird?"
"Oh, no, my dear, they are quite unsuitable. I am very sorry now that
I promised to take you at all, for I'm afraid there will be a great
crowd."
"But I never saw the President, mamma, and I like a great crowd. And
I'll be _so_ careful of my best bonnet!" pleaded Flaxie in a whining
tone, very irritating to her mother, who was dressing in haste. It
sounded like the troublesome teasing Flaxie of two or three years ago.
"My little daughter," said Mrs. Gray, pausing as she pinned her
collar, "you cannot believe that I know better than you do how you
should dress? Very well, I will allow you to wear your best bonnet on
this condition: If that scarlet bird gets broken, you are not to have
another bird this winter, no, nor even a feather!"
Flaxie hesitated. Much as she wished to look "lovely," she did not like
to do anything her mamma disapproved. Still, how _could_ she hurt her
bonnet, just wearing it to a party?
"Make haste, child, here are Miss Pike and Kittyleen," said Mrs. Gray.
And the little girl finally laid aside her every-day hat she had been
holding in her hand, put on her best bonnet with a blushing, downcast
face, and walked slowly behind her mother. Little Ethel threw kisses
after them, though quite disturbed in her small mind because "Kittyleen
went everywhere," while she and Phil had to stay with Mrs. Fry.
Mrs. Gray and Miss Pike did not consider what a foolish thing they were
doing, till they walked up the gravel path to the White House, and saw
the long line of carriages.
"This is no place for children; it is a great crowd," said Mrs. Gray,
nervously.
Mounting the front steps, they saw seated on one side of the large
entrance hall a band of musicians, all in uniform, playing bugles,
fifes, cornets, and drums. There were no children to be seen, and
none of the vast number of people who had entered, or were entering
the hall, seemed to take the slightest notice of Flaxie's beautiful
clothes. They all stood in a line, three or four abreast, and if they
could be said to be looking at anything it was at the beautiful windows
straight before them,--not glass windows, the panes were lovely gems of
various shapes and sizes, and nearly all the colors of the rainbow; and
of course you could not look through them into the White House.
"Keep fast hold of my hand, Mary," said Mrs. Gray. "The people are
crowding in behind us."
"Keep fast hold of my hand, Kittyleen," said Miss Pike, "or I shall
lose you."
"Where are we going?" asked little Kittyleen, who might have been going
up in a balloon for all she knew to the contrary.
"We are trying to go through a door, but you can't see the door, there
are so many people ahead of us."
"Well, when we come to the door and get through it, then we shall see
the President, sha'n't we?" said Flaxie. "But oh, dear, I don't care so
much about him as I did! It takes so long, and the people push so."
By this time, the little party of four were wedged in very tight.
They could not move one step, except as they were pushed. Flaxie's
crushed-strawberry dress was crushed quite out of sight, and nothing
was to be seen of her but two bewildered blue eyes, a tuft of flaxen
hair, and--sad to relate--a broken-winged bird of Paradise!
And where was little Kittyleen? By looking down, down, among the
ladies' cloaks and skirts, Miss Pike could just espy the top of the
little girl's bonnet, and the end of her nose.
"It isn't very comfortable, _is_ it, Kittyleen?" said Miss Pike,
pitying, but not knowing how to help her. "No'm, it isn't _very_
com-fi-a-ble," replied the darling, catching her breath.
The crowd had been moving very, very slowly, but now it stopped
altogether.
"The people at the front, who got in first, are halting to shake hands
with the President," said a man in the crowd; "and we must wait for
them to move on."
They waited perhaps fifteen minutes; and all the while the people
behind could not stand still, but kept pushing.
"Don't they know we _can't_ move? Why do they push?" grumbled Flaxie,
indignantly. "Do tell them to keep still, mamma; tell the people behind
to keep still."
Mrs. Gray only laughed.
"Mamma, they don't obey the Golden Rule, or they wouldn't push so and
hurt." Flaxie was always talking about the Golden Rule.
"My daughter, we are here and must bear it. Try to be brave and not
cry."
"Oh, mamma, I don't mean to cry; but they squeeze so hard that they
squeeze the tears right out of my eyes. I just know I shall die!"
Flaxie's wail was piteous, indeed; but it was little Kittyleen--ever so
much shorter and younger and frailer; dear, patient Kittyleen--who was
in far more danger of being hurt. She must have been almost suffocated
by this time, for absolutely nothing, not even the crown of her bonnet,
was to be seen. In real alarm Miss Pike exclaimed, "How shall I get
this child up to give her some air?"
"What, a little child here? Can't you lift her up, ma'am, and set her
on my shoulder?" said a gentleman just ahead.
Mrs. Gray and Miss Pike plunged down for Kittyleen, and succeeded in
drawing her up from her dangerous hiding-place among the cloaks and
skirts, and setting her aloft upon the kind stranger's shoulders. She
gave several little shuddering gasps, and her eyes were full of tears;
but when Miss Pike asked, "Darling, how do you feel now?" she answered,
with a pathetic little smile,--
"I feel more com-fi-a-ble."
But Flaxie was still crying. It was not only for the discomfort. She
saw now what a silly girl she had been to wear her best clothes; and
the broken wing of the bird of Paradise dangling before her eyes added
the last feather to her weight of misery.
The crowd began to move again by half-inch steps. The open door was
reached at last. Now they were fairly inside the White House; yet
still there was one room to cross, in order to reach the President.
But Flaxie's feelings were greatly changed. She no longer expected the
President to admire, or even look at her. Why should he, so forlorn and
dilapidated as she was, and so very, very small?
But she had little time for these humble reflections. As they entered
the door of the White House a current of warm air met them, and Mrs.
Gray grew instantly faint. A strange lady in the crowd caught a fan
from another strange lady, and gave it to Miss Pike. Miss Pike fanned
Mrs. Gray a moment, and then she and some one else dragged her out from
the narrow line of people who were pushing toward the next room, and
extended her upon the floor before an open window.
Mrs. Gray was perfectly colorless, and her eyes were closed. "She has
lost her consciousness," said some one, just as Flaxie broke through
the crowd and rushed toward her.
"Oh, mamma, mamma, _are_ you dead? Speak to me, speak to me, mamma,"
wailed the child.
And Mrs. Gray opened her eyes, and smiled. She was obliged to smile in
order to reassure her little daughter, but she was of course too weak
yet to go back to the dreadful crowd. She needed and must have rest and
quiet and fresh air.
"Children, do you care much about seeing the President?" asked Miss
Pike. "He looks very much like other men; he doesn't wear a crown."
"Oh, _doesn't_ wear a crown?" echoed little Kittyleen. Perhaps she had
fancied he did, or, at any rate, that he was in some way a very grand
and radiant being.
"Well, _I_ don't want to see him,--not with my things all torn off and
looking like this," said Flaxie, in deep discouragement.
She was nearly as anxious to leave the White House as she had been to
enter it. But when and how could they ever get out?
"Ladies," said a gentleman who had left the crowd in disgust, and stood
by the wall with his arms folded,--"ladies, if you are ill and want to
go home, I can put you out of the window. Will you allow me?"
It sounded very funny, and Miss Pike laughed; but he was quite in
earnest. "Would you like to have me put you out, madam? Here, mount
this stool."
"Indeed, I would like it; but can you do it, sir?" asked Miss Pike.
"I'm pretty heavy."
The polite gentleman answered by lifting her up by the shoulders, so
that she found no trouble in climbing out of the low window, and
alighting upon the piazza.
"Oh, thank you, sir," said she. "Now I will stand here, and help down
the other lady and the children."
This was easily managed; and soon all the little party were safely
drawing long breaths, and laughing in the pure air outside; and Miss
Pike said, "Here we are at the back of the house, and if the servants
should spy us they would take us for a set of tramps. But, Mrs. Gray, I
don't care for that, I'm so very thankful to have got you and Kittyleen
out alive."
They hastened down the steps of the back piazza, and got around to the
front door, and into the gravel path, and thence to the street, as fast
as possible.
When Doctor Papa came home to early dinner, his wife related the
adventure.
"We made a great mistake in taking the children," said she, "but dear
little Kittyleen was wonderfully patient and reasonable."
Flaxie twisted uneasily in her chair, feeling that all praise of the
little one was a rebuke to herself.
"Yes, papa, Kittyleen was very good. I don't see how she _could_ be
so good. But you see I--why, I had a dreadful time. I was so afraid
about mamma. Why, I wasn't sure when I saw her there on the floor that
she was really alive! She lay there as much as ten minutes, I think,
without any _conscience_ at all!"
"Oh, not half a minute," laughed Mrs. Gray. And then she laughed again
as she held up a fan, a pretty painted one with ivory sticks. "I'm
afraid the owner of this fan will think I _never_ had any conscience!
It was given to Miss Pike to fan me when I fainted, and we couldn't
tell who gave it, and so we had to bring it home."
"You might have left it with one of the porters at the front door,"
said Doctor Papa.
"Oh, we never thought of that! What a pity!"
As they were going down to dinner, Flaxie saw her now ruined bird of
Paradise lying in the basket of rubbish, ready for Lena the chambermaid
to carry away. Her mother had put it there without saying a word.
Flaxie knew she had lost her pretty bird and could not have another
one, "no, not even a feather"; and though it seemed a hard punishment,
she felt that it was just.
A few days after this all the Grays and Miss Pike, with Kittyleen and
her cousin, Cora Garland, went to Mount Vernon to see the tomb and
the old home of General Washington. It was delightful; and the next
spring, when Congress had risen and all these gay times were only a
memory, Flaxie never tired of telling Grandma Gray how she had played
on the tiny piano that once belonged to Lady Washington, and how "just
exactly" it had sounded like her own doll's piano in the back parlor at
home.
Grandma Gray listened kindly to these reminiscences, and so indeed did
all Flaxie's playmates at Laurel Grove, though I wonder they did not
sometimes smile at the constant refrain, "Last winter, when I was at
Washington." One little story, the adventures of the runaway rings, you
will find in the next chapter, in Flaxie's own words, as she related it
to Grandma Gray.