A WONDERFUL DAY
Anne held Rose's hand very tightly as they walked along. It seemed to
the little girl that all the people of the town were out walking up and
down the streets. Now and then there would be a clatter of hoofs over
the cobblestone pavements and Anne would look up to see a man go by on
horseback. And Mrs. Freeman told her to notice a fine coach drawn by two
horses, that stood in front of the very shop they were about to enter.
"If I spend a guinea for clothes will it not be enough?" Anne
questioned, as Mrs. Freeman asked a smiling clerk to show them blue
dimity.
"Why, yes, Anne; I think we can manage very nicely with a guinea,"
responded Mrs. Freeman, who meant to supply Anne with many needful
things from her own stores. "Do you wish to save one?"
Anne shook her head. "No," she responded, "but I want to buy a grand
present for Aunt Martha and Uncle Enos, and something for Amanda Cary.
I should like to take Amos and the Starkweather children something, but
I fear there will not be enough money."
Mrs. Freeman smiled at Anne's thought for her playmates. "You can
perhaps make something for some of your little friends. Would not the
Starkweather children like a little work-bag or a hemstitched
handkerchief?" she asked.
The thought of the Starkweather boys with work-bags and hemstitched
handkerchiefs seemed very funny to Anne, and she gave a little laugh,
saying, "But they are all boys."
"Oh, well, then we will make some fine candy just before you go home,
and you and Rose can make some pretty boxes to put it in. So there's
your present for the Starkweather boys. And you'll have a whole guinea
to buy gifts for Mrs. Stoddard and the captain, and for Amanda. I
suppose Amanda is your dearest friend, isn't she?" and Mrs. Freeman
looked down into Anne's happy smiling face, quite sure that Mrs.
Stoddard must be very glad that she had taken the little girl into her
own home.
"Best friend, indeed!" exclaimed Rose, before Anne could answer. "Why,
mother! Had it not been for that Amanda, Anne never would have run
away."
"But Anne wants to take her a present," said Mrs. Freeman.
A little flush crept into Anne's brown cheeks. "I guess Amanda didn't
mean to," she said.
The clerk was waiting patiently, and Mrs. Freeman now begged his pardon
for so long delaying her purchases, and ordered enough dimity for Anne's
dress. It was a light blue with a tiny white sprig, and Anne thought it
the prettiest pattern that any one could imagine.
"I have plenty of nainsook in the house for your underwear, so we will
not purchase that," said Mrs. Freeman, "but we will buy some good white
cotton yarn so that I can make up some stockings for you. It
will make work for you at odd times." For in those days children were
taught that useful occupation brought as much pleasure as play, and
every girl had "pieced a quilt" before she was ten years of age, worked
a sampler, and usually knit all her own stockings and mittens.
"Can't Anne have some thread gloves like mine?" Rose asked, and Anne
drew a quick breath of delight. "White thread gloves," she thought to
herself, would be more than she could hope for, but Mrs. Freeman seemed
to think it a very reasonable request, and told Rose to go with Anne to
a shop on Queen Street and select a pair of gloves.
"I must go home now," she added, "for it is Saturday, and I have much to
do. After you have purchased the gloves you girls can walk up to the
Common if you wish; but be sure and be home in good season for dinner."
The girls both promised, and Mrs. Freeman left them, with a word of
caution to be careful in crossing Long-acre Street, where there were
always many teams, carriages and horsemen going back and forth.
"You are almost a young lady, aren't you, Rose?" Anne said admiringly,
as she looked up at her friend.
"I suppose so," Rose replied laughingly. "See, my skirts come to my
ankles, and Aunt Hetty said I must twist my braids around my head now.
And I think it does become me better," and Rose put up her white-gloved
hand to be quite sure that the braids were smoothly fastened.
The girls walked along the Mall, and a little way toward the Charles
River. Rose met several girls of her own age who greeted Anne
pleasantly. One of them asked Rose if she knew that a messenger had
reached Boston with a copy of the Declaration of Independence. "It is to
be read from the balcony of the State House on Tuesday," said Rose's
friend. "'Twill be a great day, and 'tis well you have reached Boston in
time for it."
When Anne and Rose reached the Freeman house little Millicent was at the
door waiting for them. She had a big doll in her arms and told Anne that
its name was "Hetty," because Aunt Hetty Freeman had made it and sent it
to her. Frederick had hung the wasp's nest in his own room, and declared
that there was not another boy in Boston who possessed one. Several of
his friends had already seen it, and Frederick was quite sure that he
was a very fortunate boy to have it for his own.
On Sunday morning Anne was awakened by the sound of the bells of Christ
Church, which was not far distant from the Freemans' house. She lay
listening to the musical notes, and wondering if those could really be
church-bells.
"They sound like far-off voices singing," she thought to herself. And
when Mrs. Freeman, at breakfast time, told her that there were eight
bells, and that they came all the way from Gloucester, England, in 1745,
and were the first ring of bells in North America, they seemed even more
wonderful to the little girl.
"William Shirley was Governor of Massachusetts at that time," said Mr.
Freeman, "and when the bells reached Boston it was found that there was
no money in the church treasury to raise them to the church belfry, and
just then Boston had the good news that the colonial forces under
General Pepperell had captured Louisburg. Well, every bell in Boston was
ringing with triumph, and it did not take long to start a subscription
and get money enough to put those fine bells where they could be heard.
They were made by good English bell-makers, and there are none better,"
concluded Mr. Freeman. Anne thought to herself that she would be sure to
remember about these wonderful bells so that she could tell Amanda.
On the morning of the 18th of July people began to gather in King Street
and the vicinity of the State House, so that long before one o'clock,
the time advertised when the Declaration of Independence was to be
read, there was a crowd. Mr. and Mrs. Freeman with Millicent, Frederick,
Rose and Anne had a very good place where they could see the little
balcony where Colonel Crafts was to stand.
"Look, father! There are some of the British officers!" said Frederick.
The crowd near where the Freemans were standing stood courteously back
to make way for several British officers in full military dress. They
secured a place where they could hear well, and Mr. Freeman and several
gentlemen exchanged smiles of satisfaction to see these officers
present. When the clock struck one, Colonel Crafts, surrounded by a
number of gentlemen, appeared on the balcony, and in a clear voice read
the declaration announcing to the world that the American colonies were
no longer subject to Britain.
What a chorus of shouts and huzzas filled the air! Frederick's cap went
so high that it lodged on the State House balcony, but no one seemed to
notice it, and Frederick could not recover his property until late that
afternoon. There sounded the measured boom of cannon, and thirteen
volleys of musketry. A military band played, and the people dispersed,
quietly, and as if they had taken part in a great ceremony, as indeed
they had.
"Now you girls will have to settle down; dresses do not make
themselves," said Mrs. Freeman; "nor do stockings grow on trees. Your
father's ship will be coming into harbor before you know it, Anne; and
you must have your clothing in order, and Rose has agreed to help you.
So to-morrow we must begin in earnest."
"I have a chance to send the black colt to Mr. Pierce to-morrow," said
Mr. Freeman, "and I have bought a good side-saddle for Mrs. Pierce, that
they may know we do not forget their great kindness."
"That is the very thing, father!" exclaimed Rose. "Now Aunt Anne Rose
can ride to the village and see her friends whenever she wishes. She
will not be so lonely."
"I thought of that," said Mr. Freeman.
"You girls must make up a little package for the colt to carry to your
new aunt," suggested Mrs. Freeman.
Anne had her golden guinea and several shillings besides in a pretty
knit purse that Rose had given her, and she was very happy to think
that, out of her very own money, she could buy something for Aunt Anne
Rose.
"I know what she'd like," said Anne. "I told her about the fine book
that my Aunt Martha keeps in the chest. 'Tis called 'Pilgrim's
Progress.' And Aunt Anne Rose said that if she had a book to read at
times 'twould be as good as company."
"You girls shall step into Mistress Mason's and select a suitable book,"
said Mrs. Freeman. "You can write her name in it and put 'From Anne and
Rose to Aunt Anne Rose'; no doubt 'twill please her. And this evening we
will make some sweets to send her. We wish her to be very sure that we
do not lack in gratitude."
Mistress Mason's shop in Cornhill seemed a very wonderful place to Anne,
with its shelves filled with bright pewter, tall brass candlesticks, and
large and small boxes. On a lower shelf at the back of the small room
was a row of books. On a narrow counter stood boots, shoes, and
slippers. Above this counter, fastened to a stout cord, were hung a
number of dolls dressed in the latest fashion. Each one of these dolls
had a small white card fastened to its sleeve.
When the girls entered they did not at first see any one in the shop,
but in a moment Anne noticed that a very tiny old lady was standing
behind the further counter.
"Why, she isn't any bigger than I am!" thought the little girl.
"Good-afternoon, Mistress Mason," said Rose; "this is my friend, little
Anne Nelson, from Province Town."
"Not so very little, as I view it. Fully as large as I am myself. I
should call her large; that is, large for a girl," responded the little
white-haired woman, who was rather sensitive in regard to her size. "I
see you wear good shoes," she continued, peering over the low counter
and pointing a tiny finger toward Anne's feet. "I know my own shoes when
I see 'em," and she laughed pleasantly. "My brother makes every shoe I
sell; makes 'em right back here in his own shop, as Miss Rose Freeman
well knows."
"Yes, indeed," answered Rose, "and Mistress Mason makes dolls, Anne--all
those fine ones near the door."
"All but the ones with china heads; I make only bodies for the heads.
The china heads come from France and cost me dear. But they are good
bodies, as you can see, my dears; with joints where joints should be,
and with feet and hands of soft kid. 'Tis some work, I do assure you,
young ladies, to stitch fingers and toes as fingers and toes should be
stitched," and Mistress Mason looked very serious indeed. "And as for
making dolls with kid-covered heads, and then painting their faces and
giving a good expression to eyes and mouths, I do feel that it's almost
beyond me. I do indeed!"
The little old lady trotted briskly across the shop and unfastening
several dolls from the line held them toward her visitors. "Now here is
Lady Melissa Melvina," and Anne saw that on each of the white cards was
written the name belonging to the doll on whose sleeve the card was
pinned. "Lady Melissa Melvina is all kid," went on Mistress Mason,
"head, body, feet and fingers; and every stitch she wears is of the
best. She's worth twenty shillings. But----!" and Mistress Mason made an
impressive pause and shook her head. "Could I get that amount? No. So,
though 'tis far too little, you may have her for ten shillings six," and
she smiled as if she were really bestowing a gift upon them.
"We did not come to buy a doll, Mistress Mason, although I'm sure Anne
would like greatly to have so fine a doll as this; but we want to
purchase a book," said Rose.
The little old woman was evidently disappointed. "A book, indeed," she
responded. "I know not what is coming to people. Everybody, even the
very children, are asking for books. We can hardly keep our shelf neatly
filled, and I have half a mind not to keep them. Many a person who
should buy a stout pair of shoes puts the money in books," and she shook
her head as if not understanding such folly.
"'Tis for a present," responded Rose, as if to excuse their purchase,
"to a lady who lives in the country and is much alone."
"I see; well, maybe such folk find company in reading," said the
shopkeeper. "Here is a book may please her," and she took up a thin
volume and opened it. "'Tis a book of verse, but 'tis well thought of. I
see but little sense in verse myself; but, for verse, this reads well:
"'Great conquerors greater glory gain
By foes in triumph led than slain,'"
she read, and went on to a second couplet:
"'Ay me! What perils do environ
The man that meddles with cold iron.'
"And I declare here is what I've always said of poetry. 'Tis as true as I
make good dolls:
"'Those that write in rhyme still make
The one verse for the other's sake.'"
"I think Aunt Anne Rose would like 'Pilgrim's Progress,'" Anne ventured,
a little timidly, to suggest.
"Maybe. I have a fine copy. Not too large, and easy to read. 'Twill cost
five shillings," and Mistress Mason put back the book of verse and took
from the shelf a small square book that she handed to Rose.
The girls looked it over carefully. "But it is not like Aunt Martha's
book," said Anne; "'tis not so large, nor has it such fine pictures.
These pictures are little and black."
"It tells the same story," Rose assured her, "and I know it would please
Aunt Anne Rose. It will cost us two and six, sixty-two cents, apiece."
They decided to purchase it, and Mistress Mason wrapped it up in a neat
package for them, and said that she hoped they would step in again. She
followed them to the door, and Rose and Anne both bowed very politely as
they wished her good-day.