A SPRING PICNIC
Before the six weeks of school came to an end Anne could read, and could
write well enough to begin a letter to her father, although there seemed
no chance of sending it. She thought often of her visit to Newburyport,
and wondered if she would ever see Squire Coffin's little niece again. And
she remembered William Trull, and his little daughters of whom he had told
her. But no news had come to Province Town of how Boston was faring.
A few weeks after Captain Enos's trip to Boston another Province Town
fisherman had started out with a cargo of fish, hoping for equal good
fortune. But weeks passed and he did not return, and no tidings were heard
of him, and his family and neighbors now feared that the British had
captured his boat and taken him prisoner.
No word came to Anne from her father, and as the ice formed along the
shore and over the brooks, the cold winds came sweeping in from sea with
now and then a fall of snow that whitened the marshes and the woods, the
little settlement on the end of Cape Cod was entirely shut off from news
from Boston, and they knew not what the British were doing.
Captain Enos and the men of the port went fishing in the harbor, and the
women and children kept snug at home in the little houses.
Captain Enos had finished the cedar chair for Anne's doll, and Amos had
made one as near like it as possible for Amanda's "Lovely Anne." Both the
little girls could now knit nearly as smoothly as Mrs. Stoddard herself,
and almost every day Amanda came up to Mrs. Stoddard's, for she and Anne
were reading "Pilgrim's Progress" together. Now and then Mrs. Stoddard
would read several pages aloud of the adventures of Christian, while the
two little girls knit. Anne had a warm hood of gray and scarlet yarn which
she had knit herself, and mittens to match, so that she could go to church
on Sundays, and run down to Mrs. Starkweather's or to see Amanda without
being chilled by the cold.
It was a mild day late in February when Jimmie Starkweather brought home a
pink blossom from the woods.
"See, mother! The first Mayflower," he exclaimed. "I found it half under
the snow. Does it not smell sweet?"
"It does indeed, son," replied Mrs. Starkweather; "bring me your
grandmother's pink china cup from the cupboard, fill it with cool water,
and we will put the blossom on the table for thy father to see. Spring is
indeed close at hand."
On the same day that Jimmie found the arbutus bloom, Captain Enos came in
from fishing with news to tell. A Boston schooner outward bound had come
near to where he was fishing, and in response to his hail and call of
"What news?" had answered that a battle was now expected at any day
between the British and Americans.
"If it be so," said Captain Enos, "'twill not be long before the British
ships will be homeward bound, and they'll not stop to trouble us much on
their way."
"We must keep a lookout for them," said Captain Starkweather. "I wish we
could get more news. 'Tis like enough all will be settled before we know
aught of it."
All through March, with its high winds and heavy rains the people watched
the harbor for a sight of the big white-winged ships, knowing that if the
English ships were homeward bound it would mean that the Americans had
won, and that the colonies would be free from paying the heavy taxes which
England had fixed upon them, and that they could go about their work in
peace and quiet.
April brought warm, sunny days, and Anne no longer wore the knit hood and
mittens, and had once more set her playhouse under the pine trees in
order, and now Amanda with her doll often came to play with her.
"'Tis nearly a year ago since my father was captured by the British," said
Anne one day as she and Amanda, followed by the white kitten, went out
under the pine trees.
"Anne!" exclaimed Amanda, "I did not know what 'spy' and 'traitor' meant
when I called those words at you."
Anne looked at her playmate smilingly. "You would not say them now,
Amanda, would you?" she answered.
"Say them now!" repeated Amanda. "Why, Anne, you are my best friend, and
your father a soldier. 'twas but yesterday my father said that there was
but one thing that Province Town had to be proud of in this war, and that
was John Nelson, your father, because he is the only soldier from the
settlement."
Anne's cheeks flushed happily. "'twas hard not to have my father," she
said, "but he may come back any day now; Uncle Enos says so. And he is to
live with us, and help Uncle Enos with the fishing. And then, Amanda, I
shall be the happiest little girl in the settlement."
"To-morrow my mother is going to the marshes to gather young pine tips,
and arrowroot, and young spruce tips and the roots of thoroughwort to brew
beer with," said Amanda; "Amos and I are to go with her, and if your Aunt
Martha be willing you can go with us. She plans to take something to eat
and be away till past noon."
"I am sure I may go," replied Anne eagerly, "and we can bring home
Mayflowers. There are many all along near the pine trees."
"Yes," said Amanda, "and will it not be fine to eat our dinner
out-of-doors? Amos plans to start a fire and cook a fish for us, over it,
this time, not under sand as he did when we were on the island."
Mrs. Stoddard gave her consent for Anne to go next day with the Carys. "I
will bake you a molasses cake to carry," she said; "if it were a few weeks
later you could call it a May party. In England, and I know it is now a
custom in many of our towns, all the children gather and put flowers on
their heads, and have a May-pole wreathed with flowers, and dance around
it. And they choose a little girl for Queen of the May."
"Can we not do that, Aunt Martha, when May is really here?" asked Anne.
"Perhaps," replied Aunt Martha, "if the minister sees no objection, and if
we get good news before that time, why, a May-day party would be a pretty
thing. The boys could put up the May-pole near the spring, and there will
be all sorts of wild things in blossom by that time."
When they started off for the marshes Anne told Amanda what her Aunt
Martha had said, and Mrs. Cary and Amos were greatly interested. Amos said
that he knew where he could get a fine pole, and Mrs. Cary said that the
little girls could gather flowers and fasten them to the pole with vines
and strings before it was set up.
"And there must be a big wreath fastened on top of the pole," said Mrs.
Cary, "and by rights there should be long bright streamers coming down
from the top for each to hold and twist in and out as they dance around
it."
"Can we not take long strings and fasten flowers about them?" asked Anne.
"Why, yes, indeed!" replied Mrs. Cary. "'twill be better than any bright
ribbons. Now we must surely have a May-day party. Near the spring will be
the very place."
As they searched for thoroughwort, and picked the tender spruce and pine
tips, they all talked of the coming May-day, but Amos soon began to look
about for a good place to make his fire. He had brought the fish in a
covered basket, and said that he knew he could cook it as well as if he
had a kettle to boil it in. He made a fire at a little distance from the
woods, and then busied himself in putting up two crotched sticks, one on
each side of the fire; a third stick rested across these two, and from it
hung the fish, directly over the blaze.
Amos watched his fire very carefully, and kept a brisk blaze until the
fish began to grow brown and steam. Then he declared that it was nearly
cooked, and so let his fire die down until only a bed of smouldering coals
remained.
They all thought the fish tasted as good as if it had been cooked in a pan
or kettle, and Mrs. Cary had a fine cake of Indian meal, and with Anne's
molasses cake they all said that it was the best dinner any one could
have. The April sky was soft and blue, the sun warm, and Amos was sure
that in a few days he could go in swimming.
"And it's only the nineteenth of April," said Anne.
Afterward these children always remembered the nineteenth of April, and
would say, "That was the day we had our picnic at the marshes," and on
that day the minutemen were gathered at Lexington and Earl Percy was
urging his tired men to meet them, and the great battle which did so much
to settle the fate of the Americans was fought.
But the people at Province Town did not know of this until long afterward.
If Anne had known on the day when she was so happy, thinking of the
May-day to come, and watching Amos cook the fish over the fire, that her
dear father with other brave men was at Cambridge on guard waiting for the
British, who were determined to make a stand in their flight from the
minutemen, and that on that very day her good friends, the Freemans, were
hurrying away toward Watertown to escape the dangers of war which now
centered about Boston, she would not have cared so much about the May-day
plans.
"It would be well to ask all the grown people as well as the children to
the May party," said Mrs. Cary, as the little party made its way toward
home that afternoon. "I do not think there has ever been a May-day party
before in the town, and it will be good for all of us to try and be
cheerful."
Anne and Amanda looked at her wonderingly. The world seemed a very
cheerful and happy place to both the little girls, and they could not know
how anxious the older people were that the trouble with England might soon
come to an end.