taste; they do mine, I know; but surely we can bear that rather than
give them the pain of thinking that we despise them."
"Yes, indeed," assented Mildred heartily; and from that moment ceased
to allow herself to hope that something would occur to give her a
plausible excuse for staying away from Rhoda Jane's merry-making.
She repeated Claudina's remarks to her mother and aunt and found that
they fully approved of the sentiments she had expressed.
"Time was when I should have been very unwilling to see you consort with
that class on terms of equality," said Mrs. Keith, "but circumstances
alter cases."
The invitation came for Friday afternoon and evening; Rhoda Jane hailing
Rupert as he passed and sending it through him.
Mildred was nearly in her usual health and accepted without a demur; but
puzzled to know what to wear, and at what hour to go, went to Claudina
for instruction on these important points.
"We are invited to work, you know," said Miss Chetwood, laughing, "so
will be expected early; we should not be later than one o'clock, I
think, and as it is not very nice work--carpet rags being apt to be
dusty--we should not wear anything that will not wash. I shall put on a
calico dress and carry a big work apron with me."
"Then I shall do the same."
"I wish you would; for there will be some girls there who haven't the
means to dress and would feel badly if you or I outshone them very
much."
"I can't go before three, or half-past, though; on account of having to
recite to Mr. Lord."
"Never mind; I daresay it's just as well; for you'll get quite enough of
both the work and the company."
Following out the instructions received, Mildred attired herself for the
occasion with the utmost simplicity; but could not lay aside her
delicate prettiness or a certain air of culture and refinement that made
her more the real lady in her calico, than almost any of her companions
of the afternoon would have been in the richest silk or velvet.
Just as she was ready to go, Ada came in from school, crying heartily.
"What's the matter?" asked Mildred, meeting her on the threshold and
turning back full of sympathy.
"I--I've lost my place in the spelling-class," sobbed the child, "and I
didn't miss a word either. You know I got up head the first day, and
I've kept there ever since--'way above all those big, big girls, some of
'em as big as you, Milly."
"But how did you get down if you didn't miss? was it for bad behavior?"
"No; but she upset the class and made us all draw lots for our places,
and the one I drew made my place next to the foot."
"Mother, do you hear that?" asked Mildred, hotly; for anything like
abuse or unjust treatment of her little brothers or sisters was sure to
rouse her ire.
"Yes," Mrs. Keith said, "but Ada, you like the fun of getting up in your
class, and you could never have that if you were always at the head."
This seemed a new idea to the child, and she smiled faintly through her
tears.
But the wound was so deep it must bleed awhile, and the briny drops fell
fast again.
She was an uncommonly good speller for a child of her age, and had taken
great pride in keeping her place, working very hard to be able to do so;
and this sudden, unexpected downfall, due to no failure on her part,
almost overwhelmed her with a sense of loss, humiliation and injustice.
Mildred waited; she couldn't bear to go and leave Ada in such distress.
"Don't cry," she said, stroking her hair caressingly while the mother
wiped away the fast flowing tears with her own soft white handkerchief,
and kissed the flushed cheek, "don't cry, you'll soon get up again."
"And I shall write a note to Miss Drybread, telling her that I cannot
approve of drawing lots to decide so trivial a matter;" said Mrs. Keith.
"It seems to me very wrong; because it is an appeal to God. 'The lot is
cast into the lap; but the whole disposing thereof is of the Lord!' It
might be well enough to turn the class round occasionally, or in some
other way to give the poor scholars a chance to rise; but this
proceeding I so highly disapprove of that I shall not allow you to take
part in it again."
"I wish you'd take me away out of her school, mother, oh do," pleaded
the little girl.
"You shall not be kept there long," Mrs. Keith said. "But Mildred,
child," she added gayly, "you must hurry away or I fear you'll not earn
your supper."
A dozen maidens, mostly under twenty years of age, were collected in
"the front room" at Mr. Lightcap's. A large clothes basket filled with
many colored rags, torn or cut into strips of various lengths, occupied
a conspicuous place upon the floor.
A number of girls were grouped about it and armed with needles and
thread, scissors and thimbles, were busily engaged picking out the
strips, sewing the ends together and winding the long strings thus
formed, into balls; others had filled their laps and seated themselves
here and there about the room.
They seemed a very merry company, laughing and chatting as they worked.
"Oh, how d'ye do?" said Rhoda Jane, catching sight of Mildred as she
drew near the door, which was standing open; "thought you wasn't comin'
at all. Walk right in. Let me take your sunbonnet. Here's a seat for you
'long side of Miss Chetwood. Guess you're better acquainted with her
than any body else, without it's Viny Apple.
"Ladies, this is Miss Keith."
"I don't need no hintroduction," laughed Miss Apple. "'Ope you're well,
Miss Milly."
The others looked up with a nod and a murmured word or two, as Rhoda
Jane named each in turn; then they seemed to take up the thread of their
discourse where it had been dropped, while Mildred tied on her apron,
took the chair assigned her, threaded a needle, and helping herself, by
invitation, from Claudina's lap, began her first ball, at the same time
explaining that her lessons had detained her.
"You must be goin' to be dreadful learned," commented Rhoda Jane,
filling Mildred's lap from the basket, "I wouldn't be you for something.
I hate books and always did."
"Are we all here now?" asked some one.
"All but Damaris Drybread. She's oldish for the rest of us, but she's
the schoolma'am, you know, and likes to be invited. And though she's
late comin'--yonder she is now--she works dreadful fast when she does
get at it."
Mildred overheard a whisper not complimentary to the coming woman,
"Pshaw! I wish she hadn't been asked. She spoils everything; for she's
as solemn as a funeral and 'pears to think it's a sin to laugh."
"Yes," assented another voice, "that's so! and she never forgets that
she's a schoolma'am; but takes it upon herself to tell you your duty
without waiting to be invited to."
But now Miss Drybread was upon the threshold.
"Good evening," she said, in solemn tone and with a stiff little bow,
addressing her salutation to the company in general; then giving her
sunbonnet to Rhoda Jane, she seated herself in her usual bolt upright
manner and fell to work.
Her presence acted as a damper upon the spirits of the younger portion
of the party. A dead silence succeeded the merry chatter and laughter of
a moment before.
Mildred had cared little for that while it went on, but it vexed her now
that this woman, for whom, principally on Ada's account, she began to
feel a decided dislike, should have it in her power thus to spoil the
enjoyment of others; and she determined that it should not be.
Raising her voice that all might hear, she told an amusing anecdote that
set everybody to laughing except the "schoolma'am," whose increasing
solemnity of aspect seemed to reprove their levity.
"Oh, that was first-rate! do tell us another," cried Rhoda Jane, holding
her sides. "I had no idea you could be so funny."
Mildred went on with anecdotes, jests, conundrums, Claudina and one or
two others contributing their quota also, till with the ruder ones the
mirth became somewhat boisterous.
As it died down again, Miss Drybread spoke.
"Life, permit me to observe to you all, is too serious and solemn to be
spent in laughing and joking. Allow me to say, Miss Keith, that I am
astonished that you, a church member, should indulge in such
frivolity."
"Do you think a Christian should always wear a long face, ma'am?" asked
Mildred, saucily, her tell-tale countenance showing all too plainly the
contempt and aversion she felt for her self-constituted censor.
"Yes; I think that folks that profess that they've got religion ought to
be grave and sober, and let the world see that they don't belong to it."
"As if there was any harm in innocent mirth!" exclaimed Mildred, "as if
there was anybody in the world with so good a right to be glad and happy
as one who knows that Jesus loves him! 'Rejoice in the Lord, ye
righteous and shout for joy all ye that are upright in heart,' The Bible
is full of commands to God's people to rejoice, to be glad, to sing for
joy; and the best Christians I know seem to me the happiest people on
earth."
"You're rather young to set up your judgment as to who's the best
Christian and who's got religion and who hasn't," returned the spinster
bridling.
"Well, none o' your long-faced, sour-looking Christians for me!"
exclaimed Rhoda Jane, "I'd never want to get religion till the last
minute, if I wasn't to be 'lowed to laugh and joke no more."
"I can not read the heart, nor can any other human creature," said
Mildred, replying to Miss Drybread's last remark; "but Jesus says, 'By
their fruits ye shall know them.' 'He that keepeth my commandments he it
is that loveth me;' and when you live with people and see them
constantly serving God with gladness, walking in his ways, rejoicing in
his love, making the Bible always their rule of faith and practice,
showing far more solicitude about heavenly than about earthly things,
both for themselves and their children, I think you may be very sure
they are real Christians."
"I think so too!" said Claudina emphatically.
"So do I," "and I," chimed in several other voices, "but do you know any
such folks?"
"I have been describing my father and mother," Mildred said. "And my
dear Aunt Wealthy too."
"That's a fact," spoke up Viny. "You 'ave to live with folks to find 'em
out, and I've lived there and I never seen better Christians; they don't
keep their religion for Sundays, but Mr. Keith 'e reads in the good book
hevery night and mornin' and prays just like a minister--honly not so
long--and they sing 'ymns. And I never 'eard a cross word pass between
Mr. and Mrs. Keith--or Mrs. Stan'ope heither, and they never threaten
the children they'll do something hawful like breakin' their bones or
skinnin' of 'em alive, has some folks does; but just speaks to 'em quiet
like, sayin' exactly what they mean: and they're always minded too."
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
Chapter Fourteenth.
"Jest and youthful jollity,
Quips and cranks and wanton wiles,
Nods and becks and wreathed smiles."
"THERE had better be less talk, if these rags are all to be sewed
to-day," remarked Miss Drybread, taking a fresh supply from the basket,
then straightening herself till she was, if possible, more erect than
before.
"I can talk and work too; my needle haint stopped because my tongue was
runnin'," retorted Viny; "and it strikes me you've been doin' your share
as well's the rest."
"My second ball's done," said Claudina, tossing it up.
"A good big one too, and wound real tight," said Rhoda Jane taking it,
giving it a squeeze, then rolling it into a corner where quite a pile
had collected.
"How quick you are, Claudina," said Mildred.
"Not so very; I've been at it quite a good while. Some folks can pretty
nearly make two to my one." And she glanced toward Miss Drybread who was
just beginning to wind her second.
"But 'tain't everybody that winds em as good and solid as you do,
Claudina," said another girl significantly; "windin' loose can make a
ball grow fast, I tell you!"
"'All is not gold that glitters,'" quoted Mildred.
"I'd begin to wind if I were you," said Claudina, "you have quite a pile
there and it might get into a tangle."
"Thank you. I'm new to the business," said Mildred laughing, "and shall
take the advice of an older hand."
"Supper's ready," announced Minerva, opening the kitchen door.
"Put down your rags and walk right out, ladies," said Rhoda Jane.
"It seems to me that I, for one, need some preparation," said Mildred,
dropping hers and looking at her hands.
"Oh yes, we'll wash out here," said Rhoda Jane, leading the way.
A tin bucket full of water, a dipper and washbasin, all bright from a
recent scouring, stood on a bench in the shed at the outer kitchen
door; a piece of brown soap lay there also, and a clean crash towel hung
on a nail in the wall close by.
The girls used these in turn, laughing and chatting merrily the while,
then gathered about the table, which was bountifully spread with good
plain country fare--chicken, ham, dried beef, pickles, tomatoes,
cucumbers and radishes, cheese, eggs, pie, cake and preserves, in
several varieties, hot cakes and cold bread, tea and coffee.
None of the family partook with their guests except Rhoda Jane; they
would eat afterwards; and Mrs. Lightcap busied herself now in waiting
upon the table; filling the tea and coffee cups in the shed where the
cooking stove stood during the months of the year when its heat was
objectionable in the house.
"I don't know as we've earned our supper, Mis' Lightcap," remarked one
of the girls, stirring her tea; "we hain't begun to git all them rags
sewed up yet."
"Well, then, I'll just set you to work again as soon as you're done
eatin'; that'll do just as well; folks don't always pay in advance, you
know."
"And if we don't get through 'fore the boys come we'll make them help,"
said Rhoda Jane.
"What boys?" queried Mildred; whereat several of the girls giggled.
"Why the fellows, of course," laughed Miss Lightcap; "the boys is what
we mostly call 'em; though some of 'em's pretty old, I should judge, for
that."
"Yes, there's Rocap Stubblefield, must be thirty at least," said one.
"And Nick Ransquattle's twenty-five if he's a day," remarked another.
"Well, the rest's young enough," said Mrs. Lightcap. "Pass that cake
there, Rhoda Jane. There's my Gotobed just turned twenty-one, and York
Mocker, and Wallace Ormsby, and Claudina's brother Will's all younger by
some months or a year or so."
The meal concluded, the work went on quite briskly again, Mildred
catching now and then a whispered word or two about the desirableness of
getting through with it in time to have some fun; but the raw material
for several more balls still remained in the basket when "the boys"
began to come.
Gotobed was naturally among the first. He was quite "slicked up," as
Rhoda Jane elegantly expressed it, though his toilet had been made under
difficulties.
The only legitimate way of reaching the second story and his Sunday
clothes, was by a stairway leading up from the front room, where the
girls were.
The windows of his bedroom, however, looked out upon the leanto which
formed the kitchen part of the building and whose roof was not many feet
higher than that of the shed.
Watching his opportunity for doing so unseen, he climbed upon the shed,
gained the roof of the leanto, and entered his room by the window.
There was nothing of the dandy about the honest fellow, yet somehow
dressing was a slow business with him to-night; he stood before a little
square of looking-glass hanging on the wall, tying and retying his
cravat till it was too dark to see, then giving up in sheer despair went
down over the roof as he had come, and sought his mother, who, with the
help of Emmaretta and Minerva, was washing dishes in the kitchen.
"My land!" she exclaimed, as he came in, "what a time you've been up
there. I never knowed you to take half as long to dress afore."
"My fingers are all thumbs," he said, a hot flush overspreading his
sunburnt face, "I can't tie this decent nohow at all."
"Well, just wait till I can wipe my hands, and I'll do it. There,
that'll do; the girls ain't agoin' to look partickler hard at that bit
o' black ribbing."
"Maybe not, but I'm obleeged to you all the same for fixin' it right. Is
it time to go in?"
"Of course, if you want to."
He passed out at the back door and through the yard into the street. He
was bashful and did not like to face such a bevy of girls alone; at the
thought of addressing one of their number in especial--Mildred Keith--he
felt himself grow hot and uncomfortable. He had been admiring her from a
distance all these weeks, but had never met her, and much as he desired
an acquaintance, his courage seemed hardly equal to seeking it now.
How rough and boorish, how awkward and ill-bred he would appear to one
so delicate and refined.
He waited about a little, till joined by a fellow mechanic, Nicholas
Ransquattle, when they went in together.
This was a wiser step than Gotobed knew; for his well-made, stalwart
figure showed to good advantage beside that of Nicholas, who was short
and thick-set, had scarcely any neck, moved like a wooden man, and
carried his head thrown back on his shoulders; he had a wooden face,
too; large featured and stolid in expression.
But he was not troubled with bashfulness or any fear that his society
would be other than most acceptable to any one upon whom he might see
fit to bestow it.
"Good evening, ladies; I'm happy to meet you all," he said, making a
sweeping bow to the company as he entered, hat in hand. "And I hope I
see you well."
"Good evening," responded several voices. "Good-evening, Mr. Lightcap."
"Find yourselves seats and we'll give you employment, threading our
needles for us."
Rhoda Jane was snuffing the candles. Hastily laying down her snuffers,
she introduced the young men to Mildred, and dexterously managed to seat
Ransquattle on the farther side of the room, leaving the field clear for
her brother; for an empty chair stood invitingly at Miss Keith's side.
Gotobed took it, and, almost wondering at his own audacity, addressed
his divinity with a remark upon the weather--that never-failing resource
when all other topics elude us.
She answered with gracious sweetness,
"Yes it has been a lovely day, Mr. Lightcap."
What should he say next.
"I--I guess you never sewed carpet rags afore?"
"Is it my awkwardness at the business that makes you think so?" she
returned, with a quizzical look and smile, as she lifted her fine eyes
to his face.
"No, no, no sirree! ma'am, I mean," he stammered growing red and hot;
"you do it beautiful!"
"Let me give you some work," she said, taking pity on his embarrassment;
"will you thread this needle for me?"
"And then mine, please," put in Claudina, who was again seated near her
friend; then to his further relief she launched out into a reminiscence
of a candy pulling they had both attended the year before.
Others of "the boys" came flocking in, the work was speedily finished,
there was some tossing back and forth of the balls, amid rather
uproarious laughter; but some of them unwound and became entangled; and
so that sport was given up; the girls washed their hands as before
supper; Blindman's Buff, Puss in the Corner and other games were played
with as much zest as if the players had been a parcel of children; then
refreshments followed, served up in the kitchen; huckleberries with
cream and sugar, watermelons, and muskmelons, doughnuts and cup cake.
At eleven o'clock the party broke up and the young men saw the girls
safely home, Gotobed being so fortunate as to secure the privilege of
waiting upon Mildred to her father's door.
She would, perhaps, have slightly preferred the attentions of Yorke
Mocker, or Wallace Ormsby; both of whom she had met before and who were
young men of much better education and much more polish and refinement
than poor Gotobed.
It was Mrs. Keith who admitted her daughter; every one else in the house
having retired.
"Had you a pleasant time?" she asked, with a motherly smile.
"I heard some of the others, as they went away, saying it had been
perfectly splendid," Mildred answered with an amused little laugh, "but
the fun was of rather too rough a sort for me."
"Games?"
"Yes, ma'am; and I took part until they began kissing; when I retired to
the ranks of the spectators."
"That was right," Mrs. Keith said emphatically.
"And what do you think, mother?" laughed Mildred. "Viny Apple was one of
the guests. The idea of being invited out to meet your ci-devant
housemaid and cook! isn't it too funny?"
"Well, dear, let us be thankful that Celestine Ann was not invited also;
leaving me to get tea to-night," Mrs. Keith said, joining in the laugh.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
Chapter Fifteenth.
"The knight, perusing this epistle,
Believ'd h' had brought her to his whistle.
And read it like a jocund lover,
With great applause t' himself twice over."
--BUTLER'S HUDIBRAS.
RHODA JANE had set the ball in motion and for several weeks similar
festivities were much in vogue among the young people of Pleasant
Plains. There were other rag carpet bees, some quilting, berrying and
nutting parties, boatings on the river, "buggy rides," and rides on
horseback.
Then as the days grew short and the evenings long, a singing school was
started. It met once a week at Damaris Drybread's schoolroom, was
largely attended by the youth of both sexes, quite as much for the sport
to be got out of it as for the improvement of their vocal powers.
Each carried thither a note book and a tallow candle, and at the end of
the term paid his or her proportion of the salary of the teacher--one
Timothy Buzzard, from a neighboring town.
Not the fittest name in the world for a singing teacher, people said;
but then he couldn't help that, and soon proved himself competent for
what he had undertaken; for imparting instruction at least;--as to
keeping order among his pupils, some of whom were years older than
himself--that he found was quite another thing. Of course there was
often a good deal of misbehavior on the part of silly, giggling girls
and tittering lads which tried his patience, occasionally even beyond
endurance.
Mildred, Claudina and their friend Lucilla Grange were not of these; but
invariably conducted themselves in a ladylike manner which won the
admiration and gratitude of the sometimes sorely tried teacher, and gave
him a powerful motive to self-control, in the natural desire to win
their respect and esteem.
These three girls were the belles of the town; Timothy was an unmarried
man, and when he seemed to pay court in a manner, to one or another of
them, several of the young men were inclined to grow wrathy over it, and
to feel that their rights were invaded.
Will Chetwood, Yorke Mocker, and Wallace Ormsby had become frequent
visitors at Mr. Keith's; though, perhaps not more so in the case of the
latter two, than at the homes of Mildred's two intimate girl friends;
the six formed a coterie of their own and were generally seen together
at the merry-makings; pairing off now in one way now in another.
Gotobed Lightcap would now and then pluck up courage to step in upon
Mildred of an evening, and was invariably treated politely and kindly,
though not in a way to give undue encouragement.
He had an instinctive understanding of that, attributed it in a great
measure, to his own awkward, ungainly ways, and looked with envy upon
those whose better education and more polished manners made them more
acceptable companions.
Nicholas Ransquattle was not one of that number, yet esteemed himself
such, and annoyed our heroine not a little by his unwelcome attentions.
They were declined whenever it could be done without positive rudeness,
but vanity and self-conceit are often very blind.
Nicholas was quite a reader for a man of his station and limited
opportunities; his family were proud of his attainments; he even more
so; he was given to displaying them on all possible occasions; often
wasting a great deal of breath in the charitable effort to enlighten the
ignorance of his whilom associates.