and when the gravestones had toppled over, and had been carried off by
any one who wished them. Some had been found by the present custodian of
the ground in use as covers for drains, others as chimney tops, and some
in old cellars and basements. There were famous names on some of the
stones, and strange verses on others.
Julia copied an inscription or two, such as,
"A sister of Sarah Lucas lyeth here,
Whom I did love most dear;
And now her soul hath took its flight,
And bid her spightful foes good-night."
and this
"Death with his dart hath pierced my heart,
While I was in my prime;
When this you see grieve not for me
'Twas God's appointed time."
She had heard before of the Mather tomb, and looked with great interest
on the brown slab enclosed with an iron railing, under which rested the
noted Puritan preacher.
Yet while Julia took interest in the stones and inscriptions, Nora was
better pleased with the lovely view of the water to be seen from the
summit.
"It was there in the channel," said Miss South, "that the men-of-war lay
when Paul Revere started out on that wonderful ride, and not so far from
the spot where the receiving ship 'Wabash' now lies at the Navy Yard,
the British landed in Charlestown on their way to Bunker Hill."
"Oh, yes," said Julia, who had put aside her pencil and notebook, "I can
understand now what a fine view the people of Boston must have had of
the battle when they crowded to the graveyard and the roofs."
"Yes, there was almost a clear view then," said Miss South, "and it must
have been a very exciting day for the watchers on the Boston side of the
water."
"They were making for the steeple,--the old sexton and his people;
The pigeons circled round us as we climbed the creaking stair,
Just across the narrow river--oh so close it made us shiver!
Stood a fortress on the hilltop that but yesterday was bare.
"Not slow our eyes to find it--well we knew who stood behind it,
Though the earthwork hid them from us, and the stubborn walls were
dumb.
Here were sister, wife and mother, looking wild upon each other,
And their lips were white with terror, as they said 'The Hour is
Come!'"
"Bravo!" cried the others as Nora finished this quotation from Holmes'
well-known poem. "If there were time," added Miss South, "we might ask
Nora, or perhaps you Julia, to cap these stanzas with some other
historical poem.
"The North End would be well worth another visit," continued Miss South,
as they turned away. "I hope that some time you will both come to a
service in the old church, and if you choose the first Sunday of the
month, you will be able to see the fine communion service presented by
George the Second, and you will find the high backed pews and the
frescoes on the wall the same as they were a hundred and twenty-five
years ago."
"What lots of little children there are playing about," cried Nora; "I
should think that they would be run over a dozen times a day, for there
are certainly more in the middle of the street than on the sidewalks.
Why see there, why just look, it really is----"
"Manuel," broke in Julia, as Nora rushed forward and took the little
fellow by the hand--"why how are you, Manuel?"
"My mother sick," he replied, smiling at Nora whom evidently he
remembered very well.
"Oh, couldn't we just go to see him, I mean his mother," cried Nora.
"But if she is sick--" replied Miss South with hesitation.
"Let us wait here at the corner--this is the very corner," pleaded Nora,
"and you can see whether there would be any harm in our going there;
Julia wants to see the house, and perhaps Mrs. Rosa only has a cold."
As this seemed to be a sensible suggestion, Miss South with Manuel by
the hand went down the little street where the Rosas were living.
XVII
THE ROSAS AT HOME
In a few moments Miss South returned.
"I do not think," she said, "that there would be the least harm in your
going with me to the house. I know, Nora, that your mother would not
object, and Julia, you can use your own judgment. I am sure that there
is no contagious disease in the neighborhood, and----"
"Oh," interrupted Julia, "do let me go back with you. I have never been
in a tenement house and I am so anxious to see one. My aunt would not
have the least objection, and you know that Brenda has been there."
So in less time than it takes me to tell of it they were actually at the
door of the house where the Rosas lived. Fortunately their rooms were
now on the first floor, and as the door was open as well as the window,
there was good ventilation. Had this not been the case they must have
been half suffocated by the heat from the stove which was glowing hot.
Mrs. Rosa was seated in a high backed wooden rocking-chair, but she rose
to her feet as she saw Miss South and the two girls approaching. To do
this was evidently a great effort for her, and after she had said a word
or two of welcome in broken English, she sank back half exhausted.
She had strength, however, to speak to her elder daughter, who had not
turned when they entered, and at her bidding Angelina had looked up from
the depths of the mysterious mixture which she was stirring in an iron
kettle, and coming forward offered her hand to the three newcomers. Two
younger girls in rather untidy dresses, with half the buttons off their
shoes looked on a little timidly, and no one but Manuel seemed perfectly
at ease.
"It's rather hard, isn't it," said Miss South pleasantly, "to take care
of so many children, Mrs. Rosa?"
"Oh, yes, Miss South," she replied, "they gets hungry every day, and
always wants so much to eat." Even the lively Nora did not smile at
this, although she afterwards said that she wondered if their mother
expected the children to want only one meal a week.
"But you're not able to work now; you can't go out to your fruit stand,
can you?" continued Miss South.
"Oh, no indeed, no indeed," shaking her head. "I'm awful weak."
"Then how have you been paying your rent?"
"Well, the good minister, he help me; he pay it just now, and John he
have a license for papers, and he sell quite a good many every day after
school--and, oh well, we get along." Mrs. Rosa had a very pleasant
expression, and as she talked she looked almost handsome. Her black
stuff dress, worn without a collar, made her pale face seem more haggard
than usual, yet it beamed with gratitude as she told how kind one and
another had been since her illness had become so serious.
"Where does she sleep?" asked Julia in a half whisper to Nora.
"Why, in that little room where you see the door open. I remember they
told us when we were here before, that she and the girls sleep there,
while the boys have a mattress to themselves on the kitchen floor. They
bring it out every night."
"How dreadful!" was all that Julia had time to say, for she saw
Angelina's sharp eyes turned towards her, and feared that already she
had been impolite in talking thus in an aside to Nora.
The latter, while Miss South was talking with Mrs. Rosa about her recent
symptoms, tried to draw Manuel into conversation, but, as before, only a
word or two at a time could be drawn from him, although his expression
was still as seraphic as ever, even when Nora was half teasing him.
Yet, after all, they had been in the dingy room but a very short time
when Miss South reminded them that it was growing dark, and that Mrs.
Gostar and Mrs. Barlow would both disapprove their being out much later.
As they rode up Hanover street in the car both girls noticed that Miss
South was unusually quiet. At last Julia broke the silence.
"I'm sure that you are thinking about Mrs. Rosa," she said softly.
"Yes," answered Miss South, "I see that something must be done to help
her, but I am not sure just what it should be. Possibly she cannot
recover, or perhaps if she had a good doctor he might advise--but still,
she is almost too poor to take advantage of any advice."
"Yes," said Nora, "suppose a doctor should advise her to go to Colorado,
or California; why he might as well talk about the moon."
"I know it," murmured Julia, "and yet people are sometimes very kind to
the poor."
"Yes, at Christmas especially," rejoined Nora with a laugh. "Did you
hear one of the little girls when I asked her what she had Thanksgiving
say, 'Two turkeys, one Baptist and one 'Piscopal.'"
Julia looked a little shocked at this, but Miss South only smiled. "I am
afraid that loaves and fishes count for a great deal with these people
when they come to select a church. They have discovered that they can
get more from the Protestants than from their own church, and if they
have some little disagreement with a priest, they take advantage of this
to put themselves under the wing of the Bethel, or of Christ Church.
Both have a great many Portuguese in attendance, and I ought not to be
too censorious, for some of them undoubtedly are perfectly sincere."
"How does it happen, Miss South, that you know so much about these poor
North End people?" asked Julia. "There, I did not mean to be
inquisitive, but it seems wonderful that you should understand them so
well."
"To tell you the reason fully," replied she, "would be a long story, but
just now it may be enough to say that I have had a little mission class
down there but a block or two from Mrs. Rosa's for several years. In
this way, spending one evening among them, as well as Sunday afternoon,
I have come to understand the characteristics of these foreigners."
"Have you known Mrs. Rosa all this time?" asked Nora.
"Oh, no indeed, I never had seen her until after you rescued Manuel. But
since then I have called at the house two or three times and I have
grown to like Mrs. Rosa very well. She has more influence over her
children than many other foreign mothers of my acquaintance. But here we
are at Scollay Square, and as it is only five o'clock, would not you
enjoy walking down over Beacon Hill instead of taking another car?"
"Yes, indeed," both girls exclaimed, and pleased enough they were with
their choice. For as they wound in and out through some of the
picturesque streets of the West End, Miss South almost made the old
streets alive again with the people of the past. As they passed the head
of Hancock street back of the State House,
"Down there," she said, "was the Sumner homestead, where Charles Sumner
lived for many years." Then as they continued down Mt. Vernon street,
toward Louisbourg Square, she told them that here was once the estate of
Rev. William Blackstone.
"Historians," she added, "believe that the spring of fresh water whose
discovery by Blackstone led Winthrop's party to prefer Boston to
Charlestown, was probably not far from the centre of the grassplot in
the square. But we must walk quickly," she concluded, as they turned to
a side street that led them to the familiar Beacon street.
"I have come over here to call your attention to this curved front of
cream white at the middle of the slope. You have passed it hundreds of
times, Nora, but I wonder if you have ever realized that it was for many
years the home of William Hickling Prescott, the historian, and that
here he wrote many of his finest works."
Nora was ashamed to admit that she hardly remembered what Prescott had
written. But Julia, whose historical reading had been unusually deep for
one of her years, was delighted to see the home of the author of
"Ferdinand and Isabella." If there had been no old landmarks to look at
they all would have enjoyed the walk to the utmost. Few streets in the
world are more beautiful than Beacon street, at dusk or after the lamps
are lighted. Those who walk westward at this time of day have the Common
and the Garden on one side, the dignified old houses on the other, and
winding far in front of them the long street with its long lines of
lamps, while far off in the west the heights of Brookline whose brightly
lit houses and twinkling street lamps suggest a huge castle as the end
of the journey. Home for Julia and Nora, however, lay far this side of
Brookline, and it was not long before they had to bid Miss South
good-bye, with many thanks for her kindness.
Nora at dinner that evening was full of the experiences of the
afternoon, and her mother and father and the younger boys were not only
interested, but had various suggestions to make as to the most helpful
things to do for the Rosas. I won't say that the boys were always
practical, for with their minds full of the approaching Christmas they
could think of little that was really worth while doing except giving
the family an elaborately decorated Christmas tree.
Dr. Gostar promised to find out whether Mrs. Rosa was having the proper
kind of medical treatment, and Mrs. Gostar said that she would try to
talk with Miss South and learn whether there was any special thing that
she could do.
"The Christmas tree is not a very bad suggestion," said their mother
consolingly to the boys when she saw that they were disappointed that
their father treated this as a matter of slight importance.
"Why I think that it would be just lovely to give them a tree," added
Nora, "if, if, that is, you know that we must not forget Brenda."
"Of course not," replied her mother, "but Brenda does not own the Rosas,
in fact I should be inclined to think that she had forgotten them
lately."
"Oh, she has made up her mind that she is going to accomplish something
wonderful for them by means of the Easter Bazaar, and----"
"In the meantime she would leave them to starve."
"Oh, papa, you are laughing at me; Miss South says that there is no
danger of any one's starving in Boston."
"All the same you cannot expect me to encourage a dog-in-the-manger
disposition in Brenda, and you have so good an adviser in Miss South
that I am willing to help you to carry out any plans which she starts."
Dr. Gostar was so far right in his estimate of Brenda that he would have
felt more than justified in what he had said to Nora had he looked in at
the Barlows at dinner-time. For he might then have seen that Brenda was
very much disturbed, and from her lips he would have heard some very
cross words.
"Really, Julia, I think that it was awfully unkind in you and Nora to go
to see the Rosas without me; you know that I wanted to see them, and you
never gave me the least idea that you were going."
"But I am sure that Miss South invited you to go to the North End with
us."
"Well, you never said a word about the Rosas, and you know that I do not
care at all about old streets and houses, and besides, I could not have
gone this afternoon, so that you might have waited."
"How unreasonable you are, Brenda, and inconsiderate towards Julia,"
interposed her mother. "Really I had begun to hope that you were
improving, and here you are, crosser than ever."
"Yes, Brenda, don't let me hear you talk in that way again," added her
father.
"Well, I don't think it's fair for Julia and Miss South and Nora to keep
making plans for the Rosas when I was the one who first wanted to do
something for them; you remember, papa, that I asked you to buy a carpet
for them, and I have been thinking so much about that Bazaar, but now it
won't be a bit of good if everything is going to be done for them at
Christmas."
"Nonsense, Brenda, you can have a share in Julia's Christmas tree, and I
cannot feel that your interest in them has continued very strong. It
seems to me that you have been more interested in the Bazaar than in the
Rosas, and that now you should be willing to let others make plans for
them."
During all the discussion Julia had had little to say, but she resolved
at the earliest opportunity to ask Miss South to tell Brenda the exact
condition of the Rosas.
XVIII
MERRY CHRISTMAS
When Miss South heard of Brenda's feeling on the subject of the Rosas
she hastened to invite her to assist in the Christmas tree enterprise
"not so much with money, Brenda," she said, "as with your taste. I know
that you and Belle can make several of the decorations for the tree.
Money to spend for the things has been given me by a friend, and we
shall have more than enough."
With this suggestion Brenda was not at all displeased, for she had spent
more than double her liberal allowance of Christmas money on gifts for
her friends. A foolish habit of exchanging presents had grown up at
school, and each girl tried to return the presents of the season before
with something handsomer than the giver had bestowed on her. In this way
those who had to consider money were called mean if they did not give a
handsome present to all those whom they knew, that is those girls with
whom they had anything more than a speaking acquaintance. The ever
extravagant Brenda had reached almost the end of the list of those whom
she wished to remember with Christmas gifts, and had had to go to her
father for more money, which he gave her only on condition that she
should deduct it from her allowance of the next two months. It was
probably this knowledge that she could do little for the Christmas tree
for the Rosas which had led her at first to express herself rather
ill-naturedly to Julia on the subject.
Mr. Barlow always protested a little against Brenda's present-giving
habit. He said that it was very foolish to give a silver pin-tray to a
girl who perhaps already had a half-dozen similar articles, which she
would probably return with a silver scent bottle, of which Brenda
already had more than she could use in a lifetime. "It would be much
more sensible if each of you would go out and buy the thing which you
wish the most for yourself and let others do the same. I have an idea
that your wants would be less numerous and less costly if you felt that
you were spending your own money for yourself."
"Oh! papa."
"Yes, I mean it. If you were in the habit of buying more books, it would
not be so bad, there would be little danger of your having too many, and
one book, if a duplicate, could be properly exchanged for another. But
you buy such foolish things for one another, and the chief aim of each
girl seems to be to outdo every other girl."
"Oh, papa, I'm sure we all make out lists of what we want the most, and
we always try to please one another, indeed we always do, and one can't
be mean; I'm sure you wouldn't want any one to call me mean."
"Now, Brenda, of course not; but there are different kinds of meanness,
and I wonder how many of you girls at Miss Crawdon's ever stop to think
how many little comforts your Christmas presents would buy for the needy
men and women who have so little to brighten their lives. No, Brenda, I
do not begrudge you the money that I give you, but I often do object to
your way of spending it--sometimes," he hastened to add, as he saw the
frown gathering on Brenda's face.
But, after all, it would take too long to tell you how thoroughly in
earnest Julia and the others were in their efforts to make the Christmas
tree a success. The tree, to be sure, was the least part of it. For Mrs.
Rosa's small kitchen was not adapted to a very large one, and Miss South
decided that it would be rather foolish to put too much money into a
thing of that kind. The decorations were inexpensive, or homemade, and
the presents were useful rather than ornamental. Of course there were
toys and colored picture-books for Manuel and the smaller girls, and
bags of candy and oranges for each of the family, and candles enough on
the tree to make a cheerful illumination for five or ten minutes while
Miss South and Philip stood near by with pails of water ready to use in
case a spark of fire should fall where it was not expected. But after
all, things went off very well, and when the Four, or rather the
Five--for Julia, of course, was included--drove down to see the
distribution of the presents, they had hardly standing-room in the
little kitchen. Julia and Miss South had done the most of the
purchasing, and the things that they had thought of were innumerable. I
need not tell you what they all were, but there was a new rug to go in
front of the stove, and there were two wadded quilts for each of the
family beds, there was a new gown for Mrs. Rosa, and mittens and shoes
for all the children, and--but it is better for you to imagine it all,
only remembering that when a family is absolutely destitute, a great
deal of money may be spent without making a great show. The Christmas
dinner had been sent by the Baptist Church, and on Christmas evening the
children were to go to a festival at the Episcopal Church where they
expected to receive some other presents. For even Miss South had not yet
had enough influence to get the Rosas to devote themselves to one
church. They still continued to think that to attend two Protestant
churches showed a praiseworthy excess of virtue.
But whatever the trouble and expense had been, the beaming faces of Mrs.
Rosa and the children were sufficient compensation for Miss South and
her pupils. Even Belle had no fault to find with the tree, or the Rosas
or with anything connected with the celebration.
But for Julia one of the pleasantest results of the Christmas tree was
the intimacy which grew up between her and Miss South, a rather unusual
friendship to have arisen between a girl of sixteen and a woman ten
years older.
Mr. and Mrs. Barlow were pleased with the animation which Julia had
shown in this work for the Christmas tree, and they had no objection to
the intimacy with Miss South, since Miss Crawdon had assured them that
they knew her to be a young woman of unusually fine character. Just
after Christmas Miss South went up to the country for a week or two of
perfect rest, and Julia for the first time since she came to Boston
found herself entering into a round of gaiety. Dancing parties were
given almost every evening by some one of the schoolgirls, and no one
thought of inviting Brenda without asking Julia, too. It is true that
Julia did not care very much for round dances, but she had come to see
that it was almost a duty to enter more heartily into the amusements of
her schoolmates. So, putting aside--so far as she could--her natural
diffidence--she almost always accompanied Brenda, and though she could
not take part in round dances, she seldom had to sit alone. There was
always some other girl who did not dance, or who had not been asked for
the dance, and not infrequently some awkward boy who preferred sitting
it out to dancing. On some occasions, even when there had been but two
or three square dances in which Julia could take part, she had reported
to her uncle and aunt at breakfast the next morning that she had enjoyed
herself very much.
"A contented mind is a continual feast," said Belle, sarcastically, when
she heard Julia telling some one how much she had enjoyed a certain
evening. "Why, I do not think that Julia was on the floor twice.
Whenever I saw her she was talking to wall flowers, or small boys who
ought to have been at home or in bed." By "small boy," Belle meant any
one who was not yet in college, for she herself was hardly polite to any
one younger than a sophomore, and she wondered that any hostess to whose
house she was invited should think of having any one there younger than
this. But the best-intentioned hostess sometimes had young cousins or
nephews whom she wished to invite, and the two or three years'
difference in age between a sophomore and a boy still in the preparatory
school did not count for much in her eyes, however it may have been
regarded by some of the girls of Belle's age.
Yet in spite of Belle's unfavorable criticisms, Julia was gradually
winning her way to considerable popularity, and this without any effort
on her own part. She was especially polite to elderly ladies, not from
any motive, but because this seemed the proper thing, and her natural
kindliness of heart led her to look after any other girl who seemed
neglected or lonely. As to the boys--well, while no one could tell
exactly how it was, she had a way of drawing them out and making even
those who hated parties, admit to her that if more girls were like her
they wouldn't mind going out. "But most girls, you know, just order us
boys about so, and we have to dance whether we want to or not, or they
call us all kinds of things behind our backs," one of them said to Julia
one evening.
"Why, how do you know?" she had asked.
"Oh, our sisters tell us; why haven't you any brothers yourself?"
"No," said Julia, laughing at his earnestness, "nor any sisters either."
"Oh, well, you know lots of girls, and you must have heard them talk. I
can tell you after I have heard my sisters and their friends talking
people over, I think that I will never go to a party again."
"Then why do you?"