any lark, between the daylight and the dark, and our mistress loved it
well. But now, I grieve to tell, she scarcely sings a note; no more
the sweet songs float like spirits through the gloom, making gay the
quiet room.
"I cannot tell how much her little fingers' touch ever thrills me with
delight; how my keys, black and white, love to dance as she plays; how
my pedal quick obeys, and bass and treble blend, to please our little
friend.
"But now she sits apart, with discord in her heart, forgetting I am
here with power to soothe and cheer; that she'd better sing than sigh,
better laugh than cry, for hearts get out of tune, and should be mended
soon.
"Little Fanny, sing again, like a bird in spite of rain. Fill the
house with music gay, make a concert of each day; and when others play
on you, answer sweetly, as I do."
"Why, it's talking poetry, I do believe!" cried Fanny, as the last
words went echoing through the room and died away.
"How any one can be lonely with us for friends is hard to understand,"
said another voice from the bookcase. "Here we are, lots of us, rows
of us, regiments of us; every sort of story book; here's fairy tales
new and old; here's Robinson Crusoe and dear old Mother Goose, Mrs.
Barbauld and Miss Edgeworth; here's German picture books and French
fables, English games and American notions, of every kind. Come and
read us, come and read us, and never say again you have no friends, and
nothing to do."
There was such a noise that no one heard Fanny laugh out, for each book
was shouting its own title and making such a stir it sounded like a
wind blowing dry leaves about.
"I don't wish to intrude myself, for I'm not literary, nor musical, nor
botanical; but I am domestic, and have an eye for all useful things,"
said a needle, in a sharp tone, as it sat bolt upright in Fanny's
topsy-turvy basket, on the table.
"I am woman's friend, and with my help she does a deal of good, whiles
away many long hours, and finds a good deal of quiet happiness in my
society. Little girls don't care much for me until they have doll
children to sew for; even then some of them neglect and abuse me, and
don't learn to use me nicely. I know a young lady who hasn't a rag to
her back; and yet her mamma takes no pains to clothe her, though a
charming blue dress, and white apron, and nice little underclothes lie
all ready cut out and basted.
"I pity that poor doll so much that I'd gladly sew for her alone, if I
could. I'm afraid I should be thought rude, if I suggested to the
mamma to sew instead of fretting, so I wouldn't say a word on any
account; but I see more than people would believe, and judge
accordingly."
After which pointed remarks, the needle actually winked at the thimble,
and then sat stiffer than ever in the unfinished blue gown.
Fanny was so ashamed that she turned her face toward the fire, just in
time to see a brilliant spark-spirit standing in a cave of glowing
coals. Waving its tiny hand, the spirit said,--
"Years ago a little girl lived here, who made this the happiest home
ever seen, by her gentle ways, her loving heart, her cheerful voice,
and willing hands.
"Every one loved her, and she was always happy, for duty was pleasant.
The world was bright, and she was never out of tune.
"She tended flowers in the window yonder, and grew as beautiful as
they; she touched the old piano, and filled the house with music; she
fed her little bird, and was as cheerful as he; she read and studied
those books, growing wise and good and gay on the food they gave her;
she sewed busily, clothing naked children as well as dolls, and many
blessed her. She often lay where you lie now, not discontented and
sad, but with a happy heart, a busy fancy, and the love of many friends
to keep her always blithe.
"We loved her well, and we love you for her dear sake. If you would
see her image, look up and try to imitate her."
Rather startled at the serious manner of the sprite, Fanny lifted her
eyes, and there hung the picture of her mother, when a little girl.
She had often seen it before, but it never had seemed so beautiful and
dear as now, when, looking at it with full eyes, little Fanny said
softly to herself,--
"O dear mamma, I will be like you, if I can: I'll find friends where
you found them; I'll make home happy as you did. I'll try to be loved
for your sake, and grow a useful, cheerful, good woman, like you."
X.
A MARINE MERRY-MAKING.
"Are you going to Mrs. Turtle's this evening?" asked a gay young
Periwinkle of his friend Cockle, as they met on the sands.
"Well, I don't know: what is to be done, and who will be there?"
replied Cockle, rather languidly, for it had been a very gay season,
and he was decidedly "used up."
"There will be no dancing, for the alderman doesn't approve of it; but
there is to be singing, tableaux, and a supper of course. It's the
last night of the season; and, as they are having a farewell hop up at
the hotel, we thought we would get up some sort of fun among ourselves.
Lovely Lily Crab will be there; the Lobsters, Barnacles, Horse-shoes,
and Sea-snails, besides the Mosquitoes, Fire-flies, and Water-beetles.
I hear there are also to be strangers of distinction, a Flying-fish, a
Water-shrew, and Mother Carey's Chickens."
"Hum, ha, well; maybe I'll look in for an hour. I rather fancy Lily
Crab; and the alderman gives capital suppers. I'm going to enjoy a
weed; so ta-ta, till this evening."
Young Cockle didn't mean a cigar, but a nap under the sea-weed.
Periwinkle took a weed also; and both were so much refreshed that they
were among the first at the party.
The Turtles were a very aristocratic family, for they were both ancient
and honorable. Their coat-of-arms was a globe resting on a turtle's
back; and so many of their ancestors had been aldermen, it was vain to
try to count them. Even their diseases were aristocratic, for they
always died of apoplexy or gout. Some people said it was because they
were such high livers; but the turtles insisted that it was hereditary,
and couldn't be helped. They were very slow, and rather heavy, but
intensely dignified and well-bred. They lived elegantly, gave fine
parties, and had one son, who was considered a very eligible young
Turtle. It was thought that he would marry the beautiful Lily Crab,
the belle of the bay; but she flirted sadly with Oceanicus Lobster, and
no one could tell which she would take.
The Turtles had chosen a fine, smooth place on the beach, with a pretty
pool near by, for such of the guests as could not remain long out of
water. A flat rock at one end was set apart as a stage for the
tableaux; and at the other end the supper was spread. The alderman
waddled importantly about before the company arrived, looking very
portly and imposing; while his wife, in black velvet and gold
ornaments, sat tranquilly by, and took a little rest before the labors
of the evening began. Columbus, the son, was elegantly got up in a new
suit of black, with a white tie, and a flower in his button-hole. The
moon served for a chandelier; and a party of fireflies had promised to
act as footlights when they were needed. The tide was coming in; and,
instead of carriages, wave after wave rolled up and left its load at
the Turtles' door.
The Barnacles and Mussels came first, for they seldom left home, and
always got back again at an early hour. Miss Mosquito arrived, full of
scandal and gossip, and kept up a perpetual hum in some one's ear,
though everybody disliked, and tried to get rid of her. She was a
vixenish spinster, thin, satirical, sharp-tongued, and so bad-tempered
that people said her name, which was Xantippe, suited her excellently.
A modest little Water-shrew, in Quaker drab, came with the Beetles, who
took their places near the pool, being unused to crowds. The Lobsters,
always a peculiar family, came straggling in, one by one, in their
usual awkward way, and were soon followed by the Periwinkles and
Cockles. A party of Petrels came marching in with the Flying-fish, who
looked, and doubtless felt, entirely out of his element. The bustle
caused by the arrival of the distinguished strangers had just subsided,
when Columbus Turtle and Oceanicus Lobster were seen to rush toward the
door; young Cockle put his glass in his eye, and Periwinkle sighed.
There was a stir among the ladies, and Miss Mosquito spitefully
remarked to her Cousin Firefly, "Dear me! what a fuss they do make
about those vulgar people!"
"Commodore Crab, Mrs. Crab, and Miss Crab!" announced the servant, and
in they came. The commodore had taken part in many sea-fights, and was
famous for never letting go when once he had grappled with a foe. But
he was rather shy in company, and so was madame; and often, when any
one approached to speak to them, they both precipitately retreated
backward, so retiring were the dispositions of this excellent couple.
The commodore wore his orange uniform, and limped, having lost a leg in
battle. Mrs. C. was elegantly attired in green, with red ornaments.
But Miss Crab,--how shall I paint that lovely creature? She was in
snowy white from head to foot, a perfect blonde, and carried in her
hand an exquisite bouquet of rosy seaweed, the sight of which caused
young Turtle to glare at young Lobster, for both had sent bouquets, and
Lily had chosen his rival's. Now her parents wished the young lady to
accept Columbus, for he was rich; but she loved him not, for she had
given her heart to Oceanicus, who was poor. Still, having been
fashionably brought up, she felt it was her duty to secure a fine
establishment; and so she tried to like dull Columbus, while she
flirted with sprightly Oceanicus. Matters had reached a crisis, and it
was evident that something would be decided that very night, for both
gentlemen haunted the fair Lily's steps, and scowled at one another
tragically.
"I always thought there would be mischief there, for that girl's
behavior is scandalous. There was a case very much like this at the
hotel last year, and it ended in an elopement and a suicide," buzzed
Miss Mosquito in the ear of Madam Turtle, who drew herself up, as she
replied, in her most dignified tone, glancing at her son,--
"I have no fears in that quarter: such affairs are conducted with
propriety in our first families. Excuse me: I have a word for Mrs.
Crab."
"If that is a sample of the manners of 'our first families,' I'm glad I
don't belong to 'em," scolded Miss Mosquito to herself. "Ah, if I had
my way, I'd soon spoil your beauty, miss," she muttered, looking at
Lily Crab. And so she would; for this spiteful creature used to
delight in stinging the pretty girls up at the hotel, especially their
poor dear noses, till they weren't fit to be seen.
The Snails came late, as they always did; and one of them, on being
introduced to the Shrew-mouse, began to complain of her servants, as
fashionable ladies are apt to do when they get together.
"There never was such a perfect slave to a house as I am to mine," she
said. "We see a great deal of company, and things must be in order;
but they never are, though we keep ten servants. How do you manage,
ma'am? You look quite plump and serene; and here am I worn to the
bone, with my worries and cares."
"I come from the brook over the hill, and we country people live much
more simply than you city folks. I keep no servants at all, but do
every thing myself, and bring up my eight children without help,"
answered the Shrew-mouse, settling the folds of her white shawl with a
tranquil air.
"Dear me! how remarkable! But, you see, an active life doesn't suit
me. You have always been used to that sort of thing, I dare say, and
so get on very well. _I_ was brought up differently." And, with a
cool stare, the handsome violet Snail moved slowly away, while the
Shrew-mouse and the Beetles laughed among themselves.
"Pray, how came a person who does her own work to get into our set?"
asked Madam Snail of a testy old Horse-shoe whom she much respected.
"Because she is a very charming person, and I advised Turtle to invite
her," replied the Horse-shoe, in a tone as sharp as his tail.
"Dear me! what are we coming to?" sighed the Snail, who, being very
conservative, disliked progress of all kinds.
"My dear sir, I assure you, it's a splendid investment,--perfectly
safe, and very desirable," said old Lobster to the alderman, whom he
held by the button-hole in a corner.
"Are you the president of the bank?" asked old Turtle, with a sly
twinkle of the eye.
"No, sir, not even a director; but I take an interest in it, and, if I
had your means, I'd invest there, for the safest bank I know is that of
my friends Oyster, Mussel, and Company," replied Lobster, who was as
deep an old party as ever swam.
"I'll think of it, and make inquiries, and, if it's all satisfactory,
I'll take your advice, for I value your opinion, and have confidence in
your judgment," said Turtle, who considered Lobster an unprincipled
speculator.
"Praise from you, sir, may well make me proud. You will certainly be
re-elected, and remain an alderman to the day of your death, if the
influence and vote of A. Lobster can keep you in place," answered the
other, who looked upon Turtle as a thick-headed, easy-going old
gentleman, whom it would not be difficult to defraud of his money in
some strictly business-like way.
"It's all right: he'll nibble, and we shall float in spite of fate,"
whispered Lobster to his friend Hercules Mussel, in a tone of
exultation, for the fact was the bank of Oyster, Mussel, and Company
was in a very desperate state, though few suspected it.
Meantime Miss Lily was driving her lovers to despair, by being
extremely amiable to both. She sat on a sea-green sofa, fanning
herself with a tiny coral fan, while the two gentlemen stood before
her, trying to annoy each other and amuse her.
"Sad affair, that of Bessie Barnacle and young Cockle, wasn't it?" said
Columbus, in his slow way, thinking it would please Lily to pity or
condemn her former rival.
"What was it? I've been shut up for a week with a sad cold, and have
heard nothing," replied the young lady, fixing her large eyes on
Columbus in a way that confused him dreadfully in his story.
"Why, you know, she was all but engaged to Phillip Periwinkle, cousin
to Tom who is here to-night; but just as the thing was considered
settled, Charley Cockle cut in, and they eloped. Her family insist
that she was torn away; but I doubt it."
"So do I. Any girl of sense would prefer a fine fellow like Charley,
without a cent, to a noodle worth half a million, like Phil
Periwinkle," said Oceanicus, in a tone that made the blood of Columbus
boil.
"It was a most improper and ungentlemanly thing to do, and no one but a
low-born puppy would have done it," he answered grimly.
"Well, I should say Phil was the puppy, to take a beating so quietly.
I consider it a spirited thing on Charley's part, and I fancy Miss Lily
agrees with me," returned Oceanicus, with an insinuating smile and bow.
"You oughtn't to ask me such naughty questions," simpered Lily behind
her fan. "It was dreadfully improper, and all that sort of thing, I
know; but then it was so romantic, and I adore romance,--don't you, Mr.
Turtle?"
"Decidedly not that style of it. In good families such things are not
allowed; but it is no more than I should expect of a Cockle," remarked
Columbus, with scorn.
"Now, really, my dear fellow, you ought not to be so severe, when your
Cousin Theresa did the same thing, you know."
As Oceanicus said this, he looked straight at young Turtle in the most
impertinent manner. But for once Columbus was his match, for he said
coolly, "Old Barnacle vows he will have Cockle imprisoned, if he can
find a fit place for such a young rascal, and I advised him to try a
lobster-pot."
Now that was a direct insult, for Oceanicus had been caught in one not
long ago, on his way home from a frolic, and would have been boiled if
his friends had not gone to the rescue. It was considered a sad
disgrace to die by boiling, or to be caught in any way; so the Lobster
family hushed it up as carefully as the Turtles did Theresa's runaway
match. Oceanicus gave Columbus a look which he long remembered, but
said nothing to him; and turning to Miss Crab, as if they were alone,
he murmured regretfully, "My dear Lily, it must be dreadfully dull for
you with no dancing. Won't you let me bring you something to eat? I
see they have begun supper at last."
"I was about to take Miss Crab down myself," said young Turtle,
haughtily.
"Now don't quarrel and be absurd about me. I am going to stay here,
and you may each bring me something. I could fancy a shrimp, and a
glass of briny," said Miss Lily, hoping to soothe the angry gentlemen.
Both rushed away; but Oceanicus, who was always brisk, got back first,
and whispered, as he handed the glass, "Remember after the tableaux."
"Oh, dear, no! I couldn't think of it!" cried Miss Lily, with a little
scream. "Now you may hold my things, while I eat. Be careful not to
break that, for I value it very much," she added, as she handed Turtle
the fan he had given her. "How sweet they are! I do so love flowers,"
she went on taking a long sniff at her bouquet before she gave it to
Lobster to hold. Then, taking off her gloves, she coquettishly sipped
her wine; and, holding the shrimp in one delicate claw, she daintily
picked off its legs, putting them bit by bit into her mouth, till
nothing but the tail remained, which Turtle kept as a love-token.
"My dear creature, how miserably you are looking: I'm afraid this gay
season has been too much for you. People at your time of life should
be careful of themselves," said Miss Mosquito to Fanny Firefly, who was
a universal favorite, being a bright, merry little lady.
"I'm very well, thank you, dear, and none the worse for my gayeties.
If you can stand a dissipated season, I guess I can, for you are older
than me, you know," returned Miss Fanny, sweetly, as she walked away
with Tom Periwinkle, who shunned "Miss Skeet," as he called her, as if
she had been a walking pest,--a flying one she certainly was.
"Poor girl! I'm sorry she is losing her good looks so fast, and
getting so sharp and sour. She used to be rather pretty and amiable,
but she is quite spoilt, and having neither money nor accomplishments
she will soon be quite forgotten," said Xantippe, with a sigh that said
plainly, "If she was like me, now, she'd be every thing that was good
and charming."
"How are the Horse-shoes getting on, Miss Mosquito?" asked Mrs. Turtle.
"I don't see much of them, they are not in my set, you know. People
who rose from mud, and still have relations living there, are not the
sort of persons with whom I care to associate," replied Xantippe, with
a scornful perk of her long nose.
Now both the Turtles and Lobsters had connections in Mudville, and so
of course were offended by that speech. Old Mrs. Lobster turned as red
as if she had been boiled; but Mrs. Turtle never forgot herself, and
changed the subject by saying politely, "We are going to have supper
early on account of the tableaux: as you are going to act, won't you
step down with me and have some refreshment before the rush begins?"
"Thank you, I'm going to supper at the hotel by and by. I'm rather
delicate, you know, and I find the things I get there agree with me
better than common suppers. I see Mrs. Barnacle is expecting me to
come and amuse her, so I must fly. Pray take care and not excite
yourself, my dear lady, for you know apoplexy is sadly fatal to your
family. You, Mrs. Lobster, are happy in being free from that
aristocratic complaint." And with these farewell stings, Miss Mosquito
buzzed away, leaving the two old ladies to exclaim angrily, as they
settled their cap-ribbons, "Xantippe gets quite unbearable. She is
regularly blood-thirsty, and stabs right and left with her cruel
tongue. Let us go and have a comfortable dish of tea, my dear; I'm
sure we need it."
It was very amusing to see the company at supper; the alderman trying
to think of his guests before himself; the young ladies delicately
picking at their food, and pretending to have no appetite after taking
a hearty tea at home; the young men eating every thing they could lay
their hands on, and drinking more than was good for them. The old
ladies were rather neglected, but made the best of it, and slipped a
few trifles into their pockets for the dears at home; while their stout
husbands stuffed till they were speechless.
After supper, there was singing; and the Petrels came out splendidly,
for they were a glee club, and sung all sorts of sea-songs in fine
style, particularly "A Life on the Ocean Wave," and "Rocked in the
Cradle of the Deep." Miss Mosquito, in a shrill small voice, sang
Tennyson's "Blow, Bugle, blow;" and Mrs. Shrew-mouse gave a lullaby
very sweetly. Old Lobster, who was a gay fellow still, warbled "I know
a bank," which made Old Turtle laugh till they thought he would
certainly go off in a fit; and, to Lily's delight, young Lobster's
serenade entirely eclipsed young Turtle's _barcarolle_. After this,
the Flying-Fish performed some wonderful feats in the pool; and the
Beetles were allowed as a special favor to show the young people the
new Grasshopper-step which was all the rage.
Then came the tableaux. A row of fireflies made capital foot-lights; a
thick cobweb was the curtain, and two spiders were engaged to work it.
Monsieur Hyla, a tree-frog, piped sweetly between the pictures, and
every thing went smoothly. The first was a scene from "The Tempest."
A venerable Horse-shoe was Prospero, and his stiff tail was very
effective as the magic wand. Lily Crab was Miranda, and looked lovely
as she gazed admiringly at Oceanicus, who played Ferdinand. A Hedgehog
did Caliban; a Firefly was Ariel; and the picture was a great success
everybody said but Columbus Turtle.
The alderman himself consented to appear in the next as the Ancient
Mariner telling his story to the wedding guest. His face was wanting
in expression, and he was rather stout for the haunted man; but as
several members of his family had led seafaring lives, and died at
fabulously great ages, he felt it was an appropriate part for him.
Young Lobster was the detained guest, and was really fine in the
longing look he gave at the bridal train just passing by. Columbus was
the bridegroom, and Lily the bride, and very sweet she looked under her
veil; while Turtle was absolutely brilliant with momentary excitement.
The "Three Fishers" followed, and was the gem of the whole, for one of
the Petrels chanted the words as the scenes were shown. First, the
fishers were seen "sailing out into the west" on the pool in large
shells. A Jelly-fish, young Cockle, and Tom Periwinkle were the
fishers, and the ladies applauded violently, as they rowed gallantly
away. Then the three wives appeared up in the light-house tower, which
was made by collecting the fireflies on the top of the rock, while the
Shrew-mouse, Miss Beetle, and Miss Snail, as the wives, looked
anxiously out for the boats "that would never come back to the land."
The gentlemen quite brought down the house at this, but the ladies
thought it "just a trifle flat." The last scene was really thrilling,
for the "three corpses lay out on the shining sands," and "the women
were weeping and wringing their hands" most tragically. Young
Jelly-fish was very ghostly, and the anguish of Mrs. Shrew-mouse so
capitally acted it was evident she had known sorrow. "The Lily Maid of
Astolat" followed, for that and the "Fishers" are always favorites at
the seaside. Of course Lily Crab was the maid, laid on a bed of
splendid sea-weeds in the great rosy-lipped shell which was the boat.
In the prow sat a toad, as the faithful old dwarf who steered her down
to Camelot, and his ugliness made her beauty more dazzling. On the
shore of the pool stood the handsomest Petrel, as King Arthur; another
was Lancelot; and a pretty Miss Periwinkle was Guinevere. A good many
of the company had not read "Idyls of the King," and hadn't the least
idea what it all meant; but they took care to look as if they did, and
patted their hands with an approving, "Very sweet," "Quite exquisite;"
"Really, it does the young people a vast deal of credit;" "Altogether
_commy la faut_," as old Mrs. Lobster said, trying to be elegant,
though she was a very ordinary woman, who could do nothing but make
salads, for her father kept a restaurant years ago.