GOLDILOCKS
After the last excitement peace descended upon Plumfield and reigned
unbroken for several weeks, for the elder boys felt that the loss of
Nan and Rob lay at their door, and all became so paternal in their care
that they were rather wearying; while the little ones listened to Nan’s
recital of her perils so many times, that they regarded being lost as
the greatest ill humanity was heir to, and hardly dared to put their
little noses outside the great gate lest night should suddenly descend
upon them, and ghostly black cows come looming through the dusk.
“It’s too good to last,” said Mrs. Jo; for years of boy-culture had
taught her that such lulls were usually followed by outbreaks of some
sort, and when less wise women would have thought that the boys had
become confirmed saints, she prepared herself for a sudden eruption of
the domestic volcano.
One cause of this welcome calm was a visit from little Bess, whose
parents lent her for a week while they were away with Grandpa Laurence,
who was poorly. The boys regarded Goldilocks as a mixture of child,
angel, and fairy, for she was a lovely little creature, and the golden
hair which she inherited from her blonde mamma enveloped her like
a shining veil, behind which she smiled upon her worshippers when
gracious, and hid herself when offended. Her father would not have it
cut and it hung below her waist, so soft and fine and bright, that
Demi insisted that it was silk spun from a cocoon. Every one praised
the little Princess, but it did not seem to do her harm, only to teach
her that her presence brought sunshine, her smiles made answering
smiles on other faces, and her baby griefs filled every heart with
tenderest sympathy.
Unconsciously she did her young subjects more good than many a real
sovereign, for her rule was very gentle and her power was felt rather
than seen. Her natural refinement made her dainty in all things, and
had a good effect upon the careless lads about her. She would let no
one touch her roughly or with unclean hands, and more soap was used
during her visits than at any other time, because the boys considered
it the highest honor to be allowed to carry her highness, and the
deepest disgrace to be repulsed with the disdainful command, “Do away,
dirty boy!”
Loud voices displeased her and quarrelling frightened her; so gentler
tones came into the boyish voices as they addressed her, and squabbles
were promptly suppressed in her presence by lookers-on if the
principals could not restrain themselves. She liked to be waited on,
and the biggest boys did her little errands without a murmur, while the
small lads were her devoted slaves in all things. They begged to be
allowed to draw her carriage, bear her berry-basket, or pass her plate
at table. No service was too humble, and Tommy and Ned came to blows
before they could decide which should have the honor of blacking her
little boots.
Nan was especially benefited by a week in the society of a well-bred
lady, though such a very small one; for Bess would look at her with
a mixture of wonder and alarm in her great blue eyes when the hoyden
screamed and romped; and she shrunk from her as if she thought her a
sort of wild animal. Warm-hearted Nan felt this very much. She said at
first, “Pooh! I don’t care!” But she did care, and was so hurt when
Bess said, “I love my tuzzin best, tause she is twiet,” that she shook
poor Daisy till her teeth chattered in her head, and then fled to the
barn to cry dismally. In that general refuge for perturbed spirits she
found comfort and good counsel from some source or other. Perhaps the
swallows from their mud-built nests overhead twittered her a little
lecture on the beauty of gentleness. However that might have been,
she came out quite subdued, and carefully searched the orchard for a
certain kind of early apple that Bess liked because it was sweet and
small and rosy. Armed with this peace-offering, she approached the
Princess, and humbly presented it. To her great joy it was graciously
accepted, and when Daisy gave Nan a forgiving kiss, Bess did likewise,
as if she felt that she had been too severe, and desired to apologize.
After this they played pleasantly together, and Nan enjoyed the royal
favor for days. To be sure she felt a little like a wild bird in a
pretty cage at first, and occasionally had to slip out to stretch her
wings in a long flight, or to sing at the top of her voice, where
neither would disturb the plump turtle-dove Daisy, nor the dainty
golden canary Bess. But it did her good; for, seeing how every one
loved the little Princess for her small graces and virtues, she began
to imitate her, because Nan wanted much love, and tried hard to win it.
Not a boy in the house but felt the pretty child’s influence, and was
improved by it without exactly knowing how or why, for babies can
work miracles in the hearts that love them. Poor Billy found infinite
satisfaction in staring at her, and though she did not like it she
permitted it without a frown, after she had been made to understand
that he was not quite like the others, and on that account must be more
kindly treated. Dick and Dolly overwhelmed her with willow whistles,
the only thing they knew how to make, and she accepted but never used
them. Rob served her like a little lover, and Teddy followed her like
a pet dog. Jack she did not like, because he was afflicted with warts
and had a harsh voice. Stuffy displeased her because he did not eat
tidily, and George tried hard not to gobble, that he might not disgust
the dainty little lady opposite. Ned was banished from court in utter
disgrace when he was discovered tormenting some unhappy field-mice.
Goldilocks never could forget the sad spectacle, and retired behind her
veil when he approached, waving him away with an imperious little hand,
and crying, in a tone of mingled grief and anger,--
“No, I tarn’t love him; he tut the poor mouses’ little tails off, and
they queeked!”
Daisy promptly abdicated when Bess came, and took the humble post of
chief cook, while Nan was first maid of honor; Emil was chancellor
of the exchequer, and spent the public moneys lavishly in getting up
spectacles that cost whole ninepences. Franz was prime minister, and
directed her affairs of state, planned royal progresses through the
kingdom, and kept foreign powers in order. Demi was her philosopher,
and fared much better than such gentlemen usually do among crowned
heads. Dan was her standing army, and defended her territories
gallantly; Tommy was court fool, and Nat a tuneful Rizzio to this
innocent little Mary.
Uncle Fritz and Aunt Jo enjoyed this peaceful episode, and looked on at
the pretty play in which the young folk unconsciously imitated their
elders, without adding the tragedy that is so apt to spoil the dramas
acted on the larger stage.
“They teach us quite as much as we teach them,” said Mr. Bhaer.
“Bless the dears! they never guess how many hints they give us as to
the best way of managing them,” answered Mrs. Jo.
“I think you were right about the good effect of having girls among
the boys. Nan _has_ stirred up Daisy, and Bess is teaching the little
bears how to behave better than we can. If this reformation goes on as
it has begun, I shall soon feel like Dr. Blimber with his model young
gentlemen,” said Professor, laughing, as he saw Tommy not only remove
his own hat, but knock off Ned’s also, as they entered the hall where
the Princess was taking a ride on the rocking-horse, attended by Rob
and Teddy astride of chairs, and playing gallant knights to the best of
their ability.
“You will never be a Blimber, Fritz, you couldn’t do it if you tried;
and our boys will never submit to the forcing process of that famous
hot-bed. No fear that they will be too elegant: American boys like
liberty too well. But good manners they cannot fail to have, if we
give them the kindly spirit that shines through the simplest demeanor,
making it courteous and cordial, like yours, my dear old boy.”
“Tut! tut! we will not compliment; for if I begin you will run away,
and I have a wish to enjoy this happy half hour to the end;” yet Mr.
Bhaer looked pleased with the compliment, for it was true, and Mrs.
Jo felt that she had received the best her husband could give her, by
saying that he found his truest rest and happiness in her society.
“To return to the children: I have just had another proof of
Goldilocks’ good influence,” said Mrs. Jo, drawing her chair nearer
the sofa, where the Professor lay resting after a long day’s work in
his various gardens. “Nan hates sewing, but for love of Bess has been
toiling half the afternoon over a remarkable bag in which to present a
dozen of our love-apples to her idol when she goes. I praised her for
it, and she said, in her quick way, ‘I like to sew for other people;
it is stupid sewing for myself.’ I took the hint, and shall give her
some little shirts and aprons for Mrs. Carney’s children. She is so
generous, she will sew her fingers sore for them, and I shall not have
to make a task of it.”
“But needlework is not a fashionable accomplishment, my dear.”
“Sorry for it. My girls shall learn all I can teach them about it,
even if they give up the Latin, Algebra, and half-a-dozen ologies it
is considered necessary for girls to muddle their poor brains over
now-a-days. Amy means to make Bess an accomplished woman; but the
dear’s mite of a forefinger has little pricks on it already, and her
mother has several specimens of needlework which she values more than
the clay bird without a bill, that filled Laurie with such pride when
Bess made it.”
“I also have a proof of the Princess’s power,” said Mr. Bhaer, after
he had watched Mrs. Jo sew on a button with an air of scorn for the
whole system of fashionable education. “Jack is so unwilling to be
classed with Stuffy and Ned, as distasteful to Bess, that he came to
me a little while ago, and asked me to touch his warts with caustic. I
have often proposed it, and he never would consent; but now he bore the
smart manfully, and consoles his present discomfort by hopes of future
favor, when he can show her fastidious ladyship a smooth hand.”
Mrs. Bhaer laughed at the story, and just then Stuffy came in to ask if
he might give Goldilocks some of the bonbons his mother had sent him.
“She is not allowed to eat sweeties; but if you like to give her
the pretty box with the pink sugar-rose in it, she would like it
very much,” said Mrs. Jo, unwilling to spoil this unusual piece of
self-denial, for the “fat boy” seldom offered to share his sugar-plums.
“Won’t she eat it? I shouldn’t like to make her sick,” said Stuffy,
eying the delicate sweetmeat lovingly, yet putting it into the box.
“Oh, no, she won’t touch it, if I tell her it is to look at, not to
eat. She will keep it for weeks, and never think of tasting it. Can you
do as much?”
“I should hope so! I’m ever so much older than she is,” cried Stuffy,
indignantly.
“Well, suppose we try. Here, put your bonbons in this bag, and see how
long you can keep them. Let me count--two hearts, four red fishes,
three barley-sugar horses, nine almonds, and a dozen chocolate drops.
Do you agree to that?” asked sly Mrs. Jo, popping the sweeties into her
little spool-bag.
“Yes,” said Stuffy, with a sigh; and pocketing the forbidden fruit,
he went away to give Bess the present, that won a smile from her, and
permission to escort her round the garden.
“Poor Stuffy’s heart has really got the better of his stomach at last,
and his efforts will be much encouraged by the rewards Bess gives him,”
said Mrs. Jo.
“Happy the man who can put temptation in his pocket and learn
self-denial from so sweet a little teacher!” added Mr. Bhaer, as
the children passed the window, Stuffy’s fat face full of placid
satisfaction, and Goldilocks surveying her sugar-rose with polite
interest, though she would have preferred a real flower with a “pitty
smell.”
When her father came to take her home, a universal wail arose, and the
parting gifts showered upon her increased her luggage to such an extent
that Mr. Laurie proposed having out the big wagon to take it into
town. Every one had given her something; and it was found difficult to
pack white mice, cake, a parcel of shells, apples, a rabbit kicking
violently in a bag, a large cabbage for his refreshment, a bottle of
minnows, and a mammoth bouquet. The farewell scene was moving, for
the Princess sat upon the hall-table, surrounded by her subjects. She
kissed her cousins, and held out her hand to the other boys, who shook
it gently with various soft speeches, for they were taught not to be
ashamed of showing their emotions.
“Come again soon, little dear,” whispered Dan, fastening his best
green-and-gold beetle in her hat.
“Don’t forget me, Princess, whatever you do,” said the engaging Tommy,
taking a last stroke of the pretty hair.
“I am coming to your house next week, and then I shall see you, Bess,”
added Nat, as if he found consolation in the thought.
“Do shake hands now,” cried Jack, offering a smooth paw.
“Here are two nice new ones to remember us by,” said Dick and Dolly,
presenting fresh whistles, quite unconscious that seven old ones had
been privately deposited in the kitchen-stove.
“My little precious! I shall work you a bookmark right away, and you
must keep it always,” said Nan, with a warm embrace.
But of all the farewells, poor Billy’s was the most pathetic, for the
thought that she was really going became so unbearable that he cast
himself down before her, hugging her little blue boots and blubbering
despairingly, “Don’t go away! oh, don’t!” Goldilocks was so touched by
this burst of feeling, that she leaned over and lifting the poor lad’s
head, said, in her soft, little voice,--
“Don’t cry, poor Billy! I will tiss you and tum adain soon.”
This promise consoled Billy, and he fell back beaming with pride at the
unusual honor conferred upon him.
“Me too! me too!” clamored Dick and Dolly, feeling that their devotion
deserved some return. The others looked as if they would like to join
in the cry; and something in the kind, merry faces about her moved the
Princess to stretch out her arms and say, with reckless condescension,--
“I will tiss evvybody!”
Like a swarm of bees about a very sweet flower, the affectionate lads
surrounded their pretty playmate, and kissed her till she looked like a
little rose, not roughly, but so enthusiastically that nothing but the
crown of her hat was visible for a moment. Then her father rescued her,
and she drove away still smiling and waving her hands, while the boys
sat on the fence screaming like a flock of guinea-fowls, “Come back!
come back!” till she was out of sight.
They all missed her, and each dimly felt that he was better for
having known a creature so lovely, delicate, and sweet; for little
Bess appealed to the chivalrous instinct in them as something to
love, admire, and protect with a tender sort of reverence. Many a man
remembers some pretty child who has made a place in his heart and kept
her memory alive by the simple magic of her innocence; these little
men were just learning to feel this power, and to love it for its
gentle influence, not ashamed to let the small hand lead them, nor to
own their loyalty to womankind, even in the bud.