 7 Jill's Mission The good times began immediately, and very little studying was done that week in spite of the virtuous resolutions made by certain young persons on Christmas Day. But dear me, how was it possible to settle down to lessons in the delightful bird room with not only its own charms to distract one, but all the new gifts to enjoy and a dozen calls a day to occupy one's time? I guess we'd better wait till the others are at school and just go in for fun this week, said Jack, who was in great spirits at the prospect of getting up, for the splints were off, and he hoped to be promoted to crutches very soon. I shall keep my speller by me and take a look at it every day, for that is what I am most backward in. But I intend to vote myself to you, Jack, and be real kind and useful. I've made a plan to do it, and I mean to carry it out anyway, answered Jill, who had begun to be a missionary and felt that this was a field of labour where she could distinguish herself. Here's a home mission all ready for you, and you can be paying your debts besides doing yourself good, Mrs. Peck said to her in private, having found plenty to do herself. Now Jill made one great mistake at the outset. She forgot that she was the one to be converted to good manners and gentleness, and devoted her efforts to looking after Jack, finding it much easier to cure other people's faults than her own. Jack was a most engaging heathen, and needed very little instruction. Therefore Jill thought her task would be an easy one. But three or four weeks of petting in play had rather demoralized both children. So Jill's speller, though tucked under the sofa pillow every day, was seldom looked at, and Jack shirked his Latin shamefully. Both read all the storybooks they could get, held daily levies in the bird room, and all their spare minutes were spent in teaching Snowdrop, the great Angora cat, to bring the ball when they dropped it in their game. So Saturday came, and both were rather the worst for so much idleness, since daily duties and studies are the wholesome bread which feeds the mind better than the dispeptic plum cake of sensational reading or the unsubstantial bonbons of frivolous amusement. It was a stormy day, so they had few collars and devoted themselves to arranging the album. For these books were all the rage just then, and boys meant to compare, discuss, buy, sell, and swap stamps with as much interest as men on change gamble in stocks. Jack had a nice little collection, and had been saving up pocket money to buy a book in which to preserve his treasures. Now, thanks to Jill's timely suggestion, Frank had given him a fine one, and several friends had contributed a number of rare stamps to grace the large inviting pages. Jill wielded the gum brush and fitted on the little flaps, as her fingers were skillful at this nice work, and Jack put each stamp in its proper place with great rustling of leaves and comparing of marks. Returning after a brief absence, Mrs. Minot beheld the fecoutances of the workers adorned with gay stamps, giving them a very curious appearance. My dears, what new play have you got now? Are you wild Indians or letters that have gone round the world before finding the right address? she asked, laughing at the ridiculous sight. For both were as sober as judges, and deeply absorbed in some doubtful specimen. Oh, we just stuck them there to keep them safe. They get lost if we leave them lying round. It's very handy. For I can see in a minute the right chap at once answered Jack, adding with an anxious gaze at his friend's variegated countenance, where are the dickens as my new Grenada? It's rare, and I wouldn't lose it for a dollar. Why there it is on your own nose, don't you remember you put it there? Because you said mine was not big enough to hold it? Laugh Jill, tweaking a large orange square off the round nose of her neighbor, causing it to wrinkle up in a droll way. As the gum made the operation slightly painful. So I did, and gave you little boulevard on yours. Now I'll have Alcissé and Lorraine 1870. There are seven of them, so hold still, dear, and see how you like it, return Jack, picking the large pale stamps one by one from Jill's forehead, which they crossed like a band. She bore it without flinching, saying to herself with a secret smile, as she glanced at the hot fire which scorched her if she kept near enough to Jack to help him. This really is being like a missionary, with a tattooed savage to look after. I have to suffer a little, as the good folks did who got speared and roasted sometimes. But I won't complain a bit, though my forehead's smarts, my arms are tired, and one cheek is as red as fire. The Roman states make a handsome page, don't they? asked Jack, little dreaming of the part he was playing in Jill's mind. Oh, I say, isn't Korea a beauty? I'm ever so proud of that. And he gazed fondly on a big blue stamp, the sole ornament of one page. I don't see why the Cape of Good Hope has pyramids. They ought to go in Egypt. The Sandwich Islands are all right, with the heads of the Black Kings and Queens on them, said Jill, feeling that they were very appropriate to her private play. Turkey has crescents, Australia swans, and Spain, women's heads, with black bars across them. Frank says it's because they keep women shut up so. But that was only his fun. I'd rather have a good, honest, green United States with Washington on it, or a blue one-center with old Franklin, than all their eagles and lions and kings and queens put together, added the democratic boy, with a disrespectful slap on a crowned head as he settled Healy-go-land in its place. Why does Austria have mercury on the stamp, I wonder? Do they wear helmets like that, asked Jill, with the brush handle in her mouth as she cut a fresh batch of flaps? Maybe he was postman to the gods, so he has put on stamps now. The Prussians wear helmets, but they have spikes like the old Roman fellows. I like Prussians ever so much. They fight splendidly and always beat. Austrians have a handsome uniform, though. Talking of Romans reminds me that I have not heard your Latin for two days. Come, lazybones, brace up and let us have it now. I've done my compo and shall have just time before I go out for a tramp with Gus, said Frank, putting by a neat page to dry, for he studied every day like a conscientious lad as he was. Don't know it. Not going to try till next week. Grind away over your old Greek as much as you like, but don't bother me, answered Jack, frowning at the mere thought of the detested lesson. But Frank adored his xenophone, and would not see his old friend Caesar neglected without an effort to defend him. So he confiscated the gun-pot and effectually stopped the stamp business by whisking away at one fell swoop all that lay on Jill's table. Now then, young man, you will quit this sort of nonsense and do your lesson, or you won't see these fellows again in a hurry. You ask me to hear you, and I'm going to do it. Here's the book. Frank's tone was the dictatorial one which Jack hated, and always found hard to obey, especially when he knew he ought to do it. Usually, when his patience was tried, he strode about the room, or ran off for a race around the garden, coming back breathless but good-tempered. Now both these vents for irritation were denied him, and he had fallen into the way of throwing things about in a pet. He longed to send Caesar to perpetual banishment in the fire blazing close by, but resisted the temptation, and answered honestly, though gruffly, I know I did, but I don't see any use in pouncing on a fellow when he isn't ready. I haven't gotten my lesson, and don't mean to worry about it, so you may just give me back my things and go about your business. I'll give you back a stamp for every perfect lesson you get, and you won't see them on any other terms. And thrusting the treasures into his pocket, Frank caught up his rubber boots, and went off swinging them like a pair of clubs, feeling that he would give a trifle to be able to use them on his lazy brother. At this high-handed proceeding, and the threat which accompanied it, Jack's patience gave out, and catching up Caesar, as he thought, sent him flying after the retreating tyrant with the defiant declaration. Keep them then in your old book, too. I won't look at it till you give all my stamps back and say you are sorry. So now. He was all over before Mama could interfere, or Jill knew more than clutch and cling to the gun-brush. Frank vanished unharmed, but the poor book dashed against the wall, to fall half-open on the floor. Its gay cover loosened, and its smooth pages crushed by the blow. It's the album! Oh, Jack, how could you, cried Jill, dismayed at the sight of the precious book, so maltreated by the owner? Thought it was the other. Guess it isn't hurt much. Didn't mean to hit him, anyway. He does provoke me so, muttered Jack, very red and shame-faced, as his mother picked up the book and laid it silently on the table before him. He did not know what to do with himself, and was thankful for the stamp still left him, finding great relief in making faces as he plucked them one by one from his mortified countenance. Jill looked on, half-glad, half-sorry, that her savage showed such signs of unconverted ferocity. And Mrs. Minot went on writing letters, wearing the grave-look her sons found harder to bear than another person's scolding. No one spoke for a moment, and the silence was becoming awkward when Gus appeared in a rubber suit, bringing a book to Jack from Laura and a note to Jill from Lottie. Look here, you just trundle me into my den, please, I'm going to have a nap. It's so dull today, I don't feel like doing much, said Jack, when Gus had done his errands, trying to look as if he knew nothing about the fruckus. Jack folded his arms and departed like a warrior, born from the battlefield, to be chaffed unmercifully for a pepper-pot, while Gus made him comfortable in his own room. I heard once of a boy who threw a fork at his brother and put his eye out, but he didn't mean to. And the brother forgave him, and he never did so any more, observed Jill in a pensive mood, wishing to show that she felt all the dangers of impatience, but was sorry for the culprit. Did the boy ever forgive himself, asked Mrs. Minot? No, I suppose not. But Jack didn't hit Frank, and feels real sorry, I know. He might have, and hurt him very much. Our actions are in our own hands, but the consequences of them are not. Do that, my dear, and think twice before you do anything. Yes, I may wills, and Jill composed herself to consider what missionaries usually did when the natives hurled tomahawks and boomerangs at one another, and defied the rulers of the land. Mrs. Minot wrote one page of a new letter, then stopped, pushed her papers about, thought a little, and finally got up, saying, as if she found it impossible to resist the yearning of her heart for the naughty boy. I'm going to see if Jack is covered up. He is so helpless, and liable to take cold. Don't stir till I come back. Know him I won't. Away went the tender parent to find her son studying Caesar for dear life and all the more amiable for the little gust which had blown away the temporary irritability. The brothers were often called thunder and lightning, because Frank lowered and growled and was a good while clearing up, while Jack's temper came and went like a flash, and the air was all the clearer for the escape of dangerous electricity. Of course Mama had to stop and deliver a little lecture illustrated by sad tales of petulant boys, and punctuated with kisses which took off the edge of these afflicting narratives. Jill meantime meditated morally on the superiority of her own good temper over the hasty one of her dear playmate, and just when she was feeling unusually uplifted and secure, alas like so many of us she fell in the most deplorable manner. Glancing across the room for something to do, she saw a sheet of paper lying exactly out of reach where it had fluttered from the table unperceived. At first her eye rested on it as carelessly as it did on the stray stamp Frank had dropped. Then as if one thing suggested the other, she took it into her head that the paper was Frank's composition. Or better still, a note to a net, for the two corresponded when absence or weather prevented the daily meeting at school. Wouldn't it be fun to keep it till it gives back Jack's stamps? It would plague him so if it was a note, and I do believe it is for compos don't begin with two words on one side. I'll get it, and Jack and I will plan some way to pay him off, cross thing. Forgetting her promise not to stir also how dishonorable it was to read other people's letters. Jill caught up the long-handled hook often in use now and tried to pull the paper nearer. It would not come at once for a seam in the carpet held it, and Jill feared to tear or crumple it if she was not very careful. The hook was rather heavy and long for her to manage, and Jack usually did the fishing. So she was not very skillful, and just as she was giving a particularly quick jerk, she lost her balance, fell off the sofa, and dropped a pole with a bang. Oh, my back was all she could think or say as she felt the jar all through her little body, and a corresponding fear in her guilty little mind that someone would come and find out the double mischief she had been at. For a moment she lay quite still to recover from the shock. Then as the pain passed she began to wonder how she should get back, and looked about her to see if she could do it alone. She thought she could as the sofa was near and she had improved so much that she could sit up a little if the doctor would have let her. She was gathering herself together for the effort when within arms reach now she saw the tempting paper and seized it with glee. For in spite of her predicament she did want to tease Frank. A glance showed that it was not the composition nor a note, but the beginning of a letter from Mrs. Minot to her sister, and Jill was about to lay it down when her own name caught her eye, and she could not resist reading it. Hard words to write of one so young. Really hard to read and impossible to forget. Dear Lizzie, Jack continues to do very well and will soon be up again, but we begin to fear that the little girl is permanently injured in the back. She is here and we do our best for her, but I never look at her without thinking of Lucinda Snow, who, you remember, was bedridden for twenty years owing to a fall at fifteen. Poor little Janey does not know yet, and I hope. There it ended, and poor little Janey's punishment for disobedience began that instant. She thought she was getting well because she did not suffer all the time, and everyone spoke cheerfully about by and by. Now she knew the truth, and shut her eyes with a shiver as she said low to herself. Twenty years! I couldn't bear it! Oh, I couldn't bear it! A very miserable Jill lay on the floor, and for a while did not care who came and found her. Then the last words of the letter I hope seemed to shine across the blackness of the dreadful twenty years, and cheer her up a bit. For despair never lives long in young hearts, and Jill was a brave child. That is why Mammy sighs so when she dresses me, and everyone is so good to me. Perhaps Mrs. Minot doesn't really know after all. She was dreadfully scared about Jack, and he is getting well. I'd like to ask Doctor, but he might find out about the letter. Oh, dear, why didn't I just keep still and let the horrid thing alone? As she thought that, Jill pushed the paper away, pulled herself up, and with much painful effort managed to get back to her sofa, where she laid herself down with a groan, feeling as if the twenty years had already passed over her since she tumbled off. I've told a lie, for I said I wouldn't stir. I've hurt my back. I've done a mean thing, and I've got paid for it. A nice missionary I am. I'd better begin at home as Mammy told me to, and Jill groaned again remembering her mother's words. Now I've got another secret to keep all alone, for I'd be ashamed to tell the girls. I guess I'll turn round and study my spelling, then no one will see my face. Jill looked the picture of a good industrious child as she lay with her back to the large table. Her book held so that nothing was to be seen but one cheek, and a pair of lips moving busily. Fortunately it is difficult for little sinners to act apart, and even if the face is hidden something in the body seems to betray the internal remorse and shame. Usually Jill lay flat and still. Now her back was bent in a peculiar way as she leaned over her book, and one foot wagged nervously while on the visible cheek was a Spanish stamp with a woman's face looking through the black bars, very suggestively if she had known it. How long the minute seemed until someone came, and what a queer little jump her heart gave when Mrs. Minot's voice said cheerfully, Jack is all right, and I declare so is Jill. I really believe there is a telegraph still working somewhere between you two, and each knows what the other is about without words. I didn't have any other book handy, so I thought I'd study a while, answered Jill, feeling that she deserved no praise for her seeming industry. She cast a side-long glance as she spoke, and seeing that Mrs. Minot was looking for the letter, hid her face and lay so still, she could hear the rustle of the paper as it was taken from the floor. It was well she did not also see the quick look the lady gave her as she turned the letter, and found a red stamp sticking to the underside, for this unlucky little witness told the story. Mrs. Minot remembered having seen the stamp lying close to the sofa when she left the room, for she had had half a mind to take it to Jack, but did not, thinking Frank's plan had some advantages. She also recollected that a paper flew off the table, but being in haste she had not stopped to see what it was. Now the stamp and the letter could hardly have come together without hands, for they lay a yard apart, and here also on the unwritten portion of the page was a mark of a small green thumb. Jill had been winding wool for a stripe in her new afghan, and the green ball lay on her sofa. These signs suggested and confirmed what Mrs. Minot did not want to believe. So did the voice, attitude, and air of Jill, all very unlike her usual open alert ways. The kind lady could easily forgive the reading of her letter since the girl had found such sad news there. But the dangers of disobedience were serious in her case, and a glance showed that she was suffering either in mind or body, perhaps both. I will wait for her to tell me, she is an honest child, and the truth will soon come out, thought Mrs. Minot, as she took a clean sheet, and Jill tried to study. Shall I hear your lesson, dear? Jack means to recite his like a good boy, so suppose you follow his example, she said presently. I don't know as I can say it, but I'll try. Jill did try, and got on bravely till she came to the word Permanent. There she hesitated, remembering where she saw it last. Do you know what that means, asked her teacher, thinking to help her on by defining the word? Always? For a great while or something like that, doesn't it? Faulted Jill with a tight feeling in her throat, and the color coming up as she tried to speak easily, yet felt so shame-stricken she could not. Are you in pain, my child? Never mind the lesson, tell me and I'll do something for you. The kind words, the soft hand on her hot cheek, and the pity in the eyes it looked at her were too much for Jill. A sob came first and then the truth, told with hidden face and tears that washed the blush away, and set free the honest little soul that could not hide its faults from such a friend. I knew it all before, and was sure you would tell me, else you would not be the child I love and like to help so well. Then while she soothed Jill's trouble, Mrs. Minot told her story, and showed the letter wishing to lessen, if possible some part of the pain it had given. Sly old stamp, to go and tell on me when I meant to own up and get some credit if I could, after being so mean and bad, said Jill, smiling through her tears, when she saw the tell-tale witnesses against her. You had better stick it in your book to remind you of the bad consequences of disobedience. Then perhaps this lesson will leave a permanent impression on your mind and memory, answered Mrs. Minot, glad to see her natural gaiety coming back, and hoping that she had forgotten the contents of the unfortunate letter. But she had not. And presently when the sad affair had been talked over and forgiven Jill asked slowly as she tried to put on a brave look. Please tell me about Lucinda Snow. If I am to be like her, I might as well know how she managed to bear it so long. I'm sorry you ever heard of her, and yet perhaps it may help you to bear your trial, dear, which I hope will never be as heavy a one as hers. This Lucinda I knew for years, and though at first I thought her fate the saddest that could be, I came at last to see how happy she was in spite of her affliction, how good and useful and beloved. Why, how could she be? What did she do, cried Jill, for getting her own troubles to look up with an open, eager face again. She was so patient other people were ashamed to complain of their small worries, so cheerful that her own great one grew lighter, so industrious that she made both money and friends by pretty things she worked, and sold to her many visitors, and best of all so wise and sweet that she seemed to get good out of everything, and made her poor room a sort of chapel where people went for comfort, counsel, and an example of a pious life. So you see, Lucinda was not so very miserable after all. Well if I could not be as I was I'd like to be a woman like that, only I hope I shall not answer Jill thoughtfully at first. Then coming out so decidedly with the last words that it was evident the life of a bedridden saint was not at all to her mind. So do I, and I mean to believe that you will not. Meantime we can try to make the waiting as useful and pleasant as possible. This painful little back will be a sort of conscience to remind you of what you ought to do and leave undone, and so you can be learning obedience. Then when the body is strong it will have formed a good habit to make duty easier, and my Lucinda can be a sweet example even while lying here if she chooses. Can I? And Jill's eyes were full of softer tears as the comfortable cheering words sank into her heart, to blossom slowly by and by into her life, for this was to be a long lesson, hard to learn, but very useful in the years to come. When the boys returned after the Latin was recited in peace restored. Jack showed her a recovered stamp promptly paid by Frank, who was as just as he was severe, and Jill asked for the old red one, though she did not tell why she wanted it, nor show it put away in the spelling book, a little seal upon a promise made to be kept. End of Chapter 8 of Jack and Jill Now let us see how the other missionaries got on with their tasks. Farmer Grant was a thrifty, well-to-do man, anxious to give his children greater advantages than he had enjoyed, and to improve the fine place of which he was justly proud. Mrs. Grant was a notable housewife, as ambitious and industrious as her husband, but too busy to spend any time on the elegancies of life, though always ready to help the poor and sick like a good neighbor, and Christian woman. The three sons, Tom, Dick, and Harry, were big fellows of 17, 19, and 21, the first two on the farm and the elder in a store just setting up for himself. Kind-hearted but rough-mannered youths who loved Mary very much, but teased her sadly about her fine lady heirs as they called her dainty ways and love of beauty. Mary was a thoughtful girl, full of innocent fancies, refined tastes, and romantic dreams, in which no one sympathized at home, though she was the pet of the family. It did seem to an outsider as if the delicate little creature had got there by mistake, for she looked very much like a tea-rose in a field of clover and dandelions, whose highest aim in life was to feed cows and make root beer. When the girls talked over the new society, it pleased Mary very much, and she decided not only to try and love work better, but to convert her family to a liking for pretty things, as she called her own more cultivated tastes. I will begin at once and show them I don't mean to shirk my duty, though I do want to be nice, thought she, as she sat at supper one night and looked about her planning her first move. Not a very cheerful prospect for a lover of the beautiful, certainly, for the big kitchen, though as neat as wax, had nothing lovely in it, except a red geranium blooming at the window. Nor were the people all that could be desired, in some respects, as they sat about the table shoveling in pork and beans with their knives, drinking tea from their saucers, and laughing out with their hearty, ha-ha, when anything amused them. Yet the boys were handsome, strong specimens, the farmer a hail, benevolent-looking man, the housewife a pleasant, sharp-eyed matron, who seemed to find comfort in looking often at the bright face at her elbow, with the broad forehead, clear eyes, sweet mouth, and quiet voice that came like music in among the loud masculine ones, or the quick nervous tones of a woman always in a hurry. Mary's face was so thoughtful that evening that her father observed it, for, when at home, he watched her as one watches a kitten, glad to see anything so pretty, young, and happy at its play. Little daughter has got something on her mind, I mistrust. Come and tell father all about it, he said, with a sounding slap on his broad knee, as he turned his chair from the table to the ugly stove, where three pairs of wet boots steamed underneath and a great kettle of cider applesauce simmered above. When I've helped clear up, I'll come and talk. Now, mother, you sit down and rest. Roxy and I can do everything, answered Mary, patting the old rocking chair so invitingly that the tired woman could not resist, especially as watching the kettle gave her an excuse for obeying. Well, I don't care if I do, for I've been on my feet since five o'clock. Be sure you cover things up and shut the buttery door, and put the cat down cellar and sift your meal. I'll see to the buck week's last thing before I go to bed. Mrs. Grant subsided with her knitting, for her hands were never idle. Tom tilted his chair back against the wall and picked his teeth with his penknife. Dick got out a little pot of grease to make the boots watertight, and Harry sat down at the small table to look over his accounts with an important air, for everyone occupied this room, and the work was done in the out kitchen behind. Mary hated clearing up, but dutifully did every distasteful task, and kept her eye on careless Roxy till all was in order. Then she gladly went to perch on her father's knee, seeing in all the faces about her the silent welcome they always wore for the little one. Yes, I do want something, but I know you will say it is silly, she's began, as her father pinched her blooming cheek, with the wish that his peaches would ever look half as well. Shouldn't wonder if it was a doll now, and Mr. Grant stroked her head with an indulgent smile, as if she were about six instead of fifteen. Why, father, you know I don't, I haven't played with dollies for years and years. No, I want to fix up my room pretty like Jill's. I'll do it all myself, and only want a few things, for I don't expect it to look as nice as hers. Indignation gave Mary courage to state her wishes boldly, though she knew the boys would laugh. They did, and her mother said in a tone of surprise, Why, child, what more can you want? I'm sure your room is always as neat as a new pin, thanks to your bringing up, and I told you to have a fire there whenever you wanted to. Let me have some of the old things out of the garret, and I'll show you what I want. It is neat, but so bare and ugly I hate to be there. I do so love something pretty to look at. And Mary gave a little shiver of disgust as she turned her eyes away from the large greasy boot Dick was holding up to be sure. It was well lubricated all around. So do I, and that's a fact. I couldn't get on without my pretty girl here, anyway. Why she touches up the old place better than a dozen flowerpots in full blow, said the farmer, as his eye went from the scarlet geranium to the bright young face so near his own. I wish I had a dozen in the sitting-room window. Mother says they are not tidy, but I'd keep them neat, and I know you'd like it, broken Mary, glad of the chance to get one of the long-desired wishes of her heart fulfilled. I'll fetch you some next time I go over to Ballard's. Tell me what you want, and we'll have a posy bed somewhere around, see if we don't, said her father dimly understanding what she wanted. Now if Mother says I may fix my room, I shall be satisfied, and I'll do my chores without a bit of fuss to show how grateful I am, said the girl, thanking her father with a kiss, and smiling at her mother so wistfully that the good woman could not refuse. You may have anything you like out of the blue chest. There's a lot of things there that the moths got out after grandma died, and I couldn't bear to throw or give them away. Come up your room as you like, and mind you don't forget your part of the bargain, answered Mrs. Grant, seeing profit in the plan. I won't. I'll work all the morning, tomorrow, and in the afternoon I'll get ready to show you what I call a nice, pretty room, answered Mary, looking so pleased it seemed as if another flower had blossomed in a large, bare kitchen. She kept her word, and the very stormy afternoon when Jill got into trouble, Mary was working busily at her little bower. In the blue chest she found a variety of treasures, and ignoring the moth-holes used them to the best advantage, trying to imitate the simple comfort with a touch of elegance which prevailed in Mrs. Minow's back bedroom. Three faded red marine curtains went up at the windows over the chilly paper shades, giving a pleasant glow to the bare walls. A red quilt with white stars, rather the worst for many crossings, covered the bed, and a gay cloth on the table, where a judicious arrangement of books and baskets concealed the spots. The little airtight stove was banished, and a pair of ancient and irons shown in the fire-light. Grandma's last and largest braided rug lay on the hearth, and her brass candlesticks adorned the bureau over the mirror of which was festooned a white muslin skirt, tied up with Mary's red sash. This piece of elegance gave the last touch to her room, she thought, and she was very proud of it, setting forth all her small store of trinkets in a large shell with an empty scent-bottle, and a clean tidy over-the-pin cushion. On the walls she hung three old-fashioned pictures which she ventured to borrow from the garret till better could be found. One a morning-piece, with a very tall lady weeping on an urn in a grove of willows, and two small boys and knee-bridges and funny little square tails to their coats, looking like cherubs in large frills. The other was as good as a bonfire, being an eruption of Vesuvius and very lurid indeed, for the Bay of Naples was boiling like a pot, the red sky reigning rocks, and a few distracted people lying flat on the shore. The third was a really pretty scene of children dancing round a maypole, for though nearly a hundred years old the little maids smiled and the boys pranced as gaily as if the flowers they carried were still alive and sweet. Now I'll call them all to see and say that it is pretty. Then I'll enjoy it and come here when things look dismal and bear everywhere else, said Mary, when at last it was done. She had worked all the afternoon, and only finished at supper time, so the candles had to be lighted that the toilette might look its best, and impressed the beholers with an idea of true elegance. Unfortunately the fire smoked a little, and a window was set a jar to clear the room. An evil-disposed gust blew in, wafting the thin drapery within reach of the light, and when Mary threw open the door proudly thinking to display her success she was horrified to find the room in a blaze and half her labor all in vain. The conflagration was over in a minute, however, for the boys tore down the muslin and stamped out the fire with much laughter, while Mrs. Grant bewailed the damage to her carpet, and poor Mary took refuge in her father's arms, refusing to be comforted in spite of his kind commendation of grandma's fixings. The third little missionary had the hardest time of all, and her first efforts were not much more satisfactory nor successful than the others. Her father was away from morning till night, and then had his paper to read, books to keep, or a man to see downtown, so that after a hasty word at tea he saw no more of the children till another evening as they were seldom up at his early breakfast. He thought they were well taken care of, for Miss Bathsheba Dawes was an energetic middle-aged spinster when she came into the family, and had been there fifteen years, so he did not observe what a woman would have seen at once, that Miss Bath was getting old and careless, and everything about the house was at sixes and sevens. She took good care of him, and thought she had done her duty if she got three comfortable meals, nursed the children when they were ill, and saw that the house did not burn up. So Maria Louisa and Napoleon Bonaparte gone on as they could, without the tender cares of a mother. She had been a happy-go-lucky child, contended with her pets, her freedom, and little boo to love. But now she was just beginning to see that they were not like other children, and to feel ashamed of it. Papa is busy, but Miss Bath ought to see to us. She has paid for it, and goodness knows she has an easy time now. For if I ask her to do anything she groans over her bones and tells me young folks should wait on themselves. I take all the care of boo off her hands, but I can't wash my own things, and he has a decent trouser to his blessed little legs. I tell Papa, but it wouldn't do any good. He'd only say yes, child, yes, I'll attend to it, and never do a thing. This used to be Molly's lament, when some especially trying event occurred, and if the girls were not there to condole with her. She would retire to the shed-chamber, call her nine cats about her, and sitting in the old bushel basket pull her hair about her ears, and scold all alone. The cats learned to understand this habit, and nobly did their best to dispel the gloom which now and then obscured the sunshine of their little mistress. Some of them would creep into her lap and purr till the comfortable sound soothed her irritation. The sedate elders sat at her feet blinking with such wise and sympathetic faces that she felt as if half a dozen solomons were giving her the sagest advice, while the kittens frisked about, cutting up their drollest capers till she laughed in spite of herself. When the laugh came, the worst of the fit was over, and she soon cheered up dismissing the consolers with the pat all round, a feast of good things for Miss Bats Larder, and the usual speech, well, dears, it's of no use to worry, I guess we shall get along somehow if we don't fret. This witch-wise resolution Molly would leave her retreat and freshen up her spirits by a row on the river or a romp with boo, which always finished the case. Now however she was bound to try the new plan and do something toward reforming, not only the boy's condition, but the disorder and discomfort of home. I'll play it, is Siam, and this the house of a native, and I'm to come show the folks how to live nicely. Miss Bats won't know what to make of it, and I can't tell her, so I shall get some fun out of it, anyway, thought Molly, as she surveyed the dining-room the day her mission began. The prospect was not cheering, and if the natives of Siam live in such confusion it is high time they were attended to. The breakfast-table still stood as it was left with slops of coffee on the cloth, bits of bread, eggshells and potato-skins lay about, and one lonely sausage was cast away in the middle of a large platter. The furniture was dusty, stove untidy, and the carpet looked as if crumbs had been scattered to chickens who declined their breakfast. Boo was sitting on the sofa with his arm through a hole in the cover, hunting for some lost treasure put away there for safe keeping, like a little magpie as he was. Molly fancied she washed and dressed him well enough, but to-day she seemed to see more clearly, and sighed as she thought of the hard job in store for her, if she gave him the thorough washing he needed, and combed out that curly mop of hair. I'll clear up first and do that by and by, I ought to have a nice little tub and good towels like Mrs. Minot, and I will too if I buy them myself, she said, piling up cups with an energy that threatened destruction to handles. Miss Bat, who was trailing about the kitchen with her head pinned up in a little plaid shawl, was so surprised by the demand for a pan of hot water and four clean towels that she nearly dropped her snuff box, chief comfort of her lazy soul. What new whimsy now? Generally the dishes stand round till I have time to pick them up, and you are off coasting or careering somewhere. Well, this tidy fit won't last long, so I may as well make the most of it, said Miss Bat, as she handed out the required articles, and then pushed her spectacles from the tip of her sharp nose to her sharper black eyes for a good look at the girl, who stood primly before her, with a clean apron on and her hair braided up instead of flying wildly about her shoulders. Oomph! was all the comment that Miss Bat made on this unusual neatness, and she went on scraping her sauce-pans while Molly returned to her work, very well pleased with the effect of her first step, for she felt that the bewilderment of Miss Bat would be a constant inspiration to fresh efforts. An hour of hard work produced an agreeable change in the abode of the native, for the table was cleared, room swept and dusted, fire brightened, and the holes in the sofa-covering were pinned up, till time could be found to mend them. To be sure, rolls of lint lay in corners, smears of ashes were on the stove-hearth, and dust still lurked on chair-rounds and table-legs. But too much must not be expected of a new convert. So the young missionary sat down to rest, well pleased and ready for another attempt, as soon as she could decide in which direction it should be made. She quailed before Boo as she looked at the unconscious innocent peacefully playing with the spotted dog, now bereft of his tail, and the lone sausage with which he was attempting to feed the hungry animal, whose red mouth always gaped for more. It will be an awful job, and he is so happy I won't plague him yet. Guess I'll go and put my room to rights first, and pick up some clean clothes to put on him. If he is alive after I get through with him, thought Molly, for seeing a stormy passage for the boy, who hated a bath as much as some people hate a trip across the Atlantic. Up she went, and finding the fire-out felt discouraged, thought she would rest a little more, so retired under the blankets to read one of the Christmas books. The dinner bell rang while she was still wandering happily in Nellie's silver mine, and she ran down to find that Boo had laid out a railroad all across her neat room, using bits of coal for sleepers and books for rails, over which he was dragging the yellow sled laden with a dismayed kitten, the tailless dog and the remains of the sausage, evidently on its way to the tomb. For Boo took bites at it now and then, no other lunch being offered him. Oh, dear! Why can't boys play without making such a mess? sighed Molly, picking up the feathers from the duster from which Boo had been trying to make a cocky-do of the hapless dog. I'll wash him right after dinner, and that will keep him at a mischief for a while. She thought, as the young engineer unsuspiciously proceeded to ornament his already crocky countenance with squash, cranberry sauce, and gravy, till he looked more like a Fiji chief in full war-paint than a Christian boy. I want two pails of hot water, please, Miss Spatt, and the big tub, said Molly, as the ancient handmaid emptied her fourth cup of tea, for she dined with the family and enjoyed her own good cooking in its prime. What are you going to wash now? Boo! I'm sure he needs it enough, and Molly cannot help laughing as the victim added to his brilliant appearance by smearing the colors altogether with a rub of two grimy hands, making a fine turner of himself. Now Maria Louise Bemis, you ain't going to cut up no capers with that child, the idea of a hot bath in the middle of the day, and him full of dinner, and croopy into the bargain. Wet a corner of a towel at the kettle-spout and polish him off if you like, but you won't risk his life in no bath tubs this cold day. Miss Spatt's word was law in some things, so Molly had to submit, and took Boo away saying loftily as she left the room. I shall ask Father and do it to-night, for I will not have my brother look like a pig. My patience, how the Simeys do leave their things round, she exclaimed, as she surveyed her room after making up the fire and polishing off Boo, I'll put things in order and then mend up my rags, if I can find my thimble. Now let me see. And she went to exploring her closet, bureau and table, finding such disorder everywhere that her courage nearly gave out. She had clothes enough, but all needed care, even her best dress had two buttons off, and her Sunday hat but one string. Shoes, skirts, books and toys lay about, and her drawers were a perfect chaos of soiled ruffles, odd gloves, old ribbons, boot lacings, and bits of paper. Oh, my heart, what a muddle, Mrs. Minot wouldn't think much of me if she could see that, said Molly, recalling how that lady once said she could judge a good deal of a little girl's character and habits by a peep at her top drawer, and went on with great success to guess how each of the schoolmates kept her drawers. Some missionary clear up and don't let me find such a glory hole again, or I'll report you to the society, said Molly, tipping the whole drawer full out on upon the bed, and beguiling the tiresome job by keeping up the new play. Twilight came before it was done, and a great pile of things loomed up on her table, with no visible means of repair. For Molly's workbasket was full of nuts, and her thimble down a hole in the shed floor, where the cats had dropped it in their play. I'll ask Bat for hooks and tape, and Papa for some money to buy scissors and things, for I don't know where mine are. Glad I can't do any more now. Being neat is such hard work. And Molly threw herself down on the rug beside the old wooden cradle in which Boo was blissfully rocking, with a cargo of toys aboard. She watched her time, and as soon as her father had done supper, she hastened to say before he got to his desk, Please, Papa, I want a dollar to get some brass buttons and things to fix Boo's clothes with. He wore a hole in his new trousers, coasting down the kembols' steps, and can't I wash him? He needs it, and Miss Bat won't let me have a tub. Certainly, child, certainly do what you like, only don't keep me. Just be off, or I shall miss Jackson, and he's the man I want. And throwing down two dollars instead of one. Mr. Beemus hurried away with a vague impression that Boo had swallowed a dozen brass buttons, and Miss Bat had been coasting somewhere in a bath-pan. But catching Jackson it was important, so he did not stop to investigate. Armed with paternal permission, Molly carried her point, and oh what a dreadful evening poor Boo spent. First he was decoyed upstairs an hour too soon, then put in a tub by main force and sternly scrubbed, in spite of shrieks, that brought Miss Bat to the locked door to condole with the sufferer, scold the scrubber, and depart darkly prophesying croop before morning. He always hails when he is washed, but I shall do it since you won't, and he must get used to it. I will not have people tell me he's neglected if I can help it, cried Molly, working away with tears in her eyes, for it was as hard for her as for Boo. But she meant to be thorough for once in her life, no matter what happened. When the worst was over she coaxed him with candy and stories till the long task of combing out the curls was safely done. Then in the clean nightgown with a blue button newly sold on, she laid him in bed worn out but sweet as a rose. Now say your prayers, darling, and go to sleep with a nice red blanket all tucked round you so you won't get cold, said Molly, rather doubtful of the effect of the wet head. No, I won't, going to sleep now! And Boo shut his eyes wearily, feeling that his late trials had not left him in a prayerful mood. Then you'll be a real little heathen as Mrs. Peck called you, and I don't know what I shall do with you, said Molly, longing to cuddle rather than scold the little fellow, whose soul needed looking after as well as his body. No, no, I won't be a heathen. I don't want to be frode to the trochkindiles. I will say my prayers. Oh, I will! And rising in his bed Boo did so with the devotion of an infant Samuel, for he remembered the talk when the society was formed. Molly thought her labours were over for that night, and soon went to bed, tired with her first attempts. But toward morning she was wakened by the hoarse breathing of the boy, and was forced to pat her away to Miss Batt's room, humbly asking for the squills, and confessing that prophecy had come to pass. I knew it. Bring the child to me, and don't fret, I'll see to him. And next time you do as I say, was the consoling welcome she received, as the old lady popped up a sleepy but anxious face in a large flannel cap, and shook the bottle with the air of a general who had routed the foe before and meant to do it again. Leaving her little responsibility in Miss Batt's arms, Molly retired to her wet her pillow with a few remorseful tears, and to fall asleep wondering if real missionaries ever killed their pupils in the process of conversion. So the girls all failed in the beginning, but they did not give up, and succeeded better next time, as we shall see. End of Chapter 8 Chapter 9 of Jack and Jill This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Mary Anderson Jack and Jill by Louisa May Alcott Chapter 9 The Debating Club Look here, old man, we ought to have a meeting. Holidays are over, and we must brace up and attend to business, said Frank, to Gus, as they strolled out of the schoolyard one afternoon in January. Apparently absorbed in conversation, but in reality waiting for a blue cloud and a scarlet feather to appear on the steps. All right, when, where, and what, asked Gus, who was a man of few words. Tonight, our house, subject, shall girls go to college with us. Mother said we had better be making up our minds, because everyone is talking about it, and we shall have to be on one side or the other. So we may as well settle it now, answered Frank, for there was an impression among the members that all vexed questions must be much helped by the united eloquence and wisdom of the club. Very good, I'll pass the word and be there. Hello, Nettie. The D.C. meets tonight at Minnows, Seven Sharp, Coed, and etc., added Gus, losing no time as a third boy came briskly round the corner with a little bag in his hand. I'll come, got home an hour earlier to-night, and thought I'd look you up as I went by, responded Ed Devlin, as he took possession of the third post, with a glance toward the school-house to see if a seal-skin cap with a long yellow braid, depending therefrom, was anywhere in sight. Very good of you, I'm sure, said Gus, ironically, not a bit deceived by this polite attention. The longest way round is sometimes the shortest way home, hey Ed! And Frank gave him a playful poke that nearly sent him off his perch. Then they all laughed at some joke of their own, and Gus added, No girls coming to hear us tonight, don't think it, my son. Moore is the pity, and Ed shook his head regretfully over the downfall of his hopes. Can't help it, the other fellows say they spoil the fun, so we have to give in sometimes for the sake of peace and quietness. Don't mind having them a bit myself, said Frank, in such a tone of cheerful resignation that they laughed again, for the triangle, as the three chums were called, always made merry music. We must have a game-party next week, the girls like that, and so do I candidly observed Gus, whose pleasant parlors were the scene of many such frolics. And so do your sisters and your cousins and your aunts, hummed Ed, for Gus was often called admiral because he really did possess three sisters, two cousins, and four aunts, besides mother and grandmother, all living in the big house together. The boys promptly joined in the popular chorus, and other voices all about the yard took it up. For the Pinafore epidemic raged fearfully in Harmony Village that winter. House Business asked Gus, when the song ended, for Ed had not returned to school in the autumn, but had gone into a store in the city. Dull, things will look up toward spring, they say. I get on well enough, but I miss you fellows dreadfully. And Ed put a hand on the broad shoulder of each friend, as if he longed to be a schoolboy again. Better give it up and go to college with me next year, said Frank, who was preparing for Boston University, while Gus fitted for Harvard. No, I've chosen business, and I mean to stick to it, so don't you unsettle my mind. Have you practiced that, March? asked Ed, turning to a gayer subject, for he had his little troubles, but always looked on the bright side of things. Skating is so good I don't get much time. Come early, and we'll have a turn at it. I will. Must run home now. Pretty cold loafing here. Mail is in by this time. And with these artless excuses the three boys leaped off the posts, as if one spring moved them, as a group of girls came chattering down the path. The blue cloud floated away beside Frank. The scarlet feather marched off with the admiral, while the fur cap nodded to the gray hat as two happy faces smiled at each other. The same thing often happened. For twice a day the streets were full of young couples walking to and from school together. Smiled up by the elders and laughed at by the less susceptible boys and girls who went alone or trooped along in noisy groups. The prudent mothers had tried to stop this guile as custom, but found it very difficult, as the fathers usually sympathized with their sons and dismissed the matter with the comfortable phrase, never mind boys will be boys. Not forever returned the anxious mamas, seeing the tall lads daily grow more manly, and the pretty daughters fast learning to look demure when certain names were mentioned. It could not be stopped without great parental sternness and the danger of deceit, for co-education will go on outside of school if not inside, and the safest way is to let sentiment and study go hand in hand. With teachers and parents to direct and explain the great lesson all are the better for learning soon or late. So the elders had to give in, acknowledging that this sudden readiness to go to school was a comfort, that the new sort of gentle emulation worked wonders in lazy girls and boys, and that watching these primrose friendships, bud, blossom, and die painless deaths, gave a little touch of romance to their own workaday lives. On the whole I'd rather have my sons walking, playing, and studying with bright, well-mannered girls than always knocking about with rough boys, said Mrs. Minot, at one of the mother's meetings, where the good ladies met to talk over their children and help one another to do their duty by them. I find that Gus is more gentle with his sister since Juliet took him in hand, for he wants to stand well with her, and they report him if he troubles them. I really see no harm in the little friendship, though I never had any such when I was a girl, said Mrs. Burton, who adored her one boy and was his confidante. My Mary seems to be contended with her brother so far, but I shouldn't wonder if I had my hands full by and by, added Mrs. Grant, who already foresaw that her sweet little daughter would be sought after as soon as she should lengthen her skirts and turn up her bonny brown hair. Molly Lou had no mother to say a word for her, but she settled matters for herself by holding fast to Mary, and declaring that she would have no escort but faithful boo. It is necessary to dwell a moment upon this new amusement, because it was not peculiar to Harmony Village, but appears everywhere as naturally as the game parties and croquet which have taken the place of the husking frolics and apple-bees of olden times, and it is impossible to dodge the subject if one attempts to write up boys and girls as they really are nowadays. Dear my hero, see how you like this. If it suits you we will be ready to march as soon as the doctor gives the word, said Ralph, coming into the bird-room that evening with a neat little crutch under his arm. Ha! Ha! That looks fine. I'd like to try it right off, but I won't till I get leave. Did you make it yourself, Ralph? Asked Jack, handling it with delight, as he sat bolt upright with his leg on a rest, for he was getting uncapitally now. Rather a neat job, I flatter myself. I should say so. What a clever fellow you are! Any new inventions, lately, asked Frank, coming up to examine and admire? Only an anti-snoring machine and an elbow-pad, answered Ralph, with a twinkle in his eyes if reminded of something funny. Go on and tell about them. I never heard of an anti-snorer. Jack better have one, said Frank, interested at once. Well, a rich old lady kept her family awake with that lively music, so she sent to Shirtman and Coldleaf for something to stop it. They thought it was a good joke and told me to see what I could do. I thought it over and got up the neatest little affair you ever saw. It went over the mouth and had a tube to fit the ear, so when the lady snored she woke herself up and stopped it. It suited exactly. I think of taking out a patent, concluded Ralph, joining in the boy's laugh at the drool idea. What was the pad, asked Frank, returning to the small model of an engine he was making? Oh, that was a mere trifle for a man who had a tender elbow joint and wanted something to protect it. I made a little pad to fit on, and his crazy bone was safe. I plan to have you make me a new leg if this one was spoiled, said Jack, sure that his friend could invent anything under the sun. I'll do my best for you. I made a hand for a fellow once, and that got me my place, you know, answered Ralph, who thought little of such mechanical trifles, and longed to be painting portraits or modeling busts, being an artist as well as an inventor. Here Gus, Ed, and several other boys came in, and the conversation became general. Griff, Chick, and Brick-Bat were three young gentlemen whose own respectable names were usually ignored, and they cheerfully answered to these nicknames. As the clock struck seven, Frank, who ruled the club with a rod of iron when chairman, took his place behind the sturdy table. Seat stood about it, and a large, shabby book lay before Gus, who was secretary and kept the records with a lavish expenditure of ink to judge by the blots. The members took their seats, and nearly all tilted back their chairs and put their hands in their pockets to keep them out of mischief. For as everyone knows it is impossible for two lads to be near each other and refrain from tickling or pinching. Frank gave three wraps with an old croquet mallet set on a short handle, and with much dignity opened the meeting. Gentlemen, the business of the club will be attended to, and then we will discuss the question, shall girls go to our colleges? The secretary will now read the report of the last meeting. Clearing his throat, Gus read the following brief and elegant report. Club met December 18th at the house of G. Burton Esquire. Subject is summer or winter best fun, a lively pow-wow, about evenly divided. J. Flint find five cents for disrespect to the chair, a collection of forty cents taken up to pay for breaking a pane of glass during a free fight of the members on the doorstep. E. Devlin was chosen secretary for the coming year, and a new book contributed by the chairman. That's all. Is there any other business before the meeting, asked Frank, as the reader closed the old book with a slam and shoved the new one across the table? Good rose and glancing about him with an appealing look said as if sure his proposition would not be well received. I wish to propose the name of a new member. Bob Walker wants to join, and I think we ought to let him. He is trying to behave well, and I'm sure we could help him, can't we? All the boys look sober. And Joe, otherwise brick-bat, said, bluntly, I won't. He's a bad lot, and we don't want any such here. Let him go with chaps of his own sort. That is just what I want to keep him from. He's a good-hearted boy enough. Only no one looks after him, so he gets into scrapes. As we should, if we were in his place, I daresay. He wants to come here and would be so proud if he was let in. I know he'd behave. Come now, let's give him a chance. And Ed looked at Gus and Frank, sure that if they stood by him he should carry his point. But Gus shook his head, as if doubtful of the wisdom of the plan. And Frank said gravely, you know we made the rule that the number should never be over eight and we cannot break it. You needn't. I can't be here half the time, so I will resign and let Bob have my place, began Ed. But he was silenced by shouts of, no, no, you shan't. We won't let you off. Club would go to smash if you back out. Let him have my place, I'm the youngest and you won't miss me, cried Jack, bound to stand by Ed at all costs. We might do that, said Frank, who did object to small boys, though willing to admit this particular one. Better make a new rule to have ten members and admit both Bob and Tom Grant, said Ralph, were at Griff, Grind, and Joe scowled, for one lad liked Mary's big brother and the other did not. That's a good idea, put it to vote, said Gus, too kind-hearted to shut the door on any one. First I want to ask if all you fellows are ready to stand by Bob, out of the club as well as in, for it won't do much good to be kind to him here and cut him at school and in the street, said Ed, heartily and earnest about the matter. I will, cried Jack, ready to follow where his beloved friend led and the others nodded unwilling to be outdone by the youngest member. Good! With all of us to lend a hand we can do a great deal and I tell you boys it is time if we want to keep poor Bob straight. We all turn our backs on him so he loaves around the tavern and goes with fellows we don't care to know, but he isn't bad yet and we can keep him up, I'm sure, if we just try. I hope to get him into the lodge and that will be half the battle, won't it, Frank? added Ed, sure that this suggestion would have weight with the honourable chairman. Bring him along, I'm with you, answered Frank, making up his mind at once, for he had joined the Temperance Lodge four years ago and already six boys had followed his example. He is learning to smoke but will make him drop it before it leads to worse. You can help him there, Admiral, if you only will, added Ed, giving a grateful look at one friend and turning to the other. I'm your man, and Gus looked as if he knew what he promised, for he had given up smoking to oblige his father and kept his word like a hero. You other fellows can do a good deal by just being kind and not tweeting him with his old scrapes, and I'll do anything I can for you all to pay for this, and Ed sat down with a beaming smile feeling that his cause was one. The vote was taken and all hands went up, for even Surly Joe gave in, so Bob and Tom were duly elected and proved their gratitude for the honour done them by becoming worthy members of the club. But the kind heart and pure instincts of one lad showed the others had to lend a helping hand to a comrade in danger, and win him away from temptation to the safer pastimes of their more guarded lives. Well pleased with themselves for every genuine act or word, no matter how trifling it seems, leaves a sweet and strengthening influence behind, the members settle down to the debate which was never very long and often only an excuse for fun of all sorts. Ralph, Gus, and Ed are four, and Brickbat, Griff, and Chick against, I suppose, said Frank, surveying his company like a general preparing for battle. No, sir, I believe in co-everything, cried Chick, a mild youth who loyally escorted a chosen damsel home from school every day. Alaph greeted this bold declaration, and Chick sat down red but firm. I'll speak for two since the chairman can't, and Jack won't go against those who pet him most to death, said Joe, who not being a favorite with the girls, considered them a nuisance and lost no opportunity of telling them so. Fire away, then, since you were up, commanded Frank. Well, began Joe, feeling too late how much he had undertaken. I don't know a great deal about it, and I don't care, but I do not believe in having girls at college. They don't belong there. Nobody wants them, and they'd better be at home darning their stockings. There's two put in Ralph, who had heard that argument so often he was tired of it. Of course, that's what girls are for. I don't mind them at school, but I'd just as soon they had a room to themselves. We should get on better. You would, if Mabel wasn't in your class, and I was ahead of you, observed Ed, whose friend was a fine scholar, and he very proud of the fact. Look here, if you fellows keep interrupting, I won't sit down for half an hour, said Joe, well knowing that eloquence was not his gift, but bound to have his say out. Deep silence reigned, for that threat quelled the most impatient member and Joe prosed on, using all the arguments he had ever heard, and paying off several old scores by sly hints of a personal nature as older orators often do. It is clear to my mind that boys would get on better without any girls fooling round. As for their being as smart as we are, it is all nonsense. For some of them cry over their lessons every day, or go home with headaches, or get mad and scold all recess because something isn't fair. No, sir, girls ain't meant to know much, and they can't. Wise folks say so, and I believe them. Haven't got any sisters myself, and I don't want any, for they don't seem to amount to much, according to those who do have them. Girls from Gus and Ed greeted the closing remarks of the un-gallant Joe, who sat down feeling that he had made somebody squirm. Up jumped Griff, the delight of whose life was practical jokes, which amiable weakness made him the terror of the girls, though they had no other faults defined with the merry lad. Mr. Chairman, the ground I take is this. Girls have not the strength to go to college with us. They couldn't row a race, go on a lark, or take care of themselves as we do. They are all well enough at home, and I like them at parties. But for real fun and go I wouldn't give a cent for them, began Griff, whose views of a collegiate life were confined to the enjoyments rather than the studies of that festive period. I have tried them, and they can't stand anything. They scream if you tell them there is a mouse in the room, and run if they see a big dog. I just put a cockroach in Molly's desk one day, and when she opened it she jumped as if she was shot. So did the gentleman of the club, for at that moment half a dozen firecrackers exploded under the chair Griff had left, and flew wildly about the room. Order was with difficulty restored. The mischievous party summarily chastised and commanded to hold his tongue, under penalty of ejectment from the room, if he spoke again. Firmly grasping that red and unruly member Griff composed himself to listen with his nose in the air and his eyes shining like black beads. Ed was always the peacemaker, and now when he rose with his engaging smile his voice fell like oil upon the troubled waters, and his bright face was full of the becoming bashfulness, which afflicts youths of seventeen when touching upon such subjects of newly acquired interest as girls and their pleasant but perplexing ways. It seems to me we have hardly considered the matter enough to be able to say much, but I think that school would be awfully dry and dismal without a hum, any young ladies to make it nice. I wouldn't give a pin to go if there were only a crowd of fellows, though I like a good game as well as any man. I pity any boy who has no sisters, continued Ed, warming up as he thought of his own, who loved him dearly as well they might, for a better brother never lived. Home wouldn't be worth having without them to look after a fellow, to keep him out of scrapes, help him with his lessons, and make things jolly for his friends. I tell you we can't do without girls, and I'm not ashamed to say that I think the more we see of them, and try to be like them in many ways, the better men we shall be by and by. Here, here cried Frank in his deepest tone, for he heartily agreed to that, having talked the matter over with his mother, and received much light upon things which should always be set right in young heads and hearts. And who can do this so wisely and well as mothers if they only will? Feeling that his sentiments had been approved, and he need not be ashamed of the honest color in his cheeks, Ed sat down amid the applause of his side, especially of Jack, who pounded so vigorously with his crutch that Mrs. Peck popped in her head to see if anything was wanted. No thank you, ma'am, we were only cheering Ed, said Gus, now upon his legs, and rather at a loss, what to say, till Mrs. Peck's appearance suggested an idea, and he seized upon it. My honored friend has spoken so well that I have little to add. I agree with him, and if you want an example of what girls can do, why look at Jill. She's young, I know, but a first-rate scholar for her age. As for Pluck, she is as brave as a boy, and almost as smart at running, rowing, and so on. Of course she can't play ball, no girl can. Their arms are not made right to throw, but she can catch remarkably well. I'll say that for her. Now if she and Mabel, and some others I could name, are so clever and strong at the beginning, I don't see why they shouldn't keep up and go along with us all through. I'm willing, and will do what I can to help other fellow sisters, as I'd like to have them help mine, and I'll punch their heads if they don't, and Gus subsided assured by a burst of applause at his manly way of stating the case met with general approval. We shall be happy to hear from our senior member if he will honor us with a few remarks, said Frank, with a bow to Ralph. No one ever knew whom he would choose to personate, for he never spoke in his own character. Now he rose slowly, put one hand in his bosom, and fixing his eyes sternly on Griff, who was doing something suspicious with the pin, gave them a touch of Sergeant Buzz-Fuzz from the Pickwick Ptrial, thinking that the debate was not likely to throw much light on the subject under discussion. In the midst of this appeal to, my lord and gentleman of the jury, he suddenly paused, smoothed his hair down upon his forehead, rolled up his eyes, and folding his hands, droned out Mr. Chad Bands' sermon on peace, delivered over poor Joe and ending with his famous lines, a running stream of sparkling joy to be a glorious human boy. Then setting his hair erect with one comprehensive sweep, he caught up his coat skirts over his arm, and, assuming a parliamentary attitude, burst into a comical medley composed of extracts from Jefferson Bricks and Lafayette Kettle's speeches, and Elijah Pogrom's defiance from Martin Chuzzlewit, gazing at Gus who was convulsed with suppressed merriment, he thundered forth. In the name of our common country, sir, in the name of that righteous cause in which we are gined, and in the name of the star-spangled banner, I thank you for your eloquent and categorical remarks. You, sir, are a model of a man fresh from nature's mold, a trueborn child of this free hemisphere, verdant as the mountains of our land, bright and flowing as our mineral licks, unspiled by fashion as air our boundless pirarors. Rough you may be, so air our boughs. Wild you may be, so air our buffalers. But, sir, you air a child of freedom, and your proud answer to the tyrant is that your upright home is in the setting sun. And, sir, if any man denies this fact, though it be the British lion himself, I defy him. Let me have him here, smiting the table, and causing the ink-stand to skip, here upon this sacred altar, here upon the ancestral ashes cemented with the glorious blood poured out like water on the plains of Chikabiti Lick. Alone I dare that lion, and tell him that freedom's hand once twisted in his mane, he rolls a course before me, and the eagles of the great republic scream, Ha Ha! By this time the boys were rolling about in fits of laughter, even sober Frank was red and breathless, and Jack lay back feebly squealing as he could laugh no more. In a moment Ralph was as meek as a Quaker, and sat looking about him with a mildly astonished air, as if inquiring the cause of such unseemly mirth. A knock at the door produced a lull, and in came a maid with apples. Times up, fall to, and make yourselves comfortable, was the summary way in which the club was released from its sterner duties, and permitted to unbend its mighty mind for a social half-hour chiefly devoted to wist, with an Indian war-dance as a closing ceremony. CHAPTER 10 THE DRAMATIC CLUB While Jack was hopping gaily about on his crutches, poor Jill was feeling the effects of her second fall. And instead of sitting up, as she hoped to do after six weeks of rest, she was ordered to lie on a board for two hours each day. Not an easy penance by any means, for the board was very hard, and she could do nothing while she lay there, as it did not slope enough to permit her to read without great fatigue of both eyes and hands. So the little martyr spent her first hour of trial in sobbing, the second in singing. For just as her mother and Mrs. Minot were dreading in despair that neither she nor they could bear it, Jill suddenly broke out into a merry chorus she used to hear her father sing. FATJOUIR LA MIRLATON FATJOUIR LA MIRLATIR FATJOUIR LA MIRLATAY MIRLATON The sound of the brave little voice was very comforting to the two mothers hovering about her, and Jack said with a look of mingled pity and admiration, as he brandished his crutch over the imaginary foes. That's right, sing away, and we'll play you are an Indian captive being tormented by your enemies, and too proud to complain. I'll watch the clock, and the minute time is up I'll rush in and rescue you. Jill laughed, but the fancy pleased her, and she straightened herself out under the gay afghan while she sang, in a plaintive voice, another little French song her father taught her. JE VEIS UN COLOMBE BLANCHE JE VEIS UN BLANCHE PETIT PÉJANE TOUT DOCHE VEILAT DE BRANCHE EN BRANCHE J'AIS COU MÊT DU MÂN D'ONGEONE MAIS COMES EN COU DES VANTS D'ÉTANE C'ESTE LA BOUTA, LA PIERRE VIÈE ET MA COLOMSE MIÈNÉRE VIÈENT PLUS COLOMBIE My poor Jean had a fine voice and I always hoped the child would take after him. It would break his heart to see her lying there trying to cheer her pain with the songs he used to sing her to sleep with, said Mrs. Peck, sadly. She really has a great deal of talent, and when she is able she shall have lessons, for music is a comfort and a pleasure, sick or well, answered Mrs. Minot, who had often admired the fresh voice with its pretty accent. Here Jill began the Canadian boat song with great vigor, as if bound to play her part of Indian victim with spirit, and not disgrace herself by any more crying. All knew the air, and joined in, especially Jack, who came out strong on the Roe Brothers Roe, but ended in a squeak on a high note so drolly that the rest broke down. So the hour that began with tears ended with music and laughter, and a new pleasure to think of for the future. After that day Jill exerted all her fortitude, for she liked to have the boys call her brave and admire the cheerful way in which she endured two hours of discomfort. She found she could use her zither as it lay upon her breast, and every day the pretty music began at a certain hour, and all in the house soon learned to love and listen for it. Even the old cooks had opened her kitchen door saying pitifully, poor darling, hear how purdy she's singing, with the pain, on that cruel board, it's a little saint she is, may her bed above be easy. The music would lift her gently on and off with a kind word that comforted her immensely, and gentle Ed would come and teach her new bits of music while the other fellows were frolicking below. Ralph added his share to her amusement, for he asked Leve to model her head in clay, and set up his work in a corner, coming to Pat scrape and mold whenever he had a spare minute, amusing her by his lively chat, and showing her how to shape birds, rabbits, and queer faces in the soft clay, when the songs were all sung and her fingers tired of the zither. The girls sympathized very heartily with her new trial, and brought all manner of gifts to cheer her captivity. Mary and Molly made a gay screen by pasting pictures on the black cambrick, which covered the folding frame that stood before her to keep the drafts from her as she lay on her board. Like birds and flowers, figures and animals covered one side, and on the other they put mottos, bits of poetry, anecdotes, and short stories, so that Jill could lie and look or read without the trouble of holding a book. It was not all done at once, but grew slowly, and was a source of instruction as well as amusement to them all, as they read carefully that they might make good selections. But the thing that pleased Jill most was something Jack did, for he gave up going to school and stayed at home nearly a fortnight after he might have gone, all for her sake. The day the doctor said he might try it, if he would be very careful, he was in great spirits, and limped about looking up his books, and planning how he would astonish his mates by the rapidity of his recovery. When he sat down to rest he remembered Jill, who had been lying quietly behind the screen, while he talked with his mother, busy putting fresh covers on the books. She is so still, I guess she is asleep, thought Jack, peeping round the corner. No, not asleep, but lying with her eyes fixed on the sunny window, beyond which the bright winter world sparkled after a fresh snowfall. The jingle of sleigh bells could be heard, the laughter of boys and girls on their way to school, all the pleasant stir of a new day of happy work and play for the rest of the world. More lonely, quiet, and wearisome than ever to her since her friend and fellow prisoner was being set free and going to leave her. Jack understood that patient, wistful look, and without a word went back to his seat, staring at the fire so soberly, that his mother presently asked, What are you thinking of so busily with that pucker in your forehead? I've about made up my mind that I won't go to school just yet, answered Jack, slowly lifting his head, for it cost him something to give up the long-expected pleasure. Why not? And Mrs. Minot looked much surprised, till Jack pointed to the screen and making a sad face to express Jill's anguish, answered in a cheerful tone, Well, I'm not sure that it is best. Doctor did not want me to go, but said I might because I teased. I shall be sure to come to grief, and then everyone will say I told you so, and that is so provoking. I'd rather keep still a week longer, hadn't I better? His mother smiled, and nodded as she said, sowing away at much abused old Caesar. As if she loved him. Do as you think best, dear, I always want you at home, but I don't wonder you are rather tired of it after this long confinement. I say, Jill, should I be in your way if I didn't go to school till the first of February, called Jack, laughing to himself at the absurdity of the question? Not much, answered a glad voice from behind the screen, and he knew the sorrowful eyes were shining with delight, though he could not see them. Well, I guess I may as well, and get quite firm on my legs before I start. Another week or so will bring me up if I study hard, so I shall not lose my time. I'll tackle my Latin as soon as it's ready, mother. Jack got a hearty kiss with a neatly covered book, and Mama loved him for the little sacrifice more than if he had won a prize at school. He did get a reward, for in five minutes from the time he decided Jill was singing like a bobble-link, and such a medley of merry music came from behind the screen that it was a regular morning concert. She did not know that he stayed for her sake, but she found it out soon after, and when the time came did as much for him as we shall see. It proved a wise decision, for the last part of January was so stormy Jack could not have gone half the time. So while the snow drifted and the bitter winds raged, he sat snugly at home amusing Jill and getting on bravely with his lessons. For Frank took great pains with him to show his approbation of the little kindness, and somehow the memory of it seemed to make even the detested Latin easier. In February fair weather set in, and Jack marched happily away to school, with Jill's new mittens on his hands, Mama nodding from the doorstep, and Frank ready to give him a lift on the new sled if the way proved too long or too rough. I shall not have time to miss him now, for we are to be very busy getting ready for the twenty second. The dramatic club meets tonight, and will like to come here if they may, so I can help, said Jill, as Mrs. Minot came up, expecting to find her rather low in her mind. Certainly, and I have a basket of old finery I looked up for the club when I was rummaging out bits of silk for your blue quilt, answered the good lady, who had set up a new employment to beguile the hours of Jack's absence. When the girls arrived that evening they found Mrs. Chairwoman surrounded by a strew of theatrical properties, enjoying herself very much. All brought such contributions as they could muster, and all were eager about a certain tableau which was to be the gem of the whole. They thought. Jill, of course, was not expected to take any part, but her taste was good, so all consulted her as they showed their old silks, laces, and flowers, asking who should be this and who that. All wanted to be the sleeping beauty, for that was the chosen scene, with the slumbering court about the princess, and the prince in the act of awakening her. Jack was to be the hero, brave in his mother's velvet cape, red boots, and a real sword, while the other boys were to have parts of more or less splendor. Mabel should be the beautyish, because her hair is so lovely, said Juliet, who was quite satisfied with her own part of the queen. No, Mary ought to have it, as she is the prettiest, and has that splendid veil to wear, answered Mollie, who was to be the maid of honour, cuffing the little page-boo. I don't care a bit, but my feather would be fine for the princess, and I don't know as Emma would like to have me lend it to any one else, said Annette, waving a long white plume over her head, with girlish delight at its grace. I should think the white silk dress, the veil and the feather ought to go together, with the scarlet crepe shawl and these pearls. That would be sweet, and just what princesses really wear, advised Jill, who was stringing a quantity of old Roman pearls. We all want to wear the nice things, so let us draw lots. Wouldn't that be the fairest way, asked Mary, looking like a rosy little bride, under a great piece of illusion which had done duty in many plays? The prince is light, so the princess must be darkish. We ought to choose the girl who will look best, as it is a picture. I heard Miss Delano say so, when the ladies got up the tableau lax summer, and everyone wanted to be clear patricid, Jill, decidedly. You choose, and then if we can't agree we will draw lots, proposed Susie, who, being plain, knew there was little hope of her getting a chance in any other way. So all stood in a row, and Jill, from her sofa, surveyed them critically, feeling that the one Jack would really prefer was not among the number. I choose that one, for Juliet wants to be queen, Molly would make faces, and the others are too big or too light, pronounced Jill, pointing to Mary, who looked pleased, while Mabel's face darkened, and Susie gave a disdainful sniff. You'd better draw lots, and then there will be no fuss. You and I are out of the fight, but you three can try, and let this settle the matter, said Molly, handing Jill a long strip of paper. All agreed to let it be so, and when the bits were ready drew in turn. This time fate was evidently on Mary's side, and no one grumbled when she showed the longest paper. Go and dress, then come back, and we'll plan out how we are to be placed before we call up the boys, commanded Jill, who was manager, since she could be nothing else. The girls retired to the bedroom and began to rig up, as they called it, but discontent still lurked among them, and showed itself in sharp words, envious looks, and disobliging acts. Am I to have the white silk and the feather, asked Mary, delighted with the silvery shimmer of the one and the graceful droop of the other, though both were rather shabby? You can use your own dress, I don't see why you should have everything, answered Susie, who was at the mirror putting a wreath of scarlet flowers on her red head, bound to be gay since she could not be pretty. I think I'd better keep the plume, as I haven't anything else that is nice, and I'm afraid Emma wouldn't like me to lend it, added Annette, who was disappointed that Mabel was not to be the beauty. I don't intend to act at all, declared Mabel, beginning to braid up her hair with a jerk out of humor with the whole affair. I think you are set of cross-selfish girls to back out and keep all your nice things, just because you can't all have the best part. I'm ashamed of you, Scald and Molly, standing by Mary, who was sadly surveying her mother's old purple silk, which looked like brown in the evening. I'm going to have Miss Delano's red brocade for the queen, and I shall ask her for the yellow satin dress for Mary when I go to get mine, and tell her how mean you are, said Juliet, frowning under her gilt paper crown as she swept about in a red tablecloth for train till the brocade arrived. Perhaps you'd like to have Mabel cut her hair off so Mary can have that too, cried Susie, with whom hair was a tender point. Light hair isn't wanted, so Jew will have to give hers, or you'd better borrow Miss Batt's frazzette, added Mabel with a scornful laugh. I just wish Miss Batt was here to give you girls a good shaking. Do let someone else have a chance at the glass, you peacock, exclaimed Molly Lou, pushing Susie aside to arrange her own blue turban. Out of which she plucked a pink pom-pom to give Mary. Don't quarrel about me, I shall do well enough, and the Scarlet Shaw will hide my ugly dress, said Mary, from the corner, where she sat waiting for her turn at the mirror. As she spoke of the shawl her eye went in search of it, and something that she saw in the other room put her own disappointment out of her head. Jill lay there all alone, rather tired with the lively chatter, and the effort it cost her not to repine at being shut out from the great delight of dressing up and acting. Her eyes were closed, her net was off, and all the pretty black curls lay about her shoulders as one hand idly pulled them out, while the other rested on the red shawl as if she loved its glowing color and soft texture. She was humming to herself the little song of the dove and the Don John, and something in the plaintive voice the solitary figure went straight to Mary's gentle heart. Poor Jillie can't have any of the fun was the first thought. Then came a second that made Mary start and smile. And in a minute whisper saw that all but Jill could hear her. Girls, I'm not going to be the princess, but I've thought of a splendid one. Who? asked the rest, staring at one another much surprised by this sudden announcement. Hush, speak lower, you'll spoil it all. Look in the bird-room and tell me if that isn't a prettier princess that I can make. They all looked, but no one spoke, and Mary added with sweet eagerness. It is the only thing poor Jill can be, and it would make her so happy. Jack would like it, and it would please everyone, I know. Perhaps she will never walk again, so we ought to be very good to her, poor dear. The last words, whispered with a little quiver in the voice, settled the matter better than hours of talking, for girls are tender-hearted creatures, and not one of these but would have gladly given all the pretty things she owned to see Jill dancing about well and strong again. Like a ray of sunshine the kind thought touched and brightened every face. Envy, impatience, vanity, and discontent flew away like imps at the coming of the good fairy, and with one accord they all cried. It will be lovely, let us go and tell her. Forgetting their own adornment, out they trooped after Mary, who ran to the sofa saying, with a smile which reflected in all the other faces, Jill, dear, we have chosen another princess, and I know you'll like her. Who is it? asked Jill, languidly, opening her eyes without the least suspicion of the truth. I'll show you. And taking the cherished veil from her own head, Mary dropped it like a soft cloud over Jill. Annette added the long plume. Daisy laid the white silk dress about her, while Juliet and Mabel lifted the scarlet shawl to spread it over the foot of the sofa, and Molly tore the last ornament from her turban, a silver star, to shine on Jill's breast. Then they all took hands and danced round the couch singing as they laughed, at her astonishment. There she is, there she is, Princess Jill is fine as you please. Do you really mean it? But can I? Is it fair? How sweet of you! Come here and let me hug you all, cried Jill, in a rapture at the surprise, and the pretty way in which it was done. The grand scene on the twenty-second was very fine indeed, but the little tableau of that minute was infinitely better, though no one saw it, as Jill tried to gather them all in her arms, for that nose-gay of girlish faces was the sweeter, because each one had sacrificed her own little vanity to please a friend, and her joy was reflected in the eyes that sparkled round the happy Princess. O you dear kind things, to think of me and give me all your best clothes, I never shall forget it, and I'll do anything for you. Yes, I'll write and ask Mrs. Piper to lend us her ermine cloak for the King, see if I don't. Thanks a delight hailed this noble offer, for no one had dared to borrow the much coveted mantle, but all agreed that the old lady would not refuse Jill. It was astonishing how smoothly everything went after this, for each was eager to help, admire, and suggest, in the friendliest way, and when all were dressed the boys found a party of very gay ladies waiting for them round the couch, where lay the brightest little Princess ever seen. O Jack, I'm to act! Wasn't it dear of the girls to choose me? Don't they look lovely? Aren't you glad, cried Jill, as the lads stared and the lasses blushed and smiled? Well pleased at the frank admiration the boyish faces showed. I guess I am. You are a set of trumps, and we'll give you a first-class spread after the play to pay for it, won't we, fellows? After Jack, much gratified, and feeling that now he could act his own part capitally. We will. It was a handsome thing to do, and we think well of you for it. Hey, Gus, and Frank nodded approvingly at all, though he looked only at a net. As king of this crowd I call it to order, said Gus, retiring to the throne, where Juliet set laughing in a red tablecloth. We'll have the fair one with golden locks next time. I promise you that, whispered Ed to Mabel, whose shining hair streamed over her blue dress like a mantle of gold-colored silk. Girls are pretty nice things, aren't they? Kind of them to take Jill in. Don't Molly look fine, though? And Griff's black eyes twinkle as he planned to pin her skirts to Mary's at the first opportunity. Susie looks as gay as a feather duster. She never snubs a fellow, said Joe, much impressed with a splendor of the court-ladies. The boy's costumes were not yet ready, but they posed well, and all had a merry time, ending with a game of blind man's bluff, in which everyone caught the right person in the most singular way, and all agreed as they went home in the moonlight that it had been an unusually jolly meeting. So the fairy play woke, the sleeping beauty that lies in us all of us, and makes us lovely when we rouse it with a kiss of unselfish goodwill. For though the girls did not know it then, they had adorned themselves with pearls more precious than the waxen ones they decked their princess in.