WHERE ‘S Polly?" asked Fan one snowy afternoon, as she came
into the dining-room where Tom was reposing on the sofa with his
boots in the air, absorbed in one of those delightful books in which
boys are cast away on desert islands, where every known fruit,
vegetable and flower is in its prime all the year round; or, lost in
boundless forests, where the young heroes have thrilling
adventures, kill impossible beasts, and, when the author’s
invention gives out, suddenly find their way home, laden with tiger
skins, tame buffaloes and other pleasing trophies of their prowess.
"Dun no," was Tom’s brief reply, for he was just escaping from an
alligator of the largest size.
"Do put down that stupid book, and let ‘s do something," said
Fanny, after a listless stroll round the room.
"Hi, they ‘ve got him!" was the only answer vouchsafed by the
"Where ‘s Polly?" asked Maud, joining the party with her hands
full of paper dolls all suffering for ball-dresses.
"Do get along, and don’t bother me," cried Tom exasperated at the
"Then tell us where she is. I ‘m sure you know, for she was down
here a little while ago," said Fanny.
"Up in grandma’s room, maybe."
"Provoking thing! you knew it all the time, and did n’t tell, just to
plague us," scolded Maud.
But Tom was now under water stabbing his alligator, and took no
notice of the indignant departure of the young ladies.
"Polly ‘s always poking up in grandma’s room. I don’t see what fun
there is in it," said Fanny as they went up stairs.
"Polly ‘s a verwy queer girl, and gwandma pets her a gweat deal
more than she does me," observed Maud, with an injured air.
"Let ‘s peek and see what they are doing," whispered Fan, pausing
at the half-open door.
Grandma was sitting before a quaint old cabinet, the doors of
which stood wide open, showing glimpses of the faded relics
treasured there. On a stool, at the old lady’s feet, sat Polly, looking
up with intent face and eager eyes, quite absorbed in the history of
a high-heeled brocade shoe which lay in her lap.
"Well, my dear," grandma was saying, "she had it on the very day
that Uncle Joe came in as she sat at work, and said, ‘Dolly, we
must be married at once.’ ‘Very well, Joe,’ says Aunt Dolly, and
down she went to the parlor, where the minister was waiting, never
stopping to change the dimity dress she wore, and was actually
married with her scissors and pin-ball at her side, and her thimble
on. That was in war times, 1812, my dear, and Uncle Joe was in
the army, so he had to go, and he took that very little pin-ball with
him. Here it is with the mark of a bullet through it, for he always
said his Dolly’s cushion saved his life."
"How interesting that is!" cried Polly, as she examined the faded
cushion with the hole in it.
"Why, grandma, you never told me that story," said Fanny,
hurrying in, finding the prospect was a pleasant one for a stormy
"You never asked me to tell you anything, my dear, so I kept my
old stories to myself," answered grandma, quietly.
"Tell some now, please. May we stay and see the funny things?"
said Fan and Maud, eyeing the open cabinet with interest.
"If Polly likes; she is my company, and I am trying to entertain her,
for I love to have her come," said grandma, with her old-time
"Oh, yes! do let them stay and hear the stories. I ‘ve often told them
what good times we have up here, and teased them to come, but
they think it ‘s too quiet. Now, sit down, girls, and let grandma go
on. You see I pick out something in the cabinet that looks
interesting, and then she tells me about it," said Polly, eager to
include the girls in her pleasures, and glad to get them interested in
grandma’s reminiscences, for Polly knew how happy it made the
lonely old lady to live over her past, and to have the children round
"Here are three drawers that have not been opened yet; each take
one, and choose something from it for me to tell about," said
Madam, quite excited at the unusual interest in her treasures.
So the girls each opened a drawer and turned over the contents till
they found something they wanted to know about. Maud was ready
first, and holding up an oddly shaped linen bag, with a big blue F
embroidered on it, demanded her story. Grandma smiled as she
smoothed the old thing tenderly, and began her story with evident
"My sister Nelly and I went to visit an aunt of ours, when we were
little girls, but we did n’t have a very good time, for she was
extremely strict. One afternoon, when she had gone out to tea, and
old Debby, the maid, was asleep in her room, we sat on the
door-step, feeling homesick, and ready for any thing to amuse us.
" ‘What shall we do?’ said Nelly.
"Just as she spoke, a ripe plum dropped bounce on the grass before
us, as if answering her question. It was all the plum’s fault, for if it
had n’t fallen at that minute, I never should have had the thought
which popped into my mischievous mind.
" ‘Let ‘s have as many as we want, and plague Aunt Betsey, to pay
her for being so cross,’ I said, giving Nelly half the great purple
" ‘It would be dreadful naughty,’ began Nelly, ‘but I guess we will,’
she added, as the sweet mouthful slipped down her throat.
" ‘Debby ‘s asleep. Come on, then, and help me shake,’ I said,
getting up, eager for the fun.
"We shook and shook till we got red in the face, but not one
dropped, for the tree was large, and our little arms were not strong
enough to stir the boughs. Then we threw stones, but only one
green and one half-ripe one came down, and my last stone broke
the shed window, so there was an end of that.
" ‘It ‘s as provoking as Aunt Betsey herself,’ said Nelly, as we sat
down, out of breath.
" ‘I wish the wind would come and blow ’em down for us,’ panted I,
staring up at the plums with longing eyes.
" ‘If wishing would do any good, I should wish ’em in my lap at
once,’ added Nelly.
" ‘You might as well wish ’em in your mouth and done with it, if
you are too lazy to pick ’em up. If the ladder was n’t too heavy we
could try that,’ said I, determined to have them.
" ‘You know we can’t stir it, so what is the use of talking about it?
You proposed getting the plums, now let ‘s see you do it,’ answered
Nelly, rather crossly, for she had bitten the green plum, and it
puckered her mouth.
" ‘Wait a minute, and you will see me do it,’ cried I, as a new
thought came into my naughty head.
" ‘What are you taking your shoes and socks off for? You can’t
climb the tree, Fan.’ " ‘Don’t ask questions, but be ready to pick ’em
up when they fall, Miss Lazybones.’ "With this mysterious speech I
pattered into the house bare-footed and full of my plan. Up stairs I
went to a window opening on the shed roof. Out I got, and
creeping carefully along till I came near the tree, I stood up, and
suddenly crowed like the little rooster. Nelly looked up, and stared,
and laughed, and clapped her hands when she saw what I was
going to do.
" ‘I ‘m afraid you ‘ll slip and get hurt.’ " ‘Don’t care if I do; I ‘ll have
those plums if I break my neck doing it,’ and half sliding, half
walking I went down the sloping roof, till the boughs of the tree
were within my reach.
"Hurrah!" cried Nelly, dancing down below, as my first shake sent
a dozen plums rattling round her.
"’Hurrah!" cried I, letting go one branch and trying to reach
another. But as I did so my foot slipped, I tried to catch something
to hold by, but found nothing, and with a cry, down I fell, like a
very big plum on the grass below.
"Fortunately the shed was low, the grass was thick and the tree
broke my fall, but I got a bad bump and a terrible shaking. Nelly
thought I was killed, and began to cry with her mouth full. But I
picked myself up in a minute, for I was used to such tumbles; and
did n’t mind the pain half as much as the loss of the plums.
" ‘Hush! Debby will hear and spoil all the fun. I said I ‘d get ’em
and I have. See what lots have come down with me.’ "So there had,
for my fall shook the tree almost as much as it did me, and the
green and purple fruit lay all about us.
"By the time the bump on my forehead had swelled as big as a nut,
our aprons were half full, and we sat down to enjoy ourselves. But
we did n’t. O dear, no! for many of the plums were not ripe, some
were hurt by the birds, some crushed in falling, and many as hard
as stones. Nelly got stung by a wasp, my head began to ache, and
we sat looking at one another rather dismally, when Nelly had a
" ‘Let ‘s cook ’em, then they ‘ll be good, and we can put some away
in our little pails for to-morrow.’ " ‘That will be splendid! There ‘s a
fire in the kitchen, Debby always leaves the kettle on, and we can
use her saucepan, and I know where the sugar is, and we ‘ll have a
grand time.’ "In we went, and fell to work very quietly. It was a
large, open fire-place, with the coals nicely covered up, and the big
kettle simmering on the hook. We raked open the fire, put on the
saucepan, and in it the best of our plums, with water enough to
spoil them. But we did n’t know that, and felt very important as we
sat waiting for it to boil, each armed with a big spoon, while the
sugar box stood between us ready to be used.
"How slow they were, to be sure! I never knew such obstinate
things, for they would n’t soften, though they danced about in the
boiling water, and bobbed against the cover as if they were doing
"The sun began to get low, we were afraid Debby would come
down, and still those dreadful plums would n’t look like sauce. At
last they began to burst, the water got a lovely purple, we put lots
of sugar in, and kept tasting till our aprons and faces were red, and
our lips burnt with the hot spoons.
"’There ‘s too much juice,’ said Nelly, shaking her head wisely. ‘It
ought to be thick and nice like mamma’s.’ "’I ‘ll pour off some of
the juice, and we can drink it,’ said I, feeling that I ‘d made a
mistake in my cooking.
"So Nelly got a bowl, and I got a towel and lifted the big saucepan
carefully off. It was heavy and hot, and I was a little afraid of it,
but did n’t like to say so. Just as I began to pour, Debby suddenly
called from the top of the stairs, ‘Children, what under the sun are
you doing?’ "It startled us both. Nelly dropped the bowl and ran. I
dropped the saucepan and did n’t run, for a part of the hot juice
splashed upon my bare feet, and ankles, and made me scream with
"Down rushed Debby to find me dancing about the kitchen with a
great bump on my forehead, a big spoon in my hand, and a pair of
bright purple feet. The plums were lying all over the hearth, the
saucepan in the middle of the room, the basin was broken, and the
sugar swimming about as if the bowl had turned itself over trying
to sweeten our mess for us.
"Debby was very good to me, for she never stopped to scold, but
laid me down on the old sofa, and bound up my poor little feet
with oil and cotton wool. Nelly, seeing me lie white and weak,
thought I was dying, and went over to the neighbor’s for Aunt
Betsey, and burst in upon the old ladies sitting primly at, their tea,
crying, distractedly, " ‘Oh, Aunt Betsey, come quick! for the
saucepan fell off the shed, and Fan’s feet are all boiled purple!’
"Nobody laughed at this funny message, and Aunt Betsey ran all
the way home with a muffin in her hand and her ball in her pocket,
though the knitting was left behind.
"I suffered a great deal, but I was n’t sorry afterward, for I learned
to love Aunt Betsey, who nursed me tenderly, and seemed to forget
her strict ways in her anxiety for me.
"This bag was made for my special comfort, and hung on the sofa
where I lay all those weary days. Aunt kept it full of pretty
patchwork or, what I liked better, ginger-nuts, and peppermint
drops, to amuse me, though she did n’t approve of cosseting
children up, any more than I do now."
"I like that vewy well, and I wish I could have been there," was
Maud’s condescending remark, as she put back the little bag, after
a careful peep inside, as if she hoped to find an ancient ginger-nut,
or a well-preserved peppermint drop still lingering in some corner.
"We had plums enough that autumn, but did n’t seem to care much
about them, after all, for our prank became a household joke, and,
for years, we never saw the fruit, but Nelly would look at me with
a funny face, and whisper, ‘Purple stockings, Fan!’ "
"Thank you, ma’am," said Polly. "Now, Fan, your turn next."
"Well, I ‘ve a bundle of old letters, and I ‘d like to know if there is
any story about them," answered Fanny, hoping some romance
might be forthcoming.
Grandma turned over the little packet tied up with a faded pink
ribbon; a dozen yellow notes written on rough, thick paper, with
red wafers still adhering to the folds, showing plainly that they
were written before the day of initial note-paper and self-sealing
"They are not love-letters, deary, but notes from my mates after I
left Miss Cotton’s boarding-school. I don’t think there is any story
about them," and grandma turned them over with spectacles before
the dim eyes, so young and bright when they first read the very
Fanny was about to say, "I ‘ll choose again," when grandma began
to laugh so heartily that the girls felt sure she had caught some
merry old memory which would amuse them.
"Bless my heart, I have n’t thought of that frolic this forty years.
Poor, dear, giddy Sally Pomroy, and she ‘s a great-grandmother
now!" cried the old lady, after reading one of the notes, and
clearing the mist off her glasses.
"Now, please tell about her; I know it ‘s something funny to make
you laugh so," said Polly and Fan together.
"Well, it was droll, and I ‘m glad I remembered it for it ‘s just the
story to tell you young things.
"It was years ago," began grandma, briskly, "and teachers were
very much stricter than they are now. The girls at Miss Cotton’s
were not allowed lights in their rooms after nine o’clock, never
went out alone, and were expected to behave like models of
propriety from morning till night.
"As you may imagine, ten young girls, full of spirits and fun, found
these rules hard to keep, and made up for good behavior in public
by all sorts of frolics in private.
"Miss Cotton and her brother sat in the back parlor after school
was over, and the young ladies were sent to bed. Mr. John was
very deaf, and Miss Priscilla very near-sighted, two convenient
afflictions for the girls on some occasions, but once they proved
quite the reverse, as you shall hear.
"We had been very prim for a week, and our bottled up spirits
could no longer be contained; so we planed a revel after our own
hearts, and set our wits to work to execute it.
"The first obstacle was surmounted in this way. As none of us
could get out alone, we resolved to lower Sally from the window,
for she was light and small, and very smart.
"With our combined pocket-money she was to buy nuts and candy,
cake and fruit, pie, and a candle, so that we might have a light,
after Betsey took ours away as usual. "We were to darken the
window of the inner chamber, set a watch in the little entry, light
up, and then for a good time.
"At eight o’clock on the appointed evening, several of us professed
great weariness, and went to our room, leaving the rest sewing
virtuously with Miss Cotton, who read Hannah More’s Sacred
Dramas aloud, in a way that fitted the listeners for bed as well as a
dose of opium would have done.
"I am sorry to say I was one of the ringleaders; and as soon as we
got up stairs, produced the rope provided for the purpose, and
invited Sally to be lowered. It was an old-fashioned house, sloping
down behind, and the closet window chosen by us was not many
feet from the ground.
"It was a summer evening, so that at eight o’clock it was still light;
but we were not afraid of being seen, for the street was a lonely
one, and our only neighbors two old ladies, who put down their
curtains at sunset, and never looked out till morning.
"Sally had been bribed by promises of as many ‘goodies’ as she
could eat, and being a regular madcap, she was ready for anything.
"Tying the rope round her waist she crept out, and we let her safely
down, sent a big basket after her, and saw her slip round the comer
in my big sun bonnet and another girl’s shawl, so that she should
not be recognized.
"Then we put our night-gowns over our dresses, and were laid
peacefully in bed when Betsey came up, earlier than usual; for it
was evident that Miss Cotton felt a little suspicious at our sudden
"For half an hour we lay laughing and whispering, as we waited for
the signal from Sally. At last we heard a cricket chirp shrilly under
the window, and flying up, saw a little figure below in the twilight.
" ‘O, quick! quick!’ cried Sally, panting with haste. ‘Draw up the
basket and then get me in, for I saw Mr. Cotton in the market, and
ran all the way home, so that I might get in before he came.’ "Up
came the heavy basket, bumping and scraping on the way, and
smelling, O, so nice! Down went the rope, and with a long pull, a
strong pull, and a pull all together, we hoisted poor Sally half-way
up to the window, when, sad to tell, the rope slipped and down she
fell, only being saved from broken bones by the hay-cock under
"’He ‘s coming! he ‘s coming! O pull me up, for mercy sake!’ cried
Sally, scrambling to her feet unhurt, but a good deal shaken.
"We saw a dark figure approaching, and dragged her in with more
bumping and scraping, and embraced her with rapture, for we had
just escaped being detected by Mr. John, whose eyes were as sharp
as his ears were dull.
"We heard the front-door shut, then a murmur of voices, and then
Betsey’s heavy step coming up stairs.
"Under the bed went the basket, and into the beds went the
conspirators, and nothing could have been more decorous than the
appearance of the room when Betsey popped her head in.
" ‘Master’s an old fidget to send me travelling up again, just
because he fancied he saw something amiss at the window.
Nothing but a curtain flapping, or a shadder, for the poor dears is
sleeping like lambs.’ "We heard her say this to herself, and a
general titter agitated the white coverlets as she departed.
"Sally was in high feather at the success of her exploit, and danced
about like an elf, as she put her night-gown on over her frock,
braided her hair in funny little tails all over her head, and fastened
the great red pin-cushion on her bosom for a breastpin in honor of
"The other girls went to their rooms as agreed upon, and all was
soon dark and still up stairs, while Miss Cotton began to enjoy
herself below, as she always did when ‘her young charges’ were
safely disposed of.
"Then ghosts began to walk, and the mice scuttled back to their
holes in alarm, for white figures glided from room to room, till all
were assembled in the little chamber.
"The watch was set at the entry door, the signal agreed upon, the
candle lighted, and the feast spread forth upon a newspaper on the
bed, with the coverlet arranged so that it could be whisked over the
refreshments at a moment’s notice.
"How good everything was, to be sure! I don’t think I ‘ve eaten any
pies since that had such a delicious flavor as those broken ones,
eaten hastily, in that little oven of a room, with Sally making jokes
and the others enjoying stolen sweets with true girlish relish. Of
course it was very wicked, but I must tell the truth.
"We were just beginning on the cake when the loud scratching of a
rat disturbed us.
" ‘The signal! fly! run! hide! Hush, don’t laugh!’ cried several
voices, and we scuttled into bed as rapidly and noiselessly as
possible, with our mouths and hands full.
"A long pause, broken by more scratching; but as no one came, we
decided on sending to inquire what it meant. I went and found
Mary, the picket guard half asleep, and longing for her share of the
" ‘It was a real rat; I ‘ve not made a sound. Do go and finish; I ‘m
tired of this,’ said Mary, slapping away at the mosquitoes.
"Back I hurried with the good news. Every one flew up, briskly.
We lighted the candle again, and returned to our revel. The
refreshments were somewhat injured by Sally’s bouncing in among
them, bit we did n’t care, and soon finished the cake.
" ‘Now let ‘s have the nuts,’ I said, groping for the paper bag.
" ‘They are almonds and peanuts, so we can crack them with our
teeth. Be sure you get the bag by the right end,’ said Sally.
" ‘I know what I ‘m about,’ and to show her that it was all right, I
gave the bag a little shake, when out flew the nuts, rattling like a
hail-storm all over the uncarpeted floor.
" ‘Now you ‘ve done it,’ cried Sally, as Mary scratched like a mad
rat, and a door creaked below, for Miss Cotton was not deaf.
"Such a flurry as we were in! Out went the candle, and each one
rushed away with as much of the feast as she could seize in her
haste. Sally dived into her bed, recklessly demolishing the last pie,
and scattering the candy far and wide.
"Poor Mary was nearly caught for Miss Cotton was quicker than
Betsey, and our guard had to run for her life.
"Our room was the first, and was in good order, though the two
flushed faces on the pillows were rather suspicious. Miss Cotton
stood staring about her, looking so funny, without her cap, that my
bedfellow would have gone off in a fit of laughter, if I had not
pinched her warningly.
" ‘Young ladies, what is this unseemly noise?’ "No answer from us
but a faint snore. Miss Cotton marched into the next room, put the
same question and received the same reply.
"In the third chamber lay Sally, and we trembled as the old lady
went in. Sitting up, we peeped and listened breathlessly.
" ‘Sarah, I command you to tell me what this all means?’ "But Sally
only sighed in her sleep, and muttered, wickedly, ‘Ma, take me
home. I ‘m starved at Cotton’s.’ " ‘Mercy on me! is the child going
to have a fever?’ cried the old lady, who did not observe the tell
tale nuts at her feet.
" ‘So dull, so strict! O take me home!’ moaned Sally, tossing her
arms and gurgling, like a naughty little gypsy.
"That last bit of acting upset the whole concern, for as she tossed
her arms she showed the big red cushion on her breast.
Near-sighted as she was, that ridiculous object could not escape
Miss Cotton, neither did the orange that rolled out from the pillow,
nor the boots appearing at the foot of the bed.
"With sudden energy the old lady plucked off the cover, and there
lay Sally with her hair dressed . la Topsy, her absurd breast-pin
and her dusty boots, among papers of candy, bits of pie and cake,
oranges and apples, and a candle upside down burning a hole in
"At the sound of Miss Cotton’s horrified exclamation Sally woke
up, and began laughing so merrily that none of us could resist
following her example, and the rooms rang with merriment far
many minutes. I really don’t know when we should have stopped if
Sally had not got choked with the nut she had in her mouth, and so
frightened us nearly out of our wits."
"What became of the things, and how were you punished?" asked
Fan, in the middle of her laughter.
"The remains of the feast went to the pig, and we were kept on
bread and water for three days."
"Did that cure you?"
"Oh, dear, no! we had half a dozen other frolics that very summer;
and although I cannot help laughing at the remembrance of this,
you must not think, child, that I approve of such conduct, or
excuse it. No, no, my dear, far from it."
"I call that a, tip-top story! Drive on, grandma, and tell one about
boys," broke in a new voice, and there was Tom astride of a chair
listening and laughing with all his might, for his book had come to
an end, and he had joined the party unobserved.
"Wait for your turn, Tommy. Now, Polly, dear, what will you
have?" said grandma, looking, so lively and happy, that it was very
evident "reminiscing" did her good.
"Let mine come last, and tell one for Tom next," said Polly,
looking round, and beckoning him nearer.
He came and sat himself cross-legged on the floor, before the
lower drawer of the cabinet, which grandma opened for him,
saying, with a benign stroke of the curly head, "There, dear, that ‘s
where I keep the little memorials of my brother Jack. Poor lad, he
was lost at sea, you know. Well, choose anything you like, and I ‘ll
try to remember a story about it."
Tom made a rapid rummage, and fished up a little broken pistol.
"There, that ‘s the chap for me! Wish it was n’t spoilt, then we ‘d
have fun popping away at the cats in the yard. Now, then,
"I remember one of Jack’s pranks, when that was used with great
effect," said grandma, after a thoughtful pause, during which Tom
teased the girls by snapping the lock of the pistol in their faces.
"Once upon a time," continued Madam, much flattered by the row
of interested faces before her, "my father went away on business,
leaving mother, aunt, and us girls to Jack’s care. Very proud he
was, to be sure, of the responsibility, and the first thing he did was
to load that pistol and keep it by his bed, in our great worriment,
for we feared he ‘d kill himself with it. For a week all went well;
then we were startled by the news that robbers were about. All
sorts of stories flew through the town (we were living in the
country then); some said that certain houses were marked with a
black cross, and those were always robbed; others, that there was a
boy in the gang, for windows, so small that they were considered
safe, were entered by some little rogue. At one place the thieves
had a supper, and left ham and cake in the front yard. Mrs. Jones
found Mrs. Smith’s shawl in her orchard, with a hammer and an
unknown teapot near it. One man reported that some one tapped at
his window, in the night, saying, softly, ‘Is anyone here?’ and when
he looked out, two men were seen to run down the road.
"We lived just out of town, in a lonely place; the house was old,
with convenient little back windows, and five outside doors. Jack
was the only man about the place, and he was barely thirteen.
Mother and aunt were very timid, and the children weren’t old
enough to be of any use, so Jack and I were the home-guard, and
vowed to defend the family manfully."
"Good for you! Hope the fellows came!" cried Tom, charmed with
"One day, an ill-looking man came in and asked for food,"
continued grandma, with a mysterious nod; "and while he ate, I
saw him glance sharply about from the wooden buttons on the
back-doors, to the silver urn and tankards on the dining-room
sideboard. A strong suspicion took possession of me, and I
watched him as a cat does a mouse.
"’He came to examine the premises, I ‘m sure of it, but we will be
ready for him,’ I said, fiercely, as I told the family about him.
"This fancy haunted us all, and our preparations were very funny.
Mother borrowed a rattle, and kept it under her pillow. Aunt took a
big bell to bed with her; the children had little Tip, the terrier, to
sleep in their room; while Jack and I mounted guard, he with the
pistol, and I with a hatchet, for I did n’t like fire-arms. Biddy, who
slept in the attic, practised getting out on the shed roof, so that she
might run away at the first alarm. Every night we arranged pit-falls
for the robbers, and all filed up to bed, bearing plate, money,
weapons, and things to barricade with, as if we lived in war times.
"We waited a week and no one came, so we began to feel rather
slighted, for other people got ‘a scare,’ as Tom says, and after all
our preparations we really felt a trifle disappointed that we had had
no chance to show our courage. At last a black mark was found
upon our door, and a great panic ensued, for we felt that now our
time had come.
"That night we put a tub of water at the bottom of the back-stairs,
and a pile of tin pans at the top of the front stairs, so that any
attempt to come up would produce a splash or a rattle. Bells were
hung on door handles, sticks of wood piled up in dark corners for
robbers to fall over, and the family retired, all armed and all
provided with lamps and matches.
"Jack and I left our doors open, and kept asking one another if we
did n’t hear something, till he fell asleep. I was wakeful and lay
listening to the crickets till the clock struck twelve; then I got
drowsy, and was just dropping off when the sound of steps outside
woke me up staring wide awake. Creeping to the window I was in
time to see by the dim moonlight a shadow glide round the corner
and disappear. A queer little thrill went over me, but I resolved to
keep quiet till I was sure something was wrong, for I had given so
many false alarms, I did n’t want Jack to laugh at me again.
Popping my head out of the door, I listened, and presently heard a
scraping sound near the shed.
" ‘There they are; but I won’t rouse the house till the bell rings or
the pans fall. The rogues can’t go far without a clatter of some sort,
and if we could only catch one of them we should get the reward
and a deal of glory,’ I said to myself, grasping my hatchet firmly.
"A door closed softly below, and a step came creeping towards the
back-stairs. Sure now of my prey, I was just about to scream ‘Jack!’
when something went splash into the tub at the foot of the
"In a minute every one was awake and up, for Jack fired his pistol
before he was half out of bed, and roared ‘Fire!’ so loud it roused
the house. Mother sprung her rattle, aunt rang her bell, Jip barked
like mad, and we all screamed, while from below came up a
regular Irish howl.
"Some one brought a lamp, and we peeped anxiously down, to see
our own stupid Biddy sitting in the tub wringing her hands and
" ‘Och, murther, and it ‘s kilt I am! The saints be about us! how iver
did I come forninst this say iv wather, just crapin in quiet afther a
bit iv sthroll wid Mike Mahoney, me own b’y, that ‘s to marry me
intirely, come Saint Patrick’s day nixt.’ "We laughed so we could
hardly fish the poor thing up, or listen while she explained that she
had slipped out of her window for a word with Mike, and found it
fastened when she wanted to come back, so she had sat on the
roof, trying to discover the cause of this mysterious barring out, till
she was tired, when she prowled round the house till she found a
cellar window unfastened, after all our care, and got in quite
cleverly, she thought; but the tub was a new arrangement which
she knew nothing about; and when she fell into the ‘say,’ she was
bewildered and could only howl.
"This was not all the damage either, for aunt fainted with the
fright, mother cut her hand with a broken lamp, the children took
cold hopping about on the wet stairs, Jip barked himself sick, I
sprained my ankle, and Jack not only smashed a looking-glass with
his bullets, but spoilt his pistol by the heavy charge put in it. After
the damages were repaired and the flurry was well over, Jack
confessed that he had marked the door for fun, and shut Biddy out
as a punishment for ‘gallivanting,’ of which he did n’t approve.
Such a rogue as that boy was!’ "
"But did n’t the robbers ever come?" cried Tom, enjoying the joke,
but feeling defrauded of the fight.
"Never, my dear; but we had our ‘scare,’ and tested our courage,
and that was a great satisfaction, of course," answered grandma,
"Well, I think you were the bravest of the lot. I ‘d like to have seen
you flourishing round there with your hatchet," added Tom,
admiringly, and the old lady looked as much pleased with the
compliment as if she had been a girl.
"I choose this," said Polly, holding up a long white kid glove,
shrunken and yellow with time, but looking as if it had a history.
"Ah, that now has a story worth telling!" cried grandma; adding,
proudly, "Treat that old glove respectfully, my children, for
Lafayette’s honored hand has touched it."
"Oh, grandma, did you wear it? Did you see him? Do tell us all
about it, and that will be the best of the whole," cried Polly, who
loved history, and knew a good deal about the gallant Frenchman
and his brave life.
Grandma loved to tell this story, and always assumed her most
imposing air to do honor to her theme. Drawing herself up,
therefore, she folded her hands, and after two or three little
"hems," began with an absent look, as if her eyes beheld a
far-away time, which brightened as she gazed.
"The first visit of Lafayette was before my time, of course, but I
heard so much about it from my grandfather that I really felt as if I
‘d seen it all. Our Aunt Hancock lived in the Governor’s house, on
Beacon Hill, at that time." Here the old lady bridled up still more,
for she was very proud of "our aunt." "Ah, my dears, those were
the good old times!" she continued, with a sigh. "Such dinners and
tea parties, such damask table cloths and fine plate, such solid,
handsome furniture and elegant carriages; aunt’s was lined with
red silk velvet, and when the coach was taken away from her at the
Governor’s death, she just ripped out the lining. and we girls had
spencers made of it. Dear heart, how well I remember playing in
aunt’s great garden, and chasing Jack up and down those winding
stairs; and my blessed father, in his plum-colored coat and knee
buckles, and the queue I used to tie up for him every day, handing
aunt in to dinner, looking so dignified and splendid."
Grandma seemed to forget her story for a minute, and become a
little girl again, among the playmates dead and gone so many
years. Polly motioned the others to be quiet, and no one spoke till
the old lady, with a long sigh, came back to the present, and went
"Well, as I was saying, the Governor wanted to give a breakfast to
the French officers, and Madam, who was a hospitable soul, got up
a splendid one for them. But by some mistake, or accident, it was
discovered at the last minute that there was no milk.
"A great deal was needed, and very little could be bought or
borrowed, so despair fell upon the cooks and maids, and the great
breakfast would have been a failure, if Madam, with the presence
of mind of her sex, had not suddenly bethought herself of the cows
feeding on the Common.
"To be sure, they belonged to her neighbors, and there was no time
to ask leave, but it was a national affair; our allies must be fed; and
feeling sure that her patriotic friends would gladly lay their cows
on the altar of their country, Madam Hancock covered herself with
glory, by calmly issuing the command, ‘Milk ’em!’ "It was done, to
the great astonishment of the cows, and the entire satisfaction of
the guests, among whom was Lafayette.
"This milking feat was such a good joke, that no one seems to have
remembered much about the great man, though one of his officers,
a count, signalized himself by getting very tipsy, and going to bed
with his boots and spurs on, which caused the destruction of aunt’s
best yellow damask coverlet, for the restless sleeper kicked it into
rags by morning.
"Aunt valued it very much, even in its tattered condition, and kept
it a long while, as a memorial of her distinguished guests.
"The time when I saw Lafayette was in 1825, and there were no
tipsy counts then. Uncle Hancock (a sweet man, my dears, though
some call him mean now-a-days) was dead, and aunt had married
"It was not at all the thing for her to do; however, that ‘s neither
here nor there. She was living in Federal Street at the time, a most
aristocratic street then, children, and we lived close by.
"Old Josiah Quincy was mayor of the city, and he sent aunt word
that the Marquis Lafayette wished to pay his respects to her.
"Of course she was delighted, and we all flew about to make ready
for him. Aunt was an old lady, but she made a grand toilet, and
was as anxious to look well as any girl."
"What did she wear?" asked Fan, with interest.
"She wore a steel-colored satin, trimmed with black lace, and on
her cap was pinned a Lafayette badge of white satin.
"I never shall forget how b-e-a-utifully she looked as she sat in
state on the front parlor sophy, right under a great portrait of her
first husband; and on either side of her sat Madam Storer and
Madam Williams, elegant to behold, in their stiff silks, rich lace,
and stately turbans. We don’t see such splendid old ladies
"I think we do sometimes," said Polly, slyly.
Grandma shook her head, but it pleased her very much to be
admired, for she had been a beauty in her day.
"We girls had dressed the house with flowers; old Mr. Coolidge
sent in a clothes-basket full. Joe Joy provided the badges, and aunt
got out some of the Revolutionary wine from the old Beacon Street
"I wore my green and white palmyrine, my hair bowed high, the
beautiful leg-o’-mutton sleeves that were so becoming, and these
"Well, by-and-by the General, escorted by the Mayor, drove up.
Dear me, I see him now! a little old man in nankeen trousers and
vest, a long blue coat and ruffled shirt, leaning on his cane, for he
was lame, and smiling and bowing like a true Frenchman.
"As he approached, the three old ladies rose, and courtesied with
the utmost dignity. Lafayette bowed first to the Governor’s picture,
then to the Governor’s widow, and kissed her hand.
"That was droll; for on the back of her glove was stamped
Lafayette’s likeness, and the gallant old gentleman kissed his own
"Then some of the young ladies were presented, and, as if to
escape any further self-salutations, the marquis kissed the pretty
girls on the cheek.
"Yes, my dears, here is just the spot where the dear old man
saluted me. I ‘m quite as proud of it now as I was then, for he was a
brave, good man, and helped us in our trouble.
"He did not stay long, but we were very merry, drinking his health,
receiving his compliments, and enjoying the honor he did us.
"Down in the street there was a crowd, of course, and when he left
they wanted to take out the horses and drag him home in triumph.
But he did n’t wish it; and while that affair was being arranged, we
girls had been pelting him with the flowers which we tore from the
vases, the walls, and our own topknots, to scatter over him.
"He liked that, and laughed, and waved his hand to us, while we
ran, and pelted, and begged him to come again.
"We young folks quite lost our heads that night, and I have n’t a
very clear idea of how I got home. The last thing I remember was
hanging out of the window with a flock of girls, watching the
carriage roll away, while the crowd cheered as if they were mad.
"Bless my heart, it seems as if I heard ’em now! ‘Hurrah for
Lafayette and Mayor Quincy! Hurrah for Madam Hancock and the
pretty girls! Hurrah for Col. May!’ ‘Three cheers for Boston! Now,
then! Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!’ "
And here the old lady stopped, out of breath, with her cap askew,
her spectacles on the end of her nose, and her knitting much the
worse for being waved enthusiastically in the air, while she hung
over the arm of her chair, shrilly cheering an imaginary Lafayette.
The girls clapped their hands, and Tom hurrahed with all his
might, saying, when he got his breath, "Lafayette was a regular old
trump; I always liked him."
"My dear! what a disrespectful way to speak of that great man,"
said grandma, shocked at Young America’s irreverence.
"Well, he was a trump, anyway, so why not call him one?" asked
Tom, feeling that the objectionable word was all that could be
"What queer gloves you wore then," interrupted Fanny, who had
been trying on the much-honored glove, and finding it a tight fit.
"Much better and cheaper than we have now," returned grandma,
ready to defend "the good old times" against every insinuation.
"You are an extravagant set now-a-days, and I really don’t know
what you are coming to. By the way, I ‘ve got somewhere two
letters written by two young ladies, one in 1517, and the other in
1868. The contrast between the two will amuse you, I think."
After a little search, grandma produced an old portfolio, and
selecting the papers, read the following letter, written by Anne
Boleyn before her marriage to Henry VIII, and now in the
possession of a celebrated antiquarian:
DEAR MARY, I have been in town almost a month, yet I cannot
say I have found anything in London extremely agreeable. We rise
so late in the morning, seldom before six o’clock, and sit up so late
at night, being scarcely in bed before ten, that I am quite sick of it;
and was it not for the abundance of fine things I am every day
getting I should be impatient of returning into the country.
My indulgent mother bought me, yesterday, at a merchant’s in
Cheapside, three new shifts, that cost fourteen pence an ell, and I
am to have a pair of new stuff shoes, for my Lord of Norfolk’s ball,
which will be three shillings.
The irregular life I have led since my coming to this place has
quite destroyed my appetite. You know I could manage a pound of
bacon and a tankard of good ale for my breakfast, in the country,
but in London I find it difficult to get through half the quantity,
though I must own I am generally eager enough for the dinner
hour, which is here delayed till twelve, in your polite society.
I played at hot cockles, last night, at my Lord of Leicester’s. The
Lord of Surrey was there, a very elegant young man, who sung a
song of his own composition, on the "Lord of Kildare’s Daughter."
It was much approved, and my brother whispered me that the fair
Geraldine, for so my Lord of Surrey calls his sweetheart, is the
finest woman of the age. I should be glad to see her, for I hear she
is good as she is beautiful.
Pray take care of the poultry during my absence. Poor things! I
always fed them myself; and if Margery has knitted me the
crimson worsted mittens, I should be glad if they were sent up the
Adieu, dear Mary. I am just going to mass, and you shall speedily
have the prayers, as you have now the kindest love of your own
"Up before six, and think it late to go to bed at ten! What a
countrified thing Anne must have been. Bacon and ale for
breakfast, and dinner at twelve; how very queer to live so!" cried
Fanny. "Lord Surrey and Lord Leicester sound fine, but hot
cockles, and red mittens, and shoes for three shillings, are horrid."
"I like it," said Polly, thoughtfully, "and I ‘m glad poor Anne had a
little fun before her troubles began. May I copy that letter some
"Yes, dear, and welcome. Now, here ‘s the other, by a modern girl
on her first visit to London. This will suit you better, Fan," and
grandma read what a friend had sent her as a pendant to Anne’s
little picture of London life long ago:
MY DEAREST CONSTANCE, After three months of intense
excitement I snatch a leisure moment to tell you how much I enjoy
my first visit to London. Having been educated abroad, it really
seems like coming to a strange city. At first the smoke, dirt and
noise were very disagreeable, but I soon got used to these things,
and now find all I see perfectly charming.
We plunged at once into a whirl of gayety and I have had no time
to think of anything but pleasure. It is the height of the season, and
every hour is engaged either in going to balls, concerts, theatres,
f^tes and church, or in preparing for them. We often go to two or
three parties in an evening, and seldom get home till morning, so
of course we don’t rise till noon next day. This leaves very little
time for our drives, shopping, and calls before dinner at eight, and
then the evening gayeties begin again.
At a ball at Lady Russell’s last night, I saw the Prince of Wales,
and danced in the set with him. He is growing stout, and looks
dissipated. I was disappointed in him, for neither in appearance
nor conversation was he at all princely. I was introduced to a very
brilliant and delightful young gentleman from America. I was
charmed with him, and rather surprised to learn that he wrote the
poems which were so much admired last season, also that he is the
son of a rich tailor. How odd these Americans are, with their
money, and talent, and independence!
O my dear, I must not forget to tell you the great event of my first
season. I am to be presented at the next Drawing Room! Think
how absorbed I must be in preparation for this grand affair.
Mamma is resolved that I shall do her credit, and we have spent
the last two weeks driving about from milliners to mantua-makers,
from merchants to jewellers. I am to wear white satin and plumes,
pearls and roses. My dress will cost a hundred pounds or more, and
is very elegant.
My cousins and friends lavish lovely things upon me, and you will
open your unsophisticated eyes when I display my silks and laces,
trinkets and French hats, not to mention billet deux, photographs,
and other relics of a young belle’s first season.
You ask if I ever think of home. I really have n’t time, but I do
sometimes long a little for the quiet, the pure air and the girlish
amusements I used to enjoy so much. One gets pale, and old, and
sadly fagged out, with all this dissipation, pleasant as it is. I feel
quite blas, already.
If you could send me the rosy cheeks, bright eyes, and gay spirits I
always had at home, I ‘d thank you. As you cannot do that, please
send me a bottle of June rain water, for my maid tells me it is
better than any cosmetic for the complexion, and mine is getting
ruined by late hours.
I fancy some fruit off our own trees would suit me, for I have no
appetite, and mamma is quite desol,e about me. One cannot live
on French cookery without dyspepsia, and one can get nothing
simple here, for food, like everything else, is regulated by the
Adieu, ma chSre, I must dress for church. I only wish you could
see my new hat and go with me, for Lord Rockingham promised to
Adieu, yours eternally, FLORENCE.
"Yes, I do like that better, and I wish I had been in this girl’s place,
don’t you, Polly?" said Fan, as grandma took off her glasses.
"I should love to go to London, and have a good time, but I don’t
think I should care about spending ever so much money, or going
to Court. Maybe I might when I got there, for I do like fun and
splendor," added honest Polly, feeling that pleasure was a very
"Grandma looks tired; let ‘s go and play in the dwying-woom," said
Maud, who found the conversation getting beyond her depth.
"Let us all kiss and thank grandma, for amusing us so nicely,
before we go," whispered Polly. Maud and Fanny agreed, and
grandma looked so gratified by their thanks, that Tom followed
suit, merely waiting till "those girls" were out of sight, to give the
old lady a hearty hug, and a kiss on the very cheek Lafayette had
When he reached the play-room Polly was sitting in the swing,
saying, very earnestly, "I always told you it was nice up in
grandma’s room, and now you see it is. I wish you ‘d go oftener;
she admires to have you, and likes to tell stories and do pleasant
things, only she thinks you don’t care for her quiet sort of fun. I do,
anyway, and I think she ‘s the kindest, best old lady that ever lived,
and I love her dearly!"
"I did n’t say she was n’t, only old people are sort of tedious and
fussy, so I keep out of their way," said Fanny.
"Well, you ought not to, and you miss lots of pleasant times. My
mother says we ought to be kind and patient and respectful to all
old folks just because they are old, and I always mean to be."
"Your mother ‘s everlastingly preaching," muttered Fan, nettled by
the consciousness of her own shortcomings with regard to
"She don’t preach!" cried Polly, firing up like a flash; "she only
explains things to us, and helps us be good, and never scolds, and I
‘d rather have her than any other mother in the world, though she
don’t wear velvet cloaks and splendid bonnets, so now!"
"Go it, Polly!" called Tom, who was gracefully hanging head
downward from the bar put up for his special benefit.
"Polly ‘s mad! Polly ‘s mad!" sung Maud, skipping rope round the
"If Mr. Sydney could see you now he would n’t think you such an
angel any more," added Fanny, tossing a bean-bag and her head at
the same time.
Polly was mad, her face was very red, her eyes very bright and her
lips twitched, but she held her tongue and began to swing as hard
as she could, fearing to say something she would be sorry for
afterward. For a few minutes no one spoke, Tom whistled and
Maud hummed but Fan and Polly were each soberly thinking of
something, for they had reached an age when children, girls
especially, begin to observe, contrast, and speculate upon the
words, acts, manners, and looks of those about them. A good deal
of thinking goes on in the heads of these shrewd little folks, and
the elders should mind their ways, for they get criticised pretty
sharply and imitated very closely.
Two little things had happened that day, and the influence of a few
words, a careless action, was still working in the active minds of
Mr. Sydney had called, and while Fanny was talking with him she
saw his eye rest on Polly, who sat apart watching the faces round
her with the modest, intelligent look which many found so
attractive. At that minute Madam Shaw came in, and stopped to
speak to the little girl. Polly rose at once, and remained standing
till the old lady passed on.
"Are you laughing at Polly’s prim ways?" Fanny had asked, as she
saw Mr. Sydney smile.
"No, I am admiring Miss Polly’s fine manners," he answered in a
grave, respectful tone, which had impressed Fanny very much, for
Mr. Sydney was considered by all the girls as a model of good
breeding, and that indescribable something which they called
Fanny wished she had done that little thing, and won that
approving look, for she valued the young man’s good opinion,
because it was so hard to win, by her set at least. So, when Polly
talked about old people, it recalled this scene and made Fan cross.
Polly was remembering how, when Mrs. Shaw came home that day
in her fine visiting costume, and Maud ran to welcome her with
unusual affection, she gathered up her lustrous silk and pushed the
little girl away saying, impatiently, "Don’t touch me, child, your
hands are dirty." Then the thought had come to Polly that the
velvet cloak did n’t cover a right motherly heart, that the fretful
face under the nodding purple plumes was not a tender motherly
face, and that the hands in the delicate primrose gloves had put
away something very sweet and precious. She thought of another
woman, whose dress never was too fine for little wet cheeks to lie
against, or loving little arms to press; whose face, in spite of many
lines and the gray hairs above it, was never sour or unsympathetic
when children’s eyes turned towards it; and whose hands never
were too busy, too full or too nice to welcome and serve the little
sons and daughters who freely brought their small hopes and fears,
sins and sorrows, to her, who dealt out justice and mercy with such
wise love. "Ah, that ‘s a mother!" thought Polly, as the memory
came warm into her heart, making her feel very rich, and pity
Maud for being so poor.
This it was that caused such sudden indignation at Fanny’s dreadful
speech, and this it was that made quick-tempered Polly try to calm
her wrath before she used toward Fanny’s mother the disrespectful
tone she so resented toward her own. As the swing came down
after some dozen quick journeys to and fro, Polly seemed to have
found a smile somewhere up aloft, for she looked toward Fan,
saying pleasantly, as she paused a little in her airy exercise, "I ‘m
not mad now, shall I come and toss with you?"
"No, I ‘ll come and swing with you," answered Fanny, quick to feel
the generous spirit of her friend.
"You are an angel, and I ‘ll never be so rude again," she added, as
Polly’s arm came round her, and half the seat was gladly offered.
"No, I ain’t; but if I ever get at all like one, it will be ‘mother’s
preaching’ that did it," said Polly, with a happy laugh.
"Good for you, Polly Peacemaker," cried Tom, quoting his father,
and giving them a grand push as the most appropriate way of
expressing his approbation of the sentiment.
Nothing more was said; but from that day there slowly crept into
the family more respect for grandma, more forbearance with her
infirmities, more interest in her little stories, and many a pleasant
gossip did the dear old lady enjoy with the children as they
gathered round her fire, solitary so long.