Read Ebook: Aunt Madge's Story by May Sophie

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Ebook has 549 lines and 30048 words, and 11 pages

The little bits of girls had afternoon parties that summer; it was quite the fashion; and not long after this Madam Allen made one for Fel. Everybody said it was the nicest party we had had; for Tempy Ann made sailor-boy doughnuts, with sugar sprinkled on, and damson tarts, and lemonade, to say nothing of "sandiges," with chicken in the middle. I loved Fel dearly, I know I did; but by fits and starts I was so full of envy that I had to go off by myself and pout.

I was willing nice things should fall to Fel's lot; but I wanted just as nice ones myself.

Fel showed the girls her "pairsol," and they all said they meant to have one too; all but me; I could only stand and look on, with my eyeballs just ready to pop out of my head.

I had a dismal fit just before supper, and went into Grandpa Harrington's room, back of the parlor. He was always fond of little folks, but very queer, as I have told you. He had a fire in the fireplace, and was sitting before it, though it was summer. He looked up when I went in, and said, "How do, darling? My feet are as cold as a dead lamb's tongue; does your father keep sheep?"

Next minute he said,--

"My feet are as cold as a dog's nose; does your father keep a dog?"

That was the way he rambled on from one thing to another. But when he saw I was low-spirited, and found by questioning me that I needed a parasol, and couldn't live long without one, he took me on his knee, and said kindly,--

"Never mind it, Pet; you shall have a parasol. I will give you one."

I could hardly speak for joy. I did not feel ashamed of myself till afterwards, for Grandpa Harrington did not seem like other people, and I saw no harm in whining to him about my troubles.

LIZE JANE.

But my happiness did not last long. Grandpa Harrington never thought of my parasol again from that day to the day he died; and little witch and try-patience though I was, I dared not remind him of his promise, still less tell my mother about it.

And now I come to the naughty story.

I could not always have Fel for a playmate; she was too delicate to be racing about from morning till night as I did, and when she had to stay in the house, I found other girls to romp with me. Sometimes, especially if I felt rather wicked, I enjoyed Eliza Jane Bean, a girl two or three years older than myself. There was a bad fascination about "Lize." When she fixed her big black eyes upon you, she made you think of all sorts of delightful things you wanted to do, only they were strictly forbidden. Her father and mother were not very good people, and did not go to church Sundays. They lived in a low red house near the Gordons. You never saw it, children; it was pulled down ever so long ago, and used for kindlings. People called the house "the Bean Pod," because there were nine little beans in it beside the big ones. Rattlety bang! Harum scarum! There was always a great noise in that house, and people called it "the rattling of the beans." It was well it stood on a corner lot, and poor old Mr. Gordon was so deaf.

Lize Jane used to come to our house for currants. My mamma did not like to have me see much of her, but could not refuse the currants, for our bushes were loaded. It seemed as if the family must have lived half the summer on currants and molasses; for almost every night there was Lize Jane with her big tin pail. It had holes in the bottom, and the juice used to run out sometimes upon her dress; but it didn't make much difference, for her dress was never clean.

One night she came for currants when they were almost gone. Mother had been sick, and was very late about making jelly. She told Eliza Jane she couldn't let her come any more after that night; the rest of the fruit must be saved for our own use. Lize Jane said nothing, but she rolled her black eyes round towards me, and I felt a little ashamed, for I knew she thought mother was stingy, and that was why she rolled her eyes.

I went into the kitchen, and said to Ruth,--

"Don't you want me to pick you a bowl of currants?"

Of course she did. She didn't know Lize Jane was there, or she wouldn't have been so pleased and so ready to get me my sun-bonnet. She had to reach it down from a hook in the ceiling. That was the place where Ned hung it when he wanted to "pester" me; he did it with an old rake handle.

When I was going anywhere to meet Lize Jane, I always felt as if I was stealing raisins. I never exactly stole raisins; but when my mother said I might go to the box and get two or three, I had sometimes taken a whole handful. I knew by the pricking of my conscience that that was wrong, and in the same way I knew that this was wrong too. Mother was in the green chamber, covering an ottoman with green carpeting, so she wouldn't see me from that side of the house.

"What do you do that for, Lize Jane? It takes so long."

"I know it; it takes foreverlastin'; but mother told me to, so'st I could get more into my pail."

I opened my eyes.

"She told me to get my pail chuck full. She didn't use to care, but now the currants are most gone, and she wants all she can get."

I said nothing, but I remember I thought Mrs. Bean was a queer woman, to want our very last currants.

"Sh'an't you have your party before they're all gone?" said Lize Jane.

"What party?"

"Why, the one you're going to have."

I suppose she knew my heart was aching for one.

"I want a party dreffully," said I, "but mamma won't let me."

"Won't let you?" cried Lize Jane, in surprise. "Why, Fel Allen had hers last week."

"I know it, and Tempy Ann made us some lemonade."

"Did she? I wish I'd been there," said Lize, pursing her lips. "But Fel lives in such a monstrous nice house, and wouldn't ask me to her party; that's why. Mother says I hadn't oughter care, though, for when she dies she'll lay as low as me."

I did not understand this speech of Mrs. Bean's, which Lize Jane repeated with such a solemn snap of her black eyes; but it came to me years afterwards, and I think it the worst teaching a mother could give her little child. No wonder Lize Jane was full of envy and spite.

"I can't, if I don't have one, Lize Jane."

"You're a-makin' believe, Mag Parlin. You will have one; how can you help it, with a garden full of gooseb'ries and rubub?"

"And thimbleberries, too," added I, surveying the premises with a gloomy eye. We certainly had enough to eat, and it was a very strange thing that I couldn't give a party.

"Has your mother got any cake in the house?" added Lize.

"Your mother, seems to me, she never lets you do a thing," returned Lize Jane, in a pitying tone. "Ain't you goin' to have a silk pairsol, like Fel Allen's? I should think you might."

She had driven the nail straight to the mark that time. I could have wailed; but was but not noticed her then, particularly,)--wherein you will see him becoming doubtful, and of little faith, or distorted faith, "miscreant"; but the lady Alice no wise doubtful; wherefore she becomes worthy to give the shield of England its "tressure" and St. George's company their watchword, as aforesaid.

But her story must not be told in the same letter with that of our modern British courage; and now that I think of it, St. George's had better be first told in February, when, I hope, some crocuses will be up, and an amaryllis or two, St. George having much interest in both.

NOTES AND CORRESPONDENCE.

He says also that he and his mates must do many things in a hurry.

I know it. But do they suppose such compulsion is a law of Heaven? or that, if not, it is likely to last?

I was greatly pleased by Mr. Affleck's letter, and would have told him so; only he gave me his address in Gordon Street, without telling me of what town. His post-mark was Galashiels, which I tried, and Edinburgh; but only with embarrassment to Her Majesty's service.

Another communication, very na?ve and honest, came from a Republican of literary tastes, who wished to assist me in the development of my plans in 'Fors;' and, in the course of resulting correspondence, expressed his willingness to answer any questions I might wish to put to him. I answered that I imagined myself, as far as I thought needful for me, acquainted with his opinions; but that perhaps he might wish to know something more definite about mine, and that if he liked to put any questions to me, I would do my best to reply intelligibly. Whereupon, apparently much pleased, he sent me the following eleven interrogations, to each of which I have accordingly given solution, to the best of my ability.

Ans. Certainly. Else would man be more wretched than the beasts, who at least have dens of their own.

Ans. It never was, and never can be. So we need not ask whether it should be.

Ans. Certainly, when the other men are not strong enough to tax the million.

Ans. Heaven forbid! It is not everybody one would set to choose a horse, or a pig. How much less a member of Parliament?

Ans. Certainly not. Laws are usually most beneficial in operation on the people who would have most strongly objected to their enactment.

Ans. The statement is untrue. A railway navvy consumes, usually, about six times as much as an average member of Parliament; and I know nothing which members of Parliament kill, except time, which other people would not kill, if they were allowed to. It is the Parliamentary tendency to preservation, rather than to destruction, which I have mostly heard complained of.

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