John Lothrop Motley - "History of the United Netherlands, 1602 03"

John Lothrop Motley - "History of the United Netherlands, 1603 04"

Allen Johnson - "Jefferson and his Colleagues, A Chronicle of the Virginia Dynasty"

Thomas Malthus - "Importation of Foreign Corn"

New Philadelphia Book Publisher Highlights Local Talent
Book and Publishing News from Publishers Newswire(tm)

Looking for Child to be on Cover of a New Book, 'The Model Child'
PHILADELPHIA, Pa. -- The Philadelphia literary world will celebrate the launch of two new players today, April 10th: Kay Square Press, a new publishing company focused on Philadelphia-area artists, their stories, and their art; and Kay Square's first release, 'With the Rich and Mighty: Emlen Etting of Philadelphia' (ISBN: 978-0-9815129-0-7), a critical biography by Kenneth C. Kaleta.

FlatSigned Press Alleges Don Imus Remarks Damage Legacy of President Gerald R. Ford
NEW YORK, N.Y. -- Nathan Yungerberg, an accomplished model scout and professional child photographer is launching a nation-wide casting call to find the cover model for his highly anticipated book release, 'The Model Child: A Parents Guide to the Child Modeling Industry' (ISBN: 978-0-9817018-0-6).

Books: An Old fashioned Girl

L >> Louisa May Alcott >> An Old fashioned Girl




"I 've heard of Miss Mills before. But I should think she would get
tired to death, sitting there making hoods and petticoats day after
day," said Fanny, after thinking over Jenny's story for a few
minutes, for seeing the girl seemed to bring it nearer, and make it
more real to her.

"But she don't sit there all the time. People come to her with their
troubles, and she goes to them with all sorts of help, from soap and
soup, to shrouds for the dead and comfort for the living. I go with
her sometimes, and it is more exciting than any play, to see and
hear the lives and stories of the poor."

"How can you bear the dreadful sights and sounds, the bad air, and
the poverty that can't be cured?"

"But it is n't all dreadful. There are good and lovely things among
them, if one only has eyes to see them. It makes me grateful and
contented, shows me how rich I am, and keeps me ready to do all I
can for these poor souls."

"My good Polly!" and Fanny gave her friends arm an affectionate
squeeze, wondering if it was this alone that had worked the change
in Polly.

"You have seen two of my new friends, Miss Mills and Jenny, now
I 'll show you two more," said Polly, presently, as they reached a
door, and she led the way up several flights of public stairs.
"Rebecca Jeffrey is a regularly splendid girl, full of talent; she
won't let us call it genius; she will be famous some day, I know,
she is so modest, and yet so intent on her work. Lizzie Small is an
engraver, and designs the most delightful little pictures. Becky and
she live together, and take care of one another in true Damon and
Pythias style. This studio is their home, they work, eat, sleep, and
live here, going halves in everything. They are all alone in the
world, but as happy and independent as birds; real friends, whom
nothing will part."

"Let a lover come between them, and their friendship won't last
long," said Fanny.

"I think it will. Take a look at them, and you 'll change your mind,"
answered Polly, tapping at a door, on which two modest cards
were tacked.

"Come in!" said a voice, and obeying, Fanny found herself in a
large, queerly furnished room, lighted from above, and occupied
by two girls. One stood before a great clay figure, in a corner. This
one was tall, with a strong face, keen eyes, short, curly hair, and a
fine head. Fanny was struck at once by this face and figure, though
the one was not handsome, and the other half hidden by a great
pinafore covered with clay. At a table where the light was clearest,
sat a frail-looking girl, with a thin face, big eyes, and pale hair, a
dreamy, absorbed little person, who bent over a block, skillfully
wielding her tools.

"Becky and Bess, how do you do? This is my friend, Fanny Shaw.
We are out on a rampage; so go on with your work, and let us lazy
ones look on and admire."

As Polly spoke, both girls looked up and nodded, smilingly; Bess
gave Fan the one easy-chair; Becky took an artistic survey of the
new-comer, with eyes that seemed to see everything; then each
went on with her work, and all began to talk.

"You are just what I want, Polly. Pull up your sleeve, and give me
an arm while you sit; the muscles here are n't right, and you 've got
just what I want," said Becky, slapping the round arm of the statue,
at which Fan was gazing with awe.

"How do you get on?" asked Polly, throwing off her cloak, and
rolling up her sleeves, as if going to washing.

"Slowly. The idea is working itself clear, and I follow as fast as my
hands can. Is the face better, do you think?" said Becky, taking off
a wet cloth, and showing the head of the statue.

"How beautiful it is!" cried Fanny, staring at it with increased
respect.

"What does it mean to you?" asked Rebecca, turning to her with a
sudden shine in her keen eyes.

"I don't know whether it is meant for a saint or a muse, a goddess
or a fate; but to me it is only a beautiful woman, bigger, lovelier,
and more imposing than any woman I ever saw," answered Fanny,
slowly, trying to express the impression the statue made upon her.

Rebecca smiled brightly, and Bess looked round to nod
approvingly, but Polly clapped her hands, and said, "Well done,
Fan! I did n't think you 'd get the idea so well, but you have, and I
'm proud of your insight. Now I 'll tell you, for Becky will let me,
since you have paid her the compliment of understanding her
work. Some time ago we got into a famous talk about what women
should be, and Becky said she 'd show us her idea of the coming
woman. There she is, as you say, bigger, lovelier, and more
imposing than any we see nowadays; and at the same time, she is a
true woman. See what a fine forehead, yet the mouth is both firm
and tender, as if it could say strong, wise things, as well as teach
children and kiss babies. We could n't decide what to put in the
hands as the most appropriate symbol. What do you say?"

"Give her a sceptre: she would make a fine queen," answered
Fanny.

"No, we have had enough of that; women have been called queens
a long time, but the kingdom given them is n't worth ruling,"
answered Rebecca.

"I don't think it is nowadays," said Fanny, with a tired sort of sigh.

"Put a man's hand in hers to help her along, then," said Polly,
whose happy fortune it had been to find friends and helpers in
father and brothers.

"No; my woman is to stand alone, and help herself," said Rebecca,
decidedly.

"She 's to be strong-minded, is she?" and Fanny's lip curled a little
as she uttered the misused words.

"Yes, strong-minded, strong-hearted, strong-souled, and
strong-bodied; that is why I made her larger than the miserable,
pinched-up woman of our day. Strength and beauty must go
together. Don't you think these broad shoulders can bear burdens
without breaking down, these hands work well, these eyes see
clearly, and these lips do something besides simper and gossip?"

Fanny was silent; but a voice from Bess's corner said, "Put a child
in her arms, Becky."

"Not that even, for she is to be something more than a nurse."

"Give her a ballot-box," cried a new voice, and turning round, they
saw an odd-looking woman perched on a sofa behind them.

"Thank you for the suggestion, Kate. I 'll put that with the other
symbols at her feet; for I 'm going to have needle, pen, palette, and
broom somewhere, to suggest the various talents she owns, and the
ballot-box will show that she has earned the right to use them.
How goes it?" and Rebecca offered a clay-daubed hand, which the
new-comer cordially shook.

"Great news, girls! Anna is going to Italy!" cried Kate, tossing up
her bonnet like a school-boy.

"Oh, how splendid! Who takes her? Has she had a fortune left her?
Tell all about it," exclaimed the girls, gathering round the speaker.

"Yes, it is splendid; just one of the beautiful things that does
everybody heaps of good, it is so generous and so deserved. You
know Anna has been longing to go; working and hoping for a
chance, and never getting it, till all of a sudden Miss Burton is
inspired to invite the girl to go with her for several years to Italy.
Think of the luck of that dear soul, the advantages she 'll have, the
good it will do her, and, best of all, the lovely way in which it
comes to her. Miss Burton wants, her as a friend, asks nothing of
her but her company, and Anna will go through fire and water for
her, of course. Now, is n't that fine?"

It was good to see how heartily these girls sympathized in their
comrade's good fortune. Polly danced all over the room, Bess and
Becky hugged one another, and Kate laughed with her eyes full,
while even Fanny felt a glow of, pride and pleasure at the kind act.

"Who is that?" she whispered to Polly, who had subsided into a
corner.

"Why, it Is Kate King, the authoress. Bless me, how rude not to
introduce you! Here, my King, is an admirer of yours, Fanny Shaw,
and my well beloved friend," cried Polly, presenting Fan, who
regarded the shabby young woman with as much respect, as if she
had been arrayed in velvet and ermine; for Kate had written a
successful book by accident, and happened to be the fashion, just
then.

"It 's time for lunch, girls, and I brought mine along with me, it 's
so much jollier to eat in sisterhood. Let 's club together, and have a
revel," said Kate, producing a bag of oranges, and several big,
plummy buns.

"We 've got sardines, crackers, and cheese," said Bess, clearing off
a table with all speed.

"Wait a bit, and I 'll add my share," cried Polly, and catching up
her cloak, she ran off to the grocery store near by.

"You 'll be shocked at our performances, Miss Shaw, but you can
call it a picnic, and never tell what dreadful things you saw us do,"
said Rebecca, polishing a paint knife by rubbing it up and down in
a pot of ivy, while Kate spread forth the feast in several odd plates,
and a flat shell or two.

"Let us have coffee to finish off with; put on the pot, Bess, and
skim the milk," added Becky, as she produced cups, mugs, and a
queer little vase, to supply drinking vessels for the party.

"Here 's nuts, a pot of jam, and some cake. Fan likes sweet things,
and we want to be elegant when we have company," said Polly,
flying in again, and depositing her share on the table.

"Now, then, fall to, ladies, and help yourselves. Never mind if the
china don't hold out; take the sardines by their little tails, and wipe
your fingers on my brown-paper napkins," said Kate, setting the
example with such a relish, that the others followed it in a gale of
merriment.

Fanny had been to many elegant lunches, but never enjoyed one
more than that droll picnic in the studio; for there was a freedom
about it that was charming, an artistic flavor to everything, and
such a spirit of good-will and gayety, that she felt at home at once.
As they ate, the others talked and she listened, finding it as
interesting as any romance to hear these young women discuss
their plans, ambitions, successes, and defeats. It was a new world
to her, and they seemed a different race of creatures from the girls
whose lives were spent in dress, gossip, pleasure, or ennui. They
were girls still, full of spirits fun, and youth; but below the
light-heartedness each cherished a purpose, which seemed to
ennoble her womanhood, to give her a certain power, a sustaining
satisfaction, a daily stimulus, that led her on to daily effort, and in
time to some success in circumstance or character, which was
worth all the patience, hope, and labor of her life.

Fanny was just then in the mood to feel the beauty of this, for the
sincerest emotion she had ever known was beginning to make her
dissatisfied with herself, and the aimless life she led. "Men must
respect such girls as these," she thought; "yes, and love them too,
for in spite of their independence, they are womanly. I wish I had a
talent to live for, if it would do as much for me as it does for them.
It is this sort of thing that is improving Polly, that makes her
society interesting to Sydney, and herself so dear to every one.
Money can't buy these things for me, and I want them very much."

As these thoughts were passing through her mind, Fanny was
hearing all sorts of topics discussed with feminine enthusiasm and
frankness. Art, morals, politics, society, books, religion,
housekeeping, dress, and economy, for the minds and tongues
roved from subject to subject with youthful rapidity, and seemed to
get something from the dryest and the dullest.

"How does the new book come on?" asked Polly, sucking her
orange in public with a composure which would have scandalized
the good ladies of "Cranford."

"Better than it deserves. My children, beware of popularity; it is a
delusion and a snare; it puffeth up the heart of man, and especially
of woman; it blindeth the eyes to faults; it exalteth unduly the
humble powers of the victim; it is apt to be capricious, and just as
one gets to liking the taste of this intoxicating draught, it suddenly
faileth, and one is left gasping, like a fish out of water," and Kate
emphasized her speech by spearing a sardine with a penknife, and
eating it with a groan.

"It won't hurt you much, I guess; you have worked and waited so
long, a large dose will do you good," said Rebecca, giving her a
generous spoonful of jam, as if eager to add as much sweetness as
possible to a life that had not been an easy one.

"When are you and Becky going to dissolve partnership?" asked
Polly, eager for news of all.

"Never! George knows he can't have one without the other, and has
not suggested such a thing as parting us. There is always room in
my house for Becky, and she lets me do as she would if she was in
my place," answered Bess, with a look which her friend answered
by a smile.

"The lover won't separate this pair of friends, you see," whispered
Polly to Fan. "Bess is to be married in the spring, and Becky is to
live with her."

"By the way, Polly, I 've got some tickets for you. People are
always sending me such things, and as I don't care for them, I 'm
glad to make them over to you young and giddy infants. There are
passes for the statuary exhibition, Becky shall have those, here are
the concert tickets for you, my musical girl; and that is for a course
of lectures on literature, which I 'll keep for myself."

As Kate dealt out the colored cards to the grateful girls, Fanny took
a good look at her, wondering if the time would ever come when
women could earn a little money and success, without paying such
a heavy price for them; for Kate looked sick, tired, and too early
old. Then her eye went to the unfinished statue, and she said,
impulsively, "I hope you 'll put that in marble, and show us what
we ought to be."

"I wish I could!" And an intense desire shone in Rebecca's face, as
she saw her faulty work, and felt how fair her model was.

For a minute, the five young women sat silent looking up at the
beautiful, strong figure before them, each longing to see it done,
and each unconscious that she was helping, by her individual effort
and experience, to bring the day when their noblest ideal of
womanhood should be embodied in flesh and blood, not clay.

The city bells rung one, and Polly started up.

"I must go, for I promised a neighbor of mine a lesson at two."

"I thought this was a holiday," said Fanny.

"So it is, but this is a little labor of love, and does n't spoil the day
at all. The child has talent, loves music, and needs help. I can't
give her money, but I can teach her; so I do, and she is the most
promising pupil I have. Help one another, is part of the religion of
our sisterhood, Fan."

"I must put you in a story, Polly. I want a heroine, and you will
do," said Kate.

"Me! why, there never was such a humdrum, unromantic thing as I
am," cried Polly, amazed.

"I 've booked you, nevertheless, so in you go; but you may add as
much romance as you like, it 's time you did."

"I 'm ready for it when it comes, but it can't be forced, you know,"
and Polly blushed and smiled as if some little spice of that
delightful thing had stolen into her life, for all its prosaic seeming.

Fanny was amused to see that the girls did not kiss at parting, but
shook hands in a quiet, friendly fashion, looking at one another
with eyes that said more than the most "gushing" words.

"I like your friends very much, Polly. I was afraid I should find
them mannish and rough, or sentimental and conceited. But they
are simple, sensible creatures, full of talent, and all sorts of fine
things. I admire and respect them, and want to go again, if I may."

"Oh, Fan, I am so glad! I hoped you 'd like them, I knew they 'd do
you good, and I 'll take you any time, for you stood the test better
than I expected. Becky asked me to bring you again, and she
seldom does that for fashionable young ladies, let me tell you."

"I want to be ever so much better, and I think you and they might
show me how," said Fanny, with a traitorous tremble in her voice.

"We 'll show you the sunny side of poverty and work, and that is a
useful lesson for any one, Miss Mills says," answered Polly,
hoping that Fan would learn how much the poor can teach the rich,
and what helpful friends girls may be to one another.

CHAPTER XIV NIPPED IN THE BUD

ON the evening of Fan's visit, Polly sat down before her fire with a
resolute and thoughtful aspect. She pulled her hair down, turned
her skirt back, put her feet on the fender, and took Puttel into her
lap, all of which arrangements signified that something very
important had got to be thought over and settled. Polly did not
soliloquize aloud, as heroines on the stage and in books have a
way of doing, but the conversation she held with herself was very
much like this: "I 'm afraid there is something in it. I 've tried to
think it 's nothing but vanity or imagination, yet I can't help seeing
a difference, and feeling as if I ought not to pretend that I don't. I
know it 's considered proper for girls to shut their eyes and let
things come to a crisis no matter how much mischief is done. But I
don't think it 's doing as we 'd be done by, and it seems a great deal
more honest to show a man that you don't love him before he has
entirely lost his heart. The girls laughed at me when I said so, and
they declared that it would be a very improper thing to do, but I 've
observed that they don't hesitate to snub 'ineligible parties,' as they
call poor, very young, or unpopular men. It 's all right then, but
when a nice person comes it 's part of the fun to let him go on to
the very end, whether the girls care for him or not. The more
proposals, the more credit. Fan says Trix always asks when she
comes home after the summer excursions, 'How many birds have
you bagged?' as if men were partridges. What wicked creatures we
are! some of us at least. I wonder why such a love of conquest was
put into us? Mother says a great deal of it is owing to bad
education nowadays, but some girls seem born for the express
purpose of making trouble and would manage to do it if they lived
in a howling wilderness. I 'm afraid I 've got a spice of it, and if I
had the chance, should be as bad as any of them. I 've tried it and
liked it, and maybe this is the consequence of that night's fun."

Here Polly leaned back and looked up at the little mirror over the
chimney-piece, which was hung so that it reflected the faces of
those about the fire. In it Polly saw a pair of telltale eyes looking
out from a tangle of bright brown hair, cheeks that flushed and
dimpled suddenly as the fresh mouth smiled with an expression of
conscious power, half proud, half ashamed, and as pretty to see as
the coquettish gesture with which she smoothed back her curls and
flourished a white hand. For a minute she regarded the pleasant
picture while visions of girlish romances and triumphs danced
through her head, then she shook her hair all over her face and
pushed her chair out of range of the mirror, saying, with a droll
mixture of self-reproach and self-approval in her tone; "Oh,
Puttel, Puttel, what a fool I am!"

Puss appeared to endorse the sentiment by a loud purr and a
graceful wave of her tail, and Polly returned to the subject from
which these little vanities had beguiled her.

"Just suppose it is true, that he does ask me, and I say yes! What a
stir it would make, and what fun it would be to see the faces of the
girls when it came out! They all think a great deal of him because
he is so hard to please, and almost any of them would feel
immensely flattered if he liked them, whether they chose to marry
him or not. Trix has tried for years to fascinate him, and he can't
bear her, and I 'm so glad! What a spiteful thing I am. Well, I can't
help it, she does aggravate me so!" And Polly gave the cat such a
tweak of the ear that Puttel bounced out of her lap in high
dudgeon.

"It don't do to think of her, and I won't!" said Polly to herself,
setting her lips with a grim look that was not at all becoming.
"What an easy life I should have plenty of money, quantities of
friends, all sorts of pleasures, and no work, no poverty, no cold
shoulders or patched boots. I could do so much for all at home
how I should enjoy that!" And Polly let her thoughts revel in the
luxurious future her fancy painted. It was a very bright picture, but
something seemed amiss with it, for presently she sighed and
shook her head, thinking sorrowfully, "Ah, but I don't love him,
and I 'm afraid I never can as I ought! He 's very good, and
generous, and wise, and would be kind, I know, but somehow I
can't imagine spending my life with him; I 'm so afraid I should get
tired of him, and then what should I do? Polly Sydney don't sound
well, and Mrs. Arthur Sydney don't seem to fit me a bit. Wonder
how it would seem to call him 'Arthur'?" And Polly said it under
her breath, with a look over her shoulder to be sure no one heard it.
"It 's a pretty name, but rather too fine, and I should n't dare to say
'Syd,' as his sister does. I like short, plain, home-like names, such
as Will, Ned, or Tom. No, no, I can never care for him, and it 's no
use to try!" The exclamation broke from Polly as if a sudden
trouble had seized her, and laying her head down on her knees, she
sat motionless for many minutes.

When she looked up, her face wore an expression which no one
had ever seen on it before; a look of mingled pain and patience, as
if some loss had come to her, and left the bitterness of regret
behind.

"I won't think of myself, or try to mend one mistake by making
another," she said with a heavy sigh. "I 'll do what I can for Fan,
and not stand between her and a chance of happiness. Let me see,
how can I begin? I won't walk with him any more; I 'll dodge and
go roundabout ways, so that we can't meet. I never had much faith
in the remarkable coincidence of his always happening home to
dinner just as I go to give the Roths their lesson. The fact is, I like
to meet him, I am glad to be seen with him, and put on airs, I dare
say, like a vain goose as I am. Well, I won't do it any more, and
that will spare Fan one affliction. Poor dear, how I must have
worried her all this time, and never guessed it. She has n't been
quite as kind as ever; but when she got sharp, I fancied it was
dyspepsia. Oh, me! I wish the other trouble could be cured as
easily as this."

Here puss showed an amiable desire to forgive and forget, and
Polly took her up, saying aloud: "Puttel, when missis abuses you,
play it 's dyspepsia, and don't bear malice, because it 's a very
trying disease, my dear."

Then, going back to her thoughts, she rambled on again; "If he
does n't take that hint, I will give him a stronger one, for I will not
have matters come to a crisis, though I can't deny that my wicked
vanity strongly tempts me to try and 'bag a bird' just for the
excitement and credit of the thing. Polly, I 'm ashamed of you!
What would your blessed mother say to hear such expressions
from you? I 'd write and tell her all the worry, only it would n't do
any good, and would only trouble her. I 've no right to tell Fan's
secrets, and I 'm ashamed to tell mine. No, I 'll leave mother in
peace, and fight it out alone. I do think Fan would suit him
excellently by and by. He has known her all her life, and has a
good influence over her. Love would do so much toward making
her what she might be; it 's a shame to have the chance lost just
because he happens to see me. I should think she 'd hate me; but I
'll show her that she need n't, and do all I can to help her; for she
has been so good to me nothing shall ever make me forget that. It
is a delicate and dangerous task, but I guess I can manage it; at any
rate I 'll try, and have nothing to reproach myself with if things do
go 'contrary.' "

What Polly thought of, as she lay back in her chair, with her eyes
shut, and a hopeless look on her face, is none of our business,
though we might feel a wish to know what caused a tear to gather
slowly from time to time under her lashes, and roll down on
Puttel's Quaker-colored coat. Was it regret for the conquest she
relinquished, was it sympathy for her friend, or was it an
uncontrollable overflow of feeling as she read some sad or tender
passage of the little romance which she kept hidden away in her
own heart?

On Monday, Polly began the "delicate and dangerous task." Instead
of going to her pupils by way of the park and the pleasant streets
adjoining, she took a roundabout route through back streets, and
thus escaped Mr. Sydney, who, as usual, came home to dinner very
early that day and looked disappointed because he nowhere saw
the bright face in the modest bonnet. Polly kept this up for a week,
and by carefully avoiding the Shaws' house during calling hours,
she saw nothing of Mr. Sydney, who, of course, did n't visit her at
Miss Mills'. Minnie happened to be poorly that week and took no
lesson, so Uncle Syd was deprived of his last hope, and looked as
if his allowance of sunshine had been suddenly cut off.

Now, as Polly was by no means a perfect creature, I am free to
confess that the old temptation assailed her more than once that
week, for, when the first excitement of the dodging reform had
subsided, she missed the pleasant little interviews that used to put
a certain flavor of romance into her dull, hard-working days. She
liked Mr. Sydney very much, for he had always been kind and
friendly since the early times when he had treated the little girl
with a courtesy which the young woman gratefully remembered. I
don't think it was his wealth, accomplishments, or position that
most attracted Polly, though these doubtless possessed a greater
influence than she suspected. It was that indescribable something
which women are quick to see and feel in men who have been
blessed with wise and good mothers. This had an especial charm to
Polly, for she soon found that this side of his character was not
shown to every one. With most girls, he was very like the other
young men of his set, except perhaps in a certain grace of manner
which was as natural to him as his respect for all womankind. But
with Fanny and Polly he showed the domestic traits and virtues
which are more engaging to womanly women than any amount of
cool intellect or worldly wisdom.