Books: An Old fashioned Girl
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Louisa May Alcott >> An Old fashioned Girl
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"Was your dress imported?" asked Grace.
"No; was yours?" returned Blanche.
"Yes; and it cost oh, ever so much."
"I don't think it is as pretty as Maud's."
"Mine was made in New York," said Miss Shaw, smoothing her
skirts complacently.
"I can't dress much now, you know, 'cause mamma's in black for
somebody," observed Miss Alice Lovett, feeling the importance
which affliction conferred upon her when it took the form of a jet
necklace.
"Well, I don't care if my dress is n't imported; my cousin had three
kinds of wine at her party; so, now," said Blanche.
"Did she?" And all the little girls looked deeply impressed, till
Maud observed, with a funny imitation of her father's manner,
"My papa said it was scan-dill-us; for some of the little boys got
tipsy, and had to be tooked home. He would n't let us have any
wine; and gwandma said it was vewy impwoper for childwen to do
so."
"My mother says your mother's coup, is n't half so stylish as ours,"
put in Alice.
"Yes, it is, too. It 's all lined with gween silk, and that 's nicer than
old wed cloth," cried Maud, ruffling up like an insulted chicken.
"Well, my brother don't wear a horrid old cap, and he 's got nice
hair. I would n't have a brother like Tom. He 's horrid rude, my
sister says," retorted Alice.
"He is n't. Your brother is a pig."
"You 're a fib!"
"So are you!"
Here, I regret to say, Miss Shaw slapped Miss Lovett, who
promptly returned the compliment, and both began to cry.
Polly, who had paused to listen to the edifying chat, parted the
belligerents, and finding the poor things tired, cross, and sleepy,
yet unable to go home till sent for, proposed to play games. The
young ladies consented, and "Puss in the corner" proved a
peacemaker. Presently, in came the boys; and being exiles from
the German, gladly joined in the games, which soon were lively
enough to wake the sleepiest. "Blind-man's-buff" was in full swing
when Mr. Shaw peeped in, and seeing Polly flying about with
band-aged eyes, joined in the fun to puzzle her. He got caught
directly; and great merriment was caused by Polly's bewilderment,
for she could n't guess who he was, till she felt the bald spot on his
head.
This frolic put every one in such spirits, that Polly forgot her
trouble, and the little girls kissed each other good-night as
affectionately as if such things as imported frocks, coup,s, and
rival brothers did n't exist "Well, Polly, do you like parties?" asked
Fan when the last guest was gone.
"Very much; but I don't think it would be good for me to go to
many," answered Polly, slowly.
"Why not?"
"I should n't enjoy them if I did n't have a fine dress, and dance all
the time, and be admired, and all the rest of it."
"I did n't know you cared for such things," cried Fanny, surprised.
"Neither did I till to-night; but I do; and as I can't have 'em, it 's
lucky I 'm going home tomorrow."
"Oh, dear! So you are! What shall I do without my 'sweet P.,' as
Sydney calls you?" sighed Fanny, bearing Polly away to be
cuddled.
Every one echoed the exclamation next day; and many loving eyes
followed the little figure in the drab frock as it went quietly about,
doing for the last time the small services which would help to
make its absence keenly felt. Polly was to go directly after an early
dinner, and having packed her trunk, all but one tray, she was told
to go and take a run while grandma finished. Polly suspected that
some pleasant surprise was going to be put in; for Fan did n't offer
to go with her, Maud kept dodging about with something under her
apron, and Tom had just whisked into his mother's room in a
mysterious manner. So Polly took the hint and went away,
rejoicing in the thought of the unknown treasures she was to carry
home.
Mr. Shaw had not said he should come home so early, but Polly
thought he might, and went to meet him. Mr. Shaw did n't expect
to see Polly, for he had left her very busy, and now a light snow
was falling; but, as he turned into the mall there was the round hat,
and under it the bright face, looking all the rosier for being
powdered with snow-flakes, as Polly came running to meet him.
"There won't be any one to help the old gentleman safely home
to-morrow," he said, as Polly took his hand in both hers with an
affectionate squeeze.
"Yes, there will; see if there is n't," cried Polly, nodding and
smiling, for Fan had confided to her that she meant to try it after
her friend had gone.
"I 'm glad of it. But, my dear, I want you to promise that you will
come and make us a visit every winter, a good long one," said Mr.
Shaw, patting the blue mittens folded round his hand.
"If they can spare me from home, I 'd love to come dearly."
"They must lend you for a little while, because you do us all good,
and we need you."
"Do I? I don't see how; but I 'm glad to hear you say so," cried
Polly, much touched.
"I can't tell you how, exactly; but you brought something into my
house that makes it warmer and pleasanter, and won't quite vanish,
I hope, when you go away, my child."
Polly had never heard Mr. Shaw speak like that before, and did n't
know what to say, she felt so proud and happy at this proof of the
truth of her mother's words, when she said that "even a little girl
could exert an influence, and do some good in this big, busy
world." She only gave her friend a grateful look sweeter than any
words, and they went on together, hand in hand, through the
"soft-falling snow."
If Polly could have seen what went into that top tray, she would
have been entirely overcome; for Fanny had told grandma about
the poor little presents she had once laughed at, and they had all
laid their heads together to provide something really fine and
appropriate for every member of the Milton family. Such a mine of
riches! and so much good-will, affection, and kindly forethought
was packed away in the tempting bundles, that no one could feel
offended, but would find an unusual charm about the pretty gifts
that made them doubly welcome. I only know that if Polly had
suspected that a little watch was ticking away in a little case, with
her name on it, inside that trunk, she never could have left it
locked as grandma advised, or have eaten her dinner so quietly. As
it was, her heart was very full, and the tears rose to her eyes more
than once, everyone was so kind, and so sorry to have her go.
Tom did n't need any urging to play escort now; and both Fan and
Maud insisted on going too. Mrs. Shaw forgot her nerves, and put
up some gingerbread with her own hands; Mr. Shaw kissed Polly
as if she had been his dearest daughter; and grandma held her
close, whispering in a tremulous tone, "My little comfort, come
again soon"; while Katy waved her apron from the nursery
window, crying, as they drove, away, "The saints bless ye, Miss
Polly, dear, and sind ye the best of lucks!"
But the crowning joke of all was Tom's good-by, for, when Polly
was fairly settled in the car, the last "All aboard!" uttered, and the
train in motion, Tom suddenly produced a knobby little bundle,
and thrusting it in at the window, while he hung on in some
breakneck fashion, said, with a droll mixture of fun and feeling in
his face, "It 's horrid; but you wanted it, so I put it in to make you
laugh. Good-by, Polly; good-by, good-by!"
The last adieu was a trifle husky, and Tom vanished as it was
uttered, leaving Polly to laugh over his parting souvenir till the
tears ran down her cheeks. It was a paper bag of peanuts, and
poked down at the very bottom a photograph of Tom. It was
"horrid," for he looked as if taken by a flash of lightning, so black,
wild, and staring was it; but Polly liked it, and whenever she felt a
little pensive at parting with her friends, she took a peanut, or a
peep at Tom's funny picture, which made her merry again.
So the short journey came blithely to an end, and in the twilight
she saw a group of loving faces at the door of a humble little
house, which was more beautiful than any palace in her eyes, for it
was home.
CHAPTER VIII SIX YEARS AFTERWARD
"WHAT do you think Polly is going to do this winter?" exclaimed
Fanny, looking up from the letter she had been eagerly reading.
"Going to deliver lectures on Woman's Rights," said the young
gentleman who was carefully examining his luxuriant crop of
decidedly auburn hair, as he lounged with both elbows on the
chimney-piece.
"Going to set her cap for some young minister and marry him in
the spring," added Mrs. Shaw, whose mind ran a good deal upon
match-making just now.
"I think she is going to stay at home, and do all the work, 'cause
servants cost so much; it would be just like her," observed Maud,
who could pronounce the letter R now.
"It 's my opinion she is going to open a school, or something of
that sort, to help those brothers of hers along," said Mr. Shaw, who
had put down his paper at the sound of Polly's name.
"Every one of you wrong, though papa comes nearest the truth,"
cried Fanny; "she is going to give music lessons, and support
herself, so that Will may go to college. He is the studious one, and
Polly is very proud of him. Ned, the other brother, has a business
talent, and don't care for books, so he has gone out West, and will
make his own way anywhere. Polly says she is n't needed at home
now, the family is so small, and Kitty can take her place nicely; so
she is actually going to earn her own living, and hand over her
share of the family income to Will. What a martyr that girl does
make of herself," and Fanny looked as solemn as if Polly had
proposed some awful self-sacrifice.
"She is a sensible, brave-hearted girl, and I respect her for doing
it," said Mr. Shaw, emphatically. "One never knows what may
happen, and it does no harm for young people to learn to be
independent."
"If she is as pretty as she was last time I saw her, she 'll get pupils
fast enough. I would n't mind taking lessons myself," was the
gracious observation of Shaw, Jr., as he turned from the mirror,
with the soothing certainty that his objectionable hair actually was
growing darker.
"She would n't take you at any price," said Fanny, remembering
Polly's look of disappointment and disapproval when she came on
her last visit and found him an unmistakable dandy.
"You just wait and see," was the placid reply.
"If Polly does carry out her plan, I wish Maud to take lessons of
her; Fanny can do as she likes, but it would please me very much
to have one of my girls sing as Polly sings. It suits old people
better than your opera things, and mother used to enjoy it so
much."
As he spoke, Mr. Shaw's eye turned toward the comer of the fire
where grandma used to sit. The easy-chair was empty now, the
kind old face was gone, and nothing but a very tender memory
remained.
"I 'd like to learn, papa, and Polly is a splendid teacher, I know; she
's always so patient, and makes everything so pleasant. I do hope
she will get scholars enough to begin right away," said Maud.
"When is she coming?" asked Mrs. Shaw, quite willing to help
Polly, but privately resolving that Maud should be finished off by
the most fashionable master in the city.
"She does n't say. She thanks me for asking her here, as usual, but
says she shall go right to work and had better begin with her own
little room at once. Won't it seem strange to have Polly in town,
and yet not with us?"
"We 'll get her somehow. The little room will cost something, and
she can stay with us just as well as not, even if she does teach. Tell
her I say so," said Mr. Shaw.
"She won't come, I know; for if she undertakes to be independent,
she 'll do it in the most thorough manner," answered Fanny, and
Mrs. Shaw sincerely hoped she would. It was all very well to
patronize the little music-teacher, but it was not so pleasant to
have her settled in the family.
"I shall do what I can for her among my friends, and I dare say she
will get on very well with young pupils to begin with. If she starts
right, puts her terms high enough, and gets a few good names to
give her the entr,e into our first families, I don't doubt she will do
nicely, for I must say Polly has the manners of a lady," observed
Mrs. Shaw.
"She 's a mighty taking little body, and I 'm glad she 's to be in
town, though I 'd like it better if she did n't bother about teaching,
but just stayed here and enjoyed herself," said Tom, lazily.
"I 've no doubt she would feel highly honored to be allowed to
devote her time to your amusement; but she can't afford expensive
luxuries, and she don't approve of flirting, so you will have to let
her go her own way, and refresh herself with such glimpses of you
as her engagements permit," answered Fanny, in the sarcastic tone
which was be coming habitual to her.
"You are getting to be a regular old maid, Fan; as sharp as a lemon,
and twice as sour," returned Tom, looking down at her with an air
of calm superiority.
"Do be quiet, children; you know I can't bear anything like
contention. Maud, give me my Shetland shawl, and put a cushion
at my back."
As Maud obeyed her mother, with a reproving look at her erring
brother and sister, a pause followed, for which every one seemed
grateful. They were sitting about the fire after dinner, and all
looked as if a little sunshine would do them good. It had been a
dull November day, but all of a sudden the clouds lifted, and a
bright ray shot into the room. Every one turned involuntarily to
welcome it, and every one cried out, "Why, Polly!" for there on the
threshold stood a bright-faced girl, smiling as if there was no such
thing as November weather in the world.
"You dear thing, when did you come?" cried Fanny, kissing both
the blooming checks with real affection, while the rest hovered
near, waiting for a chance.
"I came yesterday, and have been getting my nest in order; but I
could n't keep away any longer, so I ran up to say 'How do you
do?'" answered Polly, in the cheery voice that did one's heart good
to hear.
"My Polly always brings the sunshine with her," and Mr. Shaw
held out his hands to his little friend, for she was his favorite still.
It was good to see her put both arms about his neck, and give him a
tender kiss, that said a great deal, for grandma had died since Polly
met him last and she longed to comfort him, seeing how gray and
old he had grown.
If Tom had had any thoughts of following his father's example,
something in Polly's manner made him change his mind, and shake
hands with a hearty "I 'm very glad to see you, Polly," adding to
himself, as he looked at the face in the modest little bonnet:
"Prettier than ever, by Jove!"
There was something more than mere prettiness in Polly's face,
though Tom had not learned to see it yet. The blue eyes were clear
and steady, the fresh mouth frank and sweet, the white chin was a
very firm one in spite of the dimple, and the smooth forehead
under the little curls had a broad, benevolent arch; while all about
the face were those unmistakable lines and curves which can make
even a plain countenance comely, by breathing into it the beauty of
a lovely character. Polly had grown up, but she had no more style
now than in the days of the round hat and rough coat, for she was
all in gray, like a young Quakeress, with no ornament but a blue
bow at the throat and another in the hair. Yet the plain suit became
her excellently, and one never thought of the dress, looking at the
active figure that wore it, for the freedom of her childhood gave to
Polly that good gift, health, and every movement was full of the
vigor, grace, and ease, which nothing else can so surely bestow. A
happy soul in a healthy body is a rare sight in these days, when
doctors flourish and every one is ill, and this pleasant union was
the charm which Polly possessed without knowing it.
"It does seem so good to have you here again," said Maud,
cuddling Polly's cold hand, as she sat at her feet, when she was
fairly established between Fanny and Mr. Shaw, while Tom leaned
on the back of his mother's chair, and enjoyed the prospect.
"How do you get on? When do you begin? Where is your nest?
Now tell all about it," began Fanny, who was full of curiosity about
the new plan.
"I shall get on very well, I think, for I 've got twelve scholars to
begin with, all able to pay a good price, and I shall give my first
lesson on Monday."
"Don't you dread it?" asked Fanny.
"Not much; why should I?" answered Polly, stoutly.
"Well, I don't know; it 's a new thing, and must be a little bit hard
at first," stammered Fanny, not liking to say that working for one's
living seemed a dreadful hardship to her.
"It will be tiresome, of course, but I shall get used to it; I shall like
the exercise, and the new people and places I must see will amuse
me. Then the independence will be delightful, and if I can save a
little to help Kitty along with, that will be best of all."
Polly's face shone as if the prospect was full of pleasure instead of
work, and the hearty good will with which she undertook the new
task, seemed to dignify her humble hopes and plans, and make
them interesting in the sight of others.
"Who have you got for pupils?" asked Mrs. Shaw, forgetting her
nerves for a minute.
Polly named her list, and took a secret satisfaction in seeing the
impression which certain names made upon her hearers.
"How in the world did you get the Davenports and the Greys, my
dear?" said Mrs. Shaw, sitting erect in her surprise.
"Mrs. Davenport and mother are relations, you know."
"You never told us that before!" "The Davenports have been away
some years, and I forgot all about them. But when I was making
my plan, I knew I must have a good name or two to set me going,
so I just wrote and asked Mrs. D. if she would help me. She came
and saw us and was very kind, and has got these pupils for me, like
a dear, good woman as she is."
"Where did you learn so much worldly wisdom, Polly?" asked Mr.
Shaw, as his wife fell back in her chair, and took out her salts, as if
this discovery had been too much for her.
"I learnt it here, sir," answered Polly, laughing. "I used to think
patronage and things of that sort very disagreeable and not worth
having, but I 've got wiser, and to a certain extent I 'm glad to use
whatever advantages I have in my power, if they can be honestly
got."
"Why did n't you let us help you in the beginning? We should have
been very glad to, I 'm sure," put in Mrs. Shaw, who quite burned
to be known as a joint patroness with Mrs. Davenport.
"I know you would, but you have all been so kind to me I did n't
want to trouble you with my little plans till the first steps were
taken. Besides, I did n't know as you would like to recommend me
as a teacher, though you like me well enough as plain Polly."
"My dear, of course I would, and we want you to take Maud at
once, and teach her your sweet songs. She has a fine voice, and is
really suffering for a teacher."
A slight smile passed over Polly's face as she returned her thanks
for the new pupil, for she remembered a time when Mrs. Shaw
considered her "sweet songs" quite unfit for a fashionable young
lady's repertoire. "Where is your room?" asked Maud.
"My old friend Miss Mills has taken me in, and I am nicely settled.
Mother did n't like the idea of my going to a strange
boarding-house, so Miss Mills kindly made a place for me. You
know she lets her rooms without board, but she is going to give me
my dinners, and I 'm to get my own breakfast and tea, quite
independently. I like that way, and it 's very little trouble, my
habits are so simple; a bowl of bread and milk night and morning,
with baked apples or something of that sort, is all I want, and I can
have it when I like."
"Is your room comfortably furnished? Can't we lend you anything,
my dear? An easy-chair now, or a little couch, so necessary when
one comes in tired," said Mrs. Shaw, taking unusual interest in the
affair.
"Thank you, but I don't need anything, for I brought all sorts of
home comforts with me. Oh, Fan, you ought to have seen my
triumphal entry into the city, sitting among my goods and chattels,
in a farmer's cart." Polly's laugh was so infectious that every one
smiled and forgot to be shocked at her performance. "Yes," she
added, "I kept wishing I could meet you, just to see your horrified
face when you saw me sitting on my little sofa, with boxes and
bundles all round me, a bird-cage on one side, a fishing basket,
with a kitten's head popping in and out of the hole, on the other
side, and jolly old Mr. Brown, in his blue frock, perched on a keg
of apples in front. It was a lovely bright day, and I enjoyed the ride
immensely, for we had all sorts of adventures."
"Oh, tell about it," begged Maud, when the general laugh at Polly's
picture had subsided.
"Well, in the first place, we forgot my ivy, and Kitty came running
after me, with it. Then we started again, but were soon stopped by
a great shouting, and there was Will racing down the hill, waving a
pillow in one hand and a squash pie in the other. How we did
laugh when he came up and explained that our neighbor, old Mrs.
Dodd, had sent in a hop-pillow for me, in case of headache, and a
pie to begin house-keeping with. She seemed so disappointed at
being too late that Will promised to get them to me, if he ran all
the way to town. The pillow was easily disposed of, but that pie! I
do believe it was stowed in every part of the wagon, and never
staid anywhere. I found it in my lap, then on the floor, next, upside
down among the books, then just on the point of coasting off a
trunk into the road, and at last it landed in my rocking-chair. Such
a remarkable pie as it was, too, for in spite of all its wanderings, it
never got spilt or broken, and we finally ate it for lunch, in order to
be left in peace. Next, my kitty got away, and I had a chase over
walls and brooks before I got her, while Mr. Brown sat shaking
with fun, to see me run. We finished off by having the
book-shelves tumble on our heads as we went down a hill, and
losing my chair off behind, as we went up a hill. A shout made us
pause, and, looking back, there was the poor little chair rocking all
by itself in the middle of the road, while a small boy sat on the
fence and whooped. It was great fun, I do assure you."
Polly had run on in her lively way, not because she thought her
adventures amounted to much, but from a wish to cheer up her
friends, who had struck her as looking rather dull and out of sorts,
especially Mr. Shaw; and when she saw him lean back in his chair
with the old hearty laugh, she was satisfied, and blessed the
unlucky pie for amusing him.
"Oh, Polly, you do tell such interesting things!" sighed Maud,
wiping her eyes.
"I wish I 'd met you, I 'd have given you three cheers and a tiger,
for it must have been an imposing spectacle," said Tom.
"No, you would n't; you 'd have whisked round the comer when
you saw me coming or have stared straight before you, utterly
unconscious of the young woman in the baggage wagon."
Polly laughed in his face just as she used to do, when she said that,
and, in spite of the doubt cast upon his courtesy, Tom rather liked
it, though he had nothing to say for himself but a reproachful,
"Now, Polly, that 's too bad."
"True, nevertheless. You must come and see my pets, Maud, for
my cat and bird live together as happily as brother and sister," said
Polly, turning to Maud, who devoured every word she said.
"That 's not saying much for them," muttered Tom, feeling that
Polly ought to address more of her conversation to him.
"Polly knows what she 's talking about; her brothers appreciate
their sisters," observed Fanny, in her sharp tone.
"And Polly appreciates her brothers, don't forget to add that,
ma'am," answered Tom.
"Did I tell you that Will was going to college?" broke in Polly, to
avert the rising storm.
"Hope he 'll enjoy himself," observed Tom, with the air of a man
who had passed through all the mysteries, and reached that state of
sublime indifference which juniors seem to pride themselves upon.
"I think he will, he is so fond of study, and is so anxious to
improve every opportunity. I only hope he won't overwork and get
sick, as so many boys do," said simple Polly, with such a respectful
belief in the eager thirst for knowledge of collegians as a class,
that Tom regarded the deluded girl with a smile of lofty pity, from
the heights of his vast and varied experience.
"Guess he won't hurt himself. I 'll see that he don't study too hard."
And Tom's eyes twinkled as they used to do, when he planned his
boyish pranks.
"I 'm afraid you can't be trusted as a guide, if various rumors I 've
heard are true," said Polly, looking up at him with a wistful
expression, that caused his face to assume the sobriety of an owl's.
"Base slanders; I 'm as steady as a clock, an ornament to my class,
and a model young man, ain't I, mother?" And Tom patted her thin
cheek with a caressing hand, sure of one firm friend in her; for
when he ceased to be a harum-scarum boy, Mrs. Shaw began to
take great pride in her son, and he, missing grandma, tried to fill
her place with his feeble mother.
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