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Drawn by Alonso Kimball.
-“Madame de Treymes," page 177
“They look something like steeples,”
thought little Rebecca Randall, who was ISS MIRANDA SAW. weeding the bed,"and the flat round flowers
YER'S old-fashioned gar- are like rosettes, but steeples wouldn't be den was the pleasantest spot studded with rosettes, so if you were writin Riverboro on a sunny ing about them you'd have to give up one or July morning. The rich the other, and I guess I'll give up the
color of the brick house steeples: gleamed and glowed through the shade of
“Gay little hollyhock the elm and maples. Luxuriant hop-vines
Lifting your head,
Sweetly rosetted clambered up the lightning-rods and water
Out from your bed. spouts, hanging their delicate clusters here and there in graceful profusion. Wood. It's a pity the hollyhock isn't really little, bine transformed the old sheds and tool- instead of being up to the window top, but I houses to things of beauty, and the flower. can't say, 'Gay tall hollyhock.' I might beds themselves were the prettiest and most have it ‘Lines to a Hollyhock in May,' for fragrant in all the countryside. A row of then it would be small; but oh, no! I forgot; dahlias ran directly around the garden spot, in May it wouldn't be blooming and it's so dahlias scarlet, gold, and variegated. In the pretty to say that its head is 'sweetly rovery centre was a round plot where the up- setted.' I wish Miss Dearborn wasn't turned faces of a thousand pansies smiled away; she would like 'sweetly rosetted,' amid their leaves, and in the four corners and she would like to hear me recite ‘Roll were triangular blocks of sweet phlox over on, thou deep and dark blue ocean, roll!' which the butterflies fluttered unceasingly. that I learned out of Aunt Jane's Byron; In the spaces between ran a riot of portulaca the rolls come booming out of it just like and nasturtiums, while in the more regular, the waves at the beach.” shell-bordered beds grew spirea and gilly- Rebecca, the little niece of the brick flowers, mignonette, marigolds and clove house ladies, and at present sojourning pinks. Back of the barn and encroaching there for purposes of board, lodging, and on the edge of the hay-field was a grove of education, had a passion for the rhyme and sweet clover whose white feathery tips fairly rhythm of poetry. From her earliest childbent under the assaults of the bees, while hood words had always been to her what banks of aromatic mint and thyme drank dolls and toys are to other children, and now in the sunshine and sent it out again into the at twelve or thirteen she amused herself summer air warm and deliciously odorous. with phrases and sentences and images as
The hollyhocks were Miss Sawyer's pride, her schoolmates played with the pieces of and they grew in a stately line beneath the their dissected puzzles. If the heroine of four kitchen windows, their tapering tips a story took a "cursory glance" about her set thickly with gay satin rosettes of pink “apartment” Rebecca would shortly ask or lavender or crimson.
her Aunt Jane to take a "cursory glance” Copyright, 1906, by Charles Scribner's Sons. All rights reserved.
at her oversewing or hemming; if the villain "I don't know," the child answered, con“aided and abetted” someone in commit- founded by the question, and still more by ting a crime, she would before long request the apparent logic back of it. "I don't the pleasure of aiding and abetting in dish- know; but when I'm working outdoors washing or bedmaking. Sometimes she such a Saturday morning as this, the whole used the borrowed phrases unconsciously; creation just screams to me to come and sometimes she brought them into the con- play." versation with an intense sense of pleasure "Well, you needn't go if it does!” rein their beauty and appropriateness. sponded her aunt sharply. “It don't
“How are you gettin' on, Rebecca Row- scream to me when I'm rollin' out these ena?” called a peremptory voice from with doughnuts.” in.
Rebecca's little brown hands flew in and "Pretty good, Aunt Miranda; only I out among the weeds as she thought rebelwish flowers would ever come up as thick liously; “Creation wouldn't scream to as this pigweed and plantain and sorrel. I Aunt Miranda; it would know she wouldn't just happened to be stopping to think a minute when you looked out.” “You think considerable more than you
“Scream on, thou bright and gay creation, scream!
'Tis not Miranda that will hear thy cry! weed, I guess, by appearances. How many times have you peeked into that humming. Oh, such funny nice things come into my bird's nest? Why don't you work all to head out here by myself, I do wish I could once and play all to once, like other folks?" run up and put them down in my thought
book for school, but Aunt Miranda wouldn't How pretty the hollyhock rosettes look from like me to leave off weeding:
down here on the ground! Rosetting, aid
ing and abetting, petting, hen-setting, fret"Rebecca was weeding the hollyhock bed When wonderful thoughts came into her head.
ting; “fretting' will do! Her aunt was occupied with the rolling-pin And the thoughts of her mind were common and
“Cheered by Rowena's petting, thin.
The flowers are rosetting,
But Aunt Miranda's fretting That wouldn't do because it's mean to Aunt
Doth somewhat cloud the day." Miranda, and anyway it isn't good. I must crawl under the syringa shade a minute, it's Suddenly the sound of wagon wheels broke so hot, and anybody has to stop working the silence and then a voice called out-a once in a while, just to get their breath: voice that couldn't wait until the feet that
belonged to it reached the spot: “Miss "Rebecca was weeding the hollyhock bed Sawyer! Father's got to drive over to North When wonderful thoughts came into her head. Miranda was wielding the rolling-pin
Riverboro on an errand, and please can And thoughts, at such times, seemed to her as a
Rebecca go, too, as it's Saturday morning sin.
and vacation besides?”
“Come straight to me!
and she stretched out her arms. - Page 138.
Rebecca sprang out from under the sy- ago and he left her. She and the little boy ringa-bush, eyes flashing with delight as only kind o' camped out in an old loggin' cabin Rebecca's eyes could flash, her face one back in the woods and she took in washin' luminous circle of joyous anticipation. She for a spell; then she got terrible sick and clapped her grubby hands, and dancing up ain't expected to live." and down, cried: "Can I, Aunt Miranda - “Who's been nursing her?” inquired can I, Aunt Jane—can I, Aunt Miranda- Miss Jane. Jane? I'm more than half through the “Lizy Ann Dennett, that lives nearest bed.”
neighbor to the cabin, but I guess she's "If you finish your weeding to-night be tired out bein' good Samaritan. Anyways, fore sundown I s'pose you can go, so long she sent word this mornin' that nobody as Mr. Perkins has been good enough to ask can't seem to find John Winslow; that you,” responded Miss Sawyer reluctantly. there ain't no relations, and the town's got "Take off that gingham apron and wash to be responsible; so I'm goin' over to see your hands clean at the pump. You ain't how the land ys. Climb in, Rebecca. be'n out o’ bed but two hours an' your hair You an' Emmy Jane crowd back on the looks as rough as if you'd slep'init. Smooth cushion an' I'll set forrard. That's the it down with your hands an' p'raps Emma trick! Now we're off!” Jane can braid it as you go along the road. “Dear, dear!" sighed Jane Sawyer as the Get your second-best hair ribbon out o’your sisters walked back into the brick house. upper drawer and put on your shade-hat. "I remember once seeing Sally Perry at No, you can't wear your coralchain-it ain't meeting. She was a handsome girl and I'm appropriate in the morning.-How long do sorry she's come to grief.” you cal'late to be gone, Emma Jane?” “If she'd kept on goin' to meetin' an'
“I don't know. Father's just been sent hadn't looked at the men folks she might for to see about a sick woman over to North 'a' be'n earnin' an honest livin' this minRiverboro. She's got to go to the poor- ute,” said Miranda. “Men folks are at the farm."
bottom of everything wrong in this world," This fragment of news speedily brought she continued, unconsciously reversing the Miss Sawyer, and her sister Jane as well, to verdict of history. the door which commanded a view of Mr. "Then we ought to be a happy and conPerkins and his wagon. Mr. Perkins, the tented community here in Riverboro,” refather of Rebecca's bosom friend, was pri- plied Jane, “as there's six women to one marily a blacksmith, and secondarily a "selectman” and an “overseer of the poor,” a “If 'twas sixteen to one we'd be all the man therefore possessed of wide and varied safer,” responded Miranda grimly, putting information.
the doughnuts in a brown crock in the "Who is it that's sick ?" inquired Mi- cellar-way and slamming the door. randa. “A woman over to North Riverboro."
II “What's the trouble?” "Can't say."
The Perkins horse and wagon rumbled * Stranger ?"
along over the dusty country road and after “Yes, and no; she's that wild daughter a discreet silence maintained as long as huof old Nate Perry that used to live up man flesh could endure Rebecca remarked towards Moderation. You remember she sedately: ran away to work in the factory at Milltown “It's a sad errand for such a shiny mornand married a do-nothin' fellow by the name ing, isn't it, Mr. Perkins ?” o' John Winslow?"
“Plenty o' trouble in the world, Re“Yes; well, where is he? Why don't he becky, shiny mornin's an’all,” that good take care of her?"
man replied. “If you want a bed to lay “They ain't worked well in double har- on, a roof over your head, an' food to eat, ness. They've been rovin'round the coun- you've got to work for 'em. If I hadn't 'a try livin' a month here and a month there worked early an'late, learned my trade, an' wherever they could get work and house- denied myself when I was young I might room. They quarrelled a couple o' weeks 'a'be'n a pauper layin' sick in a loggin'