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Chapter 7 Jill`s Mission
The good times began immediately, and very little studying was done that week in spite of the virtuous resolutions made by certain young persons on Christmas Day. But, dear me, how was it possible to settle down to lessons in the delightful Bird Room, with not only its own charms to distract one, but all the new gifts to enjoy, and a dozen calls a day to occupy one`s time? "I guess we`d better wait till the others are at school, and just go in for fun this week," said Jack, who was in great spirits at the prospect of getting up, for the splints were off, and he hoped to be promoted to crutches very soon. "I shall keep my Speller by me and take a look at it every day, for that is what I`m most backward in. But I intend to devote myself to you, Jack, and be real kind and useful. I`ve made a plan to do it, and I mean to carry it out, anyway," answered Jill, who had begun to be a missionary, and felt that this was a field of labor where she could distinguish herself. "Here`s a home mission all ready for you, and you can be paying your debts beside doing yourself good," Mrs. Pecq said to her in private, having found plenty to do herself. Now Jill made one great mistake at the outset--she forgot that she was the one to be converted to good manners and gentleness, and devoted her efforts to looking after Jack, finding it much easier to cure other people`s faults than her own. Jack was a most engaging heathen, and needed very little instruction; therefore Jill thought her task would be an easy one. But three or four weeks of petting and play had rather demoralized both children, so Jill`s Speller, though tucked under the sofa pillow every day, was seldom looked at, and Jack shirked his Latin shamefully. Both read all the story-books they could get, held daily levees in the Bird Room, and all their spare minutes were spent in teaching Snowdrop, the great Angora cat, to bring the ball when they dropped it in their game. So Saturday came, and both were rather the worse for so much idleness, since daily duties and studies are the wholesome bread which feeds the mind better than the dyspeptic plum-cake of sensational reading, or the unsubstantial bon-bons of frivolous amusement. It was a stormy day, so they had few callers, and devoted themselves to arranging the album; for these books were all the rage just then, and boys met to compare, discuss, buy, sell, and "swap" stamps with as much interest as men on `Change gamble in stocks. Jack had a nice little collection, and had been saving up pocket-money to buy a book in which to preserve his treasures. Now, thanks to Jill`s timely suggestion, Frank had given him a fine one, and several friends had contributed a number of rare stamps to grace the large, inviting pages. Jill wielded the gum-brush and fitted on the little flaps, as her fingers were skilful at this nice work, and Jack put each stamp in its proper place with great rustling of leaves and comparing of marks. Returning, after a brief absence, Mrs. Minot beheld the countenances of the workers adorned with gay stamps, giving them a very curious appearance. "My dears! what new play have you got now? Are you wild Indians? or letters that have gone round the world before finding the right address?" she asked, laughing at the ridiculous sight, for both were as sober as judges and deeply absorbed in some doubtful specimen. "Oh, we just stuck them there to keep them safe; they get lost if we leave them lying round. It`s very handy, for I can see in a minute what I want on Jill`s face and she on mine, and put our fingers on the right chap at once," answered Jack, adding, with an anxious gaze at his friend`s variegated countenance, "Where the dickens is my New Granada? It`s rare, and I wouldn`t lose it for a dollar." `Why, there it is on your own nose. Don`t you remember you put it there because you said mine was not big enough to hold it?" laughed Jill, tweaking a large orange square off the round nose of her neighbor, causing it to wrinkle up in a droll way, as the gum made the operation slightly painful. "So I`d id, and gave you Little Bolivar on yours. Now I`ll have Alsace and Lorraine, 1870. There are seven of them, so hold still and see how you like it," returned Jack, picking the large, pale stamps one by one from Jill`s forehead, which they crossed like a band. She bore it without flinching, saying to herself with a secret smile, as she glanced at the hot fire, which scorched her if she kept near enough to Jack to help him, "This really is being like a missionary, with a tattooed savage to look after. I have to suffer a little, as the good folks did who got speared and roasted sometimes; but I won`t complain a bit, though my forehead smarts, my arms are tired, and one cheek is as red as fire." "The Roman States make a handsome page, don`t they?" asked Jack, little dreaming of the part he was playing in Jill`s mind. "Oh, I say, isn`t Corea a beauty? I`m ever so proud of that"; and he gazed fondly on a big blue stamp, the sole ornament of one page. "I don`t see why the Cape of Good Hope has pyramids. They ought to go in Egypt. The Sandwich Islands are all right, with heads of the black kings and queens on them," said Jill, feeling that they were very appropriate to her private play. "Turkey has crescents, Australia swans, and Spain women`s heads, with black bars across them. Frank says it is because they keep women shut up so; but that was only his fun. I`d rather have a good, honest green United States, with Washington on it, or a blue one-center with old Franklin, than all their eagles and lions and kings and queens put together," added the democratic boy, with a disrespectful slap on a crowned head as he settled Heligoland in its place. "Why does Austria have Mercury on the stamp, I wonder? Do they wear helmets like that?" asked Jill, with the brush-handle in her mouth as she cut a fresh batch of flaps. "Maybe he was postman to the gods, so he is put on stamps now. The Prussians wear helmets, but they have spikes like the old Roman fellows. I like Prussians ever so much; they fight splendidly, and always beat. Austrians have a handsome uniform, though." "Talking of Romans reminds me that I have not heard your Latin for two days. Come, lazybones, brace up, and let us have it now. I`ve done my compo, and shall have just time before I go out for a tramp with Gus," said Frank, putting by a neat page to dry, for he studied every day like a conscientious lad as he was. "Don`t know it. Not going to try till next week. Grind away over your old Greek as much as you like, but don`t bother me," answered Jack, frowning at the mere thought of the detested lesson. But Frank adored his Xenophon, and would not see his old friend, Caesar, neglected without an effort to defend him; so he confiscated the gum-pot, and effectually stopped the stamp business by whisking away at one fell swoop all that lay on Jill`s table. "Now then, young man, you will quit this sort of nonsense and do your lesson, or you won`t see these fellows again in a hurry. You asked me to hear you, and I`m going to do it; here`s the book." Frank`s tone was the dictatorial one, which Jack hated and always found hard to obey, especially when he knew he ought to do it. Usually, when his patience was tried, he strode about the room, or ran off for a race round the garden, coming back breathless, but good-tempered. Now both these vents for irritation were denied him, and he had fallen into the way of throwing things about in a pet. He longed to send Caesar to perpetual banishment in the fire blazing close by, but resisted the temptation, and answered honestly, though gruffly: "I know I`d id, but I don`t see any use in pouncing on a fellow when he isn`t ready. I haven`t got my lesson, and don`t mean to worry about it; so you may just give me back my things and go about your business." "I`ll give you back a stamp for every perfect lesson you get, and you won`t see them on any other terms"; and, thrusting the treasures into his pocket, Frank caught up his rubber boots, and went off swinging them like a pair of clubs, feeling that he would give a trifle to be able to use them on his lazy brother. At this high-handed proceeding, and the threat which accompanied it, Jack`s patience gave out, and catching up Caesar, as he thought, sent him flying after the retreating tyrant with the defiant declaration, "Keep them, then, and your old book, too! I won`t look at it till you give all my stamps back and say you are sorry. So now!" It was all over before Mamma could interfere, or Jill do more than clutch and cling to the gum-brush. Frank vanished unharmed, but the poor book dashed against the wall to fall half open on the floor, its gay cover loosened, and its smooth leaves crushed by the blow. "It`s the album! O Jack, how could you?" cried Jill, dismayed at sight of the precious book so maltreated by the owner. "Thought it was the other. Guess it isn`t hurt much. Didn`t mean to hit him, anyway. He does provoke me so," muttered Jack, very red and shamefaced as his mother picked up the book and laid it silently on the table before him. He did not know what to do with himself, and was thankful for the stamps still left him, finding great relief in making faces as he plucked them one by one from his mortified countenance. Jill looked on, half glad, half sorry that her savage showed such signs of unconverted ferocity, and Mrs. Minot went on writing letters, wearing the grave look her sons found harder to bear than another person`s scolding. No one spoke for a moment, and the silence was becoming awkward when Gus appeared in a rubber suit, bringing a book to Jack from Laura and a note to Jill from Lotty. "Look here, you just trundle me into my den, please, I`m going to have a nap, it`s so dull to-day I don`t feel like doing much," said Jack, when Gus had done his errands, trying to look as if he knew nothing about the fracas. Jack folded his arms and departed like a warrior borne from the battle-field, to be chaffed unmercifully for a "pepper-pot," while Gus made him comfortable in his own room. "I heard once of a boy who threw a fork at his brother and put his eye out. But he didn`t mean to, and the brother forgave him, and he never did so any more," observed Jill, in a pensive tone, wishing to show that she felt all the dangers of impatience, but was sorry for the culprit. "Did the boy ever forgive himself?" asked Mrs. Minot. "No, `m; I suppose not. But Jack didn`t hit Frank, and feels real sorry, I know." "He might have, and hurt him very much. Our actions are in our own hands, but the consequences of them are not. Remember that, my dear, and think twice before you do anything." "Yes, `m, I will"; and Jill composed herself to consider what missionaries usually did when the natives hurled tomahawks and boomerangs at one another, and defied the rulers of the land. Mrs. Minot wrote one page of a new letter, then stopped, pushed her papers about, thought a little, and finally got up, saying, as if she found it impossible to resist the yearning of her heart for the naughty boy, "I am going to see if Jack is covered up, he is so helpless, and liable to take cold. Don`t stir till I come back." "No, `m, I won`t." Away went the tender parent to find her son studying Caesar for dear life, and all the more amiable for the little gust which had blown away the temporary irritability. The brothers were often called "Thunder and Lightning," because Frank lowered and growled and was a good while clearing up, while Jack`s temper came and went like a flash, and the air was all the clearer for the escape of dangerous electricity. Of course Mamma had to stop and deliver a little lecture, illustrated by sad tales of petulant boys, and punctuated with kisses which took off the edge of these afflicting narratives. Jill meantime meditated morally on the superiority of her own good temper over the hasty one of her dear playmate, and just when she was feeling unusually uplifted and secure, alas! like so many of us, she fell, in the most deplorable manner. Glancing about the room for something to do, she saw a sheet of paper lying exactly out of reach, where it had fluttered from the table unperceived. At first her eye rested on it as carelessly as it did on the stray stamp Frank had dropped; then, as if one thing suggested the other, she took it into her head that the paper was Frank`s composition, or, better still, a note to Annette, for the two corresponded when absence or weather prevented the daily meeting at school. "Wouldn`t it be fun to keep it till he gives back Jack`s stamps? It would plague him so if it was a note, and I do believe it is, for compo`s don`t begin with two words on one side. I`ll get it, and Jack and I will plan some way to pay him off, cross thing!" Forgetting her promise not to stir, also how dishonorable it was to read other people`s letters, Jill caught up the long-handled hook, often in use now, and tried to pull the paper nearer. It would not come at once, for a seam in the carpet held it, and Jill feared to tear or crumple it if she was not very careful. The hook was rather heavy and long for her to manage, and Jack usually did the fishing, so she was not very skilful; and just as she was giving a particularly quick jerk, she lost her balance, fell off the sofa, and dropped the pole with a bang. "Oh, my back!" was all she could think or say as she felt the jar all through her little body, and a corresponding fear in her guilty little mind that someone would come and find out the double mischief she had been at. For a moment she lay quite still to recover from the shock, then as the pain passed she began to wonder how she should get back, and looked about her to see if she could do it alone. She thought she could, as the sofa was near and she had improved so much that she could sit up a little if the doctor would have let her. She was gathering herself together for the effort, when, within arm`s reach now, she saw the tempting paper, and seized it with glee, for in spite of her predicament she did want to tease Frank. A glance showed that it was not the composition nor a note, but the beginning of a letter from Mrs. Minot to her sister, and Jill was about to lay it down when her own name caught her eye, and she could not resist reading it. Hard words to write of one so young, doubly hard to read, and impossible to forget. "Dear Lizzie, Jack continues to do very well, and will soon be up again. But we begin to fear that the little girl is permanently injured in the back. She is here, and we do our best for her; but I never look at her without thinking of Lucinda Snow, who, you remember, was bedridden for twenty years, owing to a fall at fifteen. Poor little Janey does not know yet, and I hope"-- There it ended, and "poor little Janey`s" punishment for disobedience began that instant. She thought she was getting well because she did not suffer all the time, and everyone spoke cheerfully about "by and by." Now she knew the truth, and shut her eyes with a shiver as she said, low, to herself, "Twenty years! I couldn`t bear it; oh, I couldn`t bear it!" A very miserable Jill lay on the floor, and for a while did not care who came and found her; then the last words of the letter-- "I hope"--seemed to shine across the blackness of the dreadful "twenty years" and cheer her up a bit, for despair never lives long in young hearts, and Jill was a brave child. "That is why Mammy sighs so when she dresses me, and everyone is so good to me. Perhaps Mrs. Minot doesn`t really know, after all. She was dreadfully scared about Jack, and he is getting well. I`d like to ask Doctor, but he might find Out about the letter. Oh, dear, why didn`t I keep still and let the horrid thing alone!" As she thought that, Jill pushed the paper away, pulled herself up, and with much painful effort managed to get back to her sofa, where she laid herself down with a groan, feeling as if the twenty years had already passed over her since she tumbled off. "I`ve told a lie, for I said I wouldn`t stir. I`ve hurt my back, I`ve done a mean thing, and I`ve got paid for it. A nice missionary I am; I`d better begin at home, as Mammy told me to"; and Jill groaned again, remembering her mother`s words. "Now I`ve got another secret to keep all alone, for I`d be ashamed to tell the girls. I guess I`ll turn round and study my spelling; then no one will see my face." Jill looked the picture of a good, industrious child as she lay with her back to the large table, her book held so that nothing was to be seen but one cheek and a pair of lips moving busily. Fortunately, it is difficult for little sinners to act a part, and, even if the face is hidden, something in the body seems to betray the internal remorse and shame. Usually, Jill lay flat and still; now her back was bent in a peculiar way as she leaned over her book, and one foot wagged nervously, while on the visible cheek was a Spanish stamp with a woman`s face looking through the black bars, very suggestively, if she had known it. How long the minutes seemed till someone came, and what a queer little jump her heart gave when Mrs. Minot`s voice said, cheerfully, "Jack is all right, and, I declare, so is Jill. I really believe there is a telegraph still working somewhere between you two, and each knows what the other is about without words." "I didn`t have any other book handy, so I thought I`d study awhile," answered Jill, feeling that she deserved no praise for her seeming industry. She cast a sidelong glance as she spoke, and seeing that Mrs. Minot was looking for the letter, hid her face and lay so still she could hear the rustle of the paper as it was taken from the floor. It was well she did not also see the quick look the lady gave her as she turned the letter and found a red stamp sticking to the under side, for this unlucky little witness told the story. Mrs. Minot remembered having seen the stamp lying close to the sofa when she left the room, for she had had half a mind to take it to Jack, but did not, thinking Frank`s plan had some advantages. She also recollected that a paper flew off the table, but being in haste she had not stopped to see what it was. Now, the stamp and the letter could hardly have come together without hands, for they lay a yard apart, and here, also, on the unwritten portion of the page, was the mark of a small green thumb. Jill had been winding wool for a stripe in her new afghan, and the green ball lay on her sofa. These signs suggested and confirmed what Mrs. Minot did not want to believe; so did the voice, attitude, and air of Jill, all very unlike her usual open, alert ways. The kind lady could easily forgive the reading of her letter since the girl had found such sad news there, but the dangers of disobedience were serious in her case, and a glance showed that she was suffering either in mind or body--perhaps both. "I will wait for her to tell me. She is an honest child, and the truth will soon come out," thought Mrs. Minot, as she took a clean sheet, and Jill tried to study. "Shall I hear your lesson, dear? Jack means to recite his like a good boy, so suppose you follow his example," she said, presently. "I don`t know as I can say it, but I`ll try." Jill did try, and got on bravely till she came to the word "permanent"; there she hesitated, remembering where she saw it last. "Do you know what that means?" asked her teacher, thinking to help her on by defining the word. "Always--for a great while--or something like that; doesn`t it?" faltered Jill, with a tight feeling in her throat, and the color coming up, as she tried to speak easily, yet felt so shame-stricken she could not. "Are you in pain, my child? Never mind the lesson; tell me, and I`ll do something for you." The kind words, the soft hand on her hot cheek, and the pity in the eyes that looked at her, were too much for Jill. A sob came first, and then the truth, told with hidden face and tears that washed the blush away, and set free the honest little soul that could not hide its fault from such a friend. "I knew it all before, and was sure you would tell me, else you would not be the child I love and like to help so well." Then, while she soothed Jill`s trouble, Mrs. Minot told her story and showed the letter, wishing to lessen, if possible, some part of the pain it had given. "Sly old stamp! To go and tell on me when I meant to own up, anti get some credit if I could, after being so mean and bad," said Jill, smiling through her tears when she saw the tell-tale witnesses against her. "You had better stick it in your book to remind you of the bad consequences of disobedience, then perhaps this lesson will leave a permanent impression on your mind and memory, answered Mrs. Minot, glad to see her natural gayety coming back, and hoping that she had forgotten the contents of the unfortunate letter. But she had not; and presently, when the sad affair had been talked over and forgiven, Jill asked, slowly, as she tried to put on a brave look, "Please tell me about Lucinda Snow. If I am to be like her, I might as well know how she managed to bear it so long." "I`m sorry you ever heard of her, and yet perhaps it may help you to bear your trial, dear, which I hope will never be as heavy a one as hers, This Lucinda I knew for years, and though at first I thought her fate the saddest that could be, I came at last to see how happy she was in spite of her affliction, how good and useful and beloved." "Why, how could she be? What did she do?" cried Jill, forgetting her own troubles to look up with an open, eager face again. "She was so patient, other people were ashamed to complain of their small worries; so cheerful, that her own great one grew lighter; so industrious, that she made both money and friends by pretty things she worked and sold to her many visitors. And, best of all, so wise and sweet that she seemed to get good out of everything, and make her poor room a sort of chapel where people went for comfort, counsel, and an example of a pious life. So, you see, Lucinda was not so very miserable after all." "Well, if I could not be as I was, I`d like to be a woman like that. Only, I hope I shall not!" answered Jill, thoughtfully at first, then coming out so decidedly with the last words that it was evident the life of a bedridden saint was not at all to her mind. "So do I; and I mean to believe that you will not. Meantime, we can try to make the waiting as useful and pleasant as possible. This painful little back will be a sort of conscience to remind you of what you ought to do and leave undone, and so you can be learning obedience. Then, when the body is strong, it will have formed a good habit to make duty easier; and my Lucinda can be a sweet example, even while lying here, if she chooses." "Can I?" and Jill`s eyes were full of softer tears as the comfortable, cheering words sank into her heart, to blossom slowly by and by into her life, for this was to be a long lesson, hard to learn, but very useful in the years to come. When the boys returned, after the Latin was recited and peace restored, Jack showed her a recovered stamp promptly paid by Frank, who was as just as he was severe, and Jill asked for the old red one, though she did not tell why she wanted it, nor show it put away in the spelling-book, a little seal upon a promise made to be kept. Merry and Molly Now let us see how the other missionaries got on with their tasks. Farmer Grant was a thrifty, well-to-do man, anxious to give his children greater advantages than he had enjoyed, and to improve the fine place of which he was justly proud. Mrs. Grant was a notable housewife, as ambitious and industrious as her husband, but too busy to spend any time on the elegancics of life, though always ready to help the poor and sick like a good neighbor and Christian woman. The three sons--Tom, Dick, and Harry--were big fellows of seventeen, nineteen, and twenty-one; the first two on the farm, and the elder in a store just setting up for himself. Kind-hearted but rough-mannered youths, who loved Merry very much, but teased her sadly about her "fine lady airs," as they called her dainty ways and love of beauty. Merry was a thoughtful girl, full of innocent fancies, refined tastes, and romantic dreams, in which no one sympathized at home, though she was the pet of the family. It did seem, to an outsider, as if the delicate little creature had got there by mistake, for she looked very like a tea-rose in a field of clover and dandelions, whose highest aim in life was to feed cows and help make root beer. When the girls talked over the new society, it pleased Merry very much, and she decided not only to try and love work better, but to convert her family to a liking for pretty things, as she called her own more cultivated tastes. "I will begin at once, and show them that I don`t mean to shirk my duty, though I do want to be nice," thought she, as she sat at supper one night and looked about her, planning her first move. Not a very cheering prospect for a lover of the beautiful, certainly, for the big kitchen, though as neat as wax, had nothing lovely in it, except a red geranium blooming at the window. Nor were the people all that could be desired, in some respects, as they sat about the table shovelling in pork and beans with their knives, drinking tea from their saucers, and laughing out with a hearty "Haw, haw," when anything amused them. Yet the boys were handsome, strong specimens, the farmer a hale, benevolent-looking man, the housewife a pleasant, sharp-eyed matron, who seemed to find comfort in looking often at the bright face at her elbow, with the broad forehead, clear eyes, sweet mouth, and quiet voice that came like music in among the loud masculine ones, or the quick, nervous tones of a woman always in a hurry. Merry`s face was so thoughtful that evening that her father observed it, for, when at home, he watched her as one watches a kitten, glad to see anything so pretty, young, and happy, at its play. "Little daughter has got something on her mind, I mistrust. Come and tell father all about it," he said, with a sounding slap on his broad knee as he turned his chair from the table to the ugly stove, where three pairs of wet boots steamed underneath, and a great kettle of cider apple-sauce simmered above. "When I`ve helped clear up, I`ll come and talk. Now, mother, you sit down and rest; Roxy and I can do everything," answered Merry, patting the old rocking-chair so invitingly that the tired woman could not resist, especially as watching the kettle gave her an excuse for obeying. "Well, I don`t care if I`d o, for I`ve been on my feet since five o`clock. Be sure you cover things up, and shut the buttery door, and put the cat down cellar, and sift your meal. I`ll see to the buckwheats last thing before I go to bed." Mrs. Grant subsided with her knitting, for her hands were never idle; Tom tilted his chair back against the wall and picked his teeth with his pen-knife; Dick got out a little pot of grease, to make the boots water-tight; and Harry sat down at the small table to look over his accounts, with an important air--for everyone occupied this room, and the work was done in the out-kitchen behind. Merry hated clearing up, but dutifully did every distasteful task, and kept her eye on careless Roxy till all was in order; then she gladly went to perch on her father`s knee, seeing in all the faces about her the silent welcome they always wore for the "little one. "Yes, I do want something, but I know you will say it is silly," she began, as her father pinched her blooming cheek, with the wish that his peaches would ever look half as well. "Shouldn`t wonder if it was a doll now"; and Mr. Grant stroked her head with an indulgent smile, as if she was about six instead of fifteen. "Why, father, you know I don`t! I haven`t played with dollies for years and years. No; I want to fix up my room pretty, like Jill`s. I`ll do it all myself, and only want a few things, for I don`t expect it to look as nice as hers." Indignation gave Merry courage to state her wishes boldly, though she knew the boys would laugh. They did, and her mother said in a tone of surprise, "Why, child, what more can you want? I`m sure your room is always as neat as a new pin, thanks to your bringing up, and I told you to have a fire there whenever you wanted to." "Let me have some old things out of the garret, and I`ll show you what I want. It is neat, but so bare and ugly I hate to be there. I do so love something pretty to look at!" and Merry gave a little shiver of disgust as she turned her eyes away from the large greasy boot Dick was holding up to be sure it was well lubricated all round. "So do I, and that`s a fact. I couldn`t get on without my pretty girl here, anyway. Why, she touches up the old place better than a dozen flower-pots in full blow," said the farmer, as his eye went from the scarlet geranium to the bright young face so near his own. "I wish I had a dozen in the sitting-room window. Mother says they are not tidy, but I`d keep them neat, and I know you`d like it," broke in Merrry, glad of the chance to get one of the long-desired wishes of her heart fulfilled. "I`ll fetch you some next time I go over to Ballad`s. Tell me what you want, and we`ll have a posy bed somewhere round, see if we don`t," said her father, dimly understanding what she wanted. "Now, if mother says I may fix my room, I shall be satisfied, and I`ll do my chores without a bit of fuss, to show how grateful I am," said the girl, thanking her father with a kiss, and smiling at her mother so wistfully that the good woman could not refuse. "You may have anything you like out of the blue chest. There`s a lot of things there that the moths got at after Grandma died, and I couldn`t bear to throw or give `em away. Trim up your room as you like, and mind you don`t forget your part of the bargain," answered Mrs. Grant, seeing profit in the plan. "I won`t; I`ll work all the morning to-morrow, and in the afternoon I`ll get ready to show you what I call a nice, pretty room," answered Merry, looking so pleased it seemed as if another flower had blossomed in the large bare kitchen. She kept her word, and the very stormy afternoon when Jill got into trouble, Merry was working busily at her little bower. In the blue chest she found a variety of treasures, and ignoring the moth holes, used them to the best advantage, trying to imitate the simple comfort with a touch of elegance which prevailed in Mrs. Minot`s back bedroom. Three faded red-moreen curtains went up at the windows over the chilly paper shades, giving a pleasant glow to the bare walls. A red quilt with white stars, rather the worse for many washings, covered the bed, and a gay cloth the table, where a judicious arrangement of books and baskets concealed the spots. The little air-tight stove was banished, and a pair of ancient andirons shone in the fire-light. Grandma`s last and largest braided rug lay on the hearth, and her brass candlesticks adorned the bureau, over the mirror of which was festooned a white muslin skirt, tied up with Merry`s red sash. This piece of elegance gave the last touch to her room, she thought, and she was very proud of it, setting forth all her small store of trinkets in a large shell, with an empty scent bottle, and a clean tidy over the pincushion. On the walls she hung three old-fashioned pictures, which she ventured to borrow from the garret till better could be found. One a mourning piece, with a very tall lady weeping on an urn in a grove of willows, and two small boys in knee breeches and funny little square tails to their coats, looking like cherubs in large frills. The other was as good as a bonfire, being an eruption of Vesuvius, and very lurid indeed, for the Bay of Naples was boiling like a pot, the red sky raining rocks, and a few distracted people lying flat upon the shore. The third was a really pretty scene of children dancing round a May-pole, for though nearly a hundred years old, the little maids smiled and the boys pranced as gayly as if the flowers they carried were still alive and sweet. "Now I`ll call them all to see, and say that it is pretty. Then I`ll enjoy it, and come here when things look dismal and bare everywhere else," said Merry, when at last it was done. She had worked all the afternoon, and only finished at supper time, so the candles had to be lighted that the toilette might look its best, and impress the beholders with an idea of true elegance. Unfortunately, the fire smoked a little, and a window was set ajar to clear the room; an evil disposed gust blew in, wafting the thin drapery within reach of the light, and when Merry threw open the door proudly thinking to display her success, she was horrified to find the room in a blaze, and half her labor all in vain. The conflagration was over in a minute, however, for the boys tore down the muslin and stamped out the fire with much laughter, while Mrs. Grant bewailed the damage to her carpet, and poor Merry took refuge in her father`s arms, refusing to be comforted in spite of his kind commendation of "Grandma`s fixins." The third little missionary had the hardest time of all, and her first efforts were not much more satisfactory nor successful than the others. Her father was away from morning till night, and then had his paper to read, books to keep, or "a man to see down town," so that, after a hasty word at tea, he saw no more of the children till another evening, as they were seldom up at his early breakfast. He thought they were well taken care of, for Miss Bathsheba Dawes was an energetic, middle-aged spinster when she came into the family, and had been there fifteen years, so he did not observe, what a woman would have seen at once, that Miss Bat was getting old and careless, and everything about the house was at sixes and sevens. She took good care of him, and thought she had done her duty if she got three comfortable meals, nursed the children when they were ill, and saw that the house did not burn up. So Maria Louisa and Napoleon Bonaparte got on as they could, without the tender cares of a mother. Molly had been a happy-go-lucky child, contented with her pets, her freedom, and little Boo to love; but now she was just beginning to see that they were not like other children, and to feel ashamed of it. "Papa is busy, but Miss Bat ought to see to us; she is paid for it, and goodness knows she has an easy time now, for if I ask her to do anything, she groans over her bones, and tells me young folks should wait on themselves. I take all the care of Boo off her hands, but I can`t wash my own things, and he hasn`t a decent trouser to his blessed little legs. I`d tell papa, but it wouldn`t do any good; he`d only say, `Yes, child, yes, I`ll attend to it,` and never do a thing." This used to be Molly`s lament, when some especially trying event occurred, and if the girls were not there to condole with her, she would retire to the shed-chamber, call her nine cats about her, and, sitting in the old bushel basket, pull her hair about her ears, and scold all alone. The cats learned to understand this habit, and nobly did their best to dispel the gloom which now and then obscured the sunshine of their little mistress. Some of them would creep into her lap and purr till the comfortable sound soothed her irritation; the sedate elders sat at her feet blinking with such wise and sympathetic faces, that she felt as if half a dozen Solomons were giving her the sagest advice; while the kittens frisked about, cutting up their drollest capers till she laughed in spite of herself. When the laugh came, the worst of the fit was over, and she soon cheered up, dismissing the consolers with a pat all round, a feast of good things from Miss Bat`s larder, and the usual speech: "Well, dears, it`s of no use to worry. I guess we shall get along somehow, if we don`t fret." With which wise resolution, Molly would leave her retreat and freshen up her spirits by a row on the river or a romp with Boo, which always finished the case. Now, however, she was bound to try the new plan and do something toward reforming not only the boy`s condition, but the disorder and discomfort of home. "I`ll play it is Siam, and this the house of a native, and I`m come to show the folks how to live nicely. Miss Bat won`t know what to make of it, and I can`t tell her, so I shall get some fun out of it, anyway," thought Molly, as she surveyed the dining-room the day her mission began. The prospect was not cheering; and, if the natives of Siam live in such confusion, it is high time they were attended to. The breakfast-table still stood as it was left, with slops of coffee on the cloth; bits of bread, egg-shells, and potato-skins lay about, and one lonely sausage was cast away in the middle of a large platter. The furniture was dusty, stove untidy, and the carpet looked as if crumbs had been scattered to chickens who declined their breakfast. Boo was sitting on the sofa, with his arm through a hole in the cover, hunting for some lost treasure put away there for safe keeping, like a little magpie as he was. Molly fancied she washed and dressed him well enough; but to-day she seemed to see more dearly, and sighed as she thought of the hard job in store for her if she gave him the thorough washing he needed, and combed out that curly mop of hair. "I`ll clear up first and do that by and by. I ought to have a nice little tub and good towels, like Mrs. Minot, and I will, too, if I buy them myself," she said, piling up cups with an energy that threatened destruction to handles. Miss Bat, who was trailing about the kitchen, with her head pinned up in a little plaid shawl, was so surprised by the demand for a pan of hot water and four clean towels, that she nearly dropped her snuff-box, chief comfort of her lazy soul. "What new whimsey now? Generally, the dishes stand round till I have time to pick `em up, and you are off coasting or careering somewhere. Well, this tidy fit won`t last long, so I may as well make the most of it," said Miss Bat, as she handed out the required articles, and then pushed her spectacles from the tip of her sharp nose to her sharper black eyes for a good look at the girl who stood primly before her, with a clean apron on and her hair braided up instead of flying wildly about her shoulders. "Umph!" was all the comment that Miss Bat made on this unusual neatness, and she went on scraping her saucepans, while Molly returned to her work, very well pleased with the effect of her first step, for she felt that the bewilderment of Miss Bat would be a constant inspiration to fresh efforts. An hour of hard work produced an agreeable change in the abode of the native, for the table was cleared, room swept and dusted, fire brightened, and the holes in the sofa-covering were pinned up till time could be found to mend them. To be sure, rolls of lint lay in corners, smears of ashes were on the stove hearth, and dust still lurked on chair rounds and table legs. But too much must not be expected of a new convert, so the young missionary sat down to rest, well pleased and ready for another attempt as soon as she could decide in what direction it should be made. She quailed before Boo as she looked at the unconscious innocent peacefully playing with the spotted dog, now bereft of his tail, and the lone sausage with which he was attempting to feed the hungry animal, whose red mouth always gaped for more. "It will be an awful job, and he is so happy I won`t plague him yet. Guess I`ll go and put my room to rights first, and pick up some clean clothes to put on him, if he is alive after I get through with him," thought Molly, foreseeing a stormy passage for the boy, who hated a bath as much as some people hate a trip across the Atlantic. Up she went, and finding the fire out felt discouraged, thought she would rest a little more, so retired under the blankets to read one of the Christmas books. The dinner-bell rang while she was still wandering happily in "Nelly`s Silver Mine," and she ran down to find that Boo had laid out a railroad all across her neat room, using bits of coal for sleepers and books for rails, over which he was dragging the yellow sled laden with a dismayed kitten, the tailless dog, and the remains of the sausage, evidently on its way to the tomb, for Boo took bites at it now and then, no other lunch being offered him. "Oh dear! why can`t boys play without making such a mess," sighed Molly, picking up the feathers from the duster with which Boo had been trying to make a "cocky-doo" of the hapless dog. "I`ll wash him right after dinner, and that will keep him out of mischief for a while," she thought, as the young engineer unsuspiciously proceeded to ornament his already crocky countenance with squash, cranberry sauce, and gravy, till he looked more like a Fiji chief in full war-paint than a Christian boy. "I want two pails of hot water, please, Miss Bat, and the big tub," said Molly, as the ancient handmaid emptied her fourth cup of tea, for she dined with the family, and enjoyed her own good cooking in its prime. "What are you going to wash now?" "Boo--I`m sure he needs it enough"; and Molly could not help laughing as the victim added to his brilliant appearance by smearing the colors all together with a rub of two grimy hands, making a fine Turner, of himself. "Now, Maria Louisa Bemis, you ain`t going to cut up no capers with that child! The idea of a hot bath in the middle of the day, and him full of dinner, and croupy into the bargain~ Wet a corner of a towel at the kettle-spout and polish him off if you like, but you won`t risk his life in no bath-tubs this cold day." Miss Bat`s word was law in some things, so Molly had to submit, and took Boo away, saying, loftily, as she left the room, "I shall ask father, and do it to-night, for I will not have my brother look like a pig." "My patience! how the Siamese do leave their things round," she exclaimed, as she surveyed her room after making up the fire and polishing off Boo. "I`ll put things in order, and then mend up my rags, if I can find my thimble. Now, let me see"; and she went to exploring her closet, bureau, and table, finding such disorder everywhere that her courage nearly gave out. She had clothes enough, but all needed care; even her best dress had two buttons off, and her Sunday hat but one string. Shoes, skirts, books, and toys lay about, and her drawers were a perfect chaos of soiled ruffles, odd gloves, old ribbons, boot lacings, and bits of paper. "Oh, my heart, what a muddle! Mrs. Minot wouldn`t think much of me if she could see that," said Molly, recalling how that lady once said she could judge a good deal of a little girl`s character and habits by a peep at her top drawer, and went on, with great success, to guess how each of the school-mates kept her drawer. "Come, missionary, clear up, and don`t let me find such a gloryhole again, or I`ll report you to the society," said Molly, tipping the whole drawer-full out upon the bed, and beguiling the tiresome job by keeping up the new play. Twilight came before it was done, and a great pile of things loomed up on her table, with no visible means of repair--for Molly`s work-basket was full of nuts, and her thimble down a hole in the shed-floor, where the cats had dropped it in their play. "I`ll ask Bat for hooks and tape, and papa for some money to buy scissors and things, for I don`t know where mine are. Glad I can`t do any more now! Being neat is such hard work!" and Molly threw herself down on the rug beside the old wooden cradle in which Boo was blissfully rocking, with a cargo of toys aboard. She watched her time, and as soon as her father had done supper, she hastened to say, before he got to his desk, "Please, papa, I want a dollar to get some brass buttons and things to fix Boo`s clothes with. He wore a hole in his new trousers coasting down the Kembles` steps. And can`t I wash him? He needs it, and Miss Bat won`t let me have a tub." "Certainly, child, certainly; do what you like, only don`t keep me. I must be off, or I shall miss Jackson, and he`s the man I want"; and, throwing down two dollars instead of one, Mr. Bemis hurried away, with a vague impression that Boo had swallowed a dozen brass buttons, and Miss Bat had been coasting somewhere in a bath-pan; but catching Jackson was important, so he did not stop to investigate. Armed with the paternal permission, Molly carried her point, and oh, what a dreadful evening poor Boo spent! First, he was decoyed upstairs an hour too soon, then put in a tub by main force and sternly scrubbed, in spite of shrieks that brought Miss Bat to the locked door to condole with the sufferer, scold the scrubber, and depart, darkly prophesying croup before morning. "He always howls when he is washed; but I shall do it, since you won`t, and he must get used to it. I will not have people tell me he`s neglected, if I can help it," cried Molly, working away with tears in her eyes--for it was as hard for her as for Boo; but she meant to be thorough for once in her life, no matter what happened. When the worst was over, she coaxed him with candy and stories till the long task of combing out the curls was safely done; then, in the clean night-gown with a blue button newly sewed on, she laid him in bed, worn out, but sweet as a rose. "Now, say your prayers, darling, and go to sleep with the nice red blanket all tucked round so you won`t get cold," said Molly, rather doubtful of the effect of the wet head. "No, I won`t! Going to sleep now!" and Boo shut his eyes wearily, feeling that his late trials had not left him in a prayerful mood. "Then you`ll be a real little heathen, as Mrs. Pecq called you, and I don`t know what I shall do with you," said Molly, longing to cuddle rather than scold the little fellow, whose soul needed looking after as well as his body. "No, no; I won`t be a heevin! I don`t want to be frowed to the trockindiles. I will say my prayers! oh, I will!" and, rising in his bed, Boo did so, with the devotion of an infant Samuel, for he remembered the talk when the society was formed. Molly thought her labors were over for that night, and soon went to bed, tired with her first attempts. But toward morning she was wakened by the hoarse breathing of the boy, and was forced to patter away to Miss Bat`s room, humbly asking for the squills, and confessing that the prophecy had come to pass. "I knew it! Bring the child to me, and don`t fret. I`ll see to him, and next time you do as I say," was the consoling welcome she received as the old lady popped up a sleepy but anxious face in a large flannel cap, and shook the bottle with the air of a general who had routed the foe before and meant to do it again. Leaving her little responsibility in Miss Bat`s arms, Molly tired to wet her pillow with a few remorseful tears, and to fall asleep, wondering if real missionaries ever killed their pupils in the process of conversion. So the girls all failed in the beginning; but they did not give up, and succeeded better next time, as we shall see.
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