I.
_PACKING UP._
What a twitter and flutter and chirping there was in the pretty nestwhich Maggie and Bessie Bradford called their own room; for there werefour little girls, who were to start together the next day on theirtravels, and there was so much to be talked over. All the new placesthey were to visit, all the wonderful things they were to see and do;and, more than all, that sea voyage of three or four days. For none ofthem but Belle had ever been to sea, and it would be quite a new thingto all the rest.
Then there was the packing, about which both Maggie and Bessie,especially the former, had been greatly concerned for the last week;for it seemed impossible to them that nurse and Jane could make all thenecessary preparations for this important journey on the day beforethat on which they were to start.
That morning Maggie’s excitement and impatience had overflowed. Wakingat a very early hour, and finding Bessie still sleeping, she lay a fewmoments thinking of all that was to be done that day, and wonderingthat the household should still be so quiet, with the prospect of suchimportant business before them.
“I just expect the end of the matter will be that every one in thehouse, even poor mamma, who is not so very well yet, will have to turnto and help to make up for their pro-cras-to-na-tion!” said she toherself, indignantly; “and I’ve just a great mind to begin packing upmyself, to set them a good example, and make them ashamed of a littlegirl like me taking time by the forelock so much better than they do.”
No sooner said than done; and Maggie scrambled out of bed and intoher dressing-gown and slippers quite forgetting to pause and thinkwhether or no mamma would approve of her running about the house insuch a guise, and if she would not be giving more trouble than help bymeddling with what she did not understand.
Upstairs she trotted to the topmost story, where was a room which Fredcalled the “put-all-room,” and which held, not only trunks and boxesof all shapes and sizes, but a couple of great, old-fashioned presses,and many another article not in common daily use, and stored there tobe out of the way. The children thought it rather a treat to go innow and then with mamma or nurse, to rummage there and see what theycould spy out: but none of them had ever gone there alone or withoutpermission; and if Maggie had taken time to reflect, I think she wouldhave known that her mamma would not wish her to do so, though she hadnever positively forbidden it.
But just now the busy little head was too full of plans for makingherself useful, to take heed of any thing else; and finding what shehad hoped for, that the door was unlocked, she opened it, and went in.The trunks were not piled together at one end as they usually were, butstood singly, here and there about the room, just as Patrick had leftthem the day before, when he had examined them to see if they were ingood order; and this Maggie observed with great satisfaction.
“It just seems as if it was fixed to be convenient for me,” she saidto herself; “and now I can try which is the heaviest one I can pull. Iknow I could not take those largest downstairs, but I think I could oneof the middlings.”
But, after various trials, she found to her great disappointment, thatshe could by no means move even one of the “middlings;” and was atlast forced to content herself with a small black leather trunk, inwhich she thought she would put some of her own and Bessie’s clothes.
“For a pack in time saves nine,” said Maggie to herself; “and even ifit does not hold much, this little trunk is a better beginning thannothing.”
Having fixed upon this prize, she contrived with some trouble to dragit from the room, and push and pull it to the head of the stairs. Buthere a new difficulty arose. She could by no means lift the trunk andcarry it down: small as it was for the amount of packing she wished todo, it was quite too heavy for her little strength; and though for onemoment she thought of pushing it over the edge of the top stair, andallowing it to slide down by its own weight, she soon reflected thiswould not do.
“For it will just go and smash itself all to pieces, I suppose, andthen make a horrid noise to wake the people all up,” she said again,feeling rather vexed with the innocent trunk. “Oh! I know what I’lldo: I’ll go in front of it and pull it down very gently, one step at atime.”
But in spite of all the pains she took, the trunk seemed to Maggie tomake the most outrageous noise, sliding over each stair with a gratingsound, and coming down from the edge of one to another with a thump anda bang, which all her efforts could not silence. She was soon heartilysorry that she had ever touched it; but she must go on now, for shecould not possibly pull it up again, and if she left her hold of it, itwould go tumbling headlong to the bottom.
However, she took heart of grace again by the time she had reached thefoot of the top flight, for no one seemed to have been disturbed; theservants having all gone down stairs, and the boys, who slept in thethird story, being sound sleepers. So she concluded to go on and nothave all her pains thrown away; but she had gone only two or threesteps on the second flight, her troublesome prize bumping after her,when she heard her father’s voice from below.
“What are you busy with there, Patrick?” he said. “You are disturbingMrs. Bradford, and will wake the children. Leave it till later in theday.”
“O papa!” said Maggie, feeling rather guilty, and very much mortified,“it’s not Patrick, but me;” and as she spoke, she appeared round theturn of the stairs, while her attention being for the moment diverted,the trunk slid after her with a bang which seemed to jar the house.
“You, my daughter!” said Mr. Bradford, coming up to where Maggie stood;“and what _are_ you doing here at this time in the morning?” and helooked down in great surprise at the small figure whose cheeks matchedher scarlet dressing-gown, and whose curls were tossed and tumbled inthe wildest confusion.
“It’s this mean old trunk, papa,” said Maggie, pettishly; “the moreI try to make it go softly, the more it won’t, but just squeaks andbumps all it can, the horrid thing!” and now she gave up the trunk verywillingly into her father’s strong grasp.
“What were you doing with it?” asked Mr. Bradford.
“Taking it downstairs, so I could pack it with my things and Bessie’s,papa. I wanted to take mamma by surprise to see how useful I could be.”
“You have taken mamma rather too much by surprise,” said her father,unable to help smiling; “for you have wakened and startled her. Itis well to try to be useful, but one should try to be thoughtfuland considerate at the same time, or our pains will be quite thrownaway, as yours are now. You must go back to your bed, my daughter,and let this trunk alone;” and lifting the trunk he carried it to thethird-story hall, Maggie looking on with a very crestfallen feeling.
“It may stay there till we see if it is needed,” said Mr. Bradford,soothingly, as he saw her disturbed face; “and by and by, at theproper time, you may ask mamma if you can help her;” and taking thelittle hand which was trembling with cold and over-exertion, he led herback to her own room. Papa had been very kind, and could scarcely besaid to have found fault with her; but Maggie, who began to feel thatshe had been somewhat to blame, would rather have been scolded thanhear him laugh as he did when he told mamma how and where he had foundher. She did not hear what he said, but she knew very well what he wastalking about, and drew the bed-clothes over her head that she mightshut out the sound of his laughter.
“It’s too bad,” she thought: “most always when I try to be verysuperior, I make a mistake and people laugh at me about it. I feel asif I’d like to be mad at some one, but I can’t be mad at papa, and Idon’t want to be mad at myself, ’cause I didn’t mean to do wrong; andit’s no use to be mad at the trunk, but I b’lieve I do feel a littleprovoked at it, it has made my hands hurt, and my arms do ache so.I’m real tired too.” And coming to the surface for air, Maggie turnedover on her side, and presently dropped off into a sound morning nap;so that when nurse came to tell her she might get up, she found herstill sleeping instead of wide awake as usual, and was bidden by Mrs.Bradford to let her sleep as long as she wou
ld after her exertion.
Maggie was rather subdued and quiet all the first part of the morning,and more than ever grateful to papa, when she found that he had nottold the boys, and so given them the opportunity to tease and laugh ather.
“I suppose you couldn’t let me help you after my _unconsiderate_unusefulness this morning: could you, mamma?” she said, when she sawher mother gathering together the articles Jane was to stow in thetrunks.
“Well, yes: I think I can find something for you and Bessie to do,”said mamma: “you may take all these tapes, needles, spools, and soforth, into your own room, and see how neatly you can put them intothis box; and all these ribbons may go into that one.”
“Oh! thank you, mamma: I will let Bessie do the ribbons, ’cause theyare the prettiest;” and away ran generous Maggie with her sister tobegin the pleasant task.
That done, mamma gave them leave to pack the clothes belonging to MissBessie Margaret Marian, and Miss Margaret Colonel Horace Rush Bradford,in another box; saying that since she did not feel as if she could dowithout her own little daughters, she would not ask them to leave thewhole of their large family behind, and thought the dolls might prove agreat diversion when they were tired, or perhaps shut up in some hotelon a rainy day.
They were busy deciding what dresses should be taken and what left,when Mrs. Norris came round to see Mrs. Bradford for a few moments,bringing Lily with her; and while the ladies talked in one room, thelittle girls chattered away in the other, Belle coming in about thesame time.
“Oh!” said Lily, “is your mamma going to let you take your large dolls?my mamma will only let me take a tiny, weeny one that can go in atravelling-bag.”
“I wouldn’t take any then,” said Belle. “I’m going to take my largest,biggest one of all.”
“Not Belle Maggie Bessie?” questioned Maggie.
“Yes: Belle Maggie Bessie!” repeated Belle, in a tone of determinedobstinacy and snappishness, which showed that the subject was a soreone with her.
“But your papa said last night that you could not take her, ’cause sucha large doll would be too much trouble,” said Bessie.
“Well, anyhow, I’m going to: he said I could this morning,” answeredBelle.
“Then you cried and cried and bothered him, till he said yes: I knowyou,” said Maggie, reproachfully.
“I don’t care,” said Belle; but she did care, and now was ashamedthat her little playmates should guess how she had worried her tooindulgent papa.
“You might repent yet and tell him you won’t take her,” said Bessie.
“Yes, do, and make a Rip Van Winkle of her,” said Maggie.
“I shan’t make her that ugly thing, and I shall take her,” said Belle,indignantly.
“You needn’t be so cross,” said Maggie: “Bessie and I made all ourother dolls Rip Van Winkles and William Tells, and it was good fun.Don’t you want to see them, Lily?”
Lily assented; and, opening a deep drawer in the bureau, Maggie showedher all the various dolls belonging to herself and Bessie, lying withbandages on their eyes.
“I don’t see what you call them William Tells and that other name for,”said Lily. “William Tell was the man Miss Ashton told us about, whoshot an apple off his son’s head.”
“Yes,” answered Maggie; “and we told Harry and Fred about it, but theyknew before, and told us that the Swiss people believe that he and hiscompanions went fast asleep in a cave for a great many hundred years,and some day they would wake up and rule over them.”
“And who was the Winkle man?” asked Belle.
“He was another old fellow who went up into the mountains and went tosleep for ever so many years; and when he woke up nobody knew him,and he did not know anybody. Harry told us about him. I don’t see howpeople can be so foolish as to sleep for so long; but it came into myhead to make our dolls Rip Van Winkles and William Tells till we cameback, and then we wouldn’t feel as if they were so lonely when theywere asleep all the time.”
“It’s only pretend, you know, and one can make b’lieve about dollseven better than about people,” said Bessie. “And it’s a great reliefto suffering to go to sleep and forget it,” she added, as gravelyas though there were no “pretend” about it, and the dolls were realchildren, feeling deeply the separation from their little mammas.
“That’s a very nice thing to do. You do make such nice plays, Maggie,”said Lily, admiringly. “I shall do it with my dolls: you’d better too,Belle.”
“Well, I don’t know; but I’m going to think about it,” said Belle, inwhose little heart Maggie’s reproach had awakened a feeling of remorsefor the selfishness and obstinacy she had shown about her doll. “Ib’lieve Belle Maggie Bessie _is_ most too large. I can’t carry her muchmyself, and papa did say she’d be in everybody’s way. I guess I’ll makea William Tell of her, if Maggie and Bessie will let me put her withtheirs.”
“Yes, we will; and you can take a doll of moderation,” said Maggie,meaning that Belle could take a doll of moderate size.
“Do you think you’ll be seasick on the steamer?” asked Lily.
“Pooh! no, I shan’t. I won’t be,” said Maggie.
“Perhaps you can’t help it,” said Belle. “I’m sure I didn’t mean to beseasick when I came here in the steamer, but I couldn’t help it; and ohdear!--it’s--it is horrid.”
“Is being seasick any thing like being homesick?” asked Bessie.
“Not exactly; but the two things very often go together, darling,” saidAunt Bessie, laughing, and speaking from the next room.
“Then I’m more determined than ever not to be it,” said Maggie, meaningseasick by “it.” “But then I couldn’t be homesick either, when I haveso many of my own home people with me.”
But, in spite of her determination, Maggie had privately a great dreadof this same seasickness. She could not bear to be sick; not that shewas impatient or cross when this was the case with her, but that shethought sickness, like sleep, was “a great waste of being alive.” Shewanted to be able to run about and amuse herself all the time; and itwas “such fun” to go to sea, that she was very much afraid lest anything should interfere with her enjoyment of it.
“They give people sour things when they are seasick,” said Belle, who,having once suffered in this way, thought herself entitled to give allnecessary information on the subject. “That’s the only nice thing aboutit. They gave me lots of sour oranges and lemons.”
“But Bessie and I don’t like sour things, so that won’t make it anybetter for us,” said Maggie, soberly. Nevertheless, she treasuredBelle’s remark; and not seeing her way clearly to a private stockof oranges and lemons, she watched her opportunity when her littleplaymates were gone, and taking Patrick into her confidence, beggedhim to give her “two pickles and a whole lot of vinegar,” not to eatherself, because mamma would not allow that, but to be prepared, whenall the rest of the family were seasick and she had to take care ofthem.
The good-natured Irishman, expressing great admiration at the“forethought of her,” furnished her with what she wanted; and Maggiewent off, rejoicing in her spoils.
The pickles were stowed away in the soup-tureen belonging to her doll’sdinner-set; and she contrived, when nurse and Jane were not looking, toslip them into a corner of one of the trunks. The vinegar she pouredinto a vial she had also obtained from Patrick; and as the cork did notfit very tightly, and she feared the liquid might run out if she put itinto the trunk, she hid it in her bosom, heroically enduring the smellof the vinegar, which was exceedingly disagreeable to her, “for thesake of my family,” as she told Bessie.
For Bessie’s quick little nose soon smelt out the vinegar, which shealso disliked very much; and after several sniffs and exclamationsof disgust from her, and much wondering as to where that “horrid,vinegarish smell did come from,” Maggie felt forced to tell her thesecret which she had meant to keep until they were safely on board thesteamer.
But Bessie was by no means so struck with admiration as P
atrick hadbeen, and for once did not think Maggie’s plan a good one; at least notunless she could be persuaded to tell her mamma of it.
“For you know, dear Maggie,” she said with a doubtful shake of herhead, “mamma does not like us to keep secrets from her; and don’t youthink she will know what is best to take?”
“Well, I don’t know,” said Maggie, unwilling to give up her cherishedplan; “maybe she won’t think about sour things, and I’m sure she’d bevery thankful when she’s seasick, and finds an unexpected pickle juston hand.”
“I think she’ll like it just as well if she knows about it before,”said Bessie. “And I don’t believe it is quite right; and, besides, itis such a very bad-smelling secret to have. Tell her, and see what shewill say.”
But even as they were talking, they found that the “bad-smellingsecret” had betrayed itself; for nurse, going to finish the packing ofthe trunk where the pickles were concealed, also perceived the scent ofvinegar.
“What have you been putting in here that smells so of vinegar?” shesaid to Jane.
“Nothing,” was the answer. “I’ve had no vinegar.”
“But it’s here, surely,” said nurse, sniffing around in her turn: “it’sabout this trunk, spilled on something I suppose: that’s some of yourcarelessness, Jane.” And Mammy, who was rather apt to snub her youngerhelpmate, lifted several articles in turn to her nose.
“Oh dear! I’ll have to tell: she’s scolding poor Janey for it,”whispered Maggie, in great dismay.
“What’s this?” exclaimed nurse, when, having pulled out half a dozenthings, she came upon the tiny tureen. “Pickles! and the vinegardribbled out of them on the master’s clean shirts. Well! that naughtyFrankie! he’s gone beyond himself in such a trick as that. He’s beenbusy with your doll’s china, Maggie, my honey; but where in the worlddid he lay his mischievous hands on pickles? I’ll just speak my mind toPatrick for leaving them in the child’s reach. Pickles indeed! but he’sa pickle!”
This was too much for Maggie. She could not hear her little brother andPatrick blamed, and she spoke out at once.
“It was not Frankie who put them there,” she said: “it was I, and Iwant them to stay there.”
“Indeed, they’ll not then,” said nurse. “Ye know your mother never letsye touch them; and what a way would that be to take them anyhow? Whatails ye the day, Maggie? I think the spirit of mischief has hold of ye.”
Maggie was displeased in her turn, and, as usual, was dignified andmade use of all the long words she could think of, which were suitableto the case.
“If you interfere with my pickle arrangements, I shall not beresponsible for the seasickness,” she said solemnly.
“Responsible for the seasickness! I should think not,” said nurse,forgetting her vexation in her amusement, and bursting into a heartylaugh, in which she was joined by Jane; while Maggie stood swelling andindignant; “responsible for the seasickness! and what put that intoyour head, my lamb, and what do you think pickles stuffed into trunkshave to do with it?”
But Maggie was too much hurt and disappointed to answer, and could onlyreply with a nod to Bessie’s plea that she would let her explain.
This was soon done; and nurse, sorry to see Maggie so grieved, said,--
“The pickles would have done ye little good packed away in the trunkwhich ye will not see till we come to land again, honey; and don’t yefret your little soul about it, for your mamma has provided all thingsneedful; and I promise you if all the rest are taken down but yourself,ye shall play nurse to your heart’s content, and wait on everybody. Yedid mean to be considerate and thoughtful, I’m sure; but it’s alwaysbest for such young heads to take counsel of those that are wiser andolder in such things.”
Having allowed so much to be confessed, Maggie thought she might aswell make a clean breast of the whole affair; and produced the bottleof vinegar, with many entreaties to be allowed to keep it. Nurse shookher head; but Mrs. Bradford came into the room just then, and sheturned the matter over to her.
Mamma laughed too when she heard the story, and told Maggie to giveup her pickles and vinegar, and she would provide her with somethingbetter; so taking both the little girls into her own room, shedelighted them by presenting each with a beautiful morocco satchel,just of a right size for small travellers, and with lock and key allcomplete, to say nothing of a light chain by which they could be hungover the shoulder.
Maggie was farther consoled by a bottle of smelling salts, oneof hartshorn, and three lemons; and this she appeared to think asufficient safeguard against seasickness for all the passengers andcrew of the steamer. For the rest of the day her restless energiesfound satisfaction in locking and unlocking, arranging and rearrangingthis satchel and its contents, and the busy head and fingers were keptfrom farther mischief or hindering “help.”