CHAPTER XI
THE LITTLE GIRL IN POLITICS
A whole week of holidays! Jim and Benny Frank had their mother almostwild, and Martha said "she would be dead in another week. If Christmascame twice a year there would be no money nor no people left. They wouldbe all worn out."
It was splendid winter weather. Sunny and just warm enough to thaw andsettle the snow during the day and freeze it up again at night. Thenthere came another small fall of snow to whiten up the streets and makethe air gayer than ever with bells.
The Morgan cousins had to go down and call on Miss Dolly Beekman, andwere very favorably impressed with her. The little girl went with themto Cherry Street and had "just a beautiful time with the kitty," shetold her mother. Her blue woollen frock was full of white cat-hairs as amemento. She went to tea with the little Dean girls, she spent anafternoon with Nora, and had the little girls in to visit her. Margaretplayed on the piano and they had a charming dance, beside playing "Hotbutter blue beans," which was no end of fun.
On New Year's Day everybody had "calls." Margaret was hardly considereda young lady, but Miss Cynthia came to help entertain. It was reallyvery pleasant. A number of family relatives called in, some of whom theyhad not seen since they came to the city. They were all rathermiddle-aged, though Joe brought in his chum, a very handsome young manwho had graduated with his class but was two years older. Margaret wasquite abashed by Doctor Hoffman's attention to her, and his saying heshould take her good wishes as a happy omen for his New Year. Indeed,she was very glad to have Miss Cynthia come to the rescue in her airyfashion.
Late in the afternoon the Odells drove down. The little girls wentup-stairs to see the Christmas things and the lovely doll for whom noname had been good enough. John had a fire in his room and it was niceand warm, so he told them they might go up there. They played "mother"and "visiting," and wound up with a splendid game of "Puss in theCorner." There were only four pussies and they could have but threecorners, but it was no end of fun dodging about, and if they did squeal,the folks down in the parlor hardly heard them.
Saturday was Saturday everywhere. It was "Ladies' day" too. But peoplehad to clear up their houses and begin a new week, a new year, as well,for it was 1844.
The little girl wondered what made the years. Mrs. Craven explained thatthe recurrence of the four seasons governed them, and some ratherlearned reasons the child could not understand. But she said:
"It seems to me the year ought to begin in spring and not the middle ofthe winter."
Ophelia came home, she was Mrs. Davis now, and they had a grand partywith music and dancing and a supper, and Nora wore her pretty new silkfrock. Then Mrs. Davis went down-town to be near her husband's business,and started housekeeping in three rooms.
The next great event on the block was a children's party. They werechildren then until they were at least sixteen. Miss Lily Ludlow and hersister had ten dollars sent to each of them as a Christmas gift. Chriswent out straightway and bought a new coat. Lily's was new the winterbefore. There were a great many things she needed, but most of all shewanted a party. She had been to two already.
"What a silly idea!" said her father.
But Lily kept tight hold of her idea and her money, and the last ofJanuary, with Chris' help, she brought it about. They took the bedsteadout of the back parlor and changed the furniture around. And though hermother called it foolishness, she baked some tiny biscuits and made abatch of crullers and boiled a ham. Lily bought fancy cakes, mottoes,candies, and nuts, and a few oranges which were very expensive.
The Underhill boys were invited, of course. Benny said "he didn'tbelieve he would go. He shouldn't know what to do at a party."
"Why, follow your nose," laughed Jim. "Do just as the rest do. Don't bea gump!"
"And I hate to be fooling round girls."
"You don't seem to mind Dele Whitney. You're just cracked about her."
I don't know how the boys of that day managed without the useful andpithy word "mashed."
"It's no such thing, Jim Underhill! She's always down-stairs with hermother. I go in to see Mr. Theodore;" yet Ben's face was scarlet.
"You know you like her," teasingly.
"I _do_ like her. And it's awful mean not to ask her when she's in thesame crowd and lives on the block. But she doesn't care. She wouldn'tgo."
"Sour grapes." Jim made a derisive face.
"You shut up about it."
"Don't get wrathy, Benjamin Franklin."
When his mother said "Benny Frank," he thought it the best name in thewhole world. Perhaps part was due to his mother's tone. And Ben was asplendid boy's name. But his schoolmates did torment him. They asked himif he had finished his roll, and if he had any to give away. Theypestered him about flying his kite, and inquired what he said to theKing of France when he went abroad--if it was "_parley vous de donkey_."If there is anything the average school-boy can turn into ridicule hedoes it. When Jim wanted to be exasperating he gave him his whole name.And then Ben wished he had been called plain John, even if there hadbeen two in the family.
But the day of the party Jim coaxed him, and Jim could be irresistible.Then Margaret said: "Oh, yes, I think I would go." She fixed up both ofthe boys, and scented their handkerchiefs with her "triple extract," andhoped they would have a nice time, insisting that one needn't be afraidof girls.
Of course they did, especially Jim. He was in for all the fun andfrolic, and the kissing didn't worry him a bit when the "forfeits" wereannounced. He didn't mind how deep he "stood in the well," nor how highthe tree was from which they "picked cherries." Ben _could_ rise to anemergency if he was not praying for it every moment.
Chris was a great card. She could not help wishing that she knew enoughyoung people in her social round to ask to a party. There were enoughyoung ladies, but a "hen party" wasn't much fun. She made herself veryagreeable to the Underhill boys, and wished in the sweetest of tones"that she _did_ know their sister Margaret."
There were a good many imperfect lessons the next day, but the party wasthe great topic. Hosts of girls were "mad."
"I couldn't ask everybody. The house wouldn't hold them," declared Lily.But she took great comfort in thinking she had "paid out" several girlsagainst whom she had a little grudge. And the "left-outs" declared theywouldn't have gone anyhow. It must be admitted that the party didadvance Lily socially.
The family had hardly recovered from this spasm of gayety when Stepheninsisted that Margaret should go to a Valentine's ball at the AstorHouse, to be given to the ladies by a club of bachelors. He was going totake Dolly. Mrs. Bond would be there, and Dolly came up to coax herprospective mother-in-law. "Margaret had not gone into any society andwas only a school-girl, altogether too young to have her head filledwith such nonsense," with many more reasons and conjunctions. Dolly wasso sweet and persuasive, and said the simplest white gown would do,young girls really didn't dress much. Then Margaret would have it readyfor her graduation. They would be sure to send her home early and takethe best of care of her.
Joe said: "Why, of course she must go. It wasn't like being amongstrangers with Dolly and her people." So the boys and Dolly carried theday. All the while Margaret's heart beat with an unaccustomed throb. Shedid not really know whether she wanted to go or not.
St. Valentine's Day was held in high repute then. You sent your bestgirl the prettiest valentine your purse could afford, and she laid itaway in lavender to show to her children. Bashful young fellows oftenasked the momentous question in that manner. There were some lovelyones, with original verses written in, for there were young bards inthose days who struggled over birthday and valentine verses, and whowould have scorned second-hand protestations.
Though Margaret didn't get any valentines the little girl received threethat were extremely pretty. She asked Steve if he didn't send one.
"Oh, dear," he answered, as if he were amazed at the question, "I had tospend all my money buying Dolly one." And Joe pretended to be sosurprised. He had spent his mone
y for Margaret's sash and gloves andbunch of flowers. Even John would not own up to the soft impeachmentand declared, "Your lovers sent them."
"But I haven't any lovers," said the little girl, in all innocence.
She used to read them to her mother, and ask her which she thought camefrom Steve, which from Joe and John. It was quite funny, though, thatNora Whitney had one exactly like one of hers. And even Mr. Theodoredeclared he didn't send them.
Margaret looked like an angel, the little girl thought. Her whitecashmere frock was simply made, with a lace frill about the neck and atthe edge of the short sleeves. Her broad blue satin sash was elegant.Miss Cynthia came and plaited her beautiful hair in a marvellousopenwork sort of braid, and she had two white roses and a silver arrowin it. Her slippers were white kid, her gloves had just a cream tint,and Miss Cynthia brought her own opera cloak, which was light brocadedsilk, wadded and edged with swans-down.
Joe looked just splendid, the little girl decided. If she could onlyhave seen Dolly!
The Beekman coach was sent up for Margaret, who kissed her little sisterand went off like Cinderella!
"Oh, do you suppose she will meet the king's son?" asked Hanny, allexcitement.
"Oh, child, what nonsense!" exclaimed her mother.
It wasn't the king's son; but young Doctor Hoffman was there, andMargaret danced several times with him. They talked so much about Joethat Margaret felt very friendly with him.
After that the world ran on in snow, in sunshine, and in rain. The daysgrew longer. March was rough and blowy. Mother Underhill had to go up inthe country for a week, for Grandfather Van Kortlandt died. He had beenout of health and paralyzed for a year or two. Aunt Katrina had beenstaying there, and they would go on in the old house until spring. Shewas grandmother's sister. Of course no one could feel very sorry aboutpoor old Uncle Nickie, as he was called. He had always been ratherqueer, and was no comfort to himself, for he had lost his mind, buteverybody admitted that grandmother had done her duty, and the VanKortlandt children, grown men and women, thanked her for all her goodcare.
Oh, what fun the children had on the first of April! What rags werepinned to people--what shrieks of "My cat's got a long tail!" And thereon the sidewalk would lay a tempting half-dollar with a string out ofsight, and when the pedestrian stooped to pick it up--presto! how itwould vanish. When one enterprising wight put his foot on it and pickedit up triumphantly the boys called out:
"April fool! That's an awful sell, mister! It's a bad half-dollar."
They watched and saw him bite it and throw it down. Then they went afterit and had their fun over and over again. Stephen had given thehalf-dollar to Jim with strict injunctions not to attempt to pass it orhe'd get a "hiding," which no one ever did in the Underhill family. Mrs.Underhill declared "'Milyer was as easy as an old shoe, and she didn'tsee what had kept the children from going to ruin." Joe always insisted"it was pure native goodness."
Then they called out to the carters and other wagoners: "Oh, mister,say! Your wheel's goin' round!" And sometimes without understanding thedriver would look and hear the shout.
They had another trick they played out in the Bowery. Boys had areprehensible trick of "cutting behind," as the stages had two steps atthe back, and the boys used to spring on them and steal rides. It wassuch a sight of fun to dodge the whip and spring off at the rightmoment. Sometimes a cross-grained passenger who had been a very good boyin his youth would tell.
On this day they didn't steal the ride. They called out with greatapparent honesty: "Cuttin' behind, driver--two boys!"
Then the driver would slash his whip furiously, and even the passers-bywould enjoy the joke. Of course you could only play that once on eachdriver.
Altogether it was a day of days. You were fooled, of course; no one wassmart enough to keep quite clear. But almost everybody was good-naturedabout it. Martha found some eggs that had been "blown," and a potatofilled with ashes, and there were inventions that would have done creditto the "pixies."
The little girl would not go out to play in the afternoon, and shedidn't even run when Jim said, "Nora wanted her for something special."But she really had no conscience about fooling her father several times.He pretended to be so surprised, and said, "Oh, you little witch!" Itwas a day on which you had need to keep your wits about you.
Then with the long days and the sunshine came so many things. Littlegirls skipped rope and rolled hoops, their guiding-sticks tied with abright ribbon. The boys had iron hoops and an iron guider, and they madea musical jingle as they went along. There were kites too, but youdidn't catch Benny Frank flying one. And marbles and ball. In theafternoon the streets seemed alive with children. But what would thosepeople have said to the five-story tenement-houses with their motleycrew! Then Ludlow and Allen and many another street wore such a cleanand quaint aspect, and the ladies sat at their parlor windows in theafternoon sewing and watching their little ones.
"Ring-a-round-a-rosy" began again. And dear me, there were so manysigns! You must not step on a crack in the flagging or somethingdreadful would happen to you. And you mustn't pick up a pin with thepoint toward you or you would surely be disappointed. If the head wastoward you, you could pick it up and make a wish which would be sure tocome to pass. You must cut your finger-nails Monday morning beforebreakfast and you would get a present before the week was out. And ifyou walked straight to school that morning you were likely to have goodlessons, but if you loitered or stopped to play or were late, bad luckwould follow you all the week. And the little girls used to say:
"Lesson, lesson, come to me, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, three, Thursday, Friday, then you may Have a rest on Saturday,"
So you see a little girl's life was quite a weighty matter.
That summer political excitement ran high. Indeed, it had begun in thewinter. A new party had nominated Mr. James Harper for mayor, and inthe spring he had been elected. Mr. Theodore used to pause and discussmen and measures now that it was getting warm enough to sit out on thestoop and read your paper. Country habits were not altogether tabooed.But what impressed his honor the mayor most strongly on the littlegirl's mind was something Aunt Nancy Archer, who was now an earnestMethodist, said when she was up to tea one evening.
"I did look to see Brother Harper set up a little. It's only natural,you know, and I can't quite believe in perfection. But there he was inclass-meeting, not a mite changed, just as friendly and earnest as ever,not a bit lifted up because he had been called to the highest positionin the city."
"There's no doubt but he will make a good mayor," rejoined Mr.Underhill. "He's a good, honest man. And all the brothers are capablemen, men who are able to pull together. I'm not sure but we'll have togo outside of party lines a little. It ought to broaden a man to be in abig city."
The little girl slipped her hand in Aunt Nancy's.
"Is he your school-teacher?" she ventured timidly.
"School-teacher? Why, no, child!" in surprise.
"You said class----"
"You'll have to be careful, Aunt Nancy. That little girl has aninquiring mind," laughed her father.
"Yes. It's a church class. I belong to the same church as BrotherHarper. We're old-fashioned Methodists. We go to this class to tell ourreligious experiences. You are not old enough to understand that. But wetalk over our troubles and trials, and tell of our blessings too, Ihope, and then Brother Harper has a good word for us. He comforts uswhen we are down at the foot of the hill, and he gives us a word ofwarning if he thinks we are climbing heights we're not quite fitted for.He makes a comforting prayer."
"I should like to see him," said the little girl.
"Well, get your father to bring you down to church some Sunday. Do,Vermilye."
"Any time she likes," said her father.
They talked on, but Hanny went off into a little dreamland of her own.She was not quite clear what a mayor's duty was, only he was a greatman. And her idea of his not being set up, as Aunt Nancy had phrased it,was that there was
a great handsome chair, something like a throne, thathad been arranged for him, and he had come in and taken a common seat.She was to have a good deal of hero-worship later on, and be roused andstirred by Carlyle, but there was never anything finer than theadmiration kindled in her heart just then.
After Aunt Nancy went away she crept into her father's lap.
"Aren't you glad Mr. Harper's our mayor?" she asked. "Did everybody votefor him? Do girls--big girls--and women vote?"
"No, dear. Men over twenty-one are the only persons entitled to vote.Steve and Joe and I voted. And it's too bad, but John can't put in hisvote for President this fall."
"The mayor governs the city, and the governor, the State. What does thePresident do?"
Her father explained the most important duties to her, and that aPresident was elected every four years. That was the highest office inthe country.
"And who is going to be our President?" She was getting to be a partywoman already.
"Well, it looks as if Henry Clay would. We shall all work for him."
If it only wouldn't come bedtime so soon!
The little girl studied and played with a will. She could skip rope likea little fairy, but it had been quite a task to drive her hoop straight.She was unconsciously inclined to make "the line of beauty." I don'tknow that it was always graceful, either.
Some new people moved in the block. Just opposite there was a tall thinwoman who swept and dusted and scrubbed until Steve said "he was afraidthere wouldn't be enough dirt left to bury her with." She wore fadedmorning-gowns and ragged checked aprons, and had her head tied up withsomething like a turban, only it was grayish and not pretty. She did notalways get dressed up by afternoon. Oh, how desperately clean she was!Even her sidewalk had a shiny look, and as for her door brasses, theyoutdid the sun.
She had one boy, about twelve perhaps. And his name was John RobertCharles Reed. He was fair, well dressed, and so immaculately clean thatJim said he'd give a dollar, if he could ever get so much moneytogether, just to roll him in the dirt. His mother always gave him hisfull name. He went to a select school, but when he was starting away inthe morning his mother would call two or three times to know if he hadall of his books, if he had a clean handkerchief, and if he was sure hisshoes were tied, and his clothes brushed.
And one day a curious sort of carriage went by, a chair on wheels, and aman was pushing it while a lady walked beside it. In the chair was amost beautiful girl or child, fair as a lily, with long light curls andthe whitest of hands. Hanny watched in amazement, and then went in totell her mother. "She looks awful pale and sick," said Hanny.
Josie Dean found out presently who she was. She had come to one of thehouses that had the pretty gardens in front. She had been very ill, andshe couldn't walk a step. And her name was Daisy Jasper.
Such a beautiful name, and not to be able to run and play! Oh, howpitiful it was!
The little girl had her new spring and summer clothes made. They werevery nice, but somehow she did not feel as proud of them as she had lastsummer. Her father took her to Aunt Nancy's church one Sunday. It wasvery large and plain and full of people. Aunt Nancy sat pretty well up,but they found her. There seemed a good many old men and women, Hannythought, but the young people were up in the galleries. She thought thesinging was splendid, it really went up with a shout. People sang inearnest then.
When they came out everybody shook hands so cordially. Aunt Nancy waiteda little while and then beckoned a tall, kindly looking man, who wasabout as old as her father, though there was something quite differentabout him. He shook hands with Sister Archer, and she introduced him. Hesaid he was very glad to see Mr. Underhill among them, and smiled downat the little girl as he took her small hand. She came home quitedelighted that she had shaken hands with the mayor. Then one day Stevetook her and Ben down to Cliff Street, through the wonderfulprinting-house, small in comparison to what it is to-day. They met themayor again and had a nice chat.
The next great thing to Hanny was Margaret's graduation. She had beenstudying very hard to pass this year, for she was past eighteen, and shewas very successful. Even Joe found time to go down. She wore her prettywhite dress, but she had a white sash, and her bodice had been turned inround the neck to make it low, as girls wore them then. Hanny thoughther the prettiest girl there. She had an exquisite basket of flowerssent her, beside some lovely bouquets. Annette Beekman graduated too,and all the Beekman family were out in force.
There were some very pretty closing exercises in the little girl'sschool, and at Houston Street Jim was one of the orators of the day, anddistinguished himself in "Marco Bozzaris," one of the great poems ofthat period.
After that people went hither and thither, and when schools opened andbusiness started up the Presidential campaign was in full blast. Therewas Clay and Frelinghuysen, Polk and Dallas, and at the last moment theNationals, a new party, had put up candidates, which was considered badfor the Whigs. Still they shouted and sang with great gusto:
"Hurrah, hurrah, the country's risin' For Harry Clay and Frelinghuysen!"
The Democrats, Loco-Focos, as they were often called in derision, werevery sure of their victory. So were the Whigs. The other party did notreally expect success. There were parades of some kind nearly everynight. Even the boys turned out and marched up and down with fife anddrum. There was no end of spirited campaign songs, and rhymes of everydegree. The Loco Foco Club at school used to sing:
"Oh, poor old Harry Clay! Oh, poor old Harry Clay! You never can be President For Polk stands in the way."
Nora Whitney used to rock in the big chair with kitty in her arms, andthis was her version:
"Oh, poor old pussy gray! Oh, poor old pussy gray! You never can be President For Polk stands in the way."
This didn't tease the little girl nearly so much, for she knew no matterhow sweet and lovely and good a cat might be, it could only aspire tothat honor in catland. She did so hate to hear Mr. Clay called old andpoor when he was neither. To her he was brave Harry of the West, thehero of battle-fields.
Jim had a rather hard time as well. He thought, with a boy's loyalty,his people must be right. But there was Lily, who, with all _her_people, was a rabid Democrat. He quite made up his mind he wouldn't keepin with her, but the two girls he liked next best had Democraticaffiliations also.
Then the Whigs had a grand procession. Perhaps it would have been thepart of wisdom to wait until the victory was assured, but the leadersthought it best to arouse enthusiasm to the highest pitch.
Stephen had joined with some friends and hired a window down Broadway.The little girl thought it a very magnificent display. Such bands ofstrikingly dressed men marching to inspiriting music, their torchesflaring about in vivid rays, such carriage loads, such wagonsrepresenting different industries, and there was the grand Ship ofState, drawn by white horses, four abreast, and gayly attired, in whichHenry Clay was to sail successfully into the White House. After thatimposing display the little girl had no fear at all. Jim was verytoploftical to Miss Lily for several days.
Then came the fatal day. There were no telegraphs to flash the news allover the country before midnight. A small one connected Baltimore andWashington, but long distance was considered chimerical.
So they had to wait and wait. Fortunes varied. At last reliable accountscame, and Polk had stood in the way, or perhaps Mr. Binney, the thirdcandidate, had taken too many votes. Anyhow, the day was lost to braveHarry of the West.
The little girl was bitterly disappointed. She would have liked all thefamily to tie a black crape around their arms, as Joe had once when hewent to a great doctor's funeral. Dele teased her a good deal, and Norasang:
"Hurrah, old pussy gray! Hurrah, old pussy gray! We've got the President and all, And Polk has won the day."
Then the Democrats had _their_ grand procession. The houses wereilluminated, the streets were full of shouting children. Even the boyshad a small brigade that marched up and down the st
reet. And oh, grief,Jim marched with them!
"I wouldn't be such a turn-coat!" declared the little girl angrily. "I'mashamed of you, James Underhill. I shall always feel as if you wasn't mybrother any more."
"Sho!" returned Jim. "Half the boys turning out have Whig fathers! Therewouldn't have been enough for any sort of procession without us. Andthey promised to cry quits if we would turn out. It don't mean anythingbut fun!"
She took her trouble to her father. "You are sorry we have been beaten?"she said excitedly.
"Yes, pussy, very sorry. I still think we shall be sorry that Clay isn'tPresident."
"I'm sorry all the time. And when he was so good and splendid, whydidn't they put him in?"
"Well, a great many people think Mr. Polk just as splendid."
"Oh, the Democrats!" she commented disdainfully.
"More than half the votes of the country went against our Harry of theWest. One side always has to be beaten. It's hard not to belong to thewinning side. But we won four years ago, and we did a big lot ofcrowing, I remember. We shouted ourselves hoarse over the announcementthat:
'Tippecanoe and Tyler too! Were bound to rule the country through.'
We drove our enemies out of sight and erected Log Cabins on their ruins.We had a grand, good time. And then our brave and loyal Tippecanoe died,and some of us have been rather disappointed in Mr. Tyler. We will allhope for the best. There are a good many excellent men on both sides. Iguess the country will come out all right."
There really were tears in her eyes.
"You see, my little girl, we must make up our minds to occasionaldefeat, especially when we go into politics," and there was the shrewdlaughing twinkle in his eye. "It is supposed to be better for thecountry to have the parties about evenly divided. They stand more ontheir good behavior. And we will hope for better luck next time."
"But _you_ couldn't turn round and be a Democrat, could you?" she asked,with a sad entreaty.
"No, dear," he replied gravely.
"I'm glad we have Mayor Harper left. Can the new President put him out?"
"No, my dear."
They kissed each other in half-sorrowful consolation. But alas! nextyear even Mayor Harper had to go out.