Little Men: Life at Plumfield With Jo's Boys
manfully toward that end. When every one was out of breath they were
allowed to rest; and, indeed, poor Mrs. Smith needed it, for her long
dress had tripped her up many times. The little maid passed round
molasses and water in such small cups that one guest actually emptied
nine. I refrain from mentioning his name, because this mild beverage
affected him so much that he put cup and all into his mouth at the ninth
round, and choked himself publicly.
“You must ask Nan to play and sing now,” said Daisy to her brother, who
sat looking very much like an owl, as he gravely regarded the festive
scene between his high collars.
“Give us a song, mum,” said the obedient guest, secretly wondering where
the piano was.
Miss Smith sailed up to an old secretary which stood in the room,
threw back the lid of the writing-desk, and sitting down before it,
accompanied herself with a vigor which made the old desk rattle as she
sang that new and lovely song, beginning—
“Gaily the troubadour
Touched his guitar,
As he was hastening
Home from the war.”
The gentlemen applauded so enthusiastically that she gave them “Bounding
Billows,” “Little Bo-Peep,” and other gems of song, till they were
obliged to hint that they had had enough. Grateful for the praises
bestowed upon her daughter, Mrs. Smith graciously announced,
“Now we will have tea. Sit down carefully, and don't grab.”
It was beautiful to see the air of pride with which the good lady did
the honors of her table, and the calmness with which she bore the little
mishaps that occurred. The best pie flew wildly on the floor when she
tried to cut it with a very dull knife; the bread and butter vanished
with a rapidity calculated to dismay a housekeeper's soul; and, worst of
all, the custards were so soft that they had to be drunk up, instead of
being eaten elegantly with the new tin spoons.
I grieve to state that Miss Smith squabbled with the maid for the best
jumble, which caused Bess to toss the whole dish into the air, and burst
out crying amid a rain of falling cakes. She was comforted by a seat at
the table, and the sugar-bowl to empty; but during this flurry a large
plate of patties was mysteriously lost, and could not be found. They
were the chief ornament of the feast, and Mrs. Smith was indignant at
the loss, for she had made them herself, and they were beautiful to
behold. I put it to any lady if it was not hard to have one dozen
delicious patties (made of flour, salt, and water, with a large raisin
in the middle of each, and much sugar over the whole) swept away at one
fell swoop?
“You hid them, Tommy; I know you did!” cried the outraged hostess,
threatening her suspected guest with the milk-pot.
“I didn't!”
“You did!”
“It isn't proper to contradict,” said Nan, who was hastily eating up the
jelly during the fray.
“Give them back, Demi,” said Tommy.
“That's a fib, you've got them in your own pocket,” bawled Demi, roused
by the false accusation.
“Let's take 'em away from him. It's too bad to make Daisy cry,”
suggested Nat, who found his first ball more exciting than he expected.
Daisy was already weeping, Bess like a devoted servant mingled her tears
with those of her mistress, and Nan denounced the entire race of boys as
“plaguey things.” Meanwhile the battle raged among the gentlemen, for,
when the two defenders of innocence fell upon the foe, that hardened
youth intrenched himself behind a table and pelted them with the stolen
tarts, which were very effective missiles, being nearly as hard as
bullets. While his ammunition held out the besieged prospered, but the
moment the last patty flew over the parapet, the villain was seized,
dragged howling from the room, and cast upon the hall floor in an
ignominious heap. The conquerors then returned flushed with victory, and
while Demi consoled poor Mrs. Smith, Nat and Nan collected the scattered
tarts, replaced each raisin in its proper bed, and rearranged the dish
so that it really looked almost as well as ever. But their glory had
departed, for the sugar was gone, and no one cared to eat them after the
insult offered to them.
“I guess we had better go,” said Demi, suddenly, as Aunt Jo's voice was
heard on the stairs.
“P'r'aps we had,” and Nat hastily dropped a stray jumble that he had
just picked up.
But Mrs. Jo was among them before the retreat was accomplished, and into
her sympathetic ear the young ladies poured the story of their woes.
“No more balls for these boys till they have atoned for this bad
behavior by doing something kind to you,” said Mrs. Jo, shaking her head
at the three culprits.
“We were only in fun,” began Demi.
“I don't like fun that makes other people unhappy. I am disappointed in
you, Demi, for I hoped you would never learn to tease Daisy. Such a kind
little sister as she is to you.”
“Boys always tease their sisters; Tom says so,” muttered Demi.
“I don't intend that my boys shall, and I must send Daisy home if you
cannot play happily together,” said Aunt Jo, soberly.
At this awful threat, Demi sidled up to his sister, and Daisy hastily
dried her tears, for to be separated was the worst misfortune that could
happen to the twins.
“Nat was bad, too, and Tommy was baddest of all,” observed Nan, fearing
that two of the sinners would not get their fair share of punishment.
“I am sorry,” said Nat, much ashamed.
“I ain't!” bawled Tommy through the keyhole, where he was listening with
all his might.
Mrs. Jo wanted very much to laugh, but kept her countenance, and said
impressively, as she pointed to the door,
“You can go, boys, but remember, you are not to speak to or play with
the little girls till I give you leave. You don't deserve the pleasure,
so I forbid it.”
The ill-mannered young gentlemen hastily retired, to be received
outside with derision and scorn by the unrepentant Bangs, who would
not associate with them for at least fifteen minutes. Daisy was soon
consoled for the failure of her ball, but lamented the edict that parted
her from her brother, and mourned over his short-comings in her tender
little heart. Nan rather enjoyed the trouble, and went about turning up
her pug nose at the three, especially Tommy, who pretended not to care,
and loudly proclaimed his satisfaction at being rid of those “stupid
girls.” But in his secret soul he soon repented of the rash act that
caused this banishment from the society he loved, and every hour of
separation taught him the value of the “stupid girls.”
The others gave in very soon, and longed to be friends, for now there
was no Daisy to pet and cook for them; no Nan to amuse and doctor them;
and, worst of all, no Mrs. Jo to make home life pleasant and life easy
for them. To their great affliction, Mrs. Jo seemed to consider herself
one of the offended girls, for she hardly spoke to the outcasts, looked
as if she did not see them when she passed, and was always too busy now
to attend to their requests. This sudden and entire exile from favor
cast a gloom over their souls, for when Mother Bhaer deserted them,
their sun had set at noon-day, as it were, and they had no refuge left.
This unnatural state of things actually lasted for three days, then
they could bear it no longer, and fearing that the eclipse might become
total, went to Mr. Bhaer for help and counsel.
It is my private opinion that he had received instructions how to behave
if the case should be laid before him. But no one suspected it, and he
gave the afflicted boys some advice, which they gratefully accepted and
carried out in the following manner:
Secluding themselves in the garret, they devoted several play-hours to
the manufacture of some mysterious machine, which took so much paste
that Asia grumbled, and the little girls wondered mightily. Nan nearly
got her inquisitive nose pinched in the door, trying to see what was
going on, and Daisy sat about, openly lamenting that they could not
all play nicely together, and not have any dreadful secrets. Wednesday
afternoon was fine, and after a good deal of consultation about wind and
weather, Nat and Tommy went off, bearing an immense flat parcel hidden
under many newspapers. Nan nearly died with suppressed curiosity, Daisy
nearly cried with vexation, and both quite trembled with interest when
Demi marched into Mrs. Bhaer's room, hat in hand, and said, in the
politest tone possible to a mortal boy of his years,
“Please, Aunt Jo, would you and the girls come out to a surprise party
we have made for you? Do it's a very nice one.”
“Thank you, we will come with pleasure; only, I must take Teddy with
me,” replied Mrs. Bhaer, with a smile that cheered Demi like sunshine
after rain.
“We'd like to have him. The little wagon is all ready for the girls; you
won't mind walking just up to Pennyroyal Hill, will you Aunty?”
“I should like it exceedingly; but are you quite sure I shall not be in
the way?”
“Oh, no, indeed! we want you very much; and the party will be spoilt if
you don't come,” cried Demi, with great earnestness.
“Thank you kindly, sir;” and Aunt Jo made him a grand curtsey, for she
liked frolics as well as any of them.
“Now, young ladies, we must not keep them waiting; on with the hats, and
let us be off at once. I'm all impatience to know what the surprise is.”
As Mrs. Bhaer spoke every one bustled about, and in five minutes the
three little girls and Teddy were packed into the “clothes-basket,” as
they called the wicker wagon which Toby drew. Demi walked at the head of
the procession, and Mrs. Jo brought up the rear, escorted by Kit. It was
a most imposing party, I assure you, for Toby had a red feather-duster
in his head, two remarkable flags waved over the carriage, Kit had a
blue bow on his neck, which nearly drove him wild, Demi wore a nosegay
of dandelions in his buttonhole, and Mrs. Jo carried the queer Japanese
umbrella in honor of the occasion.
The girls had little flutters of excitement all the way; and Teddy was
so charmed with the drive that he kept dropping his hat overboard, and
when it was taken from him he prepared to tumble out himself, evidently
feeling that it behooved him to do something for the amusement of the
party.
When they came to the hill “nothing was to be seen but the grass
blowing in the wind,” as the fairy books say, and the children looked
disappointed. But Demi said, in his most impressive manner,
“Now, you all get out and stand still, and the surprise party with come
in;” with which remark he retired behind a rock, over which heads had
been bobbing at intervals for the last half-hour.
A short pause of intense suspense, and then Nat, Demi, and Tommy marched
forth, each bearing a new kite, which they presented to the three young
ladies. Shrieks of delight arose, but were silenced by the boys, who
said, with faces brimful of merriment, “That isn't all the surprise;”
and, running behind the rock, again emerged bearing a fourth kite of
superb size, on which was printed, in bright yellow letters, “For Mother
Bhaer.”
“We thought you'd like one, too, because you were angry with us, and
took the girls' part,” cried all three, shaking with laughter, for this
part of the affair evidently was a surprise to Mrs. Jo.
She clapped her hands, and joined in the laugh, looking thoroughly
tickled at the joke.
“Now, boys, that is regularly splendid! Who did think of it?” she asked,
receiving the monster kite with as much pleasure as the little girls did
theirs.
“Uncle Fritz proposed it when we planned to make the others; he said
you'd like it, so we made a bouncer,” answered Demi, beaming with
satisfaction at the success of the plot.
“Uncle Fritz knows what I like. Yes, these are magnificent kites, and
we were wishing we had some the other day when you were flying yours,
weren't we, girls?”