Little Men: Life at Plumfield With Jo's Boys
“Perhaps I can find it for you; I went to school with her,” and Mrs. Jo
looked so wicked that every one knew who the little girl was.
Hearing of this fearful subject for a composition quite reconciled
the boys to the thought of writing about familiar things. Wednesday
afternoon was appointed for the lectures, as they preferred to call
them, for some chose to talk instead of write. Mr. Bhaer promised a
portfolio in which the written productions should be kept, and Mrs.
Bhaer said she would attend the course with great pleasure.
Then the dirty-handed society went off to wash, followed by the
Professor, trying to calm the anxiety of Rob, who had been told by Tommy
that all water was full of invisible pollywogs.
“I like your plan very much, only don't be too generous, Teddy,” said
Mrs. Bhaer, when they were left alone. “You know most of the boys have
got to paddle their own canoes when they leave us, and too much sitting
in the lap of luxury will unfit them for it.”
“I'll be moderate, but do let me amuse myself. I get desperately tired
of business sometimes, and nothing freshens me up like a good frolic
with your boys. I like that Dan very much, Jo. He isn't demonstrative;
but he has the eye of a hawk, and when you have tamed him a little he
will do you credit.”
“I'm so glad you think so. Thank you very much for your kindness to him,
especially for this museum affair; it will keep him happy while he is
lame, give me a chance to soften and smooth this poor, rough lad, and
make him love us. What did inspire you with such a beautiful, helpful
idea, Teddy?” asked Mrs. Bhaer, glancing back at the pleasant room, as
she turned to leave it.
Laurie took both her hands in his, and answered, with a look that made
her eyes fill with happy tears,
“Dear Jo! I have known what it is to be a motherless boy, and I never
can forget how much you and yours have done for me all these years.”
CHAPTER XII. HUCKLEBERRIES
There was a great clashing of tin pails, much running to and fro, and
frequent demands for something to eat, one August afternoon, for the
boys were going huckleberrying, and made as much stir about it as if
they were setting out to find the North West Passage.
“Now, my lads, get off as quietly as you can, for Rob is safely out
of the way, and won't see you,” said Mrs. Bhaer, as she tied Daisy's
broad-brimmed hat, and settled the great blue pinafore in which she had
enveloped Nan.
But the plan did not succeed, for Rob had heard the bustle, decided to
go, and prepared himself, without a thought of disappointment. The troop
was just getting under way when the little man came marching downstairs
with his best hat on, a bright tin pail in his hand, and a face beaming
with satisfaction.
“Oh, dear! now we shall have a scene,” sighed Mrs. Bhaer, who found her
eldest son very hard to manage at times.
“I'm all ready,” said Rob, and took his place in the ranks with such
perfect unconsciousness of his mistake, that it really was very hard to
undeceive him.
“It's too far for you, my love; stay and take care of me, for I shall be
all alone,” began his mother.
“You've got Teddy. I'm a big boy, so I can go; you said I might when I
was bigger, and I am now,” persisted Rob, with a cloud beginning to dim
the brightness of his happy face.
“We are going up to the great pasture, and it's ever so far; we don't
want you tagging on,” cried Jack, who did not admire the little boys.
“I won't tag, I'll run and keep up. O Mamma! let me go! I want to fill
my new pail, and I'll bring 'em all to you. Please, please, I will
be good!” prayed Robby, looking up at his mother, so grieved and
disappointed that her heart began to fail her.
“But, my deary, you'll get so tired and hot you won't have a good time.
Wait till I go, and then we will stay all day, and pick as many berries
as you want.”
“You never do go, you are so busy, and I'm tired of waiting. I'd rather
go and get the berries for you all myself. I love to pick 'em, and I
want to fill my new pail dreffly,” sobbed Rob.
The pathetic sight of great tears tinkling into the dear new pail, and
threatening to fill it with salt water instead of huckleberries, touched
all the ladies present. His mother patted the weeper on his back; Daisy
offered to stay home with him; and Nan said, in her decided way,
“Let him come; I'll take care of him.”
“If Franz was going I wouldn't mind, for he is very careful; but he is
haying with the father, and I'm not sure about the rest of you,” began
Mrs. Bhaer.
“It's so far,” put in Jack.
“I'd carry him if I was going wish I was,” said Dan, with a sigh.
“Thank you, dear, but you must take care of your foot. I wish I could
go. Stop a minute, I think I can manage it after all;” and Mrs. Bhaer
ran out to the steps, waving her apron wildly.
Silas was just driving away in the hay-cart, but turned back, and agreed
at once, when Mrs. Jo proposed that he should take the whole party to
the pasture, and go for them at five o'clock.
“It will delay your work a little, but never mind; we will pay you in
huckleberry pies,” said Mrs. Jo, knowing Silas's weak point.
His rough, brown face brightened up, and he said, with a cheery “Haw!
haw!” “Wal now, Mis' Bhaer, if you go to bribin' of me, I shall give in
right away.”
“Now, boys, I have arranged it so that you can all go,” said Mrs. Bhaer,
running back again, much relieved, for she loved to make them happy, and
always felt miserable when she had disturbed the serenity of her little
sons; for she believed that the small hopes and plans and pleasures
of children should be tenderly respected by grown-up people, and never
rudely thwarted or ridiculed.
“Can I go?” said Dan, delighted.
“I thought especially of you. Be careful, and never mind the berries,
but sit about and enjoy the lovely things which you know how to find all
about you,” answered Mrs. Bhaer, who remembered his kind offer to her
boy.
“Me too! me too!” sung Rob, dancing with joy, and clapping his precious
pail and cover like castanets.
“Yes, and Daisy and Nan must take good care of you. Be at the bars at
five o'clock, and Silas will come for you all.”
Robby cast himself upon his mother in a burst of gratitude, promising
to bring her every berry he picked, and not eat one. Then they were all
packed into the hay-cart, and went rattling away, the brightest face
among the dozen being that of Rob, as he sat between his two temporary
little mothers, beaming upon the whole world, and waving his best hat;
for his indulgent mamma had not the heart to bereave him of it, since
this was a gala-day to him.
Such a happy afternoon as they had, in spite of the mishaps which
usually occur on such expeditions! Of course Tommy came to grief,
tumbled upon a hornet's nest and got stung; but being used to woe, he
bore the smart manfully, till Dan suggested the application of damp
earth, which much assuaged the pain. Daisy saw a snake, and flying from
it lost half her berries; but Demi helped her to fill up again, and
discussed reptiles most learnedly the while. Ned fell out of a tree, and
split his jacket down the back, but suffered no other fracture. Emil and
Jack established rival claims to a certain thick patch, and while they
were squabbling about it, Stuffy quickly and quietly stripped the bushes
and fled to the protection of Dan, who was enjoying himself immensely.
The crutch was no longer necessary, and he was delighted to see how
strong his foot felt as he roamed about the great pasture, full of
interesting rocks and stumps, with familiar little creatures in the
grass, and well-known insects dancing in the air.
But of all the adventures that happened on this afternoon that which
befell Nan and Rob was the most exciting, and it long remained one of
the favorite histories of the household. Having explored the country
pretty generally, torn three rents in her frock, and scratched her face
in a barberry-bush, Nan began to pick the berries that shone like big,
black beads on the low, green bushes. Her nimble fingers flew, but
still her basket did not fill up as rapidly as she desired, so she kept
wandering here and there to search for better places, instead of picking
contentedly and steadily as Daisy did. Rob followed Nan, for her energy
suited him better than his cousin's patience, and he too was anxious to
have the biggest and best berries for Marmar.
“I keep putting 'em in, but it don't fill up, and I'm so tired,” said
Rob, pausing a moment to rest his short legs, and beginning to think
huckleberrying was not all his fancy painted it; for the sun blazed, Nan
skipped hither and thither like a grasshopper, and the berries fell out
of his pail almost as fast as he put them in, because, in his struggles
with the bushes, it was often upside-down.
“Last time we came they were ever so much thicker over that wall great
bouncers; and there is a cave there where the boys made a fire. Let's go
and fill our things quick, and then hide in the cave and let the others
find us,” proposed Nan, thirsting for adventures.
Rob consented, and away they went, scrambling over the wall and running
down the sloping fields on the other side, till they were hidden among
the rocks and underbrush. The berries were thick, and at last the pails
were actually full. It was shady and cool down there, and a little
spring gave the thirsty children a refreshing drink out of its mossy
cup.
“Now we will go and rest in the cave, and eat our lunch,” said Nan, well
satisfied with her success so far.
“Do you know the way?” asked Rob.
“'Course I do; I've been once, and I always remember. Didn't I go and
get my box all right?”
That convinced Rob, and he followed blindly as Nan led him over stock
and stone, and brought him, after much meandering, to a small recess in
the rock, where the blackened stones showed that fires had been made.
“Now, isn't it nice?” asked Nan, as she took out a bit of
bread-and-butter, rather damaged by being mixed up with nails,
fishhooks, stones and other foreign substances, in the young lady's
pocket.
“Yes; do you think they will find us soon?” asked Rob, who found the
shadowy glen rather dull, and began to long for more society.
“No, I don't; because if I hear them, I shall hide, and have fun making
them find me.”
“P'raps they won't come.”
“Don't care; I can get home myself.”
“Is it a great way?” asked Rob, looking at his little stubby boots,
scratched and wet with his long wandering.
“It's six miles, I guess.” Nan's ideas of distance were vague, and her
faith in her own powers great.
“I think we better go now,” suggested Rob, presently.
“I shan't till I have picked over my berries;” and Nan began what seemed
to Rob an endless task.
“Oh, dear! you said you'd take good care of me,” he sighed, as the sun
seemed to drop behind the hill all of a sudden.
“Well I am taking good care of you as hard as I can. Don't be cross,
child; I'll go in a minute,” said Nan, who considered five-year-old
Robby a mere infant compared to herself.
So little Rob sat looking anxiously about him, and waiting patiently,
for, spite of some misgivings, he felt great confidence in Nan.
“I guess it's going to be night pretty soon,” he observed, as if to
himself, as a mosquito bit him, and the frogs in a neighboring marsh
began to pipe up for the evening concert.
“My goodness me! so it is. Come right away this minute, or they will be
gone,” cried Nan, looking up from her work, and suddenly perceiving that
the sun was down.
“I heard a horn about an hour ago; may be they were blowing for us,”
said Rob, trudging after his guide as she scrambled up the steep hill.
“Where was it?” asked Nan, stopping short.
“Over that way;” he pointed with a dirty little finger in an entirely
wrong direction.