Little Men: Life at Plumfield With Jo's Boys
“I think you will. Ask the dear God to help you, and try to spare us
both another scene like this.”
Tommy saw no more, for he crept back to the hall, looking so excited and
sober that the boys crowded round him to ask what was being done to Nat.
In a most impressive whisper Tommy told them, and they looked as if the
sky was about to fall, for this reversing the order of things almost
took their breath away.
“He made me do the same thing once,” said Emil, as if confessing a crime
of the deepest dye.
“And you hit him? dear old Father Bhaer? By thunder, I'd just like
to see you do it now!” said Ned, collaring Emil in a fit of righteous
wrath.
“It was ever so long ago. I'd rather have my head cut off than do it
now,” and Emil mildly laid Ned on his back instead of cuffing him, as he
would have felt it his duty to do on any less solemn occasion.
“How could you?” said Demi, appalled at the idea.
“I was hopping mad at the time, and thought I shouldn't mind a
bit, rather like it perhaps. But when I'd hit uncle one good crack,
everything he had ever done for me came into my head all at once
somehow, and I couldn't go on. No sir! If he'd laid me down and walked
on me, I wouldn't have minded, I felt so mean,” and Emil gave himself a
good thump in the chest to express his sense of remorse for the past.
“Nat's crying like anything, and feels no end sorry, so don't let's say
a word about it; will we?” said tender-hearted Tommy.
“Of course we won't, but it's awful to tell lies,” and Demi looked as if
he found the awfulness much increased when the punishment fell not upon
the sinner, but his best Uncle Fritz.
“Suppose we all clear out, so Nat can cut upstairs if he wants to,”
proposed Franz, and led the way to the barn, their refuge in troublous
times.
Nat did not come to dinner, but Mrs. Jo took some up to him, and said a
tender word, which did him good, though he could not look at her. By and
by the lads playing outside heard the violin, and said among themselves:
“He's all right now.” He was all right, but felt shy about going down,
till opening his door to slip away into the woods, he found Daisy
sitting on the stairs with neither work nor doll, only her little
handkerchief in her hand, as if she had been mourning for her captive
friend.
“I'm going to walk; want to come?” asked Nat, trying to look as if
nothing was the matter, yet feeling very grateful for her silent
sympathy, because he fancied everyone must look upon him as a wretch.
“Oh yes!” and Daisy ran for her hat, proud to be chosen as a companion
by one of the big boys.
The others saw them go, but no one followed, for boys have a great deal
more delicacy than they get credit for, and the lads instinctively felt
that, when in disgrace, gentle little Daisy was their most congenial
friend.
The walk did Nat good, and he came home quieter than usual, but looking
cheerful again, and hung all over with daisy-chains made by his little
playmate while he lay on the grass and told her stories.
No one said a word about the scene of the morning, but its effect was
all the more lasting for that reason, perhaps. Nat tried his very best,
and found much help, not only from the earnest little prayers he prayed
to his Friend in heaven, but also in the patient care of the earthly
friend whose kind hand he never touched without remembering that it had
willingly borne pain for his sake.
CHAPTER V. PATTYPANS
“What's the matter, Daisy?”
“The boys won't let me play with them.”
“Why not?”
“They say girls can't play football.”
“They can, for I've done it!” and Mrs. Bhaer laughed at the remembrance
of certain youthful frolics.
“I know I can play; Demi and I used to, and have nice times, but he
won't let me now because the other boys laugh at him,” and Daisy looked
deeply grieved at her brother's hardness of heart.
“On the whole, I think he is right, deary. It's all very well when you
two are alone, but it is too rough a game for you with a dozen boys; so
I'd find some nice little play for myself.”
“I'm tired of playing alone!” and Daisy's tone was very mournful.
“I'll play with you by and by, but just now I must fly about and get
things ready for a trip into town. You shall go with me and see mamma,
and if you like you can stay with her.”
“I should like to go and see her and Baby Josy, but I'd rather come
back, please. Demi would miss me, and I love to be here, Aunty.”
“You can't get on without your Demi, can you?” and Aunt Jo looked as if
she quite understood the love of the little girl for her only brother.
“'Course I can't; we're twins, and so we love each other more than other
people,” answered Daisy, with a brightening face, for she considered
being a twin one of the highest honors she could ever receive.
“Now, what will you do with your little self while I fly around?” asked
Mrs. Bhaer, who was whisking piles of linen into a wardrobe with great
rapidity.
“I don't know, I'm tired of dolls and things; I wish you'd make up a new
play for me, Aunty Jo,” said Daisy, swinging listlessly on the door.
“I shall have to think of a brand new one, and it will take me some
time; so suppose you go down and see what Asia has got for your lunch,”
suggested Mrs. Bhaer, thinking that would be a good way in which to
dispose of the little hindrance for a time.
“Yes, I think I'd like that, if she isn't cross,” and Daisy slowly
departed to the kitchen, where Asia, the black cook, reigned
undisturbed.
In five minutes, Daisy was back again, with a wide-awake face, a bit of
dough in her hand and a dab of flour on her little nose.
“Oh aunty! Please could I go and make gingersnaps and things? Asia isn't
cross, and she says I may, and it would be such fun, please do,” cried
Daisy, all in one breath.
“Just the thing, go and welcome, make what you like, and stay as long as
you please,” answered Mrs. Bhaer, much relieved, for sometimes the one
little girl was harder to amuse than the dozen boys.
Daisy ran off, and while she worked, Aunt Jo racked her brain for a
new play. All of a sudden she seemed to have an idea, for she smiled
to herself, slammed the doors of the wardrobe, and walked briskly away,
saying, “I'll do it, if it's a possible thing!”
What it was no one found out that day, but Aunt Jo's eyes twinkled so
when she told Daisy she had thought of a new play, and was going to buy
it, that Daisy was much excited and asked questions all the way into
town, without getting answers that told her anything. She was left at
home to play with the new baby, and delight her mother's eyes, while
Aunt Jo went off shopping. When she came back with all sorts of queer
parcels in corners of the carry-all, Daisy was so full of curiosity that
she wanted to go back to Plumfield at once. But her aunt would not be
hurried, and made a long call in mamma's room, sitting on the floor with
baby in her lap, making Mrs. Brooke laugh at the pranks of the boys, and
all sorts of droll nonsense.
How her aunt told the secret Daisy could not imagine, but her mother
evidently knew it, for she said, as she tied on the little bonnet and
kissed the rosy little face inside, “Be a good child, my Daisy, and
learn the nice new play aunty has got for you. It's a most useful and
interesting one, and it is very kind of her to play it with you, because
she does not like it very well herself.”
This last speech made the two ladies laugh heartily, and increased
Daisy's bewilderment. As they drove away something rattled in the back
of the carriage.
“What's that?” asked Daisy, pricking up her ears.
“The new play,” answered Mrs. Jo, solemnly.
“What is it made of?” cried Daisy.
“Iron, tin, wood, brass, sugar, salt, coal, and a hundred other things.”
“How strange! What color is it?”
“All sorts of colors.”
“Is it large?”
“Part of it is, and a part isn't.”
“Did I ever see one?”
“Ever so many, but never one so nice as this.”
“Oh! what can it be? I can't wait. When shall I see it?” and Daisy
bounced up and down with impatience.
“To-morrow morning, after lessons.”
“Is it for the boys, too?”
“No, all for you and Bess. The boys will like to see it, and want to
play one part of it. But you can do as you like about letting them.”
“I'll let Demi, if he wants to.”
“No fear that they won't all want to, especially Stuffy,” and Mrs.
Bhaer's eyes twinkled more than ever as she patted a queer knobby bundle
in her lap.
“Let me feel just once,” prayed Daisy.
“Not a feel; you'd guess in a minute and spoil the fun.”
Daisy groaned and then smiled all over her face, for through a little
hole in the paper she caught a glimpse of something bright.
“How can I wait so long? Couldn't I see it today?”
“Oh dear, no! It has got to be arranged, and ever so many parts fixed in
their places. I promised Uncle Teddy that you shouldn't see it till it
was all in apple-pie order.”
“If uncle knows about it then it must be splendid!” cried Daisy,
clapping her hands; for this kind, rich, jolly uncle of hers was as
good as a fairy godmother to the children, and was always planning merry
surprises, pretty gifts, and droll amusements for them.
“Yes; Teddy went and bought it with me, and we had such fun in the shop
choosing the different parts. He would have everything fine and large,
and my little plan got regularly splendid when he took hold. You must
give him your very best kiss when he comes, for he is the kindest uncle
that ever went and bought a charming little coo Bless me! I nearly told
you what it was!” and Mrs. Bhaer cut that most interesting word short
off in the middle, and began to look over her bills, as if afraid she
would let the cat out of the bag if she talked any more. Daisy folded
her hands with an air of resignation, and sat quite still trying to
think what play had a “coo” in it.
When they got home she eyed every bundle that was taken out, and one
large heavy one, which Franz took straight upstairs and hid in the
nursery, filled her with amazement and curiosity. Something very
mysterious went on up there that afternoon, for Franz was hammering,
and Asia trotting up and down, and Aunt Jo flying around like a
will-o'-the-wisp, with all sort of things under her apron, while little
Ted, who was the only child admitted, because he couldn't talk plain,
babbled and laughed, and tried to tell what the “sumpin pitty” was.
All this made Daisy half-wild, and her excitement spread among the boys,
who quite overwhelmed Mother Bhaer with offers of assistance, which she
declined by quoting their own words to Daisy:
“Girls can't play with boys. This is for Daisy, and Bess, and me, so
we don't want you.” Whereupon the young gentlemen meekly retired, and
invited Daisy to a game of marbles, horse, football, anything she liked,
with a sudden warmth and politeness which astonished her innocent little
soul.
Thanks to these attentions, she got through the afternoon, went early
to bed, and next morning did her lessons with an energy which made Uncle
Fritz wish that a new game could be invented every day. Quite a thrill
pervaded the school-room when Daisy was dismissed at eleven o'clock,
for everyone knew that now she was going to have the new and mysterious
play.
Many eyes followed her as she ran away, and Demi's mind was so
distracted by this event that when Franz asked him where the desert
of Sahara was, he mournfully replied, “In the nursery,” and the whole
school laughed at him.
“Aunt Jo, I've done all my lessons, and I can't wait one single minute
more!” cried Daisy, flying into Mrs. Bhaer's room.
“It's all ready, come on;” and tucking Ted under one arm, and her
workbasket under the other, Aunt Jo promptly led the way upstairs.
“I don't see anything,” said Daisy, staring about her as she got inside
the nursery door.