A Little Girl in Old Boston, Amanda Minnie Douglas [black authors fiction .TXT] 📗

from the first day of February to the first day of November. The intervening three months it was half-past eight and continued to half-past twelve.

Doris came home quite sober. "Well," began Uncle Leverett, "how did school go?"

"I didn't like it very much," she answered slowly.

"What did you do?"

"I read first. Four little girls and two boys read. We all stood in a row."

"What then?"

"We spelled. But I did not know where the lesson was, and I think Mrs. Webb gave me easy words."

"And you did not enjoy that?" Uncle Leverett gave a short laugh.

"I was glad not to miss," she replied gravely.

"Mrs. Webb uses Dilworth's speller," said Mrs. Leverett, "and so I gave her Betty's. But she has a different reader. She thought Doris read uncommon well."

"And what came next?"

"They said tables all together. Why do they call them tables?"

"Because a system of calculation would be too long a name," he answered dryly.

Doris looked perplexed. "Then there was geography. What a large place America is!" and she sighed.

"Yes, the world is a good-sized planet, when you come to consider. And America is only one side of it."

"I don't see how it keeps going round."

"That must be viewed with the eye of faith," commented Betty.

"All that does very well. I am sorry you did not like it."

"I did like all that," returned Doris slowly. "But the sums troubled me."

"She's very backward in figures," said Mrs. Leverett. "Betty, you must take her in hand."

"I must study all the afternoon," said Doris.

"Oh, you'll soon get into the traces," said Uncle Leverett consolingly.

It was Monday and wash-day in every well-ordered family. Mrs. Leverett and Betty had the washing out early, but it was not a brisk drying day, so no ironing could be done in the afternoon. Betty changed her gown and brought out her sewing, and Doris studied her lessons with great earnestness.

"I wish I was sure I knew the spelling," she said wistfully.

"Well, let me hear you." Betty laid the book on the wide window sill and gave out the words between the stitches, and Doris spelled every one rightly but "perceive."

"Those i's and e's used to bother me," said Betty. "I made a list of them once and used to go over them until I could spell them in the dark."

"Is it harder to spell in the dark?"

"Oh, you innocent!" laughed Betty. "That means you could spell them anywhere."

Spelling had been rather a mysterious art, but Mr. Dilworth, and now Mr. Noah Webster, had been regulating it according to a system.

"Now you might go over some tables. You can add and multiply so much faster when you know them. Suppose we try them together."

That was very entertaining and, Doris began to think, not as difficult as she had imagined in the morning.

"Betty," said her mother, when there was a little lull, "what do you suppose has become of Aunt Priscilla? I do hope she did not come over the day we were at Cousin Winthrop's. But she never was here once last week."

"There were two rainy days."

"And she may be ill. I think you had better go down and see."

"Yes. Don't you want to go, Doris? The walk will be quite fun."

Doris could not resist the coaxing eyes, though she felt she ought to stay and study. But Betty promised to go over lessons with her when they came back. So in a few moments they were ready for the change. Mrs. Leverett sent a piece of cake and some fresh eggs, quite a rarity now.

The houses and shops seemed so close together, Doris thought. And they met so many people. Doris had not lived directly in Old Boston town, but quite in the outskirts. And King Street was getting to be quite full of business.

Black Polly came to the door. "Yes, missus was in but she had an awful cold, and been all stopped up so that she could hardly get the breath of life."

Aunt Priscilla had a strip of red flannel pinned around her forehead, holding in place a piece of brown paper, moistened with vinegar, her unfailing remedy for headache. Another band was around her throat, and she had a well-worn old shawl about her shoulders, while her feet rested on a box on which was placed a warm brick.

"Is it possible you have come? Why, one might be dead and buried and no one the wiser. I crawled out to church on Sunday, and took more cold, though I have heard people say you wouldn't catch cold going to church. Religion ought to keep one warm, I s'pose."

"I'm sorry. Mother was afraid you were ill."

"And I have all the visiting to do. It does seem as if once in an age some of you might come over. You went to Cousin Winthrop's!" in an aggrieved tone.

"But mother had not been there since last summer, when 'Lecty was on making her visit. And we took all the family along, just as you can," in a merry tone. "But if you like to have mother come and spend the day, I'll keep house. You see, there's always meals to get for father and Warren."

"Yes, I kept house before you were born, Betty Leverett, and had a man who needed three stout meals a day. But he want a mite of trouble. I never see a man easier to suit than Hatfield Perkins. And I didn't neglect him because he could be put off and find no fault. There are men in the world that it would take the grace of a saint to cook for, only in heaven among the saints if there aint any marryin' you can quite make up your mind there isn't any cooking either. Well--can't you get a chair? There's that little low one for Dorothy."

"If you please," began Doris, with quiet dignity, "my name is not Dorothy."

"Well, you ought to hear yourself called by a Christian name once in a while."

"Still it isn't a Scriptural name," interposed Betty. "I looked over the list to see. And here are some nice fresh eggs. Mother has had several splendid layers this fall."

"I'm obliged, I'm sure. I do wish I could keep a few hens. But Jonas Field wants so much room, and there's my garden herbs. I've just been dosing on sage tea and honey, and it has about broke up my cough. I generally do take one cold in autumn, and then I go to March before I get another. Well, I s'pose Recompense Gardiner stays at your uncle's? There was some talk I heard about some old fellow hanging round. After I'd lived so long single, I'd stay as I was."

"I can't imagine Miss Recompense getting her wedding gown ready. What would it be, I wonder?"

Betty laughed heartily.

"She could buy the best in the market if she chose," said Aunt Priscilla sharply. "She must have a good bit of money laid by. Cousin Winthrop would be lost without her. Not but what there are as good housekeepers in the world as Recompense Gardiner."

Then Aunt Priscilla had to stop and cough. Polly came in with some posset.

"I'll have one of those eggs beaten up in some mulled cider, Polly," she said.

Doris glanced curiously at the old colored woman. She was tall and still very straight, and, though kept in strict subjection all her life, had an air and bearing of dignity, as if she might have come from some royal race. Her hair was snowy white, and the little braided tails hung below her turban, which was of gay Madras, and the small shoulder shawl she wore was of red and black.

"You're too old a woman to be fussed up in such gay things," Aunt Priscilla would exclaim severely every time she brought them home, for she purchased Polly's attire. "But you've always worn them, and I really don't know as you'd look natural in suitable colors."

"I like cheerful goin' things, that make you feel as if the Lord had just let out a summer day stead'er November. An', missus, you don't like a gray fire burned half to ashes, nuther."

Truth to tell, Aunt Priscilla did hanker after a bit of gayety, though she frowned on it to preserve a just balance with conscience. And no one knew the parcels done up in an old oaken chest in the storeroom, that had been indulged in at reprehensible moments.

Just then there was a curious diversion to Doris. A beautiful sleek tiger cat entered the room, and, walking up to the fire, turned and looked at the child, waving his long tail majestically back and forth. He came nearer with his sleepy, translucent eyes studying her.

"May I--touch him?" she asked hesitatingly.

"Land, yes! That's Polly's Solomon. She talks to him till she's made him most a witch, and she thinks he knows everything."

Solomon settled the question by putting two snowy white paws on Doris' knee, and stretching up indefinitely with a dainty sniffing movement of the whiskers, as if he wanted to understand whether advances would be favorably received.

There was a cat at the Leveretts', but it haunted the cellar, the shed, and the stable, and was hustled out of the kitchen with no ceremony. Aunt Elizabeth was not fond of cats, and cat hairs were her abomination. Doris had uttered an ejaculation of delight when she saw it one morning, a big black fellow with white feet and a white choker.

"Don't touch him--he'll scratch you like as not!" exclaimed Mrs. Leverett in a quick tone. "Get out, Tom! We don't allow him in the house. He's a good mouser, but it spoils cats to nurse them. And I never could abide a cat around under my feet."

Doris had made one other attempt to win Tom's favor as she was walking about the garden. But Tom eyed her askance and discreetly declined her overture. There had always been cats at Miss Arabella's, and two great dogs as well as her pony, and birds so tame they would fly down for crumbs.

"Oh, kitty!" She touched him with her dainty fingers. "Solomon. What a funny name! Oh, you beautiful great big cat!"

Solomon rubbed his head on her arm and began to purr. He was sure of a welcome.

"You can't get in her lap, for it isn't big enough," said Aunt Priscilla. "Polly's got him spoiled out of all reason, though I s'pose a cat's company when there's no one else."

"If you would let me--sit on the rug," ventured Doris timidly. She had been rather precise of late in her new home.

"Well, I declare! Sit on the floor if you want to. The floor was plenty good enough to sit on when I was a child. Me and my sisters had a corner of our own, and we'd sit there and sew."

Betty had been about to interpose, but at Aunt Priscilla's concession Doris had slidden down and taken Solomon in her arms, and rubbed her soft cheek against his head. Polly came in with the egg and cider.

"Why, little missy, you just done charm him! He's mighty afeared of the boys around, and there aint no little gals. Do just see him, Mis' Perkins. He acts as if he was rollin'