An Old-Fashioned Girl (12 page)

“There, dear, that’s where I keep the little memorials of my brother Jack. Poor lad, he was lost at sea, you know. Well, choose
anything you like, and I’ll try to remember a story about it.”

Tom made a rapid rummage, and fished up a little broken pistol.

“There, that’s the chap for me! Wish it wasn’t spoilt, then we’d have fun popping away at the cats in the yard. Now, then,
grandma.”

“I remember one of Jack’s pranks, when that was used with great effect,” said grandma, after a thoughtful pause, during which
Tom teased the girls by snapping the lock of the pistol in their faces.

“Once upon a time,” continued Madam, much flattered by the row of interested faces before her, “my father went away on business,
leaving mother, aunt, and us girls to Jack’s care. Very proud he was, to be sure, of the responsibility, and the first thing
he did was to load that pistol and keep it by his bed, to our great worriment, for we feared he’d kill himself with it. For
a week all went well; then we were startled by the news that robbers were about. All sorts of stories flew through the town
(we were living in the country then); some said that certain houses were marked with a black cross, and those were always
robbed; others, that there was a boy in the gang, for windows, so small that they were considered safe, were entered by some
little rogue. At one place the thieves had a supper, and left ham and cake in the front yard. Mrs. Jones found Mrs. Smith’s
shawl in her orchard, with a hammer and an unknown teapot near it. One man reported that someone tapped at his window, in
the night, saying, softly, ‘Is anyone here?’ and when he looked out, two men were seen to run down the road.

“We lived just out of town, in a lonely place; the house was old, with convenient little back windows, and five outside doors.
Jack was the only man about the place, and he was barely thirteen. Mother and aunt were very timid, and the children weren’t
old enough to be of any use, so Jack and I were the home-guard, and vowed to defend the family manfully.”

“Good for you! Hope the fellows came!” cried Tom, charmed with this opening.

“One day, an ill-looking man came in and asked for food,” continued grandma, with a mysterious nod; “and while he ate, I saw
him glance sharply about from the wooden buttons on the back doors, to the silver urn and tankards on the dining room sideboard.
A strong suspicion took possession of me, and I watched him as a cat does a mouse.

“‘He came to examine the premises, I’m sure of it, but we will be ready for him,’ I said, fiercely, as I told the family about
him.

“This fancy haunted us all, and our preparations were very funny. Mother borrowed a rattle, and kept it under her pillow.
Aunt took a big bell to bed with her; the children had little Tip, the terrier, to sleep in their room; while Jack and I mounted
guard, he with the pistol, and I with a hatchet, for I didn’t like firearms. Biddy, who slept in the attic, practised getting
out on the shed roof, so that she might run away at the first alarm. Every night we arranged pitfalls for the robbers, and
all filed up to bed, bearing plate, money, weapons, and things to barricade with, as if we lived in war times.

“We waited a week and no one came, so we began to feel rather slighted, for other people got ‘a scare,’ as Tom says, and after
all our preparations we really felt a trifle disappointed that we had had no chance to show our courage. At last a black mark
was found upon
our
door, and a great panic ensued, for we felt that now our time
had
come.

“That night we put a tub of water at the bottom of the back stairs, and a pile of tin pans at the top of the front stairs,
so that any attempt to come up would produce a splash or a rattle. Bells were hung on door handles, sticks of wood piled up
in dark corners for robbers to fall over, and the family retired, all armed and all provided with lamps and matches.

“Jack and I left our doors open, and kept asking one another if we didn’t hear something, till he fell asleep. I was wakeful
and lay listening to the crickets till the clock struck twelve; then I got drowsy, and was just dropping off when the sound
of steps outside woke me up staring wide awake. Creeping to the window I was in time to see by the dim moonlight a shadow
glide round the corner and disappear. A queer little thrill went over me, but I resolved to keep quiet till I was sure something
was wrong, for I had given so many false alarms, I didn’t want Jack to laugh at me again. Popping my head out of the door,
I listened, and presently heard a scraping sound near the shed.

“‘There they are; but I won’t rouse the house till the bell rings or the pans fall. The rogues can’t go far without a clatter
of some sort, and if we could only catch one of them we should get the reward and a deal of glory,’ I said to myself, grasping
my hatchet firmly.

“A door closed softly below, and a step came creeping towards the back stairs. Sure now of my prey, I was just about to scream
‘Jack!’ when something went splash into the tub at the foot of the back stairs.

“In a minute everyone was awake and up, for Jack fired his pistol before he was half out of bed, and roared ‘Fire!’ so loud
it roused the house. Mother sprung her rattle, aunt rang her bell, Jip barked like mad, and we all screamed, while from below
came up a regular Irish howl.

“Someone brought a lamp, and we peeped anxiously down, to see our own stupid Biddy sitting in the tub wringing her hands and
wailing dismally.

“‘Ooh, murther, and it’s kilt I am! The saints be about us! How iver did I come forninst this say iv wather, just crapin in
quiet afther a bit iv sthroll wid Mike Mahoney, me own b’y, that’s to marry me intirely, come Saint Patrick’s day nixt.’

“We laughed so we could hardly fish the poor thing up, or listen while she explained that she had slipped out of her window
for a word with Mike, and found it fastened when she wanted to come back, so she had sat on the roof, trying to discover the
cause of this mysterious barring out, till she was tired, when she prowled round the house till she found a cellar window
unfastened, after all our care, and got in quite cleverly, she thought; but the tub was a new arrangement which she knew nothing
about; and when she fell into the ‘say,’ she was bewildered and could only howl.

“This was not all the damage either, for aunt fainted with the fright, mother cut her hand with a broken lamp, the children
took cold hopping about on the wet stairs, Jip barked himself sick, I sprained my ankle, and Jack not only smashed a looking
glass with his bullets, but spoilt his pistol by the heavy charge put in it. After the damages were repaired and the flurry
was well over, Jack confessed that he had marked the door for fun, and shut Biddy out as a punishment for ‘gallivanting,’
of which he didn’t approve. Such a rogue as mat boy was!”

“But didn’t the robbers ever come?” cried Tom, enjoying the joke, but feeling defrauded of the fight.

“Never, my dear; but we had our ‘scare,’ and tested our courage, and that was a great satisfaction, of course,” answered grandma,
placidly.

“Well, I think you were the bravest of the lot. I’d like to have seen you flourishing round there with your hatchet,” added
Tom, admiringly, and the old lady looked as much pleased with the compliment as if she had been a girl.

“I choose this,” said Polly, holding up a long white kid glove, shrunken and yellow with time, but looking as if it had a
history.

“Ah, that now has a story worth telling!” cried grandma; adding, proudly, “Treat that old glove respectfully, my children,
for Lafayette’s honored hand has touched it.”

“Oh, grandma, did you wear it? Did you see him? Do tell us all about it, and that will be the best of the whole,” cried Polly,
who loved history, and knew a good deal about the gallant Frenchman and his brave life.

Grandma loved to tell this story, and always assumed her most imposing air to do honor to her theme. Drawing herself up, therefore,
she folded her hands, and after two or three little “hems,” began with an absent look, as if her eyes beheld a faraway time,
which brightened as she gazed.

“The first visit of Lafayette was before my time, of course, but I heard so much about it from my grandfather that I really
felt as if I’d seen it all. Our Aunt Hancock lived in the Governor’s house, on Beacon Hill, at that time.” Here the old lady
bridled up still more, for she was very proud of “our aunt.” “Ah, my dears, those were the good old times!” she continued,
with a sigh. “Such dinners and tea parties, such damask table cloths and fine plate, such solid, handsome furniture and elegant
carriages; aunt’s was lined with red silk velvet, and when the coach was taken away from her at the Governor’s death, she
just ripped out the lining, and we girls had spencers made of it. Dear heart, how well I remember playing in aunt’s great
garden, and chasing Jack up and down those winding stairs; and my blessed father, in his plum-colored coat and knee buckles,
and the queue I used to tie up for him every day, handing aunt in to dinner, looking so dignified and splendid.”

Grandma seemed to forget her story for a minute, and become a little girl again, among the playmates dead and gone so many
years. Polly motioned the others to be quiet, and no one spoke till the old lady, with a long sigh, came back to the present,
and went on.

“Well, as I was saying, the Governor wanted to give a breakfast to the French officers, and Madam, who was a hospitable soul,
got up a splendid one for them. But by some mistake, or accident, it was discovered at the last minute that there was no milk.

“A great deal was needed, and very little could be bought or borrowed, so despair fell upon the cooks and maids, and the great
breakfast would have been a failure, if Madam, with the presence of mind of her sex, had not suddenly bethought herself of
the cows feeding on the Common.

“To be sure, they belonged to her neighbors, and there was no time to ask leave, but it was a national affair; our allies
must
be fed; and feeling sure that her patriotic friends would gladly lay their cows on the altar of their country, Madam Hancock
covered herself with glory, by calmly issuing the command, ‘Milk ’em!’

“It was done, to the great astonishment of the cows, and the entire satisfaction of the guests, among whom was Lafayette.

“This milking feat was such a good joke, that no one seems to have remembered much about the great man, though one of his
officers, a count, signalized himself by getting very tipsy, and going to bed with his boots and spurs on — which caused the
destruction of aunt’s best yellow damask coverlet, for the restless sleeper kicked it into rags by morning.

“Aunt valued it very much, even in its tattered condition, and kept it a long while, as a memorial of her distinguished guests.

“The time when
I
saw Lafayette was in 1825, and there were no tipsy counts then. Uncle Hancock (a sweet man, my dears, though some call him
mean nowadays) was dead, and aunt had married Captain Scott.

“It was not at all the thing for her to do; however, that’s neither here nor there. She was living in Federal Street at the
time, a most aristocratic street then, children, and we lived close by.

“Old Josiah Quincy was mayor of the city, and he sent aunt word that the Marquis Lafayette wished to pay his respects to her.

“Of course she was delighted, and we all flew about to make ready for him. Aunt was an old lady, but she made a grand toilet,
and was as anxious to look well as any girl.”

“What did she wear?” asked Fan, with interest.

“She wore a steel-colored satin, trimmed with black lace, and on her cap was pinned a Lafayette badge of white satin.

“I never shall forget how
b-e-a-utifully
she looked as she sat in state on the front parlor
sophy,
right under a great portrait of her first husband; and on either side of her sat Madam Storer and Madam Williams, elegant
to behold, in their stiff silks, rich lace, and stately turbans. We don’t see such splendid old ladies nowadays —”

“I think we do sometimes,” said Polly, slyly.

Grandma shook her head, but it pleased her very much to be admired, for she had been a beauty in her day.

“We girls had dressed the house with flowers; old Mr. Coolidge sent in a clothes-basket full. Joe Joy provided the badges,
and aunt got out some of the Revolutionary wine from the old Beacon Street cellar.

“I wore my green and white palmyrine, my hair bowed high, the beautiful leg-o’-mutton sleeves that were so becoming, and these
very gloves.

“Well, by-and-by the General, escorted by the Mayor, drove up. Dear me, I see him now! — a little old man in nankeen trousers
and vest, a long blue coat and ruffled shirt, leaning on his cane, for he was lame, and smiling and bowing like a true Frenchman.

“As he approached, the three old ladies rose, and curtsied with the utmost dignity. Lafayette bowed first to the Governor’s
picture, then to the Governor’s widow, and kissed her hand.

“That was droll; for on the back of her glove was stamped Lafayette’s likeness, and the gallant old gentleman kissed his own
face.

“Then some of the young ladies were presented; and, as if to escape any further self-salutations, the marquis kissed the pretty
girls on the cheek.

“Yes, my dears, here is just the spot where the dear old man saluted me. I’m quite as proud of it now as I was then, for he
was a brave, good man, and helped us in our trouble.

“He did not stay long, but we were very merry, drinking his health, receiving his compliments, and enjoying the honor he did
us.

“Down in the street there was a crowd, of course, and when he left they wanted to take out the horses and drag him home in
triumph. But he didn’t wish it; and while that affair was being arranged, we girls had been pelting him with the flowers which
we tore from the vases, the walls, and our own topknots, to scatter over him.

“He liked that, and laughed, and waved his hand to us, while we ran, and pelted, and begged him to come again.