Before the housewives could rest, several people called,and there was a scramble to get ready to see them. Then tea must be got, errands done,and one or two necessary bits of sewing neglected until the last minute. As twilight fell,dewy and still, one by one they gathered on the porch where the June roses were budding beautifully,and each groaned or sighed as she sat down, as if tired or troubled.
“What a dreadful day this has been!” began Jo, usually the first to speak.
“It has seemed shorter than usual, but so uncomfortable,” said Meg.
“Not a bit like home,” added Amy.
“It can’t seem so without Marmee and little Pip,” sighed Beth,glancing with full eyes at the empty cage above her head.
“Here’s Mother, dear, and you shall have another bird tomorrow, if you want it.”
As she spoke, Mrs. March came and took her place among them,looking as if her holiday had not been much pleasanter than theirs.
“Are you satisfied with your experiment, girls, or do you want another week of it?” she asked, as Beth nestled up to her and the rest turned toward her with brightening faces, as flowers turn toward the sun.
“I don’t!” cried Jo decidedly.
“Nor I,” echoed the others.
“You think then, that it is better to have a few duties and live a little for others, do you?”
“Lounging and larking doesn’t pay,” observed Jo, shaking her head.“I’m tired of it and mean to go to work at something right off.”
“Suppose you learn plain cooking. That’s a useful accomplishment, which no woman should be without,” said Mrs. March, laughing inaudibly at the recollection of Jo’s dinner party,for she had met Miss Crocker and heard her account of it.
“Mother, did you go away and let everything be, just to see how we’d get on?” cried Meg, who had had suspicions all day.
“Yes, I wanted you to see how the comfort of all depends on each doing her share faithfully.While Hannah and I did your work, you got on pretty well,though I don’t think you were very happy or amiable. So I thought, as a little lesson,I would show you what happens when everyone thinks only of herself.Don’t you feel that it is pleasanter to help one another,to have daily duties which make leisure sweet when it comes, and to bear and forbear,that home may be comfortable and lovely to us all?”
“We do, Mother, we do!” cried the girls.
“Then let me advise you to take up your little burdens again, for though they seem heavy sometimes,they are good for us, and lighten as we learn to carry them. Work is wholesome,and there is plenty for everyone. It keeps us from ennui and mischief,is good for health and spirits, and gives us a sense of power and independence better than money or fashion. ”
“We’ll work like bees, and love it too, see if we don’t,” said Jo.“I’ll learn plain cooking for my holiday task, and the next dinner party I have shall be a success. ”
“I’ll make the set of shirts for father, instead of letting you do it, Marmee. I can and I will,though I’m not fond of sewing. That will be better than fussing over my own things,which are plenty nice enough as they are.” said Meg.
“I’ll do my lessons every day, and not spend so much time with my music and dolls.I am a stupid thing, and ought to be studying, not playing,” was Beth’s resolution,while Amy followed their example by heroically declaring, “I shall learn to make buttonholes, and attend to my parts of speech.”
“Very good!Then I am quite satisfied with the experiment, and fancy that we shall not have to repeat it,only don’t go to the other extreme and delve like slaves. Have regular hours for work and play,make each day both useful and pleasant,and prove that you understand the worth of time by employing it well.Then youth will be delightful, old age will bring few regrets, and life become a beautiful success, in spite of poverty.”
“We’ll remember, Mother!” and they did.
CHAPTER TWELVE CAMP LAURENCE
Beth was postmistress, for, being most at home, she could attend to it regularly,and dearly liked the daily task of unlocking the little door and distributing the mail.One July day she came in with her hands full,and went about the house leaving letters and parcels like the penny post.
“Here’s your posy, Mother!Laurie never forgets that,” she said, putting the fresh nosegay in the vase that stood in ‘Marmee’s corner’,and was kept supplied by the affectionate boy.
“Miss Meg March, one letter and a glove,” continued Beth, delivering the articles to her sister,who sat near her mother, stitching wristbands.
“Why, I left a pair over there, and here is only one,” said Meg, looking at the gray cotton glove.“Didn’t you drop the other in the garden?”
“No, I’m sure I didn’t, for there was only one in the office.”
“I hate to have odd gloves!Never mind, the other may be found. My letter is only a translation of the German song I wanted.I think Mr. Brooke did it, for this isn’t Laurie’s writing.”
Mrs. March glanced at Meg, who was looking very pretty in her gingham morning gown,with the little curls blowing about her forehead, and very womanly,as she sat sewing at her little worktable, full of tidy white rolls,so unconscious of the thought in her mother’s mind as she sewed and sang,while her fingers flew and her thoughts were busied with girlish fancies as innocent and fresh as the pansies in her belt,that Mrs. March smiled and was satisfied.
“Two letters for Doctor Jo, a book, and a funny old hat,which covered the whole post office and stuck outside,” said Beth,laughing as she went into the study where Jo sat writing.
“What a sly fellow Laurie is!I said I wished bigger hats were the fashion, because I burn my face every hot day. He said, ‘Why mind the fashion?Wear a big hat, and be comfortable!’ I said I would if I had one, and he has sent me this, to try me. I’ll wear it for fun,and show him I don’t care for the fashion.” And hanging the antique broad-brim on a bust of Plato, Jo read her letters.
One from her mother made her cheeks glow and her eyes fill, for it said to her...
My Dear:
I write a little word to tell you with how much satisfaction I watch your efforts to control your temper.You say nothing about your trials, failures, or successes, and think, perhaps,that no one sees them but the Friend whose help you daily ask,if I may trust the well-worn cover of your guidebook. I, too, have seen them all,and heartily believe in the sincerity of your resolution, since it begins to bear fruit. Go on,dear, patiently and bravely, and always believe that no one sympathizes more tenderly with you than your loving...
Mother
“That does me good!That’s worth millions of money and pecks of praise. Oh, Marmee, I do try!I will keep on trying, and not get tired, since I have you to help me.”
Laying her head on her arms, Jo wet her little romance with a few happy tears,for she had thought that no one saw and appreciated her efforts to be good,and this assurance was doubly precious, doubly encouraging,because unexpected and from the person whose commendation she most valued.Feeling stronger than ever to meet and subdue her Apollyon, she pinned the note inside her frock,as a shield and a reminder, lest she be taken unaware, and proceeded to open her other letter,quite ready for either good or bad news. In a big, dashing hand, Laurie wrote...
Dear Jo, What ho!
Some English girls and boys are coming to see me tomorrow and I want to have a jolly time.If it’s fine, I’m going to pitch my tent in Longmeadow,and row up the whole crew to lunch and croquet—have a fire, make messes, gypsy fashion,and all sorts of larks. They are nice people, and like such things.Brooke will go to keep us boys steady, and Kate Vaughn will play propriety for the girls.I want you all to come, can’t let Beth off at any price, and nobody shall worry her.Don’t bother about rations, I’ll see to that and everything else, only do come, there’s a good fellow!
In a tearing hurry, Yours ever, Laurie.
“Here’s richness!” cried Jo, flying in to tell the news to Meg.
“Of course we can go, Mother?It will be such a help to Laurie, for I can row, and Meg see to the lunch,and the children be useful in some way.”
“I hope the Vaughns are not fine grown-up people. Do you know anything about them, Jo?” asked Meg.
“Only that there are four of them. Kate is older than you, Fred and Frank (twins) about my age,and a little girl (Grace), who is nine or ten. Laurie knew them abroad, and liked the boys.I fancied, from the way he primmed up his mouth in speaking of her, that he didn’t admire Kate much.”
“I’m so glad my French print is clean, it’s just the thing and so becoming!” observed Meg complacently. “Have you anything decent, Jo?”
“Scarlet and gray boating suit, good enough for me. I shall row and tramp about,so I don’t want any starch to think of. You’ll come, Betty?”
“If you won’t let any boys talk to me.”
“Not a boy!”
“I like to please Laurie, and I’m not afraid of Mr. Brooke, he is so kind. But I don’t want to play,or sing, or say anything. I’ll work hard and not trouble anyone, and you’ll take care of me, Jo, so I’ll go.”
“That’s my good girl. You do try to fight off your shyness, and I love you for it.Fighting faults isn’t easy, as I know, and a cheery word kind of gives a lift. Thank you, Mother,” And Jo gave the thin cheek a grateful kiss, more precious to Mrs.March than if it had given back the rosy roundness of her youth.
“I had a box of chocolate drops, and the picture I wanted to copy,” said Amy, showing her mail.
“And I got a note from Mr. Laurence, asking me to come over and play to him tonight,before the lamps are lighted, and I shall go,” added Beth,whose friendship with the old gentleman prospered finely.
“Now let’s fly round, and do double duty today, so that we can play tomorrow with free minds,” said Jo, preparing to replace her pen with a broom.
When the sun peeped into the girls’ room early next morning to promise them a fine day,he saw a comical sight. Each had made such preparation for the fete as seemed necessary and proper.Meg had an extra row of little curlpapers across her forehead,Jo had copiously anointed her afflicted face with cold cream,Beth had taken Joanna to bed with her to atone for the approaching separation,and Amy had capped the climax by putting a clothespin on her nose to uplift the offending feature.It was one of the kind artists use to hold the paper on their drawing boards,therefore quite appropriate and effective for the purpose it was now being put.This funny spectacle appeared to amuse the sun,for he burst out with such radiance that Jo woke up and roused her sisters by a hearty laugh at Amy’s ornament.
Sunshine and laughter were good omens for a pleasure party,and soon a lively bustle began in both houses. Beth, who was ready first,kept reporting what went on next door, and enlivened her sisters’ toilets by frequent telegrams from the window.
“There goes the man with the tent!I see Mrs. Barker doing up the lunch in a hamper and a great basket. Now Mr.Laurence is looking up at the sky and the weathercock. I wish he would go too. There’s Laurie, looking like a sailor, nice boy!Oh, mercy me!Here’s a carriage full of people, a tall lady, a little girl, and two dreadful boys. One is lame,poor thing, he’s got a crutch. Laurie didn’t tell us that. Be quick, girls!It’s getting late. Why, there is Ned Moffat, I do declare. Meg,isn’t that the man who bowed to you one day when we were shopping?”
“So it is. How queer that he should come. I thought he was at the mountains. There is Sallie.I’m glad she got back in time. Am I all right, Jo?” cried Meg in a flutter.
“A regular daisy. Hold up your dress and put your hat on straight,it looks sentimental tipped that way and will fly off at the first puff. Now then, come on!”
“Oh, Jo, you are not going to wear that awful hat?It’s too absurd!You shall not make a guy of yourself,” remonstrated Meg,as Jo tied down with a red ribbon the broad-brimmed,old-fashioned leghorn Laurie had sent for a joke.
“I just will, though, for it’s capital, so shady, light, and big. It will make fun,and I don’t mind being a guy if I’m comfortable.” With that Jo marched straight away and the rest followed, a bright little band of sisters,all looking their best in summer suits, with happy faces under the jaunty hatbrims.
Laurie ran to meet and present them to his friends in the most cordial manner.The lawn was the reception room, and for several minutes a lively scene was enacted there.Meg was grateful to see that Miss Kate, though twenty,was dressed with a simplicity which American girls would do well to imitate,and who was much flattered by Mr. Ned’s assurances that he came especially to see her.Jo understood why Laurie ‘primmed up his mouth’ when speaking of Kate,for that young lady had a standoff-don’t-touch-me air,which contrasted strongly with the free and easy demeanor of the other girls.Beth took an observation of the new boys and decided that the lame one was not ‘dreadful’,but gentle and feeble, and she would be kind to him on that account.Amy found Grace a well-mannered, merry, little person,and after staring dumbly at one another for a few minutes, they suddenly became very good friends.
Tents, lunch, and croquet utensils having been sent on beforehand, the party was soon embarked,and the two boats pushed off together, leaving Mr. Laurence waving his hat on the shore.Laurie and Jo rowed one boat, Mr. Brooke and Ned the other, while Fred Vaughn, the riotous twin,did his best to upset both by paddling about in a wherry like a disturbed water bug.Jo’s funny hat deserved a vote of thanks, for it was of general utility.It broke the ice in the beginning by producing a laugh, it created quite a refreshing breeze,flapping to and fro as she rowed, and would make an excellent umbrella for the whole party,if a shower came up, she said. Miss Kate decided that she was ‘odd’, but rather clever, and smiled upon her from afar.
Meg, in the other boat, was delightfully situated, face to face with the rowers,who both admired the prospect and feathered their oars with uncommon ‘skill and dexterity’. Mr.Brooke was a grave, silent young man, with handsome brown eyes and a pleasant voice.Meg liked his quiet manners and considered him a walking encyclopedia of useful knowledge.He never talked to her much, but he looked at her a good deal,and she felt sure that he did not regard her with aversion. Ned, being in college,of course put on all the airs which freshmen think it their bounden duty to assume.He was not very wise, but very good-natured,and altogether an excellent person to carry on a picnic.Sallie Gardiner was absorbed in keeping her white pique dress clean and chattering with the ubiquitous Fred,who kept Beth in constant terror by his pranks.
It was not far to Longmeadow, but the tent was pitched and the wickets down by the time they arrived.A pleasant green field, with three wide-spreading oaks in the middle and a smooth strip of turf for croquet.
“Welcome to Camp Laurence!” said the young host, as they landed with exclamations of delight.
“Brooke is commander in chief, I am commissary general, the other fellows are staff officers,and you, ladies, are company. The tent is for your especial benefit and that oak is your drawing room,this is the messroom and the third is the camp kitchen. Now, let’s have a game before it gets hot, and then we’ll see about dinner.”
Frank, Beth, Amy, and Grace sat down to watch the game played by the other eight. Mr.Brooke chose Meg, Kate, and Fred. Laurie took Sallie, Jo, and Ned. The English played well,but the Americans played better, and contested every inch of the ground as strongly as if the spirit of’76 inspired them.Jo and Fred had several skirmishes and once narrowly escaped high words.Jo was through the last wicket and had missed the stroke, which failure ruffled her a good deal.Fred was close behind her and his turn came before hers. He gave a stroke, his ball hit the wicket,and stopped an inch on the wrong side. No one was very near, and running up to examine,he gave it a sly nudge with his toe, which put it just an inch on the right side.
“I’m through!Now, Miss Jo, I’ll settle you, and get in first,” cried the young gentleman, swinging his mallet for another blow.
“You pushed it. I saw you. It’s my turn now,” said Jo sharply.
“Upon my word, I didn’t move it. It rolled a bit, perhaps, but that is allowed. So,stand off please, and let me have a go at the stake.”
“We don’t cheat in America, but you can, if you choose,” said Jo angrily.
“Yankees are a deal the most tricky, everybody knows. There you go!” returned Fred, croqueting her ball far away.
Jo opened her lips to say something rude, but checked herself in time,colored up to her forehead and stood a minute, hammering down a wicket with all her might,while Fred hit the stake and declared himself out with much exultation.She went off to get her ball, and was a long time finding it among the bushes, but she came back,looking cool and quiet, and waited her turn patiently.It took several strokes to regain the place she had lost, and when she got there,the other side had nearly won, for Kate’s ball was the last but one and lay near the stake.
“By George, it’s all up with us!Goodbye, Kate. Miss Jo owes me one, so you are finished,” cried Fred excitedly,as they all drew near to see the finish.
“Yankees have a trick of being generous to their enemies,” said Jo,with a look that made the lad redden, “especially when they beat them,” she added, as,leaving Kate’s ball untouched, she won the game by a clever stroke.
Laurie threw up his hat, then remembered that it wouldn’t do to exult over the defeat of his guests,and stopped in the middle of the cheer to whisper to his friend, “Good for you, Jo!He did cheat, I saw him. We can’t tell him so, but he won’t do it again, take my word for it.”
Meg drew her aside, under pretense of pinning up a loose braid, and said approvingly,“It was dreadfully provoking, but you kept your temper, and I’m so glad, Jo.”
“Don’t praise me, Meg, for I could box his ears this minute.I should certainly have boiled over if I hadn’t stayed among the nettles till I got my rage under control enough to hold my tongue.It’s simmering now, so I hope he’ll keep out of my way,” returned Jo,biting her lips as she glowered at Fred from under her big hat.
“Time for lunch,” said Mr. Brooke, looking at his watch. “Commissary general,will you make the fire and get water, while Miss March, Miss Sallie, and I spread the table?Who can make good coffee?”
“Jo can,” said Meg, glad to recommend her sister. So Jo,feeling that her late lessons in cookery were to do her honor, went to preside over the coffeepot,while the children collected dry sticks,and the boys made a fire and got water from a spring near by.Miss Kate sketched and Frank talked to Beth,who was making little mats of braided rushes to serve as plates.
The commander in chief and his aides soon spread the tablecloth with an inviting array of eatables and drinkables,prettily decorated with green leaves. Jo announced that the coffee was ready,and everyone settled themselves to a hearty meal, for youth is seldom dyspeptic,and exercise develops wholesome appetites. A very merry lunch it was,for everything seemed fresh and funny, and frequent peals of laughter startled a venerable horse who fed near by.There was a pleasing inequality in the table, which produced many mishaps to cups and plates,acorns dropped in the milk, little black ants partook of the refreshments without being invited,and fuzzy caterpillars swung down from the tree to see what was going on.Three white-headed children peeped over the fence,and an objectionable dog barked at them from the other side of the river with all his might and main.
“There’s salt here,” said Laurie, as he handed Jo a saucer of berries.
“Thank you, I prefer spiders,” she replied,fishing up two unwary little ones who had gone to a creamy death.“How dare you remind me of that horrid dinner party, when yours is so nice in every way?” added Jo, as they both laughed and ate out of one plate, the china having run short.
“I had an uncommonly good time that day, and haven’t got over it yet. This is no credit to me,you know, I don’t do anything. It’s you and Meg and Brooke who make it all go,and I’m no end obliged to you. What shall we do when we can’t eat anymore?” asked Laurie, feeling that his trump card had been played when lunch was over.
“Have games till it’s cooler. I brought Authors,and I dare say Miss Kate knows something new and nice. Go and ask her. She’s company, and you ought to stay with her more.”
“Aren’t you company too?I thought she’d suit Brooke, but he keeps talking to Meg,and Kate just stares at them through that ridiculous glass of hers. I’m going,so you needn’t try to preach propriety, for you can’t do it, Jo.”
Miss Kate did know several new games, and as the girls would not, and the boys could not,eat any more, they all adjourned to the drawing room to play Rig-marole.
“One person begins a story, any nonsense you like, and tells as long as he pleases,only taking care to stop short at some exciting point, when the next takes it up and does the same.It’s very funny when well done, and makes a perfect jumble of tragical comical stuff to laugh over.Please start it, Mr. Brooke,” said Kate, with a commanding air, which surprised Meg,who treated the tutor with as much respect as any other gentleman.
Lying on the grass at the feet of the two young ladies, Mr. Brooke obediently began the story,with the handsome brown eyes steadily fixed upon the sunshiny river.
“Once on a time, a knight went out into the world to seek his fortune,for he had nothing but his sword and his shield. He traveled a long while,nearly eight-and-twenty years, and had a hard time of it,till he came to the palace of a good old king,who had offered a reward to anyone who could tame and train a fine but unbroken colt,of which he was very fond. The knight agreed to try, and got on slowly but surely,for the colt was a gallant fellow, and soon learned to love his new master,though he was freakish and wild. Every day, when he gave his lessons to this pet of the king’s,the knight rode him through the city, and as he rode,he looked everywhere for a certain beautiful face, which he had seen many times in his dreams,but never found. One day, as he went prancing down a quiet street,he saw at the window of a ruinous castle the lovely face. He was delighted,inquired who lived in this old castle, and was told that several captive princesses were kept there by a spell,and spun all day to lay up money to buy their liberty.The knight wished intensely that he could free them, but he was poor and could only go by each day,watching for the sweet face and longing to see it out in the sunshine.At last he resolved to get into the castle and ask how he could help them. He went and knocked.The great door flew open, and he beheld...”
“A ravishingly lovely lady, who exclaimed, with a cry of rapture, ‘At last!At last!’” continued Kate, who had read French novels, and admired the style. “’Tis she!’ cried Count Gustave, and fell at her feet in an ecstasy of joy. ‘Oh, rise!’ she said, extending a hand of marble fairness. ‘Never!Till you tell me how I may rescue you,’ swore the knight, still kneeling. ‘Alas,my cruel fate condemns me to remain here till my tyrant is destroyed.’ ‘Where is the villain?’ ‘In the mauve salon. Go, brave heart, and save me from despair.’ ‘I obey, and return victorious or dead!’ With these thrilling words he rushed away, and flinging open the door of the mauve salon,was about to enter, when he received...”
“A stunning blow from the big Greek lexicon, which an old fellow in a black gown fired at him,” said Ned. “Instantly, Sir What’s-his-name recovered himself, pitched the tyrant out of the window,and turned to join the lady, victorious, but with a bump on his brow, found the door locked,tore up the curtains, made a rope ladder, got halfway down when the ladder broke,and he went headfirst into the moat, sixty feet below. Could swim like a duck,paddled round the castle till he came to a little door guarded by two stout fellows,knocked their heads together till they cracked like a couple of nuts, then,by a trifling exertion of his prodigious strength, he smashed in the door,went up a pair of stone steps covered with dust a foot thick, toads as big as your fist,and spiders that would frighten you into hysterics, Miss March.At the top of these steps he came plump upon a sight that took his breath away and chilled his blood... ”
“A tall figure, all in white with a veil over its face and a lamp in its wasted hand,” went on Meg.“It beckoned, gliding noiselessly before him down a corridor as dark and cold as any tomb.Shadowy effigies in armor stood on either side, a dead silence reigned, the lamp burned blue,and the ghostly figure ever and anon turned its face toward him,showing the glitter of awful eyes through its white veil. They reached a curtained door,behind which sounded lovely music. He sprang forward to enter, but the specter plucked him back,and waved threateningly before him a...”
“Snuffbox,” said Jo, in a sepulchral tone, which convulsed the audience. “‘Thankee,’ said the knight politely, as he took a pinch and sneezed seven times so violently that his head fell off. ‘Ha!Ha!’ laughed the ghost, and having peeped through the keyhole at the princesses spinning away for dear life,the evil spirit picked up her victim and put him in a large tin box,where there were eleven other knights packed together without their heads, like sardines, who all rose and began to...”
“Dance a hornpipe,” cut in Fred, as Jo paused for breath, “and, as they danced,the rubbishy old castle turned to a man-of-war in full sail. ‘Up with the jib,reef the tops’l halliards, helm hard alee, and man the guns!’ roared the captain, as a Portuguese pirate hove in sight,with a flag black as ink flying from her foremast. ‘Go in and win, my hearties!’ says the captain, and a tremendous fight began. Of course the British beat—they always do.”
“No, they don’t!” cried Jo, aside.
“Having taken the pirate captain prisoner, sailed slap over the schooner,whose decks were piled high with dead and whose lee scuppers ran blood,for the order had been ‘Cutlasses, and die hard!’ ‘Bosun’s mate, take a bight of the flying-jib sheet,and start this villain if he doesn’t confess his sins double quick,’ said the British captain.The Portuguese held his tongue like a brick, and walked the plank,while the jolly tars cheered like mad. But the sly dog dived, came up under the man-of-war,scuttled her, and down she went, with all sail set, ‘To the bottom of the sea, sea, sea’ where...”
“Oh, gracious!What shall I say?” cried Sallie, as Fred ended his rigmarole,in which he had jumbled together pell-mell nautical phrases and facts out of one of his favorite books.“Well, they went to the bottom, and a nice mermaid welcomed them,but was much grieved on finding the box of headless knights, and kindly pickled them in brine,hoping to discover the mystery about them, for being a woman, she was curious.By-and-by a diver came down, and the mermaid said,‘I’ll give you a box of pearls if you can take it up,’ for she wanted to restore the poor things to life, and couldn’t raise the heavy load herself.So the diver hoisted it up, and was much disappointed on opening it to find no pearls.He left it in a great lonely field, where it was found by a...”
“Little goose girl, who kept a hundred fat geese in the field,” said Amy,when Sallie’s invention gave out. “The little girl was sorry for them,and asked an old woman what she should do to help them. ‘Your geese will tell you,they know everything.’ said the old woman. So she asked what she should use for new heads,since the old ones were lost, and all the geese opened their hundred mouths and screamed...”
“‘Cabbages!’” continued Laurie promptly. “‘Just the thing,’ said the girl,and ran to get twelve fine ones from her garden. She put them on, the knights revived at once,thanked her, and went on their way rejoicing, never knowing the difference,for there were so many other heads like them in the world that no one thought anything of it.The knight in whom I’m interested went back to find the pretty face,and learned that the princesses had spun themselves free and all gone and married, but one.He was in a great state of mind at that, and mounting the colt,who stood by him through thick and thin, rushed to the castle to see which was left.Peeping over the hedge, he saw the queen of his affections picking flowers in her garden. ‘Will you give me a rose?’ said he. ‘You must come and get it. I can’t come to you, it isn’t proper,’ said she,as sweet as honey. He tried to climb over the hedge, but it seemed to grow higher and higher.Then he tried to push through, but it grew thicker and thicker, and he was in despair.So he patiently broke twig after twig till he had made a little hole through which he peeped, saying imploringly, ‘Let me in!Let me in!’ But the pretty princess did not seem to understand, for she picked her roses quietly,and left him to fight his way in. Whether he did or not, Frank will tell you.”
“I can’t. I’m not playing, I never do,” said Frank,dismayed at the sentimental predicament out of which he was to rescue the absurd couple.Beth had disappeared behind Jo, and Grace was asleep.
“So the poor knight is to be left sticking in the hedge, is he?” asked Mr. Brooke, still watching the river, and playing with the wild rose in his buttonhole.
“I guess the princess gave him a posy, and opened the gate after a while,” said Laurie,smiling to himself, as he threw acorns at his tutor.