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TioLIBRARY OF THE
UNIVERSITY OF VIRGINIA
FROM THE BOOKS
OF
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iFELICIAS FRIENDS
Dy
ELIZABETH LINCOLN GOULD
AUTHOR OF
FELICIA, “SFELIGIA VISITS,"
PEE CES ROR KS aG.
ILLUSTRATED BY JOSEPHINE BRUGE
THE PENN PUBLISHING COMPANY
PHILADELPHIA
1923ee ee
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5Introduction
A PREVIOUS book, “ Felicia,” toldthe story of little
Felicia Lane, whose father was a minister, and whose
mother was out in Colorado, trying to get well. In
her mother’s absence Felicia is the one to go to Black-
berry Hill, as housekeeper for her father. Things do
not all run smoothly for the little girl, but she finds
great comfort in her first “intimate friend,” Winifred
Harlow, and discovers there are many kind hearts in
the village. She and her father win the love and re-
spect of their neighbors, and at the end of the story
learn that it is to be their home for a long time to
come. Something more about Felicia and her friends
will be found in “ Felicia Visits” and “ Felicia’s Folks,”Se Oe ey eee ere tee eek eh ee
‘
ea re en
4
Saat
z€HAPTER
i:
II.
III.
IV.
Vv.
Vie
VI.
VITl.
IX.
X.
XI.
XII.
XIII.
XIV.
XN
XVI.
XVII.
XVIII.
XIX.
ImporTANT News .
THe New TEAcHER
THE First Day at ScHOOL
INVITATIONS FOR A PARTY
A HaALiowe®’ENnN FRo.LIc
Mr. Fospick’s FRIEND
PLANS FOR ‘THANKSGIVING
Contents
THe Oup Corey PLace .
LirTLe BEN HAs A VISITOR
An Excitinc HoLipay
Mrs. Cope Gives A DINNER
Miss SHAW’s PRESENT
THE First REHEARSAL
THE New PIAno
STRANGERS AT BLACKBERRY HILL
Mrs. TorpHam’s GUEST
THe Toy SyMPHONY
LETTERS AND TELEGRAMS
Carina LotTTi
CHRISTMAS CHEER .
PAGE
19
29
36
44,
54
71
79
97
106
114
123
130
138
147
157
165
17Hi
5:
aii
ges
iIllustrations
PAGE
“Pm so Grab You’reE Nor ALIKE” Frontispiece
He REAPPEARED WITH A TRAY : : 51
“ How’s My Frienp?”
° ; ‘ : 84
“TI Can SEE THE PIANo” é ‘ ‘ 127
“Have I Not Guessep RicgHT?” , ‘ 170
Felicia’s FriendsaT TEE
Seen T a eee ar en ne as
oe
Tiss
ri
+)
bt
Eee
rg
eee Neha reFelicia’s Friends
CHAPTER I
IMPORTANT NEWS
THE lamps that glimmered, few and rather dim, on
the main road of the village had been left behind, but
as Felicia, dancing ahead of her father, turned the
corner of the road that led to Blackberry Hill station,
she saw a bright gleam, shining out from the window
of the little sitting-room.
“See, father,” she said, “ Mrs. Harlow and Winifred
have begun to play checkers ; the express has gone by,
and after that Winifred says her mother settles down
to take real comfort. Won’t they be surprised to see
us for an evening call? And what do you suppose
Mrs. Harlow will say to your plan, father?”
“T hope she will approve of it,” said the minister ;
‘she is such a sensible woman that I value her opin-
ion.”
“Mrs. Cope says she ‘does well according to her
lights,” quoted Felicia, “and that’s quite a compli-
ment from Mrs. Cope.”
“Indeed it is,” and Mr. Lane smiled with understand-
9era Tertsiiera rr anikecensete rash eeeaaanane haa sees SaA Pana a mE
Pi par os ts vaca ene 2) 3 2 AS a
Sa eich apy es tm nhay me ee na % i
a pepedie ke ietace
Sees eee ee ee Sete eL rae
10 Felicia’s Friends
ing. ‘Here we are, Felicia. Would you like to give
your special knock ? ”
“Yes,” whispered Felicia, as they stood close to the
door of what Winifred Harlow called “the home
side” of the little station. “Listen, father! Wini-
fred is beating.”
“ Well, there now! I never saw that man o’ yours
stealing upon me, unawares!” laughed Mrs. Harlow,
her cheerful voice carrying out to the autumn stillness.
“You just wait till this next game, and see if I don’t
get even with you. Why, there’s somebody knock-
ing.”
“That’s Felicia’s knock!” cried Winifred, and she
flew to open the door. “ Why, Felicia, aren’t you
grand, making evening calls with your father! How
d’you do, Mr. Lane? Please come right in.”
“This is a real pleasure,” and Mrs. Harlow per-
suaded the minister to take the big rocking-chair
when she had shaken hands with much cordiality.
“T didn’t know as you'd have time to get down here
for weeks, long as I haven’t rheumatism or pneumonia
or anything the matter with me, and so many folks
are laid up, and suffering. They don’t dress warm
enough for the first cold weather, that’s what takes
hold of them.”
“Is it something particular ?” Winifred was ask-
ing Felicia, whom she had drawn over to their favorite
seat in the corner. “ Have you come for some special
reason, Felicia? I know you have, by the way youI mportant News hI
look. Is it about a Hallowe’en party? No, it
couldn’t be that, to bring your father. Do tell me,
quick! Did you know it this morning when I saw
you?”
Felicia shook her head, and laid her finger on her
lips.
“Listen to father,” she said; “ you’ll find out right
away.”
‘““Have you heard about the change in teachers ? ”
asked Mr. Lane, and Mrs. Harlow bent forward
eagerly.
“There! that’s what Mr. Wadleigh meant when he
stopped to speak as the train waited this afternoon,”
she said. ‘He told me he understood from a party
on the train that they were after our Mr. Shaw to fill
the place of that teacher who had to give up at the
academy over in Willowby; and that Mr. Shaw had
said his sister, just out of college, would like the ex-
perience of coming up here for a year or so.”
“That is the case,” said Mr. Lane. ‘“ Mr. Topham
and the rest of the school committee have been at the
parsonage this afternoon. They say there is no doubt
the young lady is well equipped for the work, and
eager to undertake it. There has never been such a
good opportunity for Mr. Shaw before, and they have
decided to release him from his contract, and try the
experiment of having a woman in our school. And
now——” Mr. Lane paused, looking at the station-
mistress, but before she could speak, Winifred,Ree NT rr TO ren
: Nahe ” Pe my
. whe fee
Serer
12 Felicia’s Friends
dragging Felicia by the hand, flung herself on her
mother.
“ Oh, Mother Harlow, say it’s the time of all times
for me to go to school!” she begged. “ Do please !
Why, Felicia and I could learn so fast, and have
such splendid times! And a lady teacher, Mother
Harlow, just think of that! She’d teach us all kinds
of things, probably, beside lessons. And we'd bea
gentle influence over the boys, at least Felicia would,
for that’s what Mr. Gregg said, mother, you know he
did!”
“ Well, there,” said Mrs. Harlow, laughing, as Wini-
fred paused for breath ; “I don’t see as there’s much
left for me to say but ‘yes,’ is there, Mr. Lane?”
“Oh, goody! goody!” and Winifred threw her arms
around her mother’s neck and then shook the minis-
ter’s hand up and down till he begged for mercy.
“Now it’s all settled, let’s talk about where we'll
meet to go together the first day, next Monday,” said
Felicia as Winifred turned to her at last. “ That's
only three days off.”
“You've been to school before, so you aren’t as ex-
cited as] am,” said Winifred. ‘ Probably I shall be at
the foot of every class I’m in, for a while at any rate.
I shall be so—flustered! And I never can learn to
spell.”
“Oh, yes, youcan,” said Felicia confidently, “Pll help
you; it’s only the hard words that trouble you—gen-
erally,” added the little girl, at the remembrance of a
re iahaeey ae yasImportant News 13
recent note in which Winifred had written “I mene
to be at your house erly.”
“Pm good at geography,” said Winifred brighten-
ing; “that’s one thing to be thankful for ; a map is
just like home to me.”
“It’s like a—a wandering wilderness to me,” said
Felicia ; “ you’ll have to help me with geography, Wini-
fred.”
“We just fit in right with each other,” and Winifred
looked affectionately at her friend. “What one
doesn’t know the other does, at least as far as we’ve
gone.”
‘““We haven’t gone so very far,” said Felicia, and
they laughed, and talked on, making their plans to
meet at the corner of Hillcrest Road, which led to the
schoolhouse.
“Of course we shall see each other before that,”
said Winifred, “ but it’s nice to decide about it.”
“‘ Miss Shaw is to board with Mrs. Cope,” the minis-
ter said to Mrs. Harlow, “ and I thought perhaps you
would be glad to have her see Winifred before Mon-
day. It occurred to me that the two little girls might
like to make a call at Mrs. Cope’s to-morrow after-
noon, and then perhaps you would allow Winifred to
stay for an early supper with Felicia, and I could
bring her home when I get back from Green Corners
before nine o’clock. I have to be there Saturdays for
some hours now.” ,
“T know, to help out with that class of mill-hands,”rs rate 7
lamer er Tenenre ere oa eee
Spent et tr en ee
eee
haar bate ane aes Mae eee ce ka oe a a
14 Felicia’s Friends
said Mrs. Harlow; “it’s a good work, and I’m glad
old Dr. Cobbett has you to help him; none of our
other ministers have ever had time.”
“Not even Dr. Jarvis?” questioned Felicia de-
murely, and then they all laughed.
“No, not even Dr. Jarvis,” said Mrs. Harlow.
“That’s one of the things even Lydia Cope couldn’t
say of him. Well, about to-morrow, I don’t see why
Winifred can’t go, well as not. In fact, I’d be pleased
to have her. J’ll try and get something clean and
whole on her, just before she starts, so she’ll look
proper. You won’t dress up much, Felicia, I suppose.”
“Oh, no,” said Felicia; “wouldn’t you wear the
dresses we’ll wear to school, Monday, Mrs. Harlow, so
she’ll see exactly what we’re like, and feel better ac-
quainted ?”
“That’s an excellent plan,” said the station-mis-
tress warmly. “The best thing for Winifred will be
her blue and green check; she can spill a good many
different things on that, even ink, before it’ll show
much.”
“ And I'll wear my red and black one,” said Felicia ;
“ then we shall look just about the same.”
“Yes, so we shall,” assented Winifred, and they
went on with their plans, while Mrs. Harlow and the
minister discussed affairs in the parish and the village
news until the sound of the nine o’clock bell brought
the minister to his feet.
“Dear me, this is such a cozy place, Felicia and IImportant News 15
never know when to go home,” he said, and Mrs.
Harlow looked gratified.
“Pm glad it seems that way to you,” she said as she
stood in the doorway, holding a lantern so that its
rays would light her guests along the dark road. “I
should hate to live and bring up a child in a place that
wasn’t homey. Comeagain, Mr. Lane, when you have
time ; I count it a real honor to have you. Good-night,
Felicia,” and she kissed the little girl. “You and Wini-
fred will have great times, I expect, going to school to-
gether; but you’ll have to come down to the station
all the oftener, so Pll have two little girls to help
make up for the way I shall miss Winifred, mornings.”
“How about me?” asked Mr. Lane, smiling.
“Don’t you suppose I shall miss my little girl ? ”
“So you will,” said Mrs. Harlow. “Well, we
fathers and mothers have to step to one side when it
comes to education. Good-night.”
“ Good-night,” called the minister and Felicia, as they
turned the corner, for Mrs. Harlow’s last words had
been spoken when they were at the end of the station
road.
Felicia slipped her hand into her father’s and they
walked up the hill together, the little girl talking on
happily, till they reached the parsonage.
“T suppose it is too late to tell Mrs. Cope to-night,”
said the minister doubtfully.
“There’s a bright light in the kitchen, father,” said
Felicia ; “ you know she said she’d wait on Mrs. Har.Ser iare itr ontario nate ci eae cinee aS eA csaa an all Seg,
fete kn me ds ae ‘ mpd
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Tei LDA eh tas eB ly ng a a wh
16 Felicia’s Friends
low’s decision. Don’t you believe ’d better run over
and just tap on the door?”
“Very well,” said Mr. Lane, and Felicia flew across
the little path that led to their neighbor’s door.
Before she had time to knock, Mrs. Cope appearea,
lamp in hand.
“So you’ve got back,” she said eagerly. “ I heard
you coming.”
“Oh, I'm afraid I was whistling,” said Felicia.
“And you don’t approve of girls whistling, Mrs. Cope.”
“Not as a rule, for steady work,” said Mrs. Cope,
but her keen eyes were soft as she looked down on her
little neighbor, “but your whistle has a kind of a
happy sound; I don’t mind it, some way. What did
Mrs. Harlow say, Felicia? I suppose you can’t stop
to come in, late as ’tis.”
“No, I mustn’t,” said Felicia. “She is glad to have
Winifred go, Mrs. Cope, and we are coming to-morrow
afternoon to call on the new teacher, in our school
dresses, Winifred’s blue and green check because it
won’t show spots, Mrs. Harlow said, and my red and
black one. Isn’t that a good idea? And Winifred
is to take supper with me afterward, all by ourselves,
while father is over at Green Corners.”
“Now look here,” said Mrs. Cope, “ why can’t you
and Winifred stay here to tea? Miss Shaw’s coming
on the morning train, and she’ll have time to get her
trunk unpacked, and feel a little at home, and I should
call it just the finishing touch to have you two childrenImportant News 17
for supper ; it will make four at table ; and if you felt
disposed, Felicia, you could make a batch of those
famous peanut cookies of yours, and bring some over.
I warrant Miss Shaw would like them.”
“Why, it would be perfectly splendid! ” cried Felicia.
“Thank you and thank you for asking us! And,
Mrs. Cope, couldn’t we put a bouquet in her room from
your garden and mine, because we’ve worked together
through sun and storm, you said ; couldn’t we? Some
of my zinnias that I’ve covered with newspapers every
cold night are lovely now.”
“The very thing,” said Mrs. Cope. “I don’t see
but you'll have to come over first thing in the morn-
ing to help me get the room ready for her, Felicia.
Now you must run home, or the minister will have a
right to complain. Good-night.”
“ Good-night,” said Felicia, and ran across the path
to the parsonage.
“ Father,” she cried breathlessly as she flew in at the
door, “ Mrs. Cope has asked Winifred and me for supper
to-morrow night, withthenewteacher. Thinkof that!”
“It is certainly very kind of her,” said Mr. Lane
from his chair by the fire which he had stirred to a
little blaze. “Blackberry Hill people have been-kind
to us always, haven’t they, Felicia, and thoughtful ? ”
“Tm so glad this was your first call after you
changed from business into a minister,” said Felicia
with a happy sigh, as she seated herself on the arm of
his chair. “Everything has turned out right, andRCRD Tress sere ere erg ea A
a R HY
IVP Tp tse teen tep Riat a bash ha jinifeiine eaten
nL : : cane te ee ae eos wee eee oer o -
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18 Felicia’s Friends
mother’s getting well out in Colorado, and this is out
home for five years anyway, and perhaps forever.
And now Winifred and I are going to school. And
Martin is just as much of a favorite as any parrot in
all the world, I do believe, father.”
“ What’s all this?’ came a hoarse voice from the
next room. “ Martin is a gentleman.”
“Yes, you are,” said Felicia as she ran to the
kitchen and took up the parrot’s cage. “ We went
off and forgot to take you into your parlor and cover
you up, and you’ve not scolded one bit. You cer-
sainly are a very good-tempered bird, Martin.”
“ Very well,” said the parrot. “ Now it’s time for
bed. Good-night.”
“Goodnight,” said Felicia, and returned to her
father’s chair.
“Do you suppose there’s any other district schoo]
where there are seventeen boys and only two girls,
father ?” she asked sleepily, after watching the fire
for a few minutes.
“Tm sure I don’t know,” said the minister. “ But
there’s one thing I do know, Felicia ; that is that a
little girl who has so many plans for to-morrow, and
means to have her father’s breakfast at the usual
Blackberry Hill time-——” He paused and looked sig-
nificantly at the old clock, slowly ticking its way
toward the hour of ten.
“ Ought to be in bed and asleep,” finished the little
girl, “and I will be, in ten minutes, father.”CHAPTER II
THE NEW TEACHER
WHILE Felicia was making her peanut cookies,
next morning, the Topham wagon drove past the
parsonage and up to Mrs. Cope’s door.
“There she comes! Martin, there she comes!”
cried Felicia to the parrot who was on the table
near her, taking a sun-bath. “That’s Miss Shaw,
our teacher, Winifred’s and mine! Mr. Topham
just brought her from Willowby ; she got off the train
there to see her brother.”
“Very well,” said Martin, as Felicia stood on tip-
toe to reach over the table and look out of the
window. “ Very well.”
“I can’t quite see,” said Felicia, “but I think I
saw a light dress, Martin. If she had come to the
back door I could have seen beautifully. Oh, Martin,
her room looks lovely! There is a cushion with
‘Welcome’ worked on it in blue, and blue flowers
in a wreath; and there’s an hour-glass table, Martin,
white muslin over blue; and there’s a pretty -blue
catch-all on the wall, and the muslin curtains tied
with blue ribbons, and a handsome cardboard motto,
framed over the bed, ‘ Work while you work. Play
while you play’; and one of Mrs. Cope’s very best
dimity bedspreads with a valance, Martin! A
1920 Felicia’s Friends
valance is a deep flounce, and we hope she won’t
muss it right off, for it certainly is hard to do up,
Miss Loreena Parks says. And we have gold and
white zinnias and white chrysanthemums (for we
had no blue flowers) in two vases.”
“Thank you,” said Martin, politely, as Felicia
paused and looked to him for sympathy. “ What is
all this ?”
“We put one vase of them on the hour-glass table,
and one on the bureau,” Felicia went on, while Martin
listened, his head on one side, and looked most in-
telligent. ‘Martin, will you promise never to tell
if I tell you something? I know you won't. The
only thing I’d like to change is the mirror; it’s
wavy, Martin, and it makes a person look so queer !
But I didn’t tell Mrs. Cope, of course.”
“Martin is a gentleman,” announced the parrot,
as much as to say he approved of Felicia’s suppression
of the truth about the mirror, and would have done as
much for Mrs. Cope’s feelings himself.
“You and Mrs. Cope are such good friends now,
ever since I sprained my ankle and stayed there,”
said Felicia; “but you do like Winifred best of all, I
think, don’t you, Martin ?”
“Winifred! Winifred!” called the parrot in his
most agreeable tone.
“She’s coming this afternoon,” said Felicia, “and
then you can talk to her all you like, and she'll
answer.”The New Teacher 21
The minister went off to Green Corners at four
oclock, and a few minutes later Winifred clicked
the parsonage gate and, walking sedately up the path
to the door, rang the bell.
“Why, Winifred Harlow, what in the world are
you doing at the front door, when you always come
around to the kitchen ?” cried Felicia.
Winifred’s round face was drawn down as primly
as possible.
“Tf we are going to make a call,” she said de-
murely, “I thought I’d begin to get in the spirit
of it, as Mother Harlow says. I have a pair of
gloves in this bag.”
“Gloves!” echoed Felicia. ‘“ What should we do
with gloves?”
“Put them on, I suppose,” said Winifred; then
she threw her arms around Felicia; “didn’t you
know I was only pretending to be grand and grown
up ?” she asked.
“‘ Ye-es, I believe I did,” admitted Felicia; “ but I
wasn’t sure but you might want to play that way
when we go over to Mrs. Cope’s, and I’ve only just
my Sunday gloves.”
“Look!” commanded Winifred, and from her
small bag she drew out a pair of thick black kid
gloves, of an unusually large size, and with the top
of each finger worn through. “ These are the ones I
brought. They are an old pair of Mr. Wadleigh’s,
and he lent them to me to build castles and dig moatsinkit nesihin een paaniernnanetatainndeneteneieteimieceenatn geen tte eres
S hay poy a oor pa het : rare J
F : We
peat ee er ee eee eet at
Se eee eee Looe
Dery oh bt
eee ee ce ee a eo rer iano oe
22 Felicia’s Friends
and things, because I do grime the dirt so into the
palms of my hands, that mother is nearly discour-
aged.”
“Oh,” laughed Felicia, “ Pm not afraid you'll be too-
dressed up for me in that kind of gloves, Winifred.
Just wait till I tell you my news about our invita-
tion.”
Winifred was as much pleased and surprised as
Felicia had hoped.
“Tt’s grand,” she said, “though of course T shall
have to be on my very best behavior, Felicia. Mrs.
Cope likes me better than she used to before you
came, but my best isn’t any too good to please her.
She still thinks I’m ‘ forth-putting ’ once in a while.”
“She thinks you’re just as bright as bright can bes
said Felicia,avoiding thisdangerous point. “ Winifred,
what do you think we’d better say first to Miss
Shaw? Mrs. Cope said that as soon as she’d made
us acquainted she should leave us to entertain each
other till supper-time.”
“Dear me,” said Winifred. ‘“ She’s from the city,
go we can’t talk to her about country things, and it
wouldn’t be polite to begin about school the first
minute, I suppose.”
“We might talk about the weather and what sort of
a trip she had,” suggested Felicia. “Of course if it
wasn’t a real call we could speak about Martin, and
our Dinah Doorstops and all sorts of things. I don’t
believe she’s very grown up, Winifred ; but it will beThe New Teacher 23
nicer when the call part is over and we're eating
supper. I think eating always makes people more
friendly and not so stiff, don’t you ?”
“Yes, indeed,” assented Winifred. “As soon as
Pve talked to Martin, I suppose we'd better go, Feli-
cia, don’t you? It’s after half-past four now, and
Mrs. Cope will have supper by six, won’t she ?”
“At half-past five, to get the sunset from the din-
Ing-room window, she told me,” said Felicia. “It sets
just to the left of Old Baldy now, and when there’s an
afterglow the mountain is the most beautiful purplish
pink, Winifred. I hope it will be that way to-night
for Miss Shaw. Don’t you believe she’ll love Black-
berry Hill before she’s been here long ?”
“Of course she will,” said Winifred decidedly ;
“she couldn’t help it. Felicia, do you suppose she’s tall
enough to make those biggest boys behave? That
Nate Horner is ’most six feet tall, Bobby says, and he
acts like everything.”
“T don’t know,” said Felicia, “but probably she’s
very tall and large, or they wouldn’t have thought she
was fitted, would they ?”
“Probably Mr. Shaw had her picture, so that was
how they knew,” said Winifred. “At any rate we’ll
know pretty soon.”
Ten minutes later Martin reluctantly unhooked his
claw from the finger of his special friend and admirer,
and the two little girls walked sedately out of the
parsonage, down the gravel path between the brownPEI. ase tery
ty
ne aaa
eoreag
eee Cer eet te ie i Pars)
Ses oh cal eh
eo bo Seer
A SYD PER ERTS Toes See omen tate et
CPSP Rak eye Se
24 Felicia’s Friends
stalks of Felicia’s garden, through the little clicking
gate and up the road to Mrs. Cope’s house.
Felicia had her hand on the old knocker, when she
heard a most surprising sound. Mrs. Cope’s laugh
joined with another, a charming girlish sound that
made the two little callers glance delightedly at each
other.
“Pm not a bit afraid of anybody who laughs like
that,” whispered Felicia, and lifting the knocker she
let it fall with a good “clang.”
There were hurrying footsteps, and when the door
was opened there stood not only Mrs. Cope, but a
pretty dark-eyed girl, smiling a welcome to the visit-
ors.
“J couldn’t wait,” she said, holding out a hand to
each of them, as Mrs. Cope spoke their names. “ You
look just as Mrs. Cope said, and I am so glad to have
two little girls, beside all those boys. Why, I’m al-
most frightened to hear how big some of them are!”
By this time they were all in the parlor, Miss Shaw
and the children, still holding each other by the hand,
seated on the long sofa, with Mrs. Cope beaming at
them from her favorite chair.
“They’re ever so much bigger than you, for you're
not big at all,” said Winifred, from her seat beside
Miss Shaw.
“But you don’t look as if you’d be afraid, not
really,” said Felicia’s soft voice from the other side,
and again the charming laugh rippled out.The New Teacher 25
“You both talk just the way Mrs. Cope said you
would ; I should have known which was which with
my eyes tight shut!” said the new veacher. “I’m so
glad you’re not alike.”
‘“‘ But we like the same things, almost always,” and
Winifred leaned forward to smile at her friend.
“ Almost always,” said Felicia, smiling back at her.
“Except in studies, Miss Shaw ; Winifred likes geogra-
phy a great deal better than I do, and I like spelling
better than she does, except some words that it seems
as if I never could remember. Please don’t ask me
how to spell accommodate, right off the first day,
Miss Shaw, for it sounds just as well and looks just as
well whatever way I spell it, and it’s a very impor-
tant word.”
“It certainly is,’ but the new teacher smiled ina
reassuring way, and Mrs. Cope put in her word, as she
rose from her chair.
“They are both good, every-day children, and ready
to learn,” she said decidedly, “and now as you seem
to be getting acquainted without any trouble, I’ll go
and attend to my supper.”
Miss Shaw took Winifred’s left hand and Felicia’s
right and brought them together in her lap, with her
own soft hands over them.
“ At my aunt’s, where I’ve spent all my spare time
while I was in college, near her home,” said Miss
Shaw, “I have two little cousins; one has dark hair
like yours, Felicia, and one is fair like you, Winifred ;SOE ean cutee TT
ae ad
Ppl ag de Bar eg a ho Ck DS mk Lb ob cE a
et eee
26 Felicta’s Friends
they are twins, and their names are Catherine and
Caroline.”
“ T should think their mother’s tongue would get all
twisted if she tried to call them both, in a hurry,”
remarked Winifred, and Miss Shaw nodded.
“Tt does, sometimes,” she said. “One of them is
as quick as lightning.”
“Like you, Winifred,” said Felicia.
“And the other is slower, but very gentle and
sure,” Miss Shaw ended.
“And that’s just like you, Felicia,” said Winifred
affectionately. ‘Shall we keep you from missing
them, Miss Shaw ?”
“TJ think you will, as much as any one could,” said
the new teacher. “They are like little sisters to me.
I’ve never had any of my own; and perhaps you know
my father and mother died when I was only a baby ;
so there are just my brother and myself.”
“Felicia is the best off that way,” said Winifred ;
“she has a grandmother and an aunt and both parents
and baby John. I call that a great deal!”
‘Mother and baby John are both a good way off,”
said Felicia.
“You have them, just the same,” said Winifred,
“and you know maybe your Aunt Mary will bring
baby John for a week’s visit some time. I have my
dear Mother Harlow that adopted me, and then I con-
sider Mr. Wadleigh a sort of relative, he said I might ;
he said he would be an uncle once removed.”ihe New Teacher 27
“That was kind of him, I’m sure,” and Miss Shaw
looked as serious as possible. “I think we are all very
fortunate.”
“So do I,” said Felicia; “and beside her relatives,
Winifred has a beautiful lady in the city who sends!
her all sorts of presents, Dinah Doorstop and lots of
others; and Winifred has visited her in her summer
home, Sweetbriar Lodge. Isn’t that a lovely name ?”
“Yes, indeed,” said Miss Shaw; “Catherine and
Caroline and I went to walk only a week ago to-day
and picked some long branches of sweetbriar with
red hips hanging where the roses had been.”
Felicia and Winifred leaned forward, and looked at
each other.
“We thought you’d lived right in the city,” began
Winifred ; “ we didn’t know you liked country things.”
“Oh, will you go to walk with us sometimes,” Felicia
pleaded, “one of us on each side? and we’ll show you
all the places we know. It’s beautiful when the snow
comes, too, Winifred says. V’m just waiting for it,
because this will be my first winter in real coun-
try.”
“We will have all sorts of good times,” said Miss
Shaw; “and once in a while we’ll ask the boys to join
us. The college is not right in the city ; J am used to
being out of doors a great deal, and ie
“Supper’s ready,” announced Mrs. Cope in the
doorway. “One, or both, of you offer an arm to Miss
Shaw and escort her out,” and Mrs. Cope turned to-ne ar ane Ch Td
A i : raed
4 2
nar
ers
ml gas Bt BORN Om woo) em pe A oh aro Ma ok BEC ian ta
i Pg a Boa bon a
erent cere eo
28 Felicia’s Friends
ward the kitchen, her face perfectly pleasant but
Felicia thought a little grave.
“You escort Miss Shaw this time, Winifred,” she
said quickly, and before Mrs. Cope had crossed the
hall the little flying feet had overtaken her.
“May I escort you, please, Mrs. Cope?” asked
Felicia, and the face of her hostess broke into a smile.
“Youre a comforting little piece,” she said, as she
tucked her arm into Felicia’s. “ Yousee if I haven’t
put your peanut cookies where they’ll show off well. I
call ’em one of the chief ornaments of this tea-party.
And, Felicia, when you’ve tasted those raised tea-
muffins, if you think they’re all right, you give a little
cough; it’ll ease my mind, for I mistrust I may have
left them in a minute too long.”
“T might just as well cough now, Mrs. Cope,”
whispered Felicia as she looked at the plate of mufiins,
before the other guests had reached the door. “I
know they are just perfect!”
“Sho now,” said Mrs. Cope, flushing with pride, as
Miss Shaw and Winifred entered the room. “ Be
seated all, and know I’m pleased to have you here.”CHAPTER III
THE FIRST DAY AT SCHOOL
Monpay morning at quarter before nine, Felicia
stood waiting at the corner of Hillcrest Road. First
she looked along the road to the schoolhouse; she
could count the seventeen boys in front of it, talking
in groups ; then she looked down the hill.
“Tt’s time Winifred came,” she said, and sure
enough at that moment her friend came in sight,
swinging a luncheon basket, and hurrying up the hill.
“Oh, Felicia,” she panted, as she reached the corner
where Felicia stood, “ this dress doesn’t show spots,
but it can get wet just like anything else, and it takes
forever to dry it; and when I was helping mother,
emptying out the water from the copper boiler into one
of the tubs, I turned most of it right over my skirt.
Mother says no mortal skirt that ever was made could
help shrinking ; she’s ironed it out, but it’s gone up in
the back, hasn’t it, Felicia ? ”
“I’m afraid it has, a little,” admitted Felicia reluc-
tantly. “Never mind, Winifred, boys never notice
anything, and you can explain to Miss Shaw. Let’s
hurry now.”
“Tt’s no use crying over spilt milk,” said Winifred,
beginning to laugh, as they hurried on, “ but I do wish
it hadn’t happened the first day.”
29are
* oy
Paar Ore arn en mantel
abi tip ow Salt 4 Depp ce tended Sen ah es
30 Felicia’s Friends
When they reached the schoolhouse, the boys
formed in two lines, one at each side of the path, and
after a solemn chorus of “ Good-morning !” they stood
with their hats off while the two little girls, trying not
to laugh, walked between their ranks to the door-step.
The schoolhouse was a low, comfortable building,
with a covered porch and doors at the right and left.
The door at the left, planned for the girls’ entrance
when the old schoolhouse was built, had not been
open for many years.
“Ladies to the left,” announced the voice of Nate
Horner, and the little girls, who had hesitated for a
moment, opened the left hand door and went in.
The schoolroom was a cheerful, sunny place, and as
Miss Shaw turned from the blackboard with a smile
and “Good-morning,” Felicia and Winifred felt a
thrill of pleasure that gave an added brightness to
their eyes and a glow to their cheeks.
“Tm so glad you have come in first,” said Miss
Shaw. “Dve been wondering where you little girls
would like to sit.”
“Together, somewhere,” said Winifred decidedly,
but Miss Shaw did not agree to that.
“No,” she said, “I think not together. You and
Felicia spend a great deal of time with each other,”
she explained quickly to the disappointed friends,
“and I think it will be a good thing for the boys to
have you divided between them, in school. I should
like to put Felicia in the first seat of this row withLhe First Day at School 31
Nate Horner behind her, and that delicate little
Kingman boy at her right, and I should like to put
you here, Winifred, in front of Donald French, with
Ned Hilliard at your right; I shall not have the rear
seats used unless for some special reason.’
The little girls hesitated, looked at each other, and
then at Miss Shaw. Then they spoke together.
“We will,” said Felicia and Winifred, and Miss
Shaw understood.
“Thank you,” she said, and shook hands with them
heartily. “Now I suppose it is time for me to ring
the first bell.”
When the boys trooped in, treading on each other’s
heels, Miss Shaw stood by the desk, and the little
girls were in their appointed seats. The straggling
line, headed by Nate Horner, stopped so suddenly
that one of the Hilliards trod heavily on the toes of
the boy behind him, and a loud “ Ouch!” resounded
through the schoolroom. Miss Shaw bit her lip,
looked at the boys, and then the corners of her mouth
gave way. She laughed, the pretty rippling laugh
that had set her little callers of Saturday at their
ease, and the boys all joined in.
“There,” said Miss Shaw, when they had subsided,
crimson and still inclined to chuckle, “that hasn’t
hurt any of us. You see I’ve made a little change,
boys; I know you are all so glad to have two nice
girls in the school after all these years without any,
you'll wish to make them welcome, and as there are32 Felicia’s Friends
(nT Or en ar caetne 2 Sa SET eed
t - dem % recy J
we
only two of them, and so many of you, I’ve arranged
the seats as best I could.”
“Yes, ma’am,” came the chorus, as the new teacher
paused, evidently expecting some answer.
“There is the change of moving you down one
seat,” said Miss Shaw to the leader of the procession,
“ but ’m sure you are too friendly to Felicia to mind
that, and of course she could not have seen over your
head, you are so tall.”
Big Nate Horner shuffled his feet, but grinned in
response to the winning smile bestowed on him.
“ Don’t trouble me any,” he said, making his gruff
voice as agreeable as he could.
“Thank you,” said Miss Shaw, and she went on to
explain to the other boys the changes she had made,
assigning their new seats as quickly as possible. In
less than ten minutes they were all settled, each boy
with his own books, and nobody seemed at all dis-
turbed.
‘Now there is one thing I want to say before we
begin work,” said Miss Shaw when her bell had
brought them all to attention; “you don’t know
anything about me except that I’m Mr. Shaw’s sister,
just out of college, do you?
“No, ma’am,” came in chorus.
“And I know nothing about any of you except
that you have been my brother’s pupils for two
years,” said Miss Shaw. “Not one word about
you,” she added emphatically, seeing the glances
Se eereay .
peer eer Eo
semtngegeselage pete tec ga nate te Sab bese
Bape dv he od a
Selita i ta
Sr yperepeee rt ttre eenese stamensThe First Day at School 33
of surprise and doubt that passed between the boys.
“If some of you have been troublesome and some
helpful, if there are dull ones and bright ones, I
don’t know which they are. I wouldn’t let my
brother tell me, for I wanted to start fair.”
“Good for you!” came heartily from three voices,
and looking down at their crimson faces and the
hands hastily clapped over their mouths, Miss Shaw
knew that the three biggest boys in her school en-
dorsed her beginning.
“Thank you,” she said prettily; “and now I must
call the roll, for although Mrs. Cope introduced us
all after church yesterday, I don’t yet know, surely,
about most of your names.”
When the six Hilliard boys, the two French’s,
Nate Horner, the little Kingman boy and the other
seven, had been enrolled on the new list, Miss Shaw
spent the morning in finding out, as nearly as possible,
how far her different classes had progressed in the
studies they had taken up, and in placing Winifred
and Felicia in such classes as best fitted their needs.
In a district school where the pupils range from six
to sixteen years of age, the teacher has an opportunity
to use all the wisdom at her command. At recess
Miss Shaw ate her luncheon with the two little girls,
and by two o’clock, when the school day was over,
the new teacher felt quite content with her work.
“T think it is going to be perfectly lovely,” said
Winifred, as she stood with Felicia a moment at the24 Felicia’s Friends
parsonage gate, swinging her empty luncheon basket.
“JT suppose I shan’t see you again to-day, for well
each have so much to tell our families it will take till
bedtime. Shall we meet at the same place ?”
“ Oh, yes,” said Felicia. ‘They say education does
so much for people, Winifred, just look what it does
for Blackberry Hill! Why, when school comes into
a family, as Mrs. Cope says, even your meals have to
be changed! Think of having almost a dinner at
night, Winifred, instead of at regular Blackberry Hill
time! I’m so glad Miss Loreena Parks is able to get
father his hot dinner at noon, for a minister needs
heartening in the middle of the day more than most
people, Mrs. Cope says.”
“ There’s Miss Loreena Parks hanging out a mat on
the stone wall, and looking at us,” said Winifred.
“She’s waited, Felicia, to hear you tell about school.
Good-bye.”
“ Good-bye,” called Felicia, for Winifred was al-
ready on her way down the hill. “ Wait a minute,
Miss Parks, and I’ll be there and tell you all about
everything. Where’s father ?”
“ He’s in his study,” said Miss Parks as with Felicia’s
arm around her waist she was borne over the dry
grass, into the kitchen, “and supposed to be writing
sermons; but I’d wager one o’ my rubber buttons you
won't have to speak twice to get his notice. Suppos-
ing you try it now, and when yow’re in there just
leave the door open a crack, and I can hear every
Se eee eee rc eee ee atone f
Speen tess oe: ol po toh me | fo ee
bpd AUST STEER E TTT Tyree tem ee a ett es
Pea oy taeLhe First Day at School 35
word if you’ll speak up clear: my ears are acting real
well this week. You hurry now, and begin; your
father remarked to me he thought the days had grown
a good deal longer in the morning—since last week !”‘ ied
eT ne a
CHAPTER IV
INVITATIONS FOR A PARTY
See aL rent ee teen el ete eel onal
As the days went on Felicia and Winifred grew
more and more interested in school, and all the things
connected with it.
“ Just think, Winifred,” said Felicia one morning in
late October, “we thought last summer and in Sep-
tember, before we began to go to school, that our time
was full to completion, as Mrs. Cope says—and look
at us now! Aren’t you earlier than usual ? I had to
start ahead of time to do an errand at Mr. Fosdick’s
and I expected I’d have to wait for you quite a while.”
“Yes, I am early,” said Winifred with a mysterious
air. Then, looking very important, she loosened the
string of a small cloth bag which Felicia recognized
as one Mrs. Harlow always carried, and brought out
a square white envelope.
“Took at that,” she said, and Felicia saw that it
was directed, in Mrs. Harlow’s handwriting, to “ Miss
Mary Frances Shaw.”
“That isn’t the only one,” said Winifred, as they
began to walk toward the schoolhouse ; “this bag is
just full of them ; there are nineteen more beside that.”
“What are they? Do tell me quick,” said Felicia
eagerly. “Is it a party?”
36
Sey 7 6h cee See bs koh bs
Clic) SAGASGPS RAGES EPRI SCS cr TaD
VALS ESe Te PeeSInvitations for a Party 37
“It’s a Hallowe’en party, and it’s all mother’s plan,”
said Winifred. “She made these little envelopes out
of sheets of paper, and she’s been writing the invita-
tions for two or three days; she never told me the first
thing about it till last night. I want to put one
on each desk before school. Would you like to see
yours ?”
“Oh, I would!” cried Felicia, and Winifred, stop-
ping, dived into the bag again, and brought out a
handful of notes from which she selected one ad-
dressed to “ Miss Felicia Lane.”
It was sealed with red wax, stamped with crossed
hands, for Mr. Harlow had belonged to a society
which used that symbol, and as his widow said to
Winifred, “it gave a real cordial-looking finish to the
invitations.”
Felicia opened her little envelope carefully with her
knife, and read the words on the tiny sheet of paper.
“You are invited to a Hallowe’en party at Black-
berry Hill station, at eight o’clock sharp. All are
expected without fail.
“Mrs. Martua Hariow.”
“There, isn’t that fun?” asked Winifred. ‘ Miss
Shaw is invited, beside all the scholars, and Mrs. Cope,
because Miss Shaw’s boarding there. That makes
twenty invitations, and mother said she wished she
could ask your father and the Tophams, and Mr.
Fosdick and the Markhams and everybody, butSerer trots crrerii et eresrirart Eoecsan ana au SAMARAS arate aaa ey
ape tt ao
dahehetalabpede de beteticateietace ss
eet eee
= SSeS es es
Petree cere ene eee er ea
38 Felicia’s Friends
there’s only just about so much room, and she’d got
to stop somewhere. But she said she hoped all would
understand. ‘There’s just one more invitation ; that’s
for Bobby ; but mother kept that to give him, because
she knew he’d be down at the station for an express
box that came for Mr. Topham last night.”
“Tm so glad Bobby’s asked,” said Felicia. “T hate
to have him left out of good times. Ido wish he could
afford to go to school the winter term, Winifred.”
“So do I,” said Winifred. ‘“S’h, don’t let the boys
see this bag! you keep close to me. Good-morning
all,’ and with a nod closely patterned after her
mother’s, Winifred passed the group of boys and hur-
ried into the schoolhouse, Felicia at her side.
“Eyen Miss Shaw isn’t here yet,” said Winifred ;
“isn’t that fine? Here, Felicia, you put some of them
on the desks,” and she handed half the envelopes to
her friend, “and we’ll be looking at the maps when
Miss Shaw comes in.”
They were standing with their backs to the room,
apparently absorbed in tracing a railroad route through
Mexico, when Miss Shaw came in. They did not even
turn until she said “Good-morning,” and then their
faces were eager and smiling. But Miss Shaw did
not stop to look at her desk.
“I meant to have been early,” she whispered to the
little girls as she passed them on her way to the black-
board, “but I had ripped a place in the braid that
binds my skirt, and this morning I caught my foot inInvitations for a Party 39
it, so I had to stop and mend it then. I don’t like to
sew.”
“Oh, don’t you?” whispered Winifred. “I don’t
either. Felicia is a beautiful sewer, and she doesn’t
begin to tear her clothes the way Ido! Mother Har-
low says people’s qualities often seem to be misfits, i
that way, but in the long run you generally see the
wisdom of nature.” ,
The freedom with which both Winifred and Felicia
quoted from their elders was often almost too much
for Miss Shaw’s gravity. Now she was thankful they
could not see her face as she copied some problems on
the blackboard from a book held open in her left
hand.
“There,” she said, brushing the chalk from her
hands, “I hadn’t a minute to spare,” and she hurried
back to her desk and rang the bell, apparently without
noticing the little white envelopes sprinkled so freely
about the room, until as she put down the bell, her
hand touched the square addressed to her. Then she
looked about the room and smiled.
“‘T think,” she said, when all the class were seated
and the roll had been called, “that we should like to
see what isin these envelopes before we begin lessons.”
“Yes, ma’am,” came the chorus, and seventeen pairs
of hands tore open the envelopes while Miss Shaw
used her ivory paper cutter, and the two girls looked
on delightedly.
“ How nice this is, and what a good time we shallcepeincnonunbarsdebbdeibdabebebereinterennentine Sis 5 sia,
i : fs reared
etree ae oe acer. Se ees A a
; * mn renee gcse cen meee age pete rate teite aban Ln Satatndin taint nce oe ySqi04 wheal
Siete
40 Felicia’s Friends
have,” said Miss Shaw when she had read her invita-
tion, and every boy shouted a hearty “Yes, ma’am !”
again.
Then Nate Horner put up his hand, and being asked
to speak, he rose.
“T suppose we ought to send her an answer,” he said,
“and couldn’t you write it for all of us, Miss Shaw ?
Is there any boy that can’t go?” he inquired, and
without regard to school etiquette the hearty chorus
responded, “ No siree!”
“What would you like me to say, Nate?” asked
Miss Shaw, and her tall pupil shuffled uneasily for a
moment.
“Why couldn’t you just say, ‘ We are much obliged
and are all coming,’ and sign, ‘ Miss Shaw and scholars’
where she put her name?” he inquired. “ Would that
do?”
“Dm sure it would do very well indeed,” said Miss
Shaw, “but I think Mrs. Harlow would be still better
pleased if I write our acceptance ona good sized sheet
of paper and you all sign your names below mine.”
That idea evidently pleased the boys very much and
when school was over, Nate Horner’s name was the
first to go down, below Miss Shaw’s.
“You have three names and I only have two,” he
said as he rose from Miss Shaw’s desk at which he had
inscribed his signature, “but Nathaniel is such a
plaguy long one, it takes up as much room as Mary
and Frances put together.”Invitations for a Party 41
“T think it’s a fine name,” said Miss Shaw, “and
when you remember what a brilliant man has borne it,
you might feel quite proud; I mean Nathaniel Haw-
thorne,” she added; “ the famous author, you know.”
“TI never thought about that,” said big Nate. “I
only thought ’twas kind of homely, and my cousins
used to do a singsong about it and me and it made me
mad. They always said:
‘* “Nate, Nate, overweight,
Size and name, ’bout the same.’ ’”’
Miss Shaw smiled up at her big pupil, while the next
boy wrote his name.
“T suppose they thought that was very funny,” she
said. “I’ve heard things that were a good deal
funnier ; but I hope you laughed when they said it.”
“No, I didn’t,’ and big Nate looked sullen.
“?Tisn’t very funny when you’re twice as big as any-
body else, and have the longest legs and arms any of
your relations from the city ever saw.”
“ Dear me,” said Miss Shaw, shaking her head, “ how
very little they must have seen. But, Nate, you just
remember after this, if you laugh with people they soon
give up laughing at you; you try it next frmier)
“ All right, I will,” said Nate, as he stumbled off
the platform. ‘“They’re coming up for Thanksgiving,
and I’ll just try it.”
“Don’t you know the least bit what your mother is
going to do for the party ?” coaxed Felicia as she andfae NrCrarT sere sree nen ante
: 5 : rate |
shmyetngge balete pated rele tute ala tind patmtntntog immer Ses4 cig yhanle gal
eet en ree ere ee en ee ee er et at oh td
42 Felicia’s Friends
Winifred walked home together ; but Winifred shook
her head violently.
“TI haven’t—one—single—idea,” she said with em-
phasis, “ but I suspect one thing, Felicia, just suspect,
out of my own head. Do you want to know what
Ibas ?”?
Felicia hesitated for a minute.
‘Oh, I do want to know, awfully,” she said, “ but I
think it would please your mother better if you didn’t
tell me even your suspectings, Winifred, because they
might be true, and then it wouldn’t be a surprise,
whatever it is, the way your mother wants it to be.
Oh, Winifred, ’'m glad that little Ben Kingman is
going to a party ; he looks so scared, and as if he never
had a good time.”
“The boys say he is a coward,” said Winifred, “and
they’ve threatened to give him a scare, some time,
Bobby says.”
“T think it would be mean!” cried Felicia, with
scarlet cheeks. ‘Miss Loreena Parks says he’s never
been very strong, and she says his aunt that’s bringing
him up is enough to scare the life out of anybody. Miss
Loreena says she’s been there to wash once or twice
and glad enough she was to get home with her head
on her shoulders, such is Miss Kingman’s tongue !”
“But a boy ought not to be afraid of anything,”
insisted Winifred, “and they say he’s scared when he
goes by the old Corey place, the one they call
‘haunted ’; any sensible person knows there isn’t suchInvitations for a Party 43
a thing as a ‘haunted house,’ ” added Winifred scorn-
fully.
“No, of course there isn’t,” said Felicia; but she
walked slowly up the path when Winifred had gone.
“T know what it is to be afraid,” said Felicia to her-
self, “and Winifred doesn’t. I’m going to talk to that
little Kingman boy the very first good chance I have.
Maybe he’d like to talk to somebody that’s been afraid
and got almost over it, the way I have. Maybe very
brave people make him feel discouraged about himself.”andntaneerietohebehehesenabareete triers 4 i eof
we Zo) . ed
CHAPTER V
A HALLOWE’EN FROLIC
HALLOWE'EN came on Friday, and at twenty
minutes before eight on that eventful evening Felicia
sat with her face pressed against the kitchen window,
looking over toward Mrs. Cope’s. The door into Mar-
tin’s parlor was open, and Felicia occasionally spoke
to the parrot.
“T wish they would come, Martin,” she said at last.
“Mrs. Cope can’t run down the hill, and all the boys
have gone, and they are probably marching up and
down on the platform, and having fun.”
Martin looked along the path of light thrown into
his room by the kitchen lamp, and saw the little eager
face.
“ Felicia,” he said amiably, “ Martin is a gentleman.
Very well.”
“It’s all right,” cried Felicia; “here they come,
Martin! Good-bye.”
“ Good-bye,” said Martin, and Felicia ran to the
study door. As she opened it the cheerful blaze of
the fire leaped up to greet her, and it was a warm and
homelike scene at which she smiled.
Three big chairs were drawn up before the fire, and
44A Hallowe en Frolic 45
in the middle one sat the minister, with Mr. Fosdick
on one side and Mr. Gregg on the other. A corn-
popper full of corn was waiting by the hearth, and
there was a big plate of candy on the table.
“Are you all right?” asked Felicia. “I’m just go-
ing, father. I hope you’ll have a nice time at your
party, but I wish you were all to be at Mrs. Harlow’s.”
“Well, there now, that’s as good as going,” said
Mr. Fosdick, and Mr. Gregg nodded and smiled at his
little friend.
“Why, I hear somebody clicking the front gate,”
said Felicia, “and Mrs. Cope and Miss Shaw have
come the other way.”
As she spoke there was a brisk ring at the door-bell,
and running to the door, Felicia was wrapped in Mrs.
Topham’s motherly arms.
“There, dearle,” she said, “ you run right out and
jump into the wagon. Bobby’s waiting to take you
down with Mrs. Cope and the teacher. Mr. Topham
and I are going to visit here till you come home. I
thought maybe these poor helpless men-folks would
like a little steaming hot coffee, come to get later on
in the evening, and I could make it for ’em.”
“Oh, aren’t you good!” and Felicia gave her first
Blackberry Hill friend a hearty squeeze and ran out of
the door, to find Mr. Topham carefully tucking the
robe around Mrs. Cope and Miss Shaw on the back
seat.
“ Here’s our minister’s little girl,” said Mr. Topham2 die . * “f
iJ
Sapna Settee a we ere re
er ereern rere rey
Secret rts) ene eee aa)
obintntntin ale ditebinde
2 abet epegapete tne aE
ee eet oe rs
46 Felicia’s Friends
affectionately. ‘Going to ride in front with Bobby,
and see that he doesn’t let the horse run away? A
good time to you all.”
“Oh, Bobby, aren’t you excited ?” asked Felicia, as
they started down the hill.
“T guess I am,” said Bobby seriously. “I’m just
about as excited as I can be.”
“ What’s bouncing around under my feet, Bobby ?”
asked Felicia a minute later. “It’s something hard
and big.”
“T guess I’d better not talk much going down this
hill, Felicia,” said Bobby. “If a strap should break
or anything you know I ought to be all prepared.”
“Don’t you distract his mind by asking questions,
Felicia,” said Mrs. Cope from the back seat. “You
know I never feel any too safe riding in the night,
even if ’tis moonlight. You just let Bobby ’tend to
his driving.”
“Yes’m,” said Felicia so meekly that they all
laughed. “Hear the boys!” she cried a moment later,
as the chorus of “The Red, White, and Blue” came
ringing on the frosty air.
“Well I declare, that sounds pretty,” said Mrs.
Cope, and as they turned the corner and came in sight
of the line of dark figures marching back and forth on
the station platform, Bobby’s party gave generous ap-
plause.
‘““Now see here,” said Mrs. Cope, as half a dozen
boys ran to the wagon, “you find out how near it isA Hallowe en Frolic 47
to eight o’clock, for I’m weil out of my teens, and I
propose to stay where I’m comfortable rather ’n get
out and freeze. There, the door’s opening this minute.
How d’ you do, Mrs. Harlow ?”
“Tm first-rate,’ came in the cheery voice of the
station-mistress. ‘“ You can hop right out, Lydia,
with your young folks.” .
“TI guess I shan’t do much hopping, at my age,”
said Mrs. Cope as she unwound herself from the heavy
robe, and put out a cautious foot. ‘ Here, Bobby,
you hold that horse still till I get on firm ground.
There! now the rest of you can hop all you like.
Here, Nate Horner, you give me your arm, and beau
me in to a seat and be thankful you haven’t got the
rheumatism.”
Everybody laughed, for Mrs. Cope purposely hob-
bled as if she were an old, old woman; but she was
the first to enter the Harlow sitting-room, where
Winifred stood, eager to welcome the guests.
“Well, if this isn’t complete!” cried Mrs. Cope, as
she saw the room, and there was a chorus of “ Ohs”
and “ Ahs ” from the others.
In each corner of the room there was a good-sized
Jack-o’-lantern, brightly lighted and grinning broadly
at the guests. Over the windows were festooned
strings of small apples, and bunches of red and golden
ears of corn were suspended from the walls here and
there. On the big table were two bowls filled with
water, a great dish of butternuts, a pile of plates and‘ rey J
ST RTT er er te er en nn na een bn va wate AAR
48 Felicia’s Friends
an old pewter mug in which were the two dozen solid
silver spoons which had been one of Mrs. Harlow’s
wedding gitts.
“Crickey! look at those spoons,” whispered Ned
Hilliard to Felicia. “I know they mean something
good.”
Just as it had begun to seem as if the little sitting-
room were rather overcrowded, the seldom used door
between that room and the regular station waiting-
room was thrown open, and Mrs. Harlow stood curt-
seying in the doorway.
“JT wrote to the superintendent of the road,” she
announced gaily, “and I told him I wanted to give a
party for once in my life, and explained the occasion,
and I asked him if I might use the business part of
this station, so my company would have room to turn
around. I told him there’d be no train to stop, only
the express rushing by, and I told him a little mite
about Winifred, and my circumstances and all, and—lI
want you should hear what he wrote.”
There was a breathless silence as Mrs. Harlow ad-
vanced to the centre of the room, the open letter in
her hand, for to the people of Blackberry Hull the
superintendent of their branch road was a great and
important man.
“Mrs. Harlow, dear Madam:’” read the station-
mistress, “* You have my full permission to use the
waiting-room of Blackberry Hill station for the even-
ing of October thirty-first as specified in your letter.A Hallowe’ en Frolic 49
I have not been to a Hallowe’en party for twenty-five
years, but I wish I might attend yours. As that is
impossible, permit me to send asubstitute. With best
wishes for the success of your evening, I am
““¢ Yours very truly,
“* James H. LEDYARD.’ ”
“ Well, that’s as friendly a letter as anybody need
wish to receive,” said Mrs. Cope decidedly. “You
ought to be a good judge,” she said, turning to Miss
Shaw ; “don’t it strike you that way?”
“T think it’s perfectly splendid,” said Miss Shaw
with enthusiasm. “But did he send somebody fora
substitute, Mrs. Harlow ?”
‘Not somebody,” said Mrs. Harlow, “but some-
thing; Bobby,” turning to speak over her shoulder,
‘you take the lid off, and set it right where the
lantern ’ll shine on it, and we'll all troop in.”
There was a fire in the stove in the waiting-room,
and standing guard at the door which led outdoors,
and was locked for that evening, was a short, stout
figure, suggesting a pillow body, draped ina heavy
shawl and then buttoned into a rough coat ; its head
was the biggest Jack-o’-lantern any of the company
had ever seen. .
“Yd know that pumpkin was raised on Topham
farm wherever I saw it,” said Mrs. Harlow, survey-
ing it with admiration. “ Bobby brought that over
and set it on firm for me whilst you were taking off
your things.”hetenngetetetrneivhoheheheememtewene Te TET IT Tee pig
' ‘ ory J
Serer een ter er
50 Felicia’s Friends
“That’s what kept bumping my feet,” said Felicia,
and Bobby nodded.
“Step nearer and see what Jacky is guarding,”
said Mrs. Harlow; “that’s the substitute.”
Then indeed there was a chorus of exclamations ;
for on a table, close to the queer figure, was a square
wooden box and in it were four paper boxes.
“Lift off the covers, Bobby,” said Mrs. Harlow, and
Bobby did it.
First he took off a cover with pink carnations on
a white ground, and displayed squares of Turkish
paste—pink and green and yellow and white; then he
took off a cover of white chrysanthemums on @ pur-
ple ground, and there were chocolate candies of
every shape; next, beneath the cover of yellow roses
on a bronze ground were almond shaped candies of
all colors, and caramels wrapped in oiled paper ; last
of all he took off a cover of four-leaved clovers on a
gold ground, and there were candies that looked like
strawberries, chestnuts, acorns, green peas, violets,
rose-leaves—all sorts of pretty things.
“Oh! Oh! Oh!” cried Felicia and Miss Shaw,
and Winifred was really dancing with delight.
“Isn’t he splendid?” she cried. “Isn’t he the
very best that ever was? He’s nice enough to belong
right here in Blackberry Hill!”
“ Why can’t we give three cheers for him?” asked
one of the boys, and there was a chorus from the
others. “Yes, let’s give him three cheers.”
~2D
aeres ce boy cea ont here
Oe eras tote bL S
Porton ry Tere ore
;
‘
3
4
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:
1
'
}
hi
i
a
’
a
HE REAPPEARED WITH A TRAY
Be ne tl eeeetiae
mers
Rayne meet eeff
i
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ryA Hallowe en Frolic 51
“You wait till the evening’s over,” said Mrs.
Harlow, “and then you shall cheer as much as you
like. There’s a little more room outdoors than in
here, you know, boys.”
They all assented, for every body liked Mrs. Harlow.
Then the party began. There were charades, with
one room for the actors and the other for the audi-
ence. There were all sorts of guessing games, and
Mrs. Cope proved herself the cleverest of all at play-
ing them.
Mrs. Harlow melted lead in the little Franklin
stove and then the boys and girls dropped it in the
bowls of water, and it cooled in many queer shapes.
It was almost ten o’clock when Winifred, looking
very important, took the pile of plates from the
table and carried them out into the little kitchen
shed. Her mother had gone out a moment before,
and Winifred nodded to Felicia as she left the room.
“You come, please, Felicia,” she said, and her friend
quickly followed.
In about five minutes Bobby was summoned, and
then, while Winifred held the door open, he reap-
peared bearing a great japanned tray on which were
ten plates; on each plate was a little square of ice
about an inch and a half thick. A hollow had been
made in it with a hot spoon, and maple syrup, boiling
hot, had been poured in.
“ Now you must be quick,” said Winifred excitedly,
as Bobby passed the tray first to Mrs. Cope. “ Pleaserete A
ata J
(Sere PNEN rer ener Me a
ee ee ent ae ek bs a oa Sone en ob Ore
eee ener at eer ent eee eer aerate
52 Felicia’s Friends
take a spoon and put in some of the butternuts, Mrs.
Cope, and stir them in, while it hardens. Everybody
do the same! ‘There, isn’t that fun? I learned how
to do that when I was away visiting.”
“ Well,” said Mrs. Cope half an hour later, as she
handed her plate to Winifred, “Tve eaten enough
sweet stuff to finish me, I expect, but I’m not antici-
pating any trouble, and at any rate if I’m laid up I
shall have something pleasant to look back to. Do
you really want me to take one o’ those strawberry
candies home, Martha? I must say I'd like my
cousin-in-law to see it when I next go over there.”
“Certainly I do,” said Mrs. Harlow. “I want
every one of you to take a kind of a show piece home,
beside eating another all round. You haven’t made
much of any impression on those boxes as ’tis. How
much should you say there was in them, Miss
Shaw ?”
“ That size wooden box holds ten pounds,” said Miss
Shaw. “I know, because we’ve ordered it for our so-
ciety fairs, where the candy table always makes the
most money.”
“Dear me,” said Mrs. Harlow, “I hope he didn’t
spend more’n he was able, just out of kindness. It’s
a good deal to accept,” and she began to look a little
troubled.
“Now see here,” said Mrs. Cope, “ you serve the
road well, and he knows it; and the salaries such as
he gets would buy out the most o’ Blackberry Hill andA Hallowe en Frolic 53
leave some over to put inthe bank. Don’t you worry.
He wanted to do it, or he wouldn’t have done it.”
“T suppose maybe that’s so,” said Mrs. Harlow.
“T shall write him to-morrow and thank him and tell
him about the party. Mr. Wadleigh says he’s country
born and bred, till he was sixteen.”
“Of all the Hallowe’en parties I ever went to, this
has been the very nicest,” said Miss Shaw as she shook
hands with her hostess at parting.
“And so ’tis that we ever have, isn’t it, boys?” de-
manded Nate Horner. “Here, let’s get outside and
give our cheers.”
“Three cheers for Mrs. Harlow,” came the first
order, and it met with a lusty response. That was
followed by “ Three cheers for Mr. Ledyard,” and then
Ned Hilliard called for still more. “ Let’s give three
cheers for Blackberry Hill and everybody in it!” he
cried.
“Hurrah ! Hurrah! Hurrah!” cried the boys.
As the wagon with Mrs. Cope and Miss Shaw
tucked carefully in behind, and Felicia on the front
seat with Bobby, started up the hill, the boys raced
ahead, still cheering. And some early sleepers turned
on their pillows, half-waking, and thought they dreamt
of fairy voices calling “ Hurrah! Hurrah ! Hurrah! for
Blackberry Hill!”nemoboiarsnarbatrrriaheheteterahatateene ttt Eyer a 4 tye
u we rar J
CHAPTER VI
MR. FOSDICK’S FRIEND
«“ WINIFRED, have you noticed anything queer about
little Ben Kingman lately ?” asked Felicia one day,
a week after the Hallowe’en party.
“ Why, he’s looked more scared than usual, I think,”
said Winifred carelessly ; “ Miss Shaw says he’s won-
derful about history and most other studies for a boy
of his age, and I guess he reads all the time and that
is what’s making his eyes pop out so. Felicia, have
you thought about Thanksgiving ?”
“ Not yet,” said Felicia soberly. “ But, Winifred, I
mean, have you noticed that at recess and coming to
school and going home, Ben is always alone? The
other boys don’t have anything to do with him.”
“ Well, I can’t help it,” said Winifred impatiently ;
“Dye always told you, Felicia, that the boys say he’s
a coward. And Nate Horner was down at the station
yesterday for some express, and he said Ben had been
given a chance to show that he wasn’t a coward, and
he wouldn’t! So I don’t see why you bother about
him.”
“ He looks so white,” said Felicia, “ I keep thinking
about him. Supposing he was my brother.”Mr. Fosdick’s Friend 55
“Well, he isn’t,” said Winifred, almost crossly.
“If you want to be sorry for somebody, Felicia, why
can’t you take me, when I’ve got to go over to
Green Corners to-morrow, our only holiday, and
have a tooth filled, and it will probably hurt like
everything.”
“Tam sorry, just as sorry as I can be,” said Felicia
penitently, “and I’ll be down at your house with
something—you couldn’t guess what—for you to eat
when you come home.”
“T could, too—peanut cookies,” said Winifred
promptly. “Ill think how good they’ll taste all the
time the dentist is hammering and digging in my
mouth.”
That night Felicia went to the post-office with her
father. It was bright starlight, and the minister was
teaching his little girl to know the constellations, and
many of the important stars. She twisted her head
this way and that, as they walked, trying to locate
her starry acquaintances.
Suddenly there was a wonderful flash of gold and
scarlet, and across the sky and down behind old Baldy
shot a gleaming something that made Felicia catch
her breath. :
“ Oh, father!” she gasped. ‘“ What was that?”
“That was a meteor, dear,” said Mr. Lane. “I’m
so glad we were out under the sky to see it, instead of
being in the house.”
“Oh, soamI!” said Felicia. ‘“ When we get home,Fer ar ener ea Ts eae e Or castes Ld aan eT Ee
ee rary J
eet etr terrier “0
56 Felicia’s Friends
father, will you please explain to me exactly about
meteors ? ”
“Well now, I’d like to be present at that telling,”
came in Mr. Fosdick’s voice from the steps of his store,
which they had just reached. “And so would this
little man, I reckon,” and he brought into sight a
small figure which had been cowering beside him in
the darkness. ‘He don’t feel drawn to meteors yet,
from not being accustomed to them, I judge. They are
kind of scary looking.”
“ How do you do, Ben?” said Felicia, putting out a
cordial little hand to the boy after it had been well
shaken by Mr. Fosdick. “ Why, I’ve never seen you
at the post-office before.”
“No,” said the boy in his high childish voice, “I
don’t like to come; it’s so far, and our road is 80
lonely ; but my aunt said I must come to-night. She
thought there might be a paper for her.”
“She didn’t think anything o’ the sort,” said Mr.
Fosdick to the minister while the boy listened to
Felicia. “I know that Kingman woman; she’s got
wind o’ the talk about Ben’s being timid, and she’s go-
ing to try it out of him, one way and another. I
believe I used to think that road down by the Hollow
was kind of lonesome,” he said in a louder tone;
“when you go back, Ben, I’m going to stretch my
legs a mite and see if it looks as it used to when I was
about your age, and the boys stumped me to spend
a night in the old Corey place.”Mr. Fosdick’s Friend 57
“Was it haunted then? I mean did they say it
was?” asked the boy, turning a startled face up to
the storekeeper.
“Why, yes,” said Mr. Fosdick, “that was the talk.
You see it’s a good thirty years since the Coreys
left it, left it sudden, and nobody ever knew why—
moved in the night; they were queer folks; owed
everybody right and left, which was why they went
away so quietly, I reckon, though there’s all kinds of
stories afloat. But they owned the house, and it was
all leaky and out o’ repair when they left it. No-
body’s ever lived there since. It’s just tumbled to
pieces more and more every year.”
“What happened when you stayed there ?” asked
Ben, his little, sharp-featured face still upturned
to the storekeeper. “Did you hear any strange
noises ? ”
“Lots of ’em,” said Mr. Fosdick cheerfully.
“’Most any noise sounds strange in the dead o’ the
night to a boy that’s used to sleeping a good nine
hours at a stretch. There was the wind in the trees
and bushes, and rats in the walls, and swallows in
the chimney, and a bat or two up-attic, blundering
round ; you’ve got to expect all such sounds in an old
house—but there wasn’t a haunted sound among ’em,
Ben, not one.”
Just then there was a rattling of wheels, and the
mail and express wagon came up the last rise of
the hill at a brisk pace. Express packages for thosechute Soe: \heesbennhiitehet nneedmenmnbetaaadegebetnlytnletehehesanekenme tn TIPE” “Uw « nu |
Rte ree lata abn secs uahede alate din iatatice
es or, hk a me
et eeene eee ee
58 Felicia’s Frienas
who lived in the centre village were deposited at
the post-office, while the Tophams and others who
lived on outlying farms called for their express at
the station when notified.
“There goes Lyddy Cope’s box o’ city groceries,”
said Mr. Fosdick. ‘ll have to hitch up to-morrow
morning and carry it down to her, while that boy
of mine tends store a spell. He’s the fourth one I’ve
had in a year; poor tools, all of ’em. He said to me
yesterday ‘Down to Nashua where I worked before
I came here, if a woman sent off to the city for a lot
of groceries, the man I worked for wouldn’t have her
for a customer no more.’
“¢Ts that so?’ I said. ‘ Well, I’m not the man
you worked for down to Nashua; Pm the man you
aren’t overworking yourself for, in Blackberry Hill!’
I have to sit right down on that boy about once in so
often.”
‘““Mrs. Cope is a real good customer, most times,
isn’t she?” asked Felicia. “She always says you
have the best in your line, Mr. Fosdick.”
“Certain she is,” said the storekeeper heartily.
“She came in with a list a week ago and read it out
to me, little extrys she wanted, part for Thanksgiving
and part on account of the teacher. We checked the
list off, one by one.
“‘Have you got sugared figs?’ she asked me.
‘Never heard of em, marm,’ I said. ‘How about pre-
served ginger? and English walnut meats?’ she in-Mr. Fosdick’s Friend 59
quired. ‘Look here, Lyddy,’ said I, ‘you’ve copied
those things out o’ that city catalogue they sent you
last month ; you know I haven’t got oneof’em. You
just send for anything you want and there won’t be
any hard feelings ; I’ll sell you molasses and vinegar
and all the solids same as ever, and if you want to
get any fancy crackers, don’t you hesitate a minute.’ ”
“TI don’t believe there are any nicer crackers in
the world than your animal ones,” said Felicia loy-
ally.
“They are prime, that’s a fact,” said Mr. Fosdick.
“T can say it, as I don’t make ’em. Now, Ben, I
reckon the mail must be about distributed ; suppos-
ing you step in and see if that paper’s come for your
aunt. I suspect they’ve stumped him to sleep in that
old Corey place the night before Thanksgiving,” said
Mr. Fosdick hastily when the boy had stepped inside
the post-office as he was bidden. “ I’m going to
find out as we walk along. What do you think,
Felicia ? ”
“Pm afraid that is it,’ said the little girl. “ How
can they be so unkind? And they’ll all have fun
Thanksgiving, and he says his aunt doesn’t make any
difference for holidays.”
“They don’t see how he can be scared, that’s all,”
said Mr. Fosdick. ‘Look out, here he comes back.
Anything for your aunt, Ben ¢ Me
“No, sir,” said the boy soberly. “ But here’s your
paper, Mr. Fosdick, and one for the minister and aaii ae = y
: ater]
ae SO ee nn en on Mimens a rn cni me na SARE aa
rw Reuer ery anrrener er rre tate tect ert het ee
ma ot eh el SP hk be oa ot 2 pee 7 -
See eee eee eee a
PERI ErR Aue SPEER Te tere yetesetegeins ae
60 Felicia’s Friends
letter for Felicia. They handed them all out to me,
because they saw I was with you.”
“Thank you,” said Mr. Lane,as he took his paper, and
Felicia hugged her letter with a little cry of delight.
“Tt’s from mother,” she said. ‘“O father, let’s
hurry home and read it.”
“Ben and I must be stepping along, too,” said Mr.
Fosdick, “for we have quite a piece to go, and then
I have to come back, and read what the nations o’
the earth are up to before I can sleep easy. So good-
night.”
The minister and his little girl started down the
hill, hand in hand, and Mr. Fosdick turned to Ben.
‘“What’s the reason you and I couldn’t take hold o’
hands ?” he inquired, smiling down at the boy through
the darkness. ‘ Want to try it, and see how it feels ?”
“Yes, sir,” piped little Ben. “I’d like to, first-rate.”
“Here goes then,” said the storekeeper, and Ben’s
hand was taken in a warm grasp, as Mr. Fosdick
turned, and with a long, swinging stride, started to-
ward the boy’s home, down the lonely Hollow Road.
As they neared the old Corey place, Mr. Fosdick
felt Ben’s thin fingers tighten their clasp on his hand.
His feet lagged, and at last he stopped.
“Lonesome kind of a place, isn’t it?” he said
thoughtfully. “ Let’s go up a little nearer.”
He kept a tight clasp of Ben’s hand as they went
up the slope to the old door-stone. There were no
bushes near the house; one old tree which had beenMr. Fosdick’s Friend 61
struck and torn by many fierce winds guarded it half-
way up the slope; save for that sentinel, it stood alone
with sagging blinds and broken windows.
“ Nothing to see inside,” said Mr. Fosdick, “so let’s
turn our backs on it and see what’s over there, village
way. Why, look here, Ben, doesn’t it appear to you
that’s the post-office ?”
“ Yes, sir, tis,” said the boy. ‘“ That’s the post-office
lamp. You can’t see it from down on the road.”
“Why, it looks real cheerful,” said Mr. Fosdick,
“now, don’t it, Ben? And if you can see the post-
office, why you could see my lamp that I light up-
stairs in my sitting-room, plain as day, now couldn’t
you?”
““T s’pose you could,” said Ben. “Yes, sir, course
you could.”
“*T would be real company for anybody that lived
here, sort of removed from the village, to see that
light o’ mine, now wouldn’t it?” said Mr. Fosdick.
“Or if any boy was to be stumped to spend the night
here, same as I was, ’twould be company for him.
But I s’pose the boys have all taken their turn at it
long before this.”
“ All but me,” said Ben, and Mr. Fosdick knew
that he was trying hard to make his voice sound
brave. “I think—lI think I shall do it the night be-
fore Thanksgiving, Mr. Fosdick. My aunt thinks I'd
better.”
“ Does she?” said Mr. Fosdick dryly. ‘ Well then,er ay cat pene bE nad ee eh ok Seb Be a LUD me
Peano Orit
62 Felicia’s Friends
Ben, I guess it’s settled. I'll tell you what: DPve got
a lot of accounts to straighten up the night before
Thanksgiving, and I shall ’most likely sit up till near
daylight. I’ve done it before now. And if you’re here,
you take a couple o’ good long candles such as I’ve got
in stock, and we’ll signal back and forth to each other
once in a while, just for company. Unless you get too
sleepy, and if you do, never mind me, just drop off.
What do you say ?”
“OQ my! I’d like it the best of anything, Mr. Fos-
dick!” cried Ben.
“That's settled, then, too,” said Mr. Fosdick, “and
no need to tell folks and set tongues wagging, so far
as I see.”
“No, sir,’ said Ben, ‘except -’ he hesitated
“except I’d just as lief Felicia Lane would know, be-
cause she wouldn’t make fun.”
“So she wouldn’t,” assented the storekeeper
warmly. ‘“She’s a proper sweet little girl, Felicia
is. And now we'd better be walking on; wr maybe
I won’t go any farther.”
“Pll run the rest of the way,” said ken, “and
thank you very much, Mr. Fosdick.”
“No cause for gratitude between friends such as
you and I are getting to be,” said the storekeeper.
“You show me how fast you can run.”
And Ben showed him, while Mr. Fosdick watched
till the little figure vanished around a bend in the
road.Mr. Fosdick’s Friend 63
“ He'll be there in a minute,” said the storekeeper,
as he turned to walk slowly back to the village.
“ And he’s going to have a Thanksgiving this year, or
my name isn’t Henry Fosdick !”> cereereer ree Titre wt tty Wye eer Tt St ee a oe rat
Rp ecko he oa Re > a ca Ba esha ee DD : ee
sbrierethehaeaeieeetaeeqianns
Srisiviotserreveearerete a
CHAPTER VII
PLANS FOR THANKSGIVING
THE next morning Felicia woke to find that a light
snow had fallen while she slept, and the flakes were
still in the air, wandering aimlessly about, lodging
here and there, on door-sill or window ledge.
“Look out, Martin, and see how lovely and white
the world is,” said Felicia as she washed the breakfast
dishes, with the parrot close at hand. “It won’t last
long, for the sun is coming out bright, but isn’t it
beautiful ? ”
Martin was absorbed in smoothing his feathers, but
the second time Felicia spoke he obligingly answered.
“What is all this?” he inquired. ‘ Good-morning.
What is all this ?”
“Oh, Martin, you aren’t a very satisfying one to talk
_ to about weather,” laughed Felicia, standing on tiptoe
to look far along the road, over the big cage; “ but
you do the best youcan. There’s Mrs. Cope ringing
her bell! She must want something very particularly,
Martin.”
She flew to the door and opening it, waved a square
ef turkey red cotton over her head. Mrs. Cope, stand-
64Plans for Thanksgiving 65
ing in her kitchen doorway, gave her bell a final shrill
tinkle, and went into the house.
“That’s my signal for saying, ‘I’m busy, but Dll
be over in just a few minutes,’ you know, Martin,”
said Felicia. “I don’t remember whether I’ve told
you before; we only arranged it last week when Mrs.
Cope said she felt in her bones that the cold weather
would soon be upon us, and then she’d have to
stay housed most of the time and let me do the
running.”
“Very well,” said Martin cheerfully. “The best
of luck. Very well.”
When Felicia ran with rosy cheeks into Mrs. Cope’s
spotless kitchen she found her neighbor busily plying
a hammer, to pry open the big express box which
had arrived the night before.
‘“‘Good-morning, Felicia,” she said briskly. “ Will
you take that list on the table, and the pencil beside
it, and check off the packages as I take them out of
the box? If anything has been left out I shall want
to send word at once.”
“ Yes’m,” said Felicia, “ I’d love to. How nice the
names are; seems as if they almost smelled and
tasted, they sound so good.”
“I can’t go so far as that,” said Mrs. Cope, “ for I
was never blessed with as much imagination as some.
Here’s one thing that does smell,” and she held a
package close to Felicia’s little nose. “That's a kind
of ginger that has to be used in an old Thanksgiving66 Felicia’s Friends
recipe; it’s yellower than the common sort, and
stronger flavor.”
“Tt’s perfectly de-licious,” said Felicia, and she was
urged to smell various other packages, all more or less
tantalizing, as the box was unpacked.
“Pm not going to have the sort of Thanksgiving
I expected,” said Mrs. Cope, when the list was finished
and it was found that nothing had been omitted. “I
expected to have my cousin and her husband, so I
couldn’t ask other company, for my cousin is one that
has to be very quiet. But I got a letter last night
saying she isn’t able to come. And Miss Shaw got
a letter from her brother saying he had been invited
to go to New York for the week with the principal
of the academy, and she wants him to take the op-
portunity ; and she had another letter from her aunt’s
folks saying one of the twins has a kind of a trouble-
some cough, and they’re going south, all hands, next
week to stay till after Christmas.”
“Then she'll be here with you,” said Felicia joy-
fully. “And ——” she hesitated.
“And I want you and your father to come right
over here, and make up the party,” continued Mrs.
Cope. “I know your father’s plan—he spoke of it to
me—to find who was left out (if any) and have them
come to the parsonage with you, and Loreena Parks
to help you out. But Loreena’ll be welcome here,
and near as I can make out everybody else is pro-
vided for excepting Henry Fosdick, and I passed thePlans for Thanksgiving 67
invitation on to him when he brought the express this
morning—and he accepted—and he’s going to bring a
friend, what’s more.”
“He is!” cried Felicia. “ Anybody I know, Mrs.
Cope ?”
“Yes, you know him, better than most,” said her
neighbor. “I’m not much acquainted with him, my-
self, yet. It’s little Ben Kingman. S’h! He isn’t
to know a word about it till Thanksgiving Day.”
“Oh, Oh!” and Felicia clasped her hands around
Mrs. Cope’s arm. “ Will his aunt let him come?”
“Let him come? I reckon she will,” and Mrs.
Cope set her lips firmly. “ As long as she gives out
word that she isn’t going to make a mite of difference
for the day, she can’t raise any objections to the plan
Henry Fosdick’s laid out. He’s intending to hire
Ben of her, for the day. She’ll do most anything,
short of work that would clap her into jail, for
money. There won’t be a mite of trouble that
way.”
“ Oh, I do think it is perfectly splendid,” said Felicia,
“and father will, too. Won’t we have the very best
time ?”
“We will,” said Mrs. Cope, “and I don’t believe
but what Mrs. Harlow and Winifred can come up in
the evening; that new expressman’s real accom-
modating, taking charge when train time’s past. He
can answer a telegram well as anybody, take it down,
I mean ; and as Mrs. Harlow tells me there have beenati J
Ree err et er nan art Cate Leech Sane ne a _
Perret teeter cetera ee een cea a Per’ om "
: ; ernie 7 Tee otnlstemtetetnieelegadin beheld bi Rale Md Sabie Serio heditanaletnce owe -stesse
68 Felicia’s Friends
only five telegrams sent in the evening in ten years,
he won’t be driven! Says he likes to sit in their
sitting-room and read his paper. So I’m pretty sure
the Harlows will be free to come. I sounded the
expressman once and I guess the truth of it is, it gets
pretty noisy in that little house where he boards,
what with four small children, come night, when
they’re all full of pranks. Mrs. Harlow has no need
to feel beholden.”
There were some plans to be talked over, and three
or four recipes were read to Felicia, the one for the
Thanksgiving ginger cake among them, and the
little girl was so interested that only the old clock,
solemnly striking ten, brought her back to every-day
affairs. Then she ran home, flushed and happy, to
make an apple pie with crimped edges for her father.
and tell Martin the good news.
Mrs. Cope had said that not even Winifred must
be told of the treat in store for little Ben, for Mr.
Fosdick had wished it to be kept a secret from all
save Felicia and her father. It seemed as if it were
lying close behind Felicia’s lips all the time; she was
so afraid it might slip out some day.
“But I haven’t told anybody, not even Winifred—
not one word, Martin,” said Felicia to the parrot at
last ; “and to-morrow is the day before Thanksgiving,
and then I’ll be safe. You have been a great comfort
to me, Martin, because I could talk to you about it
every day.”Plans for Thanksgiving 69
“Very well,” said Martin, as Felicia gave him her
finger to peck. “Martin is a gentleman. Very
well.”
That night little Ben Kingman tossed in his sleep,
and dreamed strange dreams; but the next morning,
as Felicia and Winifred turned into the school path,
little Ben was standing, white but determined, in the
centre of the group of bigger boys.
“T wanted to tell you,” the high, childish voice was
saying, “that I’m going to stay in the old Corey place
to-night. Then after that you won’t be able to say
I’m a coward, will you?” and he looked up at big
Nate Horner.
“Good for you,” said Nate carelessly. “Is your
aunt making you do it, or have you got over being
afraid, bubby ? ”
“She wanted me to do it, but I’m doing it all my-
self,” said Ben. ‘ Will they call mea coward any
more, Nate?”
“No, they won’t,” said Nate shortly. “Did you
want to speak to me, Winifred?” for Winifred had
lagged behind Felicia and was now beckoning to him
from the doorway.
“Yes, I did,” said Winifred, and she whispered
fiercely in Nate’s ear, brought on a level with her lips
by her position on the steps.
“ What?” asked Nate, as the boys filed past, nudg-
ing each other, and he and Winifred were left alone.
“Your hair tickled me, so I didn’t half hear.”PTET T rrr oer alent A
i
ve
70 Felicia’s Friends
“JT said,” whispered Winifred, brushing away the
troublesome lock of hair, “ that Felicia’s worrying
about Ben Kingman because he’s the smallest one in
school, though he isn’t the youngest, and his aunt isn’t
kind to him, and he isn’t very strong. And I don’t
care much about it, but on Felicia’s account, if you let
him get scared in that old Corey place, Nate Horner,
’ll never speak to one of you boys again! So there!”
and pushing him away with the last word, Winifred
turned and marched into the schoolhouse. “So you
find some way to prevent it,” she called over her
shoulder, as she entered the left-hand door, and closed
it sharply behind her.
“Well,” said big Nate. “Well, if girls aren’t the
queerest of anything, then I don’t know what is!”CHAPTER VIII
THE OLD COREY PLACE
THAT afternoon the old Corey place had more vis-
itors than had ever crossed its threshold since the day
of its desertion. It was strange, too, that each visitor
came alone and with an air of secrecy, and hurried
away with all speed. Last of all, after dusk, came big
Nate Horner, with a bundle under hisarm. He opened
the old door, fastened now by a rusty hook on the out-
side, thrust his bundle in the house, hooked the door
again, and went whistling back to the village, his
hands in his pockets.
The wind rose and slammed the blinds and rattled
the windows, but there was no more sound of foot-
steps until the nine o’clock bell rang out solemnly over
the village from the church tower; then two figures
approached the old Corey place, coming from opposite
directions, and meeting at the foot of the slope which
led up to the house. One was tall, thin and erect, and
the other was that of a small, breathless boy.
“ Well, I declare, Ben, if this isn’t a good meeting,”
said Mr. Fosdick. ‘It came over me to-night how I
stayed here once, as I’ve told you, and thoug’ I didn’t
71Beep re ee er ee es
het Rint bees mpeipepeien eerie: PERE Peni ee
72 Felicia’s Friends
know just what time you'd get along, I thought I'd
come and have a look at the old place, and pass a
howdy to you in case you hadn’t gone in.”
“ Oh, thank you,” said little Ben, “ but—but you
mustn’t stay, please, Mr. Fosdick, for you know it
wouldn’t count then. I told the boys I’d stay alone.”
“Land, I hadn’t any notion of staying,” said Mr.
Fosdick easily. ‘ You wouldn’t have any use for me,
brave as you're feeling to-night. Got your candles
with you?”
“Yes, sir,” said Ben, “and a tin cup to put them in,
for my aunt said she wasn’t—she said she didn’t want
me to take my pewter candlestick.”
“ Pewter is worth more than it used to be, they tell
me,” said Mr. Fosdick gravely. “ Well, when it begins
to seem kind of dark to you, you light up with one oy
those safety matches I gave you, and I may happen to
be looking out and signal to you, same as we spoke of
doing. Now I'll unhook the door, and you go in and
slip that old button on the inside, and then come to
that airiest pane o’ glass, and we'll say good-night.
There’s an old chair right near the window, I happen
to know.”
A moment later Ben spoke to his friend through
the broken window. “There’s a big blanket on this
chair,” he said excitedly, “and a paper pinned to it.
When I light up first time, Mr. Fosdick, I shall read it.
And I think there are some other things that some-
body’s put here, for my foot hit a bundle, and I canThe Old Corey Place 73
just see another one. It isn’t so very dark in here,
Mr. Fosdick.”
“Good,” said his friend ; “ that’s the way for a boy
to talk. You bear in mind, Ben, that it isn’t just
staying in this old house where nothing can hurt you
that’s the point; it’s the doing something that you feel
kind of—of uneasy, we’ll say, about, and sticking it
out—that’s the point, same as I’ve told you before.
Now good-night to you.”
“ Good-night,” said little Ben cheerfully. “ And—
and don’t you sit up on my account, Mr. Fosdick,” he
added, to which the storekeeper made no reply save
by waving his hat, as he turned away, walked down
the slope and along the road till he disappeared from
the view of the small watcher at the broken window-
pane.
“There!” said Ben, “he’s gone! My! how big my
voice sounds in this house. Ill pull the chair up close
to the window and look out, I guess. The stars are
pretty good company, and there’s the post-office lamp
winking across the meadows. This isn’t the lone-
somest place that ever was. I s’pose there are lots of
lonesomer places.”
He drew the chair close to the window, wrapped
himself in the warm blanket, carefully ynpinning the
paper, and seated himself to look out across the mead-
ows and up to the friendly stars. It was fifteen min-
utes or more before the light appeared in Mr. Fosdick’s
window, for he had not hurried home.74 Felicia’s Friends
“T’ll light one of the candles by and by, and see
what’s written on this paper, and what else there 1s
here,” said little Ben to himself. “ My! that floor
creaks just as if somebody was walking on it! But
that’s what Mr. Fosdick said it would do. And that
queer shrieking noise, that’s the wind caught in a
corner somewhere. Pooh! there isn’t anything to be
afraid of! Mr. Fosdick said to buckle my imagina-
tion right down, and say the multiplication table if I
felt the old place was getting the best of me.”
He sat with his sharp little chin resting on his
hollowed hands, and looked steadily out of doors, with
never a glance behind him, even when a rat scurrying
across the ceiling dislodged some loose plastering
which came rattling down to the floor.
“ Pooh! that’s nothing!” said little Ben, “ only rats,
same as anywhere.”
The blanket was thick and warm, and he drew it
closer to feel its comfort. After a while his head
swayed drowsily; the next scurrying rat failed to
rouse him; still leaning on the crumbling old window
sill, his chin propped in his hands and his feet tucked
on the round of the chair, little Ben went sound asleep.
He was wakened by a strange noise, quite unlike
anything he had ever heard before or which Mr.
Fosdick had described to him. It seemed to come
from the road, but the boy, straining his eyes through
the darkness, could see nothing unusual.
“It sounds like somebody groaning,” said Ben,The Old Corey Place 75
“but I ean’t see anybody or anything. Oh, what's
that queer light coming through the trees? The
groaning is out there in the road; it’s pretty near here,
and it’s getting louder! There, I believe I'll light
up.”
He had put one of the candles in the tin cup on the
window sill, and now, unwrapping himself from the
blanket, he drew the box of safety matches from his
pocket and lighted the candle. As he did so his eye
fell first on the piece of paper which had been pinned
to the wrapper, and which he had carefully smoothed
out, and put under the cup.
“You please put this on, so you won't catch
cold,” he read. “‘ And when it’s morning you'll be
glad, same as I was in the thunder-storm, and you
won’t ever be so scared again.
“¢ Yours truly,
“<PELIcIA LANE.’
“Mr. Fosdick brought this chair down in his wagon,
I know he did, and Felicia brought the blanket,” said
little Ben, his heart so warmed that for a moment he
forgot the groaning which had waked him, and the
queer light he had seen.
Holding the tin cup in one hand, and with the other
guarding the candle from a sudden draught which
might put it out, Ben looked about him. There was
a neat square parcel on the floor, and a queerly shaped
bundle, against which his foot had struck, just over
the threshold. The neat parcel was directed to “ Ben76 Felicia’s Friends
Kingman, Esquire,” in Winifred Harlow’s straggling
hand. The big bundle bore in roughly printed letters
the words “For Ben.” The paper was so nearly off
this bundle that Ben tore it off entirely, to find an old
lantern which he recognized as belonging to Nate
Horner. A long candle was stuck in its socket and
half a dozen matches rattled in a small tin box.
“Why!” said littl Ben. “Why! I guess maybe
he doesn’t despise me for a coward, the way aunt said
he and all the boys would. I guess he doesn’t. My!
what a dreadful noise! And oh! there’s that light!”
It was no wonder that for a moment little Ben’s
courage oozed away, and he shrank back into a corner ;
for a strange light flooded the room, vanished, then
appeared again; and all the time the groans went on,
accompanied by queer hissing sounds.
“There isn’t any lantern that would give such a
light,” said little Ben. Then he gathered his courage
in both hands, and called, in what seemed to him a
very loud voice, “ Who’s there ?”
No answer came; again the strange light had left
the room. With his heart pounding against his ribs,
little Ben ran to the door, unbuttoned it, and stepped
out into the night. There was a broad path of light
in the road, and suddenly with a final groan and
spluttering hiss, the cause of all the strange noises
came to a full stop. It was something never before
seen in Blackberry Hill, but Ben had heard of things
like it.The Old Corey Place 77
“Why!” he cried, ‘“that’s—that’s an automo-
bile!”
“Youre right there, young man,” came a voice
from the machine. ‘“ And I’m glad to know there’s
any one awake beside myself. I’ve been hoping my
searchlight would raise somebody. [Tm in trouble
here, as you can see, and I have been for the last two
hours. Have you a father and two or three brothers,
perhaps, up there in the house that could help me out
a bit? And is there anybody in the neighborhood
that knows anything about machines? Why, bless
my heart!” he added, as he advanced to little Ben,
standing motionless under the old tree, “ your hous¢
doesn’t seem to be very brightly lighted. Are all the
rest of the family away ?”
“Pm all there is of my family,” said little Ben,
staring up at the man, who had the queerest glasses
the boy had ever seen, pushed up on his forehead.
“Except I have an aunt; but we don’t live here ; this
isn’t our house; it isn’t anybody’s house. I am just
spending the night here—because the boys stumped
me to, you know,” he explained politely. “I think
perhaps it’s nearly morning now.”
“¢Stumped you to!’” echoed the man, and then a
big, hearty laugh rang out on the stillness. ‘“ Well,
now that sounds interesting. Is there anything to
prevent my coming up to inspect your quarters ?”
“What time is it, please?” asked Ben, as the man
took out his watch.rte J
en nen Aenea GTA)
78 Felicia’s Friends
“It?s half-past ten,” said his new friend, and Ben
gave a sigh of disappointment.
“You can come up and look,” he said, “ but I can’t
let you stay on account of its beingastump. Do you
know about stumps? And Mr. Fosdick and Felicia
both trust me,” he added, “so you see I couldn’t.”’
“Of course I do,” said the man, “ but you just let
me make a five minute call, and tell me who Mr. Fos-
dick and Felicia are. Isn’t that all right ?”
“Yes, sir,” said little Ben. ‘I don’t see why it
isn’t,” and he led the way.CHAPTER Ix
LITTLE BEN HAS A VISITOR
‘You see there’s only one chair,” said Ben, “ but
if you will sit in that you'll find it’s quite comfortable,
with the blanket, Mr. ——”
“My name is Ledyard,” said the visitor, and he was
unprepared for the cry of surprise which came from
little Ben.
“You aren’t Mr. James H. Ledyard ?” and the boy
came close to him. “Are you?” he demanded.
“ Why, yes,” said the man. “How did you happen
to know my name?”
“Tm one of the boys that was at Mrs. Harlow’s
Hallowe’en party, that you let her have in the sta-
tion,” cried Ben. “ And wasn’t that candy good ? I
had one of those round chocolates with a silver nut in
the middle and a paper cap all ruffled around it. Do
‘you remember that kind ?”
“Look here,” said Mr. Ledyard, “am I in Greek-
ville, or where am 1?” :
“ Oh, they must have put that sign up wrong, same
as they did once before when it blew down,” said Ben,
“and you took the wrong road. No, sir, you are in
Blackberry Hill; don’t you remember now abeut the
candy ?”
79OTs 6 see
rath J
de diebin Beli nebeti en dmaeenemnbatenatotehetebete hehehe emgeneeenmn tT! Tot"
era ee ri ot ee oa ya nol oh ee oe
eee enero eee
80 Felicia’s Friends
“T can’t say that I remember that particular piece,”
said Mr. Ledyard, “ but I remember about the party,
and Mrs. Harlow wrote me; it was a good letter, and
made me wish more than ever that I’d been at the
party.”
«Ts cheered you,” said Ben eagerly. “I suppose
she told you that. We cheered you like everything.
And Felicia joined in, and Winifred and the school-
teacher, and I think Mrs. Cope did.”
“Now be careful,” said Mr. Ledyard, “ that’s almost
too much to believe. Whois Mrs. Cope? And first
of all, what’s your name ?”
“T’m Ben Kingman,” said his small host, drawing
close to him. The old candle-holder had been set on
the floor in a corner away from draughts. “ And Pm
the littlest boy in our school, but I’m not the young-
est; there are four younger. And Felicia and Wini-
fred go to our school now, since Felicia came here to
live; she’s our new minister’s little girl. And Mrs.
Cope is their next door neighbor, and she’s very fond
of Felicia, though she’s never liked a minister’s family
much before. But Felicia saved her new curtains in
a thunder-storm and twisted her ankle doing it, and
she was awful scared in a thunder-storm—so folks say,
that opened Mrs. Cope’s eyes, and now she’s ’most as
pleasant as Mrs. Harlow, and Felicia likes her. And
Felicia brought me this blanket for to-night, and you
may read what she wrote, Mr. Ledyard.”
-* H’m,” said the visitor, as he read the words on theLittle Ben Has a Visitor 8)
paper Ben handed him, “I see. Sounds as if a pretty
nice little girl wrote that.”
“Yes, sir, doesn’t it? and she is,” said Ben loyally.
“Everybody likes Felicia; they couldn’t help it. And
Winifred, that’s Mrs. Harlow’s adopted daughter, is
Felicia’s intimate friend ; and she’s real nice, too; only
sometimes she laughs at you. But here’sa package
she left for me, and I believe there’s something to eat
init. Are you hungry ?”
“Now that you mention it,” said Mr. Ledyard, “I
am—very hungry.”
“Then Dll open this box right away,” said Ben.
“And after you’ve had something to eat, I’m
afraid ”
“Tt will be time for my call to end,” said Mr. Led-
yard, “but I tell you what I’ll do. My machine is
knocked out, and can’t go any farther to-night. Now,
if you think I won’t be blocking the highway, I’ll go
out there and wrap up and spend the night in the car ;
and when daylight comes you and I can have another
meeting. What do you say?”
“That would be splendid,” said Ben, “only of
course [ll have to tell the boys in the morning,
because nobody could be afraid with you right down
there.”
“Thank you,” said Mr. Ledyard. ‘ Well, if I’m not
in luck, Ben! I don’t know when I’ve seen an apple
turnover before, and there are four—and look at that
bread! And to think you might have had this picnicPCT TT rE ame
. ee
Seer ererae es tere
Sr aa ri gid 25 ens oa oe ne na ue pepe ae PROD nT a Ce ae er ao oe ee aco
82 Felicia’s Friends
all to yourself! You just let me have one turnover,
now, and then I’ll dream of the other one till morning
comes—that is, if you thought of going halves.”
Ben looked up at him with delight and amazement
in his face.
“Course I did,” he said. “Mr. Ledyard, have you
got a lot of boys at home ? i‘
“TJ haven’t anybody at home,” said his guest soberly.
“Pm on my way up to a cousin’s family home to
spend Thanksgiving, Ben. I’m a widower, and live
all alone in a house about as big as this, but not quite
as lonesome. But I know a good many boys.”
Ben nodded.
“Yes, sir, I guessed you did,” he said. “ Are you
going now? Good-night, sir, and if I wake up first
and it’s daylight, shall I wake you?”
“Do,” said Mr. Ledyard. “Vd like to see the sun
rise. Going to button the door after me? ye
“Oh, no,” said Ben joyously. “I don’t need to button
it any more; I’ll just put one of the old bricks against
it, so ’twon’t blow open; but the wind’s ’most gone
down, now.”
As Mr. Ledyard reached the sentinel tree he saw
two figures close to the machine. They turned at the
sound of his footsteps and he saw that they were boys
apparently fifteen or sixteen years old. They stood
motionless until he reached them; then the taller of
the two spoke.
“Tm Nate Horner,” he said, “and this is NedLittle Ben Has a Visitor 82
Hilliard. We heard what you and Ben said, out
here, so we knew the little feller wasn’t scared. You
see we—we thought we’d sort of patrol the road by
twos, he being kind of delicate and—well, Winifred
said she’d never speak to one of us again, if we let him
get scared,” he ended in a burst of confidence.
‘“‘Ah—she is Felicia’s friend who is nice, but she
laughs at you sometimes,” said Mr. Ledyard.
“Why, yes, how did you know ?” asked the boys.
“Oh, Ben told you,” said Ned Hilliard. “ Well, sir,
when we found ’twas all right, we came down to look
at your automobile; it’s the first one that’s ever been
in Blackberry Hill, though Nate and I’ve seen them
other places. But this is a beauty.”
“Tt’s a pretty good little machine,” said Mr. Led-
yard, with obvious pride in his possession. ‘I thought
I'd give my chauffeur a Thanksgiving vacation and
run it myself, but I’ve come to grief some way. I
shall have to wait till morning to find out what the
trouble is. Now you boys can go home and rest easy ;
T’ll look out for your little friend. But it’s a pity you
can’t head off the other boys.”
“We can,” said Nate. “Two of Ned’s brothers
were coming next, and he can tell them; and. the
French’s were coming for the last patrol. Tl throw
a pebble against Donald’s window now, when I go
home, and wake him up; his room’s on the ground
floor, and he’ll go right off to sleep again.”
“That’s good,” said Mr. Ledyard. “If you boysPERE Cr TENT owe eae Tt
ate]
84 Felicia’s Friends
like to come around to-morrow morning, perhaps you
could help me a bit, and then I’d give you a turn in
the machine. It’s lucky I hadn’t sent word up coun-
try; they don’t expect me; I’d planned to give them
a surprise, but I’m the one that hasit. Will you come
—and bring some of the others, if you like ?”
“Yes, sir,” said the boys emphatically, and then
they hurried home, unseen by little Ben, who had
fallen asleep again in his chair by the window.
It seemed only a few moments after Mr. Ledyard,
half-buried in a fur robe over his fur coat, had settled
himself for a nap, that he became conscious of a reit-
erated sound; as he woke, he realized that it was his
own name he heard, called in a boy’s high voice,—
“Mr. Ledyard! Mr. Ledyard! Mr. Ledyard!”
“ All right,” he said, opening his eyes and stretch-
ing his arms and legs, cramped with hours of sleep.
“How’s my friend? And—well, Ben, I’m glad I got
lost in Blackberry Hill if that’s the sort of sunrise you
have here.”
“Yes, sir, ‘tis,’ said Ben, turning to look at the
eastern sky, flushed a wonderful rose color, with the ~
coming glory of theday. “I ’most always see it when
I go out to the shed to get the kindlings, but it looks
prettier up here.”
The man in the automobile was silent, watching the
rose color grow and deepen and pulse in the east. He.
watched till it began to soften and dissolve, leaving a
band of gold below, and floated off in rosy flecksJoseprnins £
tear
“FHOW’S MY FRIEND?”
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ev Peed tet ee
‘Lididototutebeiaabetrbele cin tntstatat a bad einss
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APL PP TT ne Pree eeeLittle Ben Has a Visitor 85
before the sun appeared. Then he drew a long
breath and turned to Ben.
The little boy’s face was pale in the growing light
and his features looked pinched and sharp. He was
hopping up and down, holding the luncheon box first
in one hand, then in the other.
‘“T brought the rest of your luncheon, Mr. Ledyard,”
he said, “and if you will take it now, please. Then
I must go home, so’s to start the fire.”
““Come up in here a minute and get warm,” said
the man, reaching down a hand to help him.
As Ben climbed up on the seat beside him, and felt
the delicious warmth of the fur robes, a tall, thin
figure came in sight, and Ben spoke out joyfully.
“Oh, Mr. Fosdick,” he said, “I never had to signal
to you once, for Mr. Ledyard came, in his automobile,
and he called on me, and after that I never thought of
being afraid !”
“Pleased to see you, sir,” and Mr. Fosdick shook
hands heartily with Mr. Ledyard. “Your name’s a
familiar one to us, and I guess by now about half the
village—all that’s waked up—know you are here, and
are getting ready to visit you. I started a little early,
myself, according to a plan I’d had with this young
man here. I’m intending to walk home with you,
Ben, to see your aunt on a little matter of business.
It’s early for calling hours, I know, but I can hang
around in the shed till she gets her hair out of crimps.”
The thought of crimping-pins on his aunt’s straight,haga oni shy ree hati enteematanamabetanaaananscenininrersceeenen eee aed
86 Felicia’s Friends
scanty locks, always dragged back into a tight knot,
brought a smile to little Ben’s lips.
“TJ guess you know she never does that,” he said, as
he slipped out of the fur robe. ‘ Good-bye, Mr. Led-
yard. Shall I see you again? I like you,” said little
Ben shyly.
“And I like you,” said the man. “ I may have to
stay here all day, Ben. Ill see you again, anyway,
before I go.”
“You run on, Ben, and Pl follow,” said Mr.
Fosdick, and the two men were left together.
“Look here,” said Mr. Fosdick, “what you going
to do to-day ? The inn’s closed up, for they’ve gone
over to Willowby. There’s hardly ever anybody to
o there, and the Jones’s that keep it are kind of
independent folks ; they shut it up whenever they like.”
“T don’t know just what I shall do,” said Mr. Led-
yard ruefully. This seemed to be one of the times
when money availed him nothing. “ Why, who’s this
little girl flying along at such a rate of speed ?”
“Hello, Winifred,” said Mr. Fosdick, but although
she answered him, she had eyes only for the man in
the car.
“ Oh, Mr. Ledyard!” gasped Winifred. ‘ Mother's
just heard about you; the expressman told her, and
Nate Horner told him ; and I’ve run every step of the
way! For mother said if you would eat Thanksgiving
dinner with us, for there’s plenty and more too , and
everything turned out well, and mother would be soLittle Ben Has a Visitor 87
proud to have you! Won’t you please say you'll
come ?”
Mr. Ledyard took off his hat and held it in his hand
while he made as low a bow as the entangling fur
robe would permit.
“Miss Harlow,” he said, “I have already had the
privilege of eating two of your mother’s turnovers.
Will you say to her that it is with the greatest pleas-
ure I accept her invitation ?”
Winifred laughed till her pretty face glowed.
“Tll run right home and tell her all I can remember
of that,” she said. ‘‘ And dinner will be at one o’clock
to-day, but mother said for you to come early as you
liked. And on my way home I’m going to stop and
tell Felicia that I’ve been called ‘Miss Harlow.’ I
guess she’ll think that’s grand. If yousee her, will you
call her ‘ Miss Lane’ ?”
‘“‘ Please tell Felicia,” said Mr. Ledyard, “that I will
call her ‘ Miss Lane’ at the very first opportunity,
although I already feel that I know her quite well
from having heard so much of her.”
“ Good-bye!” said Winifred. “ Mother said for
me to go right straight home; but of course she always
counts out Felicia. Good-bye!”
“Youre fixed complete for dinner,” said Mr.
Fosdick, “but there hasn’t been any mention of
breakfast, and that’s a meal I set a good deal by.
I can’t give you turnovers, but I can drop an egg
and make toast with the best of ’em. Supposing youate J
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88 Felicia’s Friends
come home to breakfast with me, soon as I’ve seen
Miss Kingman. Then we can all set to on your
machine after breakfast; those that can’t tinker
with tools can stand by and look on; most folks
have that gift whatever else has been denied ’em.
Will you come? That’s all right then. Ill step
along, and be back in less’n no time.”CHAPTER X
AN EXCITING HOLIDAY
THAT was the most exciting Thanksgiving Day
ever known at Blackberry Hill. From sunrise until
half-past ten there was a procession of men and
boys passing and repassing in front of the old Corey
place. When Mr. Ledyard returned from his break-
fast with Mr. Fosdick, he found a group around
the automobile, and in a wagon close by, with his
horse headed away from the machine, sat an eager-
eyed boy, to whom some of the men were talking.
“T’ll hold the hoss for you, Bobby,” said one of
them, as Mr. Ledyard approached ; “you get out and
take a look at her. I’ll wager you'll know how to
fix her up. Oh, how d’ you do, mister; we’re kind of
studying out what’s the matter with your machine.
Bobby here’s seen one like her down to Nashua, and
he’s a great boy for tinkering.”
“Pm glad to hear that,” said Mr. Ledyard.
“Can’t you trust your horse to anybody else,
Bobby ?”
“J don’t want to run any risks,” said Bobby, but
his eyes were wistful as well as eager. “I was in
a place last summer where they repair automobiles,
89PPC En ee Orne Jtied
5 Be
go Felicia’s Friends
when Mr. Topham gave me a week’s vacation,” he
added.
“Then you’re the very boy for me,” said Mr.
Ledyard. “Couldn’t you tie your horse up to that
staple on the barn of the old Corey place, for a few
minutes ?”
“TJ suppose I could, maybe,” said Bobby, “only I
can’t stay long, for Pm over with messages and
errands for Mrs. Topham, from the farm, and [ll
have to get back there in time to bring them to
church. All their family’s come for three days, and
there’s a lot of extra work. But Ive got my
errands all done, so I could spare some time. Yes, I
believe Dll hitch up at the barn.”
The next half hour was a busy one for Bobby. ‘He
crawled under the machine and out again, screwed
and unscrewed, hammered and _ probed, ile the
bystanders gave liberally of advice and comment.
“T don’t want to say too much when there’s plenty
of talk going already,’ Mr. Fosdick whispered in
Mr. Ledyard’s ear, “but is there any chance of her
starting up without any warning, whilst Bobby 1s
all mixed up in there with the gearing? Isn’t?
Well, I’m ready to believe you, but it’s the most
precarious looking performance that I ever wit-
nessed.”
At last Bobby stood up, flushed and triumphant.
“There! I guess that fixed her, Mr. Ledyard,” he
said. “It’s just a little thing that sometimes getsAn Exciting Holiday gl
out of kilter. I’ve watched them at the repair shop
lots of times, and helped once or twice, but I couldn’t
find it at first. Will you test the machine, sir?”
The group thinned as the puffing sound began,
and when the automobile started there was a quick
scattering to the right and left. Mr. Ledyard went
along the road a short distance, backed, turned, and
puffed up to the waiting Bobby.
“Tts all right,” said the owner of the machine.
“ Now, Bobby, if you and two or three of your friends
would like a turn, jump in. Here, T’ll take you over
to Topham farm, and back. Then you can tell Mrs.
Topham where you've been, and I’ll say Id like the
pleasure of carrying them to church. Then you can
come back and drive home; the whole thing won’t
take us twenty minutes. I see two of my particular
friends,” he added, nodding to Nate Horner and Ned
Hilliard ; “suppose we ask them first.”
With Bobby on the front seat beside Mr. Ledyard,
Nate and Ned on the back seat, and Donald French
between them, the first automobile trip was made
with flying colors.
“ Well there, father,” said Mrs. Topham, when the
situation had been made clear to her as quickly as
possible, “If always knew Bobby had a special gilt
that way. Why, yes, I should love to have a little
ride in that car of yours. Could you take me and
three of the grandchildren, do you suppose ? they’re ;
real small. One betwixt you and Bobby and two with92 Felicia’s Friends
me? Well, then, tnat will be complete; and father’ll
drive the rest over in the wagon; no, you wouldn’t
care to go in the automobile, would you, father?”
“No, mother, I shouldn’t,” said Mr. Topham with
gentle firmness. “I’m a real old fogey,” he added
with a smile for Mr. Ledyard; “folks just have to
bear with me.”
“That’s all right,” said Mr. Ledyard. “ There are
plenty who feel just your way, Mr. Topham.”
“T declare I’d like to have Jenkins see that ma-
chine,” said Mrs. Topham as they watched the auto-
mobile glide down the road. “TI believe it would put
his spirit down a mite lower, where it belongs, but I
don’t know as it would, either. That goat don’t know
the meaning of fear, but he can scare folks—the way
he did Felicia and Winifred last summer—and en-
joy it.”
All the men and boys had their turn in the auto-
mobile before church time. Horses were kept safely
in their stalls, while Mr. Ledyard’s car flashed along
the quiet roads, its owner explaining its virtues to his
passengers. The last trip before church was made
with Mr. Fosdick down to the Kingman house, to get
little Ben.
“Yes, she consented to let him spend the day with
me—for a consideration,” said Mr. Fosdick. “Said
she ‘didn’t know why a boy shouldn’t earn a little
money when he could, and they’d never made much
of holidays in her family.’ I told her I’d got a littleAn Exciting Holiday 93
something for him to do, but I’d keep him for dinner
and the rest of the day, and fetch him home at night.
She said she’d be glad to have the day to herself.
Poor, scrawny, uncomfortable-dispositioned woman.
Real Kingman she is, but Ben’s like his mother, and
she was a sweet little woman. I don’t know how
Sam Kingman ever got her.”
As they came back, little Ben, glowing with pride,
between the two men, Mr. Lane and Felicia were
standing on the post-office steps, and Felicia was drop-
ping a fat letter into the slit in the door.
“It won’t go any sooner, perhaps,” Felicia was say-
ing, “but it’s nicer to send it to mother to-day, I
think. Don’t you, father ?”
“Yes,” said the minister, “I do. Now we have
time for a walk before church. Which way shall we
go ? 99
“Oh, here’s the automobile!” cried Felicia; then
she stood very still beside her father as the machine
came to a stop, and Mr. Fosdick stepped out, Ben close
behind him.
“Here,” said Mr. Fosdick, “this is just the chance
I’ve been hoping for. Mr. Ledyard, this is our minis-
ter, Mr. Lane, and his little girl, Felicia, that you’ve
heard a number of folks mention.”
“Tm glad to meet you both,” said Mr. Ledyard,
who had also stepped out of the automobile. “ It isn’t
quite time for me to go for the Topham family ; would
you both honor me by taking 4 turn along the road ?”at
Oa SR are ee enna nts pik wna a RATAMARE RE
x Sa aha ia oan pa bee ms mare aa Be pape tebe veers bot tmope is Penge ioe m pride jetasenlegubateta Gabide Se debededtetaledacn rey sae
94 Felicia’s Friends
“That would be very pleasant,” said Mr. Lane, but
Felicia hesitated and the color came up into her
cheeks.
“Td love to,” she said, “ but—but Winifred told me
she hadn’t ever been in one, and—and she hoped
maybe she and I could have our first ride together,
this afternoon,” Felicia ended in a very small voice
with crimson cheeks. ‘You see, she’s my intimate
friend.” |
The three men laughed, but little Ben, dancing up
and down to keep his feet warm, nodded gravely.
“That’s the way I’d feel if I had an intimate
friend,” he said.
“Yowre all right, Miss Lane,” said Mr. Ledyard.
“Tl take your father, and you shall go this afternoon
with Win—with Miss Harlow,” he said hastily, the
corners of his mouth twitching.
“There, Father Lane!” cried Felicia. ‘ You heard
him! That’s what Winifred said he’d call us! But,
Mr. Ledyard, now you've done it once, just to let us
feel proud and grown up, we’d rather you’d say ‘ Wini-
fred’ and ‘Felicia ’—and then we'll feel that you are a
friend.”
“Thank you,” said Mr. Ledyard gravely, and he
lifted his cap to Felicia as they started off, with the
group on the steps waving after them.
Everybody in Blackberry Hill went to church that
morning ; most of the congregation stayed outside un-
til the Tophams had arrived, the grandchildren gig-An Exciting Holiday Q5
gling with delight and Mrs. Topham beaming gra-
ciously at all her friends.
“ Packed in as we were, we all rose together when
we bumped over a thank-you-marm,” she whispered to
Mrs. Cope, who was twitching her bonnet toward the
left. “That’s right, Lydia, you set me straight if
there’s any such thing in the book. I feel as if ’most
everything had been turned upside down, but I
wouldn’t have missed it for the world. Mr. Ledyard,
we'd be pleased to have you sit with us, Mr. Topham
and I would, unless you’ve other plans.”
“ My. Lane has asked me to sit with his little girl in
their pew,” said Mr. Ledyard. “Tl just run the auto-
mobile down out of the way of the horses, and come
back,” he added to Felicia.
He sat in the minister’s pew with Felicia on one
side and Winifred on the other; but beyond Felicia’s
head, in the adjoining pew, he could see little Ben
Kingman, close to Mr. Fosdick, who was dressed in
a new checked suit and a high collar, and looked none
too comfortable. The little boy leaned forward sev-
‘ eral times during the service, and smiled shyly at his
new friend, who gave him an answering smile.
The sermon was full of good cheer and thankfulness,
and the hymns were sung with energy and enjoyment
by young and old.
“Well, sir,” said Mrs. Topham as Mr. Ledyard once
more whirled up the farm road, “I hope this isn’t your
last visit to Blackberry Hill, now you've learned thebagi |
Re ee nnn eae a naan aR ER
Fre eae ee ee tants
rte nt 2a Rn 4 palpaip mip yn getndn bet nt erays penel a sri mk AEs
ae er a
96 Felicia’s Friends
way. Anybody that was a country boy, and that has
such a tenor voice as I heard you letting out in those
old hymns, ought to come up here Christmas and help
us out with our carols. Mr. Lane has an idea for us
to have a real old-fashioned Christmas this year.”
“There’s nothing I should enjoy more,” said Mr.
Ledyard, “and if the inn happens to be open
then 2
“Inn!” echoed Mrs. Topham, as she seized his hand
and wrung it heartily. “I guess you wouldn’t be let to
stop at any inn! You just wait till this day’s over,
and see if you can count your invitations on one hand !
I’d admire to have you here, if I didn’t know you'd
be spoken for by those more in the centre of things.
And I shall look to see you, and hear you, Christmas
Eve, sir; and many thanks. Children, mind your
manners, and speak up! Mr. Ledyard’s going.”
“Thank you, sir! thank you, sir! thank you, sir!”
shrilled the children. “’T'was splendid!”CHAPTER XI
MRS. COPE GIVES A DINNER
AMONG all the dinners eaten in Blackberry Hill that
day, none had more merriment and laughter as accom-
paniments to the Thanksgiving feast, than the one
served by Mrs. Lydia Cope with the assistance of Miss
Loreena Parks. In the first place, every one was in
holiday attire. Mrs. Cope’s best black silk had a white
neck and sleeves most becomingly arranged; Miss
Shaw and Felicia were both in simple white dresses,
and Felicia had two beautiful pink bows on her hair.
“Mrs. Cope gave me these,” she said to Miss Shaw,
as she stood with her arm around the young teacher,
looking out of the window. “ Aren’t they lovely ?
and oh, Miss Shaw, that little blue velvet butterfly bow
on your hair is the cunningest thing! And your
sleeves! You're all just as fluttery!”
“J feel fluttery,” said Miss Shaw. “You never
smelt such delicious things as have been cooking in
this house yesterday and to-day, Felicia. And now
they are out in the kitchen putting the finishing
touches. Look at little Ben, sitting between your
father and Mr. Fosdick, drinking in every word they
say!”
“He’s having a splendid time,” said Felicia. “ He
97rat J
Letnansenebveeiesetinhelehebateha rene tie?
98 Felicia’s Friends
let me tie that new red necktie Mr. Fosdick gave him.
I wish you could have seen the way Mr. Fosdick had
bowed it, Miss Shaw. I had to try so hard to keep
from laughing.”
“See here,” said Mr. Fosdick, leaving the sofa and
going over to the window, “ what are you two young
ladies looking at us for? Aren’t my clothes all
right ?” and he twirled slowly before them.
“Mr. Fosdick,” said Miss Shaw with dancing eyes,
“you know your clothes are very stylish and so new
the creases are still in them, and you are proud and
want us to look at them, and say how fine they are;
now don’t your”
“JT think they set pretty well,” and Mr. Fosdick
twisted his head to look over his shoulder. ‘‘ When
I’ve had ’em on a few times the coat will get kind of
hunched up between the shoulders, and ’twon’t be
quite so stylish ; you’re getting the benefit of the very
first wear. You don’t think this check is too gay for
a man o’ my years, do you? Felicia, what do you
say ?” and he turned to his little friend.
“T like it on you,” said Felicia, patting the coat and
stroking the sleeve affectionately as she often did her
father’s. “I think it’s a beautiful Thanksgiving suit,
Mr. Fosdick.”
“Then I reckon it’ll do,” he said decidedly. ‘“ How
does Ben’s necktiestrike you both? Looks pretty well
to me, and seems as if I got a real handsome bow on
it—better than I thought when I was doing it.”Mrs, Cope Gives a Dinner 99
“There, Ben knows how to keep things,” said
Felicia, when Mr. Fosdick had returned to the sofa
with many compliments on his selection of a necktie
for his small guest. “ You see he didn’t tell Mr. Fos-
dick I retied the bow. I hoped he wouldn’t, but it
never seems very polite to ask people not to tell, as if
you expected they would.”
“No, it doesn’t,” said Miss Shaw, “and I think you
could always trust Ben; he has a wise head on his lit-
tle shoulders. I think the boys will all take pains to
be good to him after this.”
“Tm sure they will,” said Felicia joyfully, “and
they’ll do anything you ask them to, Miss Shaw.
You don’t know how much they all think of you.
What do you suppose Nate Horner told Winifred, and
she told me?”
“JT can’t imagine,” said Miss Shaw. “Do tell me,
Felicia.”
“Winifred said it was slang,” Felicia began carefully,
“slang that he learned from one of his cousins, but
they use it for their professors, and it is meant to be
very complimentary.”
“Yes,” said Miss Shaw, “ please don’t keep me wait-
ing any longer.”
“He said—‘ Miss—Shaw—can— have—every—bit—
of—my—trade!’” Felicia brought the words out
slowly. “You'd know that was meant to be very
complimentary, wouldn’t you?”
“ Yes, I should,” said the young teacher. “Andrath]
ohne set NbeSydehetsl negihtt enameatanamehetmnenanemeneneteimbereiewe tate Tite
ee ere ere itnee eet in oe ay
100 Felicia’s Friends
I’m very glad, for Nate can influence the other boys
so much. Felicia! Look in the doorway !”
In the doorway stood Mrs. Cope and Miss Parks,
arm in arm.
“Come right out,” said Mrs. Cope, “for every-
thing’s ready and the oyster stew’s on the table, and
don’t ask us which one made anything, for we’ve both
had a hand in all. I don’t know where I should have
been without Loreena Parks thisday. And there’s one
thing Miss Shaw’s responsible for, that’s the table
decorations, so give her all praise for that. You'll
find your places at table by what’s on it. Mr. Lane,
if you'll give me your arm, we'll lead the way, evenif
we have to go sidewise in the narrow spots.”
In the centre of the table was a tall old fruit dish,
heaped with rosy apples and nuts and raisins. From
it trailed seven long, lovely sprays of Princess pine,
ending at the plates, and where each spray stopped
was a charming little card with a bunch of partridge
berries beside it. Each card bore a name, but the
procession moved around the table to see everything
before sitting down to the oyster stew.
“Here’s my card,” piped little Ben. “It’s a great
big turkey with a boy riding on it, driving it by a
ribbon, and it’s next to Mrs. Cope’s that has a pretty
lady putting a big pie in the oven, and the other side
of me is Mr. Fosdick with a whole row of turkeys on
his card.”
“Shows what they expect of me in the way ofMrs. Cope Gives a Dinner 101
appetite, Ben,” said Mr. Fosdick as he seated himself
beside the boy, after gallantly drawing out chairs for
Miss Shaw and Felicia, one with each hand, and push-
ing them well up to the table. “I shan’t disappoint
’em any more than I’m obliged to.”
Mr. Lane was seated between Miss Parks and Miss
Shaw, with Miss Loreena’s best ear toward him.
Between Miss Shaw and Mr. Fosdick sat Felicia, coni-
pleting the circle.
“What’s on your card, Felicia? I didn’t quite see,”
Ben asked and Felicia passed it along to him.
“Four children feeding turkeys,” said Ben; “one
looks something like you, Felicia, that prettiest girl,
see!”
“Thank you,” said Felicia as she took the card,
with cheeks flushed from her compliment. Mrs. Cope
smiled at her and then looked at Ben.
“See here,” she said, “you’re a good deal bigger
than I thought, not being well acquainted. I put you
side of Mr. Fosdick so you wouldn’t feel strange, but it
looks as if I hadn’t divided our gentlemen right. Mr.
Fosdick, suppose you and Felicia change places ; then
you'll have a lady on each side, and so will Ben.”
“As you say,” and Mr. Fosdick finished the last
spoonful of oyster stew and rose from his chair. “If
everything is as good as that stew I guess it would be
a good idea to let me change places once in a while—
move around alittle. I can see I’m going to be put to
it to accommodate all the good things.”102 Felicia’s Friends
It was a delicious dinner, and all the guests did
justice to it. When it came to the mince pie, Mr.
Fosdick laid down his fork and gave a great sigh
which made the others laugh.
“Tt’s no use,” he said. ‘I shall have to get up and
walk around the table once or twice, whether or no.
Anybody else like to be excused for a minute ? ”
“JT should,” said little Ben—“ if you’re coming right
back,” and he looked to Mrs. Cope for permission.
“You go right along,” said the hostess pleasantly ;
“march through the room two or three times if you
like,” and the boy slid out of his chair and followed
Mr. Fosdick.
“ He did that because he saw how Ben was looking,”
whispered Mrs. Cope, as they left the room ; “that’s
why Mr. Fosdick spoke up. 1 expect nothing but
what that child will be down sick to-morrow just from
eating a good full meal such as his aunt never gives
him.”
“Oh, Mrs. Cope, boys do like to eat so!” whispered
Felicia. “I’m sure Ben is having a beautiful time,
and I don’t believe it will do him one bit of
harm.”
“ Well, we must hope for the best,” and Mrs. Cope’s
forehead was wrinkled with anxiety for a moment ; but
it smoothed under the reassuring words of Mr. Lane
and Miss Shaw. “ You both know moreabout children
than I do,” she said. “Of course I know those
Hilliard boys can digest ’most anything but cobble-Mrs. Cope Gives a Dinner 103
stones; but this little Ben is different. Here they
come back again.”
“We're all right now,” said Mr. Fosdick, and there
was a good color in the boy’s delicate face; “but I
think maybe I shall have to go a little light on the
ple. You see Ben and I, being bachelors, aren’t used
to this kind of big family dinner, and we don’t want
to have this our last Thanksgiving, do we, Ben ?”
“No, sir,” said Ben, and then he added a shy, smil-
ing, “ No, ma’am,” to Mrs. Cope.
After dinner there were stories while the company
sat around the fire. First Miss Shaw told a story of
the time she went skating and fell through the ice;
then the minister told about a Thanksgiving Day
when he was a little boy and the turkey had run
away. That came out all right in the end and made
everybody laugh.
“T like to see a minister social, the way Mr. Lane
is,’ said Mrs. Cope aside to Miss Shaw. ‘“ Our former
minister, Dr. Jarvis, was the best of men, but he was
inclined to be silent in company.”
“Just wait till I tell that to Felicia!” thought Miss
Shaw; for Dr. Jarvis was the paragon whose many
shining virtues had caused the little girl much
anxiety during her first months at Blackberry Hill.
“T think Mr. Lane is exactly the man for this place,”
she said aloud, “as long as he doesn’t wish a large
parish.”
‘There, Mr. Fosdick’s going to tell about his beara Meee ee ne nn eam hae ee,
. bd I
104 Felicia’s Friends
hunt,” said Mrs. Cope. “ Felicia’s got him started on
it. You listen, now.”
The bear-hunt was so exciting that Ben’s eyes were
wide with eagerness before it was over.
“ Oh, I didn’t know you could tell stories like that,”
he said when the last word had been spoken and the
applause had died away. “ Will you tell me another
to-night when we’re walking home raed
“JT have one about a young fox that will fit right
in,” said Mr. Fosdick. ‘“ Supposing you come sit in
this big chair with me, Ben, and watch the fire. Just
because you happen to know a few more dates in
history than some is no reason why you shouldn’t
play little boy once in a while.”
Ben needed no second invitation; he sat snuggled
up close to Mr. Fosdick, looking at the fire while the
talk went on. It was almost dusk, and the candle in
the tall candlestick at the far corner of the room had
just been lighted when Felicia heard a “ chug ! chug!”
and sat up straight in her chair.
“You two come outside with me,” said Mrs. Cope
softly. “That child’s asleep, and we needn’t disturb
him. You two men talk on a little, so the silence
won't wake him up.”
The three stole from the room, closing the door into
the hall, and the front door was opened by Mrs. Cope
as Mr. Ledyard came up the path. Mrs. Harlow was
on the back seat and Winifred in front.
‘No, I thank you,” Mrs. Cope said firmly to Mr.Mrs. Cope Gives a Dinner 105
Ledyard; “I know what you’re going to invite me to
do, but I’d rather not. I’m none too fond even of rid-
ing behind a horse, and as for going along like mad
behind nothing, I couldn’t! But these young folks
are all of a twitter to start. I make you acquainted
with Miss Shaw. She’ll fit in with Mrs. Harlow, and
you can have the two little girls in front.”
Mr. Ledyard smiled to himself at Mrs. Cope’s brisk
way of arranging for his guests, but he acquiesced in
all she said, and in a few minutes the automobile
whirled off with two happy children on the front seat.
“ Winifred,” said Felicia, leaning forward, “ isn’t
this just like afairy story? And Mr. Ledyard is the
prince in it!”
“Yes,” said Winifred; “and there are two prin-
cesses instead of one. Don’t you feel like a princess,
Felicia ?”
“T feel,” said Felicia, “ like a flying Snow Queen-~
that’s truly the way I feel!”aaabonehedsieiebbbebekebeetereen ttre tyne id «ping
' rere J
CHAPTER XII
MISS SHAW’S PRESENT
For days after Thanksgiving the visit of Mr.
Ledyard and his automobile to Blackberry Hill was
the chief topic of conversation, and little Ben King-
man suddenly found himself a person of considerable
importance; for he had been the first to welcome the
stranger whose name was so well known in the village.
‘““T suppose when he comes up Christmas time you’ll
be waiting at the old Corey place to see him again,”
chaffed Nate Horner, but he grinned good-naturedly
down at Ben, and the boy did not mind his words in
the least.
“No,” he said, “he isn’t coming that way, you
know, Nate, well as I do! He’s coming by the main
road, right to the parsonage, ’cause that’s where he’ll
stay while he’s here—two whole days and two whole
nights, and a piece of the third day. He chose the
parsonage out of all the invitations.”
“T know why he did it,” said Winifred, who had
come out on the door-step to hear what the boys were
saying, while Felicia was looking over a problem with
Miss Shaw. “I know why he chose the parsonage;
mother says it’s because then there’ll be no chance for
jealousy among the grown folks that are housekeep-
106Miss Shaw's Present 107
ers, for Felicia is only a little girl. And I shall be
there a great deal too; and of course we’d have been
the ones to entertain him if we’d lived in a regular
house and had accommodations, mother said, because
mother is off—offishly connected with him in business,
you see.”
“Did you know Bobby Simpson is coming next
term ?” Ned Hilliard asked her. “ He told me last
night. Mr. Ledyard’s written a letter to Mr. Topham,
and they’ve got it fixed up between them. And
Christmas holidays Bobby’s to go down to the city for
three days and see a lot of automobiles ; and my
mother says » Ned stopped and closed his mouth
firmly.
Winifred twitched his sleeve with impatient fingers.
“ What did she say ?” she demanded, but Ned shook
his head.
“Qan’t tell,” he said, between his teeth. “T for-
got.”
“Oh, how mean!” cried Winifred, and she turned
and whisked into the schoolhouse, closing the door
sharply behind her.
“J do think boys are just as provoking as they can
be!” she complained to Miss Shaw and Felicia, who
had at last conquered the knotty problem. “There’s
Ned Hilliard, stopping right in the very middle of
what his mother said about Bobby Simpson going to
the city in the holidays—and he won’t speak one other
single word !”’[aren eT ever nt ee eet ae ok arene
. rea]
108 Felicia’s Friends
“Never mind,” said Miss Shaw, laughing at Wini-
fred’s doleful face. ‘Just pretend you don’t care, and
come out into the woods with Felicia and me. We
have fifteen minutes left, and perhaps we can find
some partridge berries; and I know where there’s a
black alder bush.”
“ All right,” said Winifred, “ but let’s hold our heads
very high, and hurry past the boys as if we were
going somewhere special, and didn’t want them to
know.”
When they were returning, their arms laden with
great branches of the black alder, covered with bright
red berries, Miss Shaw told them a delightful piece of
news.
“T had a letter from my aunt last night,” she said,
‘‘and what do you suppose is coming to me this week
from the city ?”
“A beautiful fur coat and a hat to match it, anda
great fur muff,” said Winifred, but Miss Shaw laughed
and shook her head.
“You aren’t even ‘ warm,’ ”’ she said.
“A real live dog,” said Felicia softly, “ with great
brown eyes and a long lovely tail.”
“No, you aren’t a bit ‘warmer’ than Winifred,”
said Miss Shaw. “Shall I tell, or will you guess
again ?”
“‘ Please tell,” they pleaded. ‘“‘ Now, before we get
to the boys again,” added Winifred.
“T’ve written her about my pupils,” said MissMiss Shaw’s Present 109
Shaw, “and how many of you sing and whistle, and
she is sending me—a beautiful—little—piano!”
“Oh! Oh!” cried the children. “How splen-
aid 1”
“IT wrote her about the melodeon at the church,”
said Miss Shaw, “and told her Mr. Lane and I were
planning to use that for rehearsals for the carols, and
that Miss Markham had said after Christmas we might
all go to her house once a week, and sing with her old
piano, though she knows it is cracked and not of much
use. It was kind of her—very—but she’ll be as glad
as I that we are to have a new one.”
“Is Mrs. Cope pleased?” asked Felicia, breath-
lessly.
“She is perfectly delighted,” said Miss Shaw.
“You children may have to be pretty careful about
muddy shoes, or snowy ones—but she declared she
is looking forward to the evenings. As there are only
three weeks now before Christmas your father thinks
we should practice the carols twice a week, and I
wonder how you would all like to take part in a
Kinder Symphony Christmas night, to help entertain
Mr. Ledyard ?”
“Oh, what is a Kinder Symphony ?” cried: Felicia
and Winifred.
“Tl tell you by and by,” said Miss Shaw as they
reached the school path.
“TI guess we can hold our heads high now,” said
Winifred, and her small chin was at a most scornfulrary
Lelmanhedshedsieinknbeteheeesnharnn ts three
110 Felicia’s Friends
angle as she marched up the path, holding Felicia
tightly by the arm.
When the school session was over Miss Shaw
stepped out from behind her’ desk, but instead of
striking her little bell for the children to sit at atten-
tion, she said she had something to tell them.
“To-night we are to have our first rehearsal of the
Christmas carols,” she said, “at the church, as you
know, and I hope every one of you will be there,
promptly at seven o’clock. May I depend on you
MU g
“Yes, Miss Shaw!” came in nineteen youthful
voices pitched in many different keys.
“T thought so,” and their teacher gave them the
smile which had won all their hearts. ‘ Now, there is
another thing I would like to ask. Have any of you
ever heard of a Kinder Symphony (Kinder is the
German word for children), or as it is very often called,
a Toy Symphony ?”
“T have,” said Nate Horner, after a wild thrashing
in the air with his hand had procured him the posi-
tion of speaker. ‘“ My city cousins played in one—
and they said it was pretty good fun. But we
couldn’t have one, because there isn’t any piano in
Blackberry Hill but Mrs. Markham’s, and she says half
the notes don’t sound.”
Winifred looked at Nate with a superior smile, and
coughed so violently, that in spite of herself Miss
Shaw’s face gave way.Miss Shaw's Present Iii
“Winifred and Felicia know something you boys
haven’t heard yet,” she said (“and I could have just
hugged you for saying it,” Winifred told her after-
ward). ‘“ My aunt has sent me a piano, which will ar-
rive to-morrow or the day after, and I have the music
of one of the Toy Symphonies, with the separate part
for each instrument in my trunk, at Mrs. Cope’s.”
“Whew!” said big Nate. “That’s Say, Miss
Shaw, isn’t school dismissed, really ?” and he looked
at the clock.
“Yes, I suppose it is,” said Miss Shaw. “T’ll not
be too strict about discipline on this special occasion.”
‘Well, then, if I don’t have to use careful grammar
talk,” said Nate, “I call that simply great, don’t you,
boys?”
“Yes, we do,” shouted the boys all together.
“And so do we, Nate, though we’re only girls,” said
Felicia, showing her dimples, and Nate turned to her
with a laugh.
“‘ Beg your pardon, Felicia,” he said, “and Winifred’s
too; you see we’ve been just boys so long we sort of
forget—er—of course we ——”
Winifred gave a loud and scornful sniff, and then
they all laughed.
“But I don’t believe I could play anything,”
lamented Winifred after a minute. “I couldn’t learn
anything that had to be blown into, like a trumpet or
a horn, or even a whistle, because I always laugh, and
then the sound jiggles up and down; I’ve tried play-Letacenenenbtnieislbhelaketoreqemmne trinity.
rary
eee ster teen err
112 Felicia’s Friends
ing a tin trumpet just for mother, and it makes me feel
so foolish !”
“We'll find something you can play,” Miss Shaw
reassured her; “the boys will be the ones to blow
trumpets. Now, will you all be ready to have a re-
hearsal the first night after the piano comes? Mrs.
Cope said I might ask you.”
“ Yes, ma’am!” cried the chorus, and then school
really dismissed itself.
“ Felicia,” said Miss Shaw as she lingered at the
parsonage gate for a moment to watch Winifred flying
down the hill to her mother with her news, “ have you
ever played ona piano? Iknow how you love music.”
“My grandmother has one at my Aunt Mary’s,”
said Felicia; “and Aunt Mary taught me how to
play—the very beginning, I mean, Miss Shaw—and I
did love it so! That?’s one of the very, very few
things Winifred and I don’t feel the same about,”
she added. “Winifred says the lady she visited last
summer has a cousin that plays the piano,—and Wint-
fred thinks it is a very lonesome sound !”
“ Perhaps we might think so, if we heard the young
lady play,” laughed Miss Shaw. “ But I don’t believe
it would make Winifred feel lonesome if she ,were
playing the piano herself, or perhaps with you, in a
little duet.”
“Oh, Miss Shaw!” cried Felicia, “could we, ever
in this world, learn to do that, Winifred and I?
Would you teach us?”Miss Shaw's Present 113
“Td like to try it,” said Miss Shaw, swinging both
Felicia’s little hands in hers.
“Then if you'd like to try it, of course we shall do
it,” said Felicia, with perfect confidence in her tone.
“You could teach anybody anything, Miss Shaw;
Mrs. Cope says you were born with a gift such as
comes to few. And oh, aren’t yougood to us! We'll
learn just as hard, and practice as soft, so as not to
disturb Mrs. Cope, if she’s willing to have us.”
“The practicing would be done for a few minutes
after school each day at first, with me to help,” said
Miss Shaw; “and then—but there is something I must
not tell yet,” said Miss Shaw. “I’m as bad as Ned
Hilliard, I’m afraid.”
“Oh, I can wait for anything,” said Felicia, “for at
Blackberry Hill, each new thing that happens is still
nicer than anything that’s happened before. Good-bye
till after supper, Miss Shaw. Oh, won’t father be ex-
cited—and Miss Loreena, if she’s there in the kitchen
—and Martin!”Letannhnecbetinntainkehetatete teeter Ts 6 pie
rary |
Seen eters nee
OHAPTER XIII
THE FIRST REHEARSAL
SuPPERS were hastily eaten that night, and by
quarter before seven there was a group of boys on
the church steps, all hopping up and down and clap-
ping their hands to keep warm.
“This is the kind of weather I like,” said Donald
French, as he clicked his heels together and shuttled
his feet on the cold stones; “none of your make-believe
Christmases for me! Snow and ice and the kind of
air that makes you hustle right along and do things—
that’s my kind.”
“My kind, too,” said Nate, and there was a chorus
of “ Mine, too,” as the minister with Miss Shaw and
the two little girls came out from the parsonage.
“Ts that a new carol, boys?” asked Mr. Lane with
a laugh, as he reached the group. “You just sing the
ones we are to practice with as much spirit, and we
shall be all right.”
“We'll try,” cried the boys, as they clattered into
the church behind the minister’s party.
“ Here comes Bobby Simpson!” called the last boy.
“ How did you get here, Bob?”
“T left—the—horse—at the Markhams’,” panted
Bobby ; “ and—l’ve—run—all—the— way! ”
114The First Rehearsal 115
“You’re more than on time,” said Mr. Lane. “How
is Miss Ellen’s cold to-night?” for it was because a
heavy cold had housed Miss Markham that the young
teacher had her place at the rehearsal.
“She’s feeling better,” said Bobby as he gravely
shook hands with the minister. “She thinks if it
keeps on loosening up she’ll be out by Sunday.”
Miss Shaw took her seat at the melodeon, and
opened a little book which had a bright red cover,
bearing in gilt letters the title “ Christmas Carols.”
“Let us begin with, ‘It came upon the midnight
clear,’” said Mr. Lane, when the package of little red
books had been distributed. “How many of you boys
would be willing to try singing the alto part ?”
Three voices answered—two of them belonged in
the Hilliard family, but the third and loudest was
Winifred’s. |
“Two boys would hardly be enough,” said Mr.
Lane, when the laughter had subsided; “you have a
strong voice, Winifred, and we shall be greatly obliged
to you for helping with the alto. Felicia, don’t you
think you could join Winifred ? ”
“Why, of course, father, if you’d rather have me,”
said Felicia, and Miss Shaw smiled with inward ap-
preciation of the minister’s tact ; for Winifred’s voice
was more strong than sweet, and Felicia’s would blend
with it to soften and sweeten it.
“But we need Felicia to help us out,” said Nate in
atone of great alarm. ‘ We can keep the tune if sheare ree eee ee eee Tae ete
aye pe
= Bi ae oo os
a
ee ere eer tor nees
116 Felicia’s Friends
sings with us, but we’ll be lost without her, Mr. Lane.
The people won’t know what we’re trying to sing!”
“ Here’s somebody who will help you out,” and
Mr. Lane drew Bobby forward, close to Miss Shaw.
“ Pye learned from Mr. Topham that there isn’t a tune,
from ‘Auld Lang Syne’ to the newest one he’s hap-
pened to hear, that Bobby doesn’t hum or whistle
over his work. It’s time the rest of us had some of
the benefit of his musical talent.”
Bobby’s face was crimson, but his eyes shone with
pleasure at this mention of his one accomplishment.
“Tt’s the only thing I can do, excepting work,” he
said soberly, “ but I like singing first-rate—and I can
do it without taking away any of Mr. Topham’s time.”
“ That’s the reason he can’t play baseball or tennis,
or do any of those things,” whispered Donald French
to Felicia. “I think Bob’s a pretty fair kind of a boy,
don’t you?”
“T think he’s a splendid boy,” said Felicia. “ Listen,
Donald, father’s asking him to sing it alone, to show
how the tune goes. He can read the notes just as if
they were words in a book; his mother taught him
when he was a little boy, the year before she died,
and he’s never forgotten. He’s fourteen now, so you
can see what a good memory he must have, or else it’s
real genius like the musicians you read about—I think
perhaps it is,” added Felicia loyally.
When the first note sounded clear and sweet asa
bell, Miss Shaw half-turned in her seat, but Bobby,The First Rehearsal 117
full of eager joy in what he was doing, did not know
it, and sang on, gaining courage with every note.
“Why, Bobby,” she said, when the first verse was
ended, “why, Bobby ! where did you learn to sing like
that ?”
An agony of embarrassment overtook the boy with
her question, but Felicia came to his rescue.
“He couldn’t help it, Miss Shaw,” said the little girl
earnestly. “It just grew in him, the way Winifred’s
arithmetic grew in her—and—and the way father’s
preaching grew in him.”
“And the way cooking grew in you,” said Winifred
quickly. “Everybody has something, I guess.”
“Pd like to know what’s grown in me except my
bones,” said Nate gloomily.
“ Bones are very useful things, Nate,” said Mr. Lane,
putting his hand on the broad shoulder of the over-
grown boy. “It seems to me I heard somebody say
not long ago that if it hadn’t been for Nate Horner’s
long legs and arms a small friend of mine would have
had a harder time than he did, when he fell through
the ice last winter.”
“Yes, siree!” piped little Ted Hilliard, youngest of
the family. ‘He just swooped over and reached in
and grabbed me up!”
“°T wasn’t anything,” muttered Nate, but he looked
more cheerful in spite of his words.
“ Now let us all try the first verse,” said Mr. Lane,
and they began, with right good will.ae ay ee aaa te ee RE ee eee
- ee eee ere nee
118 Felicia’s Friends
Some of the voices were apt to wander from the
pitch a little, but the earnestness with which every
one of the carolers sang, holding his small red book,
his eyes first on the page and then on Mr. Lane beat-
ing time with a ruler, atoned for many faults. Wini-
fred and Felicia shared a book, which waved up and
down to mark the time.
“Please, Winifred, do hold it a little stiller,” begged
Felicia at the end of the second verse. “The lines
dance up and down so I can hardly see the words.”
“Dl try to,” said Winifred, “ but you know, Felicia,
when I do anything, mother says I do it all over, so
it’s pretty hard when I’m singing with my mouth not
to let my hands go, too.”
After each verse had been sung twice, Mr. Lane
chose another carol from the little red books, a quaint
old one withasimple tune—“ I saw three ships a-sail-
ing ;” that one he asked them to sing in unison, and the
clear young voices rang out sweetly in the plaintive tune.
“Oh, I love those words, don’t you, Winifred ?”
said Felicia, when Bobby Simpson had led the carol-
ers safely through the first verse. “They’re just like
pictures :
‘¢ ¢T saw three ships a-sailing,
A-sailing on the sea,
The first, her masts were silver,
Her hull was ivory.
The snows came drifting softly,
And lined her white as wool;
Oh, Jesus, Son of Mary,
Thy cradle beautiful.’ ’’The First Rehearsal 119
“Yes, they are like pictures,” Winifred answered
softly. “ Won’t it be lovely for people to hear them
Christmas Eve, when we sing them out in the road,
and everybody is sitting around the fire, listening for
us.”
“Yes, and then they’ll hear us coming along, sing-
ing, and they’ll open the door and say, ‘Come in!
Come in! and warm yourselves !’” said Felicia. “ And
then father will say, ‘Thank you most truly, sir (or
madam), but we must fare on; the night grows short.’
That is all out of an old book.”
““Recess is over,” called Mr. Lane, tapping with his
little baton, and the chatter ceased, though Nate
Horner’s last sentence to Miss Shaw lapped over into
the sudden hush.
“Tl like it, singing out in the dark,” Nate was say-
ing; “then I can kind of let myself go without remem-
bering what a big mouth I’ve got.”
Nobody could help laughing at Nate’s rueful face
when he realized that this confidential remark had
been heard by every one in the room; but Mr. Lane
quickly drew attention to himself.
“T feel the same way, Nate,” he said cordially,
“only it’s about my feet. Mrs. Lane has always
laughed about my toeing in, the minute I begin to
sing, and I know I do. We shall be perfectly com-
fortable, Christmas Eve, you and I.”
“Say, look here, Felicia,” said Nate who was awk-
wardly but gallantly jerking the little girl into hereee eee eetethgr StCa er e
ee
bioaple ie od it bo ben en RM dl ed
ee ee eee
NOt) >a tn eke oats os na
120 Felicia’s Friends
jacket when the rehearsal was over, “ did you know
youd got the kind of a father that makes a boy feel
good-natured, and as if he wasn’t the very clumsiest
ever made?”
“ Yes,” said Felicia—* it’s because he likes boys so
much. He thinks you have the making of a fine man
in you, Nate. Mrs. Cope told me he said so.”
“Pd like to have heard what she said,” and Nate
grinned at the thought, while Felicia’s lips twitched.
“She’s a lot pleasanter than she used to be, but I
heard her tell my mother one day last week, that ‘it
did seem most a pity for a boy to be so big he could
go into a room and tip over a footstool and a hanging
lamp at the same minute. That’s what I did when I
went there on an errand; but anyway her lamp
wasn’t strung up as high as usual, and her ceilings are
lower than some.”
“Yes, they are,” said Felicia comfortingly. “I’m
glad Mrs. Cope wasn’t here when father told about
toeing in,” she whispered. “ She’s a very good friend
of ours, but I don’t believe she’d think it was Just
right for a minister to toe in, when he was singing.
I’m going to ask father to bewery particular to stand
behind the pulpit when he sings, so his feet won't
show.”
“ She’d think anything your father does would be
all right,” said Nate. ‘“ Mother says she hasn’t heard
Mrs. Cope speak of old Dr. Jarvis for more than a
month.”The First Rehearsal 121
“The next rehearsal will be at Mrs. Cope’s house on
Saturday night at seven,’ Mr. Lane announced as the
carolers went out of the church, and he locked the
door.
“Yes, sir,” shouted the boys, and then they sepa-
rated, hurrying off to their respective homes. Every
one was humming, more or less correctly, some one of
the tunes. The words were to be committed to
memory as soon as possible.
“Listen,” said Mr. Lane when they had reached the
parsonage gate, and he and Miss Shaw and Felicia
stood for a moment.
Three or four boys’ voices were singing, on the
road to little Ben Kingman’s home. The night was
so still the words came clearly ; it was the last carol
they had practiced and so freshest in their minds :
‘ God rest you merry, gentlemen,
Let nothing you dismay.”’
“They’re singing that while Ben runs on ahead,
the Hilliard boys are,” said Felicia. ‘“They’re just
beyond the corner where their house 19:7
The song died away, and then there came the sound
of a faint “ Halloo!” answered by a shrill whistle.
“ That’s little Ted Hilliard answering Ben,” said
Felicia; “they’re great friends since Ben’s adventure
in the old Corey place—and anybody that little Ted
likes, the rest of the Hilliards take right into their
nearts, Mrs. Topham says.”ee nee eae ae “eg
122 Felicia’s Friends
“Listen again,” said Mr. Lane. “Bobby is just
starting from the Markhams’, down the hill with
Winifred. “ Hear his sleigh-bells, and they are both
singing.”
“* While shepherds watch’d their flocks by night,’ ”
sang Bobby, joyfully, his fresh, beautiful voice rising
above the sound of the sleigh-bells.
“That's a great gift—a voice like that—for a
young country lad,” said Mr. Lane. “A great gift.”
Felicia was listening with parted lips.
“Oh, yes,” she said, “it’s beautiful, father. But I
was listening to Winifred, too. She got the alto al-
most exactly right, father.”CHAPTER XIV
THE NEW PIANO
THE next day at recess all her pupils gathered
around Miss Shaw, asking questions about the Toy
Symphony, and the parts they were to play.
“There is only one instrument we cannot have,”
said Miss Shaw, “that is the violin. It adds a great
deal to the music, but as nobody here has ever heard
the Symphony before, the violin will not be missed.
And with Miss Markham to play the piano—(for Pm
sure she’d enjoy it) and all the trumpets and clappers
and horns and bells and other things, we shall make
plenty of sound at any rate.”
“There’s a little girl, not much older than I am,
who’s playing the violin at concerts in the city,” said
Felicia eagerly. ‘“Father’s read about her in the
paper. Maybe she’d like to come and play with us if
she knew about it—just for fun. She’s Italian.”
“Tm afraid not, dear,” said Miss Shaw, smiling at
Felicia. “A little girl like Carina Lotti, of whom you
speak, earns a great deal of money when she plays,
and her manager would not allow her to come up
into the country to play for nothing but fun.”
“Oh,” said Felicia blankly, “I didn’t know it was
123124 Felicia’s Friends
like that. Don’t you suppose she ever plays just for
in 27
“Not often,” and Miss Shaw shook her head.
“She is a hard-working little professional, from what I
hear of her.”
“Oh,” said Felicia again. “I wonder what she'll do
Christmas, poor little thing. Her picture in the paper
looked beautiful, though, and she had a long, long
necklace on, over a real party dress. Where do you
suppose her father and mother are?”
“Her father died, and her mother has married
again, I read,” said Miss Shaw. “Her manager is
some distant relative, I believe.”
When recess was over, and lessons had begun again,
Felicia’s mind was still on the little girl who played
the violin so wonderfully. When Miss Shaw asked
her, in the geography lesson, to name the capital of
France, Felicia said dreamily, “Carina Lotti.”
“You must not let the Toy Symphony interfere with
lessons, any of you,” said Miss Shaw when the school
had stopped laughing at Felicia’s answer, “or the
school committee will find fault with me.”
“Pd like to see them!” shouted N ate, regardless of
discipline, and all the others applauded his sentiment,
after which quiet was restored and the lessons of the
day went on.
Just before it was time for school to close, Bobby
Simpson came to the door, and delivered a yellow slip
into Miss Shaw’s hands. Every one knew what thatThe New Piano 125
meant—it was the freight agent’s notification that the
piano had arrived. Bobby nodded gravely to his
friends as Miss Shaw read the notice.
“Mr. Topham’s at the parsonage,” said Bobby,
“and he told me to tell you if you could come down
to the station when school’s out, and bring some of
the boys, we could all help hoist that piano on to our
wagon, and get it into Mrs. Cope’s parlor, if you’d
superintend.”
Miss Shaw looked at the little watch she wore on
her wrist in a leather band.
“ School will close in ten minutes,” she said. “ Will
you please tell Mr. Topham I’ll go directly to the station,
and thank him very much. Thank you, too, Bobby.”
“ You’re welcome as can be,” said Bobby. “I wish
I was sitting at one o’ those desks,” he said, his clear
eyes resting on Ned Hilliard’s round face with a wist-
ful expression.
“T wish you were, too,” said Miss Shaw. “ But
you’ll make up for lost time when you begin, I’m sure.”
“Tl try,” said Bobby, as he turned away.
“T think we will have some mental arithmetic for
the last few minutes, so you may close your desks and
give attention,” said Miss Shaw, who could see plainly
that there was little use in expecting her pupils to
study with excitement so close at hand. ‘“ Four, mul-
tiply by nine, divide by six, add two, multiply by
three, subtract three, divide by seven, add two, multi
ply by four, divide by five~ what is the answer ?”Se ene ae ees oy reer eee eee
Sarre
Sod ooh oO
Peretti nee
126 Felicia’s Friends
“Four,” called half a dozen voices, Winifred’s loudest
ofall. This was an exercise in which even the youngest
pupil could join, when Miss Shaw spoke slowly ; to-
day she had been too brisk for the younger mathema-
ticlans as well as Felicia, who was way back at “di-
vide by six” when the request for an answer came.
“T’ll be a little slower this time,” said Miss Shaw
and in consequence she had a more general response,
although Felicia, with very pink cheeks, was again left
behind.
“Never you mind, Felicia,” said Winifred when, the
mental gymnastics over, school was dismissed ; “you
just think of those rye drop cakes you made this morn-
ing and let me taste for luncheon. They’re better
than any arithmetic that was ever written ! ”
“Tt’s lovely of you to say so,” Felicia told her.
“Some way, when anybody says ‘four multiply by
three,’ or even ‘five add six,’ it’s just as if ’'d never
heard of such a thing in all my life before! ”
It was a merry procession that hurried down the
main road of Blackberry Hill and around the corner
to the station; not an orderly procession, for the
smaller children ran and danced ahead of Miss Shaw
and her body-guard, Nate Horner, Donald French and
Ned Hilliard. Ben Kingman, with two of the little
Hilliards, was not to be kept back, even by the thought
that he might have a scolding when he reached home.
“For I’ve never seen a real piano,” said Ben, “ ’cause
[’ve never been in Mrs. Markham’s house.”iV aac
Jo SePrHine BRUCE
EI (CANN
MIT, INSUF, JPLINO”
reapers WY es eoSeeaee Seer Ey eee ree wre ron
iH
iH
5
i
7
b
2
5
H
i!
if
i
f
ee eee
tr
re acre eee
ee:
aThe New Piano 127
“ Don’t you fret, young man,” said Mr. Fosdick, who
had joined the procession in a casual way, “ I’ve got
to take a walk along the road when this business is
concluded, to kind of calm my nerves, and I'll step
down with you and pay my respects to your aunt.”
Miss Shaw flashed a smile at him over her shoulder ;
it was well understood by this time that Mr. Fosdick
had constituted himself guardian of little Ben, who was
having a much easier and pleasanter life in consequence.
When they reached the station Mrs. Harlow stepped
out from her door with a word of greeting.
“There’s quite a company gathered here already,”
she said gaily. “I’ve done more visiting in the last
half-hour than any time before in a year. See, there’s
the box out at the end of the platform. Quite a sight,
I call it.”
The tall, long box was almost hidden by the people
who pressed about it, examining the boards, and gaz-
ing at the great black letters, painted on its side.
“Now we'll back up close as we can, Miss Shaw,”
said Mr. Topham, “and let down the tail-board and
then all hoist together. Let’s see, how many of usare
there, that can lift on it? Ten. Well, we ought to
be able to manage that without much trouble.” —
“T can see the piano through a crack,” whispered
Ben to Felicia. “See, it’s black and shiny. Look,
Winifred.”
The little girls applied their eyes to the crack, and
nodded solemnly.Cee ne week wnt AR ae
pete ig) ree eee ea
Par nere ene
Preece ree
ot ohms deme pe pepe yrqrepete t= tiger ees pyre
ee et
128 Felicia’s Friends
“Black and shiny,” Winifred repeated. “ Mother,
may I go back up to Mrs. Cope’s and see them unpack
it?”
“No, you mayn’t,” said Mrs. Harlow cheerfully.
“Poor Mrs. Cope won’t want a dozen or so children
tracking into her house to-day; you can wait till to-
morrow night. Watch now, and see them lift it.”
There was a “ One—two—three—steady now!” from
Mr. Topham, and almost as if it had been a feather-
weight, the big case was lifted from the platform and
slid carefully into the Topham wagon, while three
small boys stood at the head of the sober old horse,
who scarcely moved his ears as the box was set in place.
“Now we'll drive slow,” said Mr. Topham, “and
those that are prepared to help lift it out will have
plenty of time to walk up the hill to Mrs. Cope’s.”
“Qh, dear, you’ll see it all before I do, Felicia,” said
Winifred regretfully. “I suppose you'll probably go
in to-night and hear Miss Shaw play.”
Felicia hesitated; she had thought of this possibil-
ity herself, but the sight of Winifred’s disappointment
changed her mind.
“No, I won’t,” she said quickly. ‘ll wait for you,
Winifred, so we'll see it together the first time, to-
morrow night; truly I will, because you’re my inti-
mate friend, and I’d rather.”
So it happened that when Felicia, walking up the
hill with Miss Shaw, reached the parsonage gate, she
stopped.The New Piano 129
“Come right over with me, Felicia,” said Miss Shaw.
“You know Mrs. Cope never minds you. What, don’t
you want to see the piano come out of its case ?”
Felicia shook her head, though her eyes were wist-
ful.
“Pd rather wait till to-morrow night, so Winifred
and I can see it together,” she said, flushing under
Miss Shaw’s puzzled gaze. “You see—you see, it’s a
great thing for Winifred, Miss Shaw.”
“I understand,” and the young teacher took Felicia’s
chin in her hand and kissed the eager little face. “It
will be all the better to-morrow night. You and
Winifred might come a few minutes earlier than the
others, if you like.”
“Oh, we will!” cried Felicia. “Good-bye, Miss
Shaw, and thank you ever and ever so much!”Fe ae ah kanes F
. re I
CHAPTER XV
STRANGERS AT BLACKBERRY HILL
Amone the people who had been at Blackberry
Fill station there were several who stayed for a little
visit with Mrs. Harlow after the piano had been car-
ried off; one of them was Mrs. Topham.
“T knew this enterprise would take some time,” she
said to her hostess when every one else had departed,
“and as I said to James Topham, ‘I will have a nice
talk with Mrs. Harlow, such as I haven’t enjoyed for a
good long while.’ ”’
“Tm pleased enough to have you here,” said Mrs.
Harlow cordially. ‘ We'll make ourselves comfortable
and have a real good visit, soon as the down train has
gone by. I’ve a package to give Mr. Wadleigh, and
there’s a little express I promised the agent Id see to;
he accommodates me, and I try to do the same by him.
There’s the whistle now. You stir up the fire a bit
whilst I’m gone, if it needs it.”
Mrs. Topham gave a hurried glance at the fire, and
then stepped to the window. Her life on the farm
was so quiet that the station seemed a most exciting
place to her.
“ There’s Mr. Wadleigh getting off,” she said to her-
self, pressing close to the window, “and—why, my
130Strangers at Blackberry Hill 121
stars! he’s carrying a woman—looks as if she’d fainted!
and there’s a man, too, looks scared to death! Mis’
Harlow’s going to bring ’em in here, I do believe.
Yes. Here, let me get out my ammonia bottle, and
fix the couch.”
With quick, capable hands she arranged the pillows
on the old couch, and unfolded the afghan which lay
across the foot; when the little group entered the
room, it was she who put the poor fainting traveler in
the best position, for Mrs. Topham was a born nurse.
“You hold this to her nose,” she said quietly, hand-
ing Winifred the little bottle of aromatic ammonia
she had drawn from the belt bag in which she always
carried it; “there, I’ve loosened her clothes a mite,
and she isn’t going to faint quite away. Don’t you
try to say a thing,” she told the woman in a soothing
tone; “ you’re among friends and it’s all right. See,
there’s your husband close byee
The black eyes stared up from the white face, to
which a hint of color had come back ; the woman’s
lips murmured something, but Mrs. Topham could not
understand it.
“She no spik Eenglish,” said the man, looking anx-
lously at Mrs. Topham. “TI no spik her ver’ good.”
“Well, never you mind,” said Mrs. Topham, smiling
at him with that friendliness which always won in-
stant trust. “Folks don’t need much language when
they’re sick and faint.”
“Good,” said the man gratefully ; “ you ver’ good.”oh arnt be ber pe mes nme — rn
etter tt od cal nae fF Selena eee ere
eer eee erer erent
132 Felicia’s Friends
“No such a thing,” said Mrs. Topham. « Just
what anybody would do. You sit down over in that
chair, and get your breath; you don’t need to be
scared any more; she’s coming around all right, and
here’s Mis’ Harlow back, to tell you you’re welcome.”
The man, who had a small, thin face with a shock
of dark hair and bright blue eyes, evidently did not
understand all that was said to him, but he took the
chair Mrs. Topham indicated, and looked anxiously
at Mrs. Harlow who had just come back from a hur-
vied talk with Mr. Wadleigh before the train started
on.
“Fe says he doesn’t know who they are,” she said
in a low tone to Mrs. Topham. “Says they got on
the train up at Craytonville ; a man landed ’em from
his sleigh ; said he’d picked ’em up walking from some-
where, he couldn’t make out where; the man didn’t
know who they were, but he gathered they lived on a
farm—one o’ those abandoned places the foreigners
have bought—and somebody’d sent ’em tickets to go
to the city to see or hear something—he couldn’t make
out what, and their horse had got sick, so they'd left
him with a neighbor, and walked. And Mr. Wad-
leigh said they looked about perished when they got
in the car; and as they warmed up, the poor woman
got whiter and whiter—and then he saw she was faint-
ing away. So he told the man he’d give ’em a stop-
over, and he fetched ’em right out to me. Seemed to
be the only thing to do.”Strangers at Blackberry Hill 133
The man who had put a worn bag down on the floor
beside him, sat twirling his soft hat; in his eyes there
was such a look of entreaty that Mrs. Topham left her
patient for a moment and stepped close to him.
“Now don’t you worry one mite,” she said, taking
one of the thin, work-hardened hands and shaking it
heartily. “My man, Mr. James Topham, is coming
back soon, and we'll take you right along home with
us and rest you up for to-day, and you can start on
to-morrow. Won’t that be all right for you? See—
you stay—with—husband and me—to-night—in warm
house—good things to eat—start to-morrow,” she
said slowly, emphasizing each word. “Now you tell
me if you understand.”
“We thank,” said the man brokenly, when after
many repetitions and much gesturing he understood.
“You ver’ good—ver’ mooch kind.”
He went close to his wife and talked rapidly for
some time, she occasionally asking a question in a soft,
tired voice. At last she turned her big, liquid eyes,
full of gratitude, to Mrs. Topham, and tried to sit
up ; but with the exertion, her faint color fled again,
and Winifred hastily pressed the little bottle close to
her nose.
“You lie right back,” commanded the two women,
and Mrs. Topham added the force of a kindly
hand. “It?ll be half an hour before we start,” she
said.
“But Carina!” cried the man suddenly, and at that134 Felicia’s Friends
the woman sat up, and poured forth a flood of excited
words of which none of the listeners save her husband
could understand one.
Winifred, however, had caught the name spoken by
the man.
“He said ‘Carina, ” she whispered to her mother.
«“ That’s the name of the girl that plays the violin ; the
little girl who isn’t much older than Felicia and I, the
one Felicia wished would come and play with us in the
Toy Symphony. Her name’s Carina Lotti.”
The last of the breathless words had reached the
ears of both the strangers. The woman looked eagerly
at Winifred, and the man turned to her, his face alight
with joy.
“ Mais, you know Carina?” he questioned. “This her
mother,” he pointed to the woman on the old couch ;
“she make marriage with me; we come meet in
Can’da; she Italy, I French. Carina with one oncle ;
she send—we go hear play in concert. Now she
scare, we do not come; she scare ver’ mooch; you
telegraph ?”’ he clutched Winifred’s hand.
Here was excitement truly! Winifred endeavored
to answer in his own style, thinking it would be more
clear to him.
“Never see Carina,” she said, “but mother tele-
graph. You got address give me? Ad-dress! ad-
dress—place where she live? Where you write ? ”
“ Oui, oui,” stammered the man, and from his pocket
he drew a much-worn pocketbook, from one compart-strangers at Blackberry Hill 135
ment of which he took out a slip of paper and handed
it to Winifred.
“Care Sig-sig-sig-naw G-a-l-a-t-i,) however you
pronounce that,” said Winifred. ‘‘ Music Hall Build-
ing ’—that must be her uncle.”
“Oncle, oui,” said the man.
“But maybe she wouldn’t be there, or her uncle
either,” said Mrs. Harlow. “If she was expecting
them she might be on her way to the station by this
time. What are we going todo? Of course there’s
the telephone up at the post-office that could be used, I
Suppose, though nobody ever has talked so far, since
‘twas put in. Seems kinds of uncanny to me.”
“Oh, mother,” cried Winifred, “let me go! let me
go to the parsonage and get Mr. Lane. He’s tele-
phoned ’most over the world, I think; at any rate,
way, way off! And if he couldn’t think just what to
say, Felicia and I could help him.”
“ll warrant you could,” said Mrs. Harlow, “or at
least you’d think you could. What do you say, Mrs.
Topham ?”
“Tt really seems as if ’twould be the quickest way,”
said Mrs. Topham, and almost before the words were
off her tongue, Winifred had flung on coat and hat
and was away, still clasping the slip of paper, and her
mother and Mrs. Topham were left to explain, as well
as they could, the state of affairs to the bewildered
foreigners.
In less than ten minutes Winifred, panting, dashedaha sete oeksdenehtbenbieabeciranemebsiincadenehettinntahnine keg eRe EOT TET 5
ere
136 Felicia’s Friends
in at the kitchen door of the parsonage without even a
preliminary knock. Felicia was making biscuit for
supper, with Martin on the shelf close at hand.
“Oh, hasn’t your father come back from Mrs.
Cope’s ?” gasped Winifred. “Isn’t that piano in yet?
and there they are, poor things, just about distracted,
and he’s the only one who can do it.”
“Winifred!” and Felicia laid a floury hand on her
friend’s arm. ‘What is the matter? Please tell me,
quick !”
With many gasps Winifred told her, and just as she
finished the door opened and in came the minister.
“ The piano is in place, and it is a beautiful little in
strument,” he said, before he noticed the guest—then,
“Why, Winifred, what’s the trouble ?” he asked
quickly, and together the two children told the story.
“ We'll go at once,” said Mr. Lane. “ Yes, you too,
Felicia,” he added at the sight of the wistful face.
“ Of course you must come and hear the first long-dis-
tance telephone from Blackberry Hill. We may have
to wait some time, but it’s no matter for once.”
“On a real occasion like this, father,” said Felicia,
as they hurried up the hill, one small hand in each of
the minister’s, and a small hopping figure on each side
of the tall one, “on an occasion like this, it’s no mat-
ter whether we have supper at real Blackberry Hill
time, or not. Mrs. Cope, even, would say so, [know !”
But Martin, to whom his special admirer Winifred
had, in her excitement, forgotten even to proffer aStrangers at Blackberry Hill 137
friendly finger, sat sulkily in the darkened kitchen,
and expressed his mind at intervals to the stove and
other dimly discerned objects.
“What’s all this?” he grumbled. “ Pretty doings!
What’s all this ?”RE ee tere ere ee ene cae nl , ae
CHAPTER XVI
MRS. TOPHAM’S GUESTS
“Iv beat all, the way they got that message through,
didn’t it?” Mr. Fosdick asked Mr. Gregg the next
morning as they were having a friendly talk over vil-
lage affairs. Mr. Gregg still kept what Mrs. Topham
called “his lonely ways,” but he was seen in the village
more frequently as time went on, and to quote Mrs.
Topham again, “his hand was always ready to go to
his pocket ” in case of need.
“JT wish I had been here,” said the old man, who
had been listening to a spirited account of the sending
of the telephone message from Mr. Fosdick. “ Did
you say they all three talked at once?”
“ Well, I don’t know as all three voices got into the
instrument, really,” said the storekeeper, “ but from a
remark that came out so loud from the other end that
all present heard it, I judged the sig-i-naw, whatever
his name was, felt there was more being said than he
could gather in at once. He spoke out pretty ha’sh;
I shouldn’t want to say he used profane language, for
Pm not what you'd call familiar with furrin tongues,
but he was real tried—you could tell that with half an
ear. “T'was when Winifred Harlow began that he
broke loose from his moorin’s; Felicia ’d been mostly
138Mrs. Topham’ s Guests 133
whispering in her father’s ear, and he saying ‘ What ?’
but Winifred spoke right out in meeting, same as
usu’l.”
“What did they make out, finally?” asked a by-
stander who had missed the excitement.
“They made out that twas last night the little girl
was going to play,” said Mr. Fosdick, and the sig-i-naw
thought, long as they couldn’t get there to hear her,
they’d better stay a day or two and make sure of the
mother being fit to travel, and go sightseeing and so
on when she arrived. Seems he spoke pretty large
about paying board for ’em, but I guess when he gets
James Topham and wife to take board-money for
those two folks he’ll have had more’n one birthday.
He doesn’t know Blackberry Hill, living in the city
where it’s all pay or get nothing. Besides, Bobby
Simpson’s been in here this morning, and seems
they’ve got a plan all cooked up for keeping those
two right with ’em all winter and maybe longer.”
“Indeed,” said Mr. Gregg; “that sounds just like
the Tophams.”
“So it does,” and Mr. Fosdick nodded briskly as he
tied up packages with his long, deft fingers. “ Well,
it’s like this. The man’s handy as he can be, Bobby
says; set to and tinkered up the old clock last night,
and got her to ticking even, which she hasn’t for I
don’t know how long; and he has ideas about a good
many things in the way o’ farm work, Bobby says—
real sensible ones. And his own farm that he’s hired140 Felicia’s Friends
is a poor place, and a cousin o’ his would take it on
with his own, that lies next to it.”
“They were able to understand each other, then,”
said Mr. Gregg. ‘I’m rather surprised at that.”
“ Well, ’twa’n’t as easy as it sounds, I guess,” said
Mr. Fosdick, chuckling. ‘ Bobby says they worked
their hands and eyes about as hard as their tongues,
and got pretty well het up and wore out, but last off
they come to an understanding. And that Eyetalian
woman, the man’s wife—(I haven’t got the hang of
his name yet—it’s something like Demushy, but that’s
not precisely what ’tis) why Bobby says that when she
saw Mrs. Topham cooking the rice for supper, which
they always have hearty, she kind of swooped down
on the pot ’twas cooking in, and stirred it round and
poured off an’ poured on, talking some sort of lingo
and smiling real pleasant at Mrs. Topham, and they
do say it eat tasty beyond any rice they ever put in
their mouths.”
‘They say some o’ those furriners have a real gift
with food,” said a bystander.
“She has, at any rate,” said Mr. Fosdick. “ Bobby
said she begged leave—with her eyes and hands—to
cook a dish of sliced bacon and potato with a dash
of onion this morning, and—well, he allowed it went
ahead of anything he’d ever tasted. And he says she
and Mrs. Topham have taken a real shine to each
other; and Mrs. Topham’s planning to have her give
Felicia a few lessons in these dishes 0’ hers ; you knowMrs. Topham’s Guests 141
Felicia ketches right on to anything o’ the kind, they
say, just give her half a hint.”
“Well, well, the population of Blackberry Hill
seems to be growing steadily,” said Mr. Gregg as he
took the basket which the storekeeper had filled with
neat packages, the old man’s supply for the next few
days. “And there’s a new piano in town, too, I
hear.”
“ Why, yes, that was what filled all our minds till
these strangers came,” said Mr. Fosdick. “ First
rehearsal with the new instrument at Lydia Cope’s
this evening, with Ellen Markham to play it if able,
if not Miss Shaw officiates. I’m not really in the
secret of what this grand entertainment is to be, two
nights running, but I know there have been two tin
horns and a trumpet and a drum taken off my hands,
that I expected to have with me long as I lived.
There’s more musical talent in this village than ever |
suspected. I’m going to hang around Lydia Cope’s
premises to-night, and I don’t calculate to have the
party all to myself, either.”
“These are certainly stirring times for Blackberry
Hill,” said Mr. Gregg as he started off.
“He seems considerable more like folks than he
used to,” said the next customer, but Mr. Fosdick
looked at him coolly.
“Youre kind of new to the place,” said the store-
keeper ; “you haven’t been here but ten years, and you
don’t know about the troubles he had that drove himpeerePeett eer rst otro ee ee oe eee Sener =
142 Felicia’s Friends
to that way of living, off by himself. But since Mr
Lane and Felicia were settled over the church he’s
chirked up a good deal. Ever since she went to see
him and took a posy, Felicia did, he’s had a warm
spot for her, and she goes there every now and then
and keeps him posted with what’s going on.”
“YT understand he lends books to Bobby Simpson
and others,” said the man.
“Certainly he does, and good ones. He has a fine
library,” asserted Mr. Fosdick. “Folks say they
wish’t he’d deed it to the town. Well now, Felicia,
how are you this morning? Low on peanuts? I’ve
got a new batch all ready to be eaten soon as I can
find customers.”
“T’ve come for a cake of chocolate and to invite
you to supper, Mr. Fosdick,” said Felicia when she
had shaken hands warmly, over the counter. “ And
father and Mrs. Cope and Miss Shaw all want you to
attend the rehearsal to-night.”
“Look here,” said Mr. Fosdick solemnly, “ haven’t
you got me mixed up with somebody else? Did you
ever hear me sing ?”
Felicia pe aaat with Aaeed lips and dancing eyes.
“Then what in the world does it all mean?” asked
the storekeeper.
“Tt isn’t for the carol part,” said Felicia, “it’s for
something else that Mrs. Cope has told us you can do
better than anybody else she ever heard.”
“ Now, I'll wager they’ve got a plan to make meMrs. Topham’ s Guests 143
work the clappers,” said Mr. Fosdick, and again
Felicia nodded. “ Well, now, maybe I’ve lost the
knack,” and he looked at his fingers with suspicion
and worked them back and forth while Felicia langhed
delightedly ; “no, I guess I haven’t, after all. Dm in
the hands of those that are getting up this show,
whatever ’tis. How much chocolate did you say ?”
Saturday nights Miss Loreena Parks always went
early to her own little house, to set it in order for
Sunday, and Felicia was sole mistress of the parson-
age kitchen, and always planned with her father to
have some guest for the supper of baked beans and
brown bread. Often it was Mr. Fosdick, whose meals
at his own rooms over the store were not what Felicia
considered inviting.
“T see what that chocolate was used for,” said the
guest that evening when his little hostess brought to
the table a plate heaped with frosted cake. “ You are
a born cook, no mistake about it.”
“Thank you,” and Felicia showed her dimples.
“ You know I love to cook. And oh, Mr. Fosdick, the
lady over at the Tophams’, that they hope maybe will
stay, is a wonderful cook, Bobby Simpson told us this
morning.”
“So he told me, too,” said Mr. Fosdick. “That
bacon and potato seems to have gone to Bobby’s
head some way. Well, she’d be good company for
Mrs. Topham when they get snowed in, if they’ve got
so they can understand each other already without144 Felicia’s Friends
speaking a word both of ’em know, as it appears they
have. But if that little girl’s earning so much money,
how’s it happen her folks don’t get some of the benefit ?”
“Oh, Bobby said the man, her stepfather, tried to
explain about that, this morning,” said Felicia. ‘“ The
little girl plays beautifully now, but she must go
abroad and study and practice; study and practice
with some wonderful teacher, and it will cost a great
deal. Then, she will come back to this country again,
and her mother can have carriages and wear gold
dresses if she likes, the man said. Oh, I’d like to see
that little girl, and hear her play !”’
“Well, perhaps,” Mr. Fosdick began, and then he
thought better of it and changed his sentence. “ There
was a telegram for those Demushy folks this after-
noon,” he said. ‘Jed mentioned it when I was in the
post-office—said he sent it over to the farm by a boy ;
of course I didn’t inquire what the message was—the
secrecy of these official matters has to be kept strict,
according to law.”
“Yees,” said Felicia, bubbling over with laughter ;
“but sometimes ——”
“ Now, that’s enough, isn't it, Mr. Lane?” said the
storekeeper, hastily. ‘ You let me have another piece
of that cake, and wait till Bobby comes to the re-
hearsal to-night for your news.
“Mr. Gregg was up this morning,” said Mr. Fosdick
in a low tone to his host, while Felicia sang over the
washing and putting away of her dishes, with an occa-Mrs. Topham’s Guests 14g
sional word to Martin. “He says that little matter
will be attended to, sure, by the day before Christmas.
You don’t think Felicia’s got wind of it, anyhow ?
Though I don’t see how she could, with nobody but
us three and Miss Shaw knowing it.”
“She hasn’t the faintest suspicion,” said Mr. Lane.
“TI really don’t know what she will say or do; the
child will be so completely taken by surprise, and so
delighted.”
“ She’ll say and do what’ll please the old gentleman,
Pll warrant,” said Mr. Fosdick, loyal as ever to his
little friend. “S-sh! Now what is your opinion, Mr.
Lane, of the—the market-price of eggs, speaking of
prices ? ”
“The market-price of eggs?” echoed Mr. Lane, as
Felicia came into the study and seated herself on the
arm of his chair.
“That’s what I said,” and Mr. Fosdick gazed at
him severely. “I don’t hold that because a man has
the gift of preaching he ought to fall behind the times
other ways. Didn’t you know they were the highest
on record, or thereabouts? What are you laughing
at, Felicia ? ”
The little girl rocked back and forth on the arm of
her father’s chair, and her eyes gleamed with mischief.
“You weren’t talking about the price of eggs to
poor dear father a minute ago,” she said demurely.
“You mustn’t say ‘S-s-sh’ so loud unless you want
Martin to say it over after you.”146 Felicia’s Friends
“ What hour does that rehearsal begin, young lady ?”
asked Mr. Fosdick hastily. “1 think myself it’s high
time we started. Isn’t that Winifred Harlow’s voice
I hear addressing that bird of yours? Where’d you
put my overshoes ?”CHAPTER XVII
THE TOY SYMPHONY
Mr. Lane, Mr. Fosdick and the two little girls
were first of all to arrive at Mrs. Cope’s, and they
were ushered into the parlor by the hostess and Miss
Shaw, with a good deal of ceremony. There was a
bright fire in the little grate, which Mrs. Cope had
polished until its nickel trimmings shone like silver,
and her best and second-best lamps were glowing on
the tables, while a third, ready to light, stood on a
bracket-shelf near the piano.
‘I want you to notice the way the light shines on
that wood, and makes it appear like a looking-glass,
almost,” said Mrs. Cope with the air of a showman,
when the beautiful little piano, a “baby grand,” had
been admired in breathless silence for a moment, save
for one long “Oh!” from Felicia.
“Isn’t it a darling ?” the little girl said softly, and
although she had a tight hold on Winifred’s hand, her
eyes turned to her father for sympathy.
“Tt is indeed,” said Mr. Lane, “and it makes your
room prettier than ever,” he added, turning to Mrs.
Cope with a smile.
“That’s what I mentioned to Miss Shaw, first thing
147148 Felicia’s Friends
this morning,” said Mrs. Cope; “not in just those
words; but I said to her that it seemed to set off
everything else; I don’t think that spindle-legged
table ever looked so well before, and you notice how
it seems to bring out the colors of that oil-painting
that hangs over it? I call it a real addition to the
furniture. And as for sound! Could you perform
that short piece you played whilst I was putting sup-
per on the table ?” she asked Miss Shaw.
The young teacher seated herself on the stool which
had come with the piano, and ran her fingers over the
shining keys.
“ Could I ever learn to do that ?” demanded Wini-
fred, edging closer to the keyboard. “My! that must
be fun! Just like playing tag with your hands.”
“ Youd better listen than talk,” said Mrs. Cope with
a touch of reproof in her voice which made Winifred
look rebellious for a moment, but as soon as Miss Shaw
began really to play, her grievance was forgotten in
admiration and delight.
“You were right, Mrs. Cope,” she announced when
the last note of the gay little tripping “ Gigue” had
been struck. “It is better to listen than talk.”
“You'll generally find folks that are your elders
have learned a few things,” said Mrs. Cope, and then
she relented, giving Winifred’s hair bow a slight
twitch into better position and letting her hand linger
for a moment on the little girl’s shoulder.
“ Yes’m,” said Winifred, laughing up at her, andThe Toy Symphony 149
they were friends again with no resentment on either
side.
Miss Shaw played another piece, a lovely, rippling
melody, and just as she finished it there came a loud
rap from the big knocker and the sound of voices.
“You take off your overshoes here in the hall,”
commanded Mrs. Cope as she welcomed the guests,
“and put ’em in arow on that strip of oilcloth I’ve
laid alongside of the wall; it washes off easy and I’m
going to have it there every rehearsal night. Soon as
you’ve done that and put your things on the lounge or
one of the chairs, step right across into the parlor.
Here, Nate Horner, you hang your coat and hat on
this nail, or there won’t be room for anything else;
and look out you don’t take a piece off the top o’ your
head going into the parlor. Well, there, I’m glad to
see you, one and all.”
“Did you see Bobby, Mrs. Cope?” asked Ned Hil-
liard, drawing his friend into view. “ He’s going to
spend the night with me; the Tophams can spare him
once in a while now that Frenchman is there; Mr.
Topham told Bobby to come right along.”
‘‘T’m pleased to see you,” and Mrs. Cope held out
her hand, a little stiffly to be sure, but with the will to
be cordial, and Bobby shook it conscientiously.
When the piano had been fully examined and ad-
mired and Miss Shaw had played once more, the little
red books were opened and the rehearsal began. After
all, Miss Markham had decided to “favor her cold”150 Felicia’s Friends
for a day or two longer, so Miss Shaw kept her seat at
the piano. The young people were grouped around it,
Mr. Lane in their midst, while Mrs. Cope and Mr. Fos-
dick sat on the old sofa, and acted as audience.
“They sing real well, | must say,” Mrs. Cope re-
marked to her neighbor when the second carol was in
progress and she could speak under cover of the music.
“For a boy that’s come up from nothing, as you might
say, Bobby Simpson appears to have quite a gift.”
Mr. Fosdick looked at her with a whimsical smile on
his shrewd face.
“T reckon we all come from nothing if you search
hist’ry far enough back,” he said, “and mostly we all
have our chance to show what stuff the Lord’s put in
us. I never feel sure but what He says to Himself
now an’ again, ‘There’s a man and woman that don’t
seem to be of much account. I'll give them such a
good child that folks will know there was something
fine in them, after all, if it hadn’t got switched off on
the wrong track.’ But of course that’s only my idea.”
“There may be something in that,” admitted his
hostess with heightened color, “ though I don’t recaud
ever hearing it spoken of in the pulpit.”
“Old Dr. Jarvis never said it,” and Mr. Fosdick
smiled at her genially, “but maybe he would now, if
he could come back and givea few talks. There, that’s
a prime tune they’re singing—let’s listen.”
When the carols had all been practiced and pro-
nounced “much better than last time,” by Mr. Lane,The Toy Symphony 151
the little red books were piled on the piano, and a big
box was brought in from the hall by Nate Horner, at
Miss Shaw’s request.
“Youd better all take seats now,” said Mrs. Cope
hospitably. “I think there’s enough for the whole
company, and one or two to spare. Mr. Lane, I un-
derstand you don’t take part in this entertainment.
May I have a few words with you on the sofa whilst
these young folks, including Mr. Fosdick, get their in-
struments in order ?”’
The boys crowded close to Miss Shaw as she opened
the box which had been set on a high stool, and dis-
played its contents. There were several horns and
trumpets, two drums, a long wooden whistle and a
short metal one; a big watchman’s rattle; bells of
glass, and a long string of sleigh-bells; a triangle;
two small boxes with metal strips marked with the let-
ters of the scale, to be struck with alittle padded ham-
mer; there was a cuckoo, a round music-box which
played a tiny tune, and last of all, a pair of clappers.
‘“‘H’m,” said Mr. Fosdick, as these last were handed
to him, “ those are all well enough, I dare say, but if
you’ve no objection I guess Il] hold to my old friends ;”
and drawing a pair of “bones” polished by age and
use from his pocket, Mr. Fosdick placed them in posi-
tion and gave a brief illustration of his skill, which
brought a round of applause from his audience.
Mr. Fosdick pushed his spectacles well down on his
nose and looked over them, as he loved to do.152 Felicia’s Friends
“Pretty spry for my age?” he inquired, and then
pushed his spectacles back in place.
“Mrs. Cope, how do you think it would be if we
stepped across into the kitchen ? ” suggested Mr.
Lane, who thought his hostess had begun to look as if
she did not fully enjoy the noise. “There are one or
two matters I should like to talk over with you, and
why shouldn’t you and I have a surprise the night of
the concert as well as the other guests ?”
“Why, I don’t know but ’twould be a good plan,”
and Mrs. Cope looked much relieved. “ Miss Shaw
can play lady of the house all right. Truth is,” she
said as the kitchen door closed behind her and the
minister, “I felt my head beginning to give way, for
I’m not used to so much hullabaloo. You understand
I don’t mean Felicia,” she added quickly, mindful of
the dignity of her guest.
Mr. Lane laughed and shook his head.
“Pm afraid Felicia can’t be excepted this time,” he
said. ‘She whispered to me as I left the room that
she did hope a trumpet might fall to her lot, for she
‘loved to blow.’ ”
Felicia did not have a trumpet, however, but one of
the small boxes with the metal keys and the padded
hammer, while the other was assigned to Winifred.
They required more skill and practice than most of the
other instruments and Miss Shaw knew she would
have more opportunities to drill the two little girls
than the boys.The Toy Symphony 153
Nate Horner at his earnest request was given the
string of sleigh-bells.
“T guess I could stop shaking easier than I could
stop blowing,” he said when the use of the different toys
had been explained ; “and if I kept on a minute too
long or began a minute too soon, ’twouldn’t be so bad
as if I got to going with all my breath on one of those
horns.”
Miss Shaw laughed, and granted his request, for
there were plenty of applicants for the horns and
trumpets; they were most popular. Bobby Simpson
and Ned Hilliard were given drums, and the two
whistles were gladly accepted by little Ted and his
friend Ben Kingman, while Donald French joyfully
seized and swung the watchman’s rattle. When all
the instruments had been assigned, Miss Shaw first
laughingly clapped her hands over her ears and then
rapped for order.
“Dear me, what a din that was!” she said to Mr.
Fosdick over the heads of some of the players as she
opened the score of the Toy Symphony and laid it on
the piano.
“Twas considerable of a racket,” admitted the store-
keeper, “but we aren’t any of us young but once, and
some of us hardly get round to it then; ” he lifted his
eyebrows and glanced toward Ben who was clasping
his whistle with both hands as if it were a rare and
priceless treasure.
Miss Shaw’s bright face grew very gentle.154 Felicia’s Friends
“Ben,” she said, “you and Ted come and stand by
me while I explain about the music; your whistles
come in almost the very first thing.”
“Do they?” cried the two little boys joyously, and
they went as close as possible, holding their precious
whistles.
“Now I will tell you the story, a piece at a time,”
said Miss Shaw, “and then I will play on the piano as
much as I have told you, and show you how your in-
struments take their parts. After to-night we hope
Miss Markham will play the piano, and then I can beat
the time for you and tell each one when his turn
comes.”
“Shall we tell our families what the story is, that
night, just before the entertainment, or how will they
know it?” asked Winifred.
“ The story is printed here,” and Miss Shaw showeil
them a large sheet of paper, two pages of which were
closely printed, “and I shall ask Mr. Lane to read what
takes place in each movement of the Symphony just
before we play it.”
“Does movement mean that we don’t have to keep
still?” asked Winifred hopefully, and she seemed a
little disappointed when Miss Shaw explained that a
movement in a Symphony was like a chapter in a
story.
‘But you can sing all over in the carols, just as well
as not,” Felicia comforted her as they put on their
coats together when at last the rehearsal was over.The Toy Symphony 155
“We'll be outdoors where nobody can see you ; and [’ll
hop right up and down with you, holding hands, if
you'd like to do it that way.”
“Felicia,” said Winifred solemnly, “I consider
you the very best friend that any girl could possibly
have.”
“Do you really ?” and Felicia’s cheeks were pink
with pleasure. “Oh, Winifred, do you suppose that
poor little Carina Lotti has an intimate friend ?”
“No, I don’t,” said Winifred. “I suppose she
plays and plays and plays on the violin till her fingers
’most drop off, and all she has is her uncle.”
“Winifred,” said Felicia, “if my father and your
mother are willing, let’s write a letter and invite her
to come here for Christmas, if she doesn’t have to play
anywhere, and not bring her violin at all—just come
for fan.
“Do you want her?” asked Winifred. She stood
very still and looked anxiously at Felicia. “Do you
want somebody beside me ?”
Felicia’s eyes widened. Then suddenly she leaned
forward and locking her hands behind Winifred’s
head, rocked back and forth on heel and toe.
“T want her for us—for you and me, so-we can
make her have a good time, together, if she can come
—and give her mother a Christmas surprise,” she said,
giving Winifred a little shake with every few words.
“ All right,” said Winifred, “we'll get her if we
can. Let’s both write to-morrow afternoon whileBeen ery Ot ee re a aaa is
pepe ene ee eaerryee we rete
dowege pe ge ee PERT
eojeeepnnteennntegeqetnysdate teeta abets
156 Felicia’s Friends
your father and my mother are resting, and show each
other what we’ve written at recess Monday if we don’t
have time before school. Shan’t you tell Mrs. Top-
bam ?”
“Yes, I believe we'd better,” said Felicia, ‘“‘ after
church to-morrow—and maybe » She hesitated.
“T guess I know,” laughed Winifred, under her
breath. ‘Of course you'll have to tell Mrs. Cope, or
else she’d feel hurt, but that’s all, Felicia, till we
know.”
“Yes,” said Felicia, “that’s all. I think it will be
a lovely secret, and I believe she’ll come!”CHAPTER XVIII
LETTERS AND TELEGRAMS
WHEN Mrs. Topham was waylaid after church next
day by two eager little girls, she smiled aifectionately
on them both.
“Does me good to see you two sitting so cozy side
by side,” she said; “now is there anything special you
wanted to say ? for I expect Mr. Topham won’t wish to
keep the horse standing such cold weather, and be-
side you know I have company at my house now.
’Tisn’t any use for them to come to church, even if
she was able, which she isn’t, yet. It’ll take one spell
to get her thawed out, poor thing. By what we make
out from the few words he can say, they’ve been cold
for a month; stoves didn’t work well, and so on.
Well now, dears, what is it with you 2?”
“You tell, Felicia,” said Winifred, ‘ because ’twas
your plan.”
“T thought,” Felicia clutched Mrs. Topham’s sleeve
and held it as she talked, “ we both thought what fun
it would be to invite that little Carina Lotti to come
here the day before Christmas and stay till the day
after, and surprise her mother; and father said I
might if you thought best, and have her stay with us
because we know your family will be with you, but
you’ve invited us for dinner and she could go, and
157158 Felicia’s Friends
then she’d hear the Christmas Eve carols, and you
said you’d bring them over to hear, and—oh, I’m
afraid that’s all mixed up, but do you understand ? ”
“Qertain I do, every word,” and Mrs. Topham
patted the little hand clutching her sleeve so tightly.
“ And if she can come I think ’twould be beautiful,—
but don’t set your hearts on it too much, for fear she
can’t. But that uncle senta telegram to the Desmazes
last night, or late in the afternoon ‘twas, saying he
wished somebody’d write to-day and tell just how the
mother is, for the little girl was worried, and though
she had a bad cold and he didn’t like to let her travel
he should fetch her right up here unless somebody
could say all was going on well. ’Twas the longest
telegram that ever I heard of. I saw Jed on our way
to church this morning and he said 'twas evident ex-
pense was no consideration to that man. There were
upwards of thirty words in it. But I presume he
can’t spell our language, and as Jed said, he could dic-
tate a telegram, and throw the responsibility of spell-
ing right on to the operator.”
“Then you think it would be all right?” asked
Felicia. “We thought we’d both compose our letters
this afternoon, and send them in one envelope, after
we've read them to each other, on Monday.”
“So do,” said Mrs. Topham, and she kissed them
both. “You just give my scarf an extra twist around
my ears, Felicia. There! And I’m going to write
the siginaw and Carina this afternoon ; there’ll beLetters and Telegrams 159
considerable mail coming to them, about Tuesday
morning, or maybe Monday night even. Good-bye
to you both, and good luck to your enterprise.”
The children had no time to exchange letters before
school next morning, but at recess while Miss Shaw
was showing the boys some photographs which Felicia
and Winifred had seen before, the two letters were
read and approved.
“Dear Carina Lotti,’ wrote Felicia, “you don't
know us, but Winifred Harlow and I live in Black-
berry Hill where your mother is now, not so very far
from Topham farm where she’s staying (and her hus-
band) with the very best people in the world. And
the Tophams do hope they’ll stay there all winter, for
though their languages are different they can under-
stand each other some, already. And we know you
play the violin and practice a great deal, so we
thought maybe you’d like a Christmas holiday, and if
your uncle could spare you and you didn’t have to
play, you could come up in the morning the day be-
fore Christmas and stay till the day after, anyway, or
longer if you could; and surprise your family, and
hear our Christmas carols, and the Toy Symphony.
We aren’t real musicians, except Miss Shaw, who’s
our teacher, but it is great fun. Won’t you please say
you'll come? and my father, who is the minister,
would be most happy to have you, and you could
sleep in the square room, right next to mine. I have
a parrot, and perhaps you’d enjoy seeing him. His
name is Martin. Oh, I do hope you will come!
“Yours respectfully,
“FELICIA LANE.”SNC ee eae eee laee|
orev
eres
ere
pees terre re
store
peer renee ee
160 Felicia’s Friends
“That is splendid,” said Winifred as she finished
reading; “mine isn’t as good or as long. Here itis,”
and she thrust it into her friend’s hand.
«“ ‘ Dear Carina Lotti,’ ” read Felicia, “ ‘I know what
my intermit friend Felicia Lane has written you, and
you'd better come if posible, for you'll have a
splendid time. Her father isn’t like most minnisters,
but quite diferent, and he makes you feel fine. You
must be tired to peaces playing all the time, but I’d
like to hear you. We shall just wate and waite till
we get your letter !
“¢ Yours and so fourth,
““¢ WINIFRED HARLOW.’
“Why, that is just as nice as it can be,” said
Felicia as she finished reading.
‘The spelling isn’t,” said Winifred bluntly, “ but as
[ told mother, if I had to stop to spell, I should never
get it done; and beside my thoughts just stick right
in my head and won’t come out when I begin to think
aboct spelling. And very likely she doesn’t know
one single thing about it, herself.”
“Maybe she doesn’t,” said Felicia, “and anyway it
sounds lovely, your letter, read out loud. Now let’s
put them both in this envelope father directed and
stamped for us, and then on our way home from
school we’ll post it.”
Both sets of little mittened fingers had hold of the
letter when it was pushed through the post-ollice slitLetters and Lelegrams 161
that afternoon, and each of the writers gave it a
squeeze “for luck” as it left their hands.
“And now we shall have to be patient till day after
to-morrow at the very soonest, father says,” Felicia
sighed as they turned away from the post-office.
“That seems a good while, but I guess between
school and rehearsals it will go pretty fast, after all.”
The time did go fast, even to such eager waiters.
There was practicing to be done when school hours
were over; not only must the tunes of the carols be
learned perfectly, but all the words must be firmly
fixed in the minds of the singers.
“For of course we shouldn’t want to carry our red
books that night,” Felicia said to her father, who had
been listening to her recitation of the verses, “ that
would not be like the children in England who have
sung those same carols for generations, would it,
father ?”
“No, indeed,” said Mr. Lane, who never failed to
understand his daughter’s meaning, no matter how
complicated her sentences might be. “We mustn’t
have any books that night; we must be able to clap
our mittened hands together to warm them.”
“<n the brisk and nipping air,’” quoted Felicia.
“Oh, I do hope it will be a fair night, so the stars
will shine their very best !”
Tuesday evening came the second rehearsal of the
Toy Symphony, which, in spite of many mistakes and
much laughter, was really quite a success. Miss Ellen162 Felicia’s Friends
Markham was there to play the piano, so that Miss
Shaw could give her whole attention to her orchestra.
Miss Ellen still had the remnants of her cold, but she
was in the best of spirits.
“This is what I call real fun,” she said enthusias-
tically to Miss Shaw when the first movement had
come toa close with much tooting of horns and beating
of drums. “I don’t see why we can’t have as good
times in Blackberry Hill as anywhere, now we’ve
waked up. We were most of us more than half
asleep when Mr. Lane and Felicia came, last spring,”
and she smiled down at Felicia, who was close at her
elbow, for Miss Ellen had been one of the little girl’s
first and best friends in Blackberry Hill.
“Miss Shaw thinks it’s lovely here, just as all of us
do,” said Felicia as she pinned a warm “ stocking-leg-
sleeve” over Miss Markham’s dress sleeve when the
rehearsal was over. ‘She says she’d like to stay
more than one year if the committee would like to
have her, and Nate Horner said he guessed they’d
better or he’d know the reason. Nate is very firm,”
said Felicia as she secured the last pin.
“ He’s a good boy,” said Miss Markham tolerantly,
“but it’s lucky he wasn’t in town last summer to help
on your garden ; he means well, but his feet take up so
much room that while he’s weeding one spot he’s
treading down the flower seeds in most of the rest of
the plot. He volunteered to help me one season, and
about all that came up was a row of nasturtiums thatLetters and Telegrams 163
had seeded in under the fence where his feet couldn’t
strike them.”
“He said he’d help me next spring,” said Felicia,
but Miss Markham reassured her.
“Mrs. Cope will shunt him off,” she said easily.
“She’s too pleased and proud with your success at
gardening to let anything trouble it. Here, Nate,
can I depend on you to keep me from slipping down
hill???
“Guess you can,” said the big boy, and he took a
good grip on her arm as the company started from
the house.
Thursday afternoon when Felicia and Winifred
stood on the door-stone in front of the schoolhouse,
waiting for Miss Shaw to finish copying some
problems on the blackboard, Mr. Fosdick came briskly
along, and when he saw them he waved aloft a yel-
low envelope.
“ You young ladies haven’t taken me into your confi-
dence,” he said as the two little girls flung themselves
on him, crying, “Is it for us, Mr. Fosdick? Is it for
us?” He held the envelope out at arm’s length as he
spoke and pretended to read, over his spectacles.
“But all the same duty is duty, and I was engaged,
for a consideration, to deliver this to the parties
mentioned on the outside—they seem to be ‘Miss
Felicia Lane and Miss Winifred Harlow,’ so here you
are.”
“You open it, Felicia,” said Winifred, dancing up164 Felicia’s Friends
and down, still keeping her hold on one of the pocket-
flaps of Mr. Fosdick’s long coat, “quick! and read
what it says.”
“Both letters are received, and invitation 1s ac-
cepted for December twenty-fourth,’ ” read Felicia in
a quavering voice. “* Please send word about trains.
Can come after eight o’clock in the morning. With
love, and thanks. CARINA LOTTI.’
«“ Winifred!” eried Felicia, “she’s coming! ” and
Mr Fosdick’s pocket-flap was in great danger of giv-
ing way under the sudden pressure brought to bear
on it, as Felicia seized her friend and hugged her.
“ Now look here,” said Mr. Fosdick, taking a firm
hold of a joyful little girl with each hand, “ this coat
has got to last me out my time, and it won’t, with
such a dragging every which way as you’re giving it.
And what’s more, I call it pretty poor treatment to
leave me all in the dark this way about what’s going
on. Here comes Miss Shaw, and I guess she’d feel
the same if I put the case to her.” .
“ Oh, we'll tell you both now,” cried Felicia; “ we'll
be delighted to, now we know!”
“Yes, indeed,” said Winifred; “and I’ve almost
flown to pieces trying not to tell, for the last five
days. Felicia, you begin, and if you leave out any-
thing, Pll put it in. I guess this will be about the
greatest excitement there’s ever been in Blackberry
Hill!” ;CHAPTER XIX
CARINA LOTTI
AT nine o’clock on the morning of the day before
Christmas Felicia was singing over her work in the
kitchen, while Miss Loreena Parks was wielding the
broom with right good will in the study, the minister
having been requested to make a round of early calls
which would keep him away from the house for a
couple of hours.
“The best man that ever lived gets right under
foot, when it comes to house-cleaning,” said Miss
Loreena as she brought out a newspaperful of sweep-
ings and lifted the cover from one hole of the stove.
“YT thought [’d burn this before you began to cook.
My! haven’t you rolled that dough ’most too thin ?
But no, you have the knack, so it’s safe for you.”
Her head was wrapped about with a worsted shawl,
so that it was almost the size of a bushel basket, and
Martin gazed at her inquiringly, his head on one side.
‘ What’s all this ? ” he asked Felicia, as Miss Parks
disappeared. “Martin is a gentleman. What’s all
this, Norloreena ?”
“ No, she’s a good Loreena,” laughed Felicia, “and
you know it, too. You’re the one that’s naughty—
sometimes; but then you area very entertaining bird ;
165166 Felicia’s Friends
that’s what Mr. Ledyard said about you, and it’s true.
Oh, Martin, I’m so excited I can hardly remember
whether I’ve put in the seasoning or not! Do you
think I have ?”
Martin regarded her thoughtfully, but made no
reply.
“ Yow’re not one bit of help about cooking,” Felicia
told him, “but I think I did put in enough. Did you
know, did you reelize, Martin, as Mr. Fosdick says,
that two visitors are coming to-day? Mr. Ledyard,
and Carina Lotti, that we’ve never seen before! It’s
one thing to know it, and another to reelize it, Martin.”
“ Good-morning,” said the parrot cheerfully. ‘“ The
best of luck.”
“Myr, Ledyard will come in his automobile about
eleven o’clock, Martin,” Felicia continued, rolling out
wafer gingerbread as she talked, “and be here for
dinner. We shall have stew with dumplings, and a
steamed suet and date pudding with hard sauce for
desert. Doesn’t that sound good to you?”
She paused, and Martin knew something was eX-
pected of him.
“ Fe-li-cia,” he said agreeably. “Very well. How
do youdo? Very well.”
“ And on the same train that I came on last spring,”
said Felicia, as she trimmed the edges of the ginger-
bread, “that very same train, Carina Lotti is coming,
and Winifred and I are to meet her, and Mr. Ledyard
is going to take us all three over to Topham farm,Berth
Carina Lotti 167
and then we'll leave Carina Lotti with her mother till
Mr. and Mrs. Topham and all of them come over to
hear the carols in the evening, and then they’ll leave
Carina Lotti here to stay all night in the room next
mine, and Mr. Ledyard is to have the best spare room ;
we have made it perfectly beautiful with green things
from the woods, and the fireplace works splendidly,
for father and I tried it last night. If I thought
you'd really care to see it, Martin, I’d take you up as
soon as I get these cookies in the oven.”
Martin looked out of the window and took a few
steps on his perch.
“ But you don’t care,” said Felicia, “and I’ve shown
you the loaves of bread and the cake and told you
about the chicken pie for to-morrow’s breakfast, so
you've seen and heard most of the important things.
Now, here goes the first tinful of cookies, and I shall
have to watch the clock, the fire is so hot. I’m really
glad, after all, that the second telegram came saying
Carina Lotti had to play at a concert this morning,
and couldn’t come till afternoon, for as Mrs. Topham
says, I’ve had just about all I could fly to, ever since
I got up, this first day of vacation. She’s sent love
in both those telegrams, Martin, so of course Winifred
and I sent it in our letter telling her how glad we
were she could come. In our first letters we were
‘and so forth,’ and ‘respectfully,’ you know. Now
I can’t talk to you any more,” and she closed the oven
door carefully, and stood with her eyes on the clock.168 Felicia’s Friends
The cookies were just the proper golden brown, the
dumplings were almost as light as feathers, and the
pudding was a dish to tempt a king. Mr. Ledyard,
“hungry as a bear” from his long ride in the keen
air, gave the little cook so much praise that her cheeks
grew pinker and pinker.
“T wish you could teach my cook how to make such
bread as yours, too, beside all the other good things,”
said Mr. Ledyard as they sat talking when the meal
was ovor, and Felicia dimpled again.
“My grandmother and my Aunt Mary taught me,”
-he said, “and they were very particular with me
Maybe your cook just learned out of a book.”
Her look of pity for the cook’s lack of proper instruc-
tion was too much for the gravity of her guest, who
laughed so heartily that Felicia joined him, not know-
ing why.
After dinner Mr. Ledyard took Mr. Lane in the
automobile to make several calls at outlying farms,
and at each place a square package tied with red ribbon
was left; attached to the red ribbon was a small card
with a red-cheeked Santa Claus printed at one end, and
“Merry Christmas from Felicia,” written in as large
letters as the card would accommodate. Inside the
boxes were peppermints for the older peo ple, and pea-
nut candy for the children.
“Tt came out just right,” Felicia had said, giving
her Christmas messengers a liberal sample of each kind
of candy. “Miss Loreena Parks helped me stir theCarina Lotti 169
peanuts in, and Mr. Fosdick gave me the boxes, so
I thought their names ought to be written on the
cards, too, but they both said ‘no,’ so I didn’t write
them.”
“JT can understand their feeling,” said Mr. Ledyard ;
“just stirring peanuts or providing boxes, Felicia, is a
very small part; there’s no real responsibility, you see,
such as you had.”
His eyes twinkled, and Felicia knew he was half-
laughing, but she did not mind.
“There, Martin,” she said when the automobile had
started, “now I must do just a few things more and
then get dressed to be all ready to start for the station
when they come back. I wish I could dress you up,
Martin. Oh, I wonder if you’d like a red ribbon
around your neck? It would be very becoming ; but
perhaps I’d better wait till to-morrow morning, for
maybe you would rumple it. I’d like you to have a
Christmasy look, Martin.”
The parrot eyed her suspiciously, and withdrew to
the back of his cage as he saw her with a ball of red
ribbon in her hand, gazing at him.
“ What’s all this?” he asked. “Martin is a gentle-
man. What’s all this ?”
“Tll put the ribbon away for now, in the drawer,”
said Felicia, “and make this kitchen as tidy as I can.
Martin, do you suppose Carina Lotti will look just
like her pictures, except for a different dress ? ”
“ Good-morning,” said Martin in a non-committal170 Felicia’s Friends
tone. “The best ofluck. Howd’youdo? Myname
is Martin.”
When the train from “ down below,” as the denizens
of Blackberry Hill expressed it, stopped at the little
station, Felicia and Winifred, hand in hand, were
waiting on the platform, as close to the edge as they
dared stand. For one breathless minute they thought
the guest had failed to come, as Mr. Wadleigh stepped
off the car alone. Then, with a wave of his hand to
them, he turned and looked up to the door of the car
in which stood a little figure in a fur coat with a cap
to match.
“Oh, there she is, and she has her violin!” cried
Felicia, and the little girl on the platform of the car
smiled down at her, and handed Mr. Wadleigh a pack-
age, still holding the green cloth case in her arms.
‘“‘ Nobody else takes him, my violin,” she said, shak-
ing her head at Mr. Wadleigh’s offer, and coming
cautiously down the steps.
“Here are your two friends, waiting for you,” said
Mr. Wadleigh, “and there’s your suit-case coming out
of the baggage-car. Good-bye, young lady. I’ve en-
joyed your company and hope to see you again soon.”
“Good-bye, and thank you,” said the little girl, and
she turned to Felicia and Winifred, flashing a smile at
them, and holding out her hand to each of her new
friends.
“This is Feleecia, I know,” she said, “and this is
Weenifred. Have I not guessed right ?”sata Se intwtes
Py er ee ree!
4
Csr: p es,
3
pee et ee
de
Faso PHInG ESRUCE,
Dae ee ee
“HAVE I NOt GUESSED RIGHA: -nr
oc bibaledis Galpede Redehetstetein tate nat thexedehehstepelegnimmanenanepeteetsen
a ae a
u
Se ee ee ee nas
i
‘
|
{
ti
;
i
f
i
i
sCarina Lotti 171
“Yes, you have,” said the two children together.
“But my name never sounded so nice before,”
added Winifred. “Oh, Carina Lotti, we are so glad
you’ve come, and you do look just like your picture,
all but the dress!”
“T have the dress in my case,” said Carina Lotti,
her black eyes sparkling and her little white teeth
gleaming as she laughed. “ All but the necklace f
have brought, to wear when I play at your party, if
you will have me.”
“Oh! Oh! Oh!” cried Felicia and Winifred so
loud that Mrs. Harlow heard them and came to the
door of the waiting-room.
“Come in here and warm yourself before you take
the ride to Topham farm,” she said, putting her arm
around the fur coat, and drawing the little violinist
into the cheery room. “ Mr. Ledyard’s taking a turn
around, and won’t be back for ten minutes, he said.”
“Oh, what a pretty room,” said Carina Lotti, and
the children, both talking at once, told her as muchas
they had time for, of life at Blackberry Hill station,
and Carina listened and laughed and nodded her
pretty head, the shining black rings of hair dancing
out from her cap with her motions.
Then, after such a short ten minutes, came the
automobile, and they were warmly tucked in under the
fur robes, Carina Lotti in the seat of honor beside
Mr. Ledyard, and away they flew to Topham farm.
“You come right in with me,” said Mrs. Topham,‘72 Felicia’s Friends
welcoming the little guest. ‘“ I told your mother about
ten minutes ago that I thought maybe somebody
would be coming to-day, and she guessed you right off
—so she’s some prepared, and I believe tis better thai
way. You open that door and ie
There was acry, half-tearful, yet full of joy, and then
the door was softly shut by Mrs. Topham, and she ran
out to the automobile again, her shawl over her head,
her kind face beaming.
“There! that’s all right!” she said. “You say
you'll come over for us in two loads, first one
about half-past six, Mr. Ledyard? Thank you, sir;
and it’s good to see you hereagain. Ishall leave those
three together tillsupper-time. I expect my own folks
pretty soon. My stars! Isn’t Christmas the very best
time of all the year? But there! every time is god! |
Now you fly off, and I’ll run in before I catch my
never-get-over.”beh t sty
CHAPTER XX
CHRISTMAS CHEER
THat Christmas which, as Felicia said, began the
night before, was one never to be forgotten in Black-
berry Hill. A home-made wreath hung in some
window of every house in the village, and a Christmas
candle, contributed by Mr. Fosdick, shone out from
every parlor or “ best-room,” when the merry carolers
began their rounds. Both post-office and store were
open, and a roaring fire in each stove welcomed visitors
from the farms who had come in town to hear the music.
The night was clear and cold, and the young singers,
wrapped so that they looked more like animated bun-
dles than boys and girls, went joyously up and down
the road, welcomed at every turn, sending out their
tidings of Christmas love and cheer to every dweller
in the little town. The big automobile had been run
into the shed behind Mr. Fosdick’s store, and gathered
around his stove, among others, were the visitors from
Topham farm. .
“Tm glad to see you, ma’am, and you, sir,” Mr. Fos-
dick had said, shaking hands with Mr. and Mrs. Des-
mazes. “You don’t understand my language, nor I
yours, either French or Kyetalian, but here’s a Merry
Christmas to you, all the same, and plenty of ’em.”
173174 Felicia’s Friends
“ Mer’ Chris’mas,” said the Frenchman with a broad
smile, and even his wife murmured something that
sounded like the greeting, as she also smiled on the
host.
“And as for you, little miss,” and the storekeeper
clasped Carina’s soft hand in his hard old fingers, hold-
ing it gently, “you and I would get on first-rate, Pil
warrant, if we had the chance. I understand from
Miss Shaw that you’re going to favor us on your in-
strument to-morrow night, and I’d like to introduce
myself as the gentleman that plays the clappers, and
doesn’t propose to be put in the shade by anybody of
your size.”
“No!” said Carina, her black eyes sparkling up at
him. “No? Mr. Fosdeeck? We shall see! Maybe,
as Feleecia says, we have one duet, you and I. When
Miss Shaw gives me the museec to-morrow morning, I
find out. But remembaire,” and she held up a small
finger, “I am veesitor—you should be very what
Weenifred call extra polite to me this time.”
“So I should,” said Mr. Fosdick, swinging her hand
for a moment before he released it, “and so I will.
And right off now I’ll promise you the biggest bag of
peanuts you can carry back to the city when you go,
and, little acquainted with you as I am, I wish you
could make it in your way to come often.”
“Thank you,” said Carina, and her black eyes soft-
ened. ‘Here are very kind people, in Blackberry
Hill. I believe the most kindest in the world.”Christmas Cheer 175
“Sure,” said Mr. Fosdick; “ what else were you ex-
pecting ?”’
The Christmas stockings that were hung by Black-
berry Hill chimneys that night, and the presents which
came from them next morning, would make a story
without anything else. Felicia’s stocking could not
hold one quarter of the gifts her friends had made for
her, with loving hands. There were aprons and bags,
handkerchiefs and cushions—all sorts of pretty things,
But even more than her own gifts, Felicia enjoyed
those with which she and the other children of Black-
berry Hill had filled to overflowing the stocking of
their little guest—for every one in the village claimed
a share in Carina Lotti, who had so honored them by
her coming.
The two children emptied their gifts on the study
table, cleared for the occasion, while Mr. Lane and Mr.
Ledyard watched their delight, and Miss Parks wan-
dered in and out, preparing the late breakfast and en-
joying the fun, by turns.
_ “Winifred is coming Just as soon as she can, you
know, Miss Loreena,” Felicia said, when at last she
flew out into the kitchen to help with the final touches
to the breakfast table. “And Mr. Ledyard has given
her a darling little gun-metal watch, exactly like this
one he’s given me. Isn’t it beautiful ? And it goes
on this pretty chain, and tucks into my belt, see!”
“That’s as pretty a trinket as ever I saw,” said
Miss Parks. “But, Felicia, I want you to cast your176 Felicia’s Friends
eye on this little contrivance he’s given me, ‘to aid the
hearing,’ it says on the paper. And it certainly does
that; I could hear a whisper with it, and so small no-
body would notice it; they’d just think I had my hand
up to my head in an easy position, now wouldn’t they ?”
“T never saw anything more splendid for a person
who’s a little deaf,” said Felicia admiring Miss Lo-
reena’s gift, with gratifying enthusiasm; “ nobody
will think anything about it, except when you show it
to them.”
“JT shall show it all around,” said Miss Parks.
“There are others whose hearing isn’t what it was,
though all are not willing to admit it,as Iam. Per-
haps you may have noticed you have to repeat things
to Lydia Cope more than once, if you happen to lower
your voice a mite. She has means so she could invest
in one of these if she saw fit. Don’t look scared, Feli-
cia, I shan’t speak of it to her, right out. How do
you think Martin looks? You see what I’ve put on
him. He let me, just like a lamb.”
“Why, Martin Lane, if you aren’t handsome!”
cried Felicia, and she ran to the study door. “ Please
all come and see Martin,” she said. “ Breakfast is
ready, and Miss Loreena has dressed him with a beau-
tiful red bow.”
Sure enough, there sat Martin in his cage, looking as
amiable as possible, and holding his head stiffly erect.
Tied around his neck was a bright red ribbon, and
standing up behind his head was an elaborate bowChristmas Cheer 177
with four loops and an equal number of ends, cut in
double points by the sharp scissors which always
dangled from a cord at Miss Loreena’s side.
“ Beautiful bird! Mr. Marteen, you are a most
beautiful bird!” said Carina Lotti, making a low bow
before Martin’s cage.
The parrot gazed at her brilliant little face, rising
from the pretty scarlet dress she wore, and then, press-
ing close to the bars of his cage, he poked a claw
through, and poured forth a stream of compliment.
“The best of luck! Good-morning! Pretty well!
Pretty well! Good girl! Bee-yu-tiful! Bee-yu-tiful!
How-do-you-do!” he said, without a pause, and when
Jarina allowed him to grasp her finger, and laughed
at him, Martin chuckled with delight.
“Pretty well?” he said in an inquiring tone, his
eyes going from one to another of the group. “ Pretty
well? Bee-yu-tiful!”
After breakfast the hours flew, till the big automo-
bile came once more to the parsonage gate and after
taking the family there, picked up Mrs. Harlow and
Winifred from the station and carried them all to
Topham farm. Mrs. Harlow must be back in time
for the afternoon train, then she would be free again,
for the express agent had offered to take her place for
the evening.
“JT made up a Christmas box for him,” said Mrs.
Harlow to Felicia on the way over to Topham farm,
“and there’s some of it he’ll enjoy to-night, if I’m notaE earner ere arer = pmasanenion nani ¢ aot
ee eee ene cnet ate ana ek
178 Felicia’s Friends
mistaken. I’ve got a good fire all laid for him, too.
He’s got a young lady off somewhere, and he’ll write
to her most likely. I told him Id leave pens and paper
handy.”
While the parsonage family were spending the after-
noon at Topham farm, and the two little Blackberry
Hill girls were listening, entranced, to the stories of
travel and work and pleasure told by Carina Lotti,
Miss Parks was helping Miss Shaw decorate the tree
which was to stand behind the orchestra, in Mrs.
Cope’s parlor, and making herself useful in many
other ways.
“You don’t suppose they’ll think ’tis too cold a
night for ice-cream, do you, Loreena?” asked Mrs.
Cope, anxiously, as evening drew near. “ You see I
knew suppers would be light and hurried to-night, and
seemed to me ice-cream and cake and hot chocolate
was about the best I could do, for so many folks.
There’ll be between sixty and seventy here. We'll
all be kept busy, Mrs. Topham, Mrs. Harlow, you and I.
What do you think? Have I made a bad choice?”
“Tauzee, no,” said Miss Parks easily. “I never
yet saw the night ’twas too cold for young folks to
eat ice-cream; and the older ones that’s subject to
fears, let °em keep to the chocolate. My! but you’ve
laid in a stock of cream!”
“Five quarts for whipping,” said Mrs. Cope. “I
hope I don’t skimp when I set out to do a thing.”
“No, you don’t,” allowed Miss Parks promptly.Christmas Cheer 179
“You’re a liberal provider. What do you suppose
Felicia’ll say when she gets home from Topham farm,
and sees what’s in the study? There! don’t I hear
the chug o’ that machine? Let me look out o’ the
window. Yes, there are the two lamps shining. I
don’t believe it’ll be long before she’s over here. She’ll
never wait till time for the entertainment.”
“T hope she won’t,” said Mrs. Cope, and her hopes
were fulfilled, for in less than fifteen minutes a little
flushed, bright-eyed girl, trembling with excitement,
came flying in at the kitchen door and threw her arms
around each of her three friends in turn, beginning
with Miss Parks, who happened to be nearest the door.
“Oh!” she cried, “you knew about it! My lovely
little piano that belonged to Mr. Gregg’s daughter and
that’s all new inside, and polished outside till it’s just
the same as new! Father says you knew,—and Wini-
fred and I can both practice on it, Miss Shaw, while
father is making calls—and we shall learn duets and
everything! And the letter that came with it I shall
keep forever and ever, as long as I live. In it Mr.
Gregg says I am his ‘dear little friend,’ and I’m just
as proud! Isn’t it the most beautiful and surprising
thing that ever happened, Mrs. Cope?”
“Here, child, you let me smooth out your hair-bow,
and head you toward home,” said Mrs. Cope, but she
gave Felicia a warm kiss and a good squeeze as she
spoke. “You've got to help that little violin girl into
those wonderful clothes of hers, as I understand it,180 Felicia’s Friends
and time’s going fast. We're all as pleased for you
as can be,” she added affectionately, pushing Felicia
toward the door, “but if you could lie down flat and
still for ten minutes, I should call it a good plan.”
The Toy Symphony was announced, on a little
notice posted in the office beside the letter boxes, to
begin at “seven-thirty, sharp,” but every guest was
seated in Mrs. Cope’s big parlor or in the hallway,
where a good view of the performers could be obtained,
long before the clock struck the half-hour. They were
in easy chairs and stiff chairs, rocking-chairs and
straight-backed, and many were on camp-stools brought
from the old Town Hall.
A curtain had been drawn across the end of the
parlor where the tree stood, for that was not to be
shown till the end of the evening. The hum of con-
versation stopped when the performers filed in through
the back-parlor door and took their seats, and then there
was liberal applause. There was frank staring and
generous hand clapping, when the little violinist, in her
beautiful dress, stepped with a graceful bow to her
place beside the piano, and after a moment, as Miss
Markham struck the “A” for her tuning, put her
violin up close to her glowing face.
“Tsn’t she perfectly lovely ?” Felicia whispered to
Winifred, as they opened their twin boxes on the little
table placed for their convenience. “ Aren’t you glad
she came ?”
“Yes, I am,” said Winifred, and she meant it.AEs Gp eng Uh et ble ote tyes Tek ELE TPE hehe oe
SE Tet ei eee Rh tae
Christmas Cheer 181
“Felicia, what time does your watch say? Mine says
twenty-eight-and-a-half minutes after.”
“So does mine,” said Felicia. “Just exactly. It’s
almost time to begin.”
There was a great clapping of hands when Mr. Lane
rose to read the story of the first movement of the
Symphony, and still more when he had finished. It
was a simple little story of some children, living in a
big, old-fashioned house in an English country town,
with the scene laid on Christmas Day. The story be-
gins with the waking of the children on Christmas
morning, as the old clock in the hall and a cuckoo
clock in their bedchamber strike the hour of six.
The children scramble for their stockings, and begin
to play on the various toy instruments they find, the
two youngest on their whistles, and one of the girls on
a music-box she has found in the very top of her stock-
ing. The parents come in and join in the fun, until a
tinkling beil calls them to breakfast, and the first move-
ment ends.
From the first notes of the piano and violin, playing
the prelude to the children’s waking, until the last
rush of the little people to breakfast, still blowing
their horns and beating their drums, the audience
listened intently, but when the music stopped there
were many words of praise and pleasure mixed with
the applause.
“Well there, those children manage those little
hammers first-rate, don’t they?” Mrs. Harlow ap-182 Felicia’s Friends
pealed to Mr. Lane. “ There’s considerable knack
required, too.”
“Strikes me our boys do as well as the best,” said
Mr. French to Mr. Hilliard, and the father of six of
the performers nodded with much satisfaction.
“Nate doesn’t come in except for just a minute, in
this first movement,” Mrs. Horner explained to her
husband, who looked a little disappointed; “but he
has considerable in the third movement, and he keeps
at it steady in this next one, he told me.”
The only one of the performers who had no rela-
tive there was little Ben Kingman, for his aunt had
refused even the special invitation carried her by Mr.
Fosdick from Mrs. Cope. But if he lacked relatives,
little Ben had plenty of warm friends, and Mr. Led-
yard, with Mr. Fosdick, nodded approval to the boy,
and even spoke a word or two over the heads of the
intervening people.
“You knew I was going to take the little chap
down with me, to-morrow, for a holiday ?” Mr. Led-
yard asked his neighbor, and Mr. Fosdick turned to
him with satisfaction written plainly on his keen
face.
“Yes, sir, and I’m glad to hear it,” he said heartily ;
“itll do him a world of good. He isn’t a rugged
little feller, and I’ve thought y
“So have I,” said Mr. Ledyard quickly. “And
when I get him down there, I mean to keep him, if
possible. The aunt evidently doesn’t care for him,Christmas Cheer 183
and it may be that if I can find a strong boy to send
up in Ben’s place a
“She'll let you keep him,” and Mr. Fosdick hugged
his arms joyfully. ‘ And you'll fetch him up now and
again to see his friends here? I knew you would.
And I understand Bobby Simpson’s to have an outing,
too?”
“Yes,” said Mr. Ledyard, “he shall have a chance
to see some machinery, and later on take a course of
study in special mechanical work, if he likes; but you
won’t lose him from Blackberry Hill. Dve been talk-
ing to him, and he’s a real country boy at heart.”
“Glad he is,” said Mr. Fosdick; “we think a good
deal of him. There! they’ve begun to straighten up
again. Id like a picture of those three little girls
together. Just as different as they can be, and all
pretty to look at; but Felicia’s my girl, when you
come right down to it.”
The second movement, the sleigh-ride, with much
jingling of bells and tooting of horns, trumpets and
whistles, went off merrily. And the third and last
movement told of the Christmas party; beginning
with the dreamy waltz played by piano and violin,
carrying out the idea of the march around the tree,
a gay little romping dance, and the final good-night,
with the clock striking twelve; it was heard with
delight and applauded with much energy.
Then Mr. Ledyard and Mr. Fosdick called for the
different musicians in turn, and all had to come for-184 Felicia’s Friends
ward and bow in response to much clapping. When
the call for “whistles” came, Ben and Ted stepped
out, holding hands, and bowed until they almost lost
their balance.
“T believe I shall have to borrow Ted once in a
while,” said Mr. Ledyard. “Suppose his father and
mother would lend him ?”
“Not a doubt of it,” said Mr. Fosdick promptly.
“ He’s been passed around amongst the relatives ever
since he was a baby, being the youngest, and an easy
child to manage. But look here, how should you like
to adopt me, or borrow me, or something? I haven’t
any folks to object. See here, Felicia, what should
you say to my going away from Blackberry Hill, if a
good home offered elsewhere ?”’
Felicia had appeared, within a minute, at his elbow;
but though she had a tray on which were several
plates of ice-cream, she stopped in answer to his query,
and shook her head at him.
“You couldn’t go,” she said, with decision. “ Black-
berry Hill wouldn’t be Blackberry Hill without you,
and you—why you just couldn’t, Mr. Fosdick.”
“ Doesn’t seem a mite alarmed about it, does she ?”’
said her old friend, as she passed on, leaving a plate
in his hand, and one in Mr. Ledyard’s. ‘“ Now, how
would it be if I was to set this somewhere near the
fire, while nobody’s looking? I like ice-cream, but
the chill has to be kind of eased up a mite to suit me.
I guess I’ll keep to cake and find some boy that couldacter
Christmas Cheer 185
make way with this, if urged. This is a fine party
you're having, Mrs. Cope,” he added, as the hostess of
the evening, drew near with a tray of chocolate-cups.
“Yes, ma’am, one of those will go right to the spot.”
“The best—at least the prettiest, of all, is to come
last—gift of Mr. Ledyard,” said Mrs. Cope. ‘ When
all have finished the refreshments, you'll see.”
They did see, for at last a hush fell on the room, as
the lamps were turned out, and only the faint light
from a tall candle in the hall flickered in the sudden
darkness. The green curtain was pulled back, and out
gleamed the tree, brave with tinsel and dozens of little
twinkling lights of many colors, and on its topmost
branch a glittering star. And then, when the “ Ohs”
and “ Ahs” had quieted, and only a murmur of ad-
miration came, from the shadowy corner behind the
tree stepped out the little violinist, and beside her
Bobby, with rapt face and shining eyes.
“Tt was Martin Luther’s Christmas hymn,” said
Mrs. Topham, when the music was over, and the com-
pany had pressed forward to get a closer view of the
tree. “They practiced it this afternoon; isn’t it
beautiful? There, she’s going to play again. She’s
willing and glad to have her folks stay with me, she
says. I hada grand talk with her this afternoon, too.
She’s old for her age—not fifteen yet; but still she has
a child’s ways, too. I told her she was to feel free to
come up often as she could. She’s going off to play
‘on the road,’ as she calls it, for a while now, with her186 Felicia’s Friends
uncle; she’ll play in some of the big cities. The
candy she brought me will last the winter out, unless I
can get some of you young folks to help me dispose of
it.”
“She brought presents for everybody,” said Felicia,
“and she’s going to write to Winifred and me, Mrs.
Topham, from places where she plays. Won’t it be
exciting ?”
“Strange how things come to Blackberry Hill,”
mused her friend as she linked her arm in Felicia’s ;
“things and people; and it’s going to spread out and
make changes; I can see ahead.”
“But they couldn’t come to a lovelier place in the
world, the things and the people, could they ?” asked
Felicia. ‘“ And the changes—they’ll only be beautiful
changes, like pianos, and Christmas parties, and little
ear-trumpets, and—oh, there’s Washington’s birthday
coming ; and ever so many other good times, father’s
planning ; and oh—there are lots of things coming to
Blackberry Hill, but to-night I’m too happy and toe
tired to think of them!”
The Stories in this Series are:
FELICIA
FELICIA’S FRIENDS
FELICIA VISITS
FELICIA’S FOLKSELIZABETH LINCOLN GOULD
ISS ELIZABETH LINCOLN
GOULD was born and
brought up in Boston, re-
ceiving her education in the public
and private schools of the city which
was always her loved home. Her
father was a publisher and book-
seller, and from the time when she
was a very little girl she was writing
stories and verses for children—her
first efforts being made long before
she had mastered the art of spell-
ing. As a child she loved out-door play best, but be-
ing a little city girl she missed many of the good
times which come to country children.
She loved music, fairy stories, and a very old bat-
tered doll best of all the treasures to be found indoors.
In the city street where she lived there were a good
many housefuls of children, most of them were several
years older than she, but there were two boys nearest
her age, with whom she played so happily and who
taught her so many lessons that a little girl without
brothers often misses, that she always liked little boys
for their sakes ever after. And for the sake of the many
little girls who were her schoolmates and friends, she
liked all the little girls, the naughty ones and the
good ones, the mischievous and the serious. Miss
Gould died in Boston, December 11, 1914.
Miss Gould wrote the following books:
The Admiral’s Granddaughter
The Admiral’s Little Housekeeper
The Admiral’s Little Secretary
The Admiral’s Little Companion
Felicia
Felicia’s Friends
Felicia Visits
Felicia’s Folks
Little Polly Prentiss
Polly Prentiss Goes to School
Polly Prentiss Goes A-Visiting
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