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 THE PILGRIMS' MONUMENT.
 
 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH 
 
 BY 
 
 FRANCES A. HUMPHREY 
 
 Author of " The Children of Old Park's Tavern" and 
 " Dean Stanley with the Children." 
 
 1 Hail to thee, thou little ship Mayflower! 
 . . . Honor to the brave and true! " 
 
 THOMAS CARLYLH 
 
 BOSTON AND CHICAGO 
 
 Congregational .Suu&uii-^cbool iinb publishing .Sorktn
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1890, 
 BY CONGREGATIONAL SUNDAY-SCHOOL AND PUBLISHING SOCIETY.
 
 Co lElla Jatman $ratt. 
 
 MY DEAR FRIEND : 
 
 It gives me great pleasure to link your name, so dear 
 to the children of our country, with mine, in dedicating to 
 you this little book written for the purpose of interesting 
 them, if I may, in the work and fortunes of their fore- 
 fathers. 
 
 F. A. H. 
 
 BOSTON, January 8, 1890.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 ON THE WAY TO PILGRIM TOWN 7 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 AN EARLY MORNING ON COLE'S HILL 21 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 TEDDY OF CLAM-SHELL ALLEY . . 31 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 THE SWEETE BROOKE UNDER THE HILL ..,,,. 43 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 LITTLE BESS 56 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 THE STREET OF THE SEVEN HOUSES 68 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 SUZETTE GIVES TEDDY A HISTORY LESSON 82 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 To AND FRO IN PILGRIM LAND 101 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 THE ADVENTURE OF JOHN BILLINGTON 124 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 A WET EVENING 133 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 THE LAWN-TENNIS PARTY 155
 
 vi CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 LITTLE BESS TELLS THE STORY 175 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 THE FIRST NEW ENGLAND THANKSGIVING 193 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 THE SAD GLAD YEAR OF 1623 206 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 THE LITTLE GRANDMOTHER'S RIDE . 224 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 THE CHILDREN'S EXCURSION .... 247 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 THE EQUINOCTIAL 268 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 A LARK WITH UNCLE TOM 286 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 THE DEPARTURE OF A LITTLE PILGRIM 304 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 WESTWARD Ho! 320
 
 
 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 ON THE WAY TO PILGRIM TOWN. 
 
 And the heavy night hung dark 
 
 The hills and waters o'er, 
 When a band of exiles moored their bark 
 
 On the wild New England shore. 
 
 Mrs. Hemans. 
 
 and Suzette were seated in a shady 
 corner of the upper deck of the Stamford. 
 They had arrived in Boston the night before, on 
 the nine o'clock western express, from the Water- 
 man Ranch, Colorado. They arrived tired, dusty, 
 and cross, after the fashion of travelers. But a 
 warm bath, a supper, and a night's sleep at the 
 Tremont House had changed all these conditions 
 for the better. 
 
 The friends who had had them in charge had 
 sailed at five that morning on a European steamer, 
 having received the assurance of the proprietor of 
 the house that he would see the two safely on
 
 8 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 board the Stamford and consign them to the care 
 of its captain. 
 
 Refreshed, and eager to see what they could of 
 this Boston, so old and yet so new, they had taken 
 a brief run upon the famous Common in the early 
 morning, had skipped a handful of gravel across 
 the waters of its historic Frog Pond, and had 
 astonished a small ragamuffin who was sitting 
 upon one of its seats by bestowing upon him a 
 fifty-cent silver coin. 
 
 The eyes of the ragged little fellow had followed 
 the two wistfully as they went on a half-run down 
 under the arching elms of the Park Street mall. 
 The green turf was wet and the trees heavy with 
 a rain of the previous night, and a passing breeze 
 sent a shower of glistening drops down upon 
 Dick's uncovered head and Suzette's trim travel- 
 ing suit. But they did not mind ; it was only a 
 friendly challenge from the morning so freshly 
 bathed and sparkling. 
 
 The eyes of a policeman standing by the Brewer 
 Fountain, wherein flocks of English sparrows 
 were bathing, fell upon this pair so gay and debo- 
 nair. As they drew near, and he met their frank 
 and friendly glance, he spoke : 
 
 " Y' don't b'long to Boston, I '11 bet"
 
 ON THE WAY TO PILGRIM TOWN. 9 
 
 " No, we don't," was Dick's response. " We 're 
 straight from Colorado, and we never saw Boston 
 before." 
 
 " I thought so," replied the policeman. " Boston 
 boys V girls don't turn out this time 'n th' morn- 
 in' to walk on th' Common." 
 
 " Oh, but I should think they would ! " said 
 Suzette, giving a little skip expressive of her 
 supreme happiness. " If I lived in Boston I 
 should take a walk on the Common every morning ! 
 It 's a splendid place for a race." 
 
 " Have you be'n over t' th' Gardings ? " asked the 
 policeman, his interest deepening in this Western 
 pair, so new in his experience. 
 
 " No, we have n't," was the reply. 
 
 " Well, if y' want t' see somethin' real harn- 
 some, jest go over there. Th' rhododundrums 
 are out." 
 
 "Is there time, Dick ? " asked Suzette, glancing 
 up at the clock on the Park Street Church. " It 's 
 six now, and breakfast at half-past ' sharp,' the 
 waiter said, you know, if we want to get to the 
 wharf in time." 
 
 " There 's time enough an' t' spare f 'r such fast 
 trotters as you be," said the policeman. 
 
 "Thanks!" came from the two simultaneously,
 
 IO LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 and, with a wave of Dick's hat and Suzette's hand, 
 they were off, flashing like a pair of meteors across 
 the West Street mall, embowered in lindens, and 
 over Monument Hill so called from the monu- 
 ment to the soldiers of '61-64 which caps its 
 summit. 
 
 It was but a short run, after all, across the 
 parade ground and the pretty stone bridge to the 
 haunt of the " rhododundrums," anglic^ rhodo- 
 dendrons. The Gardens were quiet. Not a person 
 was to be seen walking on the brown, well-kept 
 paths. Plenty of English sparrows were flitting 
 in and out of the shrubbery and quarreling among 
 the pansies and crimson-tipped daisies and hyacinths 
 with which the beds were crowded. The small 
 blue lake rippled in tiny waves against its stone 
 curbing, while the pretty swan-boats lay idle at 
 their moorings. 
 
 Not many years ago the restless tide of the 
 Charles River ebbed and flowed where these 
 lovely Gardens are to-day a fact hard to realize 
 on such a sweet, sunny morning as was this on 
 which Dick and Suzette saw them for the first 
 time. 
 
 " O Dick ! just look at that ! " exclaimed Su- 
 zette, pointing to one of the small painted signs
 
 ON THE WAY TO PILGRIM TOWN. II 
 
 which forbid the bringing of dogs into the Gar- 
 dens. " ' Dogs not allowed on this garden.' Just 
 think of it ! Why, if we had brought Hector, 
 they would n't have let us taken him in here! 
 What a shame ! " and her cheeks glowed with 
 indignation that any spot upon earth should be 
 thought too good for her magnificent Hector to < 
 enter. 
 
 Hector was an English greyhound, one of a 
 large family of shepherd, pug, pointer, and terrier 
 dogs which were domiciled at the Waterman Ranch 
 and were the inseparable companions of these two. 
 
 " I should n't care one bit for a place that I 
 could n't take a dog to ; should you, Dick ? " 
 
 "No, I shouldn't," was Dick's hearty response. 
 " But it 's awfully nice, Sue. Mamma would like 
 it. Just see how thick and soft the grass is ! 
 Would n't Hector and Juno tear over it though ? I 
 don't suppose they let horses come in either." 
 
 "No only iron ones," said Suzette, glancing 
 somewhat disdainfully at the big equestrian statue 
 of Washington. She had never seen any bronze 
 statuary before, and on the whole she concluded 
 she did not like it. It was black and dismal. 
 Chiquita, who always shied at an Indian, would be 
 afraid of that iron man over there, she was sure.
 
 12 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 "And there 's another sign, Dick! 'Keep off 
 the grass ' ! Oh ! " and she skipped off the vel- 
 vety turf upon which she was walking, and which 
 seemed so nice and springy to her feet. " What do 
 you suppose they 'd do to you if they caught you on 
 it, Dick ? Shut you up in prison ? And, Dick," 
 stopping short by a bed of superb pansies, " I 
 don't suppose they 'd let you pick even one flower ! " 
 
 And in utter disgust with a place where she 
 could neither walk on the grass nor pick a flower, 
 romp with her dog nor ride her horse, the free-born 
 little Westerner turned her back upon the Public 
 Gardens, and walked across Charles Street back to 
 the more democratic Common. 
 
 Democratic ; for, oh, joyful sight ! right there, 
 on the very thickest and greenest grass in the 
 whole parade ground, sat two jolly little girls, 
 dirty, it is true, but with the brightest of eyes 
 and the dimpliest of cheeks, picking dandelions ! 
 Real, golden dandelions ! Such dandelions as 
 Suzette had never seen in her life before, if in- 
 deed she had ever seen any ; dandelions like 
 Wordsworth's daffodils, 
 
 "A host . . . 
 
 Continuous as the stars that shine 
 And twinkle on the milky way."
 
 ON THE WAY TO PILGRIM TOWN. 13 
 
 With a shriek of delight Suzette dropped upon 
 the grass beside the two little girls, and holding 
 up a dandelion to the good-natured policeman who 
 had told them about the " rhododundrums," and 
 who was standing by looking smilingly on, said, 
 " I 'd rather have one dandelion that I can pick 
 than a million rhododendrons that I can't." 
 
 And then she had a little chat with the owners 
 of the bright eyes and dimpled cheeks, and it was 
 all about dandelions. And did they always grow 
 here, and were they always so plenty, and could 
 they pick as many as they liked, and did n't every 
 boy and girl in Boston come here to pick dande- 
 lions ? And was n't it a funny name dent de lion ! 
 a lion's tooth ! just because somebody thought its 
 leaves looked like lions' teeth ! And did not they 
 think them ever so much prettier than the flowers 
 in the Gardens, which they could not pick ? And 
 she had heard that children made necklaces of 
 them, and did they ever ? And were they not like 
 golden stars or little golden platters, or fairy floors 
 for Queen Titania to dance upon ? or fifty other 
 pretty fancies, which Dick broke in upon with the 
 information that they had just one minute and a 
 half in which to reach the Tremont House. 
 
 And as they hurried up the Beacon Street mall
 
 14 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 the two little girls wondered who they could be. 
 And little Maggie, who had heard a good deal 
 about saints, thought maybe Suzette was a little 
 one, she was so nice and sweet and talked so 
 prettily. All the saints she knew anything about 
 were grown up, but why could n't a little girl be a 
 saint if she were good enough ? To be sure, she 
 was not such a -very little girl such as they. 
 And so we leave them chatting among their 
 dandelions. 
 
 As Dick and Suzette walked rapidly on, they 
 looked in vain for their ragamuffin of a boy. His 
 seat was empty ; he had disappeared. 
 
 After breakfast came the drive to the wharf; 
 past King's Chapel and the Old State House with 
 its lion and unicorn, and State Street, once King's 
 Street, where the Boston Massacre took place in 
 1770. There was a distant glimpse, too, of Faneuil 
 Hall, which Dick knew at once from the pictures he 
 had seen of it. Altogether the drive was full of 
 interest, and they were almost sorry when they 
 reached the wharf. 
 
 But they were only just in time. The wharf- 
 men had wheeled on the last load of freight. 
 People were running hither and thither, and 
 settling themselves and their baskets and bundles
 
 ON THE WAY TO PILGRIM TOWN. 15 
 
 in the most comfortable places they could find. 
 The man who always arrives just as the plank is 
 to be withdrawn skipped over. Then, with one 
 deep breath, one loud " pouf ! " the engine began 
 its work, the Stamford backed from her moorings, 
 and the delightful, delicious sail to Old Pilgrim 
 Town began, and, as was remarked in the very 
 first line of this chapter, " Dick and Suzette were 
 seated in a shady corner of the upper deck." 
 
 "There!" said Suzette, looking joyfully about 
 her, " now I feel as if we were really on our way 
 to Plymouth. It has n't seemed one bit as though 
 we were before. But this this why, we might 
 be going to Camelot, Dick ! " 
 
 Allowance must be made for Suzette's enthusi- 
 asm, for, as we all know, Camelot was situated on 
 a river. 
 
 " Willows whiten, aspens quiver, 
 Little breezes dusk and shiver 
 Through the wave that runs forever 
 By the island in the river 
 
 Flowing down to Camelot." 
 
 But, as we shall see, Suzette had somehow 
 mingled in her day-dreams the Knights of Came- 
 lot with the Pilgrims of Plymouth, both being 
 brave and true men, and having taken evidently
 
 1 6 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 the same knightly vow : " To speak the truth ; to 
 maintain the right ; to protect women, the poor, 
 and the distressed ; to practice courtesy ; to pursue 
 the infidel ; to despise the allurements of ease and 
 safety, and to maintain each his honor in every 
 perilous adventure." 
 
 And so it pleased her to fancy that this busy, 
 bustling port was something like to that river 
 winding clearly 
 
 " Down to towered Camelot." 
 
 At any rate, it was all new, and as near a land 
 of poesy and romance as anything she had ever 
 seen. And even to us, who know it well, Boston 
 Harbor, though not Camelot, is beautiful and full 
 of interest, and one of our poets has rhymed about 
 it almost as charmingly as Tennyson has of Came- 
 lot. 
 
 "O bounteous seas that never fail! 
 
 O day remembered yet ! 
 O happy port that spied the sail 
 Which wafted Lafayette!" 
 
 is what Emerson says about it. And it is in the 
 same poem that these two lines appear : 
 
 "And twice each day the flowing sea 
 Took Boston in its arms."
 
 ON THE WAY TO PILGRIM TOWN. 1>J 
 
 Which is certainly an extremely pretty way of say- 
 ing that twice a day the tides flow and ebb around 
 the city. 
 
 "That's so," was Dick's somewhat absent re- 
 sponse to Suzette's remark. For he was watching 
 the craft round about the rowboats, and steam- 
 tugs, and sloops, and schooners, and barques, and 
 big ships that were either moving slowly to their 
 anchorage or making their way out into more open 
 waters. 
 
 It was a scene full of interest to the eyes of a 
 western boy who had never breathed the breath 
 of the salt sea before, and he fell to wondering at 
 which of these wharves it was that Boston gave 
 her famous tea-party to her royal mother in 1773, 
 when the Indians dropped the chests one by one 
 into the "laughing sea." 
 
 And so the Stamford moved on, while the sun, 
 climbing higher and higher in the sky, shone 
 warmly upon hulls and sails and sent a million 
 sparkles of light across the water. Past Forts 
 Winthrop and Independence ; past the black pyra- 
 mid of Nix's Mate ; past Fort Warren and the 
 Bug Light and the Outer Light ; past the 
 whistling buoy which moans with every rise and 
 fall of the restless waves, past all these they
 
 1 8 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 steamed out into the bay, beyond which stretched 
 the blue of the ocean. For it was blue that day ; 
 neither gray nor green nor purple, as it often is, 
 but blue and sparkling and dimpling with smiles, 
 giving a right royal welcome to the two who sat 
 in their shady corner, silent, but with eyes alight 
 with excitement. 
 
 How wonderful it all was ! Away off there on 
 the horizon line were tips of sails that presently 
 disappeared, and toward that magic line other 
 sails were hastening. To what ports were they 
 bound ? To London ? to Australia ? to Japan ? to 
 some sunny, palm-shaded island of the tropics ? 
 
 How fascinating it was to watch them and 
 speculate concerning them ! 
 
 Suzette at last broke the silence with, " Oh, I 
 wish I could see a mermaid combing her hair, 
 Dick ! " 
 
 "Or a Triton blowing his shell," replied Dick. 
 
 "Or Aphrodite coming out of the water." 
 
 " Or Neptune driving his dolphins." 
 
 " Or a sea-serpent." 
 
 " Or a whale." 
 
 And then they each drew a long breath and 
 laughed, and Dick said : " It looks like a prairie, 
 only it moves and sparkles."
 
 ON THE WAY TO PILGRIM TOWN. 19 
 
 " O Dick ! a prairie ! " replied Suzette reproach- 
 fully. 
 
 Well, it was like a dream come true as they 
 steamed along down that lovely south shore and 
 came by-and-by to the Gurnet with its twin white 
 lights. Around these they swept, giving a wide 
 berth to the rocks lying along shore ; and there on 
 the left was the long arm of sandy beach which 
 
 holds the harbor of Plymouth in its keeping. 
 Sand now, but in 1620, when Carver and Bradford 
 and all that brave Mayflower company, with its 
 women and children, rounded its point, it was 
 covered with thick, green woods. 
 
 As the plank was thrown out, a brown-bearded 
 man sprang across and made his way to where the 
 two were standing. 
 
 " Oh, how did you know us, uncle Tom ? " they 
 exclaimed. 
 
 " Know you ! " and uncle Tom, holding both
 
 2O LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 Suzette's hands in his, stood off and looked at each 
 in turn. " Know you ! Why, you are as like as 
 two peas in a pod, and look exactly like your 
 father and mother both, as good children ought. 
 And now show me your luggage and we '11 go 
 right up to the house. Aunt Pen sighted the 
 Stamford an hour ago with her spy-glass ; knew 
 her by her smoke, and has been watching her ever 
 since and trying to make you out." 
 
 As they walked over the plank a little figure 
 rushed past on to the wharf. As he did so he 
 turned a laughing face upon them. 
 
 "It's the Boston Common boy," said Suzette, 
 as he disappeared around a corner of the fish- 
 market with a whoop!
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 AN EARLY MORNING ON COLE'S HILL. 
 
 Mournfully sobbed the waves at the base of the rocks, and above 
 
 them 
 
 Bowed and whispered the wheat on the hill of death. . . . 
 Yonder there on the hill by the sea lies buried Rose Standish; 
 Beautiful rose of love that bloomed for me by the wayside ! 
 She was the first to die of all who came in the Mayflower! 
 Green above her is growing the field of wheat we have sown 
 
 there. Longfellow. 
 
 AS soon as Suzette awoke the next morning, 
 which was at the instant the sun shot his 
 first golden arrow into her room, she jumped out 
 of bed, ran to a window, drew back the curtain, 
 and looked out. 
 
 As she did so she gave a quick cry of dismay. 
 For all the expanse of blue, sparkling water of the 
 day before had vanished, and nothing was to be 
 seen but black tide mud, with here and there a 
 pool of water. 
 
 What strange thing had happened ? Eager to 
 tell Dick about it, she quickly dressed and ran 
 across the hall to his room. He was already up 
 and dressed, and answered her knock by opening 
 the door.
 
 22 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 "O Dick!" she exclaimed breathlessly, "the 
 sea is all gone ! " 
 
 "Gone, Suzette?" and Dick looked at her as 
 though he thought she had lost her head. " What 
 do you mean ? " 
 
 "Come down and see, Dick." 
 
 They ran down the broad stairs and out under 
 the shade of the pair of great lindens that stood 
 in front of the house. Sure enough, it was gone, 
 and for an instant Dick looked puzzled ; then his 
 face cleared. 
 
 " Why, it 's the tide, Sue ! " he explained. " The 
 tide is out, you know." And then, -as she still 
 looked a little bewildered, he added : " Don't you 
 remember about the tides how they ebb and 
 flow ? When we came the tide was in ; now it is 
 out." 
 
 Suzette gave a sigh of relief. " Oh ! then it 's 
 coming back again. Of course I know ! What a 
 goosey ! " 
 
 " The land's sake, child'en ! be you up ? " said 
 a voice. It was that of Mehitable, who had come 
 to the door, broom and dust-pan in hand. They 
 turned to say "Good-morning." 
 
 They had seen her the night before, and she had 
 told Jason afterwards that they were "the very
 
 ON COLE'S HILL. 2$ 
 
 pictur' of Mr. Richard when he was a boy." Me- 
 hitable's Mr. Richard was their father, and she 
 knew all about his boyhood, for she had lived in 
 the Waterman family ever since she had first en- 
 tered their service as a girl of fourteen, when 
 uncle Tom, the oldest, was a boy of six. She 
 spoke now in a hoarse whisper. 
 
 " Doctor Tom 's be'n out all night, up t' Mani- 
 met," she said. "Ole Mis' Keziah Holmes was 
 took with one o' her spells in the dead o' night. 
 He 's sleepin' now like a baby, an' I should hate t' 
 have him waked up. Jason 's just driv' off th' ole 
 rooster that was crowin' under his winder like all 
 possess." 
 
 "We're going to have a run before breakfast," 
 said Dick. " When do you have breakfast, Me- 
 hitable?" 
 
 "At eight o'clock," answered Mehitable. "But 
 Jason and I have had our 'n. An' you jest come 
 in an' git a bite o' somethin' warm fust. It 's 
 dretful unhealthy to go 'round on an em'ty 
 stomach." 
 
 The "bite of somethin' warm" was served by 
 Mehitable, picnic fashion, on the porch by the 
 kitchen door, and while they ate she talked. 
 
 " Y' take after y'r pa," she said. " Mr. Richard
 
 24 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 was alwa's the beater fr gittin' up early an' goin' 
 off fishin' or gunnin', an' comin' home with a lot 
 o' coots or a string o' rock cod for supper. ' Me- 
 hitable,' he 'd say, ' I '11 jest clean 'em if you '11 fry 
 'em.' Or mebbe he'd want a chewder. 'There 
 ain't a cook in Plymouth can hold a candle t' you 
 f'r makin' chewders, Mehitable,' he 'd say. But 
 lor ! that was b'fore y'r gran'ther sent him t' col- 
 lidge an' vacations. An' after he got through 
 collidge an' th' war, nuthin' would do but he must 
 go travelin', an' he stayed an' stayed, an' when he 
 come home he fetched y'r ma, and went out to 
 that 'ere ranch. It 's consider'ble of a farm, I 
 expect." 
 
 Uncle Tom's house stands upon a high bluff to 
 the right of Long Wharf as you come up the 
 channel, and just across the way, the sunken road 
 lying between, rises the twin bluff of Cole's Hill. 
 It is prettily graded and grassed now, but not 
 many years ago its slope was covered with old 
 buildings. The flat space on the top, behind 
 which runs the street called Carver, forms an 
 esplanade, whereon are graveled walks, with seats 
 from which one can look off over the harbor and 
 bay and all along the Duxbury and Manomet 
 shores.
 
 ON COLE'S HILL. 25 
 
 And here Dick and Suzette sat down upon a 
 seat under the shade of a linden, for even at this 
 early hour of the morning the sun was hot. 
 
 "Do you remember, Dick, that picture of the 
 Mayflower I liked so well papa had it framed for 
 me the little vessel all alone at anchor, and the 
 lovely shores ? " asked Suzette. 
 
 " Yes," replied Dick. " I remember the picture, 
 but this does n't look much like it." 
 
 " No, but I can imagine it, Dick," said Suzette, 
 her eyes growing eager and full of light, as Dick 
 was used to seeing them when she was going to 
 "make believe" something. "I can imagine it. 
 They have just sailed in and cast anchor, and 
 there are 'no friends to welcome them, nor inns 
 to entertain them or refresh their weather-beaten 
 bodies, no houses, nor much less towns, to repair 
 to, to seek for succor ' that always makes me 
 'most cry, Dick ;" and her voice did tremble a bit. 
 " And they had had hard times on Cape Cod, 
 wading about in the snow, and the sleet freezing 
 to their clothes for it was winter, you know, 
 and not like this. They found corn, to be sure, in 
 pretty colors, but the Indians shot at them, and 
 then when some of them were away looking for a 
 place to settle, poor Dorothy Bradford fell over-
 
 26 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 board and was drowned, and her husband was one 
 of those who were away. 
 
 " And those who were away looking for a place 
 to settle came here and liked it so much, and 
 found such running brooks and nice cornfields, 
 that they went back to Cape Cod and told the rest. 
 And then they set sail and come here, and I 
 think I see them, Dick ; and some of them come 
 ashore, and Mary Chilton comes with them, so 
 eager is she to step on the ground again, and so 
 springs first upon the rock ; J and they look up 
 and down and all about, and there is n't a house 
 here, and it is winter, but a little clump of 
 pines, maybe, where uncle Tom's house is now, and 
 blackberry vines and bushes sticking out of the 
 snow just here, Dick, with some oak-trees and the 
 leaves all brown. And then they go back to the 
 Mayflower, and tell them about the 'delicate 
 springs,' and a 'very sweet brook' full of fish, 
 and the land ready for corn that the Indians have 
 cleared ; and so they conclude to land. And, oh ! 
 must n't the children have been glad ? for the 
 
 1 There are differing traditions in regard to that member of the May- 
 flower company who first set foot upon Plymouth Rock. The descend- 
 ants of Mary Chilton claim that it was she; the descendants of John 
 Alden that it was he. The truth unquestionably is that it was neither. 
 Suzette cherished the belief that it was Mary Chilton.
 
 ON COLE'S HILL. 2 7 
 
 Mayflower was so little, and they had been shut 
 up in it so long, only going off when the women 
 washed on Cape Cod. 
 
 " And then they come ashore, one boatful after 
 another, not all on the same day or in the same 
 month ; and can't you imagine you see them, 
 Dick, stepping out upon the rock the very rock 
 down there ? " And in her excitement Suzette 
 stood up, and Dick too. " And there are all the 
 children thirty children just think of it, Dick? 
 and eight of them girls, landing on these lonely, 
 lonely shores in December, and not a house ! 
 
 " Little Ellen More and Damaris Hopkins, 
 Remember Allerton and her sister Mary, and 
 dear little Humilitie Cooper O Dick! I wish 
 I could have known sweet little Humilitie Cooper 
 for I know she was sweet and the two wee 
 babies, Peregrine and Oceanus. 
 
 " Oh, I wish I had been there, Dick, to have 
 seen them!" Suzette went on, quite carried out of 
 herself. "I should like to have just gone down 
 to them, and said, as Samoset did, 'Welcome, 
 welcome, little Pilgrim boys and girls ! ' ' 
 
 Yes, there were thirty children on board the 
 Mayflower when she cast anchor in Plymouth 
 harbor, and the exploits of one of them, Francis 
 Billington, have come down to us in history.
 
 28 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 One day, while the Mayflower was" lying off 
 Cape Cod, and his father, John Billington, was on 
 shore, he got at some gunpowder aad amused him- 
 self making squibs. He rolled bits of paper into 
 cylinders and filled them with the powder. These 
 he lighted and tossed into the air. They went off 
 with a delightful crack-crack and smoke, and must 
 have greatly amused Wrasling Brewster, and Re- 
 solved White, and Henery Samson, and the rest 
 of the boys, though doubtless little Humilitie 
 Cooper and some other of the girls were terrified 
 at the noise and smoke. 
 
 But sending off the squibs did not satisfy the 
 mischievous Francis. He espied his father's fowl- 
 ing-piece hanging upon its hooks, and, knowing it 
 was loaded, he took it down and fired it off. The 
 noise of this brought down the mothers, who were 
 taking the air on deck, and we can easily imagine 
 their dismay when they learned what had been 
 going on. For there was nearly a barrel of gun- 
 powder lying about in different parts of the cabin, 
 and it was "a mercy," as Peregrine's mother re- 
 marked, "that they were not all blown to pieces;" 
 and Governor Bradford says much the same. " We 
 through God's mercy escaped a great danger by 
 the foolishness of a boy," though foolishness seems
 
 ON COLE'S HILL. 2Q 
 
 i 
 
 but a mild term to apply to Francis' performances. 
 But the truth is, doubtless, that he was so tired 
 out with being shut up in such a small space as 
 the Mayflower afforded, for three long months, 
 that he felt he must do something or burst. 
 
 It was thinking of this boy that led Dick to 
 say, after a few moments' silence : 
 
 " Well, I should like to have seen Francis Bill- 
 ington. He must have been a capital fellow to 
 go a-hunting with, he and his brother John, and 
 there were plenty of deer and wolves here then." 
 
 They walked slowly along a graveled path to 
 the opposite side of the esplanade. There a 
 horizontal slab of granite explains that one day 
 some workmen, while digging just here, brought 
 up human bones supposed to be those of Pilgrims 
 who were buried on Cole's Hill during the sad 
 winter of the landing. It is a familiar story, but 
 the pathos of it is perennial. Nearly half the 
 Mayflower company died that first winter, and 
 among them little Ellen More. Governor Carver, 
 who died in March, and over whose grave three 
 volleys of shot were fired, was one of the last, 
 and his tender and sensitive Katherine did not 
 linger long behind, and was buried here too. One 
 of the first graves dug on this hill was for the
 
 30 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 lovely Rose Standish, the wife of the brave and 
 gallant Miles Standish, and around her memory 
 there still lingers a fragrance like that of the 
 pink wild roses which bloom so profusely along 
 these sandy shores. When spring came, with its 
 birds and blossoms and seed-sowing, the remain- 
 ing colonists leveled these graves and planted 
 them with corn, so that the Indians might not 
 know how their numbers had lessened. 
 
 The remembrance of all this cast, for a few 
 moments, a shadow over the sunny June morning, 
 and it was with grave faces that Dick and Suzette 
 walked down the long flight of stone steps which 
 lead to the rock.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 TEDDY OF CLAM-SHELL ALLEY. 
 
 Nobly the Mayflower bows, 
 While the dark wave she plows 
 
 On to the west. 
 Till from the tempest's shock 
 Proudly she lands her flock 
 Where on old Plymouth Rock 
 
 Freedom found rest. 
 
 -^ Rufus Daives. 
 
 "PLYMOUTH ROCK does not lie on the shore 
 washed by the waves, as one would natu- 
 rally expect. A wharf was built over it in 1741, 
 so its top alorie is visible. It used to be in the 
 middle of a black and dusty street and surrounded 
 with dingy warehouses. But not a great many 
 years ago these were all taken down. And now a 
 pretty granite canopy is built over it and it is en- 
 closed by an iron railing, the gates of which are 
 locked at night. 
 
 It is a pity such a precaution should be neces- 
 
 31
 
 32 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 sary, but the rock would long ago have been 
 carried off in tid-bits by tourists, had it not been 
 thus protected. 
 
 Dick tried the gate. " I should like to go in 
 and stand upon it," he said. And that is always 
 the first and natural impulse of every one who 
 sees this rock for the first time. And would it 
 not be amusing, and vastly instructive, too, to see 
 the long procession of people who have stood upon 
 it, beginning with the Pilgrims themselves ? 
 
 I have been told that, once upon a time, two 
 people were married upon this rock. They came 
 from the far west, like Dick and Suzette, and 
 were descendants of some of the Mayflower Pil- 
 grims. The wind was east at the time, so I was 
 told, and the sky gray and leaden, and the cere- 
 mony must have been an exceedingly chilly one. 
 
 But few people were stirring in the vicinity as 
 Dick and Suzette stood leaning upon the railing 
 and looking down upon the bowlder of dark gran- 
 ite. For the famous rock is simply a bowlder, 
 brought down, it is said, in the glacial period, from 
 the neighborhood of Labrador, and so is itself a 
 pilgrim. 
 
 Over the beach and the bay beyond, the white- 
 winged sea-gulls were leisurely flying, having come
 
 TEDDY OF CLAM-SHELL ALLEY. 33 
 
 from their far-off resting-places to fish for their 
 daily rations in shallow waters. The fish-market 
 was open, and smoke was coming out of the black 
 funnel of the galley of a two-masted schooner 
 which lay at a wharf near by. She was the Lucy 
 Jane, freighted with lumber from Wiscasset, 
 Maine. 
 
 A little figure surmounted by a shock of tum- 
 bled hair and a torn and bristling straw hat was 
 moving furtively in and out among the piles of 
 lumber and other merchandise with which the 
 wharf was strewn, and the eyes from under the 
 tumbled hair cast an occasional glance toward the 
 pair standing by the rock. Dick saw the little 
 figure, and recognized it. 
 
 " Halloo ! " he called out. " What are you doing 
 there? " 
 
 The little figure came toward them ; it was the 
 ragamuffin of Boston Common. 
 
 " Do you live here ?" asked Dick. "And what 
 is your name ? " 
 
 " My name 's Teddy," answered the boy, " an' 
 I live in Clam-shell Alley." 
 
 " What were you doing in Boston, then ? Did 
 you run away?" continued Dick, putting him 
 through his catechism in boy fashion.
 
 34 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 " Yes," replied Teddy, grinning, " an' I had a 
 bully time." 
 
 " Who paid your fare ? " 
 
 "Didn't pay no fare. I jest hid among th' 
 truck." 
 
 "Jumped the claim, eh?" and Dick smiled. 
 " Well, what are you hanging about that wharf for, 
 this time in the morning ? " 
 
 "'Cause I see y' come out, an' I wanted t' tell 
 y'r you 's awful good t' gimme that fifty cents ; " 
 and Teddie looked shyly at Suzette. She wore a 
 white frock, and had the sweetness and freshness 
 of the June morning about her. 
 
 " An' what are y' doin' y'self down here this 
 time o' th' mornin' ? " asked Teddy, turning cate- 
 chist in his turn. 
 
 " Looking at the rock," replied Dick. " We 
 never saw it before." 
 
 " 'T ain't much t' look at," replied Teddy, with 
 a contemptuous glance at the sacred stone. " Lots 
 o' folks come t' see it, but I don't see what for. 
 It 's nothin' but an old rock." 
 
 " Why, it 's Plymouth Rock ! don't you know ? " 
 exclaimed Suzette, scandalized at the combined 
 ignorance and irreverence of the little heathen. 
 
 " Oh, yes, I know," said Teddy indifferently.
 
 TEDDY OF CLAM-SHELL ALLEY. 35 
 
 " I 've heard about it. Columbus landed on it 
 when he discovered Ameriky." 
 
 " O Teddy ! " exclaimed Suzette ; and Dick 
 laughed outright. 
 
 " Good for you, Teddy ! " he said. 
 
 "Why, didn't he?" asked Teddy, somewhat 
 taken aback by the way in which his display of 
 learning was received. 
 
 "Oh oh!" cried Suzette, and she darted 
 across the street to the edge of the green slope. 
 She stooped and picked up something, and then 
 came back with a beaming face. 
 
 " See, Dick, see ! a buttercup! " and she held up 
 the tiny yellow cup to her chin. "Do I love but- 
 ter, Dick ? " she asked. " And is n't it a beauty ? " 
 Her eyes sparkled, and her whole expression was 
 that of one who has found a long-desired treasure. 
 
 Teddy looked at her in amazement. He was 
 used to seeing people come and gaze in real or 
 feigned ecstasy at the rock. He had even seen 
 one or two kneel and kiss it. But he had never 
 seen any one " make such a fuss," for so he would 
 have put it, over a buttercup before. 
 
 " If you like them flowers, I can git lots in a 
 jiffy;" and he darted off behind a warehouse near 
 by, presently returning with his chubby, dirty
 
 36 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 hands full of the golden blossoms. " Here they 
 be," he said: and Suzette took them with an eager 
 "Thank you ! How lovely they are ! " 
 
 "Didn't y' never see no buttercups before?" 
 he said, longing to ask where she had lived all her 
 days never to have seen buttercups. 
 
 But he did not feel exactly that freemasonry 
 with her that he did with Dick. A boy was a 
 boy, whether well dressed or not, and Teddy was 
 well acquainted with both kinds. But with a girl 
 so daintily clad and so gentle-mannered as Suzette 
 poor Teddy had never before been brought in con- 
 tact. Girls generally passed him by on the other 
 side, and noticed him only to remark that he was 
 one of " those dreadful boys," which meant, in 
 their vocabulary, that he was often ragged and 
 dirty and spoke ungrammatically. 
 
 " No," replied Suzette, looking smilingly at him. 
 " I never saw a buttercup before ; but papa has 
 told me about them, and how the little New 
 England children try if they love butter with 
 them. We have beautiful flowers in Colorado, 
 but no buttercups ; " and she held them off and 
 looked at them admiringly. 
 
 " Is that where y' live ? t' Colorado ? " asked 
 Teddy.
 
 TEDDY OF CLAM-SHELL ALLEY. 
 
 37 
 
 " Yes," replied Suzette, still smiling at her 
 buttercups. 
 
 " And be y' goin' to stay here a spell ? " asked 
 Teddy. 
 
 "Yes, all summer. And, Teddy," she continued 
 after a moment, " all the time I 'm here I wish you 
 would bring me a bunch of buttercups every day, 
 and I '11 give you five cents a bunch." 
 
 " I '11 bring you the buttercups, but I don't 
 touch no five cents," replied Teddy. " I know 
 where y' be up to Doctor Tom's ; an' Doctor 
 Tom doctors little Bess for nothin'." 
 
 It may as well be explained here that the phrase 
 " Doctor Tom," as used by Teddy, was not one 
 of disrespect. Doctor Tom's father was Doctor 
 Waterman, and in order to discriminate between 
 the two when the older doctor was living, the 
 younger was called " Doctor Tom " and " the young 
 doctor," both of which titles still clung to him. 
 
 "Did you have a good time in Boston?" asked 
 Dick. 
 
 " You bet ! " was the prompt and comprehensive 
 reply. 
 
 " I say," continued Teddy, " what a lot o' folks 
 there be in Boston ! it 's like town-meetin' day. 
 An', jiminy ! ain't the roads crooked ? I thought
 
 38 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 I 'd jest take a little walk an' see what was goin' 
 on, an' fust I knew I did n't know where I was. 
 But I kep' right on, an' by-m-by I saw lots o' folks 
 goin' in t' a big house, and I follered on, an' it was 
 a store chuckful o' all sorts o' jimcracks an' things 
 that women wear. An' I went in t' a little bed- 
 room there was a chap opened th' door kind o' 
 p'lite jest as I was passin', an' I see the other 
 folks goin' in, an' so I went. An' he shut th' door, 
 an', jiminy ! if that bedroom did n't begin t' go 
 up ! I tell you, I was kind o' scared at fust, an' 
 then I see nobody else did n't seem to think 't was 
 queer. An' they kep' gittin' out an' in when th' 
 bedroom stopped. But, says I t' myself, ' You jest 
 stick by, Teddy, an' see how this thing 's a-comin' 
 out.' An' so we went up an' up, an' then we 
 begun to go down, an' then th' chap that tended 
 door looked at me kind o' ugly, an' says he, 
 ' What are y' doin' on here, y' young scamp ? ' 
 An' ' Nothin',' says I. An' he did n't say nothin' 
 more till we got down back, an' then says he, 
 ' Now you skip, or I '11 have th' r/lice after ye ; ' 
 an' I skipt. But wa' n't it queer now ? Did y' 
 ever see one o' them bedrooms ? " 
 
 "Yes," replied Dick; "they're elevators." 
 "Well, I told little Bess about it, an' she said
 
 TEDDY OF CLAM-SHELL ALLEY. 39 
 
 't was jest like Jack's beanstalk, an' if it had only 
 kep' on, mos' likely I should 'a' come out int' 
 Jack's country." 
 
 "Then what did you do?" asked Suzette. "Did 
 you go back to the Stamford?" 
 
 " No ; I did n't know which way t' go, and after 
 what that chap said I dars' n't ask th' p'lice. 
 They was standin' about thick, an' awful p'lite t' 
 th' women-folks, a-helpin' 'em across th' road, an' 
 makin' th' teams stop for 'em ; but I give 'em a wide 
 berth, you bet. ' Likely 's not,' says I t' myself, 
 'they'd shut y' up in jail, an' y' wouldn't never 
 see little Bess no more.' An' by that time 'twas 
 'most sunset, an' I was awful hungry, an' I stopped 
 a boy who was a-yellin' newspapers, an' asked him 
 th' way t' th' wharf where the Stamford was. 
 'You jest foller y'r nose, young un',' says he, 'an' 
 you '11 ketch th' old lady 'f y' don't miss on her.' 
 An' I uas mad, an' if it hadn't 'a' be'n f'r th' 
 p'lice, I 'd 'a' pitched int' him ; but I dars' n't, y' 
 know, so I said nothin'. An' then he yelled out 
 t' another chap across th' road, ' Here 's a green- 
 horn ! Go it, cucumbers ! ' If I ever do ketch 
 that newspaper boy down here, I '11 give him 
 gowdy and smash his nose ! " 
 
 " Well, he deserves it," said Dick sympathetic-
 
 4O LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 ally. " I would n't mind giving him a good punch 
 myself." 
 
 " Would n't y' now ? " asked Teddy, brightening 
 into a smile. 
 
 It gave him great pleasure that this well-grown, 
 well-mannered boy should have a fellow-feeling for 
 him. Well-dressed boys were apt to tease and 
 laugh at him. He did n't care much for their 
 teasing though ; he repaid it in kind. He could 
 give knock for knock. Courtesy for courtesy was 
 not so often required of him. 
 
 Suzette was deeply interested in his narrative. 
 
 " Poor Teddy ! " she said. " And what did you 
 do next ? " 
 
 " Then I come up a road and see a kind o' 
 green, not jest like our green, but bigger, an' it 
 had trees on it, an' a pond, an' a fence round it. 
 An" I was awful tired o' stone roads an' stone 
 houses, an' I jest cut f'r that green. An' I was 
 jest a-goin' in when a p'liceman steps up an' says, 
 'Where d' y' b'long, my son? ' An' then I thought 
 I was a goner ; but says I to myself, ' You jest 
 keep a stiff upper lip, Teddy, an' you '11 come out 
 all right.' So I spoke up, an' says I, 'I b'long t' 
 Plymouth, sir, an' I come up in the Stamford, an' 
 I 'm goin' back t'morrer.' An' then I sidled off
 
 TEDDY OF CLAM-SHELL ALLEY. 41 
 
 quickstep round th' hill where th' moniment was, 
 but I could see him out o' the corner o' my eye 
 a-watchin' me sharp. An' then I went across th' 
 green an' another road an' come to a garding. 
 An', jiminy ! wa' n't them flowers some ! I jest 
 wished little Bess was there ; she 's awful fond o' 
 flowers. An' I walked round an' looked at 'em, 
 an' smelt of 'em, a-keepin' my eye out fr that 
 p'liceman all th' time, you bet ! An' by-m-by it 
 come dark, an' I see a summer-house like Doctor 
 Tom's, with vines a-growin' all over it, an' bushes, 
 an' seats, an' I jest crawled under one o' them 
 seats, an' b'fore you could say Jack Robi'son I was 
 fast asleep, an' when I waked up the sun was 
 a-shinin'. An' I was jest settin' on that seat an' 
 wonderin' what t' do next, an' you come by an' give 
 me that fifty cents. 'T was awful good o' ye ; " and 
 he looked gratefully from Suzette to Dick. 
 
 " And how did you find your way to the Stam- 
 ford at last, Teddy? " asked Dick. 
 
 " Oh, I asked a p'liceman. I had to, y' know, 
 an.' I thought mebbe he would n't touch me if I 
 told him I was goin' right off t' Plymouth. So I 
 asked one, an' he said he was goin' right down 
 that way an' would show me. An' he was jest as 
 sociable as could be, an' got it all out o' me, how 
 I come, an' all. An' he said I must never be
 
 42 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 afraid to cornfide in a p'liceman ; that 's what 
 they was for, t' cornfide in an' show folks how to 
 go. An' then I told him about y'r fifty cents, 
 an' asked him did he think I could buy a doll 
 f'r little Bess an' git somethin' to eat fr fifty 
 cents. An' he said, 'You bet,' an' took me to a 
 place where they had lambs' tongues, an' pies, an' 
 doughnuts. An' I had some, an' it cost fifteen 
 cents. An' then we went to another place, an' he 
 said he knew the woman that kep' it, an' he asked 
 if she had a doll, cheap, for a little girl named 
 Bess ; an' she said she guessed she had, an' 
 fetched it, an 't was twenty-five cents. An' then 
 I got some candy for little Bess with the rest. 
 An' then th' p'liceman went down t' th' wharf, 
 an' says he, ' Good-by, sonny ! You 've got out of 
 it first-rate this time, but don't y' never try it 
 again. An' give my love t' little Bess,' says he." 
 
 As Teddy ended his narrative, Suzette opened 
 her mouth to ask who little Bess was. But at that 
 moment a bell was heard violently ringing, and 
 Jason was seen under the lindens alternately ring- 
 ing and gesticulating. 
 
 " Breakfast is ready," said Dick. " Good-by, 
 Teddy." 
 
 " Good-by," said Suzette. " And don't forget 
 the buttercups, Teddy."
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE SWEETE BROOKE UNDER THE HILL. 
 
 For men may come and men may go, 
 But I go on forever. 
 
 Alfred Tennyson. 
 
 OOME of the allusions in Suzette's rhapsody 
 h-' on Cole's Hill may not be perfectly clear to 
 the reader, and may as well be explained here. 
 
 After the arrival of the Pilgrims at Cape Cod, 
 they got out their shallop a large boat with 
 sails to fit her for an exploring expedition in 
 shallow waters where the Mayflower could not go ; 
 for they were anxious to fix upon a spot to settle. 
 
 But they found the shallop much broken and 
 bruised from the voyage, having been stowed 
 away in the ship, and while waiting for it to be 
 put in order a party of them went out to explore 
 on foot. Each man carried a musket on his 
 shoulder, and wore a heavy sword by his side, and 
 on his breast was a broad, deep plate of steel 
 armor, called a corselet. 
 
 It was while on this expedition that they came 
 
 43
 
 44 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 across the "pretty corn " mentioned by Suzette, 
 and the account of its discovery can not be better 
 told than in their own words : 
 
 " Also we found a great Ketle which had been 
 some ship's Ketle and brought out of Europe, 
 and there was also an heap of sand like the former 
 [some they had found previously], but it was newly 
 done ; we might see how they had padled it with 
 their hands, which we digged up and in it we 
 found a little old Basket full of faire Indian 
 corne, and digged further and found a fine great 
 new Basket full of very faire corne of this year 
 with some 36 goodly ears of corne, some yellow 
 and some red and others mixt with blew which 
 was a very goodly sight. 
 
 " The Basket was round and narrow at the top, 
 it held about three or four bushels, which was as 
 much as two of us could lift up from the ground, 
 and was very handsomely and cunningly made. 
 But whilst we were busy about these things we 
 set our men Sentinelle in a round ring, all but two 
 or three who digged up the corne. We were in 
 suspense what to doe with it and the Ketle and at 
 length after much consultation we concluded to 
 take the Ketle and as much of the corne as we 
 could carry away with us ; and when our Shallop
 
 THE SWEETE BROOKE. 45 
 
 came if we could find any of the people and come 
 to parley with them we would give them the Ketle 
 againe, and satisfy them for their corne [which 
 they did some six months afterwards]. So we 
 tooke all the eares and put a good deale of the 
 loose corne in the Ketle for two men to bring 
 away on a staffe, and they that could put any into 
 their pockets filled the same ; the rest we buried 
 againe." 
 
 And so, as William Bradford writes in his 
 famous history, the story about which you shall 
 hear further on, " like the men of Eshcol, they 
 carried with them of the fruits of the land and 
 showed their brethren." 
 
 Nothing is said of any boys going on this 
 expedition. They remained quietly, or unquietly, 
 on board the Mayflower ; but they would have 
 been admirable associates in this matter of digging 
 up and pocketing the corn ; that is, if these Pil- 
 grim boys had as many pockets as boys of later 
 times. 
 
 They would also have enjoyed an adventure 
 which happened to William Bradford. As the 
 company of explorers were making their way 
 slowly through the woods which covered at that 
 time the greater part of Cape Cod, they came to a
 
 46 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 tree where a " Spritt," or young sapling, was bent 
 down over a bow and some corn strewed under- 
 neath. Stephen Hopkins, the father of the baby 
 Oceanus, who was born at sea, which fact accounts 
 for his name Stephen Hopkins said it was a 
 deer trap, and while they were all gathered around 
 and looking at it, William Bradford came up. He 
 too stopped to examine it, and while he was doing 
 so it suddenly jerked up and caught the future 
 governor by the leg. " It was a pretie devise," 
 the story goes on to say, "made with a rope of 
 their [the Indians'] owne making, and having a 
 noose artificially made as any Roper in England 
 can make, and as like ours as can be." 
 
 But what a pity that such a delightful find as 
 that trap should have been wasted upon those 
 grown men ! What a pity the boys could not have 
 seen it ! I suppose they must have found a good 
 many such traps afterwards in the woods about 
 Plymouth, and learned to make them, too, and so 
 sent the fashion down from generation to genera- 
 tion. For that is exactly the kind of trap set 
 to-day by the boys of the Old Colony for par- 
 tridges, rabbits, and such small game. For, alas ! 
 only a few deer are now to be found in the woods 
 of Plymouth, and those neither boy nor man is 
 allowed to trap.
 
 THE SWEETE BROOKE. 47 
 
 They had their first fight with the Indians, too, 
 on Cape Cod, in which no one was hurt, though 
 the small company of Pilgrims were a good deal 
 frightened at first, most of them having left their 
 firearms on shore. Part of the company of 
 eighteen were on shore, and part on board the 
 shallop, having started out on that exploring 
 expedition which ended at Plymouth Rock. It 
 was early in the morning, and before breakfast. 
 But there was one among them who always had 
 his snap-lock or some other weapon of defence 
 ready at hand, and that was Myles Standish. He 
 was the first to fire upon the attacking Indians. 
 Among the latter was " a lustie man " who " stood 
 behind a tree within half a musket shot and let 
 his arrows flie at them." He shot two arrows, 
 and stood valiantly three musket shots, but when 
 some one took full aim at him, and made the bark 
 and splinters of the tree fly about his ears, he 
 " gave an extraordinary shrieke, and away they 
 wente all of them." 
 
 The Pilgrims followed them for a little way and 
 fired a shot or two just to let them know they were 
 not afraid of them. None of the exploring party 
 was injured, though their coats, which hung up 
 on the barricade of logs and pine boughs they had
 
 48 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 made to keep off wild beasts, were shot through 
 and through with the Indian arrows. They gave 
 God " solemn thanks and praise " for their deliver- 
 ance and gathered up a bundle of the arrows to 
 send to England by the master of the Mayflower. 
 Some of these arrows were headed with brass, 
 some with deer horns, and some with eagles' claws. 
 
 The Pilgrims gave to the spot where they had 
 this fight the quaint name of " The First En- 
 counter," and such it is called in history. 
 
 It was on the night preceding " The First En- 
 counter," that the Pilgrims first heard the Indian 
 war-whoop, which, they said, was a great and 
 hideous cry. They were weary, and were sleep- 
 ing around their camp-fire, when about midnight 
 the cry was heard, and the sentinel called to arms. 
 They fired off a couple of muskets, and, hearing 
 nothing more, concluded it was the cry of wolves. 
 But when, at day-dawning, between prayers and 
 breakfast, it came again, and one of the company 
 came running and shouting " Indians ! Indians ! " 
 they knew what the hideous cry was. Then came 
 the flight of arrows that began "The First En- 
 counter." 
 
 On Cape Cod, too, the women of the Mayflower 
 had their first New England washing-day, setting
 
 THE SWEETE BROOKE. 49 
 
 up their great iron kettles, gypsy fashion, upon 
 the sands, in the neighborhood of what is now 
 Provincetown, and near a small pond which has 
 since disappeared. The men and boys fetched 
 water and cut sweet-smelling juniper wood to 
 feed the fires ; doubtless the girls also helped, and 
 so made a jolly lark of it, as boys and girls even 
 Pilgrim ones know how to make out of work. 
 A fine thing it must have seemed to them to 
 run about and stretch their weary bodies after the 
 long voyage on board that small vessel ! 
 
 It is bad enough nowadays to cross the boister- 
 ous Atlantic with all the comforts of an ocean 
 steamer ; and when the little Mayflower had got 
 fully half-way over, she became so leaky tnat, if it 
 had not been for a great screw brought by one 
 of the Pilgrims from Holland, with which they 
 " buckled," or bent back, one of the great main 
 beams which had cracked, and so tightened her, 
 there is no knowing what might have happened to 
 her, or whether we should ever have heard of Ply- 
 mouth Rock. 
 
 A question may here arise in the mind of the 
 reader a doubt even. How was it possible for 
 these two western children to know so much of 
 the early and minute history of Plymouth as is
 
 50 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 apparent from their conversation on Cole's Hill ? 
 I must go back a little to tell you. 
 
 These two, Dick and Suzette, had never been to 
 school. Isolated upon a great western ranch, 
 their father and mother had been their teachers 
 in all things. They were like the children of the 
 Pilgrims in that respect, for they too, in the earlier 
 years of the colony, were taught by their parents. 
 And Richard Waterman had some old-fashioned 
 notions concerning the training of children, espe- 
 cially as to the books they read. He, with his 
 brother Tom and sister Penelope, had, like the 
 famous Bridget Elia, been allowed to browse at 
 will in their father's library, and the books they 
 read in those early days had been among those 
 of their adult years also. 
 
 So, in selecting books for Dick and Suzette, 
 and the books they read were always carefully 
 selected by their father and mother, such ones 
 were chosen as would always interest them ; such 
 as, every time they read them, they would find 
 fresh pleasure in. And upon the book-shelves in 
 the school-room set apart for their use, and from 
 the windows of which they could look out upon 
 the snow-capped mountains, among Scott's novels 
 and poems, Robinson Crusoe, Pilgrim's Progress,
 
 THE SWEETE BROOKE. 51 
 
 Kingsley's Greek Heroes and Water Babies, Don 
 Quixote, Plutarch's Lives, Andersen's Tales and 
 Hawthorne's Wonder-book, Lanier's Mabinogion, 
 King Arthur, and Froissart, the Iliad, and a score 
 of other books of heroic and romantic life and 
 adventure, among these stood a thin, square 
 volume printed in old style, v for u, and f for s, 
 of antique spelling and phrase, entitled Mourt's 
 Relation ; or, Journal of the Plantation at Ply- 
 mouth. And none of all the books upon those 
 shelves had been read oftener or with greater zest 
 by Dick and Suzette than had this old book. For 
 was not Plymouth, concerning whose early history 
 it had been written, the birthplace and home of 
 the father whom they loved and thought the most 
 perfect of men ? This fact, aside from the book 
 itself, would have been sufficient to create an 
 interest in it. But the book is interesting. It 
 tells, with that attention to detail which is so 
 pleasing to children of every age, from six to 
 sixty, the daily life of the Pilgrims for the first 
 six months ; and in this respect it reads more 
 like Robinson Crusoe than any other book I 
 know. 
 
 So, in the minds of these two, Dick and 
 Suzette, Bradford and Carver and Winslow
 
 52 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 ranked with King Arthur and Sir Galahad, Chris- 
 tian and Hector, Julius Caesar and Ivanhoe. 
 
 In the long winter evenings, too, on that isolat- 
 ed ranch, there was a little reading-club, a family 
 reading-club, the best of all clubs for young peo- 
 ple to belong to, where the father and mother 
 read aloud. And most that has been written con- 
 cerning the Pilgrims, both before and after their 
 arrival in New England, was read at this club. 
 So you see Dick and Suzette had come fully 
 equipped, and had nothing to do but just go 
 around and look at the delicious old places they 
 had read about, without the necessity of a story- 
 book uncle crammed for the occasion. 
 
 And the first thing they did the morning suc- 
 ceeding the interview with Teddy at the rock was 
 to start out, after duly breakfasting, for the pur- 
 pose of finding the " very sweete brooke running 
 under the hillside " which so pleased the Pilgrims. 
 
 Teddy had brought the buttercups early, with 
 the dew still upon them, and Suzette had tucked 
 them into her white frock. 
 
 It was in accordance with her mother's wish 
 that Suzette put on a fresh white frock daily in 
 sweet, bright summer weather. But the frock 
 was so simply made that it was no more difficult
 
 THE SWEETE BROOKE. 53 
 
 to launder than an " old-fashioned tire " so Me- 
 hitable, who felt called upon to apologize for this 
 seeming extravagance on the part of Mrs. Rich- 
 ard, said to black Rose when she handed the 
 seven over to her Monday morning. And so far 
 as Rose was concerned, she would not have minded 
 if there had been seventy. 
 
 The " sweete brooke " is now spanned by a 
 bridge not far from its mouth. It is no longer 
 " sweete," at least not to look at, as Dick re- 
 marked to Suzette. They were leaning over the 
 railing and looking down upon its dark, turbid 
 waters. Innumerable ducks were paddling about 
 in it, and a few geese. A garden or two bordered 
 on the stream, but the greater part of its banks 
 was crowded with buildings. It is tolerably wide 
 just here, and looks more like a pond than a run- 
 ning stream. 
 
 " But how pretty it must have been, Dick, when 
 there were no houses here ! " said Suzette. " Such 
 a little stream, and with clear water, and the her- 
 rings crowding up and filling it full in spring, and 
 round banks, and buttercups and strawberry vines 
 and mayflowers growing. I 'm sure, Dick, may- 
 flowers grew on that bank there, and little Humil- 
 itie Cooper picked them that very first spring after 
 the snow had gone."
 
 54 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH, 
 
 It was difficult for Dick to believe that the shy 
 mayflower had ever grown in this noisy place 
 where the air was filled with the clatter of a mill 
 of some sort and the rough sounds of a forge. 
 But he did not say so. Unlike some brothers, he 
 seldom cast a damper upon Suzette's pretty fancies 
 or imaginings. 
 
 A boat was just starting out below the bridge. 
 Two boys were in her. 
 
 " Have a sail ? " they shouted. 
 
 "Not to-day," was the reply. 
 
 The temptation was strong. The water was 
 blue, the sky clear, and the breeze steady. But 
 they had promised not to go boating until they 
 had learned to swim. And the next morning the 
 swimming lessons were to begin. 
 
 "I say, Suzette," said Dick, "when the horses 
 get here, let 's follow this stream up as far as it 
 goes." 
 
 " But we can't follow a stream here as we can at 
 home," replied Suzette. "The houses and fences 
 are in the way." 
 
 " Well, we can leap the fences and go round the 
 houses, I suppose," said Dick. 
 
 " But perhaps they won't like us to leap their 
 fences."
 
 THE SWEETE BROOKE. 
 
 55 
 
 "Oh, bother!" was Dick's reply. "What a 
 nuisance a fence is, any way ! And does n't it 
 look queer, Sue, to see such little bits of land 
 fenced in ? " 
 
 The narrow street along which they were walk- 
 ing was black with coal dust from the smelting 
 furnaces. The sun fell hot upon it, and the air 
 was close. Over the window of a shabby little 
 house a honeysuckle clambered. And out from 
 the honeysuckle looked a small, pale face. A 
 smile broke over the face as the eyes met 
 Suzette's. 
 
 " Won't you come in ? " asked a child's voice. 
 
 Dick and Suzette stopped and hesitated. It 
 was a little abrupt this invitation to enter a 
 strange house. 
 
 The door stood wide open, however, and the 
 flat door-stone was on a level with the dusty 
 street. It was only a step in, not up, and, after 
 the momentary hesitation, they entered.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 LITTLE BESS. 
 
 I sit me down and think 
 
 Of all thy winning ways; 
 Yet almost wish, with sudden shrink, 
 
 That I had less to praise. 
 
 I,eigh Hunt. 
 
 TT was a small place, but they had been in 
 *- houses quite as small before. The sod-house 
 in which their father and mother had lived when 
 they first went on to the ranch, and which had 
 been carefully preserved, was much smaller. The 
 room, though bare, was clean. 
 
 The little girl whose small face had looked out 
 from the honeysuckle, and whose voice had asked 
 them to enter, did not come forward to greet them. 
 This lack of courtesy surprised Suzette at first. 
 Then she saw that the child was not sitting by 
 the window, as she had supposed, but was lying 
 on a couch, raised so that she could look out. She 
 held out a thin little hand as Dick and Suzette 
 went up to her. 
 
 " I knew who you were the minute I see you," 
 she said, smiling a smile which brought a dimple 
 
 66
 
 LITTLE BESS. 
 
 57 
 
 into either wan cheek. " Teddy told me all about 
 you." 
 
 " And you are " 
 
 " Little Bess," said the child. 
 
 "And is Teddy your brother?" asked Suzette. 
 
 " Oh, no ! " replied the child. " I have n't no- 
 body but my mother. But Teddy is awful good t' 
 me. An' won't you set down an' stay a little 
 while?" she asked, looking at the two wistfully. 
 " I '11 show you my dollies," she added, as Suzette 
 sat down and Dick leaned on her chair. 
 
 Little Bess looked at them for a moment or two 
 without speaking, but smiling all the time. The 
 two pleased her, as they did most people. But 
 Dick's happy boy's face grew grave as he looked 
 at her. Such a helpless little creature as this was 
 new not only to his experience, but to his imagi- 
 nation. He had never even dreamed that in this 
 beautiful world, so full of enjoyment and activity 
 for him, there could be found such a childhood 
 as this. She apparently could move only her 
 head and arms. The rest of her body was 
 strapped to a wooden frame. 
 
 " I like you ;" and she nodded her head confiden- 
 tially. " You look so good and strong, and and 
 so nice." And she looked Suzette over, from her
 
 58 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 pretty straw hat with its bunch of daisies to her 
 trim walking-boots. "An' you look just alike, 
 just as Teddy said you did. Are you twins ? I 
 never saw twins before. It must be so nice to be 
 twins." 
 
 "Them are my dolls," she said, pointing to a 
 row that stood leaning against a box upon the 
 table before her. There were twenty of them, of 
 all sizes and ages, from an extremely grimy and 
 ancient rag-baby to the latest arrival the one 
 Teddy had bought in Boston. 
 
 " That one," pointing to the ancient rag-baby, 
 "was my very firstest one. I had it when I was a 
 baby myself. Her name is Arabella, an' mother 
 wants to burn her up ; she 's so dirty, she says. 
 But I can't have one o' my family burnt up just 
 because she's dirty. That would be cruel." 
 
 She spoke gravely, though Dick fancied he saw 
 a little twinkle of amusement in her eyes. It 
 interested him. Was it possible that she liked 
 fun ? 
 
 "An' that," she said, pointing to another with 
 
 very red cheeks and a tinsel crown upon her head 
 
 - " that is Queen Victory. P'r'aps you think I 
 
 don't know nothin' about Queen Victory, but I 
 
 do. I 've got a little book all about her, Miss
 
 LITTLE BESS. 59 
 
 Penelope give me, an' I like her. She 's good t' 
 little girls. 
 
 "An" that one," pointing to a small rubber 
 specimen that cried when squeezed, " is a very 
 naughty child that cries all th' time, and makes 
 her mother sights o' work. An' her name is 
 Squawleena. Doctor Tom said that was a good 
 name for her. An' that 's her mother, Mis' Jack- 
 son, next to her. See how poor an' old she is, 
 just on account o' Squawleena's bein' so naughty." 
 
 The "mother" doll had been originally stuffed 
 with sawdust, but had sprung a leak and lost 
 some of it, which really was the cause of the ema- 
 ciated and wrinkled appearance which little Bess 
 was pleased to attribute to Squawleena's naughti- 
 ness. 
 
 "An' that," she continued, pointing to a jolly 
 little doll with almond-shaped eyes and the black- 
 est of hair, " is Miss Japonica. She 's from Japan, 
 you know, an' Doctor Tom named her. An' he 
 says that 's the way little Japan girls look. 
 
 "An' that one," indicating a crippled creature 
 with one arm, one leg, and one eye only, " is Betsy 
 Prig. She was a-settin' on th' floor one day she 
 had be'n naughty an' tumbled off, you know 
 an' in rushed a big, dreadful lion out o' th' woods,
 
 6O LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 an' bit her an' shook her an' shook her, an' I 
 screamed, an' Teddy run in an' drove off the 
 lion, but poor, dear Betsy Prig was all bit up, an' 
 I felt awfully, an' when Doctor Tom came I asked 
 him if he could n't make her well again. An' he 
 said he could n't make her a new eye, or a new leg, 
 or a new arm, but he guessed if I bathed her an' 
 kep' her quiet she 'd heal up. An' he gave me 
 some arnica to bathe her with. 
 
 " The lion, you know, was just a little dog, but I 
 play 't was a lion, 'cause playin' things makes 'em 
 so interestinV' 
 
 This last remark was made in a confidential 
 tone, and it went quite to Suzette's heart. Here, 
 then, was somebody else who liked to make be- 
 lieve things, as well as herself. And although she 
 did not understand why it should, the very thought 
 made her almost cry. And Suzette is not the 
 kind of girl that cries at every little thing either. 
 But she bravely overcame the impulse, and said : 
 
 " I think it 's great fun to make believe. I do 
 it myself, lots ; don't I, Dick ? Oh, do tell us 
 some more ! " 
 
 "An' that," little Bess went on, pointing to a 
 pretty, pink-cheeked doll whose eyes had somehow 
 disappeared " that is Dottie Dimple. She had
 
 LITTLE BESS. 6 1 
 
 the very loveliest, loveliest blue eyes that ever 
 you did see, an' 'cause she was naughty, an' would 
 not try to learn to read, they just faded all out. 
 That 's what Doctor Tom says happens to things 
 if you don't use 'em, an' I kep' tellin' her so ; but 
 she would n't. That 's what Doctor Tom said 
 when it hurt me so to move my arms. ' You must 
 try, little Bess,' says he, 'or they'll get so bad 
 you can't use 'em ever.' An' I alwa's do just as 
 Doctor Tom says. An' it don't hurt me much 
 now." She said this with a sunny smile. 
 
 And did moving those thin little hands hurt 
 her ? Dick, who was intently watching her as 
 she talked on about her dolls, more to Suzette 
 than to him, felt he could not bear it much longer. 
 If she would only cry about it, it would be easier, 
 because then he could pity her. But she seemed 
 so dreadfully happy ! That is what he would have 
 said if he could have put his feelings into words. 
 
 "An' that doll," continued little Bess, with 
 great animation, pointing to the very biggest of 
 them all, a rag-doll of home manufacture, a roly- 
 poly, fat creature with a broad, smiling countenance 
 " that is Marietta Tintoretta Tin Ton Territo 
 Wilhelmina Angelina Wilkins Smith ; " and she 
 laughed as merrily as a bobolink sings. " Is n't it
 
 62 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 funny ? I named her all myself. An' sometimes 
 Doctor Tom comes in an' says, ' An' how is Queen 
 Victory, an' Arabella, an' Squawleena, an' Betsy 
 Prig, an' Mis' Jackson, an' Cinderella, an' Mother 
 Hubbard, an' Sally Jane, an' Miss Kick-a-poo, an 
 Marietta Tintoretta Tin Ton Territo Wilhelmina 
 Angelina Wilkins Smith ? ' an' he says it so fast 
 an' so funny I almost die a-laughin'." And again 
 the laughter bubbled out, and this time so irresist- 
 ibly that Dick and Suzette could not have helped 
 joining in if they had tried. A carriage-full of 
 solemn-faced people who were passing by looked 
 in astonishment at the honeysuckle-shaded win- 
 dow from which such delightful laughter was 
 issuing. 
 
 " An' that," resumed little Bess, turning once 
 more to the matter in hand, after they had stopped 
 laughing for sheer want of breath "that is little 
 Violet." 
 
 She pointed to a small doll which they had not 
 before seen, the huge bulk of Marietta Tmtoretta 
 having shut her off from their observation. This 
 doll was strapped to a little frame the exact copy 
 of the one in which little Bess herself lay. 
 
 " She 's sick, you know, an' has to be put in that 
 so she can grow straight an' nice. Doctor Tom
 
 LITTLE BESS. 63 
 
 fixed her ; I asked him to. But she don't like it, 
 an' she fusses. An' I have to talk to her real 
 hard sometimes. She thinks it 's too bad she 
 can't run round like Squawleena an' Japonica an' 
 the rest o' the little girls. An' I tell her she must 
 be patient an' wait, an' p'r'aps by-m-by she '11 git 
 well. An' I tell her she has lots o' nice things : a 
 mother to take care o' her that's her mother, 
 Mis' Patty Mullikin, a-standin' by her and Doc- 
 tor Tom to doctor her an' tell her stories, an' lots 
 o' folks to be good to her, an' a honeysuckle t' 
 smell sweet, an' th' sun t' shine in, an' a kitty, an' 
 such a nice, nice, splendid Teddy ! But she 's a 
 very, very ungrateful child ! " 
 
 At this point Dick turned abruptly and walked 
 to the door. He could not stand it another min- 
 ute longer. This unconscious revelation, this lay- 
 ing bare so innocently her own feelings by little 
 Bess was the last straw. As he stood in the door 
 he looked steadily out at the dingy old building 
 opposite. There was a woman at one of its 
 windows, who wondered who that nice boy could 
 be over to Mis' Parker's. But Dick did not see 
 her. There was a mist before his eyes and a lump 
 in his throat. 
 
 Little Bess, whose eyes had been fixed reprov-
 
 64 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 ingly upon the ungrateful Violet, turned them 
 upon Dick inquiringly as he walked away. He 
 stood with his back turned to her so she could not 
 see his face. What was the matter with him ? 
 She wondered whether she had said something to 
 displease him. Did he not like her telling them 
 about her dolls ? Her face grew grave, but 
 before she could ask, Suzette came to the res- 
 cue. With true womanly instinct she divined 
 at once what was in Dick's heart, and, crowding 
 back the tears which again threatened to be too 
 much for herself, she spoke quickly and cheerfully. 
 
 " Which is the doll Teddy bought you in Bos- 
 ton ? " she asked. 
 
 At this question the smile returned to little 
 Bess's face, and Dick, having gained control of 
 himself, and, boy-like, feeling a little ashamed, 
 perhaps, of the loss of that self-control, for 
 ought not a boy of thirteen to be equal to most 
 things ? came back to his stand by Suzette's 
 chair. 
 
 " That is it. Take it up, please," said little 
 Bess. 
 
 And Suzette took up and examined the pretty 
 little creature, with its soft, fluffy hair and fashion- 
 able attire. It looked as though it were worth a
 
 LITTLE BESS. 65 
 
 good deal more than the twenty-five cents Teddy 
 had paid for it. And Suzette wondered in her 
 own mind whether there had not been an under- 
 standing between the saleswoman and the good 
 policeman, and whether the latter had not paid 
 the balance of the price out of his own pocket. 
 Who knows ? nobody but the two themselves, if 
 he did do it. But if he did, it will surely be 
 remembered as one of those deeds of which it is 
 written : " Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one 
 of the least of these, my brethren, ye have done 
 it unto me." 
 
 " And have you named her ? " asked Suzette. 
 
 "Yes; her name's Theodora Stamford," replied 
 little Bess. " I told Miss Brewer if 't had be'n a 
 boy doll I 'd 'a' named it for Teddy ; an' she said 
 Theodora was the girl's name for Teddy. An' I 
 named her Theodora Stamford, you know, 'cause 
 she come in the Stamford. I never see th' Stam- 
 ford, but I hear her whistle ev'ry day, an' some- 
 times I see some of the folks not very often 
 though. They don't come down here much. 
 Teddy says they go an' look at a big rock an' set 
 on th' hill an' eat. Don't you think it 's a nice 
 name?" and she looked at Suzette confidingly. 
 
 " I think it 's a lovely name," replied Suzette
 
 66 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 heartily. " But do you stay alone here ? " she 
 asked, having neither seen nor heard any one 
 moving about the small house. 
 
 " 'Most always," replied little Bess. " My 
 mother has to go out to do washing and work. 
 But I don't mind ; I ain't lonesome. Most all 
 th' folks know me, an' when they go by they look 
 in the window an' say, 'An' how are you t'-day, 
 little Bess ? ' an' that 's company, you know. An* 
 there 's th' dolls to make b'lieve about, an' my 
 books." 
 
 There was a light frame attached to the couch 
 in some way, upon which lay a child's magazine ; 
 and this frame was just high enough and near 
 enough so little Bess could turn the leaves easily. 
 
 "I can read," she said, with an expression of 
 pride on her small face. " Miss Brewer learned 
 me. An' there 's kitty for company." 
 
 As if in response to her words, a great yellow 
 cat jumped in at the window. He had a blue 
 ribbon around his neck, to which was attached a 
 tiny brass bell, an exact copy of the old Liberty 
 Bell at Philadelphia, even to a crack in its side. 
 He at once sprang up by little Bess and began to 
 rub his head against her cheek and purr. The 
 eyes he turned inquiringly upon the two visitors 
 were pure gold in color.
 
 LITTLE BESS. 67 
 
 " He 's Miss Brewer's cat, an' he comes t' see 
 me ev'ry day, an' stays a good long while. Ain't 
 he a beauty ? An' his name 's Colonel Archibald 
 Yell. An' ain't it a funny name? He's named 
 for a great soldier, Miss Brewer says. Colonel 
 Archibald Yell," and she held up a finger, " ring 
 your bell ! " and the musical ting-a-ling-ling an- 
 swered to a vigorous shake of the yellow warrior's 
 head. 
 
 " Oh ! he 's sights o' company. No ; I ain't 
 lonesome ever. Why, I cant be, you know ! " 
 
 As Dick and Suzette walked away through the 
 dusty street, after promising little Bess to come 
 again, they stopped and looked back at the small 
 gray house with its honeysuckle-shaded window. 
 
 " Is n't it dreadful, Dick ? " said Suzette. 
 
 " Yes ; do you suppose Uncle Tom can't cure 
 her?" 
 
 "If he could, I am sure he would," said Suzette. 
 
 "Well, come," said Dick, for Suzette was look- 
 ing sadly grieved, an unusual expression for her 
 bonny face, and one he did not like to see. 
 " Let 's go up Leyden Street and see what we 
 can find. It 's the street of the ' seven lights,' 
 you know."
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE STREET OF THE SEVEN HOUSES. 
 
 So they lefte ye goodly and pleasante citie, which had been theit 
 resting place near 12 years; but they knew they were pilgrimes, 
 and looked not much on those things, but lift up their eyes to 
 ye heavens, their dearest countrie, and quieted their spirits. 
 William Bradford. 
 
 Till he beheld the lights in the seven houses of Plymouth, 
 Shining like seven stars in the dark and mist of the evening. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 T EYDEN STREET is the oldest street in 
 * ' Pilgrim Town. When De Rassiere saw it 
 in 1627 he said it was about a cannon-shot long, 
 and it was the same length then that it is now. 
 
 It was called First Street by the Pilgrims, and 
 then Broad Street ; though why it should have 
 been called Broad Street it is impossible to say, 
 unless because it was so narrow. 
 
 The name of Leyden was given to it in 1823, in 
 memory of Leyden, "a faire and beutifull citie 
 and of a sweet situation," where, as the quotation 
 from Bradford's History at the head of this chap- 
 ter tells you, the Pilgrims had lived during the
 
 STREET OF THE SEVEN HOUSES. 69 
 
 twelve years preceding their emigration to Ply- 
 mouth. 
 
 At the left, as you come up the slope from the 
 water-side, stood the Common House, the first 
 building put up by the Pilgrims, made of logs, 
 filled in between the logs with clay mortar, and 
 thatched with reeds and rushes from the borders 
 of the brooks and ponds. This house took fire 
 January 14. The women and children were still 
 on board the Mayflower and were greatly terrified 
 when they saw the flames streaming up from the 
 thatched roof, thinking the Indians had made an 
 attack. Governor Carver and William Bradford 
 were lying in the house ill, and barely escaped 
 with their lives. The dreadful sickness which 
 carried off so many had already begun. The 
 women and children had to stay on board the 
 vessel until the little log-houses were ready for 
 them. Of course the children must have come 
 on shore daily to play and work too. But his- 
 tories, unfortunately, do not say much about the 
 children, and so we have to guess about them. A 
 square white house now stands upon the spot, 
 with an inscription upon one corner telling the 
 visitor that here is the site of the Common 
 House.
 
 70 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 Suzette, coming slowly up the hill and still 
 thinking of little Bess, suddenly caught sight of 
 this inscription, and her face at once brightened. 
 She seized Dick's arm, and they both stopped and 
 stood a moment or two looking up and down the 
 street. Not a person was to be seen in it, but up 
 at the end in the Town Square people were pass- 
 ing to and fro under the shade of the great elms, 
 and a crowd waited at the doors of the post-office, 
 where the morning's mail was being opened. 
 That building stands upon the lot once owned 
 and occupied by Governor William Bradford. 
 
 It required all Suzette's powers of making believe 
 to bring back the street of 1621 as she looked up 
 and down at the neat, well-blinded houses, all of 
 them having a modern air with the exception of 
 one delightful big old house which looked as if it 
 might have been almost two hundred years old, 
 and had a gambrel roof and massive chimney. 
 
 On the first page of the Old Colony Records is 
 a plan of this street as it probably looked two 
 hundred and sixty-five years from that very morn- 
 ing, and here it is : 
 
 " Moorsteads and garden-Plotes of those which 
 came first, layed out 1620."
 
 STREET OF THE SEVEN HOUSES. 
 
 NORTH SIDE. 
 
 THE SOUTH SIDE. 
 
 PETER BROWN. 
 JOHN GOODMAN. 
 MR. WM BREWSTER. 
 
 HIGE WAY. 
 
 JOHN BILLINGTON. 
 MR. IZAACK ALLERTON. 
 FRANCIS COOKE. 
 EDWARD WINSLOW. 
 
 There are the seven houses which held the 
 "seven lights" we read about in Longfellow's 
 Courtship of Miles Standish. Beyond the seven 
 houses stood the Common House. 
 
 And down this street Samoset came that April 
 morning in 1621, walking fearlessly toward the 
 Common House, and saying, " Welcome, welcome, 
 Englishmen ! " 
 
 They did not let him enter, however, for reasons 
 of their own, but took him to another house, 
 where he was feasted with " strong drink, bisket, 
 butter, cheese, pudding, and a piece of mallard " 
 (duck), all of which he found extremely good. 
 And then, by way of cementing their friendship 
 still more firmly, they "drank" tobacco together,
 
 72 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 or, as we should say, smoked. And when he went 
 away they gave him a knife, a bracelet, and a ring. 
 
 It was on this street too, doubtless, somewhere 
 near the governor's house, that certain men, who 
 came over after the Mayflower Pilgrims, played 
 " stoole-ball " and " pitch-the-barr " on a Christ- 
 mas day, because, as they said, their consciences 
 would not permit them to work on that day. But 
 when Governor Bradford found them at their 
 games he ordered them into their own houses, 
 saying that, if their consciences would not permit 
 them to work, neither would his conscience suffer 
 him to allow them to play while others worked. 
 
 For the Pilgrims made nothing of Christmas. 
 They thought it a Papist festival, and they hated 
 everything Papistical, and with good reason, too, 
 as you will learn in reading history. So there was 
 no bringing in of the boar's head nor burning of 
 the yule log in Pilgrim Town ; no singing of waits 
 or hanging of the mistletoe on Christmas day, as 
 in the Old England whence they had fled. And 
 the children knew nothing of the hanging of 
 stockings by the great open fire-places, nothing of 
 the sweet myth of Santa Claus or of the Christ- 
 mas-tree with its Christ-child. 
 
 Dick and Suzette walked slowly up the street,
 
 STREET OF THE SEVEN HOUSES. 73 
 
 looking at everything, seeing everything with that 
 power of quick observation they had acquired by 
 living so much out-of-doors. For when riding at 
 home and they spent hours every day in the 
 saddle upon the backs of their Indian ponies 
 they were always on the lookout. They never 
 knew what might turn up the next minute 
 whether a jack rabbit, a brown bear, a gray wolf, 
 a stray buffalo, or a wild Indian. And they had, 
 consequently, in the lift of their heads, something 
 of the alertness of wild forest creatures who are 
 ever on the watch ; something of the eager look 
 of the deer. Their whole appearance, in fact, was 
 totally unlike that of the town-bred or even of 
 the country-bred New England boy or girl. 
 
 And they were so curiously alike. Just the 
 same height to the hundredth part of an inch, the 
 same dark eyes and waving brown hair, and they 
 walked off with the same free step. 
 
 So as they passed up through Town Square, it 
 was no wonder the crowd at the post-office ques- 
 tioned each other as to who they were and where 
 they came from. It was soon understood that 
 they were the grandchildren of old Dr. Waterman, 
 whose memory is still green in that region. And 
 the men and women, some of whom had come
 
 74 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 from far-off Cedarville and Long Pond to barter 
 their produce, followed the two with kindly eyes 
 as they went up the broad, concreted way leading 
 to the summit of Burial Hill. 
 
 " Reg'lar chips o' th' old block," said one. 
 "That's jest th' way th' old doctor used t' step 
 off." 
 
 A good many people were on the hill that 
 morning, rambling about in the well-kept paths. 
 The Stamford was in, and a party of excursionists 
 who had come in her were searching for the graves 
 of John Alden and Rose Standish. The grave of 
 the former is unknown, and the latter was buried, 
 as we know, on Cole's Hill. So their quest was a 
 fruitless one. But they did not seem to mind. 
 They sat down upon a zinc-covered seat and ate 
 peanuts, littering the grass with the shells. 
 
 Upon one of the many seats and under the 
 shade of an elm, Dick and Suzette were surprised 
 to find Teddy, who grinned broadly in reply to 
 Dick's "Halloo!" 
 
 "Why aren't you in school, Teddy?" asked 
 Dick. " Is it vacation ? " 
 
 " Not quite," replied Teddy. "But I ain't a-goin' 
 no more." 
 
 " Why not ? "
 
 STREET OF THE SEVEN HOUSES, 75 
 
 " 'Cause I hate it," was the prompt reply. 
 
 Dick had never been to school, as we know, 
 but he had always thought it must be uncommonly 
 jolly fun to do so ; and he felt that there must 
 be some mistake. 
 
 "Come now, Teddy," he remonstrated; "you 
 don't mean you 're playing truant ? . That 's 
 mean." 
 
 " She 's mean." 
 
 "Who?" 
 
 "Teacher." 
 
 " Why, what has she done ? " 
 
 " She said she 'd settle with me to-night. An' 
 I know what that means, you bet a lickin' ; an' I 
 jest skipt, an' I ain't goin' no more, for I wa' n't t r 
 blame." 
 
 " And what had you been doing ? " 
 
 " Nothin'." 
 
 "Nothing?" 
 
 "Nothin' t' be licked for." 
 
 Suzette, who had been looking about her at the 
 old gray tombstones, many of them gay with 
 patches of orange-colored lichens, stooped to read 
 the quaint inscription upon one and then upon 
 another, and so, moving unconsciously further and 
 further on, left Dick and Teddy by themselves.
 
 76 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 Then Dick sat down upon the seat by Teddy 
 and said : 
 
 " Come now, Teddy, tell me all about it. What 
 was the teacher going to keep you after school 
 for?" 
 
 "Well," said Teddy, moved to confidence by 
 Dick's friendliness, "you know that little bantam 
 o' mine ? no, you don't, nuther," correcting him, 
 self. "But I 've got one, an' he 's awful spunky. 
 He 's a Seabright bantam, and he looks jest like a 
 little hen don't have none o' them long tail- 
 feathers. He follers me round ev'rywheres when 
 he ain't shut up, and goes over t' see little Bess, 
 an' walks in jest as peart an' hops ont' th' table 
 an' crows. An' little Bess thinks he 's splendid. 
 An' his name 's Dot little Bess named him out 
 of a story Miss Brewer told her. 
 
 "An' yest'd'y I forgot t' shut him up, an' he 
 follered me, an' I did n't see him till I got t' th' 
 school-house. An' th' bell was a-ringin', an' I 
 had n't time t' go back, an' I dar's n't leave him 
 outside, f'r th' high-school boys would 'a' killed 
 him, like's not. An' so I jest tucked him under 
 my jacket an' carried him' an' shut him int' my 
 desk. 
 
 "An' then I forgot all about him, an' when
 
 STREET OF THE SEVEN HOUSES. 77 
 
 teacher said ' Books ! ' I opened my desk wide, an' 
 out he flew them Seabrights 're awful high fliers 
 an' lit right on teacher's head. She was 
 a-comin' down th' aisle, an' wa' n't she mad ! She 
 give him a whack, an' he was awful scared, an' 
 flew an' upset Bobby Sears' ink, an' then flew up 
 ont' th' blackboard, an' there he set pantin' like 
 everything. 
 
 " An' then teacher says, says she, ' Who fetched 
 that hen in here?' an' nobody says nothin'. An' 
 then she said ag'in, ' Th' one that fetched that hen 
 in will jest speak out an' tell, or I '11 ask ev'ry one 
 o' y' singly.' An' nobody said nothin' ag'in. An' 
 then she said, ' Thomas Niles, did you fetch that 
 hen in here ? ' an' he said, ' No,' an' so ev'rybody 
 said. An' by-m-by she come t' me, an' ' Theo- 
 dore Martin,' says she, 'did you fetch that hen 
 in ? ' an' ' No,' says I, an' I did n't tell no lie, for 
 I did n't fetch him, an' he wa' n't a hen nuther. 
 An' then she went on, an' ev'rybody said ' No.' 
 
 "'Somebody's told a lie,' says she, 'an' if I 
 find out who 't is I shall punish him severely.' An' 
 then that nasty little telltale of a Molly Malony 
 speaks up an' says, 'That 's Teddy Martin's hen.' 
 
 " An' then teacher says to me, ' Is that so, 
 Theodore ? Does that hen b'long t' you, an' did
 
 78 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 you fetch it, an' have you told a lie ? ' An' then 
 I had t' say, ' It b'longs t' me, but I ain't told no 
 lie. I did n't fetch him he come hisself. An' 
 he ain't a hen he's a rooster.' An' then Dot 
 up an' crowed right on top o' th' blackboard just 
 as loud ! An' then teacher says, ' You can take 
 him home, Theodore, an' I '11 settle with you to- 
 night.' An' I ain't a-goin' to be settled with, for 
 I ain't done nuthin', now have I ? " and he looked 
 up at Dick. 
 
 Under other circumstances, without thinking, 
 perhaps, Dick might have said "No," and laughed. 
 But appealed to in this way, he felt his respon- 
 sibility, and after a few moments' thought, he 
 spoke : 
 
 " Of course, Teddy, you were n't to blame for 
 Dot following you ; you could n't help that. 
 Perhaps it would have been better to have told 
 the teacher all about it and asked her to let you 
 carry him home." 
 
 "But she would n't," broke in Teddy. " She 'd 
 'a' told me t' leave him out-o'-doors, jest as she 
 did Allie Prince's kitty. An' Allie never see her 
 no more." 
 
 " Well, perhaps so," said Dick. " But I think 
 you ought to have owned up, Teddy. It 's mean 
 to tell lies."
 
 STREET OF THE SEVEN HOUSES. 79 
 
 ("But I did n't tell a lie. I did n't fetch him, 
 an' 't wa' n't a hen," remonstrated Teddy, putting 
 himself behind double entrenchments, as it were. 
 
 Dick smiled, seeing which, Teddy brightened. 
 
 " But, Teddy, my mother says that trying to 
 deceive, trying to make a person believe a thing 
 is n't when 't is, or is when it is n't, is one kind of 
 lying. I can't explain it exactly, but I think my 
 mother would say you told a kind of a lie. What 
 did your mother say when you told her about it ? " 
 
 " I ain't got no mother," said Teddy ; and his 
 face clouded. 
 
 He was disappointed. He had hoped Dick 
 would be his champion, and strengthen him in his 
 resolution of not going back to school. 
 
 As to Dick, he was suddenly silenced. New ex- 
 periences seemed to be crowding upon him too 
 thickly so thickly as to quite take his breath 
 away. Coming out from his happy, sheltered child- 
 hood, where he had known nothing of real sorrow or 
 pain, he had first been confronted by the sad help- 
 lessness of little Bess, and now with the problem 
 of the motherless Teddy. 
 
 No mother ! And what was a boy going to do 
 without a mother to go to, he should like to know? 
 What would he do ? He had written a long letter
 
 8O LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 to his mother that very morning. He wrote to her 
 every day, and she to him. 
 
 Sunny and blue lay the ocean to the east and 
 north and south. A robin sang in the elm above 
 them. A party of girls, leaning upon the railing 
 round the Cushman monument, chattered and 
 laughed as though there were no such thing in 
 the world as a motherless boy. 
 
 For several moments the two sat without speak- 
 ing. Then Dick aroused himself, and the look he 
 turned upon Teddy was full of sympathy. 
 
 " Well, Teddy," he said heartily, " if you have 
 n't got any mother, I guess you '11 have to do as 
 my mother thinks. And I know she 'd say you did 
 wrong and ought to apologize, and" - hesitating 
 a little at the harsh sentence " take the conse- 
 quences, even if it 's a licking." 
 
 Teddy looked at him in dismay. 
 
 " Ye don't really mean it now, do ye ? " he said. 
 " D' ye s'pose y'r mother 'd be that hard on a 
 feller?" 
 
 " She always says I must take the consequences 
 when I do wrong," was the reply. 
 
 " Well, now, I don't s'pose you ever did nothin' 
 ye 'd ought n't to tell a lie, nor get mad, nor 
 nothin' ? " said Teddy. 
 
 Dick laughed outright.
 
 STREET OF THE SEVEN HOUSES. 8 1 
 
 "You'd better ask my mother!" he said. 
 " Why, I 've an awful quick temper, Teddy. I 
 caught Black Jo riding Pepito one day, and I just 
 gave him a sound thrashing. And mother made 
 me go and apologize to him, a little black fellow 
 no bigger than I, and I hated to, at first, awfully. 
 But mother talked and talked until I wanted to. 
 That 's the way mothers do. They don't make 
 you do a thing ; they make you want to do it." 
 
 "Mothers must be awful nice," said poor 
 Teddy. 
 
 " I tell you, Teddy," Dick went on hastily, 
 "you'll feel better after it's over. A fellow 
 always feels tremendous mean when he 's done 
 what he ought n't to. And when I get mad I 
 always feel better after I 've apologized. Mother 
 says it 's manly to own up. Come, Teddy, just do 
 it now. Just go and tell the teacher all about it, 
 and don't think about what the consequence '11 be. 
 If it 's a licking, take it like a man. You '11 feel 
 better after it." 
 
 If Teddy had not much confidence in Dick's 
 philosophy, he had a good deal in Dick, which 
 amounts to the same thing. And so, after a 
 moment's thought, he said : 
 
 " I '11 do it ; I '11 jest do it." 
 
 "All right, and good luck to you ! " said Dick.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 SUZETTE GIVES TEDDY A HISTORY LESSON. 
 
 The Pilgrim Fathers are at rest. 
 
 When summer 's throned on high 
 And the world's warm breast is in verdure drest, 
 
 Go, stand on the hill where they lie; 
 The earliest ray of the golden day 
 
 On that hallowed spot is cast, 
 And the evening sun as he leaves the world 
 
 Looks kindly on that spot last. Pierpont. 
 
 A S Dick and Teddy got up from their seat 
 * * after the conversation given in the last 
 chapter, Suzette came to 
 meet them, all aglow with 
 a fresh discovery. As I 
 have said before, she 
 knew the old Pilgrim 
 town well through books 
 and photographs, and 
 everywhere she went she 
 recognized some feature of 
 
 it. This time it was the site of the fort, which 
 was a fort and meeting-house combined, and which 
 
 82
 
 A HISTORY LESSON. 83 
 
 gave to the hill its first name of Fort Hill. It 
 was built of " thick sawn planks stayed with oak 
 beams," and had a flat roof upon which cannon 
 were mounted. These commanded the country 
 round about, and protected the street of houses. 
 These houses were further protected by a stock- 
 ade of stout planks built around the gardens, 
 forming a complete defence, and the streets were 
 closed every night by stout gates, to keep out wild 
 beasts and marauding Indians. On this fort a 
 constant watch was kept. 
 
 There were not many Indians just here when 
 the Pilgrims came, for they had died off by pesti- 
 lence only a few years before. But the Wampa- 
 noags and Nausets and Namaskets were not far off. 
 And some of them were disposed to carry off what 
 they might find of the possessions of the Pil- 
 grims, and had stolen the tools of Myles Standish 
 and Francis Cooke one day when the latter were at 
 work in the woods. 
 
 As to wild beasts, two men who were lost and 
 stayed out all night in the woods said they heard 
 lions roaring ; which was a mistake, of course. 
 They placed themselves at the foot of two very 
 large trees so that if the lions appeared they could 
 run up quickly and be out of their reach. But
 
 84 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 wolves were plenty. John Goodman, having gone 
 out one day to exercise his lame feet, lamed by 
 the extreme cold, was so unlucky as to meet two 
 large ones. They chased his little dog, a " span- 
 nell," who took refuge with his master. And the 
 latter, having in his hand a bit of paling only for 
 defense, faced them. But they did not offer to 
 touch him. They sat down on " their tayles and 
 grinned at him " as long as it pleased them, and 
 then went their ways. 
 
 A low stone post at each corner now marks the 
 site of the fort. 
 
 "O Dick!" called Suzette, "come and see 
 where the fort was. And you come too, Teddy. ' r 
 
 " Yes, come on, Teddy," said Dick. 
 
 Teddy followed gladly, yet reluctantly : gladly 
 because he felt they really wanted him ; reluct- 
 antly because he knew his hands were dirty and 
 he was afraid his face was. He felt he was out 
 of place beside these two, fresh as the morning 
 and with such well-kept hands. And he resolved 
 that never again should Mrs. White, whose chore- 
 boy he was, be compelled to tell him to wash 
 his hands. 
 
 The site of the fort is thickly covered with 
 green grass, but Suzette sat down upon a seat
 
 A HISTORY LESSON. 85 
 
 hard by and tried to " imagine " it as it stood there 
 in all its roughness and squareness, with the six 
 cannon upon its roof that shot five-pound iron 
 balls. This fort meeting-house, or meeting-house 
 fort, was built in the summer of 1622. Before 
 that the Pilgrims had worshiped in the Common 
 House and the cannon had been mounted on a 
 platform. 
 
 No concreted way led up the hill then. ^ But 
 there was a slope of green turf bespangled with 
 violets and dandelions in early spring and with 
 buttercups in the later summer. 
 
 Up this steep slope the Pilgrims marched in 
 procession every Sunday. They formed before 
 the door of Governor Bradford's house, having 
 been called together by beat of drum, and marched 
 three abreast, carrying their muskets. Captain 
 Myles Standish walked upon one side of the 
 governor, and the preacher on the other, with the 
 women and children somewhere in the midst, I 
 suppose. The governor wore a long robe, and the 
 preacher had his cloak on, as did Myles Standish. 
 The latter wore -his side arms and carried a small 
 cane in his hand. So they worshiped God in this 
 rude temple, with their firearms close at hand. 
 
 This is the way they did in early New England, 
 for nobody ever knew when the foe, that is, the
 
 86 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 Indian, might be upon them. Often they had to 
 break away from prayer and praise to fight for 
 their own lives and those of their wives and 
 children. 
 
 " I can imagine I see them," said Suzette, in her 
 favorite phrase. " The men with their pretty 
 clothes, ever so much prettier then than now, with 
 long stockings and silver buckles in their shoes, 
 and broad collars and ruffles, and their muskets 
 shining. And the children, with little kerchiefs 
 over their shoulders, skipping along." (I fear 
 Suzette was at fault there, for I hardly think 
 the children were allowed to skip much on their 
 way to meeting). " And the mothers, looking 
 so sweet and anxious, and pretty Priscilla Mullins 
 
 shouldn't you like to have seen her, Dick? 
 
 and little Humilitie Cooper; I wonder if she 
 picked any buttercups on the way ; " and Su- 
 zette looked fondly down upon the golden bouquet 
 tucked into her white frock. "And over there 
 maybe, the Indians were peeping and wondering 
 what was going on. And there was no lighthouse 
 on the Gurnet for company, and no houses on the 
 Duxbury shore only the sea and woods and 
 sky." 
 
 The little Humilitie Cooper, of whom Suzette 
 was so fond, in 1623 had a whole "aker " for so
 
 A HISTORY LESSON. 8/ 
 
 it is spelled in the Old Colony Records given 
 to her when the land was assigned. And in 1627, 
 when the cattle were divided, she came in for a 
 share of one tenth of " the blind heifer and two 
 she-goats." 
 
 Cattle were precious in the old Pilgrim town 
 then. The first were brought over by Edward 
 Winslow in 1624, and we read in the records, 
 under date of January 20, 1627, that "Edward 
 Winslow had sold unto Myles Standish his six 
 shares in the Red Cow." They apparently owned 
 shares in cows as we do in banks and railroads, 
 and took their dividends in milk and calves. 
 
 " Dick," Suzette went on after a pause and in a 
 confidential tone, " they say, you know, that not 
 a Pilgrim wanted to go back in the Mayflower. 
 But I 'm afraid I should have wanted to go." 
 
 " I should n't," replied Dick, with a backward 
 toss of his head. 
 
 "Not as the conqueror comes, 
 
 They, the true-hearted, came ; 
 Not with the roll of the stirring drums, 
 And the trumpet that sings of fame ; 
 
 Not as the flying come, 
 
 In silence and in fear 
 They shook the depths of the desert gloom 
 
 With their hymns of lofty cheer."
 
 88 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 Dick struck an attitude and declaimed this so 
 loudly and vehemently that the tourists stopped 
 munching peanuts for a perceptible instant, and 
 wondered if "that boy" were going mad, or what 
 ailed him. 
 
 "When a fellow has once started on a thing 
 like that, Sue, he does n't back out. He 's true 
 blue." 
 
 " That 's so," replied Suzette, converted from 
 her momentary heresy. " And, Dick, if yoy had 
 wanted to stay, I should, of course." 
 
 It was always very much " of course " with 
 Suzette. What Dick did she always wanted to 
 do, and it was a great comfort to her to know that 
 when Dick went to college she would go too. And 
 what he was going to be she would be doctor, 
 ranchman, artist, engineer ; no matter what. But 
 the company would be " Waterman & Water- 
 man " ; of that she was sure. 
 
 " And that," continued Suzette, looking over 
 to what is now Watson's Hill, " must be Straw- 
 berry Hill over there, where Massasoit came. 
 It was opposite Burial Hill, you know, with the 
 ' sweete brooke ' between. But it 's all houses 
 now. I wish I knew exactly where Massasoit and 
 Myles Standish met ; " and she peered down
 
 A HISTORY LESSON. 89 
 
 among the roofs and chimneys which lie under 
 the hill to the south. 
 
 All this talk was Greek to Teddy, who listened, 
 however, with both ears. He knew something of 
 the geography of Africa, and had acquired, through 
 a reluctant study of United States history, the 
 dirty and dog's-eared condition of his own partic- 
 ular volume showing how reluctant, a vague idea 
 of certain events and persons such as the Revolu- 
 tionary War and George Washington. But of the 
 early history and topography of the old Pilgrim 
 town in which he lived, and in whose historic 
 streets he walked and played daily, he knew 
 nothing. 
 
 History, from its very remoteness, was uninter- 
 esting, and had he known that he was to listen 
 to a long passage from that hated study when he 
 asked, turning his eyes upon Suzette, " Who were 
 them fellers, any way ? " I fear he would never 
 have asked the question. 
 
 " Why, don't you know, Teddy ? Don't you 
 really know about the Pilgrims?" asked Suzette, 
 who, with Dick, had come to the conclusion that 
 Teddy's assertion that Columbus had landed on 
 Plymouth Rock was only "bluff." 
 
 " No, I don't," replied Teddy promptly, having
 
 90 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 the courage of his ignorance, and taking the first 
 step in the path of knowledge by confessing that 
 ignorance. 
 
 And so Suzette began at the beginning and told 
 him the whole beautiful story in her own way, 
 weaving in much poetry, it is true, but then there 
 is a good deal of poetry in history, though many 
 historians have not yet found that out, especially 
 those who write the school histories. 
 
 It was the most fitting place in the old Pilgrim 
 town in which to listen to that story for the first 
 time, for there lay the scene of it spread out all 
 around them. In the distance, dimly seen above 
 the blue sea, was a portion of the sandy shores 
 of Cape Cod. Around Beach Point a small vessel 
 was trimming her sails, and one could easily imag- 
 ine her to be the Mayflower herself. The rock 
 was hidden from their view, it is true, and Cole's 
 Hill was only a confusion of housetops. But 
 Teddy, listening eagerly, caught something of 
 Suzette's enthusiasm, and the wintry weather, the 
 icy shores, and the snow-covered hill became very 
 clear to him. 
 
 Just below them sloped the street of the seven 
 houses, and all around were the old graves set 
 with thick slate stones brought from England.
 
 A HISTORY LESSON. 91 
 
 And there on the topmost height of the hill stood 
 the small white shaft which marks the grave of 
 William Bradford, that brave man and true, who 
 was governor of Plymouth Plantation from 1621 
 to 1657, with the exception of five years during 
 which he begged off. 
 
 Just think of what stuff a man must have been 
 made who did not care for the office of governor, 
 but who wished to spend and be spent for the 
 good of the colony ! That 's the man for a boy 
 to pattern after ! 
 
 " And the day they landed was the twenty-first 
 of December," said Suzette, after getting her 
 Pilgrims comfortably on shore. 
 
 " The twenty-first ! Why, that 's th' day we 
 alwa's have sukitash ! Miss Pen alwa's sends 
 some to little Bess an' me." 
 
 Here was something at last that Teddy knew 
 about. He had eaten of that palatable dish which 
 is made on Forefathers' Day in almost every 
 household in Plymouth that is able to get together 
 the many ingredients, the hulled corn, beans, 
 corned beef, chickens, and what not, for the 
 writer confesses her ignorance of the essential 
 parts of succotash, though she has often partaken 
 of the savory mess with the completest satis- 
 faction.
 
 92 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 " Sukitash ! what 's sukitash ? " asked Suzette, 
 adopting Teddy's pronunciation. 
 
 " It 's succotash, Sue. Don't you remember 
 when mamma made some once for papa ? Papa 
 said he wished he could have some Plymouth 
 succotash once more. And so mamma and Felice 
 made some after he had told them as near as he 
 could. And papa said he did n't wish to hurt 
 their feelings, but they'd better give it to the 
 pigs." 
 
 "But Teddy says they always have it every 
 twenty-first, the day the Pilgrims landed. I won- 
 der why that is ? " 
 
 " I don't know, I 'm sure," said Dick. " Do 
 you, Teddy ? " 
 
 But of course Teddy did not know, and I am 
 not sure anybody does. Certainly the Pilgrims 
 did not have anything so good for many a day 
 after they landed. They had corn after a while, 
 and beans, and we read about lobsters and fish, 
 and a bit of venison now and then. But they 
 were often reduced to great straits and had to 
 practice a rigid frugality in the matter of food. 
 
 Succotash, too, was really an Indian dish, and 
 a fine mess it was as they made it, putting in all 
 sorts of unspeakable things !
 
 A HISTORY LESSON. 93 
 
 But whether the custom of providing succotash 
 for Forefathers' Day has or has not an historical 
 foundation, no eater thereof will seriously object 
 to its observance. 
 
 " And that about the Injuns," said Teddy. 
 "Was there Injuns here once ?" 
 
 " Why, of course, Teddy ; there were Indians 
 everywhere in America once." 
 
 Then Suzette told him about the coming of 
 Samoset and of Massasoit. How Massasoit came 
 one day in April, 1621, with sixty of his Indians, 
 and took his stand on Strawberry Hill ; and how 
 the Pilgrims sent over Edward Winslow to see 
 him, carrying a pair of knives and a copper chain 
 with a jewel in it as a gift for Massasoit ; and for 
 his brother Quadequina, a knife and a jewel to 
 hang in his ear, together with " strong water 
 and bisket." And how by-and-by Massasoit him- 
 self crossed the brook Edward Winslow staying 
 behind as hostage and Myles Standish and 
 Master Williamson 1 met him with an escort and 
 took him down the street of the seven houses 
 to the Common House, where he was given a 
 "greene rugge " and cushions to sit on, which was 
 
 1 Master Williamson has lately been discovered to have been the 
 supercargo of the Mayflower.
 
 94 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 as near a throne as they could come in their 
 poverty ; for Massasoit was king of the Wampa- 
 noags, and they wished to do him honor. 
 
 He had a grave countenance and he did not 
 talk much, and although he was " a lustie man," 
 it was noticed that, as he sat upon his impro- 
 vised throne by the side of Governor Carver, he 
 trembled. 
 
 They made a treaty with him, and then he 
 went back to his village of Sowams, now Warren, 
 in Rhode Island. 
 
 Massasoit was a fast friend of the Pilgrims from 
 that day to the end of his life. 
 
 At one time, when he was sick in his own house 
 at Sowams, Edward Winslow, hearing of his ill- 
 ness, went to him, taking another Indian, named 
 Hobomock, as a guide. On the way some Indians 
 told them Massasoit was already dead, and Hobo- 
 mock, who greatly loved him, broke out into lam- 
 entations : 
 
 " My loving Sachem ! my loving Sachem ! many 
 have I known, but never any like thee." And 
 then he went on to say that Massasoit was no liar ; 
 he was not bloody and cruel like the other Indians ; 
 he soon got over his anger and was forgiving. 
 
 On arriving at Massasoit's wigwam, however,
 
 A HISTORY LESSON. 95 
 
 they found that the Indians had lied to them, and 
 that the chief, although very ill, was still alive. 
 He was quite blind from the disease, and when he 
 was told that Winslow had come, he put out his 
 hand and groped for his, and took it and said 
 faintly : 
 
 "Art thou Winsnow ? " and when he was told 
 that it was indeed he, he exclaimed, " O Win- 
 snow, I shall never see thee again ! " 
 
 But Winslow turned out the medicine-men, who 
 were making a great pow-wow in order to drive off 
 the evil spirit which they thought was making 
 Massasoit ill, and nursed him himself, and in a 
 short time he was so much better that he sat up. 
 
 "Now I see," he said, "that the English are 
 my friends and love me, and while I live I shall 
 never forget this kindness they have shown." 
 
 Before they went away he called Hobomock 
 to him, and told him of a great conspiracy that 
 the Massachusetts and other Indians had entered 
 into to kill all the whites, and which they had 
 tried to persuade him to join. He advised the 
 Pilgrims to strike the first blow, and spoil the 
 plot by killing the ringleaders. 
 
 Hobomock also continued a good friend to the 
 Pilgrims, and in the allotment of land in 1624 a
 
 96 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 parcel was given to him. He became a member 
 of Myles Standish's family, and his guide and 
 interpreter on his expeditions. 
 
 Samoset brought still another Indian to the 
 Pilgrims at Plymouth. He was named Squanto 
 and was the only one left of the Patuxet tribe, 
 which had been killed off by pestilence three 
 years before the coming of the Pilgrims, and 
 whose lands they occupied. He had been seized 
 and carried off by a man named Hunt, who meant 
 to sell him for a slave into Spain. But Squanto 
 got away to England and so back to his old home. 
 
 He could talk English, and became very useful 
 to the Pilgrims. He showed them how to enrich 
 their ground with fish, putting a herring into each 
 hill of corn. These herring came up the " brooke 
 of sweet waters " in the early spring, and were 
 caught by thousands. He told them, too, the 
 right time in which to plant their corn when 
 the leaves of the white oak are as big as the ears 
 of a mouse. And after they had planted their 
 corn they set a watch over it every night for 
 fourteen nights, lest the wolves, digging for the 
 buried fish, should dig up the corn also. In four- 
 teen days the fish decayed so that the wolves did 
 not care for them.
 
 A HISTORY LESSON. 97 
 
 It must be confessed that Squanto was not 
 strictly honest in all his dealings, but then, what 
 could be expected of an untaught Indian who 
 himself had been treacherously dealt with ? But 
 he loved the English, and when he was dying he 
 asked Governor Bradford to pray that he might go 
 to the Englishman's God in heaven. 
 
 The Pilgrim fort stood upon the south-easterly 
 spur of the hill, but when they built their watch- 
 house in 1643, they put that upon the summit. 
 Stone posts now mark its site. Another was 
 built later on the same spot. From this site bits 
 of window glass have been taken, although the 
 early houses had no window glass. 
 
 Window glass was then but little used even in 
 England, and the Pilgrims used oiled paper as a 
 substitute. This let in plenty of light, ordinarily, 
 but of course no one could see through it, and 
 the interior effect on a rainy day in summer or in 
 winter, when the outer door had to be shut, must 
 have been dismal enough. But then there was 
 always the great cheery fire in the great fire-place. 
 When the time came that they did have glass, 
 the panes were small, diamond-shaped, and set in 
 lead, such as you see in English cottages to-day. 
 We must remember that many things which we
 
 9 8 
 
 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 consider essential to comfortable, even to decent, 
 living were unknown to the Pilgrims. 
 
 How, think you, could you get on without 
 forks ? And yet Queen Elizabeth and Shakespeare 
 and Walter Raleigh, all, doubtless ate without 
 forks. Occasionally we hear of a silver fork with 
 which to eat fruit. But the Englishman of that 
 day commonly ate with his knife. With a napkin 
 in his left hand he held his food and cut it with 
 the right hand. Old table knives are still in 
 existence which are rounded out on the back, 
 near the end, this little 
 shelf being doubtless 
 provided to convey the 
 food safely to the mouth. 
 
 The floors of the pal- 
 aces of England were 
 then strewn with rushes, 
 so a visitor would not 
 have expected to find 
 carpets in the small ELDER HREWSTER'S CHAIR. 
 log-houses at Plymouth. 
 
 And as regards chairs, the Pilgrims had a few, 
 we know, for we see to-day in Pilgrim Hall the 
 stout arm-chairs of Governors Carver and Winslow 
 and of Elder Brewster. But chairs were few, and
 
 A HIST OX Y LESSON. 
 
 99 
 
 most of the Pilgrims, the children most certainly, 
 sat on nothing more luxurious than a three-legged 
 wooden stool. Their plates were of pewter or 
 of wood. So were their platters and bowls. 
 
 Suzette's story was brought to an abrupt close 
 by the simultaneous peal of the bell in the church- 
 tower below them 
 and the striking of 
 the town-clock, 
 both of which an- 
 nounced the dinner 
 hour. 
 
 "Good-by, Ted- 
 dy," said Dick. 
 " Come and tell me 
 how you come out, 
 to-morrow." 
 
 " All right," said 
 GOVERNOR CARVER'S CHAIR. Teddy. 
 He watched their rapid plunge down the hill, 
 and then himself walked slowly down the stone 
 steps leading into Spring Street. 
 
 What a handsome, jolly, kindly pair they were! 
 he reflected, though not using these words per- 
 haps. Nothing so beautiful and beneficent had 
 ever come into his life before. How did it happen
 
 IOO LITTLE PILGRIMS AJ : PLYMOUTH. 
 
 they were so good to him ? They did n't seem to 
 mind one bit his ragged clothes or rough speech. 
 For Teddy had begun to be dimly conscious, since 
 he had known these two, that his speech was 
 rough. He wondered if he could grow like Dick 
 if he tried. 'T was worth trying for, any way. 
 And he'd just go and own up to Miss Moore the 
 first thing. That 's what Dick said he V do. How 
 awful nice it must be to have a mother that could 
 make a boy like that ! And he thrust his hands 
 into his pockets and walked on whistling " Sweet 
 Violets."
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 TO AND FRO IN PILGRIM LAND. 
 
 New occasions teach new duties; time makes ancient good 
 
 uncouth; 
 We must upward still and onward who would keep abreast of 
 
 truth; 
 Lo, before us gleam her camp-fires ! we ourselves must pilgrims 
 
 be, 
 
 Launch our Mayflower, and steer boldly through the desperate 
 winter sea. 
 
 y antes Russell Lowell. 
 
 r I ^HEY were at the east window of uncle 
 -* Tom's own room. They had been talking 
 about the twin lights over on the Gurnet, which, 
 like those of all lighthouses, are kindled at sun- 
 set ; talking, too, of other things. 
 
 Uncle Tom was in his great easy-chair, resting 
 after a hard day's work, and Suzette was standing 
 beside him, with his arm around her. It was after 
 this fashion that she talked over things with he* 
 father when at home. 
 
 " And can't you cure her, uncle Tom ? " she 
 asked. 
 
 "I'm doing my best, pussy," was the reply. 
 
 101
 
 IO2 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 " I 'm glad you 've seen her. 'T was like her to 
 speak to you. She 's a jolly little thing." 
 
 " Oh, uncle Tom ! " 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 "I don't see how she can be." 
 
 "No, I dare say not. It is n't easy for any of 
 us to understand how a person can be happy with- 
 out the very things we think essential to our own 
 happiness." 
 
 "That 's just it, uncle Tom. I don't see how a 
 girl can be happy who can't run and ride and row 
 and dance only just lie still and bear the pain." 
 Then after a moment, softly, " Poor little Bess ! " 
 
 "Don't pity her, puss." 
 
 " Why not ? " 
 
 " She does n't need it." Then, as Suzette looked 
 at him inquiringly, " Do you think she does ? I 
 don't believe there 's a happier girl in Plymouth 
 than little Bess. Then why should you pity her ? " 
 
 " Oh, I don't understand ! " said Suzette again. 
 
 "And I'm glad you don't," was uncle Tom's 
 reply. " Nobody can exactly understand another's 
 experience. And I 'm sure I 'm glad you have n't 
 had little Bess's." Then, after a pause: "You 
 remember who it was that said, ' I am the good 
 Shepherd ' ? and, pussy, what do your shepherds
 
 TO AND FRO IN PILGRIM LAND. 1 03 
 
 on the ranch do when there 's a weak little lamb 
 who can't walk? " 
 
 " They take it up and carry it, uncle Tom." 
 
 "And just so it is that He gathers the lambs in 
 his arms and carries them in his bosom the 
 weak ones, who, like little Bess, can't run and skip 
 with the rest. And I think he must have a special 
 tenderness for them and must whisper many loving 
 things to them by the way that fill them with hap- 
 piness, though they can not run and skip. No, 
 pussy, I don't think that any one who knows little 
 Bess ever thinks of pitying her. She is such a 
 little sunbeam that people are much more likely 
 to come away from her pitying themselves because 
 they are not so happy as she." 
 
 " Has n 't she ever walked one bit in her whole 
 life ? " 
 
 " Not a step," said uncle Tom. 
 
 There was a long silence, and then uncle Tom, 
 jumping up briskly, said, " Come, let 's go out under 
 the lindens. I hear aunt Pen and Dick out there, 
 and the band is playing in the square." 
 
 This large old house of uncle Tom's, with its 
 wide-spreading lindens, was a never-failing delight 
 to Suzette that summer. It was built by a great- 
 grandson of Governor Edward Winslow, who was
 
 IO4 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 himself named Edward, and who had had the 
 frame and carvings brought from England. And 
 Suzette had a great many fancies about those old 
 timbers that showed themselves here and there in 
 the corners and as cornices ; timbers of stout 
 English oak that had been growing nobody knows 
 how many years a thousand perhaps before 
 they were cut. Very likely, as she told aunt Pen, 
 they might have sheltered King Arthur and his 
 Knights of the Round Table a pretty wild 
 flight of the imagination, but one which aunt 
 Pen did not discourage. Aunt Pen was a model 
 aunt, who believed in allowing young folks large 
 liberties in this direction. She was n't above 
 such things herself. She read the Arabian 
 Nights through once every three years, and 
 declared she found it just as interesting as it was 
 when she was a girl in pantalettes. And she 
 acknowledged that she still often liked to plan 
 what she would wish for if she had Aladdin's 
 lamp. 
 
 Well, the horses came, a pretty pair of black 
 animals, named, as so many pairs are, for the 
 famous Castor and Pollux, and upon them Dick 
 and Suzette scoured the Pilgrim country far and 
 near.
 
 TO AND FRO IN PILGRIM LAND. 105 
 
 Down the long, sandy beach to the point, 
 Castor, who never could get used to the dash and 
 sound of the waves, capering and dancing all the 
 way, while Pollux sniffed the sea-air as though he 
 loved it. Every day at first it was a new way, 
 leading through thick bowery woods, perhaps, to 
 South Pond, the road an old Indian path running 
 along the ridges of the hills, and now and then 
 through an opening in the trees giving a glimpse 
 of the sea, " the real, real sea," as Suzette was 
 fond of saying. 
 
 Or, further still, to Long Pond, eight miles 
 away, one of the twenty or more ponds and pond- 
 lets to be found in Plymouth township. Long 
 Pond is a lovely sheet of water set amid sloping 
 green hills, with miniature pebbly beaches, and 
 when the wind is high, showing miniature white 
 caps and a miniature surf. 
 
 A few picturesque summer cottages are scattered 
 about its shores, and the old Pierce house remains, 
 at which Daniel Webster used to put up, when he 
 came deer-hunting with Branch Pierce for his 
 guide. The shores have lost the solitary sylvan 
 aspect they had in Pilgrim days, when none but 
 the Indian, the deer, and the wolf roamed here. 
 But they are none the less beautiful.
 
 IO6 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 Another day they rode as far as Cedarville, a 
 quaint fishing-village nine miles below Plymouth, 
 where, when it was learned that they were the 
 nephew aud niece of Doctor Tom, they were most 
 hospitably welcomed, and shown the lobster pots 
 and boats and fishing-tackle. 
 
 Sometimes they lost their way, but that only 
 added to the fun. They always came out right 
 at last. Uncle Tom, returning from a drive far 
 beyond Manomet, or in the remotest precinct of 
 Carver, would see ahead a gallant pair coming 
 on at a rapid canter, who as they drew near he 
 would recognize as those " harum-scarum twins." 
 Ranging one on each side of his chaise, they 
 would escort him home. 
 
 Once, in a lonely spot on Manomet Hill, two 
 eagles swept down upon them as though they in- 
 tended to carry them off, circling round and round 
 above their heads, and causing Castor and Pollux 
 to shy, being much more afraid than were their 
 riders, to whom eagles were a familiar sight. 
 
 On another never-to-be-forgotten day (in fact, 
 most of the days of that summer could have been 
 entered in this catalogue, being red-letter days all 
 of them, and constituting a red-letter summer) - 
 on that day they took the high, breezy road leading
 
 TO AND FRO IN PILGRIM LAND. 107 
 
 over to Kingston town. It was to be an all-day 
 ride, they told Mehitable, and would she put them 
 up a cozy lunch ? 
 
 " You do get up such capital lunches, Mehita- 
 ble," said Dick. " Felice can't hold a candle to 
 you." And Mehitable smiled grimly upon the 
 young flatterer. 
 
 Felice was the French cook at the Waterman 
 ranch, brought by Mrs. Richard Waterman, who 
 was a Frenchwoman, from her own province. 
 
 " You 're jest like your father for coaxin'. He 
 could get anything out o' me the old doctor used 
 t' say. Well, well, he was the baby, and he did 
 about 's he was a mind to with everybody. But 
 how he can let you two child'en ride on them two 
 dancin' creaturs is unaccountable ; " the last being 
 a favorite word with Mehitable. 
 
 So she put them up a dainty lunch of chicken 
 sandwiches, and biscuits, and pound cake made 
 from the famous Waterman receipt, and watched 
 them as they trotted slowly up North Street, say- 
 ing to aunt Penelope, who was similarly occupied, 
 "They can't be beat in this part of th' country, 
 whatever they 've got out west." And then, as 
 Castor made his usual shy at the water-cart, 
 " Dear ! dear ! he '11 be fetched home half-killed
 
 108 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 some day. How can ye let 'em do it, Miss 
 Penelope ? " 
 
 "Oh," said aunt Penelope cheerfully, hiding her 
 own quake, "they're used to riding, Mehitable. 
 They 've ridden ever since they were big enough 
 to sit on a horse. You could n't tumble them off 
 any more than you could drown a duck." 
 
 " Get safe horses and don't worry about them," 
 their father had written to Doctor Tom. " When 
 out-of-doors, they have almost lived on the backs 
 of their Indian ponies." 
 
 But Mehitattle went back to the kitchen shak- 
 ing her head doubtfully. How anybody could 
 mount a horse or get into a boat of their own free 
 will was certainly to her " unaccountable." 
 
 The road from Plymouth to Kingston lies 
 nearly the whole way within view of the sea. 
 That morning there was a partial mirage, and the 
 whole length of the cape was visible, with Cape 
 Cod Bay lying between, smooth and placid as a 
 lake. A flock of sails, looking like great birds 
 of passage, whitened the horizon, and a steamer 
 was seen afar off, moving rapidly and trailing 
 behind it its plume of smoke. 
 
 They watered their horses at Cold Spring, and 
 then, getting clear of the town, they struck into
 
 TO AND FRO IN PILGRIM LAND. 
 
 a swift gallop, which brought them just in time to 
 see a small vessel launched from her ways at the 
 Landing in Kingston. This Landing, so called, is 
 on Jones River, named from the master of the 
 Mayflower, and up which the exploring party went 
 in their shallop " three English miles," and which 
 they found a "very pleasant river at full sea." It 
 is a lovely stream, winding and bending upon itself 
 through its green meadows, and so narrow that it 
 hardly seemed equal to taking into its waters the 
 gallant little bark that plunged so proudly and 
 swiftly down that day. But it was, and with 
 many a curve and ripple sent its waves over the 
 meadows on either side as it opened its arms and 
 took her in. That was just what Suzette said it 
 seemed to do to open its arms ; and she was 
 so enthusiastic over it, and waved her handkerchief 
 so wildly, that a gentleman who stood by her 
 asked her if she had never seen a vessel launched 
 before, and when she said no, he explained many 
 things to her concerning it. 
 
 Here too she found traces of the Pilgrims. 
 Near the ship-yard stands an old house two stories 
 in front and sloping to one in the rear, which, the 
 same gentleman told her, was the home of Major 
 John Bradford, grandson of Governor Bradford.
 
 I IO LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 Suzette looked at it thoughtfully. 
 
 "You 've nothing quite so old as that in Colo- 
 rado," he said. 
 
 "Nothing but the Rocky Mountains," replied 
 Suzette, smiling. " And a Massachusetts man 
 said such a droll thing once about the Rocky 
 Mountains. They were only great heaps of rocks 
 and dirt, he told mamma. For his part he liked 
 a round, grassy hill, like the Berkshire Hills." 
 
 From the Landing they rode on through Stony 
 Brook, where, it is said, Governor Bradford lived 
 for a short time. His son, Major William Brad- 
 ford, also lived there, and owned the most of the 
 land now occupied by that pretty village. The 
 site of the old Bradford house is still pointed out. 
 
 Leaving Stony Brook behind, they proceeded 
 on to Captain's Hill on the estate of Myles Stand- 
 ish, to which he removed from Plymouth in 1631. 
 The hill is not high, and they rode easily up to 
 the monument that stands upon its summit. This 
 monument is surmounted by a statue of the 
 doughty little captain ; for Myles Standish, though 
 a brave man, was small. But a man's bravery is 
 not to be measured by his size, as we all know. 
 Nelson, one of the bravest of men, was exceed- 
 ingly small. So was Livingstone, one of the 
 heroes of our nineteenth century.
 
 TO AND FRO IN PILGRIM LAND. Ill 
 
 The site of Myles Standish's house is some 
 distance from the hilltop, and beyond the long 
 and gradual slope of that side. The stones which 
 formed the foundations of the house are tumbled 
 about, the place having been dug over and over 
 for relics. Wild shrubs and willows grow among 
 them. It is close to the seashore and opposite 
 the head of Plymouth Beach, certainly as pleasant 
 and commodious a spot as he could have found 
 upon his estate, which comprised the whole of 
 this peninsula. He gave to it the name of Dux- 
 borrow, from his old home in Lancashire, England. 
 Standish's house was burned after his death. 
 
 Dick and Suzette left their horses to be fed at 
 a house near the foot of the hill, and walked up 
 the narrow lane and through the gate and field 
 that leads to this ancient site. Not far away is 
 the spring from which the family must have had 
 their water-supply. It is not a limpid, sparkling 
 spring, but is a small, dark pool. There is a 
 tangle of sedge and rose-bushes and other wild 
 growths on one side, and on the other a path 
 where the cattle come to drink. A weather- 
 beaten trellis with a dwarfed rose-bush clinging 
 to it marks the spot. 
 
 Dick and Suzette were quite sure no more
 
 112 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 charming place could be found in which to eat 
 Mehitable's lunch. And spreading their water- 
 proofs on the grass, they sat down by the spring 
 and dipped in their drinking-cups. 
 
 " I suppose little Lorea Standish has dipped 
 her tin dipper in here many and many a time," 
 said Suzette. " Or was it of wood ? I think it 
 must have been a wooden dipper. I '11 ask uncle 
 Tom. And I do wish we knew where John Alden 
 lived. He lived somewhere in Duxbury, where 
 he brought Priscilla to. What a pity she did not 
 really ride on the beautiful white bull, as Mr. 
 Longfellow says ! It would be so much nicer if it 
 were really true." 
 
 " You can imagine it, Suzette," said Dick, with 
 a slight twinkle in his eye. 
 
 " So I can," replied Suzette, unmindful of the 
 twinkle. " How pretty she must have looked rid- 
 ing along through the woods under the green trees ! 
 And then they had to cross the river where the 
 vessel was launched. But she would n't be afraid 
 a Pilgrim girl would n't be afraid. There was n't 
 any road, only paths, and John Alden walked be- 
 side her. I wonder if he wore his armor. He 
 had his musket, of course, for they might meet an 
 Indian or a pair of wolves. And he would pick
 
 TO AND FRO IN PILGRIM LAND. I 13 
 
 flowers by the way for her. What a lovely wed- 
 ding trip it was ! And then they came to his little 
 log-house with paper windows and a thatched roof, 
 and he helped her off, and they went in, and she 
 sat down by the spinning-wheel just as she does 
 in the pictures. And the pewter platters shone 
 on the dresser, and there were little wooden plates 
 and a settle. The log-house was ever and ever so 
 small, but of course they did n't care for that, any 
 more than papa and mamma did when they went 
 to housekeeping in the little sod-house. Mamma 
 said she was as happy as the day was long. What 
 a pity it is n't true ! But, Dick, there 's one thing 
 that is true. She really did say, ' Prithee, John, 
 why do you not speak for yourself ? ' when he 
 asked her to marry Myles Standish." 
 
 It is a pity that Suzette's pretty idyl is not true. 
 It seems to have been put together upon the plan 
 of the pictures of the famous Turner, who, Mr. 
 Ruskin says, was not particular to copy exactly 
 from nature, but took a bit here and a bit there, 
 and so made up his picture, giving a true 
 impression of the scene presented, although the 
 details were inaccurate. 
 
 At any rate, Suzette's idyl is quite as true in 
 detail as Mr. Longfellow's.
 
 114 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 " Take a sandwich," said Dick, who had been 
 diligently eating while Suzette talked. " They 're 
 tip-top. I say, I don't wonder papa says he should 
 like to taste some of Mehitable's cooking once 
 more." 
 
 " Thanks. But don't you think the door of 
 Myles Standish's house was towards Plymouth, so 
 little Lorea could see him when he was coming ? 
 She must have been dreadfully anxious when he 
 was off fighting the Indians." 
 
 Myles Standish was a great fighter, that is true. 
 It had been his business from boyhood. He had 
 fought in a good many battles before he joined 
 the Pilgrims at Leyden. For he was not a true 
 Pilgrim, but he liked these brave and true men, 
 and resolved to throw in his lot with theirs. He 
 knew they would have perilous times in the new 
 country to which they were going, and he could 
 help them. And I really do not see how they 
 could have got on without him. We have seen 
 how he was the first to fire at " The First 
 Encounter." 
 
 They chose him for their captain in the Feb- 
 ruary after their arrival, and in all their negotia- 
 tions with the Indians Captain Standish was with 
 them. He went among the Indians to buy corn
 
 TO AND FRO IN PILGRIM LAND. 115 
 
 for food and to get skins and furs to send to 
 England. 
 
 In June, 1622, two vessels, the Charity and the 
 Swan, arrived at Plymouth, bringing sixty men 
 who settled at Wessagussett, now Weymouth. 
 They stayed awhile at Plymouth, but they proved 
 to be disorderly men. The Pilgrims gave them 
 from their scanty stores all the meal they could 
 spare. But these men were not satisfied, and 
 meanly stole the tender young corn from the 
 fields of their entertainers. So the latter were 
 heartily glad when they removed to Wessa- 
 gussett. 
 
 But they dealt no more honorably with the 
 Indians than they had with the Pilgrims. They 
 stole their corn and conducted so badly that the 
 Indians formed a conspiracy to kill not only them, 
 but the whites at Plymouth. Myles Standish 
 narrowly escaped being assassinated. He was on 
 an expedition for the buying of corn from the 
 Indians, and while he was in the wigwam of one 
 of the sachems, Wituwamat, a chief of the Massa- 
 chusetts, begged the sachem that he would kill 
 him, together with all his men. 
 
 "For," said the wily Wituwamat, "if we should 
 kill the white men of Wessagusset only, those at
 
 Il6 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 Plymouth will be revenged upon us. Now we 
 have the brave little captain and his men in our 
 power. Persuade him to send to his boat for the 
 rest of his men, and we will kill them all at once." 
 
 But the brave captain was as wily as the 
 Indians, and could not be persuaded to send for 
 his men. Then a treacherous Indian from Cape 
 Cod, named Paomet, made Standish a present of 
 some corn, and offered to take it himself to 
 the boat, having promised the other Indians to kill 
 him while he slept. But Standish could not sleep 
 that night, and did not even lie down, but paced 
 to and fro during the long hours. 
 
 " Why do you not lie down and sleep ? " asked 
 the wily Indian, who was on the watch. 
 
 " I do not know why it is," replied Standish, 
 "but I do not feel like sleeping." 
 
 All this took place during the time of Wins- 
 low's visit to Massasoit mentioned in the seventh 
 chapter. It was also told in that chapter how 
 Massasoit had informed Hobomock of this same 
 conspiracy. On the return of Winslow to Ply- 
 mouth he found Standish already returned. The 
 treacherous Paomet had come with him, but Gov- 
 ernor Bradford soon sent him about his business, 
 and then took counsel together with Winslow
 
 TO AND FRO IN PILGRIM LAND. I 1 7 
 
 and Standish as to what it was best to do. 
 Captain Standish was despatched with a company 
 of armed men to bring back the head of the 
 bloodthirsty Wituwamat, to be set up on a pole 
 on top of the fort, as a terror to the other 
 Indians. 
 
 For that was the custom in England at that 
 time. The heads of so-called enemies of the 
 State who were executed were set up on Temple 
 Bar, London, and so the Pilgrims followed the 
 custom of their native land and a truly bar- 
 barous custom it was. 
 
 Wituwamat received Captain Standish in a very 
 insolent manner. The Indians sharpened their 
 dreadful knives in the very faces of the English, 
 and Wituwamat especially bragged of the sharp- 
 ness of his knife. It had a woman's face painted 
 on the handle, and "by-and-by," said Wituwamat, 
 " it should see, and by-and-by it should eat, but not 
 speak." And Pecksuot, who was of great stature 
 and strength, spoke contemptuously to Standish. 
 
 " Though you be a great captain, you are but a 
 little man ; and though I be no sachem, I am a 
 man of great strength and courage," said he. 
 
 But the next day there was a terrible fight, and 
 not only Wituwamat, but Pecksuot, was killed.
 
 Il8 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 "Ah !" said Hobomock to Myles Standish, smil- 
 ing, " yesterday Pecksuot bragged of his great size 
 and strength and said though you were a great 
 captain you were but a little man. But to-day I 
 see you big enough to lay him on the ground." 
 
 They brought Wituwamat's head to Plymouth, 
 and it was set up on the fort on Burial Hill. 
 
 Standish helped the men at Wessagusset to em- 
 bark in a small vessel, and off they went, having 
 made a miserable failure of their settlement, 
 though they had bragged to the Pilgrims that 
 they were so much better off than they, because 
 they the Pilgrims had " many women and 
 children and weak ones among them." But 
 women and children are the " hostages of for- 
 tune," and are an element of strength in the set- 
 tling of a new country, as the pages of history 
 show. 
 
 Sometimes it has been said that the Pilgrims of 
 Plymouth dealt unfairly and hardly with the In- 
 dians. But even Massasoit, as we have seen, coun- 
 seled them to kill the ringleaders. And, by doing 
 so, much less blood was shed than if they had suf- 
 fered the conspiracy to go on. The Pilgrims were 
 always gentle and kind to the Indians when they 
 could be. In September, 1621, a company, with
 
 TO AND FRO IN PILGRIM LAND. 1 19 
 
 Squanto for a guide, went in their shallop to Massa- 
 chusetts Bay. They arrived" at what is now the 
 port of Boston, and cooked and ate lobsters under 
 a cliff, supposed to be Copp's Hill. At one village 
 they came to all the Indian men had fled, and only 
 the women were left, who trembled at the sight of 
 the white strangers. "But," says Winslow, "see- 
 ing our gentle carriage towards them, they took 
 heart and entertained us in the best manner they 
 could, boiling cod and such other things as they 
 had for us." 
 
 Poor creatures ! They had reason to fear the 
 white men after their experience with such as 
 Hunt, the slave-stealer. 
 
 " That 's the last sandwich," said Dick, shaking 
 out the pink-and-white Japanese napkin in which 
 they were wrapped. " Sue, why is the desert of 
 Sahara a good place to picnic in ? " 
 
 Suzette, who was thoughtfully dipping her hand 
 into the spring and watching the drops as they ran 
 off the ends of her fingers, looked up. 
 
 " The desert of Sahara, Dick ? I 'm sure I 
 don't know. I should think it would be the worst 
 place in the world to picnic in. Is it a conun- 
 drum ? " 
 
 "It is. Give it up?" 
 
 " Yes."
 
 I2O LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 "Because of the sand which is (sandwiches) 
 there. It is n't original, Sue. But I say, do 
 you suppose Myles Standish ever made a conun- 
 drum ?" 
 
 " I don't see why not," replied Suzette stoutly ; 
 "that is, if he liked conundrums. Some people 
 don't like them. Uncle Tom says they are beastly. 
 But I think he liked fun. Sybil Smythe says the 
 Pilgrims were sour and grim, and wore funny, 
 peaked hats, and talked through their noses, and 
 never kissed the babies or let them play on Sun- 
 days. And I asked her, did she ever read the 
 lovely bits in Governor Bradford's book about how 
 Elder Brewster and Myles Standish took care of 
 the sick, and how they went after John Billington 
 when he was lost, and if you '11 believe it, Dick, 
 she had never even heard of Governor Bradford's 
 book. It was worse than Teddy. And then she 
 said she descended from Governor Carver, and 
 uncle Tom said Governor Carver did n't have any 
 descendants. He heard us talking, and Sybil col- 
 ored up. And I said if the Pilgrims did n't laugh 
 much it was because they had such hard times. 
 And I don't believe they did n't kiss the babies, 
 
 for 
 
 The bravest are the tenderest,' 
 
 you know, Dick, and they were brave."
 
 TO AND FRO IN PILGRIM LAND. 121 
 
 " And as to talking through their noses, it 's 
 their descendants that talk through their noses. 
 They were English, and the English don't talk 
 through their noses, I heard papa say once," 
 replied Dick. 
 
 Suzette picked a bit of grass, a bunch of wild- 
 rose hips, and a blossom of yellow cinquefoil which 
 grew by the spring, and put them carefully into 
 the luncheon case, which always served a dou- 
 ble purpose on their excursions. The grass and 
 cinquefoil would be pressed between the leaves of 
 her diary, with similar flowers, to remind her, as 
 nothing else could, of the many pleasant Pilgrim 
 places she visited. Then they walked along the 
 shore and up again to the hilltop, looking off over 
 the bay, which had freshened under a west wind 
 and was dimpling and sparkling in the sunlight. 
 
 " I wish, Dick," said Suzette, " we could ride 
 over to the burial-ground in Marshfield where Per- 
 egrine White is buried. Do you think we 've time 
 enough ? Uncle Tom said we should be on the 
 way." 
 
 " We can try it," replied Dick. 
 
 And in a few moments they had mounted and 
 were off at a spanking rate, the man who had fed 
 their horses looking after them with wide-open eyes
 
 TO AMD FRO Iff PILGRIM LAND. 
 
 and mouth. To let off a portion of Castor's super- 
 fluous spirits, as well as his own, Dick leaped the 
 fence by the roadside once, twice, thrice. 
 
 "Jemima!" ejaculated the looker-on. "Must 
 be them two grandchild'en of the old doctor over 
 t' Plymouth. They said they beat everything for 
 ridin', an' that 's a fact. How they do go it ! Like 
 a streak o' lightnin' ! There ! " as they passed out 
 of sight, "I would n't give much for their necks." 
 
 But with the freedom and ease of long-practiced 
 riders, the two galloped steadily on over the sandy 
 roads, passing now and then through piny woods 
 where brown needles strewed the wayside, and the 
 resinous odor of which is so much finer than any 
 distilled perfumes. They at last came out fol- 
 lowing directions given them by wayfarers like 
 themselves by the small enclosure where Pere- 
 grine White, the baby born while the Mayflower lay 
 off Cape Cod, was laid to rest after a long life of 
 eighty years. It is a secluded spot, from whence 
 you look off over the flat marshes, a wide expanse, 
 silent save for the occasional call of a passing sea- 
 gull or other aquatic fowl. Governor Josias Wins- 
 low is buried here, the first native governor of 
 Plymouth. It is not far from the old home of 
 Daniel Webster, who himself lies here. It was a
 
 TO AND FRO IN PILGRIM LAND. 123 
 
 spot he loved well, and he caused the trees on his 
 plantations to be so cut that, through a long vista, 
 he could look from a window in his library the 
 window above the fire-place out upon this quaint 
 old country "bury ing-ground." 
 
 Dick and Suzette dismounted and walked about 
 for a brief time, and then back through Kingston 
 again, where the recently launched Stafford floated, 
 apparently as much at home on the little stream 
 as though she had spent her six years there instead 
 of as many hours ; and then on through Rocky 
 Nook, where many of the Mayflower Pilgrims came 
 to live in the later days of the colony, and so into 
 Plymouth town just as the sun was sending level 
 beams of golden light through the shallows of the 
 bay.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE ADVENTURE OF JOHN BILLINGTON. 
 
 Under the greenwood tree, 
 Who loves to lie with me, 
 And tune his merry note 
 Unto the sweet bird's throat, 
 Come hither, come hither, come hither ! 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 T^ACH day when they returned from their ride 
 -* ' they did two things. The first thing was 
 to water Castor and Pollux at the drinking-font on 
 Spring Hill. On the font is this inscription : 
 
 And there is a very sweete brooke 
 Runnes under the Hill Side and many 
 Delicate springes of as good water 
 
 As can be drunke. 
 
 Wm Bradford 1620. 
 
 A neighboring marketman kindly lent them a 
 pail for their horses, while they themselves took 
 a draught of the " sweete " water from the tin 
 dipper chained to the font. Though there are 
 many delicate springs along the brookside, as in 
 Pilgrim days, this is preeminently the " Pilgrim 
 Spring."
 
 
 OUTLET, BILLINGTON SEA
 
 ADVENTURE OF JOHN BILLING TON. 125 
 
 From these delicate springs the old Pilgrim 
 town was supplied with water for many genera- 
 tions. Uncle Tom could remember when a cer- 
 tain old sexton, a true Old Mortality, carried it 
 about in buckets hung from his shoulders by a 
 kind of yoke. 
 
 The other thing was to ride down by the small 
 gray house with its honeysuckle-shaded window, 
 and tell little Bess all about where they had been. 
 She very quickly learned to recognize the tread of 
 Castor and Pollux ; for a horse has as individual 
 a step as has a man, and you know how quickly 
 we learn to recognize the step of one we love. 
 And her eyes would be all alight and eager as 
 they drew rein by her window and the horses 
 thrust in their heads. When there was a long 
 story to tell, Suzette would say, "We'll just ride 
 up and leave the horses, and then I '11 come back 
 and tell you all about it." Dick often came back 
 too, though sometimes taken possession of by 
 other boys for a game of ball or lawn tennis. 
 Suzette played lawn tennis also ; but so deep was 
 her interest in little Bess, and so much had she 
 come to love her, that no pleasure was strong 
 enough to draw her away from her daily visit to 
 her.
 
 126 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 And Teddy ? Ah, Teddy was never far away 
 in those days, and almost always they saw him 
 either going out or returning, and he touched his 
 bristling straw hat with an awkward courtesy, it 
 is true, but it was a real courtesy. He had apolo- 
 gized for his fault to Miss Moore, as he said he 
 would, and was trying to grow like the boy he 
 admired so much. 
 
 He brought the buttercups to Suzette till there 
 were no more, and then searched the woods and 
 fields for fresh flowers. He found the lovely are- 
 thusa, and in late August the sabbatia. This is 
 one of the loveliest flowers to be found in the 
 old Pilgrim town, only rivaled, in fact, by the 
 exquisite mayflower. The sabbatia grows in wet 
 places by the side of ponds, sometimes encircling 
 a small pond with a fairy ring of pink. 
 
 Suzette gave a little shriek of delight when she 
 saw it. It lives a long time in water after being 
 cut, and a bouquet of it stood in little Bess's win- 
 dow for many days, the small green buds coming 
 to their maturity of pink splendor in the shade of 
 the honeysuckle. 
 
 One day they followed the town brook up to 
 its source in Billington Sea, not, however, by 
 riding across lots and jumping fences, as Dick had 
 proposed, but by the established road.
 
 ADVENTURE OF JOHN BILLING TON. 127 
 
 This " sea " was named for the Francis Billing- 
 ton who came so near blowing up the Mayflower, 
 and is a small lake. One day, in the January of 
 1621, Francis climbed a tall tree, doubtless after 
 a bird's nest of some sort, a crow's or a hawk's, 
 and, putting his head out at the top, he saw afar 
 off a sheet of gleaming blue water. Telling what 
 he had seen, he was sent with one of the men to 
 explore. Armed with muskets, and making their 
 way cautiously through the wood for fear of In- 
 dians, they came by-and-by to this lake, set in 
 thick woods alternating with open grassy gkdes, 
 like a park. 
 
 In the center of the lake was a lovely island. 
 They might have seen a deer come down to drink, 
 or heard the cry of a startled loon, or seen gently 
 rising above the trees the curling smoke from a 
 wigwam. But that would be all of visible life. 
 To-day it is the haunt of picnickers, and the 
 sweet solitude has fled. 
 
 Because the boy Francis was really the dis- 
 coverer, the lake was named for him. 
 
 It was in telling little Bess about this lake that 
 Suzette told her the story of how John Billington 
 was lost and found. These two boys, John and 
 Francis, seem to have been a stirring pair of lads, 
 with a genius for getting into scrapes.
 
 128 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 Perhaps they inherited this genius for mischief 
 from their father, who was not a good man. He 
 was not a Pilgrim, but had smuggled himself and 
 two boys in among them. The very first year, 
 for some offence, he was sentenced to have his 
 neck and heels tied together, a severe punish- 
 ment which soon brought a culprit to terms. 
 
 John wandered off one day in June into the 
 woods. What he was after history does not tell 
 us, but my boy reader can easily imagine. What 
 does take a boy into the woods on a June day ? 
 
 It- would not be a difficult matter now to get 
 lost in Plymouth woods, and when John Billington 
 was lost in them they must have been even more 
 extensive and much nearer the town. He wan- 
 dered in these woods for five days, living on ber- 
 ries and what else he could find ; strawberries, 
 doubtless, and the tender leaves of the " box- 
 berry " and its spicy red fruit, and sassafras, 
 browsing about as the deer did. But at the best 
 his fare must have been unsatisfactory to a boy 
 with a boy's appetite, and it must have been with 
 joy that he finally lighted upon an Indian planta- 
 tion called Manomet, about twenty miles south of 
 Plymouth. These Indians did not keep him, how- 
 ever, but passed him on to Nauset, further down
 
 ADVENTURE OF JOHN BILLING TON. 129 
 
 on the Cape the Indian name for what is now 
 Eastham. 
 
 There was great anxiety at Plymouth, of course, 
 over his disappearance, and many speculations 
 as to what had become of him whether the 
 Indians had got him, or the wolves had eaten him, 
 or whether he had tumbled into one of the many 
 ponds and been drowned. But one day word 
 came that he v/as alive and among the Indians, 
 and a party of men was at once dispatched in the 
 shallop to bring him home. And, as usual, they 
 wrote down an account of it, beginning in this 
 
 wise : 
 
 A 
 
 VOYAGE MADE BY TEN 
 
 of our men to the Kingdom of 
 
 Nauset to seeke a boy that had 
 
 lost himself in the woods 
 
 with such incidents as 
 
 befell us in that 
 
 VOYAGE. 
 
 The weather was fair when they started, but a 
 storm of rain came on, with lightning and great 
 claps of thunder, and a waterspout formed near 
 them. But they weathered these perils, and that 
 night put into the harbor of Cummaquid (Barn- 
 stable). They had taken with them Squanto and
 
 130 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 another Indian named Tokamahamon, and so, the 
 next morning, espying some Indians catching 
 lobsters, they sent these two interpreters to tell 
 them who they were and to ask about John. 
 
 The Indians said John was well and was at 
 Nauset, and politely invited the Pilgrims to break- 
 fast, which invitation they accepted, and made the 
 acquaintance of the sachem lyanough, a young 
 man of twenty-five, gentle, courteous, and " fayre- 
 conditioned," and not a bit like a savage, they 
 said, only in his " attyre." 
 
 The breakfast was plentiful, but one thing dis- 
 tressed them, or, as they said, " was grievous unto 
 them." While they were eating, an old woman 
 a hundred years old came to see them because 
 she had never seen any English before But the 
 moment her eyes fell upon them she burst into 
 a great passion of tears and cried out for her 
 three sons, whom Hunt, the Englishman who 
 stole Squanto, had carried off in his ship and sold 
 as slaves in Spain, "thus depriving her of the 
 comfort of her children in her old age." 
 
 "Poor, poor old Indian woman!" said little 
 Bess softly, at this stage in the story. 
 
 Nauset was the place of "The First Encoun- 
 ter," so when the ten men arrived there they did
 
 ADVENTURE OF JOHN BILLINGTON. 131 
 
 not venture on shore. At low tide the Indians 
 came down to their boat in great numbers, and 
 among them was Maramoick, whose pretty corn 
 they took. And they told him if he would come 
 to Plymouth they would pay him for it, or they 
 would bring the pay to him ; and he said he 
 would come to Plymouth. 
 
 It is an interesting fact to know, and here as 
 well as anywhere, that Plymouth was not so called 
 first by the Pilgrims, but had received its name 
 years before from Charles I of England. The 
 Pilgrims did not see fit to change it, but re- 
 tained the name partly in memory of Plymouth, 
 England, whence the Mayflower had sailed. 
 
 But of all these Indians they permitted only 
 two to come into the boat, of whom they again 
 made inquiries concerning John. And that night, 
 after sunset, their sachem, Aspinet, came with a 
 company of a hundred Indians, one of them carry- 
 ing John on his shoulder, and while fifty waited on 
 shore, with their bows and arrows in readiness, 
 the other fifty waded to the shallop and delivered 
 him up. He was covered with beads, and was in 
 good condition. And after giving Aspinet a 
 knife, and another to the Indian who had first 
 entertained John, they returned to Plymouth.
 
 132 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 And it can be easily imagined how, when the 
 shallop sailed up the brook of sweet waters to her 
 anchorage " Only just a little way from here, 
 little Bess ; just think of it ! " said Suzette the 
 children flocked down its banks to welcome him, 
 and what a hero he was among them as he told 
 his adventures and plumed himself upon them ! 
 
 " And oh, I should like to have been there ! " 
 said Suzette, as usual ; and Dick laughed. 
 
 "Sue," he said, "if you'd have been every- 
 where you wish to be, you 'd be a thousand years 
 old." 
 
 But little Bess did not "wish." She could hear 
 about the loveliest things and times without wish- 
 ing to possess the one or to be present at the 
 other. She seemed to have the happy gift of 
 content.
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 A WET EVENING. 
 
 I rose up with the cheerful morn, 
 
 No lark more blithe, no flower more gay ; 
 
 And, like the bird that haunts the thorn 
 I merrily sang the livelong day. 
 
 Cumnor Hall Ballad. 
 
 I DO trust, brother, that nobody will come for 
 you to-night." Thus spake aunt Penelope as 
 she sat in the chimney-corner with her crocheting, 
 a soft, white, fleecy heap, that quite filled her lap 
 and foamed over down the side of her gown. 
 
 A wood-fire was burning cheerfully in the big, 
 old-fashioned fire-place, and the gas not yet having 
 been lighted, the shadows cast therefrom danced 
 gayly upon the parlor walls. 
 
 In the opposite corner sat uncle Tom, leaning 
 back in an ample easy-chair of sufficient height in 
 the back for his head to rest comfortably. His 
 legs were stretched out upon the broad hearth and 
 rested on the fender. At his feet lay a large 
 white cat, Pickwick by name, his own particular 
 pet, who, having rubbed up and down the afore- 
 
 133
 
 134 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 said pair of legs and purred his content, had 
 now curled himself up for a lengthy, luxurious nap. 
 
 Dick was leaning upon the back of aunt Penel- 
 ope's chair, while Suzette lay upon the rug by the 
 side of Pickwick. 
 
 " It is such a rough night," aunt Pen went on, 
 " that no one is likely to venture in, and I have 
 told Mehitable we would take our tea here. It will 
 be so cozy." 
 
 "And I will fetch the tables, auntie," said 
 Suzette, springing up. And she forthwith pro- 
 ceeded to remove the bric-a-brac and books from 
 two small tables, one of which she placed at uncle 
 Tom's elbow and the other beside aunt Penelope. 
 
 " And I will make the tea, may I not ? " she 
 asked eagerly. " I know how. Mamma has taught 
 me." 
 
 "Yes," replied aunt Pen. "Mehitable shall 
 bring in the little copper tea-kettle, and you shall 
 make tea and serve uncle Tom." 
 
 "And I do hope 'old Mis' Keziah Holmes up 
 to Manimet ' won't be taken sick to-night," said 
 Dick. 
 
 "I trust not," responded uncle Tom, "nor any- 
 body else. For I am tired." 
 
 Aunt Pen looked up anxiously. " Oh, you need
 
 A WET EVENING. 
 
 135 
 
 n't be alarmed, Pen," said uncle Tom, smiling 
 affectionately at her. " A man and a doctor may 
 be permitted to say that he is tired once or twice 
 a year without being looked at as though he 
 showed signs of typhoid fever." 
 
 " But it is so unusual, Tom, for you to confess 
 to being tired," was aunt Pen's reply. 
 
 It was a pretty sight to look at Suzette 
 making tea. So thought uncle Tom as he lay 
 back lazily in his chair, watching her deft fingers 
 as they measured out the tea, poured on the 
 boiling water, and covered up tea and tea-pot with 
 the cozy. 
 
 A storm was raging without from the east, and 
 the rain, driven by the gale, beat fitfully against 
 the window-panes, while the great lindens moaned 
 and groaned in harmony with the surf, which could 
 be heard booming on the beach. 
 
 " It 's a wild night," said uncle Tom, " and I 
 hope no unfortunate vessel is upon our shores." 
 
 " It tastes like our grandmother's tea," he said 
 as he drained his cup. " Another cup, if you 
 please, pussy. Your great-grandmother had a 
 knack at cooking, or else it was my boy's appe- 
 tite, I don't know which. But I 've never eaten 
 any shortcakes like hers. And her pearlash cakes
 
 136 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 do you remember them, Pen ? Dear old grand- 
 mother ! We were sometimes a sad trial to her ; " 
 and putting down his third empty cup uncle Tom 
 sank into a reverie. 
 
 "Tell me about my great-grandmother, please, 
 uncle Tom," said Suzette, after Mehitable had 
 taken out the tea-things. She had pulled up a 
 hassock beside him and, seating herself upon it, 
 leaned against his knee. " And why were you a 
 trial, you and aunt Pen ? and papa was papa a 
 trial too ? " 
 
 " He was younger than Pen and I, you know, 
 but he was generally with us. Do you remember 
 that time we camped out, Pen ? " 
 
 Aunt Pen looked up from her crochet, and 
 smiled. " Don't I !" she said. 
 
 " Oh, tell us about it ! " entreated Suzette. " It 's 
 just the night for a story. When we have a great 
 snow-storm in Colorado, papa always talks about 
 Massachusetts and when he was a boy. Oh, I do 
 love to hear about when papa was a boy. It seems 
 so droll that he should ever have been a little boy." 
 
 " You know, pussy, that our grandmother and 
 your great-grandmother lived in Halifax. It 's 
 only twelve miles from here, and I mean you shall 
 go up there and see the old place some day before
 
 A WET EVENING. 137 
 
 t 
 
 you go back. It 's changed a good deal, but still 
 there 's a good deal left as it was when I was a boy. 
 It is a great two-storied farm-house which has been 
 added to from time to time in the past, and in my 
 grandfather's day there were no end of farm-build- 
 ings : lower barns, as they were called, and tool- 
 house and carriage-houses and sheds, granaries, a 
 great piggery, and sheep barns with low racks and 
 mows ; and then the upper barns and stable and a 
 cider-mill. 
 
 " To us children, living down here in Plymouth, 
 it was a paradise. We used to go there often, and 
 one summer, when the scarlet fever broke out here 
 in Plymouth, we were sent up for the summer, and 
 that was the time we proved such a trial. 
 
 "There was a deal of farm-work always going 
 on, and we had no end of fun helping plant corn. 
 Have you forgotten the rhyme, Pen ? 
 
 One for the blackbird, 
 
 One for the crow, 
 Two for the cut- worm, 
 
 And three to let grow. 
 
 And in every fourth hill in every third row we 
 dropped a fat pumpkin seed. 
 
 " We rode horse to plow, and sat on the har-
 
 138 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 row a dangerous piece of business that ! And 
 then when haying came, we helped rake up and 
 stowed on the cart. I remember one day the cart 
 tipped and the hay slipped and we rolled out. Pen 
 and I were eleven then." (Uncle Tom and aunt 
 Pen were twins, like Dick and Suzette.) " Rich- 
 ard was only seven. But he generally managed to 
 keep up with us. When he could n't, we picked 
 him up and carried him. He was a fat little fel- 
 low and a tolerable lift. 
 
 "We stayed on into the autumn, and used to 
 hang around the saw-mill a good deal. It was a 
 fascinating place, with the dam and great water- 
 wheel and all, and we used to ride on the log. We 
 grew careless at last, and it 's a wonder we were 
 not sawed in two. We came extraordinarily near 
 it once or twice. Our grandmother never knew 
 we did that. We kept it strictly private, as we 
 did some other things. Not that we stood so 
 much in fear of her ; only we knew she would 
 disapprove and would forbid our doing it. And, 
 naughty as we were, we were not quite equal to 
 disobeying outright. So as we wanted to do it, 
 we thought it safer not to tell her. 
 
 " The cider-making came on in September. Our 
 grandfather had a number of great apple orchards,
 
 A WET EVENING. 
 
 139 
 
 and single apple-trees were scattered about his 
 farm of a thousand acres, so he made a great 
 quantity of cider. The apples were put into a 
 hopper and ground by two horses, merry-go- 
 round fashion, and were then squeezed in a great 
 press. This mass of apples in press was called 
 'the cheese.' Fresh cider was made daily, so that 
 barrels of it were standing about in every stage of 
 fermentation, and we sucked the cider from these 
 with a straw. 
 
 " Our grandmother made real cheeses, too, and 
 we always came in for the ' rim ' when they were 
 turned in the press. So you see there was no end 
 of pleasures, to say nothing of the cattle and 
 horses, the sheep and chickens and ducks. 
 
 " At milking-time we used to hang round with 
 our mugs and the men would fill them right from 
 the cows. And very delicious that milk was, eh, 
 Pen ? The nectar of the gods, and no mistake ! 
 I remember that Pen, who always wanted to know 
 how to do everything, learned to milk, and so she 
 possesses an accomplishment to-day of which few 
 of her countrywomen can boast. 
 
 " There were fields of blackberries and huckle- 
 berries, and it was during an expedition for picking 
 berries that we conceived the idea of camping out.
 
 I4O LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 "They used to make charcoal in Halifax, and 
 they still may do so, for aught I know, and our 
 grandfather had his pits at what was called ' The 
 Island,' though it was not an island. It was a 
 great tract of wood and pasture lands lying on 
 Monponsett pond. These pits were made of wood, 
 piled up in cone shape and covered in with turf. 
 They were set on fire, and, if properly tended, the 
 wood burned slowly and became completely 
 charred. 
 
 "The men who tended these pits day and night 
 built for themselves small ' cabins,' so called, as a 
 shelter from storms and a place to sleep in. They 
 were made of boards and looked like small, sharp 
 roofs set on the ground. There was a rude fire- 
 place of stones at one end, and the smoke of their 
 fire found its way out as it could, there being no 
 chimney. The pits were fired in a new place 
 every year. 
 
 " On that day I spoke of, when we went berry- 
 ing, we came out into an open, pretty place just 
 by the pond where the pits had been the year be- 
 fore. Over the black circles they had left the 
 grass was growing green and thick. The cabin 
 was still in good order, for we went in and built a 
 fire and toasted the cheese we had brought for
 
 A WET EVENING. 141 
 
 lunch. Grandmother was with us and one of the 
 farm-boys, for it was a regular berrying party. 
 There was a narrow beach just by the opening, 
 and the water was shallow. 
 
 " And it was after we got back that night that 
 Pen and I said how much we would like to go 
 down there and camp out and catch fish to eat and 
 pick berries. We should n't want much else, we 
 thought. We talked it all over in one of those 
 cozy cubby-holes, the small, irregular openings be- 
 tween the piles of freshly sawn boards and planks 
 that lined the lane leading to our grandfather's 
 house. These were favorite resorts where we 
 talked over things. 
 
 " I am afraid we were uncommonly thoughtless, 
 for, in all our plans, it never seemed to occur to us 
 that we might cause a great deal of anxiety by our 
 unexplained disappearance. And yet we must 
 have been conscious we were not doing right, by 
 our keeping the matter so close. We were careful 
 not to speak of it except in low tones and in se- 
 cret places. We had always been exceedingly 
 fond of Robinson Crusoe, as most children are, 
 and completely fascinated with the details of his 
 life on the island, and longed to go and do some- 
 thing like it,"
 
 142 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 Here Suzette looked up and smiled with a syn> 
 pathetic comprehension of the feelings of the boy 
 Tom and the girl Penelope. 
 
 "Oh, I understand that, uncle Tom," she said. 
 " Dick and I have planned many, many times what 
 we would do if we were cast on an uninhabited 
 island, and had to take care of ourselves." 
 
 " So we planned that we 'd go to the cabin and 
 camp out, and little Dick was to go too, of course. 
 He knew all about it, for he had heard us talk, but 
 he kept the secret, for he was a loyal little fellow, . 
 and would never have thought of telling anything 
 we told him not to, and he considered everything 
 we did was always just right. 
 
 "We planned to go on a particular day just at 
 night, and we saved up our lunch to take with us 
 till we could catch some fish. We could have 
 helped ourselves to anything we liked, for both 
 pantries were always open to us. But we had 
 some queer ideas about what it was right to do, 
 not reflecting that the whole thing was wrong. 
 
 " We did take a tin pail, however, to put our 
 lunches in, which we secreted in one of the cubby- 
 holes in the boards till such time as we should 
 start. Pen, with housewifely instinct, bethought 
 herself that we should want something to put over
 
 A WET EVENING. 143 
 
 us at night, and we secretly appropriated a couple 
 of striped red-and-blue blankets that lay upon a 
 shelf in the closet of Pen's room, thinking them 
 more homely and not so valuable as the white 
 blankets. They proved, however, to be an heir- 
 loom, having been spun and woven by our great- 
 great-grandmother, and consequently greatly cher- 
 ished by our grandmother. 
 
 " These we rolled up into as small a bundle as 
 possible, and also deposited in the cubby-hole. 
 And then we were ready, fully provisioned and 
 equipped, for I was to take my fishing-line in order 
 to supply our family larder, and we considered our 
 pocket-knives as sufficient cutlery. Spoons, plates, 
 forks, etc., we spurned as altogether superfluous 
 in camp life. Little Dick, however, persisted in 
 taking his silver drinking-cup, from which he had 
 never been separated since his christening day. 
 And never did explorers set out for a new country 
 equipped with a finer store of good spirits and a 
 smaller kit than did we that summer's night as 
 we slipped furtively from out the remotest of the 
 six outside doors of the farm-house, and through 
 the orchard behind the shelter of the piles of 
 boards, to the wooded lane leading on to the 
 island.
 
 144 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 " We had chosen the milking-time, when every- 
 body on the place was busy, the men at the milk- 
 ing, our grandfather at his desk, our grandmother 
 turning the cheeses, and Chatty and the little 
 housemaid at the supper which they were prepar- 
 ing for us all. 
 
 " We hurried along the first mile, not speaking 
 much, Pen carrying the tin pail, and I the bundle 
 of blankets. We reached the end of the lane and 
 started across lots, taking a cattle - path. The 
 island was used for pasturing large herds of cattle 
 and flocks of sheep in the summer, and in moving 
 from place to place and going to the pond to 
 drink, they had made well-trodden paths. 
 
 " We were well on our way, and were crossing 
 the great Ridge Pasture, which was nearly a quar- 
 ter of a mile in length, though much less in width, 
 when we were startled by a roaring sound, and, 
 turning, we saw at the upper end of the pasture 
 a herd of cattle, from which one had detached 
 itself, and was coming toward us at a fast trot, 
 with head down, and sending along the ground 
 before it low bellowings, like the rumbling of nine- 
 pin balls. 
 
 " We recognized the creature at once. It was 
 our grandfather's great Scotch bull, Wallace, a
 
 A WET EVENING. 145 
 
 formidable beast, black, huge, and of enormous 
 strength. Only a few weeks before he had tossed 
 into the air one of the men in the milking-yard, 
 who had only been saved from being killed by 
 the others, who beat the brute off with their 
 milking-stools. Since that time he had been 
 put to pasture. 
 
 " Well, we were three rather helpless creatures 
 at just that moment, and had it not been that 
 near at hand grew a broad and low-branching oak- 
 tree, it had been all over with us. This tree had 
 been suffered to grow in the center of the field 
 as a shade for the cattle, and, seizing little Dick's 
 hand, I cried to Pen, ' Run, run for the tree ! ' At 
 the same time I dropped the bundle and Pen the 
 pail, and she took Dick's other hand and we ran. 
 How we did run ! Luckily it was n't far, and as 
 soon as we reached it, Pen scrambled up, and then 
 I lifted Dick and she pulled him up, and then up 
 I went myself, and double-quick, too, for Black 
 Wallace was close upon us, and I was barely out 
 of his reach when he ran his big head right 
 against the tree-trunk with such force the whole 
 tree quivered from top to bottom. But we held 
 to the branches and were safe. 
 
 " Of course he was in a towering rage at his
 
 146 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 failure to get at us, and tore up the turf with his 
 feet, filling the air all about him with gravel and 
 dirt, and walking round and round the tree bellow- 
 ing fearfully. He kept this up for some time and 
 then betook himself to where our tin pail and 
 bundle of blankets lay, and vented his rage on 
 them. He trampled the tin pail flat and tossed 
 up the bundle with his horns. As it came down, 
 the pins with which we had fastened it gave way 
 and the blankets fell open. The red in them en- 
 raged him still more, I suppose, for he tossed and 
 tore them with his horns and trampled upon them 
 till they were literally nothing but rags and shreds. 
 And that was the end of grandmother's cherished 
 heirlooms. 
 
 " By this time the sun had gone down and dusk 
 was coming on, and he slowly and reluctantly 
 withdrew, returning to his herd, and pretty soon 
 they all moved off to their quarters for the night. 
 
 " We did not venture down, however, until they 
 had disappeared, and when we did, we found that 
 we were quite stiff from being in such cramped 
 positions for so long. Each of us, as we learned 
 afterwards by mutual confession, was secretly wish- 
 ing to go home, but neither liked to own to the 
 feeling. So we walked on slowly the remainder of
 
 A WET EVENING, 147 
 
 the way and came through a bit of woods to the 
 open space where the cabin stood. By the time 
 we reached it, it was quite dark. 
 
 " Dick was tired out and began to cry for his 
 milk. He had stuck to his little silver cup all 
 through, but there was nothing to put in it. Black 
 Wallace had spoiled our provisions. It was too 
 dark to fish or pick berries. I would have kindled 
 a fire, but when Pen mentioned it, we found that 
 we had entirely forgotten to bring any matches ! 
 Wretched little babes in the woods that we were ! 
 There was nothing for it but to make the best of 
 it till morning came, and then with the very first 
 gleam of daylight we would go home. It grew 
 chilly, and Pen took Dick into her lap and wrapped 
 about him her scanty little dress-skirt, and he soon 
 cried himself to sleep." 
 
 " Poor little papa ! " interjected Suzette softly. 
 
 " After he had fallen asleep and we were sit- 
 ting, feeling about as forlorn as we could, all at 
 once there came a flash of lightning. Now aunt 
 Pen, when she was a girl, was rather nervous 
 about thunder, and though I always pooh-poohed 
 at her fear in manly fashion, I must confess that, 
 big boy as I thought myself, the prospect of a 
 thunder-storm under the circumstances we three
 
 148 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 alone in that open cabin, for a search had failed to 
 find any cover for the space that served as a door 
 was not, to say the least, agreeable. 
 
 " But there we were, and there was no help for 
 it. The lightning grew more and more vivid, and 
 the thunder pealed. It grew intensely dark and 
 we crept into the further end of the cabin from 
 the door and crouched down close together. ' O 
 Tom,' said Pen, ' I wish we never, never had 
 thought of coming ! What will grandma think 
 has become of us ? ' And then for the first time 
 I had a perception of the distress our action 
 might cause at home. 
 
 " However, as I said, it was too late. Not too 
 late to repent, which I did most bitterly, but too 
 late to prevent the result of our wrong-doing. At 
 last the rain broke and came down in torrents, 
 and trickled through the openings between the 
 boards upon us, adding to our discomfort. We did 
 not speak again, but sat close together, Pen clasp- 
 ing Dick in her arms and I with my arms about 
 Pen. 
 
 " By-and-by the storm passed, and when I went 
 and looked out I saw stars. At that moment, 
 too, I heard a cracking of twigs and rustling of 
 branches in the edge of the wood, as though some-
 
 A WET EVENING. 149 
 
 thing or somebody were moving there. Was it 
 Black Wallace ? Perhaps he knew of this cabin 
 and was coming here for shelter. Or it might be 
 a troop of other cattle, or a tramp. I stood 
 breathless with my eyes fixed in that direction, 
 not daring to speak, and not wanting to tell Pen, 
 who still sat on the ground with Dick in her arms. 
 
 " I heard the sound again nearer and more con- 
 tinuous, and I knew it was n't the tread of cattle. 
 Presently a man stepped out from the shade of 
 the wood and advanced towards the cabin. I drew 
 back and he looked in. 
 
 " ' Child'en,' he said, ' be you here ? ' and I 
 recognized the voice of Ephraim, our grandfather's 
 head man. 
 
 " Pen and I both answered, ' Oh, yes, we 're 
 here, Ephraim, and do take us home.' 
 
 " ' And little Dick ? ' he asked in anxious tones. 
 
 " ' He 's here all right," answered Pen. ' He 's 
 fast asleep, but I 'm afraid he 's cold.' 
 
 "Ephraim took him from Pen's arms inside his 
 great-coat, and wrapped it round him. ' Come, 
 child'en,' he said, 'the wagon's jest out here.' 
 And we made our way through the wet under- 
 brush, and tumbled in as best we could in our 
 chilled condition. Ephraim drove with Dick still
 
 150 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 in his arms, and a little further on we picked up 
 Ben Smith, another of the farm men, and still 
 further on, Sam, and then Lew Willis, all of whom 
 had been in search of us. 
 
 " I only spoke once on the way back, and that 
 was to ask Ephraim how he happened to look for 
 us at the cabin. 
 
 " ' Sam said he heard you one day talkin' in the 
 boards about campin' out in the cabin, but he 
 did n't think you 'd be such fools as to try it, an' 
 so he never thought about it ag'in till you war n't 
 to be found to-day,' said Ephraim succinctly. 
 
 " Fools ! yes, that was exactly what we were. 
 
 " Grandmother was at the end door when we 
 drove into the yard. She took little Dick from 
 Ephraim, and looked at Pen and me. She did n't 
 say a word, but her look was dreadfully cutting. 
 She carried Dick into her own room, and Chatty 
 took Pen and me into the sitting-room, and put us 
 down before the great wood-fire, and pulled off 
 our wet shoes and stockings, and rubbed our feet, 
 and administered hot ginger-tea, and then gave us 
 a nice hot supper, we feeling very unworthy all 
 the time. 
 
 " Then after Dick was snugly in bed, grand- 
 mother came for us and saw us into bed, making
 
 A WET EVENING. 151 
 
 us comfortable but not speaking, only, when all 
 was done, saying ' Good-night ' gravely. 
 
 " But next morning we went to her and con- 
 fessed our naughtiness, and had a good long talk 
 with her. She was a good grandmother, Pen ; " 
 and uncle Tom looked over to aunt Penelope, who 
 looked up from her crocheting, and there were 
 tears in her eyes. 
 
 " A good grandmother," repeated uncle Tom 
 meditatively. 
 
 They sat in silence for a few moments, and then 
 uncle Tom spoke again. 
 
 " I have n't quite finished, pussy," he said. 
 "There's one more thing you'll like to hear. 
 After we had had our talk with grandmother, she 
 said she would like us to think it all over a while; 
 and she sent me to one unoccupied room, and Pen 
 to another, till she should call us, and locked the 
 doors of both rooms. 
 
 " Poor little Dick, who was feeling that some- 
 thing was wrong, he did not know what, always, 
 as I said, placing implicit faith in Pen and myself 
 poor little Dick felt quite forlorn at being cut 
 off from us in this unaccustomed manner, and 
 
 " But I must tell you of a peculiar arrangement 
 for the accommodation of cats in grandfather's
 
 152 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 house, before I can go on satisfactorily. At the 
 foot of one of the back stairs, in the outer wall, 
 was a round, smooth cat-hole. A cat, entering 
 through this, could proceed on up the stairs and 
 through an unfinished apartment over an exten- 
 sion, and through a second cat-hole into a bed- 
 room, and through a third, and a fourth, and a 
 fifth, and so on, until her journey ended in the 
 attic, which, it was said, was once used as a gran- 
 ary in my great-grandfather's day. It was con- 
 sidered essential, in order to take care of the rats 
 and mice that foraged on this corn day and night, 
 that the family cats should have access to it at all 
 hours. Hence these cat-holes. 
 
 " Well, while Pen was sitting in the room to 
 which our grandmother had consigned her, and 
 feeling not in the cheerfulest mood, who or what 
 should enter through the cat-hole of the door but 
 old Lady Beautiful, the big tortoise-shell cat. 
 Two small packages were tied about her neck. 
 Pen knew in a moment what they meant : that 
 little Dick, grieving his heart out over our fancied 
 disgrace in being locked up, had sent these by 
 Lady Beautiful to comfort us. She took off and 
 opened one package. It contained a small seed- 
 cake of a kind of which little Dick was very fond,
 
 A WET EVENING. 153 
 
 and which Chatty always kept on hand for him. 
 So she sent on old Lady Beautiful to me with the 
 remaining package, which reached me promptly 
 and in the same fashion. 
 
 " It was the last straw, pussy, and it broke 
 the camel's back. When I saw that little seed- 
 cake of Dick's, and thought into what peril I had 
 brought him by my foolishness and wrong-doing, 
 I gave in and cried like a big baby. And in this 
 condition grandma found me, and comforted me 
 with telling me that she was sure that all this 
 experience, wrong and bitter as it was, would help 
 make a man of me. And again I say, dear Pen, 
 she was a good grandmother." 
 
 Here uncle Tom's story ended, and for a few 
 moments no one spoke. Aunt Pen had dropped 
 her crochet and was looking over at him with eyes 
 full of affection. 
 
 The great logs with which Jason had replen- 
 ished the fire after tea had burned down into a 
 glowing bed of coals, and Suzette was gazing 
 thoughtfully into their depths of fiery rose. 
 
 The rain had ceased to beat against the window- 
 panes and the moaning of the lindens had stilled. 
 Dick, who had risen and was leaning again on aunt 
 Penelope's chair, softly patted her brown hair.
 
 154 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 The door opened and Jason put in his head. 
 
 " Somebody 's come down from Manimet," he 
 said. " Old Mis' Keziah Holmes is took bad ag'in ; 
 awful bad this time, they say." 
 
 "All right," said uncle Tom, arousing himself. 
 "Harness up Queen Bess." 
 
 And the symposium was ended.
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 \ 
 
 THE LAWN-TENNIS PARTY. 
 
 Be good, sweet maid, and let who will be clever; 
 Do noble things, not dream them, all day long: 
 And so make life, death, and that vast forever 
 
 One grand, sweet song. 
 
 Charles Kingsley. 
 
 A S I have before intimated, Suzette had made 
 ^~*- other acquaintances in Plymouth than little 
 Bess. The town was full of summer visitors from 
 all sections of the country, and there had been a 
 good many parties, chiefly of the lawn-tennis kind. 
 Just before the fall exodus aunt Penelope said 
 a return or acknowledgment of those courtesies 
 must be made, which should also take the form 
 of a lawn-tennis party. 
 
 Uncle Tom had a fine tennis court, smoothly 
 turfed, for lawn tennis was a game he particularly 
 approved, because it brought out the girls, who in 
 the past, he said, had had so little out-of-door life 
 permitted them. 
 
 " When I was a boy, a girl who liked ball and 
 boating, and birds'-nesting, and climbing trees 
 
 155
 
 156 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 and running, was called a 'romp' or a 'torn-boy.' 
 And many a sensitive girl was kept back from the 
 exercise she should have taken in order to keep 
 her in proper health, from dread of those names 
 being applied to her. Boarding-school misses 
 were taken out to walk in procession in pairs, with 
 a teacher put in at intervals, and none of them 
 ever dreamed of breaking ranks to climb a fence 
 for a flower, or to take a good healthy run. The 
 poor ladies who had them in charge would have 
 been aghast at such indiscretions. But, luckily, 
 my mother repudiated all such notions for Pen, 
 who did about what I did, and consequently she 
 can yet do her ten miles walk with any English- 
 woman of them all." 
 
 "They thought a good deal of their complex- 
 ions in those days," added aunt Pen, "and that 
 the only way to have a fine complexion was to 
 keep in the house and avoid the sun. They con- 
 sidered the greatest enemy to a fine skin to be 
 the sun.. The Mason girls used to come to school 
 wearing deep sun-bonnets and thick green veils 
 and gloves, besides carrying large parasols. They 
 had pallid, pasty skins which they thought fine." 
 
 "There is nothing that will give one a clear, 
 healthy skin like plenty of out-of-door exercise
 
 THE LAWN-TENNIS PARTY. 157 
 
 that and good food," declared uncle Tom. "Pallid 
 complexions and small waists ought to be under 
 an eternal ban. When croquet first came in, I 
 was thankful that at last American girls were 
 going to have a little of the right kind of liberty ; 
 liberty to exercise and grow strong and healthy. 
 And girls can't play lawn tennis with any success 
 unless they wear loose, light clothing." 
 
 This was uncle Tom's little lecture delivered at 
 the breakfast table to an audience of three, and was 
 drawn out by the proposition, made by aunt Pen, 
 that on the following Thursday Dick and Suzette 
 should give their lawn-tennis party. Then he fin- 
 ished his coffee, said " Good-morning," and went 
 off on his rounds. 
 
 Upon aunt Pen and Suzette devolved the task, 
 nay, the pleasure, of making out the invitation list. 
 It is a charming thing to do, especially for a girl 
 who, like Suzette, is fond of making others happy. 
 To have it in one's power to confer happiness 
 what is there in life better than that ? They 
 talked over each name and aunt Pen wrote them 
 down. They had already a goodly number when 
 Suzette suddenly stopped. 
 
 " Aun Pen," she said, " I wish I wish " and 
 then paused abruptly.
 
 158 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 " Well, pussy," laughed aunt Pen, adopting 
 uncle Tom's pet name, " what formidable wish is 
 it which you hesitate to speak ? " 
 
 " O aunt Pen, I wish, I do wish little Bess 
 might come." Aunt Pen was surprised, and she 
 confessed it. " Why, pussy, she has never been 
 out of the little gray house in all her life ! " 
 
 " I know it, auntie, and that 's the very reason 
 I wish she could come. Think how pleased she 
 would be ! " 
 
 "Too much so, I fear," replied aunt Pen gently. 
 " Think of the excitement to her weak nerves. 
 Tom has always counseled quiet for her. And 
 this would be such an overturning. No, I don't 
 believe it would be possible." 
 
 " But can't we ask uncle Tom ? " persisted 
 Suzette. " Perhaps he would think it would do 
 her good. At any rate, if he said No that would 
 settle it, and I should not feel so badly not to 
 have her." 
 
 Aunt Pen acquiesced in this suggestion, and 
 said she would ask uncle Tom herself, after 
 dinner. 
 
 His answer surprised her. After a moment's 
 thought he said, " Yes, I think it might be done. 
 We could send the carriage, and, if driven slowly,
 
 THE LAWN-TENNIS PARTY. 
 
 159 
 
 it would not distress her. Of course she must 
 come in her frame." 
 
 " Oh, yes, the bringing her could be managed, 
 Tom. What I was doubtful about was the effect 
 upon her of so much excitement. You know 
 you have always said that excitement was bad for 
 her." 
 
 " That is true, Pen," replied uncle Tom, with an 
 added gravity of tone and manner. " But I think 
 now it makes but little difference." 
 
 " Is she worse, Tom ? " 
 
 " She is no better. I asked Payne to look in 
 upon her when he was down last week. He 
 agrees with me that her case is hopeless. And 
 the disease, if disease it may be called, that 
 has crippled her short life, is making rapid pro- 
 gress. Let us give her what pleasure we can 
 while we have her." 
 
 Suzette herself took the invitation to little 
 Bess, and you would have thought, to have heard 
 her plans about how she should come and what she 
 should wear, and whereabouts in the lawn-tennis 
 court she should be placed so she could see every- 
 thing from the best point possible, and her specu- 
 lations as to what she would think, and, still 
 better, as to what she would say, and how she
 
 I6O LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 would have to tell it all over to her doll-family 
 the next day, to have heard all this, you would 
 have thought that little Bess was a small queen for 
 whose sole pleasure this show called a lawn-tennis 
 party had been gotten up, and that the other 
 expected guests were of no consequence whatever. 
 But knowing Suzette, you would be sure that she 
 would not fail in courtesy to them when the time 
 came, though apparently so absorbed in little 
 Bess. 
 
 She was brought up on the morning of the day. 
 Uncle Tom went himself for her, lifted her in, held 
 her all the way in his arms, and carried her up 
 to his own room, where he said she was to stay in 
 perfect quiet until the time came to take her out 
 to the lawn-tennis court. Suzette could stay in 
 the room, oh, yes ! for little Bess must not be left 
 alone. But she must not talk. 
 
 " Are you equal, pussy, to sitting still a couple 
 of hours and not speaking ? " 
 
 " Indeed I am, uncle Tom. I would n't tire her 
 for the world. But is n't she lovely ? " This was 
 said in a low tone, as uncle Tom went to a table 
 and took up a bottle from which he proceeded to 
 pour something into a wine-glass. 
 
 He had laid her down upon a lounge, from
 
 THE LA WN- TENNIS PAR TY. 1 6 I 
 
 whence she had a full view of the bay and the 
 distant horizon line. Well as he knew her and 
 all about her life, it had not occurred to him that 
 she had never seen the sea. 
 
 Aunt Pen had sent down a loose white frock 
 of fine wool for her to wear. It was brightened 
 about the throat with loops of pale -pink ribbon, 
 and ribbon of a similar color was run into the lace 
 that encircled her small wrists. The unusual 
 excitement had brought a soft pink flush into her 
 cheeks and an added brilliancy into her eyes. 
 Her face habitually wore that expression of sweet- 
 ness a little unearthly in its beauty that we 
 so often see. on the faces of those who have borne 
 the burden of a crippled life, and as she lay there 
 gazing intently out upon the sea, and entirely 
 lost to all other sights, she was indeed lovely in 
 the inmost sense of that word. 
 
 Presently she looked up. " Is that the sea, 
 Doctor Tom ? Teddy said 't was blue, but I did n't 
 ever think 't was like that." 
 
 It was a summer sea of that bright blue which 
 always seems more of heaven than of earth, as it 
 really is, for it owes its color to the azure depths 
 above it. 
 
 " Yes, that is the real sea, little Bess. And
 
 1 62 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 you shall lie there and look at it as long as you 
 like, only just drink this now. You '11 see a ship 
 coming presently. Ah ! there 's one now. Watch 
 it as it sails along." And watching it drift by afar 
 off, she soon drifted into a gentle and refreshing 
 slumber, as uncle Tom meant she should. 
 
 Suzette sat quietly by the window. Dick looked 
 in at the door, but was warned off by an impressive 
 shake of her finger. Mehitable came up, teetered 
 in on tiptoe and looked at little Bess sweetly 
 sleeping. " Dear little creatur' ! " she said in a 
 hoarse whisper, and teetered out again. 
 
 When she awoke, dinner was brought to her, 
 and uncle Tom fed her himself, administering the 
 cooling ice-cream as he would to a canary-bird. 
 
 " Open your beak, little bird," he said. " I 'm 
 the mother-bird, a great big bearded penguin. 
 Did you ever hear about penguins, little Bess ? 
 They wear black coats and caps and white waist- 
 coats. And when they stand up they sit down, 
 like the Irishman's toad, you know. When he 
 stood up he sat down, and when he walked he 
 galloped. There, take a little more. It 's nice 
 and cold. That 's the reason the Irishman did n't 
 like ice-cream. He took a mouthful and roared 
 out loud, it was so ' hot ' he said. It must have
 
 THE LAWN-TENNIS PARTY. 163 
 
 been the same Irishman who thought a turtle was 
 a snuff-box on legs. They don't have them in 
 Ireland, it seems. But I don't believe you know 
 what a snuff-box is, my little one. I shall have to 
 show you my grandfather's. It is a pretty silver 
 box and will do for stamps. Perhaps I shall give 
 it to Suzette for a keepsake, if she only keeps on 
 being good. But I expect every day she '11 do 
 something ' awfully ' naughty, as Teddy says." 
 
 Little Bess, who had been sipping ice-cream 
 and smiling while Doctor Tom talked, laughed out 
 gleefully at this. As if Suzette, who was a sun- 
 beam in her life, warming and cheering her, could 
 ever be otherwise than good ! Though the fact 
 is, everybody was good in little Bess's estimation. 
 She knew only degrees of goodness, nothing of 
 degrees of badness. That is one of the blessings 
 attending the state of invalidism such helpless 
 creatures bring out the good in those about them. 
 
 But the beautiful declaration of the apostle that 
 "one star differeth from another star in glory," 
 was true of little Bess's firmament. While all 
 were good, the goodness of some penetrated 
 more deeply into her heart, and Suzette was one 
 of these. Little Bess agreed with Teddy that no- 
 where in the wide world could there be another
 
 1 64 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 like her. She was unique in their world, of that 
 they were sure. 
 
 " I like strawberry ice-cream ; it tastes nice, an' 
 it 's so pretty. It 's like the ribbons Miss Pen sent 
 me. An' ain't this a pretty gown ? My mother 
 said I looked like one of Mis' Brewer's lilies." 
 
 " There, here 's the last, my little bird ; " and he 
 put down the ice-cream saucer. " But I entirely 
 forgot to ask after Squawleena, which is quite 
 shameful in a doctor. How is she and her poor 
 mother?" 
 
 " Poorly, very poorly," answered little Bess 
 gravely. " Squawleena is a dre'tful trial to her." 
 
 " Well, well, we must get Queen Victory to do 
 something. Queens can shut up naughty folks, 
 you know." 
 
 " Then I '11 tell Squawleena, an' p'r'aps it will 
 do her good." 
 
 Just before the hour set for the arrival of the 
 guests little Bess was carried out to the lawn- 
 tennis court and laid in a hammock carefully hung 
 by Doctor Tom himself under the shade of an 
 awning. 
 
 He had been called away, and had instructed 
 Jason how to carry her out and lay her therein 
 with the least discomfort to her.
 
 THE LAWN-TENNIS PARTY. 165 
 
 Little Bess knew and loved Jason. He often 
 looked in at the small gray house and brought her 
 tid-bits sent by Mehitable. For Doctor Tom had 
 more than one pensioner to whom Mehitable was 
 not only at liberty to send any delicacy she thought 
 best, but had been desired by him to do so. 
 
 Mehitable was never " ordered " to do things. 
 Both uncle Tom and aunt Pen would have as soon 
 thought of cutting off their right hands .as order- 
 ing either Jason or Mehitable, those faithful 
 friends as well as servitors. The learned and 
 scholarly Neander used to say to his serving- 
 man, " If you please, dear Carl ; " and I always 
 think of him whenever I hear uncle Tom address 
 Mehitable or Jason for I am acquainted with 
 Doctor Tom. 
 
 The hammock was half-filled with gay-colored 
 rugs and afghans, and upon these little Bess was 
 laid. The afghans were folded about her so as to 
 conceal the wooden frame, and as she lay there in 
 her white gown she did indeed look, as her poor 
 mother had said, like a fair and sweet lily reposing 
 upon a bed of more brilliant but less lovely flowers. 
 
 The guests were received by aunt Pen and Su- 
 zette in the lawn-tennis court, and of course none 
 of them failed to perceive at once the unusual ad-
 
 I 66 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 dition. Little Bess lay at the upper end of the 
 court near a small linden, under which stood a table 
 with ice-water and lemonade for the refreshment 
 of the players. 
 
 " What a lovely creature ! Who is she ? Your 
 sister ? " eagerly asked Esther Morton, a Philadel- 
 phia girl whom Suzette particularly liked. 
 
 A word sufficed to tell her of little Bess's help- 
 less condition, and that she was not Suzette' s 
 sister. 
 
 " Oh, can't she walk ? Poor, poor child ! " ex- 
 claimed Esther. " Do introduce me to her. I 
 should so like to speak to her." And the two 
 walked off together, while Sybil Smythe, turning 
 to her neighbor for the moment, who was also her 
 particular crony, said in a tone of deep disgust : 
 
 " Did you ever see anything like that ? Intro- 
 ducing Esther Morton to that child ! Why, her 
 mother is a washerwoman and scrubs our floors ! " 
 
 Her tone was low, however, for Miss Penelope 
 was not far away, and it would never do in Sy- 
 bil's estimation as well as in that of her mother 
 to offend the Watermans, who were not only of a 
 good old family, but were also rich. Richard Wat- 
 erman was reported to be enormously wealthy, a 
 large fortune having come to his wife from France.
 
 THE LAWN-TENNIS PARTY. l6j 
 
 As for Esther Morton's father, he was a money 
 prince. No, clearly it would never do to offend 
 either Suzette or Esther. The right thing, there- 
 fore, was to follow Esther's example and be 
 introduced. 
 
 " Little Bess," said Suzette, as she and Esther 
 came up to the hammock, "my friend, Esther 
 Morton, wishes to know you." 
 
 Esther had a particularly winsome smile, and as 
 she held out her hand and said in caressing tones, 
 " Is n't it beautiful out here ? I am so glad you 
 could come," little Bess responded with her sun- 
 niest smile. 
 
 " Yes, it 's lovely," she said, " an' 't was so good 
 of Doctor Tom an' Miss Pen to let me come. I 
 never see the sea before, an' I never see the lawn 
 tennis. Teddy 's told me about it. About the 
 nets an' chasin' the balls, an' the pretty dresses. 
 But they 're prettier than I thought," she said, 
 looking at Esther's blue-and-white tennis suit. 
 
 Esther patted the little hand which she contin- 
 ued to hold. 
 
 " And who is Teddy ? " she asked. 
 
 " Oh, he 's Mis' White's boy," responded little 
 Bess. " He lives with her an' does chores for 
 folks. But she ain't good to him, my mother says.
 
 1 68 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 My mother an' Mis' White go out to work together 
 an' she 's cross, my mother says. But Teddy 's 
 good. He 's real good to me. He 's a nice boy." 
 
 Here was a revelation to be made to the daugh- 
 ter of a money prince, thought Sybil Smythe, who 
 came up at that moment. And she looked to see 
 how Esther would take it. But Esther was evi- 
 dently not disturbed by the knowledge that little 
 Bess's mother went out to work. She still con- 
 tinued to pat the little hand she held, softly, and 
 smiled into the uplifted face. 
 
 " I should like to see Teddy," she said. " Is he 
 here this afternoon ? " 
 
 "No," replied little Bess, and a slightly troubled 
 look came into her eyes. " He said he wa' n't fit 
 to come, an' his clo'es wa' n't fit. But he 's nice, 
 Teddy is ever so nice. He 's good to me, an' 
 Archibald Yell, an' ev'rybody." 
 
 "Yes," said Suzette, "Teddy is a nice boy. 
 He's the nicest boy I know." 
 
 And little Bess smiled gratefully and held out 
 her other hand to her. 
 
 Then Sybil, concealing her disgust as well 
 as she could at being obliged to submit to the 
 humiliation of being introduced on equal terms to 
 the child of her mother's washerwoman, said : 
 
 " Please introduce me, Suzette."
 
 THE LAWN-TENNIS PARTY. 169 
 
 Now Suzette was a perfectly well-bred girl, as I 
 need not remind the reader of this book. She did, 
 however, long to say having learned to know 
 Sybil and her little airs of superior social position 
 that she should have supposed that having lived 
 all their lives in the same town they would have 
 been acquainted ; that having known, as she must, 
 of the existence of this helpless little creature, she 
 would have tried to lighten her burden. But she 
 did not say it. She only said courteously : 
 
 " This is Miss Smythe, little Bess." 
 
 " Oh, yes," replied little Bess, smiling at Sybil, 
 though not exactly with the same beaming cordial- 
 ity as at Esther and Suzette. " Oh, yes, I 've 
 heard of you. My mother washes up at your 
 house. An' she says you have such beautiful 
 things ! An' you play on the piano so nice ! She 
 says it 's like the birds singin'. It must be beau- 
 tiful to make music like the birds do. Teddy can 
 whistle ' Sweet Violets ' an' ' John Brown's Body,' 
 but my mother says it ain't so nice as your music." 
 And Sybil for the moment was ashamed of herself 
 and her snobbery. 
 
 Meanwhile the guests continued to arrive, and, 
 after greeting aunt Pen, they made their way to 
 where Suzette was standing beside little Bess's
 
 170 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 hammock, and one after the other was introduced 
 to her, the boys courteously bending over her little 
 hand, and the girls smiling cordially upon her. 
 A large proportion of them were strangers, and 
 many asked the same question Esther had done : 
 " Is she your sister ? " 
 
 " Oh, no ! she ain't my sister," said little Bess, 
 catching the question. " But she 's good to me 
 an' I love her dearly. She comes to see me ev'ry 
 day. She invited me to come. She said I 'd like 
 it ; an' it 's beautiful." 
 
 They grouped themselves about her. She did 
 not talk much, but lay and looked smilingly from 
 one to another, listening to their bright talk ; and 
 it was like a little court, herself the center and 
 queen. For, as they talked, they would turn to 
 her with a word or a smile, the boys with their 
 frank faces full of sympathy for her helplessness, 
 and eager to do or say something to give her 
 pleasure ; the girls smiling and patting her now 
 and then, and speaking cordially with a touch of 
 tender sympathy in their tones. 
 
 It was good for them as it was for her. Many 
 a young heart learned a right noble lesson that 
 summer's afternoon. 
 
 " She is such a loyal little soul ! " said Esther to
 
 THE LAWN-TENNIS PARTY. 171 
 
 Suzette, as they moved away. " And so perfectly 
 well-bred ! " 
 
 Sybil heard the remark and wondered. How 
 was it possible for the child of a washerwoman to 
 be well-bred ? She had been taught that money 
 and birth of a certain kind alone constituted a 
 claim to good breeding. She could understand 
 that a descendant of Governor Carver (!) might 
 lay claim to that distinction. But the daughter of 
 a washerwoman ! Such an idea was contrary to 
 all her teachings, and, on the whole, the afternoon 
 to her was not an agreeable one. 
 
 The game began, and little Bess's interest deep- 
 ened. The rapid movement, the flight of the 
 balls, the pretty lawn-tennis suits, the picturesque 
 groupings, all against the background of green 
 lawn and blue sea, made up a most animated 
 scene, which she fully appreciated. 
 
 They understood her ignorance of the game, 
 and were continually coming up as they had a 
 chance, both boys and girls, to explain it to her. 
 Soon she had a fair knowledge of it and could 
 laugh and applaud with her small hands when 
 a good stroke was *nade. 
 
 And there, over the sea, six miles away, were 
 the two white lighthouses, and, nearer at hand, the
 
 172 
 
 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 white line of the beach, with its red pavilion, and 
 Clark's Island, and, across the bay, Captain's Hill, 
 with its monument, all which Dick and Suzette 
 pointed out to her. 
 
 She was eager to know where it was the May- 
 flower came in, for she had learned much concern- 
 ing it and its passengers since the coming of these 
 two, and had quite an intelligent notion of the Pil- 
 
 grims more, I am sorry to say, than many of 
 the players on the lawn-tennis ground. 
 
 " That 's where they stayed the first Sunday," 
 she explained to a sturdy young fellow from De- 
 troit, pointing with her small hand to Clark's 
 Island. " It was cold an' snowy an' they had n't 
 any house to stay in, only a little boat, though I 
 'spect they made a fire out-o'-doors. An' they 
 wanted to find a place to settle quick. But they 
 wouldn't sail 'cause 'twas Sunday. An' they 
 preached an' sung. They mlways kep' Sunday 
 very, very strict, you know." Which the sturdy 
 young fellow did not know at all, but inwardly
 
 THE LAWN-TENNIS PARTY. 173 
 
 vowed he would, and a good deal more, as soon as 
 he could get hold of a book about the Pilgrims. 
 
 " She made me feel quite ashamed of myself not 
 to know, and she such a helpless little thing," he 
 said to Suzette, as they stood side by side in the 
 game. " I 've been here a month, but I 've been 
 fishing and playing ball and lawn tennis and 
 have n't learned a thing about the Pilgrims. I 
 thought the rock and Pilgrim Hall and all that an 
 awful bore. But I wish now I knew something 
 about them." 
 
 " It makes Plymouth so much more interesting," 
 said Suzette eagerly, " so different from other 
 towns. But my father has told us so much, and 
 we 've read so much about it, that when we were 
 coming it was like coming to King Arthur's land 
 or the home of the Greek heroes. And Dick and 
 I have been everywhere and seen everything about 
 the Pilgrims." 
 
 " I shall be here about ten days longer, and if 
 you would be so good as to tell me something and 
 say, can't you and Dick take me round ? I 've 
 got a horse, you know. And it would be awfully 
 good of you." , 
 
 At five came the tea. Mehitable and Jason 
 brought out the tables and tea and cups, and aunt
 
 174 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 Pen and Suzette poured it, and there was thin 
 bread and butter and the Waterman pound cakes. 
 Then followed more talk, during which the sturdy 
 young lad from Detroit, Russell Maybie, by name, 
 made an arrangement, subject to aunt Pen's 
 approval, for extensive researches into Pilgrim 
 land. 
 
 Presently they all said their good-bys. 
 
 "May I come and see you, little Bess?" asked 
 Esther, as she took her hand at parting. 
 
 " It will be so nice of you," was the reply. 
 "An' oh, how lovely it has all been !" she said to 
 Suzette. " I shall have sights an' sights to tell 
 my fam'ly."
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 LITTLE BESS TELLS THE STORY. 
 
 The world is so full of a number of things, 
 I'm sure we should all be as happy as kings. 
 
 Robert Louis Stevenson. 
 
 T ITTLE BESS was up betimes the next 
 * ' morning, and before her mother went out 
 to her day's work, she placed the dolls in a row 
 on the table before her, arranging them according 
 to their size, beginning with the emaciated Ara- 
 bella, and ending with the huge bulk of Marietta 
 Tintoretta. 
 
 Little Bess looked at them, her eyes bright with 
 anticipation of the pleasure she was about to con- 
 fer in telling them all about the lawn-tennis party. 
 
 She then raised an admonitory finger and began : 
 " Now, look straight at me, like good childrens, 
 an' don't 'terrupt. 'T is very rude to 'terrupt. If 
 you want to speak, you must raise your hands. 
 That 's what Teddy says the childrens do t' school. 
 An' Squawleena, Doctor Tom says if you are 
 naughty Queen Victory can put you into p'ison. 
 
 175
 
 176 LITTLE BESS TELLS THE STORY. 
 
 Queens can put folks into p'ison, he says, the 
 great big p'ison Teddy has told me about. It 
 has bars all over the windows 'stead of honey- 
 suckles, and they shut bad folks up in it. An' so 
 you must be good, for I should hate to have one of 
 my fam'ly be took to p'ison." 
 
 Here a saucy gust of wind, entering through the 
 honeysuckle-shaded window, struck Squawleena, 
 who, being hollow and rather weak as to base, 
 toppled over and fell flat on her face. Little 
 Bess took this prostration as a voluntary act of 
 humiliation on Squawleena's part and as involving 
 a promise to do better. 
 
 " Yes, I know you '11 try, Squawleena. An' I 
 wish I could pick you up, but I can't, you know. 
 But we '11 play you 're up. 
 
 " Oh, it was beautiful ridin' in the carriage, chil- 
 drens. Doctor Tom carried me just as nice, an' 
 he lifted me up and said, ' Look out of the window, 
 little Bess, an' see Plymouth Rock where the Pil- 
 grims landed.' An' I looked out of the window, 
 and Doctor Tom said, 'Stop the carriage.' An' I 
 looked an' see a little stone house all open, an' 
 it had n't any windows, only gates all open-work 
 like Mis' Brewer's lace. An' in it was a big gray 
 stone, an' Doctor Tom said that was the rock, an'
 
 LITTLE BESS TELLS THE STORY. 
 
 177 
 
 he said the little stone house was a mon-u-ment. 
 It is a hard word, but Doctor Tom said it over 
 till I learned it. An' you must say it over too." 
 
 Little Bess paused until each doll in her turn 
 was supposed to have said mon-u-ment. 
 
 " Oh, I 'm glad I Ve seen it ! " she went on. 
 "Teddy will be so pleased. He's told me lots 
 about the mon-u-ment, and how folks come to see 
 it. An' Doctor Tom said all the little childrens 
 that come in the Mayflower 
 stepped on the rock first 
 'cause it was in the water 
 close to the land. An' so 
 the boat come right up to 
 it, an' they stepped out on 
 the rock, an' then on the 
 sand. An' I asked if he 
 see 'em, an' he said they 
 come a great many years ago, before you and me 
 was born. An' now I s'pose they 're all gone to 
 heaven. An' he said one of the little childrens 
 was his great, great oh, ever so big grandfather ! 
 
 "An' then we come to Doctor Tom's own, owny 
 house, an' I looked up an' there were great green 
 trees, tall as Jack's bean-stalk, only just as thick, 
 an' not stringy like bean-stalks that run over the 
 windows."
 
 178 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 (Her mother had planted scarlet beans over one 
 window, and these were what little Bess referred 
 to.) 
 
 "An* the door was open, an' Miss Pen stood 
 there smilin', just like Discretion did at the door 
 of the House Beautiful Mis' Brewer read about 
 to me in the book. An' $uzette was there, too, 
 an' Mehitable ; an' Mehitable says, ' Let me take 
 her, Doctor Tom ; ' but Doctor Tom says, ' No, 
 she 's my own little girl, and nobody sha'n't carry 
 her but me.' An' he carried me up a stairs, such 
 a high stairs, an' put me on a lounge in his own 
 room, an' then I see the sea. 
 
 " You never did see the sea, not one of you, 
 'cept Theodora Stamford, an' she see it when 
 Teddy brought her in the big steamer from Bos- 
 ton. An', oh, my dear childrens, I wish you could 
 all see the sea ! It is blue like the sky is now, an' 
 the ships sail on it, an' sail on it, an' sail on it, 
 away an' away, right into the sky. An' I was 
 goin' to ask Doctor Tom if that was the way folks 
 went to heaven, but I just fell asleep a-watchin' 
 'em sail away and away, an' when I woked up I 
 forgot it. But I '11 ask him some time an' tell you. 
 
 " An' when I woked up Doctor Tom fed me 
 himself with a cunning, teenty-taunty spoon, all
 
 LITTLE BESS TELLS THE STORY. 179 
 
 bright silver, an' the ice-cream was sweet an' pink. 
 'Twas strawberry, you know, just like the ribbons 
 in the gown Miss Pen give me. You all see that 
 gown when I was ready to go to the lawn-tennis 
 party. An' you Ve all seen strawberry ice-cream, 
 'cause Mehitable sends it to us sometimes. 
 
 "An' Doctor Tom talked just as funny ! An' 
 he made me laugh an' laugh. Oh, I do love Doc- 
 tor Tom, childrens ! I think Christ was like 
 Doctor Tom. He 's so good to me ! An' he 's 
 good to ev'rybody, Teddy says, an' makes folks 
 well, an' stops the aches, an' speaks so soft an' 
 pleasant. Oh, I do love to have Doctor Tom talk 
 to me ! His voice is so good an' sweet ; it 's like 
 the stars shining." 
 
 (It is difficult to tell just what little Bess meant 
 by Doctor Tom's voice being like the stars shin- 
 ing. Perhaps- she had a dim sense of the truth 
 that all harmony, the harmony of movement, of 
 expression, of sound, is related. Such things are 
 kept from the wise and prudent and revealed unto 
 babes.) 
 
 " An' then Doctor Tom had to go away. Some- 
 body was took sick, an' so he had to go an' make 
 'em well, an' speak kind to 'em. An' by-m-by 
 Jason carried me down. An' the rooms were so
 
 ISO LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH, 
 
 big an' high, an' ev'rything was so sweet an' 
 pretty, the curtains a-wavin' in the wind, an' such 
 pretty chairs, an' lots an' lots of books, an' beau- 
 tiful pictures on the walls an' on the tables an' 
 ev'ry where. 
 
 " An' Miss Pen said : ' P'r'aps you 'd like to 
 look at the pictures, little Bess ; ' an' I said, ' Yes, 
 if you please.' An' there was one I wish you 
 could see, childrens. 'T was a woman an' her 
 little baby boy. Such a fat little baby, with big, 
 big eyes an' round arms, an' dimples in his elbows, 
 an' hair that the wind blowed an' little fat toes you 
 could say little pigs went to market on. An' she 
 held him, an' she was lovely, an' she did n't look at 
 him. She looked up as if she saw somethin' sad 
 a-comin', a pain mebbe, that was goin' to hurt her 
 little boy, such as the sick folks have. An' all 
 round her head the angels were a-flyin' with little 
 wings, a-tryin' to keep the pain off, I s'pose. An' 
 I looked at it a long, long time, an' I 'most cried, 
 an' I 'spect I could n't never looked at it enough. 
 
 " But then Miss Pen said, Would I like to see 
 Doctor Tom when he was a little boy ? An' I said, 
 ' Oh, yes !' An' she showed me a picture painted 
 bright, an' it was Doctor Tom when he was a little 
 mite of a boy. His hair curled all over his head
 
 LITTLE BESS TELLS THE STORY. l8l 
 
 in little crinkles an' his eyes laughed. He was a 
 sweet little boy. 
 
 " An' then she showed me another picture, an' 
 she said 't was the ' Home of the Bees.' An' 
 't was all pink an' blue an' gold an' white flowers 
 an' little beehives in among 'em, an' bees a-buzzin'. 
 An' I said, ' Is it a real place or a make-b'lieve 
 place ? ' An' Miss Pen said 't was a real place an' 
 she 'd seen it, an' there was lots an' lots of places 
 just as beautiful in the world. 
 
 " 'T is a very, very beautiful world you an' me 
 live in, childrens, an' we ought to be ever an' ever 
 so good 'cause we are let to live in this beautiful 
 world." 
 
 Little Bess paused here, for a neighbor stopped 
 at the window to ask how she was this fine morn- 
 ing, and did she have a good time up to Doctor 
 Tom's grand house yesterday. For all her friends 
 of Clam-shell Alley and that vicinity knew of her 
 invitation and had expressed the greatest interest 
 in her going. Not one of them had had the 
 least feeling of envy, which was rather extraordi- 
 nary, for people often do have such a feeling when 
 they see one of their number invited to partake 
 of a pleasure from which they are excluded. But, 
 as I have before said, envy, like all other evil 
 spirits, seemed to flee from little Bess's presence.
 
 1 82 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 This man was with a coal-cart, and he left it to 
 come and look in at the window. His face was 
 black with coal-dust and so were his hands and 
 clothes. In fact, the only white about him was his 
 teeth when he smiled, and the whites of his eyes. 
 He handed Bess something done up in a soft tissue 
 paper. The paper had black finger-marks upon it, 
 of course, but when Bess opened it there was a 
 big, pink-cheeked, luscious peach. 
 
 " I guess that '11 taste good t' ye," he said, 
 showing a good deal of white both about the 
 eyes and mouth. 
 
 Little Bess was just thanking him when a voice, 
 a boyish voice, shouted : 
 
 " Start your old apple-cart and don't take up the 
 whole of the street." 
 
 And then Suzette's low, clear voice was heard 
 remonstrating : 
 
 "Don't, please; he's speaking to little Bess." 
 
 The man, smiling good-naturedly, moved his 
 cart one side, and three riders came up and 
 drew rein by the window. They were Dick, Su- 
 zette, and Russell Maybie. Suzette bowed to the 
 coal-man, who touched his hat. Russell Maybie 
 opened his eyes at this, and they grew still wider 
 as he caught sight of little Bess.
 
 LITTLE BESS TELLS 'THE STORY. 183 
 
 " Is this where she lives ? " he asked, surveying 
 the small gray house with an air of surprise. But 
 his real good breeding came to his rescue. He 
 doffed his cap and looked in. " Oh, what a jolly 
 place ! And is this your family ? " he asked, look- 
 ing at the dolls. " I beg pardon for shouting out 
 to your caller." 
 
 Then, with a smile and a word each from 
 Dick and Suzette, they passed on, and little Bess 
 resumed her story. Suzette had given her an ex- 
 quisite Jacqueminot rose, which lay by the peach. 
 
 "An' when it was time to go out, Jason carried 
 me an' put me in the hammock, and folded the 
 pretty shawls about me. But he did n't cover up 
 my white gown. An' there was the sea again 
 an' the ships a-sailin' ; an' oh, I see the steamer 
 the real steamer you come in, Theodora Stam- 
 ford. Oh, how it did sail ! Puff ! puff ! An' the 
 smoke a-streamin' out behind, an' it sailed right 
 along an' never hit the land. I said 't was funny 
 it did n't hit the land, an' Miss Pen said there was 
 a man that knew just how to sail it so it should n't 
 hit. An' I said, ' Was the Mayflower like that ? ' 
 An' she said, 'No, the Mayflower had white sails 
 an' did n't go puff ! puff ! ' An' there was two little 
 white houses, away off, where the lights shine all
 
 184 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 night to tell the poor sailors which way to sail ; an' 
 the pretty island with trees ; an' Miss Pen said 
 that island was where the Pilgrim folks stayed the 
 first Sunday. Suzette telled me about that Sun- 
 day. An' away over the other side of the sea was 
 a high hill, an' Captain Myles Standish lived there. 
 He used to take care of the Pilgrim folks and 
 childrens, so nothin' shouldn't hurt 'em the 
 Indians nor nothin'. An' he had a little girl an' 
 she lived there with him. It was a many, many 
 years ago, before you an' me was born, childrens. 
 
 " An, then, by-m-by, the comp'ny come. Such 
 a lot o' nice boys an' girls ! An' they come Up an' 
 talked to me an' said, ' We 's glad to see you here, 
 little Bess.' An' they were just as nice, an' had 
 such nice hands an' pretty clo'es. An' one of 'em 
 is comin' to see me, she said. An' you will all see 
 her, childrens, an' you must behave nice an' speak 
 soft an' low an' be a credit to me. 
 
 " An' then they played the lawn tennis. 'T is 
 such a lovely play ! 'T is a runnin' play. An' 
 they hit the balls an' then skip an' run. 'T is so 
 nice to skip an' run ! An' then some one hits a 
 ball beautiful an' ev'rybody shouts an' claps their 
 hands, an' I clapped my hands too. 
 
 " I was n't tired one mite. Miss Pen come an'
 
 LITTLE BESS TELLS THE STORY. 185 
 
 asked me was n't I tired ? An' I said, ' No, not a 
 mite.' 'Twas like watchin' the fairies, an' nobody 
 could n't never get tired a-watchin' the fairies. 
 An' ev'rybody was just as good to me ! 
 
 " An', by-m-by, they stopped an' eat, an' Suzette 
 poured tea. An' there was nobody quite so sweet 
 an' good as she, childrens. An' then Dick brought 
 me some tea an' some bread an' butter. An' he 
 stood an' talked an' fixed my shawls an' said, 
 ' How pretty you looks, little Bess ! How bright 
 your eyes are ! ' An' I said, ' I should think a 
 little girl's eyes that had such good times ought to 
 be bright.' 
 
 " An' Doctor Tom come home an' they all went 
 away. An' they come an' said, ' Good-by, an' I 
 hope you'll come to lawn tennis again, little Bess.' 
 An' then Doctor Tom carried me in, an' Miss Pen 
 played on the piano just as my mother says they 
 do where she works. An' oh, 't was beautiful ! 
 
 " An' that was one of the boys that you see just 
 now. An' he 's nice, an' he did n't mean to speak 
 loud to Jerry. For Jerry is such a nice man. 
 
 "An" then Doctor Tom bringed me home 
 himself." 
 
 So ended little Bess's account of the lawn- 
 tennis party. She will doubtless tell it many
 
 1 86 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 times more, however. Squawleena will ask for it, 
 and little Violet, and poor dear Betsy Prig. Each 
 in their turn will say, " Do tell us again, little 
 mother, about Doctor Tom's lawn-tennis party." 
 And little Bess will be only too happy to comply. 
 She will never be tired of telling over this delight- 
 ful experience. 
 
 In fact, she had hardly finished before Teddy 
 arrived for a short stay, come " to hear all about 
 it," as he said. She gave him the peach, which he 
 refused, though she insisted upon his taking it, she 
 having had such " lots and lots " of good things 
 the day before. They finally compromised by 
 splitting it in two and each taking half. 
 
 With lawn tennis Teddy was tolerably familiar, 
 as familiar as an outsider can be. He had never 
 played it, but he had watched the game by the 
 hour over tennis-court fences or peeping furtively 
 through hedges. 
 
 He would like to have learned, but he fully real- 
 ized that this courtly game was not for " the likes 
 of him," as he sometimes said to himself. To play 
 lawn tennis one must have good clothes, neither 
 ragged nor patched nor dirty. 
 
 To be sure the boys of Clam-shell Alley and 
 vicinity sometimes got up a game with old fish-
 
 LITTLE BESS TELLS THE STORY. 187 
 
 nets and broken oars and abandoned croquet balls 
 picked from dust heaps, which they called lawn 
 tennis. But such Teddy laughed to scorn. Lawn 
 tennis, indeed ! 
 
 He knew all about baseball, however. Any- 
 body, however ragged or patched, was welcome on 
 most of the many baseball grounds about the 
 town, if he only played well. And Teddy was a 
 capital ball-player. Mis' White did not approve 
 of his playing, of course. 
 
 It wore out his clothes, she said, his shoes espe- 
 cially. He had two pairs a year, and if he were 
 careful as he ought to be, he need have but one. 
 But he was a "dre'tful expensive and ungrateful 
 boy, that 's what he was." So said Mis' White. 
 
 Poor Teddy ! it was hard upon him. For he 
 was trying, really trying, that summer to be care- 
 ful of his clothes. It quite humiliated him at 
 times, when he saw Dick and Suzette, that he was 
 so shabby. Only they did not seem to notice it. 
 
 He entered with even more than his usual zest 
 into little Bess's story of her happy day. It 
 pleased him to see her so animated, for some- 
 times, of late, he had fancied she did not seem so 
 bright as usual, and he had anxiously asked of her 
 mother if she were as well.
 
 1 88 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 He picked up Squawleena, and restored her to 
 her place in the line, and then hurried off to dig 
 some clams, for it was low tide. 
 
 Her mother came in at noon to give little Bess 
 her dinner, and towards night, when she had begun 
 to look for the return of the three riders, who, 
 they had told her, were to join a picnic party at 
 South Pond, and to listen for the familiar step of 
 Castor and Pollux, Esther Morton came in. 
 
 Little Bess was feeling lonely in spite of all her 
 brave cheerfulness, and her cheeks flushed with 
 pleasure at the sight of Esther. 
 
 " I found," said Esther, " that we are to go 
 away to-morrow. Mamma has had a telegram 
 from papa to meet him in New York. But I 
 could not go without seeing you once more and 
 bringing you a little keepsake to remember me by. 
 For I don't want you to forget me, my dear little 
 Bess." 
 
 As she spoke, Esther put down upon the table 
 what, at first sight, looked to little Bess like a 
 pretty box. It was of rosewood, inlaid with sil- 
 ver, and was indeed a box, but such a box as 
 she not only had never seen, but had never even 
 heard of. 
 
 And presently she thought a dozen birds were
 
 LITTLE BESS TELLS THE STORY. 189 
 
 singing in it, like the four and twenty blackbirds 
 in the king's pie ; for it was a music-box. Esther 
 had touched the spring, and now stood looking at 
 little Bess with pleased eyes. 
 
 As to dear little Bess herself, her delight was 
 literally unspeakable. For some moments she 
 said nothing, but lay in a kind of surprised 
 ecstasy. 
 
 "Well," spoke Esther at last, "do you like it, 
 little Bess ? " 
 
 Like it ! Little Bess turned her sparkling eyes 
 upon Esther. 
 
 " O Miss Morton ! what is it ? Is it birds shut 
 up in it ? " 
 
 " It 's a music-box, little Bess. It plays twelve 
 tunes, and it has to be wound up like a clock. I 
 shall show you how to do it," replied Esther, 
 charmed with the success of her attempt to give 
 the little creature pleasure. 
 
 She had at first been at a loss what keepsake to 
 give her. She had thought of an illustrated book, 
 of pictures, of something to wear ; but all these 
 seemed commonplace. She wanted to give her 
 something fresh, something unique like the little 
 thing herself, she had told her mother. And her 
 mother had suggested the music-box which had
 
 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 
 
 been bought for Esther when they were last in 
 Switzerland. 
 
 Esther, remembering what little Bess had said 
 about Sybil Smythe's piano-playing, had at once ex- 
 claimed, " O mamma dearest, that's just the thing ! 
 You always do think of exactly the right thing. 
 That is just splendid! There, you must let me 
 say that just this once, for it is splendid. It 's a 
 shining thought of yours." For Mrs. Morton was, 
 in general, merciless towards the prevalent girlish 
 extravagance of speech. 
 
 " But, little Bess," Esther went on, " don't call 
 me Miss Morton. Call me Esther. I want you 
 always to think of me as Esther, as a girl like 
 yourself, only bigger, you know. And these are 
 your dolls ! Do tell me about them, after we have 
 had a little more music." 
 
 The music-box played on, until it had gone 
 through its twelve tunes, and then Esther stopped 
 it. "There," she said, "it will keep on playing 
 like that for more than an hour, and will sing you 
 to sleep every night, if you like." 
 
 While little Bess talked on about her dolls, 
 Esther looked around the little room. It had 
 many comforts and many pretty ornaments in it, 
 given to little Bess by her friends, Mis' Brewer,
 
 LITTLE BESS TELLS THE STORY. \gi 
 
 Doctor Tom, and Miss Penelope. In one corner 
 stood an old-fashioned, turned-up bedstead, hidden 
 behind curtains. But how narrow, how small it 
 seemed to the young girl who had lived all her life 
 in an American " palace," such as one of our 
 money princes can build or buy ! Here, it was 
 evident, in these narrow limits, the life of this 
 little one had been spent. 
 
 " That was, a lovely lawn-tennis party yester- 
 day, little Bess," she said. 
 
 " Oh, it was beautiful ! " replied the child. " It 
 was #// beautiful," she repeated, with an emphasis 
 on the "all." "I never see the sea before, nor 
 the lawn tennis. An' the boys an' girls were so 
 nice, an' spoke so good an' sweet. An' I never 
 see Doctor Tom's house before. Such a pretty 
 house ! I 'm glad Doctor Tom lives in such a 
 pretty house. I do love Doctor Tom. Oh, I do 
 love ev'rybody ; ev'rybody is so good to me." 
 
 " I suppose you go out often ? " asked Esther. 
 
 "Oh, no!" was little Bess's surprised reply. "I 
 never went before. I can't, you know. I stay at 
 home all the time, me an' my dolls. We have 
 such good times ! " and she smiled upon the row. 
 She evidently felt that their conduct during this 
 visit of Esther's was unexceptionable. They were 
 indeed "a credit to her."
 
 1 92 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 They had much talk of a similar nature, and 
 little Bess's evident content with the narrow con- 
 ditions of her life, nay, more, her innocently joyous 
 acquiescence in them, struck very deeply into 
 Esther's girlish soul. 
 
 That night her mother was greatly surprised 
 and stirred when Esther came up to her, and, 
 putting her arms around her, laid her head on her 
 shoulder and burst into tears. 
 
 " My daughter, what is it ? " she asked anx- 
 iously. 
 
 " O mamma," was Esther's reply, " why has 
 God given me everything, and dear little Bess 
 nothing ?" 
 
 "Perhaps, dearest," said her mother after a 
 moment's hesitation, " perhaps so that you may 
 know the blessedness of that saying of our Lord, 
 ' I was an hungered, and ye gave me meat : I was 
 thirsty, and ye gave me drink : I was a stranger, 
 and ye took me in : naked, and ye clothed me : I 
 was sick, and ye visited me : I was in prison, and 
 ye came unto me.' 
 
 "But," she added, "are you sure he has given 
 dear little Bess nothing ? "
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 THE FIRST NEW ENGLAND THANKSGIVING. 
 
 "They little thought how pure a light 
 
 With years should gather round that day; 
 How love should keep their memories bright, 
 How wide a realm their sons should sway." 
 
 T3 USSELL MAYBIE stuck to his resolution 
 ^^ made at the lawn-tennis party to learn 
 something concerning Pilgrim Plymouth. He was 
 a very active boy and he had learned the modern 
 side of it pretty thoroughly. He had been bass- 
 fishing at Long Pond, boating at Billington Sea, 
 and codfishing in the bay. He knew all the intri- 
 cate ways that cross and recross each other in the 
 great tract of woods lying between Plymouth and 
 Sandwich. He had formed the acquaintance of 
 its wood-choppers and its deer. 
 
 He had explored the section of country lying 
 back of the town which, seen from Burial Hill, is 
 so picturesque with its rounded hills, suggestive of 
 hidden streamlets and woody dells. Oh, no ! he 
 had not wasted his time by any means. But he 
 
 193 /
 
 194 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 had seen it all without a thought of those associa- 
 tions which hallow it, and clothe all this Pilgrim 
 country with a light " that never was on sea or 
 land." But now he would redeem the time, and 
 Dick and Suzette were only too glad to help him. 
 
 Suzette was a capital guide. She possessed the 
 one requisite generally lacking in the official guide, 
 a thorough sympathy with her subject. To com- 
 pare small things with great, seeing Pilgrim 
 Plymouth under her guidance was like visiting 
 Westminster Abbey with Dean Stanley or going 
 over Winchester Cathedral with a certain white- 
 haired old verger who dearly loves its every stone. 
 
 She went from place to place with enthusiasm. 
 She again looked over the familiar Mourt's Rela- 
 tion and was authority on everything relating to 
 the daily life and doings of the Pilgrims. I can 
 not say that she felt or expressed an equal interest 
 in their business relations with Mr. Thomas Wes- 
 ton, or in the complications arising from the 
 behavior of Mr. Lyford. That was hardly to be 
 expected. She liked best to dwell upon the details 
 of those first years, and many a talk concerning 
 them did the three have seated upon the zinc- 
 covered seats on Burial Hill. 
 
 Many misrepresentations had been made in
 
 FIRST NEW ENGLAND THANKSGIVING. 195 
 
 England as early as 1623 concerning the condi- 
 tion of things at Plymouth. And in 1624 Gov- 
 ernor Bradford notes these misrepresentations, or 
 "objections," as he calls them in his History, and 
 replies to them. They are all of value, but two of 
 them especially interested and amused Suzette. 
 One of these was the fourth in order : that 
 "children were not catechised nor taught to read." 
 To which Governor Bradford replies : " Neither 
 is true ; for many take pains with their own [chil- 
 dren] as they can ; indeed, we have no common 
 school for want of a fit person or, hitherto, means 
 to maintain one, though we desire now to begin." 
 This they did. The children of the Pilgrims and 
 their descendants have always been taught ; and 
 no matter to what section of our country they 
 have emigrated, they have always taken with 
 them the little wooden school-house of New 
 England. 
 
 The other objection was that " The people are 
 much annoyed with muskeetoes." To which the 
 answer was made : " They are too delicate and 
 unfit to begin new plantations and colonies that 
 can not endure the biting of a muskeeto. We 
 would wish such to keepe at home till, at least, 
 they be muskeeto proof. Yet this place is as
 
 196 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 free as any, and experience teacheth that the 
 more the land is tilled and the woods cut down, 
 the fewer there will be, and in the end scarce any 
 at all ; " which, truly, has come to pass, for Ply- 
 mouth town is free from the mosquito pest. 
 
 Others besides Sybil Smythe have brought the 
 accusation of grimness and a general sourness of 
 disposition against our Pilgrim Fathers, and if we 
 were to believe what they tell us concerning them 
 we should not look for any mention of natural 
 beauties in their journals and letters. It would 
 have mattered little to them, we should say, 
 whether the sky were blue or green, or whether 
 flowers bloomed or did not bloom in their New 
 England. 
 
 But in the very first pages of their journals, as 
 spring comes on, we read of the birds singing 
 in the woods "most pleasantly." In a letter 
 written by Edward Winslow, in the autumn of 
 1621, he makes mention not only of the deer and 
 codfish, the lobsters and "good sallets," of grapes 
 and strawberries, of wild plums and cherries, but 
 also of roses, "white, red, and damask," single, 
 "but very sweet indeed." Doubtless the children, 
 little Humilitie Cooper being among them, to- 
 gether with the naughty little runaway, John
 
 FIRST NEW ENGLAND THANKSGIVING. 197 
 
 Billington, gathered these roses, " white, red, and 
 damask," and our Pilgrim mothers distilled rose- 
 water from them as they had been wont to do in 
 their beloved mother-land, old England. 
 
 In this same letter Edward Winslow gives a 
 brief too brief account of the first New 
 England Thanksgiving day, in the autumn of 
 1621. 
 
 We should like to know every detail of this day, 
 the beginning of a long line of Thanksgiving days, 
 just what they had for dinner and how it was 
 cooked. Each family had the same thing, doubt- 
 less, for though they were made up into seven 
 families, they as yet held all provisions in common. 
 
 We should like to know whether Francis Billing- 
 ton and Wrasling Brewster and the rest of the 
 boys overate, and who among the girls got the 
 wish-bones whether Humilitie Cooper or Re- 
 member Allerton or Damaris Hopkins ; whether 
 they had any plums in their pudding or whether 
 they had any pudding at all. We are sure of one 
 thing, however, that they marched in procession to 
 the Common House and there gave thanks and 
 listened to a long discourse from Elder Brewster, 
 during which the children had immense difficulty 
 in keeping still, as their thoughts strayed off to 
 the good things in store.
 
 198 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 In the spring, says Winslow, they had planted 
 twenty acres of corn and six acres of barley and 
 pease. The corn had yielded abundantly, the 
 yield of barley had been fair, while the pease had 
 turned out altogether bad, having been dried and 
 parched by the sun. 
 
 The harvest was, in the main, good, however, 
 and with codfish, lobsters, and clams in the sea, 
 and deer, ducks, partridges, and turkeys in the 
 wood and ponds, there was abundance of food. 
 So Governor Bradford, after the harvest had been 
 gotten in, sent four men out "fowling," in order 
 that they all might, "after a special manner," 
 rejoice together over the fruits of their labors ; 
 that is, by feasting in the good old English fashion. 
 And ever since has New England rejoiced "after 
 a special manner," as the yearly harvest has come 
 round ; and not New England only, for the 
 Thanksgiving of the Pilgrims has now become 
 our great national Thanksgiving, which is 
 grounded, like many other of our good things, 
 on Plymouth Rock. 
 
 Those four fowlers sent out by Governor Brad- 
 ford killed fowls enough to last the whole com- 
 pany a week, and that turkeys were roasted for 
 the tables of the first New England Thanksgiving 
 goes without saying.
 
 FIRST NEW ENGLAND THANKSGIVING. 199 
 
 How they were roasted was a matter of specu- 
 lation with Suzette. 
 
 " Tied to a string hanging from a hook in the 
 ceiling and roasted before the great wood-fire, as 
 my great-grandmother roasted her meat, and 
 as the gypsies do to-day," stoutly declared uncle 
 Tom. 
 
 "Or roasted on a jack and tended and basted 
 by the children," said aunt Pen, to which opinion 
 Suzette was most inclined. She could readily 
 fancy her pet Pilgrim, little Humilitie, a tire 
 enveloping her small figure from her quaint cap to 
 the very tips of her quainter shoes, gravely turning 
 the turkey and basting it. 
 
 "I've seen a jack," said uncle Tom, "that 
 winds up like a clock and goes itself, but I doubt 
 if the Pilgrims had anything so elaborate." 
 
 But what did they have besides the turkeys and 
 ducks and fish ? We do not hear of any vegeta- 
 bles. Later on they had plenty, for there is an 
 old ballad that says : 
 
 If fresh meat be wanted to fill up our dish, 
 We have carrots and turnips whenever we wish ; 
 And if we 've a mind for a delicate dish, 
 We go to the clam-bank and there we catch fish.
 
 2OO LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 For pottage and pudding and custard and pies 
 Our pumpkins and parsnips are common supplies. 
 We have pumpkins at morning and pumpkins at noon; 
 If it was not for pumpkins we should be undoon. 
 
 At that time, however, carrots and turnips were 
 unattainable luxuries, and no child ate pumpkin- 
 pie on that first Thanksgiving day. 
 
 Each person had a peck of corn weekly for his 
 supply ; and from this, together with the barley, 
 their bread was made. But as to plum-pudding, 
 that was hopeless. 
 
 " Perhaps they had a kind of substitute in an 
 ancient dish called ' apple-slump,' " suggested uncle 
 Tom, for this conversation concerning the. Thanks- 
 giving day took place, not on Burial Hill, but one 
 evening at twilight under the lindens at uncle 
 Tom's door. " As they had no apples, they could 
 have used plums, or even grapes after stoning 
 them. You see I am a very fair cook, pussy. 
 Apple-slump is made by filling a deep stone or 
 earthen pot nearly full of fruit and covering it 
 with a crust. They could make the crust out of 
 Indian meal and water. Then, when the crust is 
 brown and crisp, it is crushed down into the boil- 
 ing fruit. Mehitable knows how to make it. It 
 should be eaten with cream."
 
 FIRST NEW ENGLAND THANKSGIVING. 2OI 
 
 " Cream ! ! " cried out Suzette, with double ex- 
 clamation points. " Why, uncle Tom, they had n't 
 any cows ! " 
 
 " True, true ; poor things ! " rejoined uncle Tom. 
 " I retire from the discussion. The Pilgrim dinner 
 is beyond me." 
 
 " It 's awfully interesting," remarked Russell 
 Maybie, who discreetly said nothing upon the sub- 
 ject, but listened with all his might, thinking how 
 he would astonish his sister Molly with the extent 
 of his information concerning the Pilgrims. 
 
 " ' Our Indian corn,' says Winslow, ' maketh as 
 pleasant meal as rice.' And that remark of his 
 suggests grounds for a new speculation," said aunt 
 Pen. 
 
 " Perhaps they had 'furmenty.' " 
 
 "And what's 'furmenty' ?" asked Dick. 
 
 " It 's an old English dish fully as old, if not 
 older, than the Pilgrims," replied aunt Pen. " It 
 is mentioned in the account of the great doings 
 at Kenilworth Castle, when Queen Elizabeth vis- 
 ited my Lord Leicester mentioned by some one 
 who was on the spot, too. 
 
 "It is generally made with wheat, but why not 
 with barley or hominy ? for Edward Win slew's 
 meal was simply hominy. Our Pilgrim mothers,
 
 2O2 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 taught by ' Mistris Experience,' must have been 
 fruitful in expedients. They must have been 
 obliged to make many things 'do.' And furmenty 
 being such a familiar dish, they must have made 
 it with hominy. 
 
 "You soak the wheat or hominy a long time, 
 and then you put it in a ' pippin,' cover it with 
 water and ' creen ' it in the oven so said the 
 Yorkshire woman who told me once how it was 
 done. And then after the ' creening,' which must 
 last several hours, you cook it in a big brass pan 
 with milk and eggs and currants, and eat it with 
 horn spoons stuck in a bunch in the middle of 
 the brass pan, the Kenilworth man says, that 
 being the only implement fit to eat it with. It 's 
 a Mothering-Day dish, and Mothering Day is a 
 kind of Thanksgiving Day. And I think that 's 
 what the Pilgrim mothers had for Thanksgiving 
 pudding." 
 
 "But, aunt Pen," remonstrated Suzette, "they 
 did n' t have milk." 
 
 " Nor currants," added Doctor Tom, " nor eggs." 
 
 " Well, then, they made water do, and used 
 dried huckleberries," rejoined aunt Pen. " And 
 ducks' eggs wild ducks' eggs." 
 
 "Pen," said uncle Tom solemnly, "you would
 
 FIRST NEW ENGLAND THANKSGIVING. 203 
 
 have made an excellent Pilgrim mother yourself. 
 But these are vain speculations." 
 
 And so they are, but "awfully interesting," as 
 Russell Maybie said. 
 
 But, whatever they had, they ate it with thanks- 
 giving, in their thatched log-houses, with the 
 " mighty ocean which they had passed " behind 
 them and an unknown sea before them. They 
 did also what should always be done by the more 
 favored on Thanksgiving day they entertained 
 the stranger at their gates. 
 
 Massasoit came with ninety-one of his braves, 
 and the Pilgrims feasted them for three days. 
 They had an abundance, as we have seen, and 
 after the feast the Indians returned their hospi- 
 tality with a gift of five deer which they had shot. 
 
 They entertained their Indian guests with a 
 military drill, firing off their matchlocks and 
 doubtless their cannon upon the platform on 
 Burial Hill. The thunder and flash of these can- 
 non would duly impress these children of the 
 wild wood, who as yet possessed only the sim- 
 plest weapons. 
 
 They had a wholesome dread of powder and 
 shot, and when, in the autumn of 1621, Canonicus, 
 a Narragansett chief, sent a bundle of arrows
 
 2O4 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 bound with a rattlesnake skin as a defiance to 
 Governor Bradford, and he returned the skin 
 stuffed with powder and shot, Canonicus was so 
 afraid of it he would not have it in his wigwam, 
 and it was handed about from place to place, until 
 it finally found its way back to Plymouth. 
 
 In November, shortly after the first Thanks- 
 giving day, the Fortune arrived from England, 
 bringing thirty-five additional colonists. They 
 were most welcome, though somewhat illy supplied 
 with food and household utensils. In fact, they 
 had not so much as " bisket-cakes," or "a pot or 
 pan to dress meat in." 
 
 " The plantation was glad of this addition of 
 strength, but could have wished that many of 
 them had been of better condition, and all of them 
 better furnished with provisions," writes Governor 
 Bradford, adding philosophically, " but it could not 
 be helped." 
 
 When the Fortune sailed for England, which it 
 did in fourteen days after its arrival, it was laden 
 with " good clapboard," and two hogsheads of 
 beaver and otter skins, secured by barter from the 
 Indians. None of the colonists, it seems, had 
 ever seen a beaver-skin until they came to New 
 England, and it was Squanto who told them their
 
 FIRST NEW ENGLAND THANKSGIVING. 205 
 
 value. The whole cargo returned to England was 
 estimated to be worth five hundred pounds, and 
 five hundred pounds at that time was worth treble 
 what it is now. In this same vessel went Ed- 
 ward Winslow's letter of " Good Tidings," from 
 which I have quoted. 
 
 Shortly after the sailing of the Fortune, the Pil- 
 grims took account of their provisions, and found 
 that each would have to be put on half-allowance, 
 until fish came again in the spring. This was 
 "hard, but they bore it patiently under hope of 
 supply " arriving from England. 
 
 So the year 1621, which began so sadly for 
 them, ended as does often a dark and stormy day, 
 if not with a clear, calm sky, yet with cheerful 
 gleams of light.
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 THE SAD GLAD YEAR OF 1623. 
 
 Oh, strong hearts and true ! not one went back in the Mayflower ! 
 No, not one looked back, who had set his hand to the ploughing. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 God sifted a whole Nation that he might send choice Grain out 
 into this Wilderness. Stoughton, 1668. 
 
 WHAT plucky fellows they were ! " remarked 
 Russell. 
 
 " Yes, they had lots of grit, and it is n't played 
 out yet, uncle Tom says. It 's Pilgrim grit that 
 is carrying on our nation to-day, he says." It 
 was Dick who said this. 
 
 The friends were on Burial Hill, seated under 
 the tree hard by Governor Bradford's -monument, 
 near which is the tombstone of his son Major 
 William Bradford. 
 
 At least Suzette was sitting upon the zinc- 
 covered seat, while Dick and Russell lay stretched 
 upon the turf. 
 
 The sky was free from clouds though slightly 
 obscured by a silvery haze. Not a breeze stirred, 
 
 206
 
 THE SAD GLAD YEAR OF 1623. 2O/ 
 
 and the harbor, which was now at full tide, and the 
 bay beyond were like a sea of glass. 
 
 The atmospheric conditions were such as produce 
 those ghostly effects known as mirages. Partial 
 or limited mirages are not uncommon on this 
 coast. It is not unusual at times to see portions 
 of Cape Cod ; sometimes its whole length is visible. 
 But on this morning even the roofs and spires of 
 Provincetown were lifted above the horizon. 
 
 " See ! see ! " said Suzette. " There is where 
 they had the first New England washing-day, 
 Russell." 
 
 " And where they signed the Compact," added 
 Dick. " We 've never seen it like that before, 
 Suzette." 
 
 " Halloo ! Teddy," he called out as he caught 
 sight of the well-known bristling straw hat, half- 
 way down the declivity of the hill. " Come up 
 here and look at this." 
 
 Teddy had seen them, but the presence of a 
 third person had made him hesitate to join them. 
 But now he advanced, holding in his hand a small 
 bouquet of the late sabbatia, which he gave to 
 Suzette, lifting that same bristling hat as he 
 did so. 
 
 " Did you ever see anything like that before, 
 Teddy ? " asked Dick.
 
 2O8 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 Three ships were seen sailing apparently in mid- 
 air, and the whole Duxbury coast, which is low 
 and sandy, seemed lined with high white cliffs. 
 The illusion was perfect. The shores drew near 
 and the bay contracted. On the low flat line of 
 beach between the Gurnet and Saquish, a stretch 
 of bare sand, a town with spires and tall trees was 
 plainly visible. 
 
 'T was like a city of enchantment, an Arabian 
 Nights city, Suzette declared ; like the famous 
 palace of Aladdin that sprang into being in a 
 night, and it seemed to vanish almost as quickly, 
 for, while they were looking and exclaiming, it 
 dissolved and was gone. 
 
 " I never see that before," said Teddy. " I 've 
 seen ships sail in the air, but I never see buildings 
 an' trees over there. There ain't none only 
 sand." 
 
 Nearly all the forenoon the mirage returned at 
 intervals, and to watch it was like watching the 
 changing scenes of a pantomime. And, as they 
 talked and looked, Suzette went on with her 
 history lesson. She was telling about certain 
 things that happened in 1623. 
 
 This year had opened disastrously for the 
 Pilgrims. Their good Squanto had died late in
 
 THE SAD GLAD YEAR OF 1623. 2<X) 
 
 the previous year, while on an expedition with 
 Governor Bradford for the buying of corn from 
 the Indians. For corn was again scarce, and of 
 bread they had little or none. With all Squan- 
 to's instructions, they had not as yet become 
 sufficiently well acquainted with the management 
 of Indian corn to raise it with any great success. 
 
 This expedition had sailed up and down the 
 shores of Cape Cod, and had been greatly bothered 
 in the management of their boat by the shallows 
 and breakers. And what was still worse they 
 had succeeded in buying but little corn. The In- 
 dians themselves did not have large supplies of it. 
 They were never what we in New England call 
 " fore-handed " folk. They did not trouble them- 
 selves much about a supply for the future. They 
 were accustomed to scant rations, and trusted a 
 good deal to chance in securing what they needed. 
 
 Their implements of agriculture, if they can be 
 said to have had any, were of the rudest kind. 
 Their hoes were of stone, fastened to a wooden 
 handle. With such a primitive affair, the Indian 
 squaw slightly scratched the earth, dropped in her 
 corn and herring, covered them up, and her planting 
 was done. They raised more corn, we are told, 
 after they had the English " hows " (hoes).
 
 2IO LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 A second equally unsuccessful expedition was 
 sent into the interior, in search of corn, in March, 
 1623. 
 
 It was also in the latter part of 1622 and 
 beginning of 1623 that the great conspiracy was 
 formed among the Indians, of which Massasoit 
 told Hobomock, as related in a previous chapter. 
 They crushed the conspiracy, and, as we read in 
 that same chapter, finally got rid of the settlers at 
 Wessagussett, who were the main cause of it. 
 
 These colonists were Thomas Weston's men, 
 and shortly after Myles Standish had seen them 
 off, Weston himself arrived at Plymouth in a 
 wretched plight. He had left his vessel and gone 
 out exploring in a small boat, and was cast ashore 
 in a heavy storm, somewhere between the Mer- 
 rimack and Piscataqua rivers. The Indians had 
 robbed him of everything, but he had borrowed 
 a suit of clothes from some settlers in that neigh- 
 borhood, and then made his way to Plymouth to 
 ask aid from the Pilgrims. 
 
 His feelings towards them were not of the 
 friendliest, but he dissembled, and begged them 
 to help him. Would they lend him a certain 
 number of beaver-skins ? He was expecting a ship 
 soon with supplies, and he could then repay them.
 
 THE SAD GLAD YEAR OF 1623. 2 1 I 
 
 There were many and good reasons why they 
 should not make him the loan, and they trusted 
 little in his promise to supply their needs when his 
 ship arrived. 
 
 " We gave little credit to his supply," writes 
 Bradford, but " we helped him when all the world 
 failed him." 
 
 They loaned him the skins from their scanty 
 store, and he repaid them as the viper repaid the 
 man in the fable, who had warmed him in his 
 bosom. 
 
 The scarcity of corn in the spring of 1623 led 
 the leaders to consult how they best might secure 
 a greater crop. It was plain that, in order to have 
 a great crop, a great deal of ground must be 
 planted. Up to that time they had planted their 
 fields in common, sharing alike in the harvest. 
 This had been in accordance with the agreement 
 made with the company of Adventurers to Ply- 
 mouth, who had helped them to come over. 
 
 But they felt that if each family could have a 
 parcel of ground of its own to plant, of which they 
 only should have the produce, they would go to 
 work with greater zest than when their labor went 
 into the common fund. The result proved the 
 wisdom of the leaders. A parcel of ground was
 
 212 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 allotted to each family, and they went to work 
 with a will. Not only the men of the families 
 worked, but the women, for the first time, went 
 into the fields to assist. The children too helped, 
 even the smallest, who at least could drop the 
 corn. 
 
 ' ; And I wonder if they said : 
 
 One for the blackbird, 
 
 One for the crow, 
 Two for the cut-worm 
 
 And three to let grow," 
 said Suzette. 
 
 " Seven kernels in a hill was a tremendous 
 waste, if they did," remarked Russell. " For if 
 the cut-worm and crow and blackbird did n't take 
 'em, they would have to be pulled up. That 
 would be bad political economy." 
 
 The result of this added industry was that a 
 much larger quantity of corn was planted than in 
 either of the two previous years. 
 
 By the time their planting was done, however, 
 their supply of corn for bread was entirely gone, 
 and they could only rest, as they said, on God's 
 providence, not knowing at night what they would 
 have to eat on the morrow, or whether they 
 would have anything to eat at all. And so
 
 THE SAD GLAD YEAR OF 1623. 213 
 
 " above all people in the world they had need to 
 pray 'Give us this day our daily bread.' " 
 
 But they did not sit down and wait for food to 
 come to them. They were men of the same 
 stamp as Oliver Cromwell, whose famous order to 
 his soldiers is so familiar : " Trust in God and 
 keep your powder dry." They trusted in God to 
 supply them, but at the same time they used 
 every method to procure food. 
 
 They had but one boat, and that not a good 
 one, but they fitted her up as well as they could, 
 and then divided their men into companies of six 
 or seven, each of whom were to go out in their 
 turn to fish. No sooner did the boat with one 
 company come in and discharge her supply of fish, 
 than another took her and went directly out again. 
 They stayed till they had a full supply, if it was 
 for several days. Those left behind went out on 
 the flats at low tide and dug clams for food. 
 
 Occasionally a deer was brought in, but autumn 
 and winter were the seasons for deer and wild 
 fowl. 
 
 All this story sounds like that of the manna in 
 the wilderness and seems almost if not quite as 
 wonderful. Certainly their daily food came as 
 directly from the hand of that God in whom they
 
 214 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 trusted as did the manna which the Israelites 
 gathered each morning, or the quails that came up 
 and covered their camp. 
 
 In the latter part of June a vessel stopped in 
 their harbor, the master of which had two hogs- 
 heads of pease for sale. The Pilgrims desired to 
 buy them ; but seeing their necessities, he put up 
 the price to g ($45) for the two. After con- 
 siderable bartering he consented to take ,8, 
 but not one penny less, and the beaver-skins he 
 was to have in return he insisted upon having 
 under price. They refused to be cheated after 
 this audacious fashion, however, and told him they 
 " had lived so long without his pease and could do 
 so still," whereat he betook himself and his pease 
 to Virginia. 
 
 " Where," remarked Suzette, " I always hoped 
 he had to sell them at a loss." 
 
 " I should hope so, the mean fellow ! " said 
 Russell ; " trying to make a corner on pease when 
 they were almost starving." 
 
 " Then, " Suzette went on, " something nice hap- 
 pened. The ship Anne came in, and a few days 
 after a little vessel which they called a 'pinass.' 
 Its name was The Little James, and it was sent for 
 them to keep to go a-coasting in. It was new
 
 THE SAD GLAD YEAR OF 1623. 215 
 
 and fitted out with flags and streamers and pen- 
 nants, and must have looked very pretty coming 
 round Beach Point and up the channel. I should 
 n't wonder one bit if some of the Pilgrim boys 
 and girls came up and watched her coming in 
 from this very spot." 
 
 It was such remarks as these from Suzette that 
 made the story so "real," said Russell. "It's 
 such a capital way to study history. They do 
 contrive to* make it so awfully dry in school." 
 
 "That's so!" said Teddy, with such hearty 
 good-will, that Russell, who was lying on the turf 
 near him, gave him a rousing slap on the back. 
 
 " I see you know all about it," said he. " But 
 say, would n't it be a capital way to study history 
 to go round and learn it on the spot ? Whenever 
 I hear about the Pilgrims after this, I shall just see 
 it all, you know." 
 
 " Oh, yes," replied Suzette. " And papa says, in 
 a year or two perhaps, he will take us to the old 
 Pilgrim homes in England and Holland. Mamma 
 wants to go to her old home in France, and we 
 can go that way." 
 
 " Oh ! that would be no end jolly," was Russell's 
 comment. 
 
 Well, in the Anne came sixty additional colo-
 
 2l6 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 nists, and among them were the wives and children 
 of some of the Mayflower Pilgrims. The meet- 
 ing between these who had been so long separated 
 must have been a happy one, though they arrived 
 at a time when there was great destitution. The 
 best we could give them, writes Bradford, was a 
 lobster or a piece of fish, for there was no bread 
 nor anything else, but a cup of "fair spring 
 water." 
 
 These colonists were not all true Pilgrims. 
 Many of them had come to settle in the neighbor- 
 hood of Plymouth, on "their own particulers," as 
 they quaintly phrase it : that is, they were to be 
 in some ways independent of the Pilgrims. And 
 I think it must have been some of these who, we 
 are told, wished themselves back in England 
 when they saw the poverty of the people. It 
 could not have been the wives and children of 
 those Mayflower Pilgrims, though they may have 
 wept, as the chronicle says some did, when they 
 saw the destitution of their dear friends, their 
 toil-worn, weather-beaten faces, and their shabby 
 clothes. 
 
 There was one however, who, we may be sure, 
 did not wish to go back, and that was Mistress 
 Alice Southworth, the second wife of Governor 
 1
 
 THE SAD GLAD YEAR OF 1623. 217 
 
 Bradford, concerning whom and himself there is 
 a bit of romance. They loved each other when 
 they were young in England, but were not per- 
 mitted to marry. Now she had come to him at 
 his desire, and they were married two weeks after 
 the arrival of the Anne. 
 
 On this same vessel came also a boy named 
 Nathaniel Morton. He was twelve years old, and 
 we can easily imagine 'with what eager eyes he 
 must have scanned the group of houses nestling 
 upon the hillside under shelter of the fort, as the 
 Anne sailed into the harbor and dropped anchor. 
 The sight of the shabby clothes, the fish proffered 
 without bread, would not discourage him. He 
 would be thinking of the partridges to be trapped 
 in the woods, of the strange Indians of whom he 
 had read, of the delight of living in a country full 
 of fresh, new things. This boy grew up to be 
 Secretary of the colony and the compiler of the 
 Memorials of New England. 
 
 " It seems good to hear about a boy once in a 
 while," said Russell at this point in the narrative. 
 "You'd think to read history that there didn't 
 use to be any boys, except boy-kings. Now, for 
 my part, I should like to know what the boys and 
 girls have been doing all these years since the
 
 2l8 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 world began. We never hear anything about them 
 till they 're grown up." 
 
 "There's George Washington, he" began 
 Dick, but Russell interrupted him with, " Oh, that 
 old axe story ! Don't, for pity's sake, mention 
 that. But, I say, it always seemed to me that 
 Washington was a hundred years old when he was 
 born." 
 
 "That's just what uncle Tom says," replied 
 Suzette. " He says he used to think the Pilgrims 
 were all old men just like Elder Brewster in the 
 picture at Pilgrim Hall, and he was surprised when 
 he found out Edward Winslow was only twenty- 
 six and Governor Bradford somewhere about thirty 
 when they came over. He says he is glad Dick 
 and I were taught differently. Why, they always 
 seem to me just like papa, straight, you know, and 
 with bright, pleasant eyes, and plenty of brown 
 hair, and laughing just as he laughs, as though 
 they were so happy they could n't help it, and all 
 the children running to them and taking their 
 hands, and always so kind and loving and true. 
 That 's what /think the Pilgrims were like. Like 
 Sir Galahad and Hector and Ivanhoe, you know." 
 
 About the time of the arrival of the Anne, great 
 fears had begun to be entertained lest their crop
 
 THE SAD GLAD YEAR OF 1623. 
 
 of Indian corn should be a failure. After the corn 
 was well up and growing, in the third week in 
 May a drought set in, which, up to the middle of 
 July, had not been broken by so much as one 
 shower. 
 
 Day after day the sun rose and set in a cloud- 
 less sky, and under its intense heat the corn 
 drooped, wilted, and in many fields died. In this 
 extremity they resolved to set apart a day of 
 prayer and fasting in which they would especially 
 entreat the good God to send them rain for their 
 crops, lest they should altogether faint and die. 
 
 Their Indian friend, Hobomock, was greatly dis- 
 tressed concerning them. " I am much troubled 
 for the English," he said, " for I am afraid they 
 will lose all their corn by the drought, and so they 
 will all be starved ; as for the Indians they can 
 shift better than the English, for they can get fish 
 for themselves." 
 
 So the day of prayer was appointed, and they 
 all came up, men, women, and little children, to 
 their meeting-house on the hill, with its cannon 
 on top, and which they had built the year previ- 
 ous, and there they held their long service of 
 eight hours. 
 
 The sun had arisen that morning in a clear sky,
 
 22O LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 as usual, and through the early part of the day 
 not a cloud was to be seen, and it was intensely 
 hot. 
 
 The Indians who were in the town wondered at 
 the holding of this week-day service. " For it is 
 only three days since Sunday," they said. It was 
 explained to them that the people were praying to 
 their God that he would send them rain for their 
 thirsty and dying corn, and they waited with curi- 
 osity to see whether the Englishman's God would 
 hear and answer. 
 
 " And He was pleased to give them a gracious 
 and speedy answer," says Bradford. Towards 
 evening the sky began to be overcast, and, 
 shortly after, the rain came in "sweet and gentle " 
 showers. It came without wind or thunder or 
 any other violence, and by degrees in greater 
 abundance so the earth was thoroughly wet, and 
 it was hard to say, writes Edward Winslow, 
 " whether our withered corn or our drooping affec- 
 tions were more quickened and revived." 
 
 The Indians marveled when they saw this rain, 
 and Hobomock said : " Now I see English man's 
 God is a good God, for he hath heard you and sent 
 you rain, and that without storms and tempests and 
 thunders, which usually -we have with our rain,
 
 THE SAD GLAD YEAR OF 7623. 221 
 
 which breaks down our corn ; but yours stands 
 whole and good still. Surely your God is a good 
 God." 
 
 The drooping corn revived, there was an abun- 
 dant harvest, and in due time they set apart their 
 Thanksgiving day. 
 
 The four were silent for a short space after 
 Suzette had finished her story of the drought and 
 the day of fasting. They were doubtless think- 
 ing of the little band here in the wilderness with 
 dying crops and scant resources of food ; though 
 nothing could be farther from one's idea of a wil- 
 derness to-day than these lovely shores with their 
 graceful outlines, and the houses gathered together 
 in town and hamlet, or standing singly amid smil- 
 ing fields. 
 
 It was then that Russell broke the silence with 
 the words with which this chapter begins. And 
 the very expression, "plucky fellows," shows how 
 realistic Suzette's narrative had been, and how 
 thoroughly he felt that he had been listening to 
 the story of the lives of real men. 
 
 " I must tell you the fate of the gay little 'pinass,' 
 The Little James" said Suzette, re-taking the 
 thread of her story. " She was sent first around 
 the Cape to trade with the Narragansetts, but as
 
 222 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 those who went in her had only a few beads and 
 knives to trade with, they did not get many skins. 
 And, as they were coming back, just out there by 
 Brown's Island, you can see the breakers when 
 it is a little rough, just there they were over- 
 taken by a storm and had to cut away the mast to 
 keep from being driven right onto the shoals. 
 
 " Then of course they had to mend her, which 
 cost a good deal. (Is n't it droll that her name 
 should be James and we should say ' she ' ?) And 
 then they sent her down to the coast of Maine 
 fishing. But there she did n't fare any better. 
 She was in a safe harbor with other vessels when 
 a great storm arose and the waves came in where 
 they never came in before, and drove her on the 
 rocks and beat a big hole in her, big enough for a 
 horse and cart to drive through, Governor Brad- 
 ford said. And then she sunk and they let her 
 be for a while. 
 
 "But they thought it a pity such a fine 'vessel 
 should be left to come to pieces in the water, so 
 they got her out and refitted her again, and sent 
 her back to England, for she was altogether too 
 expensive an affair for such poor folks to keep." 
 
 By the end of 1624 the seven houses of Ply- 
 mouth had increased to about thirty, and the
 
 THE SAD GLAD YEAR OF 1623. 22$ 
 
 colonists had not only cattle and goats, but swine 
 and poultry. So they could have apple-slump with 
 cream, as well as furmenty and plum pudding, at 
 their Thanksgiving dinner of that year.
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 THE LITTLE GRANDMOTHER S RIDE. 
 
 Into the tranquil woods, where bluebirds and robins are building 
 Towns in the populous trees with hanging gardens of verdure 
 Peaceful, aerial cities of joy and affection and freedom. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 OOMETHING more about my good grancl- 
 *-^ mother, pussy ? She was your great-grand- 
 mother as well, and you sometimes remind me 
 of her in the straight look of your eyes and in 
 other little ways, although you do not really 
 resemble her in feature. 
 
 " She had keen black eyes that found out all 
 your secrets, no matter if Chatty had dried all 
 your clothes when you tumbled into the ditch 
 going where you had no business to go. And if 
 you had a bad pain from eating green apples, which 
 were forbidden, no matter how hard you might try 
 to conceal it, she knew all about it. 
 
 " Perhaps it was because she loved mischief 
 herself when she was a girl and so knew all the 
 outs and ins of mischievous boys and girls. I am 
 224
 
 THE LITTLE GRANDMOTHER'S RIDE. 22$ 
 
 inclined to think from what I have heard her say 
 that her mother held the reins pretty tightly, too 
 tightly perhaps, so that her young colts could n't 
 help kicking out their heels and running away 
 occasionally. My grandfather's principle of gov- 
 ernment was to keep the reins in his hands but 
 give young things their heads, and only rein them 
 in when they were running headlong into mischief, 
 which is better I think. 
 
 " I remember hearing her tell a story, indeed, I 
 heard her tell it a good many times, for it was a 
 favorite with Pen a story about a silk gown her 
 father bought for her when she was quite a girl, 
 sixteen perhaps. It was her first one, and a silk 
 gown was a rare treasure in those days, something 
 to be carefully put by and worn only on the most 
 extraordinary occasions. 
 
 " This one was folded in linen and laid away in 
 a deep drawer with lavender from the garden. 
 Soon after its purchase her particular crony was 
 to give a party on her birthday, to which all the 
 young people were to be invited ; and among the 
 rest, our little grandmother of course. Her name 
 was Molly, and we will call her Molly, our little, 
 young grandmother. 
 
 " Well, Molly ventured to hint to her somewhat
 
 226 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 stern mother that she would like to wear the new 
 silk ; it was brocade, I think, of a delicate laven- 
 der and pink. But she was promptly bidden to 
 put away all such extravagant and improper ideas 
 from her mind. Her white lawn was the only 
 thing proper for the occasion, her mother said, and 
 an obedient and good child would never give a 
 second thought to a thing her mother had 
 forbidden her. 
 
 " But Molly, I 'm afraid, pussy, did what we are 
 all so inclined to do. Instead of saying to the 
 tempter, ' Get thee behind me,' and giving him a 
 good cuff, as it were, she invited him to come a 
 little nearer, by many a little sneaking thought of 
 how pretty she would look in the new silk, how she 
 would outshine all the other girls, how unreason- 
 able her mother was, and so on and so on. And 
 she even had the temerity to further invite him by 
 unlocking the drawer, the key being one of those 
 attached to her mother's chatelaine, but which she 
 had left by accident hanging from another drawer 
 in the great carved chest, by unlocking the 
 drawer in which the much-desired gown was kept, 
 turning back the linen cover, touching the soft, 
 shining silk, and lifting the lovely blonde lace 
 encircling the low neck and short puffed sleeves.
 
 THE LITTLE GRANDMOTHER'S RIDE. 227 
 
 How irresistible it was ! and how Molly did wish 
 she could wear it to that party ! Naughty little 
 grandmother ! And she then and there resolved 
 she would wear it, for she had a daring soul, our 
 little grandmother. 
 
 "Then she went over and confided her deter- 
 mination to 'Tenty Richmond 'Tenty being 
 short for Content and 'Tenty encouraged her 
 in her wilfulness, and suggested a plan for circum- 
 venting Molly's mother on the instant, a plan that 
 did much credit to 'Tenty's strategical abilities. 
 But you may be sure, pussy, they kept this plan 
 carefully from 'Tenty's mother. 
 
 "The plan was that Molly should smuggle the 
 gown over into 'Tenty's bedroom the afternoon 
 before the party ; that Molly should dress in the 
 white lawn, come over and change it for the silk ; 
 then when the party was over, she could resume 
 the white lawn, go home, and show herself to her 
 mother, and smuggle batck the pink and lavender 
 silk the next day. 
 
 " An admirable plan, as you see, without a weak 
 spot in it ! But alas ! pussy, you know what 
 Robbie Burns says about the 'best-laid plans of 
 mice and men,' and how they come out. And it 's 
 equally true of the schemes of young lasses when
 
 228 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 they try to outwit their mothers. 'Tenty's plan 
 worked very well up to a certain point. The gown 
 was safely smuggled over into 'Tenty's bedroom. 
 Molly was dressed by her mother in the pretty 
 white lawn. She looked very pretty, I suspect, 
 though her good mother would not be likely to tell 
 her so. She would be much more likely to repeat 
 that time-honored aphorism, ' Handsome is that 
 handsome does.' 
 
 "Then she went over to 'Tenty's bedroom, 
 where the pretty pink and lavender brocade lay 
 upon the little white bed, shining wonderfully in 
 the dim light of the one candle. She quickly ex- 
 changed the lawn for it, 'Tenty assisting at the 
 toilet and declaring that she looked beautifully in 
 it. Everybody admired it and her when she went 
 down into the parlor ; and for an hour or so 
 things went on swimmingly until they betook 
 themselves to a large, unfurnished room where 
 they were to dance. 
 
 " Molly was standing at the head of her set, the 
 'cynosure of neighboring eyes,' as Mr. Milton 
 says, when some one espied a small liquid stream 
 dribbling down from a crack in the wooden ceiling 
 directly upon the skirt of her beautiful gown. It 
 was 'Tenty who sprang forward with a cry of an-
 
 THE LITTLE GRANDMOTHER'S RIDE. 2 29 
 
 guish, ' O Molly ! ' and drew her away. But it 
 was too late. The stream was of oil, and the 
 beautiful gown was, to all appearance, ruined. 
 
 "Ah, then and there was hurrying to and fro, 
 and towels were brought, and the oil was sopped, 
 and the gown was rubbed, while Molly stood silent 
 and pale with dismay, the one thought in her mind 
 being what her mother would say and do ; and 
 'Tenty's brother went up into the chamber to stop 
 the stream of oil before it spoiled any more toilets, 
 and to ascertain its source. 
 
 " He found there an imbecile boy of the neigh- 
 borhood who, poor creature, spent his time in 
 doing mischief, and was deliberately pouring the 
 oil down. 
 
 " Well, Molly's pleasure for that evening was at 
 an end, and she withdrew to 'Tenty's bedroom, 
 and nothing would induce her to come out again, 
 though the girls came and said, ' I would n't let it 
 spoil the evening, Molly. It is n't like you to feel 
 so badly over a spoiled gown.' But they didn't 
 know about the spoiled plan, of course. And when 
 the time came to go, she put on the white lawn, 
 and went home and showed herself to her mother 
 in it, and then went sorrowfully to bed. 
 
 " She did n't sleep much that night, and the
 
 230 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 next day, after her spinning stent was done, she 
 went over, ostensibly to talk the party over with 
 'Tenty, but really to consult with her as to what 
 could be done with the gown. The oil had badly 
 streaked two whole breadths. They could think 
 of nothing to do, and at last, in sheer despair, 
 they took 'Tenty's mother into their confidence. 
 She thought magnesia might take out the oil, but 
 it would be a matter of weeks, and she advised 
 that Molly's mother should be told. 
 
 " This advice coincided with the suggestions of 
 Molly's conscience, and, taking the gown in her 
 hand, she went home and, standing humbly before 
 her mother, confessed her naughtiness, making a 
 clean breast of it and not sparing herself, and 
 was condemned to one day's solitary imprison- 
 ment in the spare bed-chamber with bread and 
 water only to eat. 
 
 " She always told us she should n't have minded 
 the solitary imprisonment so much, if she could 
 only have stayed in her own cheerful bedroom 
 instead of in the great dismal spare bed-chamber, 
 with its huge and ghostly tent bedstead. It was 
 never opened more than two or three times a year 
 for some guest of extraordinary importance. There 
 were other bedrooms for lesser guests. She was
 
 THE LITTLE GRANDMOTHER'S RIDE. 23! 
 
 permitted to have one of the thick green shades at 
 the windows drawn up to the height of the first 
 row of small window panes. That was all. The 
 corners were in shadow, and a nervous person 
 would have found it all unbearable. But our little 
 grandmother, luckily for her, was not a nervous 
 person. 
 
 " She was permitted to have no book and no 
 work, not even her knitting. She might have 
 smuggled some in, I suppose, but she had got 
 enough of smuggling. And she said she sat and 
 watched a spider spinning a net over one of the 
 window-panes for the greater part of the day. 
 By-and-by the only fly in the room got entangled 
 in it. She said that experience ever after made 
 her interested in the ways of spiders and all other 
 insects. She was n't the kind of girl to shriek and 
 run away at sight of a spider, any way. She 
 became in time quite a naturalist and could have 
 written as delightful a book about the dwellers in 
 her garden as the most learned of them all." 
 
 " But was the gown spoiled ? " asked Suzette, 
 who had been listening with delight to this story 
 about her little great-grandmother and thinking 
 what a delightful story-teller was uncle Tom ; quite 
 equal to Scheherezade.
 
 232 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 " It was laid away in magnesia, and that and 
 time together finally did the business and took out 
 the oil. Molly could never endure the sight of it 
 afterwards, and always wore it under protest, as it 
 were. Years after, it was converted into a cover- 
 let which I believe aunt Pen has, at this very 
 time, packed away in some secret lavender-scented 
 old cabinet." 
 
 " Poor little grandmother ! it was hard to be 
 shut up on bread and water," said Suzette. 
 
 "But salutary," rejoined uncle Tom. "She 
 herself always said she deserved it." 
 
 "But this was not what I began to tell you, 
 pussy," uncle Tom went on. " I want to tell you 
 another story I often heard from my grandmother 
 and which is connected with Plymouth itself. 
 She was a little older when that took place ; in 
 fact, I think it was the very year after the gown 
 affair. And we will still call her Molly, and think 
 of her with sunny eyes and a face free from care, 
 instead of the white-haired though beautiful old 
 gentlewoman she was when I saw her last. 
 
 " I remember how, that last time, she went over 
 the incidents of this story, for, like all very old 
 people, she was in her ninety-fourth year, she 
 was fond of recalling her far-away youth, as you
 
 THE LITTLE GRANDMOTHER'S RIDE. 233 
 
 and I shall be when our hair is white, pussy. I 
 had gone up to see her, for she had written to me 
 that she was not well and thought her time was 
 drawing near. There was nothing I could do for 
 her, however, for she was simply about to fall as 
 the ripened grain does, under the sickle of the 
 reaper. 
 
 " I spent a long summer's afternoon with her, 
 and she told over many of the stories she had told 
 Pen and me so many, many times, when we were 
 girl and boy and had come up to spend our 
 vacation at the dear old farm. 
 
 " Molly had a good education for her day, though 
 it would seem very narrow to the college-bred girl 
 of the present. But girls, eighty and even forty 
 years ago, had no such advantages of schools as 
 the girls of to-day have. It is n't but about a 
 hundred years, or a little less, since the question 
 came up in the Plymouth town-meeting whether 
 girls should be schooled at the expense of the state 
 as boys were. It was finally voted, after a good 
 deal of discussion, that they should have one 
 hour's instruction after the boys had got through. 
 One objection brought by an opponent was that 
 he, for one, did not want a woman looking over 
 his shoulder when he was writing and telling him
 
 234 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 how to spell. From which I infer that there were 
 women in his day who did n't know how to spell. 
 
 " But Molly not only learned to spell, but to 
 read, and let me tell you, pussy, when a boy or 
 girl has learned to read, he or she is far on the 
 road to a liberal education. Molly was also taught 
 arithmetic as far as the rule of three, together 
 with a little geography, and, crowning achieve- 
 ment ! she even received instruction in English 
 grammar, upon which acquisition both she and 
 her mother greatly prided themselves. For 
 English grammar was considered as far beyo'nd 
 the scope of the average female mind, and 
 Molly was the only girl of her generation in 
 Halifax who had studied it. She was able to 
 name the moods and tenses, the nouns and 
 pronouns, to know a conjunction when she saw 
 it ; in short, she could parse fluently. Do you 
 know how to parse, pussy ? " 
 
 Suzette looked slightly bewildered. " No, I 
 don't believe I do, uncle Tom," she said. 
 
 "Lucky girl!" replied uncle Tom. "Our grand- 
 mother was always very fond of compliments on 
 her pure English it was her one and only weak 
 point so far as I know. But I am inclined to 
 think that its purity was as much owing to a
 
 THE LITTLE GRANDMOTHER'S RIDE. 235 
 
 diligent reading of the Bible and such books as 
 Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress and Holy War as to 
 the instruction she had in English grammar. For 
 I have often observed, pussy, that what we should 
 call illiterate old men and women often have a 
 remarkable facility of expression, Bible-reading 
 old men and women, I mean, which they could 
 have acquired from no other source. 
 
 "Well, the fame of Molly's achievements, it 
 seems, spread far and wide, and the year after the 
 gown affair Captain Israel Holmes came up from 
 Manomet to ask her to go down and teach their 
 district school. He offered her the large sum, for 
 those days, of one dollar per week and board. 
 She was to board round. It was a great honor to 
 be asked, of course ; her mother and all the family 
 felt that. But then there were adverse considera- 
 tions. Manomet was a great way off. ' Only 
 twenty miles,' we should say to-day a mere bag- 
 atelle. But then why, then it was almost as far 
 between the two as from Plymouth to Colorado 
 to-day. Not that it took so long a time to make 
 the journey as it does the latter. But it had to be 
 made on horseback, and there was no direct 
 communication by mail, and the whole summer 
 might pass without news from the wanderer.
 
 236 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 " And then Molly was so volatile ! her mother 
 said. There was the gown affair ! Could she be 
 trusted to conduct herself with propriety so far 
 from home ? 
 
 " But Molly was eager and her father approved, 
 and so on a Saturday morning, Captain Israel and 
 his wife having arrived the night before, they 
 started for Manomet, Captain Israel's wife on a 
 pillion behind him on one horse, and Molly with 
 her luggage behind her on the second horse. 
 
 " You may be sure her luggage was n't a 
 Saratoga trunk, or even one of hair studded with 
 brass nails, such as may be found in Halifax attics 
 to-day, ancient specimens in which the sons of 
 the family took their small kit up to Harvard. 
 Molly's gowns were few, and she did n't take her 
 pink and lavender brocade. She had a petticoat 
 and short-gown, two in fact, for daily wear, and a 
 white dimity for Sundays." 
 
 All this was vastly interesting to Suzette. She 
 thought it quite in the line of Pilgrim history, and 
 she said so to uncle Tom. 
 
 " So it is," he replied. " It took place almost a 
 hundred years nearer 1620 than we are, and Molly, 
 as you know, was a direct descendant of the Pil- 
 grims, and inherited much of their spirit. She 
 had the fearlessness of a frontier woman.
 
 THE LITTLE GRANDMOTHER'S RIDE. 237 
 
 " She always told us her summer's teaching was 
 a marked success our little grandmother, only 
 three years- older than you are, pussy. I can 
 fancy her, can't you ? presiding demurely over the 
 big girls of her own age, and teaching the young- 
 sters their ABC and their catechism on Satur- 
 days. That was always the Saturday's business, 
 and very familiar teacher and pupils became with 
 the New England Primer, with its ' In Adam's 
 Fall, we sinned all,' and so on. I have the very 
 copy, much worn, out of which Molly learned her 
 catechism, and you must see it, pussy, some day. 
 
 " She boarded round, as I have said, a few 
 clays here and a week there, according to the 
 number of children sent from the family. It 
 was like a continuous feast, for everybody did 
 their very best cooking for the little school-ma'am, 
 and got out their best china, and some of it 
 astonishingly pretty too, I assure you, for I have 
 seen remnants of it at Manomet on what-nots and 
 mantelpieces. And they opened their spare bed- 
 rooms with beds of live geese feathers into which 
 Molly sank those warm summer nights to the 
 tips of her blessed little ears. 
 
 " And so the summer passed happily, and she 
 taught sixteen weeks, for which term, if my arith-
 
 238 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 metic is correct, pussy, and I never was cele- 
 brated for my arithmetical powers, she received 
 the munificent sum of sixteen silver dollars. 
 
 " Sixteen dollars ! pshaw ! Sixteen dollars would 
 n't find a girl of to-day in pocket handkerchiefs 
 for one season ! but to Molly infinite possibilities 
 of expenditure lay within that vast sum. 
 
 " The school closed the very last day of Septem- 
 ber, and it had been arranged with Molly's father 
 that Captain Israel, who had conveyed her safely 
 thither, should also take her back, but, at the time 
 set, Mrs. Israel had one of a certain kind of ' spells ' 
 to which she was liable, and the captain could not 
 be spared. 
 
 " In vain they entreated Molly to wait until 
 such time as he could go. It would not be more 
 than a week at the longest. But Molly could not 
 wait. She had finished her work and was eager to 
 see home and father and mother after her long 
 absence. And she declared that she was n't 
 afraid even to ride alone through Manomet woods, 
 and that was the longest stretch of woods in the 
 whole distance. 
 
 " Afraid ! what was there to be afraid of ? wood- 
 chucks or squirrels ? The few Indians left had 
 become thoroughly tamed during the long interval
 
 THE LITTLE GRANDMOTHER'S RIDE. 239 
 
 since the Pilgrim days, and they lived in houses 
 and worked like other folks, and sent their chil- 
 dren to school. Molly had had three all summer. 
 
 " And was n't she going on Baal Baal who 
 was so swift he could take her away from any- 
 thing but a whirlwind ? And so the brave-hearted, 
 impatient little grandmother had her way, and 
 started one bright October morning on Baal for 
 her twenty miles' ride. 
 
 "Baal was a young horse, black as jet, that had 
 been reared by Captain Israel and bought by Mol- 
 ly's father, and when she came home it had been 
 arranged that she should ride him. He had been 
 broken for her and she had ridden him, more or 
 less, all summer, and they were well acquainted, as, 
 nobody knows better than you, pussy, a horse and 
 his rider should be. He would come to her call 
 from the farthest bounds of his pasture, and no- 
 body could control the fiery yet gentle creature 
 quite as well as Molly. 
 
 " It was a bright autumn day, as I said. I 
 remember how she dwelt on the beauty of the day 
 that last time I saw her. It seemed to be as clear 
 in her memory as though it had been of yesterday. 
 The sky was blue, she said, and over the blue 
 drifted great islands of white clouds, the kind of
 
 240 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 sky which you and I, pussy, think the most beauti- 
 ful sky in the world. 
 
 " The harvest was only partially gathered in, 
 and great heaps of golden pumpkins lay in the 
 fields and corners of the dooryards, and piles of 
 red and yellow apples under the trees in the 
 orchards. The corn-husking was going on, and, as 
 she passed the barns with their great doors flung 
 wide open, she could see the huskers at work. 
 The very next day there was to be a mammoth 
 husking with a harvest supper, for which Molly 
 had been vainly entreated to stay. 
 
 " The golden-rod and the purple asters blos- 
 somed all along the wayside amid tangles of crim- 
 soning blackberry vines and huckleberry bushes, 
 brown burdocks and wild-rose hips, and soft, fluffy 
 seeds ready to take wing. The whole air was full 
 of fruity smells, iced, as it were, with the fresh, 
 cool sea-breeze which came in in a long sweep 
 across the Cape from the Atlantic. All along to 
 the right lay the blue sea, a distant fishing fleet 
 flecking the horizon with white sails. Over the 
 hills scampered the shadows dropped by the 
 drifting clouds." 
 
 " O uncle Tom, I don't wonder she thought it 
 beautiful ! " exclaimed Suzette. " And you you 
 look just as though you saw it."
 
 THE LITTLE GRANDMOTHER'S RIDE. 24! 
 
 Uncle Tom laughed. 
 
 " Well, she rode slowly along, not hastening, for 
 she had the day before her, but taking in all the 
 beauty, and nodding to the huskers in the barns, 
 the women at their kitchen doors, and the children 
 who, with baskets and tin pails, were bound for 
 beechnuts and plums. 
 
 " By-and-by she came to the woods, a stretch 
 of eight miles. She remembered the autumnal 
 beauty of the woods that day as she rode into 
 them. The trees were in their glory, and the 
 hickorys, in places where they stood on either side 
 of the road, seemed to flood it with a golden radi- 
 ance. The oaks were just beginning to turn, 
 though some were already of a deep carmine, and 
 the sumachs blazed as only sumachs can, while 
 here and there, by way of contrast, was seen a 
 purple ash. The birches were partially shorn of 
 their splendor, but single leaves dropped like soli- 
 tary flakes of fire to join the harlequin drifts which 
 lay by the roadside. In one open glade the fringed 
 gentian lifted its heavenly blue. 
 
 "Then would come a bit of pine woods, the 
 trees meeting overhead and interlacing in such a 
 way as to shut out all but stray gleams of sunlight ; 
 and here Baal's footfalls fell silently upon the thick 
 mats of brown needles.
 
 242 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 "As she rode along she suffered the reins to 
 hang somewhat loosely on Baal's neck, though she 
 was too good a horsewoman not to be sufficiently 
 on her guard to gather them up on the instant, if 
 necessary. 
 
 " As she was passing through one of the denser 
 portions of the wood, having already gone three 
 miles out of the eight, suddenly, from a thicket at 
 the left, a man sprang out and caught at Baal's 
 bridle. The horse shied, gave one great bound, 
 and was off, Molly holding firmly the reins, her 
 Pilgrim blood up and her faculties all alert. 
 
 " As Baal sprang she had caught sight of a horse 
 in the thicket, and knew in a moment that the 
 man, whoever he might be, would follow and five 
 miles between her and safety. It was the sixteen 
 silver dollars in her saddlebags that he wanted, she 
 had not a doubt. For an instant she thought of 
 taking them out and throwing them to him, as peo- 
 ple throw meat to pursuing wolves, you know, to 
 keep the brutes busy while they make off. But 
 no ! no ! it would be shameful to lose the results 
 of her whole summer's work after such cowardly 
 fashion. 
 
 " So on ! on, Baal ! and we '11 see who will win ! 
 She had no time to speculate as to who the high-
 
 THE LITTLE GRANDMOTHER'S RIDE. 243 
 
 wayman might be and how he came to know of 
 her solitary ride. For in a moment she heard the 
 quick coming footsteps of his horse behind, and 
 all her thought was concentrated on escape. 
 
 " She had never put Baal down to his utmost 
 speed, but she knew he was fast and her hopes 
 were high. She encouraged him from moment to 
 moment with caressing words which he well under- 
 stood, she knew, by the prick of his ears ; but 
 there was no time for him to acknowledge her 
 caresses, even by a neigh or a turn of his head. 
 
 " The gallant beast evidently took in the situa- 
 tion, at any rate, so his mistress always affirmed 
 whenever she told the story, and actually seemed 
 to fly ; while the footsteps behind, if they did not 
 lessen in the distance, at least came no nearer. 
 
 " There was one very critical moment, that 
 wherein Molly felt the saddle slipping under her, 
 and knew there was nothing else to do but to 
 jump off and tighten the girth. She did so, draw- 
 ing the buckles tightly with firm hands that did 
 not tremble or shake one bit, she always declared, 
 though she heard each moment the steps drawing 
 nearer. But, somehow, she said, instead of fear 
 she had a kind of exhilaration, such as a man has, 
 I suppose, when he 's fairly in the battle and
 
 244 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 knows he 's in for it. Danger acts upon gallant 
 natures like a stimulant, and our little grand- 
 mother had a gallant nature, pussy. 
 
 " Having tightened the straps, she touched the 
 saddlebow with one hand and sprang lightly to her 
 seat, for -such was her horsemanship she needed 
 not the outstretched hand or helping arm to assist 
 her to mount. New England country girls then 
 were trained and active riders ; it is a pity the 
 fashion has so died out. 
 
 "The footsteps had drawn dangerously near 
 during this pause, but Baal had also had time to 
 take breath and he was off again like the wind. 
 
 " The woods had begun to thin on either hand, 
 and glimpses of open country to be seen far ahead, 
 when a horseman suddenly came into view, who, 
 as he drew near, Molly recognized as the son of a 
 townsman, Jack by name, although she could 
 hardly credit her eyes at first. 
 
 " He, on his part, was somewhat taken aback at 
 seeing Molly coming on at such a breakneck pace, 
 having expected to meet her ambling gently along 
 by the side of Captain Israel, and he drew up at 
 one side so as not to be incontinently run over. 
 
 " Molly drew rein beside him and in a few words 
 explained the situation. The highwayman came
 
 THE LITTLE GRANDMOTHERS RIDE, 245 
 
 into view, but, seeing the new-comer, turned tail 
 and rode off, Jack sending a pistol shot after him, 
 or rather into the air above him, from the pistol at 
 his saddle, to let him know what he might expect 
 should he change his mind and renew the chase. 
 
 "Then Jack explained his presence. He had 
 come to Plymouth town on business and, learning 
 from her mother that this was the day of Molly's 
 return, after completing that business had ridden 
 on to meet them. And very fortunate it was 
 doubtless, though Molly always insisted that Baal 
 would have brought her safely through. 
 
 " So together they rode through the old Pilgrim 
 land, Jack and our little grandmother : by the 
 hamlet of Eel River, now Chiltonville, where 
 Squanto trampled out the eels for the Pilgrims, 
 which primitive way of catching them has given 
 place to eel-pots ; through Holmes Hole, now 
 modernized into Wellingsly ; through Plymouth 
 town, a hamlet when compared with the Plymouth 
 of to-day ; and then by way of Rocky Nook and 
 Kingston town, Triphammer, Wapping, and Plymp- 
 ton, over many a winding stream and through 
 many a solitary woods, and the sun was down and 
 a new moon in the west as they drew rein at the 
 dear old farm-house, with its avenue of stately
 
 246 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 poplars leading to the front porch, long since 
 felled by the woodman's axe. 
 
 " Baal lived to an extraordinary age, my grand- 
 mother said, and in his later years was suffered to 
 do no work, but had the choicest of pastures 
 allotted to him in summer and the warmest of 
 stalls in winter. 
 
 " She showed me once where they buried him 
 on the evening of the day on which he died, and 
 told me how she and Jack wept over him, grown 
 man and woman though they were, for Jack was 
 our grandfather, pussy, my grandfather and your 
 great-grandfather. " 
 
 " Oh, how beautiful ! " cried Suzette, with a great 
 light in her eyes, for, as we have seen, she dearly 
 loved a bit of romance.
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 THE CHILDREN'S EXCURSION. 
 
 "Full humble were their meals, 
 
 Their dainties very few; 
 Twas only ground-nuts, clams, and eels, 
 When this old chair was new." 
 
 a Bible. 
 Ponderous, bound in leather, brass-studded, printed in Holland. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 '"T^HEY were coming five hundred children, 
 * so it was said, from Boston, that warm, 
 bright morning in early September ; coming in 
 the Stamford, to spend a few hours in Old Pil- 
 grim Town. 
 
 Five hundred children ! Suzette's breath was 
 almost taken away at the very thought of it ! 
 And as the steamer anchored at Long Wharf, and 
 after some delay the crowd of children began to 
 move up North Street in a dense but orderly 
 mass, she leaned over the railing and scanned 
 them eagerly. 
 
 Presently, out from the mass, a pair of blue 
 247
 
 248 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 and a pair of black eyes looked up to her with a 
 glance of recognition, and two small mouths 
 smiled, displaying the dimpliest of cheeks. Then 
 it was that aunt Pen, who was standing in the 
 front door, saw Suzette rush along the street 
 and, turning at the corner, plunge down hill. 
 She, too, then hurried to the railing, and, leaning 
 over, saw her seize by the hand two little girls 
 who laughed and struggled out of the mass. 
 
 " Are they friends of yours ? " asked aunt Pen's 
 pleasant voice. 
 
 And Suzette, looking up, replied : " Yes ; and 
 may n't I ask them up ? I should so like to take 
 them round. May I, aunt Pen ? " 
 
 " But you must ask that of some of the friends 
 who are with them," was aunt Pen's reply. 
 
 This was quickly done of a sweet-faced woman 
 who had this particular section in charge, and con- 
 sent was given. 
 
 " Who are your little friends ? " asked aunt Pen, 
 as she came forward to greet them. And Suzette 
 had to reply : " O aunt Pen, I don't know their 
 names ! but we picked dandelions together on 
 Boston Common." 
 
 " My name is Maggie Mather," said Blue-eyes. 
 
 "And mine is Nora O'Reilly," said Black-eyes.
 
 THE CHILDREN'S EXCURSION. 249 
 
 Having thus been introduced, aunt Pen took 
 them into the cool parlor. 
 
 It was extremely warm a little too warm, aunt 
 Pen felt, on reflection, for Suzette to be walking 
 several hours in the heat of the day ; and so she 
 made a proposition which Suzette pronounced 
 " perfectly charming," and which Maggie and 
 Nora felt in their inmost souls was " splendid ! " 
 though in their shyness they did not venture to 
 say so. It was that Jason should put Queen Bess 
 and Queen Ann to the carriage, and take them a 
 little drive around Pilgrim Town, up to Billington 
 Sea and out to the Pilgrim Monument, and, return- 
 ing, leave them at Pilgrim Hall for a short hour 
 perhaps, and then bring them back, after which 
 they could visit Burial Hill and the rock. 
 
 We have been to almost all these places with 
 Suzette in previous chapters, so in this we will 
 only accompany her to Pilgrim Hall. Not that 
 this was her first visit there. She and Dick had 
 been there many times during the weeks they had 
 spent in Pilgrim Town. But we shall not feel 
 that we know this old town well unless we, too, 
 have seen its famous hall. 
 
 This hall is built of granite, and has a portico 
 across its front which, if you should ask me its
 
 250 
 
 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 style, I should tell you was Doric. In its pedi- 
 ment is a carving in wood of the Landing. It is 
 highly imaginative, of course, for an Indian is 
 represented as kneeling before the Pilgrim who is 
 
 stepping out of the boat ; and we know no Indian 
 was there. The Pilgrim's right hand is out- 
 stretched, and in that hand a saucy English spar- 
 row had built its nest that spring, and conse- 
 quently the Pilgrim looked very much as though 
 he had been birds'-nesting, like a naughty boy. 
 That was what Suzette heard a gentleman re- 
 mark as she was going up the steps, and as she
 
 THE CHILDREN'S EXCURSION. 251 
 
 looked up the sparrow flew down, almost brushing 
 her cheek in passing. 
 
 In all her visits to the hall Suzette could never 
 quite decide which thing it was that pleased and 
 interested her most : whether it was the bit of 
 quilt that once belonged to the lovely Rose Stand- 
 ish, or John Alden's Bible, or the shoes that Penel- 
 ope Winslow, wife of Governor Josiah Winslow, 
 wore when a baby, or Edward Winslow' s gold 
 ring, or the redoubtable sword of the redoubtable 
 Myles Standish. 
 
 This " trusty sword," as Longfellow calls it, 
 
 " Curved at the point and inscribed with its mystical Arabic 
 sentences," 
 
 has also upon its blade the sun and moon with 
 lions' faces engraved inside of them. This is said 
 to be a Persian blade, and made of meteoric iron, 
 which drops down to us from somewhere in the 
 great blue space around us. Orientals believe that 
 swords made of this iron are specially lucky, and 
 that the bearer has a charmed life. 
 
 In that hall, too, are the huge iron pot and pew- 
 ter platter of Myles Standish, and if we gauge his 
 appetite by the size of them it must have been
 
 252 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 excellent. In that pot was cooked, perhaps, a 
 portion of the eagle the Pilgrims killed and which 
 they thought tasted so much like mutton ! 
 
 And there is the dressing-case of Penelope 
 Winslow, which shows that, if our Pilgrim mothers 
 did eat without forks, they were not quite desti- 
 tute of the elegancies of life ; and also a bead 
 purse which she made. 
 
 There, too, is a pewter platter once belonging 
 to Governor Edward Winslow, upon which is 
 engraved his coat-of-arms, and the chair and table 
 which stood in his council chamber. 
 
 But I think that, after all, the one thing of 
 deepest interest to Suzette was the sampler of 
 Lorea Standish, the little daughter of Myles 
 Standish. All our great-great-grandmothers had 
 to work their samplers, as they were called, when 
 they were little girls, working the letters upon the 
 canvas in the pretty cross-stitch which is still the 
 prettiest of all for simple marking of clothes. 
 And here is the inscription on that sampler just 
 as it is embroidered :
 
 THE CHILDREN'S EXCURSION. 253 
 
 Lorea Standish is my name 
 
 Lord guide my heart that 
 I may doe thy will. Also fill 
 my hands with such c 
 onvenient skill as may 
 conduce to vertue void of 
 shame and I will give 
 the glory to thy name 
 
 Suzette never tired of looking at this faded bit 
 of work. She liked to think of the little Lorea 
 sitting in the kitchen of that solitary house over 
 there in Duxbury, working away at it while the 
 dinner boiled in the big pot and the brightly 
 scoured pewter dishes shone upon the dresser. 
 Her father would come in from his work or his 
 trip to Plymouth, perhaps, and look at it and 
 praise his little daughter's work. For he was a 
 tender-hearted man, as we know from what Gov- 
 ernor William Bradford has told us how he 
 watched over and tended and bathed and fed the
 
 254 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 sick that sad first winter. And we know from 
 that that he must have been a loving father. 
 
 There, too, is the Dutch cradle in which Pere- 
 grine White was rocked, and the inlaid cabinet 
 which he owned and used when a man, and a brass 
 candlestick and cane that belonged to his father, 
 and a cape and slipper which his mother wore. I 
 wonder what became of the other slipper ! 
 
 For the Indian relics Suzette did not care. In- 
 dians were an every-day thing to her. Though an 
 exception should be made of the gun with which 
 King Philip was killed the brave King Philip 
 who died fighting gallantly for his race and 
 country, and whose wife and son were afterward 
 sold as slaves in the West Indies. 
 
 There was a case of bones also, which may be 
 said to have interested her in a way, though it was 
 a rather grewsome kind of interest. These bones 
 comprised the skeleton of the sachem lyanough, 
 that " fayre-conditioned " young man who break- 
 fasted the Pilgrim party when they were in search 
 of John Billington. These bones were dug up at 
 Barnstable, and the big kettle in the case had 
 covered the head. 
 
 But as to the sofa and clock of John Hancock, 
 and the hay-fork which was used in making the
 
 THE CHILDREN'S EXCURSION. 
 
 255 
 
 breastworks of hay at the battle of Bunker Hill, 
 they were all too modern to interest this antiquity- 
 loving Westerner. 
 
 There were spinning-wheels and spectacles that 
 came over in the Mayflower, and a candle two 
 
 hundred years old, and a big Dutch Bible, and an 
 ancient teapot, and But it is no use just to 
 give the names of the things those three saw ; it 
 would simply be a catalogue, that is all. And a 
 catalogue gives no better idea of things than a bill- 
 of-fare does of a dinner. You must see the things 
 and eat the dinner if you would know what they 
 are like.
 
 256 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 Maggie and Nora, having small knowledge of 
 the Pilgrim Fathers and their wives and children, 
 liked best the gay paintings upon the wall the 
 big one where Samoset is seen, and in which is 
 Baby Peregrine looking very blue and cold, and 
 the one of equal size of the Embarkation, in 
 which is painted the beautiful wife of Edward 
 Winslow. 
 
 There is one portrait in the Hall of great inter- 
 est that of Governor Edward Winslow, the only 
 known original portrait of a Mayflower Pilgrim. 
 He was born in Droitwich, England, and lived in 
 Marshfield, where he had an estate named Cares- 
 well. It was so called for his English home. 
 Such things as this show how these brave men 
 loved the land from which they felt constrained to 
 flee. 
 
 As they were driving home from Pilgrim Hall 
 they came upon a group of boys on the sidewalk, 
 the center of which was a plump little fellow of 
 eight or thereabouts, down whose cheeks the tears 
 were streaming^ while around him the other boys 
 were scrambling for apples which were rolling 
 hither and thither. 
 
 " Oh, stop, Jason, please ! " said Suzette. 
 "What is the matter, little boy?"
 
 THE CHILDREN'S EXCURSION. 
 
 "It's Micky Mahon," said Maggie. "He lives 
 in the house with us." 
 
 " Micky, what 's the matter ? " And with one 
 voice the boys began to tell. Somebody had given 
 them all the apples they could carry away, early 
 apples, very golden, very round and smooth, and 
 Micky had tied strings around the bottom of his 
 trowser's legs, and filled them with the apples. 
 But, alas ! the strings, not being strong, had 
 broken, and voila ! as the French say, all the 
 apples had rolled away, the boys were eating 
 them, and Micky was heartbroken. 
 
 " Served him right, the greedy feller ! " said 
 some of the boys. But Suzette did not think so. 
 " Come into the carriage, Micky," she said. 
 " There 's plenty of room, and you shall go home 
 with us, and aunt Pen will give you all the apples 
 you want. Won't she, Jason ? " 
 
 " I reckon," said Jason. 
 
 And as they rode along Suzette wiped the tears 
 from his hot cheeks with her soft, cool handker- 
 chief, and comforted him. He wanted to carry 
 the apples home to mother and little Pat, he said. 
 Little Pat had hardly ever had an apple, and never 
 such round, yellow, fair ones as these, and he 
 wanted to tell him how he had picked them up
 
 258 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 himself, and how they grew on a tree ! Micky 
 himself, never knew before that apples grew on 
 trees ! He thought somebody made 'em, like as 
 they did candy and peanuts ! Poor little Micky ! 
 
 Mehitable, who had never been outside of Ply- 
 mouth more than twice in her life, and to whom 
 Boston was a far-away Babylon, whose inhabitants 
 had a mixture of chalk and water called milk, and 
 a compound of villainous fats dubbed butter, and 
 fermented fruits, and cottony bakers' loaves served 
 up to them for daily bread, had prepared for 
 Maggie and Nora a delicious lunch, to which 
 Micky was cordially welcomed, after she had taken 
 him out to the kitchen sink and with motherly 
 hands bathed his face and removed every trace of 
 tears. 
 
 So far as these three were concerned, Me- 
 hitable was right concerning the daily bread of 
 Boston. For never had they dreamed, much more 
 tasted, of such luscious blackberries, such sweet 
 cream, such glasses of fragrant milk, and such 
 delicate pound-cakes. They ate their fill, and 
 when they went down to the Stamford each had a 
 package of dainties to take home, and Micky, in 
 addition, a basket of the loveliest pink and yellow 
 apples. And Maggie, as she waved her hat to
 
 THE CHILDREN'S EXCURSION. 259 
 
 Suzette, who was standing under the lindens as 
 the Stamford moved off, was surer than before 
 that here was one of tne saints in the flesh. 
 
 Teddy, too, had his adventure that day. As he 
 was standing at the head of North Street looking 
 at the procession of children, he caught sight of a 
 familiar face that of the newspaper boy of 
 whom he had declared that if ever he caught him 
 in Plymouth he 'd " smash his nose and give him 
 gowdy." And that was his first impulse. But it 
 quickly passed. For since that time, as we know, 
 he had been in a different school, and was trying 
 not only to be outwardly courteous like Dick, but 
 inwardly good as he thought he was. 
 
 So, bravely throttling the old familiar spirit of 
 retaliation, he crossed the street and hailed him 
 with a hospitable " Hallo, old chap ! Glad t' see 
 ye!" 
 
 They fraternized at once, an I Teddy took him 
 all about and showed him everything. 
 
 Much to Teddy's delight, Phil -for that was 
 his name, so he informed him, Phil Wildsmith 
 Phil not only knew little about our Pilgrim 
 Fathers, but had not even so much as heard of 
 them. It is not necessary to apologize for Teddy's 
 delight ; most of us can understand what a satis-
 
 26O LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 faction it was to him to find another boy in even a 
 darker condition in regard to Pilgrim history than 
 was he when Suzette took him in hand. And 
 then there was the pleasure of telling him the 
 story ! 
 
 But Phil did not take to Pilgrim Hall. From his 
 point of view all the historical treasures gathered 
 there were mere rubbish. He was not inter- 
 ested in them. Neither was he greatly interested 
 in the rock at first. Even the canopy, with its 
 carved scallop shells, the Pilgrim's sign and token, 
 struck him as far less worthy of notice than 
 Bunker Hill Monument under the shadow of 
 which he had grown up. That was tall, but this ! 
 what a little thing it was ! 
 
 Phil's father and mother were English, and his 
 mother, the only one of the two he remembered, 
 had told him a good many things about her native 
 land which had fixed themselves in his memory ; 
 and so, when Teddy told him the Pilgrims came 
 from England, his attention was at last caught. 
 Upon this peg Teddy proceeded to hang his in- 
 formation. 
 
 From Pilgrim Hall they had walked up to the 
 high hill upon which stands the National Monu- 
 ment to the Pilgrims. Phil had seen this from the
 
 THE CHILDREN'S EXCURSION. 26 I 
 
 harbor as they sailed in ; had noticed the figure 
 of Faith on its summit, which, seen from that dis- 
 tance, seems to stand poised for flight. Much, 
 if not all of this lightness, vanishes, however, as 
 one draws near. 
 
 And what was this book she held, he asked, and 
 why was she pointing upward ? Teddy tried to 
 explain as well as he could, but the allegory 
 proved too much for him, and he soon abandoned 
 the attempt, not only to explain the figure of 
 Faith, but the other great allegorical figures which 
 are seated upon the four arms of the cross, some 
 with wide-open and others with blind eyes. 
 
 These figures are Law, Morality, Education, and 
 Liberty. Morality holds in her hands the Law 
 given on the Mount and the scroll of St. John's 
 Revelation. On either side of her stand the small 
 figures of a prophet and an evangelist. Law is 
 accompanied with similar small figures of Justice 
 and Mercy ; and Education has beside her a little 
 figure of Wisdom, and that of a fair boy led by 
 Experience. On Liberty's pedestal we see gentle 
 Peace, and Tyranny overthrown. 
 
 But when they came to the panels inserted 
 under these figures Teddy was more at home, 
 and he explained enthusiastically how this one,
 
 262 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 the first in order, was the Embarkation, the 
 setting sail of the Pilgrims from Delft-Haven. 
 The man with the long cloak on, who was helping 
 the woman on board, was John Robinson, Teddy 
 said. It was just like him to help the woman. 
 He was a good man ; a man that liked to help 
 folks, Suzette had told him. He was the Pilgrims' 
 minister, and he had come to comfort them and 
 to say good-by to them. 
 
 He could n't go with them. He had got to stay 
 behind and take care of those that were left. For 
 they could n't all come at once, and some had to 
 leave their wives and children, and some had 
 to leave their fathers and mothers behind. 
 
 Phil understood this, because he remembered 
 his mother used to tell him how. she felt when she 
 had to come away from the old country and leave 
 all her kin behind. 
 
 At this point in the story he had to take out 
 a cigarette and light it. For though Phil was 
 a newsboy, and could call a boy when he was lost 
 and had politely asked him the way a "green- 
 horn " and "cucumbers," he was n't so bad a fellow 
 after all. And whenever he thought about his 
 mother, and how she had died in great want, and 
 he could n't earn money enough to get the oranges
 
 THE CHILDREN'S EXCURSION. 263 
 
 and wine the doctor talked about, it always made 
 his eyes misty. Being a manly boy, he did n't 
 like to have folks see his misty eyes, and the 
 smoke of a cigarette would hide their mistiness, or, 
 if not, would offer an excuse for it. 
 
 Though that was by no means Phil's only 
 reason for smoking cigarettes. The truth is he 
 had formed a habit of liking them. 
 
 " Take one ? " he asked of Teddy. 
 
 "No, thanks," replied Teddy, who had never 
 formed that habit. 
 
 " And do you see that man with a gun in his 
 hand, and the little fellow holding on to him ? 
 He is waving good-by to somebody ashore. And 
 there is a woman kneeling and saying a prayer. 
 Oh, they are sorry to come away ! 
 
 " And here in this panel is a man sitting at a 
 table writing. This is The Signing of the Com- 
 pact," Suzette had told him. When they signed 
 the Compact the Mayflower lay off Provincetown. 
 They had n't been on shore. " You can see Prov- 
 incetown from here, sometimes, Phil." 
 
 " Oh, I 've be'n to Provincetown," said Phil. " I 
 went on an excursion with a lot of other newspaper 
 boys, an' we give the Provincetown folks fits, you 
 bet ! It 's an awful sandy place."
 
 264 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 Of course Provincetown was n't there then, 
 Teddy went on to say ; it had n't been settled. 
 " There wa' n't nobody but Injuns there then." 
 
 "Injuns!" exclaimed Phil just as Teddy had 
 done when Suzette had told him about them. 
 " Did Injuns ever live here ? " And Teddy had 
 to explain a little about the Indians, though stick- 
 ing mostly to the story of the panels. 
 
 Before they went ashore at Provincetown they 
 wrote a paper promising to stick together, and to 
 make laws to govern themselves by, and to keep 
 those laws, and then they signed it. , Then they 
 chose Mr. Carver to be their Governor, and that 
 was he, Teddy thought, who was standing by the 
 table with his hand on an dpen book, the Bible 
 most likely. And that was the Compact, the 
 paper they signed, lying on the table. It was a 
 very wonderful paper, Suzette had said. " It was 
 the first time men had made a government without 
 a king. " And you know, Phil, we ain't got a king; 
 we 've got a President." And the man standing 
 there was Myles Standish. " You can tell him 
 because he 's such a little feller little but smart." 
 
 "He was an awful feller for Injuns," said 
 Teddy. " Made 'em stand round. He was a real 
 soldier. The rest wa' n't real soldiers. They
 
 THE CHILDREN'S EXCURSION. 265 
 
 wore armor though, and carried guns, because 
 they had to, or the Injuns would have killed 
 them all. 
 
 "And this picture," said Teddy, indicating the 
 third panel, "is where they landed on the rock. 
 It 's the Landing. It was winter, and that 's why 
 there are big blocks of ice in the panel. It was 
 awfully cold, and plenty of snow and ice. 
 
 "And see 'em looking all round, curious, you 
 know, to see if there was any Injuns or wolves 
 about, or anything. But there wasn't an Injun 
 close by. They 'd all died. But they left their 
 cornfields, an' that 's why the Pilgrims come to 
 land here instead of somewhere else : because 
 there was cleared lands an' springs of good water. 
 They did n't want to dig wells, an' the water 
 was n't brought in from South Pond then. The 
 Injuns that come afterwards to see 'em fived 
 somewhere else. 
 
 " An' d' y' see that Pilgrim with his hat in his 
 hand, lookin' so young an' handsome ? That 's 
 John Alden. He was twenty-one years old when 
 he come. Suzette thinks lots of John Alden. 
 
 " Here 's some Injuns in this panel," indicating 
 the fourth and last. "This is the First Treaty, 
 an' Massasoit is there among 'em, I expect, be-
 
 266 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 cause he was the Injun they made the treaty with. 
 An* 't was made over on Watson's Hill. I '11 show 
 you the place by-m-by. An' there 's Myles Stand- 
 ish again. He's in the Landing too. He's 
 everywhere." 
 
 Then they walked over to Burial Hill and sat 
 down upon a seat. And Phil asked who were this 
 Suzette and Dick to whom Teddy had referred so 
 often. And Teddy tried to tell that they were 
 just the nicest and best boy and girl he ever saw. 
 But he found it difficult to give adequate expres- 
 sion to his feeling about them. 
 
 "Swell ?" suggested Phil. 
 
 " No," replied Ted.Hy promptly ; " not a bit. 
 Dick is just such a boy as you and I 'd like to 
 be, Phil." 
 
 Phil did n't resent the implication that he was 
 n't up to Teddy's standard. But he shook his 
 head doubtfully. 
 
 Luckily, at that instant, Dick was seen coming 
 down the path leading beside the seat where they 
 sat. He was alone, for Suzette, as we know, was 
 entertaining Maggie Mather and Nora O'Reilly. 
 
 " Halloo, Teddy ! " he said, and stopped, looking 
 inquiringly at Phil. 
 
 Teddy introduced the latter.
 
 THE CHILDREN'S EXCURSION. 267 
 
 "This is the newsboy I saw in Boston, you 
 know. His name is Phil Phil Wildsmith." 
 
 " So you are the fellow that called Teddy ' cu- 
 cumbers,' are you, and would n't show him the 
 way ? " asked Dick ; and Phil actually blushed. 
 
 "Well, I couldn't help it," he replied apologet- 
 ically, " he did look so awful green." And then 
 all three boys laughed, and Dick sat down on the 
 seat. " He 's a first-rate chap though," added 
 Phil, regarding Teddy in friendly fashion. 
 
 Then the two questioned Phil about his life, 
 where he stayed nights, how much money he 
 earned, and so on. It was a deeply interesting 
 story but has no place here. After Dick had 
 left, Phil said, " He 's a good feller. But what 's 
 the use of a boy like me tryin' to be like the likes 
 o' him ? " 
 
 After which Teddy took him down to the little 
 gray house and introduced him to little Bess, and 
 he could not have done more than that to show his 
 good-will to the President of the land.
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 THE EQUINOCTIAL. 
 
 the tired ploughman, dry and warm, 
 
 Hears, half asleep, the rising storm 
 
 Hurling the hail and sleeted rain 
 
 Against the casement's tinkling pane; 
 
 The sounds that drive wild deer and fox 
 
 To shelter in the brake and rocks. Scott. 
 
 Often I think of the beautiful town 
 
 That is seated by the sea; 
 Often in thought go up and down 
 The pleasant streets of that dear old town, 
 
 And my youth comes back to me. Longfellow. 
 
 T~VICK had not been present to hear the story 
 "-^ of the little grandmother's ride, but Suzette 
 had told it to him at the earliest opportunity, and 
 they cherished the hope of going over the road 
 with uncle Tom some day. They had been over 
 it many times, of course, but that was before they 
 had heard this interesting story. 
 
 The day came and the morning. It was in late 
 September. It was a fair morning with a hint of 
 foulness in the fairness. So said an old farmer 
 
 268
 
 THE EQUINOCTIAL, 269 
 
 with whom uncle Tom stopped to talk over the 
 fence concerning the crops and certain fat poultry 
 that he was holding in reserve for the doctor. 
 The equinoctial, which was due about the twen- 
 tieth, he said, had n't got along yet, and when it 
 did come well, well ! he 'd seen some pretty 
 severe equinoctials in his day, and when they 
 came late you 'd got to look out. 
 
 As well as they could, with uncle Tom's assist- 
 ance, the two measured distances and located the 
 incidents of the famous ride which, to them, for 
 the time being at least, was of greater importance 
 than that famous one from Ghent to Aix, or even 
 Sheridan's wild gallop down the Shenandoah 
 Valley. 
 
 This was where Jack came up ; here was where 
 Molly jumped off to tighten the straps ; there was 
 the thicket, the very thicket from out which the 
 highwayman leaped. 
 
 "It looks as though there might be one in 
 there now," said Suzette, riding up to it and peer- 
 ing in, almost hoping that she might meet the 
 gaze of a pair of daring eyes ; it would be so inter- 
 esting, especially with uncle Tom and Dick com- 
 fortably in the background. 
 
 Uncle Tom would not spoil her fancies by
 
 270 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 the suggestion that eighty years, more or less, 
 having elapsed since that memorable epoch, the 
 forest must have changed. Every tree of it had 
 been cut, doubtless, after our prodigal American 
 fashion, and all this was a fresh growth. But 
 did n't everything change in eighty years ? Do 
 not we ourselves go through an entire change of 
 tissues every seven years, and are we not the 
 same ? Some people are so anxious for the exact 
 facts they let the truth slip. Don't spoil the 
 child's pleasure with your so-called science. 
 Changed though it be, this is the forest of little 
 Molly's day through which she rode so gallantly 
 on a fine October morning nearly a hundred years 
 ago. Thus spake uncle Tom to himself, and he 
 gave heed to his own words and kept silent. 
 
 It was a charming morning and a charming 
 ride, and would have been prolonged indefinitely 
 had not uncle Tom come for the purpose of visit- 
 ing patients who could not be put off. 
 
 But they Dick and Suzette would go on 
 still further into the forest beyond. And if they 
 did not get back by the time uncle Tom was ready 
 to return, he must not wait nor be disturbed by 
 their non-appearance. They had a lunch in their 
 luncheon-case ; it was a fine day, and if the equi-
 
 THE EQUINOCTIAL. 2J\ 
 
 noctial was indeed brewing, as the old farmer had 
 said, it might last a week and shut them in, and 
 they would make the most of this fine day ; and 
 uncle Tom assented. So good-by, good-by ! they 
 said. And as he saw them disappear into the 
 wood he thought, as he had fifty times before, that 
 there never was a finer pair, or, in the words of 
 Jason, "They could n't be beat." 
 
 The pleasures of a ride through a forest are not 
 to be adequately drawn with pen and ink. You 
 who have been there know all about it. You who 
 have not can get but a faint idea, from anything I 
 may write, of the beauty and freshness, the tender 
 gloom, the glancing light, the gentle rustlings ; of 
 its airy palaces, its birds, its chattering chip- 
 munks, its shy squirrels looking down upon you 
 at one moment, the next off through their aerial 
 highways ; its rabbits, that sit up beside the path 
 with alert ears, and look at you ; and, as in this 
 case, its deer, beautiful with a wild grace, lifting 
 their heads high above the underbrush at the 
 sound of your horse's step. 
 
 The two made excursions from the highway into 
 the narrow, winding pathways that thread this 
 forest like network. There seemed but little, if 
 any, danger of getting lost, for they were accus-
 
 2/2 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 tomed to judge of directions by the sun and other 
 signs. But when the sun became suddenly ob- 
 scured, as it did towards the middle of the after- 
 noon, by the coming on of what is locally known 
 as a "sea-turn," and the fog settled down and tool: 
 possession of the land, so that even six feet away 
 the trees were but ghostly shadows of themselves, 
 then, for the first time, the possibility of going 
 astray dawned upon them. 
 
 The fog came down upon them, unfortunately, 
 while they were exploring one of the sylvan by- 
 ways, and they were utterly at a loss what course 
 to take to find the highway. The fog soon turned 
 into a dense drizzle. Night seemed to come on 
 prematurely and, after riding hither and thither, 
 seeking vainly the way of escape, and at last con- 
 cluding, by unmistakable signs, that they had only 
 made a circuit and had come back to a point they 
 had started from a half-hour before, they came to 
 a standstill, looked at each other, and said : 
 
 "What shall we do?" 
 
 "And what will Mehitable say? She always 
 said we should get lost sometime." 
 
 And then they laughed. 
 
 " We might as well give Castor and Pollux their 
 heads and let them go as they like," said Dick.
 
 THE EQUINOCTIAL. 273 
 
 " Perhaps they '11 know the way. It 's as bad as a 
 blizzard almost." 
 
 " It 's like a maze," replied Suzette. " You go 
 round and round and can't get out. I don't mind 
 it much. Only when we do get out it will be so 
 late, and uncle Tom and aunt Pen will be troubled 
 about us, I 'm afraid. What time is it, Dick ? " 
 
 Dick looked at his watch. 
 
 " It 's five o'clock. We could n't get back any 
 way till after sunset, and it '11 be dark early to- 
 night. Yes, Sue, we '11 let Castor and Pollux go 
 where they like and trust them to get us out of 
 this." 
 
 They let the reins lie loosely upon the horses' 
 necks, said " Go on ! " and Castor and Pollux 
 deliberately turned round and started back the 
 way they had just come. By what sign they 
 knew that in fifteen minutes they would come to 
 a curious little hut in the wood, half woodman's 
 cabin, half Indian wigwam, it is impossible to say. 
 Was it instinct or was it knowledge derived from 
 experience ? Certainly not the latter, for they had 
 no more acquaintance with Plymouth woods than 
 had their riders. 
 
 But whatever it was it proved to be a sure 
 guide, and after a slow trot of just about fifteen
 
 274 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 minutes they came out into an open glade shut in 
 by tall trees, but out of which the underbrush had 
 been carefully cleared. On the edge of this open- 
 ing nestled, like a huge sparrow's nest, this non- 
 descript hut. 
 
 They rode up to the door, which was open. 
 
 " Is it the bears' house ? " asked Suzette glee- 
 fully. " Shall we go in ? " 
 
 Dick leaped from his horse and looked in. 
 
 " There 's a chair," he said. " I suppose it 's a 
 chair and a table and a bed and a kettle. The 
 fire 's burning and the kettle is boiling. Whoever 
 lives here is n't a great way off. Something in the 
 kettle smells good. I guess it 's chowder." 
 
 " Oh, oh ! And are there chairs for the little 
 bears ? " asked Suzette. 
 
 " No, only one chair ! There 's only one bear." 
 
 " And there he comes ! " said Suzette, dropping 
 her voice. " Oh, will he growl ? " 
 
 As she spoke, out from the wood came a man 
 trampling down the underbrush as he walked. 
 He had an armful of wood and stopped abruptly 
 as he caught sight of the two. Dick lifted his 
 cap and spoke. 
 
 "We've lost our way in the fog," he said, 
 " Can you tell us the way to Plymouth ? "
 
 THE EQUINOCTIAL. 
 
 " Plymouth ! You 're a long way from Ply- 
 mouth," replied the man. His voice was pleasing 
 and his accent refined. As he spoke they saw 
 that he was a young man. He said no more, but 
 went in, put down the wood, fed the fire, lifted the 
 pot-cover and looked in. Then he came out. 
 
 " I can show you the way," he said, " but you 'd 
 better come in and get dry first." 
 
 "Oh, no, thanks!" Suzette hastened to say, 
 although secretly very desirous of looking into 
 the bear's house. " They '11 be anxious about us 
 at home. We 've been riding ever so long trying 
 to find the way. We ought to go as soon as 
 possible." 
 
 " But it 's a long way ; still if you '11 come in a 
 few moments, till my dinner is done, I'll show 
 you." 
 
 Suzette took this remark as an intimation that 
 the dinner might spoil if left, and hesitated no 
 longer. 
 
 She sprang from her horse and entered the 
 little hut the sparrow's nest the bear's house. 
 The interior was somewhat dim, as there was but 
 one small window, or opening, and that was par- 
 tially obscured by a scrambling woodbine. The 
 damp wood had dulled the fire, which soon blazed
 
 276 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 up, however, lighting up the cozy nest till it 
 glowed like the heart of a pink rose. 
 
 The hut was of rough logs with the bark on. 
 The furniture was as primitive as the hut and bore 
 marks of the axe. The scrambling woodbine had 
 found its way in and had caught on the rough bark 
 here and there, and hung in festoons, which moved 
 in the draughts quite like the arras in ancient 
 novels. A bed like a steamer berth was in one 
 corner. Near by where Suzette sat upon a rough 
 three-legged stool hung a book-shelf with books ; 
 und she observed, with a great access of curios- 
 ity, that the larger part of them were Greek and 
 Latin. On a small table something like an 
 overgrown stool lay a well-worn copy of Wai- 
 den. All these details were made distinctly visi- 
 ble by the ruddy glow of the fire. 
 
 While Suzette made these observations, Dick, 
 who had seated himself on a block of wood, was 
 looking at their host. He had taken off the 
 kettle cover and was extracting from it, with the 
 help of a wooden spoon and sharpened stick, a bit 
 of meat, some vegetables and broth, which he 
 presently offered to Suzette on a wooden plate, 
 placing it upon the little table at her side. 
 
 " Oh, how delightful ! " she exclaimed. " It 's
 
 THE EQUINOCTIAL. 277 
 
 like the Pilgrim trenchers little Humilitie Cooper 
 ate from ! " and then stopped abruptly, fearing lest 
 she had not been exactly courteous in her out- 
 burst. 
 
 But her entertainer smiled as he laid the 
 wooden spoon on her plate. " Yes, it is a little 
 like it," he said. 
 
 Moved to still further confidence by his kindli- 
 ness she ventured to say : " And your house, too, 
 is like a Pilgrim house, I should think, only 
 perhaps not so large." She tasted of the chow- 
 der, which proved to be a ragout of rabbit credit- 
 able to the culinary skill of their entertainer. 
 
 " Does n't it ever rain in ? " asked Dick, looking 
 up at the roof. 
 
 " No ; it 's well thatched," was the reply. Then 
 he went out and gave a handful of grass to 
 Castor and Pollux, and patted their noses as 
 though he loved horses. 
 
 Meanwhile Suzette, eating the ragout of rabbit 
 and nodding now and then to Dick, was dying 
 with curiosity. This was quite like visiting John 
 Alden before Priscilla came to live with him. 
 Who could this young man be ? He was n't one 
 of the wood-choppers, the only people who live 
 in Plymouth woods in this primitive fashion. his
 
 278 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 hands, brown but well-shaped, showed that. And 
 then wood-choppers do not commonly read Greek, 
 neither do they camp in such lovely forest glades. 
 They prefer to live on the edge of their particular 
 wood lot, where they can contemplate at their 
 leisure the ghastly stumps and general ruin they 
 have wrought. 
 
 Right in the centre of the open glade where 
 the sun must fall warmest during the day was a 
 small garden patch well cultivated. The beans in 
 the ragout doubtless were grown there. 
 
 Never was Suzette so tempted to break over all 
 laws of etiquette and ask their host who he was, 
 and how he happened to be living just here and 
 after this fashion. Lucky for them, however, that 
 he was, or they might have wandered all night in 
 the forest maze. 
 
 She finished the ragout, and after he had 
 washed the trencher and spoon he offered some 
 to Dick. It was evident from the limited supply of 
 trenchers that guests came seldom, if ever, to this 
 hermitage in the wilderness. 
 
 "How far is it to Plymouth village ?" asked 
 Dick, after he had eaten. 
 
 " About six miles," was the reply. " If I had a 
 horse I would go with you to the end of the woods,
 
 THE EQUINOCTIAL. 279 
 
 but as it is I can walk. There 's no doubt you'll 
 come out all right when you once get into the 
 road. And then you '11 get on faster without me." 
 
 It was a long tramp to the road, however, and 
 when they reached it their host turned the horses' 
 heads in the right direction. " There, you 've 
 nothing to do now but go straight ahead ; " and he 
 lifted his hat of shabby felt and disappeared before 
 they had a chance to thank him. 
 
 " Did you see the goat, Dick, tied close by the 
 path ? " asked Suzette. 
 
 "Yes; what jolly fun it must be!'* responded 
 Dick. 
 
 " Yes ; I made believe all the time that he was 
 John Alden before Priscilla came. If it were 
 only a little bigger 'twould be just like a Pilgrim 
 house. I 'm glad we got lost, Dick," said Suzette, 
 whose ugly ducks always turned out swans. " Oh, 
 what a thing it will be to tell little Bess ! " 
 
 They spoke but little after that, but rode on at 
 a rapid gallop. The fog was still dense, and they 
 could see but a few feet in advance. There was 
 no mistaking the wide, well-trodden road, however. 
 To ride rapidly in a dense fog is a very curious 
 sensation. Every step of solid ground is a con- 
 tinual surprise. Everything has so much the
 
 28O LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 appearance of being about to dissolve that you 
 expect every moment to make a final plunge into 
 a bottomless abyss. 
 
 At times where the woods were thick the dark- 
 ness was intense. Then all of a sudden the fog 
 would grow thin and luminous. Just before reach- 
 ing the end of the woods they heard a faint 
 " Hallo ! " They reined in their horses and 
 listened. Again it came, and this time in uncle 
 Tom's voice. Dick responded " Hallo ! " And 
 directly out from the fog in front of them came 
 Queen Ann bringing uncle Tom with Jason be- 
 side him. 
 
 " Well, v/ell ! " said uncle Tom joyfully. " Here 
 you are* at last. We 've shouted ourselves hoarse, 
 Jason and I. Come, get in here, pussy, out of the 
 rain and let Jason ride Pollux. No ? Well, come 
 on then. We must n't lose any time, for you 
 must be wet to the skin." 
 
 Before they reached home the rising storm of 
 wind was fast dispersing the mist, and that night 
 they did not stop to water Castor and Pollux at 
 the Pilgrim spring. 
 
 A great wood-fire was blazing in the parlor, and 
 in the kitchen Mehitable had ready a tea-kettle of 
 boiling water to pour over a mixture of ginger,
 
 THE EQUINOCTIAL. 281 
 
 molasses, and cream the moment she should hear 
 the tramp of the horses, and two bowls of scalding- 
 hot but delicious ginger tea were at once pre- 
 sented to the two wanderers, with the injunction 
 to swallow it instantly without stopping to take 
 breath. Mehitable, in her joy at their safe return, 
 so long anxiously awaited, forgot to say to Jason, 
 " I told you so." 
 
 After their damp clothing had been changed for 
 dry, and they were all comfortably seated around 
 the fire, Suzette on a hassock at uncle Tom's knee, 
 they told about the Robinson Crusoe hut they had 
 found. 
 
 " It must be young Ingersol," said uncle Tom. 
 " He 's gone into Plymouth woods somewhere to 
 spend his vacation. Came down from Cambridge 
 and gave out that he did n't want to see anybody. 
 He 's got a Thoreau bee in his bonnet. Is going 
 to see how little he can get on with. High time, 
 too, if all I hear is true. He 's been in Harvard 
 two years and has managed to use up twenty thou- 
 sand. He was born with a gold spoon in his 
 mouth and set with diamonds at that. It 's a pity 
 he could n't have a little genuine rough ing-it in- 
 stead of make-believe," said uncle Tom, who has 
 the English idea that it is good for boys and young
 
 282 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 men to go through a little tough and rough 
 fighting. 
 
 " He makes capital rabbit ragout," said Dick. 
 
 " Does he, now ! well, that 's something worth 
 hearing. I hope he burns his fingers now and 
 then cooking. It '11 do him good," said uncle 
 Tom, failing in sympathy with this modern hermit. 
 
 " Oh, but, uncle Tom, it was like a Pilgrim 
 house, with the dearest little wooden trencher to 
 eat off ! " Uncle Tom affectionately patted the 
 head at his knee. 
 
 But the equinoctial was destined to bring other 
 interests to uncle Tom's door. 
 
 At dawn the next morning the door-bell rang. 
 Uncle Tom, who had passed a somewhat restless 
 night and was up, answered it, and aunt Pen, who 
 had also not slept well, heard an exclamation, a 
 laugh, a hearty " How are you ? " and hastened 
 down to find two dear old friends whom they had 
 not seen for twenty for thirty for a hundred 
 years ! How long was it ? 
 
 "For just twenty," was the reply. 
 
 And how had they chanced to arrive at this 
 most unseasonable hour and by what convey- 
 ance had they come ? 
 
 "By a Cunarder. This is the back door to
 
 THE EQUINOCTIAL. 283 
 
 Boston, it seems. We awoke this morning off 
 Manomet ; drifted down in the fog, the captain 
 mistaking the lights," replied he whom uncle 
 Tom addressed as Ned. " Some good fellows 
 came off to offer help, and we availed ourselves 
 of the chance to be taken off." 
 
 Uncle Tom seemed like a happy boy that day, 
 Suzette thought, he was so overjoyed with this 
 unexpected arrival of an old and dear friend. 
 
 " Your last letter said nothing about your com- 
 ing so soon, Ned," he said. 
 
 " No, we had n't thought of it. But we are go- 
 ing to take the lease of an old country estate in 
 England in November, and Kate here wanted to 
 have a sight of the dear old places once more be- 
 fore settling down for a term of years ; and so, 
 behold us ! " 
 
 In the days that followed there were long talks, 
 especially in the evenings, when Suzette from her 
 station by uncle Tom's side listened to the advent- 
 ures of these two in foreign and distant lands. It 
 seemed to her they had been almost everywhere. 
 
 On one delightful evening the proposition was 
 made to uncle Tom of coming over with aunt Pen 
 when they Ned and Kate were fairly estab- 
 lished in their English home and making a long 
 visit.
 
 284 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 " How long is it since you were abroad, Tom ? " 
 asked Ned. 
 
 " Not since my college days," was the reply. 
 
 " It 's high time then, my dear fellow, you took a 
 vacation off. Nothing would please Kate and me 
 more than having you with us a year, eh, Kate ? " 
 and Kate smiled affectionately at aunt Pen. 
 
 " I 've been thinking a little about it," was uncle 
 Tom's reply. " Richard is talking of going over 
 another year. His wife is French, you know. 
 And he has been urging Pen and me to go." 
 
 This was the first intimation Suzette and Dick 
 had had of any such plan, and Suzette turned a 
 face of delighted inquiry on uncle Tom. 
 
 "Yes, and you, too, pussy, and Dick. Bless 
 me ! do you think you two could be left behind ? 
 We '11 follow the Mayflower back to its old home. 
 This is a little Pilgrim enthusiast," he said, turn- 
 ing back to Ned, who had successfully prosecuted 
 an acquaintance with Suzette in the intervals 
 when Doctor Tom's absence had left him to the 
 feminine portion of the family, and who replied 
 with a smile : 
 
 " Yes, I have learned that. And I promise to 
 show you the Pilgrim homes of England. You 
 shall see them to your heart's content, my little 
 Suzette."
 
 THE EQUINOCTIAL. 285 
 
 " And I, pussy, will go with you to Leyden and 
 their Holland homes," promised uncle Tom. After 
 that Suzette could only keep silent, feeling that 
 her cup of bliss, present and to come, was just 
 running over. 
 
 One day they went on the promised ride to the 
 old farm at Halifax, the life-long home of the little 
 grandmother, which had been almost as dear to 
 the boy Ned as to the boy Tom. The trip was 
 entirely satisfactory, with one rather important 
 exception. The old house was but little changed, 
 and there was still a crowd of outlying buildings, 
 though the cider-mill and the sheep-cotes had 
 vanished. But the disappearance of these, Suzette 
 would not have minded, if only the cat holes had 
 been left. But, alas ! the present owner had 
 closed them. To be sure the traces of them were 
 there. You could see there had been cat holes; 
 but the holes themselves had vanished not into 
 thin air but into solid painted pine. Why had he 
 closed them ? was asked. 
 
 " Because he was afraid other animals might 
 enter besides the cats." 
 
 " What animals ? " But he did not know ; he 
 had not got so far as to give definite shapes to his 
 fears.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 A LARK WITH UNCLE TOM. 
 
 Wild was the day; the wintry sea 
 
 Moaned sadly on New England's strand, 
 When first, the thoughtful and the free, 
 
 Our fathers trod the desert land. 
 
 Bryant. 
 
 TVJOTHING could have been further from 
 * ^ " wintry," or more unlike a " desert," 
 than was the aspect of sea and land upon that 
 morning in early October when uncle Tom at last 
 got off for the long-promised lark an all day's 
 sail around the bay in the track of the Mayflower, 
 and in his own small yacht, the Seagull. 
 
 He had tried for this many times during the 
 summer, but always somebody had been taken ill 
 at the last moment, "jest out o' spite," said Me- 
 hitable. Once, even, they had pushed off, and in 
 five minutes would have been too far away for a 
 recall, when a man was seen running down the 
 wharf, waving his hat and shouting. It was the 
 grandson of " old Mis' Keziah Holmes up to 
 
 386
 
 A LARK WITH UNCLE TOM. 287 
 
 Manimet." It was on this occasion^ that Suzette 
 remarked to Dick, as they walked disconsolately 
 back to the house, " Whatever else we may be, 
 Dick, don't let 's be doctors." 
 
 Dick and Suzette had been out in a boat many 
 times during the summer and had found it as 
 exhilarating as riding something like it, in fact, 
 but with this difference, that, in the former case, 
 they rode upon the back of the waves. Their 
 sails, however, had been brief and limited to the 
 harbor. 
 
 But to-day a large hamper of provisions was in 
 the cabin, and both Jason and Teddy were with 
 them. They had asked that Teddy might go, and 
 uncle Tom had engaged him to help with the 
 yacht, for he was a capital boatman. 
 
 The breeze was steady and off-shore, and the 
 Seagull, spreading her white wings, skimmed over 
 the water as gracefully, if not quite as swiftly, as 
 did her namesake through the blue air above. 
 
 They sailed out to the fishing-grounds and an- 
 chored. When Bartholomew Gosnold, who gave 
 to the promontory and bay the name of Cape 
 Cod, was here, in 1602, the codfish were so plenty 
 that he "pestered" his vessel with them. But 
 that was not the case upon this day of which I
 
 288 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 write, though they rose obedient enough to the 
 hook, and a sufficient number were soon caught 
 for the chowder which Jason who was as good a 
 hand at the making as Mehitable was to cook 
 for their dinner over the little sea-stove in the 
 cabin. 
 
 Then up sail and away again ! down near the 
 Pilgrims' Cummaquid (Barnstable) and within sight 
 of Nauset, the place of "The First Encounter" and 
 the sojourn of John Billington, hovering for a little 
 time off Provincetown, and full of speculations as 
 to what little Humilitie Cooper and John Billing- 
 ton and Mary Allerton had thought about it all, 
 and trying to picture how it must have looked in 
 that wintry weather of 1620, with tall trees where 
 the sand is now, and the hostile Indians peeping 
 from behind them. Uncle Tom, as he endeavored 
 to answer all the questions propounded by the 
 two, and to sympathize with all their suppositions, 
 declared he felt as a " Notes and Queries col- 
 umn " might. Teddy had a new and interesting 
 lesson in history, though he did not know it 
 under that name. 
 
 From the spires of Provincetown they sailed 
 straight back across the bay, dining by the way 
 with great appetites, and made their first landing
 
 A LARK WITH UNCLE TOM. 289 
 
 at the Gurnet to look at the lights and walk 
 about. 
 
 This name, Gurnet, came originally from the 
 gurnet fish, which abound off the coast of Devon- 
 shire, England, where are many headlands so 
 called. And it was from one of these, probably, 
 that the Pilgrims named this headland of New 
 England. 
 
 But there is a much earlier historical interest 
 attaching to this spot. Thorwald, the brother of 
 Leif, and son of Eric the Red, those bold and 
 hardy Northmen who explored the coast of New 
 England about the year 1000, and the story of 
 whose exploits is preserved in the Icelandic Sagas 
 Thorwald, in the spring of 1004, proceeding 
 northward after spending the winter at Vinland, 
 near Mount Hope Bay, was driven by a gale on 
 the shore of Cape Cod. After repairing his dis- 
 abled vessel he sailed directly west and came to a 
 promontory the loveliness of which so charmed 
 him, says the Saga, that he said to his compan- 
 ions : " This is a beautiful spot, and here I should 
 like to fix my dwelling." This spot was the 
 Gurnet. 
 
 The admiration of Thorwald may seem exag- 
 gerated to us, as it did to Suzette, when we see
 
 290 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 the Gurnet of to-day, for in itself it is a somewhat 
 barren spot, being destitute of trees, though the 
 soil is deep and rich. But it has the never-failing 
 charm of the neighborhood of the sea, and at the 
 time that Thorwald visited it, as uncle Tom 
 reminded Suzette, it was probably covered with 
 trees and shrubs the oak and walnut and sweet- 
 smelling juniper as were the beach and Clark's 
 Island. Then, too, we must remember that 
 Thorwald came from Greenland. And though the 
 climate of Greenland was many degrees milder 
 then than now, yet so was that of New England, 
 and, lying so much farther south, it must have had 
 an almost tropical beauty in Thorwald's eyes and 
 seemed a very paradise to him. 
 
 At any rate, as the Saga says, he found this 
 headland a most entrancing spot, and when, 
 shortly after, he was mortally wounded by a 
 poisoned arrow shot by an Indian, he asked to 
 be carried back there and buried "where I 
 thought it good to dwell. It may be it was a 
 prophetic word which fell from my mouth about 
 abiding there for a season. There shall ye bury 
 me, and place a cross at my head and another at 
 my feet, and call that place forevermore Krossa- 
 ness " (Cross Cape).
 
 A LARK WITH UNCLE TOM. 29 1 
 
 And so, after he died, it was done as he had 
 said. There is a headland in the neighborhood 
 of Boston that claims to be Krossa-ness, but no 
 descendant of the Pilgrims ever admits that 
 claim for an instant, aunt Pen told Suzette when 
 relating to her this beautiful legend. The true. 
 Krossa-ness is the Gurnet. And, perched upon 
 the highest part of the bluff, Suzette and Dick 
 had a vision that day of a vessel, strange in shape, 
 and manned by blue-eyed, fair-haired sea kings, 
 who "never sought shelter under a roof, or 
 drained their drinking horn by a cottage fire," 
 but who without fear sailed their ships, destitute 
 of chart or compass, steering by the sun by day 
 and the stars by night, and when, by reason of 
 cloud or fog, these failed them, trusting only to 
 chance. 
 
 By six hundred years the arrival of that strange 
 bark had preceded that of the Mayflower. And 
 at this thought Suzette began to regard the com- 
 ing of the Pilgrims as a very recent event indeed. 
 
 But it soon retook its former place in her mind, 
 as they again embarked and sailed slowly along by 
 the cove which lies between the Gurnet and 
 Saquish, wherein the exploring shallop came so 
 near being wrecked in the night and storm of
 
 292 
 
 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 1620. Her mast was broken in three pieces, 
 and it was with great difficulty that she escaped 
 and came to anchor close under the shelter of 
 what is now Clark's Island. The Pilgrims did 
 not know it was an island, however, until the 
 coming of dawn revealed it to them, and all 
 night were in great dread of Indians, for their 
 firearms were so drenched with water as to be 
 useless. But when morning came, they found no 
 Indians, and nothing more 
 inhospitable than snow and 
 ice. It was Saturday, and 
 they passed the day in 
 mending their shallop and 
 cleaning their firearms. 
 The next day being the 
 Sabbath, they "rested." 
 
 The story of this peril- 
 ous night is told so charmingly by Governor 
 Bradford in his History, in such pure and simple 
 English, that it can not be repeated too often. 
 
 After "The First Encounter," they took boat 
 and coasted along the shores of Cape Cod, but 
 without finding any suitable harbor wherein to cast 
 anchor and go on shore. At last the pilot, who 
 had been in the country before, told them of a
 
 A LARK WITH UNCLE TOM. 293 
 
 place not far away where there was an excellent 
 harbor, and he accordingly turned the boat in that 
 direction. 
 
 "After some hours' sailing, it began to snow and 
 rain, and about the middle of the afternoon the 
 wind increased and the sea became very rough 
 and they broke their rudder and it was as much as 
 two men could do to steer her with a couple of 
 oars. 
 
 "But their pilot bade them be of good cheer, 
 for he saw the harbor ; but the storm increasing 
 and night drawing on, they bore what sail they 
 could to get in while they could see. But here- 
 with they broke their mast in three pieces and 
 their sails fell overboard in a very grown sea, so 
 as they had like to have been cast away ; yet by 
 God's mercy they recovered themselves and having 
 the flood with them struck into the harbor. 
 
 " But when it came to, the pilot was de- 
 ceived in the place, and said, the Lord be merciful 
 unto them, for his eyes never saw the place 
 before, and he and the master mate would have 
 run her ashore in a cove full of breakers before 
 the wind. But a lusty seaman who steered, bade 
 those who rowed if they were men, about with 
 her, or else they were all cast away ; the which 
 they did with speed.
 
 294 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 "So he bade them be of good cheer and row 
 lustily, for there was a fair sound before them and 
 he doubted not but they should find one place or 
 other where they might ride in safety. And 
 though it was very dark and rained sore, yet in 
 the end they got under the lee of a small island 
 and remained there all the night in safety. 
 
 "But they knew not this to be an island till 
 morning, but were divided in their minds ; some 
 would keep the boat for fear they might be among 
 Indians ; others were so weak and cold they could 
 not endure, but got ashore, and with much ado got 
 fire (all things being so wet) and the rest were 
 glad to come to them ; for after midnight the 
 wind shifted to the north-west and it froze hard. 
 
 " But though this had been a day and night of 
 much trouble and danger unto them, yet God 
 gave them a morning of comfort and refreshing (as 
 usually he doth to his children), for the next day 
 was a fair sunshiny day, and they found them 
 selves to be on an island secure from the Indians, 
 where they might dry their stuff, fix their pieces 
 and rest themselves, and gave God thanks for his 
 mercies in their manifold deliverances , and this 
 being the last day of the week they prepared there 
 to keep the Sabbath."
 
 A LARK WITH UNCLE TOM. 
 
 295 
 
 At first they thought of settling there, and 
 looking no further. The security of the place 
 pleased them. It was far away from Indians. 
 But, on the other hand, there were no springs or 
 running streams such as they afterward found in 
 Plymouth, and they feared a scarcity of water in 
 
 time of drought. Then, too, there were no cleared 
 spaces in which to plant corn. The island was 
 covered with a forest of red cedars and it would 
 take a long time to render even a small part of 
 it fit for planting. So, on the whole, they 
 thought it best to look further. The island was 
 afterwards named for the mate of the Mayflower, 
 who was with them, which name it retains to this 
 day.
 
 296 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 As the Seagull rounded Saquish Point, the 
 small island lay just before them, no longer woody, 
 but smooth and round and full-fleeced as the sheep 
 that were feeding upon its fat pastures. It is a 
 gem of an island, green in summer as an emerald. 
 
 The Seagull dropped her sails beside a small 
 pier, and they landed and went further into the 
 island to see a great rock upon which is cut this 
 legend : Here wee rested. This is called Pulpit 
 Rock. 
 
 " And did the Pilgrims hold their services that 
 Sunday here by this rock ? " asked Suzette. 
 
 " It is not probable," replied uncle Tom. " The 
 probability is they held them on the shore in the 
 neighborhood of their boat, perhaps in the boat." 
 
 "And they sang? " 
 
 " Oh, yes, they sang," said uncle Tom. " The 
 One Hundredth Psalm, doubtless, Luther's psalm. 
 It was quaintly paraphrased, of course, after the 
 fashion of the time, and they sang the air which 
 we know as Old Hundred." 
 
 Amidst the storm they sang: 
 
 And the stars heard and the sea ; 
 And the sounding aisles of the dim woods rang 
 
 To the anthem of the free.
 
 A LARK WITH UNCLE TOM. 
 
 That poem of Mrs. Hemans, the most perfect 
 poem that has yet been penned upon our Pilgrim 
 Fathers, had always been a great favorite with 
 Dick and Suzette, and she repeated the four lines 
 with animation while uncle Tom nodded approval. 
 
 They strolled through the paths of the leafy 
 grove, sole representative of the lost forest of 
 cedars with its " sounding aisles," and sat for a 
 short time under its shade. 
 
 " I hate to go away, it is such a lovely place," 
 said Suzette. 
 
 " Life is punctuated with pleasant stops like 
 this," replied uncle Tom; "but we always have 
 to move on." 
 
 Then they took boat again, and spreading her 
 white wings to the utmost, the Seagull flew over 
 the bay to Captain's Hill. 
 
 They did not land at the pier at Captain's Hill, 
 but skirted along the shore. Here innumerable 
 seals were playing, bobbing their round, black 
 heads out of the water like so many boys. It was 
 high tide, and they sailed a little way up Jones 
 River. It was just after sailing out from the 
 mouth of that river that they discovered that a 
 baby seal was following them, barking at intervals 
 like a little dog. It reached the yacht and tried
 
 298 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 to clamber in in awkward fashion. It had a 
 most beseeching, winning look in its brown eyes, 
 and Suzette begged, "Do take it in, uncle Tom." 
 
 And uncle Tom lending a hand, the small creat- 
 ure tumbled in and waddled along to Suzette's 
 feet, and seemed greatly pleased when she patted 
 its damp head. 
 
 " I wonder where the mother can be," said 
 uncle Tom. " I hope she has n't deserted it." 
 
 " Oh, if she has, uncle Tom, we can take it for 
 a pet ! It 's too big for the aquarium, but it 's a 
 dear little thing ; " and Suzette patted its head 
 again, and thereupon it tried to scramble up into 
 her lap. It was not large for a seal perhaps 
 two feet long but it was a huge lapful. 
 
 " You 'd find it a difficult pet to care for," re- 
 plied uncle Tom. " One of the boys brought one 
 in one day. It followed his boat just as this one 
 has done, and he took it in and brought it home, 
 and tried to feed it with milk from a bottle. But 
 it ate but little. It used to follow him about the 
 shore, and cried like a baby. He kept it in a boat 
 house, and used to put it in the water and try to 
 make it swim off in search of its mother. But it 
 would n't. It liked to be held in arms like a baby, 
 too. But after a little it died."
 
 A LARK WITH UNCLE TOM. 299 
 
 " I do hope the mother will come for this one, 
 then," said Suzette. 
 
 And presently they saw her swimming rapidly 
 behind them, and when she came alongside the 
 Seagull uncle Tom lifted up the baby and 
 dropped it beside her. She clasped it tightly 
 with her flippers, though the little creature 
 struggled to get away, and cried out after the 
 yacht. 
 
 It was sunset when at last the Seagull drew 
 near Long Wharf and dropped her sails. The 
 sky was flushed with the rosy pink of the after- 
 glow, in which innumerable little clouds were 
 floating like a fleet of golden argosies. This 
 beautiful tint was reflected in the water, so that 
 the yacht seemed to float between two seas of 
 color, the one transparent and fixed, the other 
 flowing and opaque. 
 
 Over the last Suzette was leaning, wondering at 
 the depth of color, and if it were rosy pink clear 
 through and through to the muddy bottom 
 when somehow, nobody knew just how, she lost 
 her balance and plunged headlong, and the tran- 
 quil water t^roke into numberless ripples like 
 scattered rose petals as it closed over her. 
 
 Teddy was after her in an instant, and Dick
 
 3OO LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 would have followed had not uncle Tom seized 
 him and held him fast while both he and Jason 
 stood with their eyes fixed upon the spot where 
 the two had gone down, ready to help them when 
 they should come up. In a brief instant, although 
 it seemed like an age to the three watchers, Su- 
 zette's head appeared above the water. With a 
 motion like that of a spaniel, she shook the salt 
 sea-drops from her eyes, and, catching sight of 
 the eager, anxious faces in the yacht, called 
 cheerfully as she struck boldly out, " Just see 
 me swim, uncle Tom ! It 's splendid ! " And, as 
 she seized the outstretched hands and half-climbed 
 and was half-lifted on board, she added, " There 
 are barnacles on the bottom of the Seagull, uncle 
 Tom. I saw them as I went down." 
 
 " Oh, you careless, cool, good-for-naught girlie ! " 
 said uncle Tom. " Don't dare to tell me you did 
 it on purpose, or I shall shake you." And he 
 reached out a helping hand to Teddy, who had 
 followed directly in Suzette's wake, but who, dis- 
 daining the proffered help, climbed lightly on 
 board, and likewise shook himself like a spaniel. 
 
 "That's just what I need," replied Suzette, 
 looking down at the little streams of water which 
 were running off her at every point upon the deck.
 
 A LARK WITH UNCLE TOM. 30! 
 
 " I ought to be shaken or wrung out ; " and she 
 gave a twist here and a squeeze there. 
 
 " Well, we must get you to the house as quickly 
 as possible," said uncle Tom, " or you '11 have a 
 chill, you and Teddy. Here, Jake, lend a hand ! " 
 he called out to a man on the wharf, and the Sea- 
 gull was quickly pulled alongside. 
 
 But Teddy declined to go up to the house with 
 the others, though Dick said, " You can have a 
 suit of my clothes to put on, Teddy." He would 
 go directly home, he said. He knew, and he re- 
 flected ruefully on the fact, as he walked dripping 
 away, that he would have to go to bed at once, for 
 he had no other clothes than those he wore. He 
 knew, too, that Mrs. White would scold him 
 roundly. She always scolded him, whatever 
 happened. He was the scapegoat who bore the 
 sins of the whole family. If it rained, if Sally let 
 the fire go out, or Mary broke a dish, or Mrs. 
 White had a quarrel with a neighbor, somehow 
 she always contrived to make Teddy responsible 
 for it all, and scolded him. Sometimes he felt 
 badly, but generally he did not care. Much 
 scolding had hardened him. 
 
 But the thing he did regret was that he could 
 not go and tell little Bess that night all about the
 
 3O2 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 day's pleasure, as he had intended to do. He 
 wanted to tell her how he had seen the place 
 where John Billington stayed with the Indians, 
 and the spot where the Pilgrim women had their 
 first New England washing-day. He wanted to 
 tell her, too, about Clark's Island, where he had 
 been many times before, but never until that day 
 had known its story. And about the baby seal. 
 But most of all did he desire to tell her about the 
 blue-eyed, fair-haired sea kings. They lived in 
 Norway, it seems, and Teddy knew where Nor- 
 way was on the map. They were called Vikings, 
 so Doctor Tom said. A few years before, a great 
 ship had been found in Norway buried in a 
 mound where it had been hidden for one thousand 
 years. This was the ship of one of these Vi- 
 kings ; and when he died he was laid in the ship, 
 and the two had been buried together. 
 
 What capital stories Doctor Tom could tell ! 
 There was the one about the Chinese clucks : how 
 they lived with their owners in the same boat, and 
 how they foraged all day along the river banks, 
 and, when they were called at night, each came 
 hurrying and scurrying, trying not to be the last 
 one, because the last one was always whipped. 
 And that story about the little German hen ! that 
 would just suit little Bess !
 
 A LARK WITH UNCLE TOM. 303 
 
 Well, he was glad he hopped overboard, any 
 way. He would do it every time for Suzette, or 
 Dick either. So he only just looked in at the 
 honeysuckle-shaded window to say he could n't 
 come that night, but would be there bright and 
 early the next morning.
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 THE DEPARTURE OF A LITTLE PILGRIM. 
 
 Dreams cannot picture a world so fair; 
 Sorrow and pain may not enter there. 
 
 Felicia Hemans. 
 
 Day after day we think what she is doing, 
 In those bright realms of air. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 r I THE aquarium, allusion to which has been 
 * made in a previous chapter in connection 
 with the baby seal, was no new thing. It had 
 been started shortly after the arrival of the two 
 in Old Pilgrim Town. 
 
 It was a big glass dish, kept full of sea-water, 
 which stood upon a round table in the hall. The 
 water had to be changed daily, and was brought 
 by Dick early each morning from the dock. 
 There was a good deal of slopping about ; and if 
 aunt Pen had not been, as I have before intimated, 
 a model aunt, there would have been no end of 
 fussing. Though, after all, the true head and 
 autocrat of the house was not aunt Penelope, but
 
 DEPARTURE OF A LITTLE PILGRIM. 305 
 
 Mehitable, who ruled over and coddled them all in 
 the most delightful and peremptory manner. 
 
 But, though Mehitable could not understand 
 what pleasure there could be in keeping "them 
 nasty snails round," which were "alwa's a-droppin' 
 on t' th' floor and a-gettin' under foot," she made 
 no serious objection to them, and wiped up the 
 slops with the utmost amiability. 
 
 The inhabitants of the aquarium, however, were 
 not limited to snails, though these far outnum- 
 bered the others, and were, on the whole, the most 
 interesting. They were extraordinarily lively for 
 snails ; that is, lively when compared with the 
 popular notion concerning them. They liked to 
 crawl up to the edge of the dish and drop upon 
 the table, and thence to the floor, falling with a 
 dull thud. Around a bit of board, laid upon the 
 table for that purpose, they promenaded by the 
 hour. 
 
 But they were liveliest at night, when the gas 
 jet was lighted just above them. It was then that 
 they sang, softly and musically, like crickets. 
 They were of all sizes, and Suzette, after a while, 
 learned to distinguish one from another for even 
 a snail has individuality. The little ones grew 
 and thrived upon the green seaweed which was
 
 306 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 gathered freshly for them each day. But one 
 huge patriarch, the object of Mehitable's special 
 disgust, whose ambition seemed to be to tumble 
 on the floor as many times as possible during 
 the twenty-four hours, and who was found one 
 day half-way up the fine old carved staircase, was 
 discovered one morning lying dead by the side of 
 the table. His loss was greatly lamented, and his 
 body was scooped out, ' and his shell laid by to 
 be taken to the Waterman ranch with other 
 souvenirs of the summer. 
 
 The star-fish, too, died. But the barnacles lived 
 on, nestled among the smooth, round pebbles at 
 the bottom of the dish, and giving no other sign 
 of life than the gentle, continuous opening of 
 their mouths (?). 
 
 A tumbler of snails had also been taken to little 
 Bess, the watching of which gave her an infinite 
 deal of pleasure. 
 
 Little Bess's acquaintance with birds, beasts, 
 fish, and such-like inhabitants of our world was 
 limited, but those she did know she knew well. 
 The English sparrows that lived in the honey- 
 suckle all winter ; the crimson-throated humming- 
 bird that came every summer to feed on its blos- 
 soms ; the occasional butterflies that fluttered in
 
 DEPARTURE OF A LITTLE PILGRIM. 307 
 
 and out her window ; the caterpillars that crawled 
 in ; the spider in the corner of the ceiling, which 
 her mother had spared at her earnest desire ; a 
 toad which had its habitat under the threshold, 
 and sometimes hopped in in search of flies ; the 
 booming bumble-bee ; the mud-wasps that built 
 under the eaves of the small gray house, and the 
 ants that ran to and fro over the window-seat, 
 of all these she knew much concerning their 
 ways. 
 
 On the afternoon of the day following the lark, 
 when Suzette went in to tell her all about it, she 
 found her excited and eager over a fresh exploit of 
 the ants. Somehow, by the closing of the window, 
 one of their number had been killed and pressed 
 into a minute crevice, and all day long a relay 
 of ants had been at work trying to get it out. 
 They had finally succeeded, and carried it off 
 triumphantly. 
 
 " And, oh ! I did want to know what they would 
 do with it, an' so I asked Mr. Lincoln he was 
 goin' by, an' he 's our minister, you know, an' just 
 as good t' me! an' so he stopped an' watched, 
 an' he said they buried it. Wasrit it funny?" 
 
 Suzette had told her before about the ants' cows, 
 and shown her the little green things on the rose-
 
 308 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 leaves, and also about the ants of Colorado which 
 make honey and store it, not in honeycomb as the 
 bees do, but in the bodies of some of their num- 
 ber. Also about the mound-building ants of the 
 Western plains, which roof their mounds with bits 
 of coal or white pebbles, with gold-dust even, and 
 lovely gems just what the soil about them hap- 
 pens to contain ; and to these stories little Bess 
 never wearied of listening. They were real fairy 
 stories of the real fairyland of science. 
 
 "Oh, isn't this a nice world!" she would say 
 after one of these talks about the birds and insects 
 of Colorado and its flowers. " An' the big moun- 
 tains way up to the sky, and all white with snow 
 at the top ! An' that one with the white cross on 
 it ! Oh ! do you think there can be any world 
 nicer than this one ? There 's lots of 'em. I see 
 a big one every night. It shines right into my 
 window, an' twinkles an' twinkles." 
 
 But on this day she talked in a way Suzette had 
 never heard her do before. 
 
 " Oh, it 's all so nice ! " she said in her favorite 
 phrase, when Suzette had told her about the 
 Krossa-ness. " But Doctor Tom says it '11 be ever 
 so much nicer there, an' happier. I don't see how 
 it can be happier, though of course Doctor Tom
 
 DEPARTURE OF A LITTLE PILGRIM. 309 
 
 knows. But it'll be nicer b'cause all the folks 
 can run around there, an' nobody '11 be sick any 
 more, an p'raps they '11 fly. I asked Doctor Tom 
 once if they 'd fly, because that 's what the cater- 
 pillars do after they 've be'n to sleep an' woke up, 
 an' he said he thought they would. Oh, I should 
 like to fly just like a bird does ! " 
 
 She looked so bright and bird-like when she said 
 this, and gave such a wing-like lift with her small 
 hands, that, " I declare, Dick," said Suzette, when 
 she told him about it afterwards, for, as we have 
 seen, Suzette always told Dick everything, "I 
 thought she was going to fly right straight out of 
 the window." 
 
 Suzette did not need to ask what place little Bess 
 meant by the "there." As she looked at her 
 she saw what she had never noticed before : that 
 her face had grown thinner and her eyes larger. 
 She was not any paler, perhaps not so pale, for 
 there was a pink spot like a wild-rose petal m 
 either wan cheek. 
 
 She looked very sweet and lovely ; so lovely 
 and sweet that somehow it made Suzette's heart 
 ache to look at her, and, to get rid of the unaccus- 
 tomed pain, she turned the conversation by asking, 
 " How is Squawleena ? "
 
 310 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 Squawleena so little Bess had told Suzette 
 upon her last visit was going through an attack 
 of scarlet fever, having only just recovered from 
 the measles, and the result of this untoward se- 
 quence was being anxiously awaited both by her 
 distracted parent and little Bess. 
 
 "We came very near losing Squawleena,'' she 
 said ; and as she turned from the contemplation of 
 the "there " to the distresses of her doll family, her 
 sunny smile gave place to the lugubrious look be- 
 fitting the subject. " Her mother would have old 
 Doctor Peters, an' he dosed an' dosed her with 
 quarts an' quarts, an' give her pills as big as tea- 
 cups, an' she was 'most dead. An' then I insisted 
 t' have Doctor Tom. An' he chirked her up right 
 off. She was quite purple b'fore he came, an' was 
 broke out in th' most awful manner. She '11 lose 
 her hair, Doctor Tom says " (it was made of stock- 
 ing ravelings), " an' p'r'aps be deaf. But he says 
 he hopes it '11 be a warnin' to her mother never 
 t' have old Doctor Peters again." 
 
 Old Doctor Peters, it may be needless to ex- 
 plain, was only a myth one of the many who 
 inhabited little Bess's make-believe world. 
 
 Dick and Teddy came in. 
 
 Teddy had already been in once that day. He
 
 DEPARTURE OF A LITTLE PILGRIM. 311 
 
 came early in the morning and told her, among 
 other things, the story of the little German hen. 
 The little hen lived a^s much as a hundred years 
 ago, Teddy thought, though he was not quite sure, 
 being rather lame on dates. And there was a 
 good man, a very good man, and some wicked 
 folks wanted to put him in prison. Why, Teddy 
 did not know. So the good man hid in a big gar- 
 ret, a very big garret it must have been, because 
 there were lots of other things besides a great big 
 pile of lumber in it. He hid, this good man, 
 under this pile of lumber, and when the wicked 
 men came to look for him, they could n't find 
 him. They never thought to look under the 
 lumber. 
 
 When they went away he was awful hungry, 
 and dry, too, Teddy said, and he had n't any water, 
 or a single thing to eat. But in the night it 
 snowed, and he got up, and put his hand out of 
 the window on the roof and got a handful of snow 
 for water. But he had n't a thing. to eat. 
 
 The next morning early, a little hen came into 
 the garret. How she got there, Teddy did n't 
 know ; through a window left open, p'r'aps, little 
 Bess suggested, but at any rate, up she came to 
 lay, and a funny place for a hen to lay it was, 
 Teddy thought, but the story was all true.
 
 312 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 Well, she laid an egg, she was a little white 
 hen and very pretty. and then she cackled, 
 rather soft, " cut-cut-cut-dah,cut ! cut-cut-cut-dah- 
 cut ! here-here-here-it is ! cut-cut-cut-dah-cut." 
 And when she had gone off, out of the window 
 or somewhere, the good man came out from under 
 the lumber, and took her little egg, and cracked 
 it, and ate it. 
 
 Every day she came and laid her egg ; and 
 every day the good man cracked the egg, and ate 
 it. And that was every single thing he had to eat 
 for a week that and the snow on the roof. 
 
 The folks who lived in the house were friends of 
 this good man, but they did n't know he was there. 
 And one day the man and his wife came up into 
 this garret and sat down and talked. And they 
 talked about this good man, how good he was, 
 and how the wicked men wanted to get him, and 
 they had looked everywhere for him, and could n't 
 find him, and so they had gone away out of the 
 town. And they wondered where this good man 
 could be hid so secret. 
 
 And then when he heard that, he just came right 
 out from the lumber, and scared the man and his 
 wife 'most to death, at first, Teddy said, till they 
 sec who it was. And he told them all about the
 
 DEPARTURE OF A LITTLE PILGRIM. 313 
 
 little white hen, and how she had laid an egg for 
 him every day. And the woman said she had 
 hunted and hunted for that little white hen's nest, 
 because she 'd heard her cackling every day some- 
 where. But she could n't ever find it, of course, 
 Teddy said, because there was n't any nest. 
 
 But, of course, the egg had n't been enough 
 for the good man, as much as he ought to have to 
 eat, and he was awful hungry and pale and thin, 
 and so they took him down and give him a good 
 square meal. 
 
 That was the story of the little German hen 
 as Teddy told it to little Bess. She thought it 
 was about the nicest and sweetest story she ever 
 heard. 'Twas like the story of Elijah and the 
 ravens feeding him. And she hoped they were 
 always good to that little hen. 
 
 After Teddy came in the second time with Dick 
 they sat around her couch and told her about the 
 accident of the day before ; how Suzette had tum- 
 bled into the pink sea, and how Teddy had jumped 
 in after her. And when a startled look came into 
 little Bess's eyes at this, Suzette and Teddy had 
 to do it all over again in pantomime, plunging off 
 the chairs on to the floor, till she laughed long 
 and heartily.
 
 314 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 "There was no danger," said Suzette. " When 
 I was going down I knew L should come up again 
 just as I do when I dive really. It 's great fun to 
 swim, little Bess. It 's almost as good as flying." 
 
 " And Teddy jumped in to help you ! That was 
 nice of Teddy," said little Bess. 
 
 " And what did Mehitable say ? " she asked. 
 For little Bess knew just what a tyrant Mehitable 
 was. For sometimes, when she begged Doctor 
 Tom to stay a little longer and tell another story, 
 he would say, " I can't. If I don't get home to 
 supper, Mehitable will give it to the cat, and send 
 me to bed without any." 
 
 To make believe that he was a naughty boy 
 and Mehitable was going to punish him was the 
 very funniest of his make-believes, little Bess 
 thought, except pretending that he was cross. 
 Doctor Tom really and truly cross ! And her 
 delight was exquisite when, right in the midst of 
 a merry laugh all round, he suddenly thrust his 
 head into the window and, scowling fiercely, 
 growled out : 
 
 "Fee, fi, fo, fum, 
 
 I smell the blood of a ranch-worn-//;*. 
 Be she alive or be she dead, 
 I '11 take her home and send her to bed."
 
 DEPARTURE OF A LITTLE PILGRIM. 315 
 
 Suzette replied to her question that Mehitable, 
 who was afraid of the water, and had never been 
 persuaded in all her life to get into a boat, had 
 declared it was just what she had expected all 
 summer, that "some of 'em would come home 
 drownded, an' she had told Jason so. An' Jason 
 only laughed at her an* said he guessed they knew 
 enough to keep out o' water. Jason alwa's knew 
 such a dre'tful sight himself, there was no tellin' 
 him nothin'. If he 'd 'a' lived in Old Testament 
 times, Solomon never 'd 'a' be'n heard of. The 
 wisest man would 'a' be'n Jason Wimpenny." 
 
 Then they all laughed again, and Doctor Tom 
 with the rest. But pretty soon he asked how 
 long they had been there, and said it was sunset, 
 and supper would soon be ready. Mehitable had 
 a delicious peach shortcake about ready to go into 
 the oven when he came away, and on no account 
 must it be suffered to get cold. And if they 
 would come directly, Dick should bring a gener- 
 ous section down to little Bess, carefully put be- 
 tween two of the old pink plates that belonged 
 to his grandmother, and which she (little Bess) 
 thought so pretty. 
 
 But instead of going directly, it seemed as 
 though they would never get off. Dick and Su-
 
 316 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 zette kept running back to the window to say 
 things. Never had it been so difficult to get away 
 from the little creature, who greeted each return 
 with a fresh smile. Uncle Tom pretended to 
 scold, and then came back himself to ask how 
 Squawleena's appetite was, and if the breaking- 
 out had disappeared. But at last they did go 
 away, and found Mehitable pouring the cream, 
 not over one, but two shortcakes ; one as big 
 almost as the shield of Achilles, the other small, 
 round, and comely, having been baked in a saucer 
 especially for little Bess. And, a small island in 
 a sea of cream, it was taken down to her between 
 the pink plates of old china. Would that all 
 tyrants had so kindly hearts as was that of 
 Mehitable ! 
 
 That evening they were at the east window in 
 uncle Tom's own room. They were in darkness 
 illuminated only by the gleam of the electric light 
 on Cole's Hill. Uncle Tom was resting from his 
 day's work in his easy-chair, and Suzette was 
 standing beside him with his arm around her in 
 the dear, familiar fashion. Across the bay the 
 Gurnet lights burned brightly and stedfastly, as 
 though they knew their mission was to save life.
 
 DEPARTURE OF A LITTLE PILGRIM. 317 
 
 Clouds were gathering in the north-west. The air 
 was sultry, and at intervals was heard the low 
 rumbling of thunder. A vessel was coming in, 
 and the water in her wake looked like liquid fire. 
 It was a phosphorescent sea, the first Suzette and 
 Dick had ever seen. They had been talking about 
 it, and then came a long silence. 
 
 " Uncle Tom ! " said Suzette, breaking the 
 silence at last. 
 
 " Well, pussy ? " 
 
 " What do you think about little Bess ? " The 
 question had been upon her lips ever since they 
 came home. But not until now had she found 
 courage to ask it. 
 
 "I think," replied uncle Tom, hesitating, too, a 
 little, " I think her life of pain is near its end." 
 
 The next morning, early, came a messenger in 
 haste from the small gray house. It was Teddy, 
 who, in broken words, said that little Bess had 
 fallen asleep and they could not wake her. Would 
 Doctor Tom come at once ? He went with Teddy, 
 and close upon them followed Dick and Suzette. 
 
 The room was very silent as the two entered. 
 It was still so early no one was astir in the neigh- 
 borhood. Little Bess's mother was sitting beside
 
 318 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 the bed whereon she lay sleeping softly, and 
 Doctor Tom stood beside it holding her hand. 
 The sweet air of the morning came in at the open 
 window, lightly stirring the leaves of the honey- 
 suckle as it passed. There on the couch was the 
 little empty wooden frame, and the dolls stood or 
 lay upon the table in their usual order. 
 
 Colonel Archibald Yell jumped in at the win- 
 dow, shaking his tinkling bell, but, not finding his 
 little friend in her accustomed place for she had 
 always been an early riser, and often left her bed 
 for her couch at dawn made search for her, and, 
 finding her, lay down beside her, purring content- 
 edly. 
 
 As she slept on, smiles came and went upon her 
 face. Her dreams were evidently happy ones. 
 
 Suddenly she opened her eyes. They were 
 always exceedingly beautiful eyes, for they were 
 of that luminous gray that radiates light as the 
 stars do. But never before had they seemed to 
 Suzette and Dick so beautiful. The light seemed 
 to stream from them as from some hidden and in- 
 exhaustible source. And they were intently fixed 
 as upon some one whom she recognized, and were 
 full of unspeakable love. 
 
 " Is He there, little Bess ? " asked Doctor Tom, 
 in a clear, distinct voice, " Do you see Him ? "
 
 DEPARTURE OF A LITTLE PILGRIM. 319 
 
 There was no answer, though the lips moved. 
 But the hand which Doctor Tom held clasped his 
 eagerly. 
 
 " ' Suffer the little children to come unto me,' " 
 he added, and her eyelids gently fell. 
 
 They would have thought that she had again 
 fallen asleep if, after a moment, Doctor Tom had 
 not stooped and kissed her, saying softly, " Good- 
 by, little Bess ! "
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 WESTWARD HO ! 
 
 I see the living tide roll on; 
 
 It crowns with naming towers 
 The icy cape of Labrador, 
 
 The Spaniard's " land of flowers." 
 It streams beyond the splintered ridge 
 
 That parts the northern shores; 
 From eastern rock to sunset wave 
 
 The continent is ours! Holmes. 
 
 'THEN days passed, and on the evening of the 
 -*- eleventh, Dick had a letter from his mother. 
 As I have said, he had a letter every day, he and 
 Suzette. A little personal letter always, and every 
 fourth or fifth day, a joint letter, a kind of journal 
 of what took place daily at the ranch, with mes- 
 sages from Chiquita and Pepito and the dogs. As 
 soon as the mother had sent off one journal letter 
 she began another, just as Thackeray says Dean 
 Swift did, who wrote so many letters to Stella 
 they quite fill a big book. 
 
 " He can not bear to let go her little kind hand, 
 as it were," says Thackeray. 
 
 320
 
 WESTWARD HO! 32! 
 
 And so it was with this mother far away in Colo- 
 rado. She could not bear to let go the hands of 
 these two. 
 
 But this letter was a special letter to Dick, 
 written after she had heard about little Bess. For 
 Suzette, with many tears dropping upon the paper, 
 had written her mother all about her falling asleep. 
 
 It was not the first time, as you may suppose, 
 that she had heard of her or of Teddy. For Dick 
 and Suzette had kept a kind of journal too, telling 
 what they did and where they went, what they 
 said and heard said of the many interesting places 
 and things about them. And Dick, who had a 
 capital knack at drawing, illustrated this journal 
 as they went along, with pen-and-ink sketches, and 
 so Mrs. Richard knew exactly how the small gray 
 house looked, and the dolls, and Colonel Yell, as 
 well as the site of the old fort and Pilgrim Spring, 
 and other weightier matters. 
 
 She had thought and planned many things con- 
 cerning Teddy. For she had written to Doctor 
 Tom and aunt Penelope, after she had heard of 
 his motherless condition, to ask about him, and 
 uncle Tom had replied in a long letter, in which 
 he had told her that although a rough he was by 
 no means a bad boy, and had " the making of a 
 man in him."
 
 322 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 He had told her, too, as he did Suzette, that 
 little Bess's life of pain was nearing its end, and 
 he almost dreaded the effect of her death upon 
 Teddy. "For she seems to be the only creature 
 the poor little fellow has to love, and I often won- 
 der what will become of him when she is gone." 
 
 So, after the arrival of Suzette's tear-stained 
 letter, Mrs. Richard sat down and wrote to 
 Dick ; and here is the letter, which is a model 
 mother-letter, for the true mother never forgets 
 that there are other children in the world besides 
 her own : 
 
 My dear Dick, I have heard with sorrow of the death 
 of your little Bess, and with joy too. You are old enough, 
 I think, to understand what that means how we may have 
 sorrow and joy at the same time and about the same thing. 
 
 There is joy for little Bess because her pain is over, and 
 in the new life which has now begun with her there is to be 
 no such loss as she suffered in this. We do not know just 
 what that life is. But we do know that this beautiful world 
 is only a faint type of that into which she has gone, and that 
 there God wipes away all tears from all eyes. 
 
 But my heart aches for Teddy. Poor little fellow ! I 
 wish I had him here this moment, that I might try, at least, 
 to comfort him. And you must be very gentle and tender 
 with him, my son. Remember that he has never had a 
 mother to love him and bear with him.
 
 WESTWARD HO! 323 
 
 "Just as if I could ever forget that ! " said Dick 
 to himself, when he got to this point in the letter. 
 And he had to take out his handkerchief and wipe 
 his eyes. Then he braced himself firmly and went 
 on : 
 
 No matter how he may act, do not think him strange. 
 A wounded animal, you know, for you have seen that, creeps 
 away by itself and wants to be alone with its pain. And 
 that is the way sorrow affects many people, and especially 
 does it affect children so children who have no mothers to 
 go to. So do not think it strange if Teddy should seem to 
 avoid you. 
 
 " Queer she should know that ! " thought Dick. 
 " Mamma knows about everything." 
 
 His heart is very sore, and even the kindliest touch hurts. 
 He can not bear it. But you must not let him go away by 
 himself. You must seek him out and let him know you love 
 him. Cheer him with kind words, so that he shall not feel 
 that he is all alone in this great world now his little friend is 
 gone. And choose your words well, my child. Do not talk 
 about little Bess to him. If he wishes to talk of her he will 
 do so. 
 
 And now I have something to tell you which I think will 
 help you to comfort him. Papa and I have been thinking 
 long about the plan of having Teddy come home with you. 
 Uncle Tom writes well of him, and if he comes it will be as 
 one of our family your brother, who will share everything 
 with you.
 
 324 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 " Hurrah ! " shouted Dick just here, and so 
 loud that Suzette, who was sitting upon the 
 landing of the staircase by the tall old clock 
 and weaving all sorts of fancies concerning the 
 English carvings, ran in to see what he was 
 about. " Mamma 's a brick ! a jolly brick ! " he 
 said, and then he read the last sentence over 
 again to Suzette, and they finished the letter 
 together. 
 
 It is not without a good deal of thought that we have 
 come to this decision, and it will bring a good deal of respon- 
 sibility upon you as well as upon us. But I trust my boy 
 is ready to take upon himself responsibilities and do his part 
 in saving for a good and noble manhood this little waif. You 
 have already come to love him, and to love everything is 
 possible. You will have to practice self-denial and forbear- 
 ance, to bring into daily practice the Golden Rule ; and if 
 you think you are not equal to this we shall have to abandon 
 the scheme. But if you are, go to Teddy when you get this 
 and tell him. And God bless you, my dear boy Dick ! 
 
 " Oh, is n't that good of papa and mamma ! " 
 exclaimed Suzette, as Dick both relieved and ex- 
 pressed his feelings by tossing the letter to the 
 ceiling, only to catch it and toss it again. " I 
 think we have the best father and mother in the 
 world. Teddy going to Colorado ! Oh, won't he
 
 WESTWARD HO! 325 
 
 like it ! And he shall have Chiquita ; he won't be 
 afraid to ride Chiquita. And I can ride Sancho ; 
 I can manage Sancho." 
 
 "Oh, pooh ! just as if Teddy can't ride Sancho! 
 He '11 make a splendid rider, he 's so fearless. Oh, 
 won't it be fun to teach him ! " 
 
 "Anj I shall have two brothers," said Suzette, 
 exultingly. " Only you '11 always be the twin- 
 brother, ' heart of my heart,' as pipa says. But 
 do go and find him and tell him right off." 
 
 But this was easier said than done, for Dick had 
 only caught two glimpses of him since the day lit- 
 tle Bess died, and when he questioned Mrs. White 
 concerning him she replied that she " did n't know 
 nothin' about where he was, and, what 's more, she 
 did n't care ; he was gettin' jes' good f'r nothin', 
 and did n't earn his salt." 
 
 Dick looked all around his usual haunts, the 
 wharves. He explored every part of Burial Hill. 
 He walked along the shore road to the railway 
 station. But he found no Teddy. Then he 
 thought of the little grave in the cemetery, and 
 he went there, and Teddy was sitting beside it. 
 His head was upon his knees, and he did not hear 
 Dick's step upon the turf. Dick sat down beside 
 him, and put his arm around his neck. Teddy
 
 326 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 seemed to know, without looking, who it was, and 
 so they sat for some minutes. 
 
 At last Dick said cheerfully, " I 've got a letter 
 from my mother about you, Teddy, that I guess 
 you '11 like to hear. May n't I read it ? " and then 
 Teddy lifted his head, and Dick saw that his face 
 was very dirty, and there were tear-streaks in the 
 dirt. His hair was rough, too, and he seemed to 
 have gone back to the old disorderly ways before 
 he knew Dick. 
 
 So Dick read the letter slowly and in a cheer- 
 ful voice, and as he read a brighter look came 
 into Teddy's hopeless little face a look of bright 
 astonishment. 
 
 " Wants me t' come home with you ! " he ex- 
 claimed incredulously, as Dick finished. " I go to 
 Colorado ! Y' don't mean it ! " 
 
 "That's about it," replied Dick. "And you'll 
 have grand times, I tell you ! There 's Sancho to 
 ride. He 's a jolly pony ! Jo trained him, and he 
 can leap a ditch, and walk on his hind legs, and 
 play ' whoop-and-hide.' And there's the sheep 
 and the collies. I tell you, Teddy, it '11 take you 
 six years to learn all about the sheep ! And 
 there 's mamma. 'T is n't every boy can have 
 such a mother as mamma for the taking."
 
 WESTWARD HO! 337 
 
 " She must be awful good t' want me," said 
 Teddy solemnly. " I ain't good, I know I ain't ; 
 but I mean to be. I '11 try, yes, I '11 try awful 
 hard. Mrs. White has be'n jest as hateful ! 
 A-diggin' at me ever ever sence little Bess 
 died. An' I know I 'd ought n't t' be'n sarcy, but 
 she said little Bess was nothin' but a trouble an' a 
 plague, an' 'twas jest as well that that oh, 
 little Bess ! " and, with a passionate cry and a 
 flood of tears, he threw himself upon the mound, 
 where the grass was already beginning to spring 
 afresh above his little friend. 
 
 I do not think Dick would like to have me tell 
 exactly what he did the next few minutes. Only 
 I will say that he comforted Teddy in the spirit of 
 our divine Lord, who you remember went near to 
 those in affliction and laid his hands upon them. 
 
 With that burst of tears the bitterness seemed 
 to be washed out of Teddy's grief, and he wiped 
 his eyes at last with a more cheerful heart, and 
 arm in arm the two boys walked away, the one 
 tall, manly, well-dressed, the child of good fortune, 
 who had never know in his own person sorrow or 
 want ; the other not quite as tall, but equally as 
 manly, shabby in dress, and whose short life had 
 been one struggle with the ills and pains of
 
 328 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 poverty. It would have been difficult to tell 
 which was the happier, the boy who was to share 
 his good fortune or the one who was to accept 
 that share. 
 
 So it was that when, on a day in late Sep- 
 tember, Dick and Suzette sailed away from Old 
 Pilgrim Town, Teddy was with them, no longer 
 ragged and unkempt, but neatly clad in a suit 
 that Doctor Tom had given him for he had in- 
 sisted upon fitting out Teddy himself and with 
 his black, curling hair carefully brushed, and his 
 hands carefully cared for with the toilet set Miss 
 Penelope had bestowed upon him. 
 
 I can not say that he was altogether cheerful as 
 he watched the spires and towering trees of the 
 town gradually fade in the distance, but he was 
 profoundly happy, and the look he turned upon 
 Doctor Tom, as the last faint outline disappeared, 
 was full of gratitude. For Doctor Tom now 
 uncle Tom to Teddy, as well as to the other two, 
 a fact the recognition of which filled him with the 
 utmost humility was going up to Boston with 
 them to place the three in charge of the friends 
 with whom Dick and Suzette had made their east- 
 ward journey, and with whom they were to return 
 Westward ho !
 
 WESTWARD HO! 329 
 
 There is one Pilgrim story which has been 
 awaiting its proper time and place, which seems to 
 be just here, and that is the romantic story of the 
 Bradford History for so it is called, though it is 
 really a journal of the Plymouth plantation, cover- 
 ing the years from 1622 to 1646. Although for a 
 long series of years this manuscript was lost, yet 
 it was known there was such a one, because cer- 
 tain historians of that period, Morton, Prince, and 
 Hutchinson, had made use of it. 
 
 It was last known to have been in the tower of 
 the Old South Church in Boston, carefully kept 
 there with other important papers till the time, in 
 1775-76, when the British soldiery were in that 
 city and made use of the Old South Church for a 
 riding-school. It then disappeared, together with 
 Governor Bradford's Letter-Book, and it was 
 thought they had both been destroyed. But a 
 member of the Massachusetts Historical Society 
 came across the Letter-Book by chance in a grocer's 
 shop in Halifax, Nova Scotia, and sent it to the 
 rooms of that society in Boston, where it is now 
 carefully kept. 
 
 But no trace of the history was found till 185$, 
 when the discovery was made that it was in the 
 library of the Bishop of London, England, at his 
 palace at Fulham.
 
 330 LITTLE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 There it still remains, though we must all agree 
 with Suzette, who said, as she looked at the torn 
 and defaced Letter-Book, that it was " a shame 
 that the History was not there too." It has, 
 however, been carefully copied and printed, and so 
 we have the history of those heroic times heroic 
 as the Trojan days of Homer, or as those of 
 Roman story from one who, like ^Eneas, not 
 only saw them, but was a part of them. 
 
 How the History made its journey from the 
 tower of the Old South Church in Boston to the 
 shelves of the Fulham Library we shall probably 
 never know. But we all have the liberty of specu- 
 lating about it as we please, which Suzette did to 
 her heart's content, at last suggesting, in sheer 
 despair of any rational certainty, that it had been 
 spirited through the air like the magic carpet in 
 the Arabian Nights. 
 
 This story has been kept to the last, as the 
 Letter-Book of Governor Bradford was the last 
 glimpse Dick and Suzette had of Old Pilgrim 
 Town, and they lingered long over its time-stained 
 pages. 
 
 They had left the rooms, and were going slowly 
 up Tremont Street, when a policeman, standing at 
 the Parker House corner, fixed his eyes upon
 
 WESTWARD HO! 331 
 
 them. A broad smile illuminated his round and 
 rosy face. 
 
 " Hillo ! " he remarked, as he espied Teddy, 
 who touched his hat with what might have been 
 taken for a long-established grace. " Ye did n't 
 come up as a stowaway this time, I '11 bet ! " 
 
 " No," replied Teddy, as Dick and Suzette 
 moved slowly on, and speaking with great exact- 
 ness. " I came up with them. I 'm going home 
 with them. I 'm going to Colorado to live." 
 
 The policeman whistled. 
 
 " Ye don't say so ! Goin' t' live t' Colorado ! 
 Well, well, I 'm glad for ye. But how 's little 
 Bess?" 
 
 Teddy hesitated a moment. A soft mist came 
 over his eyes. 
 
 " Little Bess ? " he said, looking wistfully at the 
 policeman. " Little Bess ? God 's took her." 
 
 Such is the force of habit and association ! 
 And I think if Teddy should live till the three- 
 score years and ten, and should acquire the most 
 cultured speech, he would still, in thinking or 
 speaking of little Bess, go back to the language of 
 those ungrammatical days.
 
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