The Two Story Mittens and the Little Play Mittens Part 1

The Two Story Mittens and the Little Play Mittens.

by Frances Elizabeth Barrow.

MORE ABOUT THE MITTENS.

THE mittens were coming bravely on. Some evenings, Aunt f.a.n.n.y could not send a story; and then the little mother read an entertaining book, or chatted pleasantly with her children.

There had been twelve pairs finished, during the reading of the third book, and several more were on the way. George had written the most delightful letters, each of which was read to his eagerly-listening sisters and brothers several times, for they were never tired of hearing about life in camp.

This evening, the mother drew another letter, received that day, out of her pocket. The very sight of the envelope, with the precious flag in the corner, caused their eyes to sparkle, and their fingers to fly at their patriotic and loving work.

"Attention!" said the mother in a severe, military tone. Everybody burst out laughing, choked it off, immediately straightened themselves up as stiff as ramrods, and she began:

"DEAR MOTHER, CAPTAIN, AND ALL THE BELOVED SQUAD:--Our camp is splendid! We call it Camp Ellsworth. It covers the westward slope of a beautiful hill. The air is pure and fresh, and our streets (for we have real ones) are kept as clean as a pin. Not an end of a cigar, or an inch of potato peeling, dare to show themselves. Directly back of the camp strong earthworks have been thrown up, with rifle pits in front; and these are manned by four artillery companies from New York.

Our commissary is a very good fellow, but I wish he would buy pork with less fat. I am like the boy in school, who wrote home to his mother, his face all puckered up with disgust: "They make us eat p-h-a-t!!" When I swizzle it (or whatever you call that kind of cooking) in a pan over the fire, there is nothing left of a large slice, but a little shrivelled brown bit, swimming in about half a pint of melted lard, not quarter enough to satisfy a great robin redbreast like me; but I make the most of it, by pointing my bread for some time at it, and then eating a lot of bread before I begin at the pork. The pointing, you see, gives the bread a flavor."

The children screamed with laughter at this, and wanted to have some salt pork cooked immediately to try the "pointing" flavor. Their mother promised to have some for breakfast, and went on reading:

"We are very busy at drills. I give the boys plenty of field exercise, quick step, skirmishes, double quick, and all manner of manoeuvres. After drill, we sing songs, tell jokes, and _play_ jokes upon each other, but we don't forget, in doing this, that we are _gentlemen_.

"Oh dear mother, I am crazy to be in action! I am afraid, if we don't have a battle soon, I shall get motheaten. Our General is a glorious fellow, and is just as anxious as we are to have it over; peace will come all the sooner. Hollo! Here comes "Tapp," and I must blow out my half inch of tallow candle, and go to bed.

"Good-by, all my dear ones. Love and pray for your affectionate son and brother, GEORGE."

"Ah!" sighed the children, as the mother folded up the letter. Then they were silent, thinking of the dear brother who wanted so much to be in the dreadful battle; and the little mother was looking very mournful when there came a ring at the bell.

The servant handed in a package, which proved to be a story from "Aunt f.a.n.n.y." It came very fortunately; and the mittens grew fast, as the little mother read the interesting history of--

THE PARTY LILLIE GAVE FOR MISS FLORENCE.

"OH, mamma, please _do_ buy me a new doll," said Lillie, one day in June.

"Why, how you talk!" answered her mother. "What has become of your large family?"

"Oh, mamma! Minnie, the china doll, has only one leg, and my three wax dolls are no better. f.a.n.n.y has only one arm; both Julia's eyes are out; and the kitten scratched off Maria's wig the other day, and she has the most dreadful-looking, bald pate you ever saw! Instead of its being made of nice white wax, it is nothing but old brown paper! I think it is very mean not to make dolls' bald heads like other people's! Then I could have dressed Maria up in pantaloons, and made a grandfather of her. But now she is fit for nothing but to be put in a cornfield to scare away the crows."

Lillie's mother laughed, and kissed her lovely daughter, who had not met with any of the terrible misfortunes that had befallen her wax and china family. _She_ had both her round and chubby white arms; and two pretty and active legs, that made themselves very useful in skipping and jumping from morning till night; and just the prettiest golden brown wig you ever saw. It was fastened on so tight, that the kitten, with all her scratchings, could never twitch it off; in fact, every single hair was fastened by a root in her dear little head, and fell in soft, natural curls over her dimpled cheeks.

That very afternoon, her mother went out shopping; and looking in at a toy shop window, she saw a splendid wax doll nearly three feet long. It was dressed up in all manner of furbelows, but the dress did not look half so fresh and lovely as the doll. The arms and hands were all wax, round, pinky-white, and beautifully shaped, with two cunning dimples in the elbows, and four little dimples in the back of each hand. She had dark curling hair, large blue eyes, and very small feet.

"Well," said the loving mother to herself, "I really _must_ try to get this splendid doll for my darling Lillie." Her own gentle blue eyes quite sparkled at the thought of the happiness such a present would bring with it. So she walked quickly in, and asked the price.

Oh dear! It was twenty dollars!

This was more than the mother thought right to give for the doll; and she told the man so, very politely. He was a very wise man, and what is more and better, kept a toy shop, because he loved children dearly; so he put his head on one side, and thought; then he looked out of the corner of his eye at the lady, and saw what a pleasant, sweet expression was on her face; then he thought again--this time, how disappointed the sweet little girl at home would be, if she knew her mother was out looking for a doll for her, and came home without one; and then he said, "What do you think the doll is worth?"

Lillie's mother told him what she considered a fair price, and the darling, good toyman spoke up as quick as a flash, "You shall have it, ma'am! Here, John, put this doll in paper, and take it to 'No. 13 Clinton Place.'"

[ILl.u.s.tRATION: Helen's Return Home.]

Lillie's sister Helen was going to spend the summer with her dear grandmamma in Middletown. A splendid idea came into the kind mother's head. Taking Helen into a room alone, she said, "My dear, you will want some sewing to do, while you are away; suppose you take the beautiful doll and make up several suits of clothes for her, just as neatly as possible. I am sure your grandmamma will help you; and when you return, we will have a delightful surprise for Lillie." The darling, good sister, was just as pleased as possible with this plan: indeed, she had not got past liking to play with dolls herself; and she was very different from some elder sisters, who take an unamiable pleasure in teasing the younger ones, instead of joining in their plays, and doing everything to add to their happiness. So the doll and all sorts of pretty muslins and silks, and materials for under garments, were mysteriously packed away in Helen's trunk, and she went off to her grandmother's pleasant country house, without Lillie's having the slightest suspicion of what she was going to do. She was very busy all summer making the clothes, with her grandmamma's help. Many of the pleasant mornings she sat on the steps of the door, listening to the singing of the birds as she sewed.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

And now this is a very good place to tell you about Lillie and her sisters; for she had three dear sisters--Helen, Mary, and sweet little Maggie; and no brother at all. The only one she ever had, went to live with Jesus in heaven, after staying only fifteen months here in this world.

You know already what a kind mother the children had; and I am very certain their papa loved them just as much. When he is with them, his dark, bright, and piercing eyes droop and soften into an expression of so much affection, that one day, when I was visiting at his house, I caught myself repeating the words of a perfect little poem, which seemed to have been written expressly for him. It is so beautiful, and describes the children so well, with the change of one or two words, that I have ventured to copy it here for you. It was written by Gerald Ma.s.sey.

"There be four maidens; four loving maidens; Four bonny maidens, mine; Four precious jewels are set in Life's crown, On prayer-lifted brows to s.h.i.+ne.

Eight starry eyes, all love-luminous, Look out of our heaven so tender; Since the honeymoon glowing and glorious Arose in its ripening splendor.

"There's Lillie bell, the d.u.c.h.ess of wonderland, With her dance of life, dimples and curls; Whose bud of a mouth into sweet kisses bursts, A-smile with the little white pearls: And Mary our rosily-goldening peach, On the sunniest side of the wall; And Helen--mother's own darling, And Maggie, the baby of all."

The summer was pa.s.sed by our dear little Lillie in playing and frolicking, and sometimes tearing her frocks; which last, her mother minded not the least bit, as long as it was an accident. I don't, either. Children had better tear their frocks a little, jumping, climbing over fences, and getting fat and healthy, than to sit in the house, looking pale and miserable. My Alice often comes in, a perfect object to behold! I sometimes wonder the ragman, who drives the old cart with a row of jingling bells strung over the top, don't mistake her for a bundle of rags gone out for a walk. I don't feel _worried_ about it; for if he _should_ happen to make this mistake, and pop her in his cart some day, Alice would make one of her celebrated Indian "yoops," as she calls it, and I rather think he would pop her out, quicker than she went in.

When September had come, Helen returned home; and soon after, the mother said, "Lillie, there is a young lady in town, who wishes to make your acquaintance. She is quite grand and fas.h.i.+onable in her ideas, so we must make a little flourish for her. What do you think of having a party to receive her?"

"A party!" screamed Lillie, clapping her hands with delight; "I would like that _very_ much; and oh! please have candy, and oranges, and oh!

mottoes--lots of snapping mottoes for the party! That would be most delightful! And please ask Nattie, and Kittie, and Lina, and Emily, and oh! everybody."

"You must ask them yourself. See, here is a quant.i.ty of pretty buff and pink note paper, and here is a nice new pen: sit down and write your invitations."

This was a tremendous business! and Lillie, spreading herself in great grandeur, with her head on one side, took the pen and wrote very nicely, _for her_, all the notes, in this way:

"Miss Lillie B---- wishes you To Come to A party to-morrow to Meet A young Lady. Her name Is--i Don't Know Yet. Please Come At Seven-o-Clock. LILLIE."

Then she doubled them up into little squares, and put them into the envelopes; and Margery, the maid, who loved Lillie dearly, and _would_ have rode off with the notes on a broomstick to Jerusalem, if her little lady had wanted her to--trotted about all the morning, leaving them at the children's houses, telling the waiters who answered the doors, on no account to stop a single moment, but rush right up stairs with them, as they were of the greatest importance.

The next morning, Lillie got all the answers. I should think there were about twenty little notes, all directed to her. Was ever anything known to equal it? A lady getting so many letters at once! It was almost too much happiness. They did not all come at once, which was very lucky; for I do believe Lillie would have gone crazy with delight. She opened the first with trembling eagerness, dancing up and down the whole time, and read these enchanting words:

"dear lillie--

"i will come. i shall wear my best frock--what a funny name the young lady has. miss don't know yet

"good bye. yours, NATTIE."

"Oh, mamma," she cried, laughing, "Nattie thinks the young lady's name is 'Miss Don't Know Yet!' How funny! But really, what is her name, mamma?"

"She will tell you that herself, when she comes. She wants to surprise you."

"Oh!" said Lillie; and just then another note was handed to her, and she read this: