A Little Maid of Province Town Part 18

"Well, now for Province Town. I guess we've helped a little bit, Anne. At least you have."

Anne was eating one of the big red apples, and thinking about Squire Coffin's big house and small niece.

"We'll tell Aunt Martha all that's happened," went on Captain Enos, "but do not speak to any one else of it, Anne. 'Twould make trouble for your father and for me if our trip to Newburyport was known."

"I'll not speak of it," Anne promised.

"It has been a good trip," said Captain Enos. "Mr. Freeman paid me well for the fish. I have a keg of mola.s.ses in the cabin, which will be welcome news for Martha."

As they came into harbor at sunrise next morning and Captain Enos dropped anchor and lowered the big mainsail, Anne looked eagerly toward the sh.o.r.e.

She could see Jimmie Starkweather and his father watching them. After Captain Enos had lowered the keg of mola.s.ses into the dory, and put in the box that held Anne's hat, and the other packages, he helped Anne over the side of the sloop to a seat in the bow of the dory.

As soon as the boat touched the sh.o.r.e Jimmie and his father ran down to help draw it up on the beach. Jimmie looked at Captain Enos as if he half expected a scolding, but as soon as Captain Enos landed he patted the boy's shoulder kindly, and said:

"The little maid has told me all about it. You were not greatly to blame, Jimmie. And the trip turned out all right."

"I saw my father," said Anne, and then ran away toward home, leaving Captain Enos to tell of the visit to Boston.

Aunt Martha had seen the sloop come to anchor, and was waiting at the door to welcome Anne.

"Uncle Enos and I have a secret with my father," Anne whispered to Mrs.

Stoddard, "and we have been to Newburyport." And then the story of the wonderful trip was told, and Anne showed Mrs. Stoddard how she had curtseyed to the squire.

"Well! Well!" exclaimed the good woman in amazement. "It does seem as if you had all sorts of adventures, Anne. To think of Enos undertaking such a thing. I'm proud of you both. 'twill be a fine story to tell your grandchildren, Anne. How you carried news from Boston patriots to Newburyport. But do not speak of it till we are through with all these troublous days." And again Anne promised to keep silent.

"To think you should run off like that, child," continued Aunt Martha.

"When Jimmie Starkweather came up and told me you were gone I could scarce believe him till I had climbed the stairs to the loft and found no trace of you. But I am right glad you wore your shoes and stockings. Where did the blue cape come from?"

By this time they were in the kitchen, and Anne had put down the box that held her hat.

"Mrs. Freeman gave it to me," she replied, "and see! I have a new hat!"

and she opened the box and took out the pretty hat.

"I thought thy uncle would take thee straight to Mistress Freeman," said Mrs. Stoddard.

"And we found my father," went on Anne happily, "and he sent thee this,"

and she drew the gold piece from her pocket and gave it to Mrs. Stoddard.

"Well, well," said Aunt Martha, "'Tis a fine piece of money, and your father is kind to send it. I will use it well."

"And Uncle Enos has fetched you a fine shawl and a keg of mola.s.ses," said Anne. "You do not think there was great harm in my hiding in the sloop, Aunt Martha?" The little girl's face was so troubled that Aunt Martha gave her another kiss, and said:

"It has turned out well, but thee must never do so again. Suppose a great storm had come up and swept the sloop from her moorings that night?"

"Rose Freeman looks just like a rose," said Anne, feeling quite sure that Aunt Martha was not displeased; "and she walks so softly that you can hardly hear her, and she speaks softly, too. I am going to walk and speak just as she does."

"That is right," agreed Mrs. Stoddard. "I am sure that she is a well-spoken girl."

When Captain Enos came up the hill toward home Anne had already put her blue cape and hat carefully away, and was sitting near the fire with the white kitten curled up in her lap.

"The Freemans do not eat in their kitchen," said Anne, as they sat down to supper; "they eat in a square room with a s.h.i.+ning floor, and where there is a high mantel-shelf with china images."

"'Tis a fine house," agreed Captain Enos, "well built of brick. 'twas a great thing for Anne to see it."

"'Tis not so pleasant a house as this," said Anne. "I could not see the harbor from any window, and the sh.o.r.e is not smooth and sandy like the sh.o.r.es of our harbor."

Captain Enos smiled and nodded.

"That's right, Anne," he said; "Boston houses may do for town people, but we sailor-folk like our own best."

"Yes, indeed!" replied Anne, "and I do not believe a beach-plum grows on their sh.o.r.e. And nothing I tasted there was so good as Aunt Martha's meal bread."

The next morning Anne started for school, wearing the new shoes and scarlet stockings and the little plaid shawl. The children were all anxious to hear about what she saw in Boston, and she told them of the soldiers on the Common, and of the shops, and of the houses made of brick and stone, and she showed Amanda how to make the wonderful curtsey. But Elder Haven soon called them to take their seats, and it was not until the noon recess that she found a chance to speak alone with Amanda.

The two little girls sat down on the front door-step of Elder Haven's house, and Anne told of the wonderful sail to Boston, and had just begun to describe Rose Freeman when the teacher's voice was heard calling them in.

As soon as school closed for the day, Amanda said that she could walk home with Anne and see the new cape and hat, and hear more about Rose Freeman.

"Would you like better to live in Boston than here?" asked Amanda, as they walked along.

Anne looked at her in surprise.

"Why, Amanda!" she said; "of course I wouldn't. It is not seemly there to go out-of-doors without a hat; and Rose Freeman said that she had never been barefooted in her life. She has fine white stockings knit of cotton yarn for summer, and low s.h.i.+ny shoes that she called 'slippers.'"

"'Twould be hard to wear shoes all the year," agreed Amanda, looking down at her own stout leather shoes, "but I like them well now."

"I brought you a present from Boston," said Anne just as they reached the Stoddards' door. "Rose Freeman gave it to me, and I saved it for you."

"Well, Amanda," said Mrs. Stoddard, as the two girls came into the kitchen, "are you not glad to have Anne safe home again? 'twas quite a journey to take."

"She likes Province Town better than Boston," answered Amanda smilingly.

"To be sure she does, and why not?" replied Mrs. Stoddard. "There are few places where there is so much salt water to be seen as here, and no better place for fis.h.i.+ng. Now, Anne, I have a little surprise for you. I have asked Mr. and Mrs. Starkweather and their six boys to come up this evening, and your father and mother, Amanda, and you and Amos. The evenings are getting fine and long now and we must begin to be neighborly."

"Then I mustn't stay long now," said Amanda; "it will be pleasant to come up here again in the evening."

Amanda tried on Anne's blue cape and hat, looked admiringly at Mrs.

Stoddard's s.h.i.+ning gold piece and brown shawl, and then Anne handed her the package of barley sugar.

"I will keep it," said Amanda, gratefully; "'twould seem ungrateful to eat a present."

Mrs. Stoddard nodded. "Keep it until Sunday, Amanda," she said, "but then it will be well to eat a part of it."

"But can she not taste it now?" asked Anne. "I am sure it is good. It came out of a big gla.s.s jar in a shop."

"I see I must tell you two little girls a secret," said Mrs. Stoddard, "but Amanda must not tell Amos."

"No, indeed," said Amanda quickly.