Preface of Aunt Jo's Crab Bag. As grandmothers rummaged their peace bags and bundles in search of gay odds and ads to make gifts with which to fill the little stockings that hang all in a row on Christmas Eve, so I have gathered together some stories, old and new, to amuse the large family that has so rapidly and beautifully grown up about me. I hope that when they promenade in nightcaps and gowns to rifle the plump stockings, the little deers will utter an ove of pleasure and give a prince of satisfaction as they pull out the small gift from Aunt Jo's Crab Bag. Christmas Holidays, 1871-72. Feeling that I have been unusually fortunate in my knowledge of a choice and pleasing variety of this least-appreciated portion of the human race, I have a fancy to record some of my experiences, hoping that it may awaken an interest in other minds, and cause other people to cultivate the delightful but too often neglected boys, who now run to waste, so to speak. I have often wondered what they thought of the peculiar treatment they receive, even at the hands of their nearest friends. While they are rosy, roly-poly little fellows, they are petted and praised, adorned and adored, till it is a miracle that they are not utterly ruined. But a moment they outgrow their babyhood, their trials begin, and they are regarded as nuisances till they are twenty-one, when they are again received into favour. Yet that very time of neglect is the period when they most need all manner of helps, and ought to have them. I like boys and oysters raw, so, though good manners are always pleasing, I don't mind the rough outside burr which repels most people, and perhaps that is the reason why the burrs open, and let me see the soft lining and taste the sweet nut hidden inside. My first well-beloved boy was a certain frank, to whom I clung at the age of seven, with a devotion which I fear he did not appreciate. There were six girls in the house, but I would have nothing to say to them, preferring to tag after Frank, and perfectly happy when he allowed me to play with him. I regret to say that the small youth was something of a tyrant, and one of his favoured amusements was trying to make me cry by slapping my hands with books, hoopsticks, shoes, anything that came along capable of giving a good stinging blow. I believe I endured these marks of friendship with the fortitude of a young Indian, and I felt fully repaid for a blistered palm by hearing Frank tell the other boys, �She's a brave little thing! You can't make her cry.� My cheap joy was in romping with him in the long galleries of a piano-manufactury behind our house. What bliss it was to mount one of the cars on which the workman rolled heavy loads from room to room, and to go thundering down the inclined planes regardless of the crash that usually awaited us at the bottom. If I could have played football on the common with my Frank, and Billy Babcock life could have offered me no greater joy at that period. As the prejudices of society forbid this sport, I revenged myself by driving hoop all around the mall without stopping which the boys could not do. I can remember certain happy evenings when we snuggled in sofa corners and planned tricks and ate stolen goodies, and sometimes Frank would put his curly head in my lap and let me stroke it when he was tired. What the girls did, I don't recollect. Their domestic plays were not to my taste, and the only figure that stands out from the dimness of the past is that jolly boy with a twinkling eye. This memory would be quite radiant but for one sad thing, a deed that cut me to the soul then, and which I have never quite forgiven in all these years. On one occasion I did something very naughty, and when called up for judgment fled to the dining-room, locked the door, and from my stronghold defied the whole world. I could have made my own terms, for it was near dinner-time, and the family must eat, but alas, for the treachery of the human heart, Frank betrayed me. He climbed in at the window, unlocked the door, and delivered me up to the foe. Nay, he even defended the base-act, and helped bear the struggling culprit to imprisonment. That nearly broke my heart, for I believed he would stand by me as staunchly as I always stood by him. It was a sad blow, and I couldn't love or trust him any more. Peanuts and candy, ginger snaps, and car rides were unavailing. Even football could not reunite the broken friendship, and to this day I recollect the pang that entered my little heart when I lost my faith in the loyalty of my first boy. The second attachment was of quite a different sort, and had a happier ending. At the mature age of ten, I left home for my first visit to a family of gay and kindly people in—well, why not say it right out?—providence. There were no children, and at first I did not mind this as everyone petted me, especially one of the young men named Christopher, so kind and patient, yet so merry was this good Christie that I took him for my private and particular boy, and loved him dearly, for he got me out of innumerable scrapes, and never was tired of amusing the restless little girl who kept the family in a fever of anxiety by her pranks. He never laughed at her mishaps and mistakes, never played tricks upon her like a certain William who composed the most trying nicknames, and wickedly goaded the wild visitor into all manner of naughtiness. She stood up for her through everything, let her ride the cows, feed the pigs, bang on the piano, and race all over the spice mill, feasting on cinnamon and cloves, brought her down from housetops, and fished her out of brooks. Never scolded, and never seemed tired of the troublesome friendship of little torment. In a week I had exhausted every amusement, and was desperately homesick. It has always been my opinion that I should have been speedily restored to the bosom of my family but for Christie, and but for him I should assuredly have run away before the second week was out. He kept me, and in the hour of my disgrace, stood by me like a man and a brother. One afternoon, inspired by a spirit of benevolence, enthusiastic but short-sighted, I collected several poor children in the barn, and regaled them on cake and figs, helping myself freely to the treasures of the pantry without asking leave, meaning to explain afterward. Being discovered before the supplies were entirely exhausted, the patience of the long-suffering matron gave out, and I was ordered up to the garret to reflect upon my sins, and the pleasing prospect of being sent home with the character of the worst child ever known. My sufferings were deep as I sat upon a fuzzy little trunk all alone in the dull garret, thinking how hard it was to do right, and wondering why I was scolded for feeding the poor when we were expressly bidden to do so. I felt myself an outcast, and bewailed the disgrace I had brought upon my family. Nobody could possibly love such a bad child, and if the mice were to come and eat me then and there, a la bishopado, it would only be a relief to my friends. At this dark moment I heard Christie say below, she meant it kindly, so I wouldn't mind, Fanny, and then up came my boy full of sympathy and comfort. Seeing the tragic expression of my face, he said not a word, but sitting down in an old chair, took me on his knee and held me close and quietly, letting the action speak for itself. It did most eloquently, for the kind armed seemed to take me back from that dreadful exile, and the friendly face to assure me without words, that I had not sinned beyond forgiveness. I had not shed a tear before, but now I cried tempestuously, and clung to him like a shipwrecked little mariner in a storm. Neither spoke, but he held me fast and let me cry myself to sleep, for when the shower was over a pensive peace fell upon me, and the dim old garret seemed not a prison, but a haven of refuge, since my boy came to share it with me. How long I slept I don't know, but it must have been an hour at least, yet my good Christie never stirred, only waited patiently till I woke up in the twilight, and was not afraid because he was there. He took me down as meek as a mouse, and kept me by him all that trying evening, screening me from jokes, rebukes, and sober looks, and when I went to bed he came up to kiss me, and to assure me that this awful circumstance should not be reported at home. This took a load off my heart, and I remember fervently thanking him, and telling him I never would forget it. I never have, though he died long ago, and others have probably forgotten all about the naughty prank. I often longed to ask him how he knew the surest way to win a child's heart by the patience, sympathy, and tender little acts that have kept his memory green for nearly thirty years. Psy was a comrade after my own heart, and for a summer or two we kept the neighborhood in affirmant by our adventures and hair-breath escapes. I think I never knew a boy so full of mischief, and my opportunities of judging have been manifold. He did not get into scrapes himself, but possessed a splendid talent for deluding others into them, and then morally remarking, There, I told you so. His way of saying, you dares not do this or that, was like fire to powder, and why I still live in the possession of all my limbs and senses, is a miracle to those who know my youthful friendship with Psy. It was he who incited me to jump off the highest beam in the barn, to be born home on a board with a pair of sprained ankles. It was he who dared me rub my eyes with red peppers, and then sympathizingly led me home blind and roaring with pain.  Those thirteen innocent pink tails haunt me yet, and the memory of that deed has given me a truly Jewish aversion to pork. I did not know him long, but he was a kindred soul, and must have a place in my list of boys. He is a big brown man now, and having done his part in the war, is at work on his farm. We meet sometimes, and though we try to be dignified and proper, it is quite impossible. There is a sly twinkle in Psy's eye that upsets my gravity, and we always burst out laughing at the memory of our early frolics. My Augustus—oh, my Augustus, my first little lover and the most romantic of my boys. At fifteen I met this charming youth and thought I had found my fate. It was at a spelling school in a little country town where I, as a stranger and visitor from the city, was an object of interest. Painfully conscious of this fact, I sat in a corner trying to look easy and elegant, with a large red bow under my chin, and a carnelian ring in full view. Among the boys and girls who froliced about me, I saw one lad of seventeen, with large blue eyes, a noble brow, and a beautiful straight nose, as I described him in a letter to my sister. This attractive youth had a certain air of refinement and ease of manner that the others lacked, and when I found he was the minister's son, I felt that I might admire him without loss of dignity. Imagine my sensations, as Miss Bernie's Evelina says, when this boy came and talked to me, a little bashfully at first, but soon quite freely, and invited me to a huckleberry party next day. I had observed that he was one of the best spellers. I also observed that his language was quite elegant. He even quoted Byron, and rolled his eyes in a most engaging manner, not to mention that he asked who gave me my ring, and said he depended on escorting me to the berry pasture. Dear me, how interesting it was! And when I found myself next day sitting under a tree in the sunny field, full of boys and girls, all more or less lovering, with the amiable Augustus at my feet gallantly supplying me with bushes to strip while we talked about books and poetry, I really felt as if I had got into a novel, and enjoyed it immensely. I believe a dim idea that Gus was sentimental, hovered in my mind, but I would not encourage it, though I laughed in my sleeve when he was spouting Latin for my benefit, and was uncertain whether to box his ears, or simper later in the day, when he languished over the gate, and said he thought chestnut hair the loveliest in the world. Poor dear boy! How innocent and soft-hearted and full of splendid dreams he was! And what deliciously romantic times we had floating on the pond, all the frogs sung to his accordion as he tried to say unutterable things with his honest blue eyes. It makes me shiver now to think of the mosquitoes in the damp, but it was Pauline and Claude Melnoth then, and when I went home we promised to be true to one another, and write every week during the year he was away at school. We parted, not in tears by any means, that sort of nonsense comes later when the romance is less childish, but quite jolly and comfortable, and I hastened to pour forth the thrilling tale to my faithful sister, who approved the match, being a perfect mush of sentiment herself. I fear it was not a very ardent flame, however, for Gus did not write every week, and I did not care a bit. Nevertheless I kept his picture and gave it a sentimental sigh when I happened to think of it, while he sent messages now and then, and devoted himself to his studies like an ambitious boy as he was. I hardly expected to see him again, but soon after the year was out, to my great surprise he called.  He liked chestnut hair, and pulling out my combs I rushed down theatrically disheveled, hoping to impress my lover with my ardor and my charms. I expected to find little Gus, but to my great confusion a tall being with a beaver in his hand rose to meet me, looking so big and handsome, and generally imposing, that I could not recover myself for several minutes, and mentally wailed for my combs, feeling like an untidy simpleton. I don't know whether he thought me a little cracked or not, but he was very friendly and pleasant, and told me his plans, and hoped I would make another visit, and smoothed his beaver, and let me see his tailcoat, and behaved himself like a dear, conceited, clever boy. He did not allude to our love passages being shy, and I blessed him for it. For really, I don't know what rash thing I might have done under the exciting circumstances. As he was going, however, he forgot his cherished hat for a minute, put out both hands, and said heartily with his old boyish laugh, Now you will come, and will go boating and burying, and all the rest of it again, won't we? The blue eyes were full of fun, and feeling too, I fancied, as I blushingly retired behind my locks and gave the promise. But I never went, and never saw my little lover any more. For in a few weeks he was dead of a fever, brought on by too much study, and so ended the sad history of my fourth boy. After this, for many years, I was a boyless being, but was so busy I did not feel my destitute condition till I went to the hospital during the war, and found my little sergeant. His story has been told elsewhere, but the sequel to it is a pleasant one. For Baby B. still writes to me now and then, asks advice about his future, and gladdens me with good news of his success as a businessman in Kansas. As if to atone for the former dearth, a sudden shower of most superior boys fell upon me, after I recovered from my campaign, some of the very best sort it was my fortune to know and like. Real gentlemen, yet boys still. And jolly times they had, stirring up the quiet old town with their energetic society. There was W. a stout, amiable youth, who would stand in the middle of a strawberry patch with his hands in his pockets, and let us feed him luxuriously. B. a delightful scape-grace, who came once a week to confess his sins, beat his breast into spare, vow awful vows of repentance, and then cheerfully depart to break every one of them in the next twenty-four hours. S. the gentle-hearted giant, J. the dandy, sober and sensible B, and E. the young knight without reproach or fear. My a special boy of the batch was A. Proud and cold, and shy to other people. Sad and serious sometimes when his good heart and tender conscience showed him his shortcomings, but so grateful for sympathy and a kind word. I could not get at him as easily as I could the other lads, but thanks to Dickens, I found him out at last. We played Dolphus and Sophie Teterby in The Haunted Man at one of the school festivals, and during the rehearsals I discovered that my Dolphus was, permit the expression, O well-bred reader, a Trump.  From that time he has been my Dolphus and I his Sophie, and my yellow-haired laddie don't forget me, though he has a younger Sophie now, and some small Teterbees of his own. He writes just the same affectionate letters as he used to do, though I, less faithful, am too busy to answer them. But the best and dearest of all my flock was my Polish boy, Ladislas Wisniewski. Two hiccups in a sneeze will give you the name perfectly. Six years ago, as I went down to my early breakfast at our pension in Wewe, I saw that a stranger had arrived. He was a tall youth of eighteen or twenty, with a thin, intelligent face, and the charmingly polite manners of a foreigner. As the other borders came in one by one they left the door open, and a draft of cold autumn air blew in from the stone corridor, making the newcomer cough, shiver, and cast wistful glances towards the warm corner by the stove. My place was there, and the heat often oppressed me, so I was glad of an opportunity to move. A word to Madame Vuldoes affected the change, and at dinner I was rewarded by a grateful smile from the poor fellow, as he nestled into his warm seat after a pause of surprise and a flush of pleasure at the small kindness from a stranger. We were too far apart to talk much, but as he filled his glass, the pole bowed to me, and said, low in French, I drink the good health to Madame Ozil. I returned the wish, but he shook his head with a sudden shadow on his face, as if the words meant more than mere compliment to him.  I must see to him, I said to myself, as I met him in the afternoon, and observed the military look of his blue and white suit as he touched his cap and smiled pleasantly. I have a weakness for brave boys in blue, and having discovered that he had been in the late Polish Revolution, my heart warmed to him at once. That evening he came to me in the salon, and expressed his thanks in the prettiest broken English I ever heard. So simple, frank, and grateful was he, that a few words of interest won his little story from him, and in a half hour we were friends. With his fellow students he had fought through the last outbreak, and suffered imprisonment and hardship rather than submit, had lost many friends, his fortune and his health, and at twenty, lonely, poor, and ill, was trying bravely to cure the malady which seemed fatal. If I recover myself of this affair in the chest, I teach the music to acquire my bread in this so hospitable country. At Paris, my friends, all too, find a refuge, and I go to them in spring if I die not here. Yes, it is solitary, and my memories are not gay, but I have my work, and the good God remains always to me, so I content myself with much hope, and I wait. Such genuine piety and courage increased my respect in regard immensely, and a few minutes later he added to both by one of the little acts that show character better than words. He told me about the massacre, when five hundred poles were shot down by Cossacks in the marketplace merely because they sung their national hymn. Play me that forbidden air, I said, wishing to judge of his skill, for I had heard him practicing softly in the afternoon. He rose willingly, then glanced about the room, and gave a little shrug which made me ask what he wanted. I looked to see if the Baron is here. He is Russian, and to him my national air will not be pleasing. Then play it. He dare not forbid it here, and I should rather enjoy that little insult to your bitter enemy, said I, feeling very indignant with everything Russian just then. Ah, mademoiselle! It is true we are enemies, but we are also gentlemen, returned the boy, proving that he at least was one. I thanked him for his lesson and politeness, and as the Baron was not there he played the beautiful hymn, singing it enthusiastically in spite of the danger to his weak lungs. A true musician evidently, for as he sung his pale face glowed, his eyes shone, and his lost figure seemed restored to him. From that evening we were fast friends, for the memory of certain dear lads at home made my heart open to this lonely boy, who gave me in return the most grateful affection and service. He begged me to call him Varjo as his mother did. He constituted himself my escort, errand boy, French teacher, and private musician, making those weeks indefinitely pleasant by his winning ways, his charming little confidences, and faithful friendship. We had much fun over our lessons, for I helped him about his English. With a great interest in free America, and an intense longing to hear about our war, the barrier of an unknown tongue did not long stand between us. Beginning with my bad French and his broken English, we got on capitally, but he outdid me entirely making astonishing progress though he often slapped his forehead with a despairing exclamation, I am imbecile, I never can will shall to have learned this beast of English, but he did, and in a month had added a new language to the five he already possessed. His music was the delight of the house, and he often gave us little concerts with the help of Madden Tablin, a German Saint Cecilia, with a cropped head and a gentleman-leak sack, cravat and collar. Both were enthusiasts, and the longer they played the more inspired they got. The piano vibrated, the stools creaked, the candles danced in their sockets, and everyone sat mute while the four white hands chased one another up and down the keys, and the two fine faces beamed with such ecstasy that we almost expected to see the instrument and performers disappear in a musical whirlwind. Lake Le Mans will never seem so lonely again as when Laddie and I roamed about its shores, floated on its bosom, or laid splendid plans for the future in the sunny garden of the old Chateau. I tried it again last year, but the charm was gone, for I missed my boy with his fun, his music, and the frank, fresh affection he gave to his little mama, as he insisted on calling the lofty spinster who loved him like a half a dozen grandmothers rolled into one. December roses blossomed in the gardens then, and Laddie never failed to have a posy ready for me at dinner. Few evenings passed without confidences in my corner of the salon, and I still have a pile of merry little notes which I used to find tucked under my door. He called them chapters of a great history we were to write together, and being a pôle sang, he illustrated it with droll pictures and a funny mixture of French and English romance. It was very pleasant, but like all pleasant things in this world of change, it soon came to an end. When I left for Italy, we jokingly agreed to meet in Paris the next May, but neither really felt that we should ever meet again, for Laddie hardly expected to outlive the winter, and I felt sure I should soon be forgotten. As he kissed my hand there were tears in my boy's eyes, and a choke in the voice that tried to say cheerfully, Bon voyage, dear and good little mamma, I do not say adieu, but au revoir. Then the carriage rolled away, the wistful face vanished, and nothing remained to me but the memory of Laddie, and a little stain on my glove where a drop had fallen. As I drew near Paris six months later, and found myself wishing that I might meet Bargeau in the great gay city, and wondering if there was any chance of my doing it, I never dreamed of seeing him so soon. But as I made my way among the crowd of passengers that poured through the station, feeling tired, bewildered and homesick, I suddenly saw a blue and white cap wave wildly in the air, then Laddie's beaming face appeared, and Laddie's eager hands grasped mine so cordially that I began to laugh at once, and felt that Paris was almost as good as home. Aha! Behold the little mamma who did not think to see her bad son! Yes, I am greatly glad that I make the fine surprise for you as you come all weary to this place of noise. Give to me the billets, for I am still mademoiselle's servant, and go to find the coffers. He got my trunks, put me into a carriage, and as we rolled merrily away, I asked how he chanced to meet me so unexpectedly. Knowing where I intended to stay, he had called occasionally till I notified madame D. of the day and hour of my arrival, and then he had come to make the fine surprise.  You are better, I said. I truly hope so. The winter was good to me, and I cough less. It is a small hope, but I do not enlarge my fear by a sad face.  I would not hear of that, and told him he looked as well and happy as if he had found a fortune. He laughed and answered with his fine bow, I have. Behold, you come to make the fett for me. I find also here my friends Joseph and Napoleon, poor as mouses of the church, as you say, but brave boys, and we work together with much gaiety. When I asked if he had leisure to be my guide about Paris, for my time was short and I wanted to see everything, he pranced, and told me he had promised himself a holiday, and had planned many excursions the most wonderful, charming, and gay. Then, having settled me at Madame's, he went blithely away to what I afterwards discovered were very poor lodgings across the river. Next day began the pleasantest fortnight in all my year of travel. Laddie appeared early, elegant to behold in a new hat and buff gloves, and was immensely amused because the servant informed me that my big son had arrived. I believe the first thing a woman does in Paris is to buy a new bonnet. I did, or rather stood by and let my son do it in the best of French, only whispering when he proposed gorgeous chapos full of flowers and feathers that I could not afford it. Ah! We must make our economies, must we? See then, this modest pearl-colored one with the crepe rose. Yes, we will have that, and be most elegant for the Sunday promenade. I fear I should have bought a pea-green hat with a yellow plume if he had urged it, so weadlesome and drolled were his ways and words. His good taste saved me, however, and the modest one was sent home for the morrow, when we were to meet Joseph and Napoleon and go to the concert in the Tuileries' Garden. Then we set off on our day of sight-seeing, and Laddie proved himself an excellent guide. We had a charming trip about the enchanted city, a gay lunch at a café, and a first brief glimpse of the Louvre. At dinnertime I found a posy at my place, and afterward Laddie came and spent the evening in my little salon, playing to me and having what he called babblings and pleasantries. I found that he was translating Vanity Fair into Polish, and intended to sell it at home. He convulsed me with his struggles to put cockney English and slang into good Polish, for he had saved up a list of words for me to explain to him. Haystack and Beanpot were among them, I remember, and when he had mastered the meanings he fell upon the sofa exhausted. Other days like this followed, and we led a happy life together, for my twelve years' seniority made our adventures quite proper, and I fearlessly went anywhere on the arm of my big son. Not to theatres or balls, however, for heated rooms were bad for Laddie, but pleasant trips out of the city in the bright spring weather, quiet strolls in the gardens, moon-like concerts on the Chandeliers, or best of all, long talks with music in the little red salon, with the gas turned low, and the ever-changing scenes of the rude derivoli under the balcony. Never were pleasures more cheaply purchased or more thoroughly enjoyed, for our hearts were as light as our purses, and our little economies gave zest to our amusements. Joseph and Napoleon sometimes joined us, and I felt in my element with the three invalid soldier-boys, for Napoleon still lemped with a wound received in the war. Joseph had never recovered from his two years' imprisonment in an Austrian dungeon, and Laddie's loyalty might yet cost him his life. Thanks to them, I discovered a joke played upon me by my polissan. He told me to call him Madrocha, saying it meant my friend in Polish. I innocently did so, and he seemed to find great pleasure in it, for his eyes always laughed when I said it. Using it one day before the other lads, I saw a queer twinkle in their eyes, and suspecting mischief demanded the real meaning of the words. Laddie tried to silence them, but the joke was too good to keep, and I found to my dismay that I had been calling him my darling in the tenderest manner. How the three rascals shouted, and what a vain struggle it was to try and preserve my dignity when Laddie clasped his hands in begpardon, explaining that jokes were necessary to his health, and he never meant me to know the full baseness of this pleasantry. I revenged myself by giving him some bad English for his translation, and telling him of it just as I left Paris. It was not all fun with my boy, however. He had his troubles, and in spite of his cheerfulness he knew what heartache was. Walking in the quaint garden of the Luxembourg one day, he confided to me the little romance of his life. A very touching little romance, as he told it, with eloquent eyes and voice and frequent pauses for breath. I cannot give his words, but the simple facts were these. He had grown up with a pretty cousin, and at eighteen was desperately in love with her. She returned his affection, but they could not be happy, for her father wished her to marry a richer man. In Poland, to marry without the consent of parents is to incur lasting disgrace. So Leonora bade, and the young pair parted. This had been a heavy sorrow to Ladi, and he rushed into the war hoping to end his trouble. Do you ever hear from your cousin, I ask, as he walked beside me, looking sadly down the green aisles where kings and queens had loved and parted years ago? I only know that she suffers still, for she remembers. Her husband submits to the Russians, and I despise him as I have no English to tell, and he clenched his hands with the flash of the eye, and sudden kindling of the whole face that made him handsome. He showed me a faded little picture, and when I tried to comfort him, he laid his head down on the pedestal of one of the marble queens who guard the walk, as if he never cared to lift it up again. But he was all right in a minute, and bravely put away his sorrow with the little picture. He never spoke of it again, and I saw no more shadows on his face till he came to say goodbye. You have been so kind to me, I wish I had something beautiful to give you, Ladi, I said, feeling that it would be hard to get on without my boy. This time it is for always, so as a parting souvenir give to me the sweet English goodbye. As he said this, with a despairing sort of look, as if he could not spare even so humble a friend as myself, my heart was quite rent within me, and regardless of several prim English ladies, I drew down his tall head and kissed him tenderly, feeling that in this world there were no more meetings for us. Then I ran away and buried myself in an empty railway carriage, hugging the little cologne bottle he had given me. He promised to write, and for five years he has kept his word, sending me from Paris and Poland cheery bright letters in English at my desire, so that he might not forget. Here is one as a specimen. My dear and good friend, what do you think of me that I do not write so long time? Excuse me, my good mama, for I was so busy in these days I could not do this pleasant thing. I write English without the fear that you laugh at it, because I know it is more agreeable to read the own language, and I think you are not accepted of this rule. It is good of me, for the expressions of love and regard, made with faults, take the funny appearance. They are ridicule, and instead to go to the heart they make the laugh. Never mind, I do it. You cannot imagine yourself how stupide is Paris when you are gone. I fly to my work and make no more fits. It is too sad alone. I tie myself to my table and my vanity, not of mine, for I am not vain, am I? I wish some chapters to finish themselves feet, that I send them to Pologne and know the end. I have a little question to ask of you, of vanity as always. I cannot translate this. No one of dictionaires makes me the words, and I think it is jargande prison, this little period. Behold. Mopi, is that your snum? Nubble your dad and gully the dog, etc. So funny things I cannot explain myself, so I send to you, and you reply sooner than without it, for you have so kind interest in my work, you do not stay to wait.  My doctor tells me my lungs are soon to be re-established, so you may imagine yourself how glad I am, and have more courage in my future. You may one day see your varjo in America if I study commerce as I wish. So then the last time of seeing ourselves is not the last. Is that to please you? I suppose the grand histoire is finished n'est pas?  Now we are dispersed in two sides of the world far apart. For soon I go home to Pologne, and I'm no more juf errant. It is now time I work at my life in some useful way, and I do it. As I am your grand fee, it is proper that I make you my complement of Happy Christmas and New Year, is it not? I wish for you so many as they may fulfill a long human life. May this year bring you more and more good hearts to love you, the only real happiness in the hard life, and may I be as now yours for always. A year ago he sent me his photograph and a few lines. I acknowledged the receipt of it, but since then not a word has come, and I begin to fear that my boy is dead. Others have appeared to take his place, but they don't suit, and I keep his corner always ready for him if he lives. If he is dead, I am glad to have known so sweet and brave a character, for it does one good to see even a short-lived and obscure a hero as my Polish boy, whose dead December rose embalms for me the memory of Barcavie, the last and dearest of my boys. It is hardly necessary to add, for the satisfaction of inquisitive little women, that Ladi was the original of Laurie, as far as a pale, pen and ink sketch could embody a living, loving boy. CHAPTER II of Ancho Scrap Bag This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Lisa Meyers. Ancho Scrap Bag by Louise and May Alcott. CHAPTER II TESSA SURPRISE PART I Little Tessa sat alone by the fire, waiting for her father to come home from work. The children were fast asleep, all four in the big bed behind the curtain. The wind blew hard outside, and the snow beat on the window panes. The room was large, and the fire was so small and feeble that it didn't have warm little bare toes peeping out of the old shoes on the heart. Tessa's father was an Italian plaster worker, very poor but kind and honest. The mother had died not long ago and left 12 year old Tessa to take care of the little children. She tried to be very wise and motherly and worked for them like any little woman, but it was so hard to keep the small body's warm and fed and the small souls good and happy that poor Tessa was often at her wits end. She always waited for her father, no matter how tired she was, so that he might find his supper warm, a bit of fire and a loving little face to welcome him. Tessa thought over her troubles at these quiet times and made her plans for her father left things to her a good deal and she had no friends but Tomo, the heart boy upstairs and the lively cricket who lived in the chimney. Tonight her face was very sober and her pretty brown eyes were very thoughtful as she stared at the fire and knit her brows as if perplexed. She was not thinking of her old shoes nor the empty closet nor the boys ragged clothes. Just then, no, she had a fine plan in her good little head and was trying to discover how she could carry it out. You see, Christmas was coming in a week and she had set her heart on putting something in the children's stockings as the mother used to do. For while she lived things were comfortable. Now Tessa had not a penny in the world and didn't know how to get one for all the father's earnings had to go for food, fire, and rent. If only there were fairies, how heavenly that would be for then I should tell them all I wish and pop, behold the fine things in my lap said Tessa to herself. I must earn the money and there was no one to give it to me and I could not beg.  I must find some way to give the little ones a nice Christmas. I must, I must, I must. Tessa pulled her long hair as if that would help her think. But it didn't and her heart got heavier and heavier where it did seem hard that in a great city full of fine things there should be no one for poor Nono, Sep, and Little Speranza. Just as Tessa's tears began to tumble off her eyelashes onto her brown cheeks, the cricket began to chirp. Of course he didn't say a word, but it really did seem as if he answered her question almost as well as a fairy. For before he had piped a dozen shrill notes, an idea popped into Tessa's head. Such a truly splendid idea that she clapped her hands and burst out laughing. I'll do it, I'll do it, if father will let me, she said to herself, smiling and nodding at the fire. Tama will like to have me go with him and sing while he places harp in the streets. I know many songs and may get money if I am not frightened.  Yes, I will try and then if I do well, the little one shall have a merry Christmas. So full of her plan was Tessa that she ran upstairs at once and asked Tama if he would take her with him on the morrow. Her friend was very delighted if he thought Tessa's songs very sweet and was sure she would get money if she tried. But see then it is cold in the streets, the wind bites and the snow freezes one's fingers. The day is very long, people are cross and at night one is ready to die with weariness. Thou art so small, Tessa, and I'm afraid it will go badly with thee, said Tama, who is a merry black-eyed boy of fourteen with the kindest heart in the world under his old jacket. I do not mind cold and wet and cross people if I can get the pennies, answered Tessa, feeling very brave with such a friend to help her. She thanked Tama and ran away to get ready, for she felt sure her father would not refuse her anything. She sewed up the holes in her shoes as well as she could, for she had much of that sort of cobbling to do. She mended her only gown and laid ready the old hood and shawl which had been her mother's. Then she washed out little Ranz's frock and put it to dry because she would not be able to do it the next day. She set the table and got things ready for breakfast, for Tama went out early and must not be kept waiting for her. She longed to make the beds and dressed the children overnight. She was in such a hurry to have all in order. But as that could not be, she sat down again and tried over all the songs she knew. Six pretty ones were chosen and she sang away with all her heart in a fresh little voice so sweetly that the children smiled in their sleep and her father's tired voice brightened as he entered, for Tessa was his cheery cricket on the hearth. When she had told her plan, Peter Benari shook his head and thought it would never do. But Tessa begged so hard, he consented at last that she should try it for one week and sent her to bed the happiest little girl in New York. Next morning the sun shone but the cold wind blew and the snow lay thick in the streets. As soon as her father was gone, Tessa flew about and put everything in nice order, telling the children she was going out for the day and they were to mind Tama's mother, who would see about the fire and the dinner. For the good woman loved Tessa and entered into her little plans with all her heart. Nono and Giuseppe or sepis, they called and wondered what she was going away for and little Ransa cried as being left. But Tessa told them they would know all about it in a week and have a fine time if they were good. So they kissed her all around and let her go. Poor Tessa's heart beat fast as she trudged away with Tama who slung his heart over his shoulder and gave her his hand. It was rather a dirty hand, but so kind that Tessa clung to it and kept looking up at the friendly brown face for encouragement. We go first to the cafe where many French and Italian eat breakfast. They like my music and often give me sips of hot coffee which I like much.  See now, have no fear, give them Bellamonica. That is Marion will make the laugh, whispered Tama, tuning his harp. For a moment Tessa felt so frightened that she wanted to run away, but she remembered the empty stockings at home and the fine plan and she resolved not to give up. When a faddled Frenchman nodded to her and it seemed to help her very much, for she began to sing before she thought and that was the hardest part of it. Her voice trembled and her cheeks grew redder and redder as she went on, but she kept her eyes fixed on her old shoes and so got through without breaking down which is very nice. The people laughed for the song was Mary and the fat man smiled and nodded again. This gave her courage to try another and she sang better and better each time for Tama played his best and kept whispering to her, yes we go well, this is fine. They will give the money and the blessed coffee. So they did for when the little concert was over, several men put pennies in the cap tessa offered and the fat man took her on his knee and ordered a mug of coffee and some bread and butter for them both. This quite won her heart and when they left the cafe she kissed her hand to the old Frenchman and said to her friend how kind they are, I like this very much and now it is not hard. But Tama shook his curly hat and answered soberly, yes I took you there first for they love music and are of our country but up among the great houses we shall not always do well. The people there are busy or hard or idle and there can nothing for harps and songs. Do not skip and left too soon for the day is long and we have but 12 pennies yet. Tessa walked more quietly and rubbed her cold hands feeling that the world was a very big place and wondering how the children got on at home without the little mother. Till noon they did not earn very much for everyone seemed in a hurry and the noise of many sleigh bells drowned the music. Slowly they made their way up the great squares where the big houses were with fine ladies and pretty children at the windows. Here Tessa sung all her best songs and Tama played as fast as his fingers could fly but it was too cold to have the windows open so the pretty children could not listen long and the ladies tossed out a little money and soon went back to their own affairs. All the afternoon the two friends wandered about singing and playing and gathering up their small harvest. At dusk they went home. Tessa so hoarse she could hardly speak and so tired she fell asleep over her supper. But she had made half a dollar for Tama divided the money fairly and she felt rich with her share. The other days were very much like this. Sometimes they made more sometimes less but Tama always went halves and Tessa kept on in spite of cold and wariness for her plans grew as her earnings increased and now she hoped to get useful things instead of candy and toys alone. Before Christmas she made herself as tidy as she could for she hoped to earn a good deal.  Tama's mother lent her a pair of boots so big that they turned up at the toes but there were no holes in them and Tessa felt quite elegant in whole boots. Her hands were covered with chillblains for she had no mittens but she had put them under her shawl and shuffled merrily away in her big boots feeling so glad that the week was over and nearly three dollars safe in her pocket. How gay the streets were that day how brisk everyone was and how bright the faces looked as people trotted about with big baskets holly wreaths and young evergreens going to blossom into splendid Christmas trees. If I could have a tree for the children I'd never want anything again but I can't so I'll fill the socks all full and be happy said Tessa as she looked wistfully into the gay stores and saw the heavy baskets go by. Who knows what may happen if we do well returned Tama nodding wisely for he had planned as well as Tessa and kept chuckling over it as he trudged through the mud. They did not do well somehow for everyone seemed so full of their own affairs that they could not stop to listen even to Bella Monica but bustled away to spend their money in turkey toys and trees. In the afternoon it began to rain and poor Tessa's heart to fail her for the big boots tired her feet and the cold wind made her hands ache and the rain spoiled the fine red handkerchief. Even Tama looked sober and didn't whistle as he walked for he also was disappointed and his plan looked rather doubtful the pennies came in so slowly.  Come let me wipe thy face and give me thy hand here in my jacket pocket there will be as warm as any kitten and kind Tama brushed away the drops which were not all rain from Tessa's cheeks tucked the poor hand into his ragged pocket and let her carefully along the slippery streets for the boots nearly tripped her up. At the first house a cross old gentleman flapped his newspaper at them. At the second a young gentleman and lady were so busy talking that they never turned their heads and at the third a servant came out and told them to go away because someone was sick. At the fourth some people let them sing all their songs and gave nothing. The next three houses were empty and the last of all showed not a single face as they looked up anxiously. It was so cold so dark and discouraging the Tessa couldn't help one sob and as he glanced down at the little red nose and a wet figure beside him Tomo gave his harp an angry thump and said something very fierce an Italian. They were just going to turn away but they didn't for that angry thump happened to be the best thing they could have done. All of a sudden a little head appeared at the window as if the sound had brought it. Then another and another till there were five of all heights and colors and five eager faces peeped out smiling and nodding to the two below. Sing Tessa sing quick quick cried Tomo twanging away with all his might and showing his white teeth as he smiled back at the little gentlefolk. Bless us how Tessa did tune up at that. She turped away like a real bird forgetting all about the tears on her cheeks the ache in her hands and the heaviness in her heart. The children laughed and clapped their hands and cried more and more sing another little girl please do and away they went piping and playing till Tessa's breath was gone and Tomo's stout fingers tingled well. Mama says come to the door it's too muddy to throw the money into the street cried out a kindly child's voice as Tessa held up the old cap with beseeching eyes. Up the wide stone steps went the street musicians and the whole flock came running down to give a handful of silver and ask all sorts of questions. Tessa felt so grateful that without waiting for Tomo she sang her sweetest little song all alone. It was about a lost lamb and her heart was in the song. Therefore she sang it well so well that a pretty young lady came down to listen and stood watching the bright eyed girl who looked about her as she sang evidently enjoying the light and warmth of the fine hall and the sight of the lovely children with their gay dresses shining hair and dainty shoes. You have a charming voice child who taught you to sing as the young lady kindly. My mother she is dead now but I do not forget as answered Tessa in her pretty broken English. I wish she could sing at our tree since Bella is ill cried one of the children peeping through the banisters. She is not fair enough to be the angel and too large to go up in the tree but she sings sweetly and looks as if she would like to see a tree said the young lady. Oh so much exclaimed Tessa adding eagerly my sister Ranza is small and pretty as a baby angel. She could sit up in the fine tree and I could sing for her for my under the table.    I'll ask Mama said Rose in a way she went into the dining room close by. As the door opened Tessa saw what looked to her like a fairy feast all silver mugs and flowery plates and oranges and nuts and rosy wine and tall glass pictures and smoking dishes that smelled so deliciously she could not restrain a little sniff of satisfaction. Are you hungry? asked the boy in a grand tone. Yes sir. Meagly answered Tessa. I say Mama she wants something to eat. Can I give her an orange called the boy prancing away into the splendid room quite like a fairy prince Tessa thought. A plump motherly lady came out and looked to Tessa asked a few questions and then told her to come tomorrow Tessa clapped her hands for joy. She didn't mind the chillblanes now and Tomo played a lively march she was so pleased. Will you come to and bring your heart you shall be paid and shall have something from the tree likewise said the motherly lady who liked what Tessa gratefully told about his kindness to her. Ah yes I shall come with much gladness and play as never in my life before cried Tomo with a flourish of the old cap that made the children laugh. Give these to your brothers said the fairy prince stuffing nuts and oranges into Tessa's hands. And these to the little girl added one of the young princesses flying out of the dining room with cakes and rosy apples for Anza. Tessa didn't know what to say but her eyes were full and she just took the mother's white hands and both her grimy ones and kissed it many times in her pretty Italian fashion. The lady understood her and stroked her cheeks softly saying to her elder daughter we must take care of this good little creature. Freddie bring me your mittens these the children ran in a minute there were lovely blue mittens on the red hands a warm hood over the black braids and a soft pussy around the sore throat. Ah so kind so very kind I have no way to say thank you but runs and she'll be for you a heavenly angel and I will sing my heart out for your treat right Tessa folding the mittens as if she would say a prayer of thankfulness if she knew how then they went away and the pretty children called after them come again now the rain didn't seem dismal the wind cold nor the way long as they bought their gifts and hurried home for kind words and sweet magic of charity had changed all the world to them I think the good spirits who fly about on Christmas Eve to help the loving fillers of little stockings smelled very kindly on Tessa as she brooded joyfully over the small story of presence seems so magnificent to her all the goodies were divided evenly into three parts and stowed away and father's three big socks which hung against the curtain with a three dollars she had got a pair of shoes for Nono a knit cap for sep and a pair of white stockings for Ranza to her she also gave the new hood to Nono the mittens and to sep the tippet now the dear boys can go out and my Ranza will be ready for the lady to see and her nice new things said Tessa quite sighing with pleasure to see how well the gift looks pinned up beside the bulging stockings which wouldn't hold them all the little mother kept nothing for herself but the pleasure of giving everything away yet I think was both richer and happier than if she had kept them all her father laughed as he had not done since the mother died when he saw how comically the old curtain had broken out into boots and hoods and stockings and tippets I wish I had a gold gown and a silver hat for thee my tessa thou art so good may the saints bless and keep thee always said Peter Benari tunderly as he held his little daughter close and gave her the good night kiss Tessa felt very rich as she crept under the fated counter pain feeling as if she had received a lovely gift and fell happily asleep with Chabiranza in her arms and the two rough black heads peeping out at the foot of the bed she dreamed wonderful dreams that night and woke in the morning to find real wonders before her eyes she got up early to see if the socks were all right and there she found the most astonishing sight four socks instead of three and by the fourth pinned out quite elegantly was a little dress evidently meant for her a warm woolen dress all made and actually with bright buttons on it it nearly took her breath away so did the new boots on the floor and the funny long stocking like a gray sausage with a wooden doll staring out of the top as if she said politely a merry Christmas them Tessa screamed and danced in her delight and of tumble all the children to scream and dance with her making a regular carnival on a small scale everybody hugged and kissed everybody else offering sucks of orange bites of cake and exchanges of candy everyone of peacocks runs a skip to and fro airily dressed in her white socks and the red hood and the boys promenaded in their little shirts one with his creaking new shoes and mittens the other and his gay cap and fine tippet and Tessa put her dress straight on feeling that her father's gold gown was not all a joke in her long stocking she found all sorts of treasures for Tomo had stuffed at full of queer things and his mother had made gingerbread into every imaginable shape from fat pigs to full omnibuses dear me what happy little souls they were that morning and when they were quiet again how like a fairy tale did Tessa's story sound to them Ronzo was quite ready to be an angel and the boys promised to be marvelously good if they were only allowed to see the tree at the palace as they called the great house little Ronzo was accepted with delight by the kind lady and her children and Tessa learned the song quite easily the boys were asked and after a happy day the young Italian all returned to play their parts at the fine Christmas party Mama and Miss Rose drilled them all and when the folding doors flew open one rapture is oh arose from the crowd of children gathered to the festival I assure you it was splendid the great tree glittering with lights and gifts and on her invisible perch up among the green bows set the little golden haired angel all in white with downy wings a shining crown on her head and the most serene satisfaction to those below and smiled her baby smile at them before anyone could speak a voice as fresh and sweet as a lark sang the Christmas Carol so blithely that everyone stood still to hear and then clapped till the little angel shook on her perch and cried out be till or meal fall how they laughed at that and what fun they had talking to Ranza while Miss Rose stripped the tree for the angel could not resist temptation and amused herself by eating all the bonbons she could reach till she was taken down to dance about like a fairy in a white frock in red shoes Tessa and her friends had many presents the boys were perfect lamps Tomo played for the little folks to dance and everyone said something friendly to the strangers so they did not feel shy in spite of shabby clothes it was a happy night in all their lives they remembered it as something too beautiful and bright to be quite true before they went home the kind mama told Tessa she should be her friend and give her motherly kiss her child's heart and seem to set a seal upon that promise it was faithfully kept for the rich lady had been touched by Tessa's patient struggles and sacrifices and for many years thanks to her benevolence there was no end to Tessa's surprises End of Chapter 2 Recording by Lisa Meyers Chapter 3 of Aunt Joe's scrap bag this is a LibriVox recording please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Bridget Gage Aunt Joe's scrap bag by Louisa May Elcott Chapter 3 Buzz I live high up in a city house all alone my room is a cozy little place though there is nothing very splendid in it only my pictures and books my flowers and my little friend when I had more time to myself I often felt lonely when I ate my meals I used to wish for a pleasant companion to eat with me and when I sat by the fire of evenings I thought how much more social it would be if someone sat opposite I had many friends and callers through the day but the evenings were often rather dull for I couldn't read much and didn't care to go out in the stormy weather I was wishing and I saw a plump jolly looking fly he sat quietly staring at me with a mild little hum as if to say how are you you wanted a friend and here I am will you have me of course I would for I liked him directly he was so cheery and confiding and seemed as glad to see me as I was to see and less he should tumble off and feel hurt at my reception he seemed to understand me and buzzed again evidently saying thank you ma'am I should like to stay in your warm room and amuse you for my board I won't disturb you but do my best to be a good little friend so the bargain was struck and he stopped to tea I found that his manners had been neglected for he was inclined to walk a few taps with my spoon taught him to behave with more propriety and he sipped a drop of milk from the waiter with a crumb of sugar as a well-bred fly should do on account of his fine voice I named him buzz and we soon got on excellently together he seemed to like his new quarters and after exploring every corner of the room he chose his favorite haunts and began to enjoy like a little kettle getting ready to boil on sunny days he amused himself by bumping his head against the window and watching what went on outside it would have given me a headache but he seemed to enjoy it immensely up in my hanging basket of ivy he made his bower and sat there on the moss basking in the sunshine as luxuriously as any gentleman in his conservatory he was interested in the plants and examine them daily with great care walking over the ivy leaves grubbing under the moss and poking his head into the unfolding hyacinth buds to see how they got on the pictures also seemed to attract his attention for he spent much time skating over the glasses and studying the designs sometimes I would find him staring at my Madonna as if he said what in the world are all those topsy-turvy children about then he'd sit in the middle of a brook in a watercolor scratch by Vaughton eating the cherry which one little duck politely offers another little duck in Oscar Pletch's summer party he frequently kissed my mother's portrait and sat on my father's bald head as of trying to get out some of the wisdom stored up there like honey and an ill-thatched beehive my bronze mercury rather puzzled him for he could not understand why the young gentleman did not fly off when he had four wings and seemed in such a hurry I sat before the glass a great deal and I often saw him cleaning his proboscis and twiddling his feelers and I know he was pranking as we say the books pleased him too and he used to run them over as of trying to choose what he would read and never seemed able to decide he would have nothing to say to the fat French dictionary or my English plays but liked Goath and Schiller Emerson and Browning as well as I did Carlisle didn't read his head ache but Jean Ingello's poems delighted him and so did her stories told to a child fairy bells he often listened to and was very fond of the pictures and a photograph book of foreign places and great people he frequently promenaded on the pieza of a little Swiss chalet standing on the mantel piece and thought a charming residence for a single gentleman like himself the closet delighted him extremely pleased for we kept house together such rebels as he had in the sugar bowl such feasts of gingerbread and grapes such long sips of milk and sly peeps into every uncovered box and dish once I'm afraid he took too much cider for I found him lying on his back kicking and humming like a crazy top and he was very queer she stood just over the stove on one little toe rattling some castanets which made no sound and never getting a step farther for all her prancing this was a warm and pretty retreat for buzz and there he spent much of his time swinging on the ferns sleeping snugly in the vase or warming his feet in the hot air that blew up like a south wind from the stove I don't believe there was a happier fly he never got into mischief but sung his cheery song no matter what the weather was and made himself agreeable then he was so interested in all I did it was delightful to have him round when I wrote he came and walked about over my paper to see that it was right peeped into my ink stand and ran after my pen or played hide and seek in the folds of my work talking all the while in the most sociable manner he often flew up all of a sudden and danced about in the air as if he was in such a jolly mood he couldn't keep still and wanted me to come and play with him but alas I had no wings and could only sit stupidly still and laugh at his pranks that was his exercise for he never went out and only took a sniff of air now and then when I opened the windows well and I lived together many weeks and never got tired of one another which is saying a good deal at Christmas I went home for a week and left my room to take care of itself I put the hyacinths into the closet to be warm and dropped the curtain so the frost should not nip my ivy but I forgot Buzz I really would have taken him with me or carried him down to a neighbor's room to be taken care of while I was away even saying good-bye and never thought of my little friend till Freddy my small nephew said to me one evening at dusk Aunt Joe tell me a story so I began to tell him about Buzz and all of a sudden I cried out Mercy on me I'm afraid he'll die of cold while I'm gone it troubled me a good deal and I wanted to know how the poor little fellow was so much that I would have gone to see if I had not been so far away but it would be rather silly to look after one fly so I finished my visit and then went back to my room hoping to find Buzz alive and well in spite of the cold alas no my little friend was gone there he lay on his back on the mantelpiece his legs meekly folded and his wings stiff and still he had evidently gone to the warm place and been surprised when the heat died out and left him to freeze my poor little Buzz and gone where the good flies go I was very sorry and buried him among the ivy roots where the moss lay green above him the sun shown warmly on him and the bitter cold could never come I miss him very much when I sit writing I miss his cheerful voice and busy wings at meals there is no tiny little body to drink up spilt drops and eat the crumbs in the evenings when I sit alone I say softly grow green ivy lie lightly moss shine warmly sun and make his last bed pleasant to my little friend End of Chapter 3 Chapter 4 of Aunt Joe's scrap bag by Louisa May Alcott This is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain recording by Barbara Dirksen Aunt Joe's scrap bag by Louisa May Alcott Chapter 4 The Children's Joke You can't do this and you mustn't do that from morning to night try it yourself and see how you'd like it as he flung down I should like to mind my parents good children always do began Mr. Fairburn entirely forgetting the pranks of his boyhood as people are apt to glad I didn't know you then must have been a regular prig growl hairy under his breath silence sir go to your room and don't let me see you till you're sceptically on the stairs he met a sister kitty looking as crosses himself what's the matter with you he asked pausing a minute for misery loves company mama will make me dress up in a stiff clean frock and have my hair curled over again just because someone may come I want to play in the garden and I with a spiteful polluter sash I hate being ordered around everlastingly and badgered from morning till night I'd just like to be left alone and hairy went on his way to captivity with a grim shake of the head and a very strong desire to run away from home all together so would I mama is so fussy I never have any piece of my life to run the martyr in Brownman went up and the other martyr in White Cambridge went down both looking as they felt rebellious and unhappy yet a stranger seeing them in their home would have thought they had everything a heart could desire all the comforts that money could buy and all sorrow came to trouble the lives that would have been all sunshine but for one thing with the best intentions in the world Mr. and Mrs. Fairburn were spoiling their children by constant fault finding too many rules and too little sympathy with the act of young souls and bodies under their care as hairy said they were unable to enter their heads now in the house was a quiet old maiden aunt who saw the mischief brewing and tried to cure it by suggesting more liberty and less nagging as the boys call it but Mr. and Mrs. Aff always silenced her by saying my dear Betsy had a flock of motherless brothers and sisters and done it wisely and well though she never got any thanks or praise for it and never expected any for doing her duty faithfully if it had not been for auntie Harry and Kitty would have long ago carried out their favourite plan and have run away together like Roland and Maybird in trouble times for all her quiet ways auntie was full of fun as well as sympathy and patience and she smoothed the thorny road to virtue with the innocent and kindly little arts that make some people as useful and beloved as good fairy godmothers were and spirits were depressed by a long day of restraint and they sat like well-bred mutes languidly eating their supper it's the warm weather they need something bracing I'll give them a dose of iron mixture tomorrow said mama I've taken enough to make a cooking stove-browned Kitty who hated being dosed if you let me go swimming every night I will not let you do it for you will get drowned as sure as you try said mama who was so timid she had panicked the minute her boy was out of sight and Betsy little boys go and they never came to grief began hairy and Betsy's ideas and mine differ children are not brought up now yes and girls too playing anything they liked and not rigged up and plagued with company-cried Kitty with sudden interest what do you mean by that asked papa good-naturedly for somehow his youth returned to him for a minute and seemed very pleasant the children could not explain very well but hairy said slowly if you were in our places for a day you'd see what we mean wouldn't it be worth your while to try the experiment said aunt Betsy with a smile papa and mama laughed at the idea but looked sober when auntie added why not put yourselves in their places for a day and see how you like it I think you'd understand the case better than anyone could describe it and perhaps do both yourselves say to it mama and papa looked much amused I'm willing to try it if you are just for the fun of the thing but I don't think it'll do any good and mama shook her head as if aunt Betsy's plan was a wild one the children sat quiet speechless with surprise at the singular proposal but as its full richness dawned upon them they skipped in their chairs and clapped how do you propose to carry out this new educational frolic asked papa beginning to feel some curiosity as to the part he was to play merely let the children do as they like for one day and have full power over you let them plan your duties and pleasures order your food fix your hours and punish or reward you as they think proper you must promise entire obedience and keep the agreement till night good good oh won't it be fun cried harry and kitty applauding enthusiastically while papa and mama looked rather sober as the plan was developed before them tomorrow is a holiday for us all and we might celebrate it by this funny experiment it will amuse us and do us no harm at any rate added auntie quite in promise and see what these robes would do for us playing father and mother is no joke mind you but you will have an easier time of it than we do for we shall behave ourselves said papa with a virtuous expression mama agreed and the supper ended merrily for everyone was full of curiosity as to the success of the new play harry aunt betsey paid each a short visit before they slept and it is supposed that she laid out the order of performances and told each what to do for the little people would never have thought of so many sly things if left to themselves at seven the next morning as mama was in her dressing room just putting on her cool easy careless untidy girl put on a clean dress do up your hair properly and go and practice half hour before breakfast at first mama looked as if inclined to refuse but kitty was firm and with a sigh mama wrestled into a stiff scratchy french print and took a parlor and set to learning a hard piece of music can't I have my early cup of tea and my roll she asked eating between meals is a very bad habit and I can't allow it said kitty in the tone her mother often used to her I quite out of tune herself Harry found papa enjoying the last delightful dose that makes bed so fascinating of a morning as if half afraid to try the experiment the boy slowly approached and gave the sleeper a sudden hard shake saying briskly come come lazy bones he remembered and upset Harry's gravity by whining out come you let me alone it isn't time yet and I'm so tired Harry took the joke and assuming the stern of his father on such occasions said impressively you have been called and now if you're not down in 15 minutes you won't have any breakfast not a morsel sir sitting his father's watch he retired to giggle all the way downstairs when the breakfast bell rang mama hurried into the dining room longing for her tea but kitty sat behind the urn and said gravely go back and enter the room properly will you never learn food for fresh trout and muffins no fish or hot bread for you my dear eat your good oatmeal porridge and milk that is the proper food for children can't I have some tea cried mama in despair for without it she felt quite lost certainly not I was never allowed with a relish poor mama quite groaned at this hard fate but meekly obeyed and ate the detested porridge understanding kitty's dislike to it at last Harry sitting in his father's chair read the paper and ate everything he could lay his hands on with a funny assumption of his father's morning manner Aunt Betsy looked on much amused and now nicely breakfast was about half over when papa came in and was about to take Harry's place when his son said trying vainly to look grave as he showed the watch what did I tell you sir you are late again sir no breakfast sir I'm sorry but this habit must be broken up not a word it's your own fault and you must bear I'm awful hungry can I just have a bite of something as papa quite taken aback at his stern decree I said not a morsel and I shall keep my word go to your morning duties and let this be a lesson to you papa cast a look at Aunt Betsy that was both comic and pathetic and departed without a word but he felt a sudden sympathy with his son who had often been sent fasting from small offence now it was that he appreciated auntie's kind heart and felt quite fond of her for in a few minutes she came to him as he raked the gravel walk Harry's duty every day and slipping a nice warm well buttered muffin into his hand said in her motherly way my dear do try and please your father he is right about late rising but I hope you like it and aunt Betsy walked away looking as if she enjoyed it extremely now put on your hat and draw baby up and down the avenue for a half an hour I hope you like it and aunt Betsy walked away looking as if she enjoyed the avenue for a half an hour don't go on the grass or you will wet your feet and don't play with baby I want her to go to sleep and don't talk to papa or he will neglect his work said kitty as they rose from the table now it was a warm morning and baby was heavy and the lady started mama to make me do it and mrs. fairburn hoped her play parent would relent but she did not and only answered with a meaning look I have to do it every day and you don't let me off mama said no more but put on her hat hold papa away to weed the lettuce bed and then shut him up in the study to get his lessons while he mounted the pony and trotted away to town to buy a new fishing rod and otherwise enjoy himself when mama came in hot and tired she was met by kitty with a bottle in one hand she was very stubborn then auntie will hold your hands and I shall make you but I don't like it I don't need it cried mama neither do I but you give it to me all the same I'm sure you need strengthening more than I do you have so many trials and kitty looked very sly as she and you know you promised entire obedience set a good example said auntie but I never thought these little chits would do so well oh how disagreeable it is and mama took her dose with a writhe face feeling that Aunt Betsy was siding with the wrong party and continued kitty much elated with her success rest of any sort was welcome so mama sewed busily till callers came they happened to be some little friends of kitties and she went to them in the parlor telling mama to go up to nurse and have her hair brushed and her dress changed Harry it out they agreed being ready for fun and not at all afraid of Mrs. Fairburn so when she came in they all began to kiss and cuddle and praise and pass her round as if she was a doll to her great discomfort and to the great amusement of the little girls while this was going on in the and nearly drove him distracted for Harry got out the hardest books he could find and selected the most puzzling subjects a dusty old history was rummaged out also and a classical research followed in which papa's memory played him false more than once calling forth rebukes from his very young tutor but he came no head for figures and not being a businessman had not troubled himself about the matter so Harry who was in fine practice utterly routed him in mental arithmetic by giving him regular puzzlers and when he got offered no help but shook his head and called him a stupid fellow the dinner bell he was faint with hunger but was helped last being only a boy and then checked every five minutes for eating too fast mama was very meek and only looked wistfully at the pie when told in her own words that pastry was bad for children any attempts at conversation were promptly quenched by the worn out old saying children should be seen not heard while Harry and kitty men enjoyed it to their hearts content especially the frequent pecs at their great children who to be even with them imitated all their tricks as well as they could don't whistle at your table keep your hands still mama wait till your help sir tuck your napkin in well and don't spill your soup Caroline and Betsy laughed at it for the others obeyed them in spite of their dislike to their new rules now you may play for two hours was the gracious order issued as they rose from the table mama fell upon a sofa exhausted and papa hurried to read his paper in the shady garden usually these hours of apparent concerns the children had mercy however and left them in peace which was a wise move on the whole for the poor souls found rest so agreeable they privately resolved to let the children alone in their play hours can I go over and see Mr. Hammond asked papa wishing to use up the last Harry with a sly twinkle of his eye as he turned the tables on his papa Mr. Fairburn gave a low whistle and retired to the barn where Harry followed him and ordered the man to harness up old bill going to drive sir asked papa respectfully don't ask questions was all the answer he got old bill was put up from her nap ready for her afternoon drive can't I go she asked as kitty came down in her new hat and gloves no there isn't room why not have the carry all and let us go to we'd like it so much said papa in the pleading tone Harry often used to burn within him and he said impatiently we can't be troubled with you the buggy is nicest and lightest and we want to talk over our affairs you my son can help John turn the hay on the lawn and Carolyn can amuse baby or help Jane with the preserves high glee leaving their parents to the distasteful tasks set before them Mrs Fairburn wanted to read but baby was fretful and there was no kitty to turn him over to so she spent her afternoon amusing the small tyrant while papa made hay in the sun and didn't like it just at people bread and milk was all they allowed their victims while they reveled in marmalade and cake fruit and tea I expect company this evening but I don't wish you to sit up Carolyn you're too young and late hours are bad for your eyes go to bed and don't forget to brush your hair and teeth well five minutes for each mosquito bars I will come and take away the light when I'm dressed kitty delivered this dread command with effect for she had heard and cried over it too often not to have it quite by heart but I can't go to bed at half past seven o'clock of a summer night I'm not sleepy and this is just the pleasantest time of the whole day said mama thinking I know what is best for you and kitty sent social wide awake mama to bed there to lie thinking soberly until mrs. kit came for the lamp have you had a happy day love she asked bending over the pillow as her mother used to do no mom then it was your own fault my child obey your parents remembering that tomorrow she would be on the other side and anything she might say now would be quoted against her but kitty understood and her heart melted as she hung her mother and said in her own caressing way for little mama did she have a hard time and didn't she like being a good girl it will be all right tomorrow I hope so and with a hearty kiss kitty went thoughtfully downstairs to meet several little friends whom she had asked to spend the evening with her as the ladies left the room papa leaned back and prepared to smoke a cigar feeling that he needed the comfort of it after this trying day but Harry was down upon him at once a very bad habit can't allow it throw that dirty thing away and go and get your Latin lesson for tomorrow the study is quiet and we want this room but I'm tired I can't study at night let me off till tomorrow please sir beg papa who had not looked at latin since he left school not a word sir I shall listen to no excuses and shall not let you neglect your education on any account and Harry slapped the table with manner Mr. Fariburn went away into the dull study and made believe to do his lesson but he really smoked and meditated the young folks had a grand revel and kept it up till 10 o'clock while mama lay awake longing to go down and see what they were about and papa shortly fell asleep quite exhausted by the society of a Latin grammar he tweaking him by the ear no it's the way you do and feeling that this day of bondage was over papa cast off his allegiance tucked a child under each arm and marched upstairs with them kicking and screaming setting them down at the nursery door he said shaking his finger at them in that awful manner wait a bit you rascals and see his own room and a minute after a great burst of laughter set their fears at rest it was a fair bergen so I'm not afraid said harry stoutly he kissed us good night though he did glower at us so I guess it was only fun out of kitty hasn't it been a funny well hear them talking in there and harry held up his finger for a steady murmur of conversation had followed the laughter in papa and mama's room I wonder if our joke will do any good said kitty thoughtfully wait and see answered aunt betsy popping her night capped head out of her room with a nod and a jose scrap bag by louisa may elcott read by barbara dirksen w w w dot la la line dot blog spot dot com chapter 5 of ant jose scrap bag this is a libra vox recording all libra vox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit libra vox dot org recording by megan conkel ant jose scrap bag by louisa may elcott chapter 5 dandelion down by the sea lived ben the fisherman with his wife and little son who was called dandelion because he wore yellow pinafores and had curly yellow hair that covered his head with a golden fuzz a very happy family for ben was kind and industrious heady his wife a cheerful busy creature and dandelion the jolliest three-year-old baby who ever made sand pies and paddled on the beach but one day a great trouble came to them ben and his fellow fishermen sailed blithely away as usual and heady watched the fleet of whitewing boats out of the bay thinking up pretty they looked with the sunshine on them while dandelion stood clapping his chubby hands and saying as he always did daddy tummin' soon but daddy did not come soon that time for a great storm arose and when some of the boats came scutting home at nightfall ben's was not among them all night the gale raged and in the morning ben's boat lay empty and broken on the shore his mates shook their heads when they saw the wreck and drew their rough hands over their eyes for ben was a good seaman and they knew he would never desert his boat alive they looked for him far and wide but could hear nothing of him and felt sure that he had perished in the storm they tried to comfort poor heady but she would not be comforted her heart seemed broken and if it had not been for her baby her neighbors feared that she would have gone to join ben in his grave under the sea dandelion didn't understand why everyone was so sad and why his father stayed away so long but he never lost his cheerfulness never gave up hoping or stopped saying with the contented smile daddy tummin' soon the sunshiney little face was heady's only comfort the sight of the fuzzy yellow head bobbing around the house alone made it indurable and the touch of the loving baby hands kept her from the despair which made her long to enter sorrow in the sea people don't believe in fairies nowadays nevertheless good spirits still exist and help us in our times of trouble better even than the little people we used to read about one of these household spirits is called love and it took the shape of dandelion to comfort poor heady another is called labor a beautiful happy spirit this is and it did its part so well that there was little time for bitter thoughts or vain regrets for heady's spinning wheel must go in order to turn bread for dandelion whose mouth was always ready for food like a hungry birds busy hum the wheel and as it flew it seemed to catch an echo of the baby's cheerful song saying over and over daddy's coming soon till heady stopped crying as she worked and listened to the cheerful whir yes I shall see my good ben again if I wait patiently baby takes comfort in saying that and I will too though the poor deer will get tired of it soon she said but dandelion didn't get tired he firmly believed what he said and nothing could change his mind he had been much troubled at seeing the boat laid up on the beach all broken and dismantled but his little mind couldn't take in the idea of shipwreck and death so after thinking it over he decided that daddy was waiting somewhere for a new boat to be sent to bring him home this idea was so strong that the child gathered together his store of toy boats for he had many as they were his favorite plaything and launched them one after another telling them to find his father and bring him home as dandelion allowed to play on the beach except it low tide the little boat sailed safely away on the receding waves and the child was sure that some of them would get safely into the distant port where daddy was waiting all the boats were launched at last all sailed bravely away but none came back and little dandy was much disappointed he babbled about it to himself told the peeps and the horseshoes the snails and the lobsters of his trouble begged the gold to fly away and find daddy and every windy night he would want the lamp put in the window as it used to be when they expected ben and tried to make the home look cheerful even before he got there had he used to humor the child though it made her heart ache to know that the light shone in vain at such times dandy would prance about the room in his little shirt and talk about daddy as happily as if long months had not passed without bringing him back when fairly in his big old fashioned cradle the boy would lie looking more like a dandelion than ever in his yellow shoe and fro calling the cradle his boat and why they'd telling his mother that he was sailing far away to find daddy when tired of play he lay still and asked her to sing to him she had no heart for the gay old sea song she used to sing for lullabies so she sung hymns in her soft motherly voice till the blue eyes closed and the golden head lay still looking so pretty with a cycle of bright hair above the rosy face my little saint had he called him and though he watched him the bitterness of her grief passed away and the patient hope came to her for the child's firm faith impressed her deeply the pious music of the sweet old hymns comforted her sore heart and daily labor kept her cheerful in spite of herself the neighbors wondered at the change that came over her but she could not explain it and no one knew that the three good spirits called love labor and hope were working their pleasant miracles six long months went by and no one ever thought of seeing Ben again his little son who still watched him here and his wife who waited to meet him hereafter one bright spring day something happened the house was as tidy as ever the wheel hummed briskly as had he sang softly to herself with a cheerful face though there were white hairs among the brown and her eyes had a thoughtful absent look at times dandelion more chubby and cheery than ever sat at her feet with the sunshine making a golden glory of his yellow hair as he tried his new boat for her little sailor or tugged away with his fat fingers at a big needle which he was trying to pull through a bit of cloth intended for a sail the faithful little soul had not forgotten his father but had come to the conclusion that the reason his boats never prospered was because they hadn't large enough sails so he was intent on rigging a new boat lately given to him with a sail that could not fail to waft Ben safely home with his mouth puckered up his downy without mind the stopping of the wheel when he fell into a river thinking of the happy time when she and Ben should meet again sitting so neither her to step comes softly over the sand neither saw an eager brown face peering at the door and neither knew for a minute that Ben was watching them with a love and longing in his heart that made him tremble like a woman dandelion saw him first for as he pulled his staring up at the tall man with his blue eyes so wide open they looked as if they should never shut again all of a sudden he shouted with a joyful shout Daddy's coming in the next instant vanished ship and all in the arms of the man who wore the rough jacket overwent the spinning wheel as had he vanished likewise and for a time there was nothing but sobbing and kissing and clinging to the irony in his boy on the other he told them how he was wrecked in the gale picked up by an outward brown ship and only able to get back after months of sickness and delay my body fetched him said dandelion feeling that everything had turned out just as he expected so it did my precious least ways your faith helped but a few great tears rolled down the rough blue jacket as he looked from the queer sail with his two big stitches to the little son whose love he firmly believed had kept him safe through many dangers and brought him home at last when the fine new boat was built no one thought it strange that Ben named it dandelion no one laughed at the little that which ended with the funny words daddy's coming soon end of chapter five chapter six of ant-joe's scrap bag this is the LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org recording by George Elto Madame Cluck and her family there never before her family of eight Downey little chicks Chanticleer Strut Snowball Speck Peep Peck Downey and Blot with their names and no sooner were they out of the shell then they began to chirp and scratch as gaily as if the big world in which they suddenly found themselves was made for their special benefit it was but they were her first and she didn't know how to manage them old ant cockle top told her that she didn't and predicted that those poor deers would come to bad ends ant cockle top was right as you will see when I have told the sad history of this unfortunate family the tragedy began with Chanty who was the boldest little cockadoodle who ever tried to crow before he had either to his bit of a tail Chanty began to fight and soon was known as the most quarrelsome chick in the farm yard having pecked his brothers and sisters he tried to do the same to his playmates the ducklings and young turkeys and was so disagreeable that all the fouls hated him one day he could beat Mr. Bantam easily he was so small and invited him to fight Mr. B declined then Chanty called him a coward and gave Mrs. B a peck which so enraged her spouse that he flew at Chanty like a game cock and a dreadful fight followed which ended in Chanty's utter defeat for he died from his wounds the ducklings would swing on the burdock leaves that grew over the brook sitting side by side the plump sisters were placidly swaying up and down over the clear brown water rippling below when ah said to relate the stem broke and down went leaf chickens and all it seems so for the very next week speckle the best in prettiest of the brood went to walk with ant cockatop grasshopping they called it in the great field across the road what a nice time speckle did have to be sure for the grasshoppers were lively and fat and ant was in an unusually white she went clucking through the grass with her gray turban wagging in the wind speckle had hopped away from a toad with a startle chirp which caused ant to utter that remark the words had hardly left her beak when a shadow made her look up give one danger stood her ground as a great hawk came circling nearer and nearer till with a sudden dart he pounced on the poor chicken and bore it away chirping dismal ant told me not to run oh dear oh dear what shall I do it was a dreadful blow to mrs. cluck and ant cockatop with the difference between her preaching and her practice strut the other son was the vainest chick ever and the great aim of his life was to crow louder than any other cock in the neighborhood he was added from morning till night and everyone was tired to death of hearing his shrill small voice make funny attempts to produce with the effort ah if I could only fly to the highest beam in the barn and give a splendid crow that everyone could hear I should be perfectly happy said the silly little foul as he stared up at the loft where the old cock often sat so he tried every day to fly in crow and at last managed to get up then how he watched him you'll fall and get hurt said his sister blocked hold your tongue you ugly little thing and don't talk to me I'm going to crow and can't be interrupted by any silly bit of a hen be quiet down there and here if I can't do it as well as daddy the chick a droll cockadoodle do came of it and all the chicks laughed that made strut mad and he resolved to crow even if he killed himself doing it he gave an angry cluck flapped his wings and tried again alas alas for poor strut he leaned so far forward in his frantic effort to get a big crow out that he was looking himself instantly for some time after this mrs. cluck kept the three remaining little ones close to her side watching over them with maternal care till they were heartily tired of her anxious cluckings peep and peck were always together being very close peck was a glutton eating everything she could find and often making herself ill by gobbling too fast and forgetting to eat a little gravel to help digest her food don't go out of the barn children I'm going to lay an egg and can't look after you all their might peep found a little hole into the meal room and slipped in full of joy at the sight of the bags boxes and bins I'll eat all I want and then I'll call peck she said and having taken the taste of everything she was about to leave when she heard the stableman coming and in her fright down the cover of the bin as he passed and left poor peep to die no one knew what had become of her till some days later when she was found dead in the meal with her poor little claws sticking straight up as if imploring help peck meanwhile got into mischief also for in her hunt for something good to eat she strayed into the sheep shed and finding knowing that salt is bad for hands having taken all she wanted she ran back to the barn and was innocently catching gnats when her mama came out of the haymow with a loud cut cut cut cut where is peep asked mrs. cluck don't know ma'am she there peck stopped suddenly rolled up her eyes and began the chick cried mrs. cluck in great alarm fits ma'am answered dr. drake who just then waddled by oh what can I do screamed the distressed hen nothing ma'am it's fatal and the doctor waddled on to visit dame partlet son who was ill of the peep my child who as poor mrs. cluck sighed and sobbed her unhappy child went scuffling about on her back gasping and rolling up her eyes in great anguish for she had eaten too much of the fatal salt and there was no help for her when all was over they buried the dead chicken under a current bush covered the little grave with chickweed and the bereaved parent blot the last of that bright band needed no morning where she was as black as a crow this was the reason why her mother never had loved her as much as she did the others who were all white gray or yellow poor little blot had been much neglected by everyone but now her lonely mama is obeying in any way but always close to her side ready to creep under her wing or bring her a plump bug when the poor bitties appetite failed her they were very happy together till Thanksgiving drew near when a dreadful pestulence seemed to sweep through the farmyard for turkeys, hens, born away to some unknown place whence no foul return blot was waked one night by a great cackling and fluttering in the henhouse and peeping down from her perch saw a great hand glide along the roost clutch her beloved mother by the leg and pulled her off screaming dofully goodbye goodbye my darling child and cockatop pecked and croaked fiercely deep and many another amiable hen and gallant cockadoodle fell a victim to that mysterious hand in the morning few remained and blot felt that she was a forlorn orphan a thought which caused her to sit with her head under her wing for several hours brooding over her sad lot and longing to join her family in some safe one day when the first snowflakes began to flutter out of the cold gray sky blot saw a little kitten mewing pitifully as it sat under the fence what is the matter dear asked kind blot I'm lost and can't find my way home answered the kitten shivering with cold I live at the red farmhouse over the hill only I don't know which road to take I'll show you this for night is coming on and the snow will soon be too deep for us said blot so away they went as fast as the small legs could carry them but it was a long way and dust came on before the red farmhouse appeared now I'm safe thank you very much won't you come in and stay all night my mother would be it's against the rules to stay out all night and I promise to begin early so goodbye dear an off trotted blot along the snowy road hoping to get home before the hen house the door was shut faster and faster fell the snow darker and darker grew the night and colder and colder became poor blot's little feet as she waded through the drifts half frozen chick came into the yard to find all doors shut and no shelter left for her but the bow of a leafless tree too stiff and weak to fly up she crept as close as possible to the bright glow which shone across the doorstep and with a shiver put her little head under her wing trying to forget hunger weariness blot lay frozen stiff under a coverlet of snow and the tender hearted children sighed as they dug a grave for the last of the unfortunate family of the clucks End of Chapter 6 Recording by George Elto San Antonio Texas