{Drawing of Wilhelm Kalbfleisch.}WILHELM KALBFLEISCH, the butcher's boy, was one of the most uninteresting specimens of humanity that I have ever seen. That any of us would ever give him even a passing glance seemed quite beyond the range of probability, and yet Wilhelm's stolid, good-natured face haunted Winnie's dreams like a very Nemesis, and came to acquire a new and singular interest even in my own mind.
We passed a little Catholic church on our way to the boarding-school.
"We are early," said Winnie. "Let's go in."
It was Lent, and the altar was shrouded in black, and only a few candles burning dimly. We stood beside a carved confessional. A muffled murmur came from the interior, and the red curtains pulsated as though in time to sobs.
"Let us go out," whispered Milly; "I am stifling."
She looked so white that I was really afraid she was going to faint. "I feel better," she gasped, when we reached the open air.
"It was frightfully close," Winnie said, "and the air was heavy with incense."
"It was not that," said Milly, "it was the thought of it all; that there was a poor woman in that confessional telling all her sins to a priest. I never could do it in the world."
"It would be a comfort to me," said Winnie, fiercely. "I only wish there was some one with authority, to whom I could confess my sins, that I might get rid of the responsibility of them."
"There is," I said, before I thought; "'He hath borne our griefs and carried our sorrows.'"
Winnie gave me a quick look. "Youdon't usually preach, Tib," she said, and burst into a merry round of stories and jokes, which convulsed the other girls, but did not in the least deceive me. I could see that she was troubled, and was trying to carry it off by riding her high horse. "Girls," she said, "I want you to come around to the butcher's with me. They have such funny little beasts in the window. I mean to get one, and the butcher's boy, Wilhelm, is such a princely creature—just mybeau idéal—I want you to see him."
The funny little beasts proved to be forms of head-cheese in fancy shapes. Strange roosters and ducks, with plumage of gayly colored sugar icing, and animals of uncouth forms and colors. Winnie bought a small pig with a blue nose and green tail, all the while bombarding the butcher's boy, who was a particularly stupid specimen, with keen questions and witty sallies. He was so very obtuse that he did not even see that she was making sport of him.
As we hurried home to make up for our little escapade, Winnie amused us all by asking us how we thought Wilhelm would grace a princely station. "Just imagine, for an instant, that he was the lost Prince Paradiso! What a figure he would cut in chain armor, or in a court costume of velvet and jewels! Did you notice the elegance of his manners and the brilliancy of his wit?"
"Winnie, Winnie, have you gone wild?" Adelaide asked. "Why do you make such sport of the poor fellow? He is well enough where he is, I am sure."
"Is he not?" Winnie replied, a little more soberly; "I was only thinking what a mercy it is that people are so well fitted for their stations in life by nature. Now, think of Jim as a butcher, growing up to chop sausage-meat and skewer roasts!"
"Jim never could be a butcher," Adelaide replied; "even if Miss Prillwitz's dreams do not come true, the education she is giving him will do no harm. He will carve a future for himself."
We went into the house, and the subject was dropped. The next morning a message came from Miss Prillwitz that one of the Hetterman children was sick. It was the fever, contracted in their old home, and we were told that our botany lessons must be interrupted for the present. We heard through Mrs. Hetterman that the child was not very sick. It was one of the chubby little ones that had looked so well. She was quarantined now in Jim's room, the green one up under the roof, and had a trained nurse to care for her. Mrs. Hetterman did not see the child, but talked with her daughter Mary in the basement every evening She thought it was a great mercy that they had completed their moving before the child was taken sick. This did not seem to me to be exactly generous to Miss Prillwitz, but I could not blame the mother for the feeling, for under the careful treatment the child speedily weathered the storm, and came out looking only a little paler for the confinement. We were expecting a summons to return to our lessons, when Mrs. Hetterman told us that Jim was sick. We were not greatly alarmed, for the little girl's illness had been so slight that we fancied we would see our favorite about in a fortnight.
Milly sent in baskets of white grapes and flowers, and Adelaide carried over a beautiful set of photographs of Italian architecture. "It may amuse him to look them over," she said, "and it is just possible that his ancestral palace figures among them."
Adelaide hoped to go to Europe as soon as she graduated. "If Jim is established inhis rights by that time, I shall visit him," she said, "so, you see, I am only mercenary in my attentions to him now."
Winnie looked up indignantly, "Then you deserve to be disappointed."
Adelaide laughed merrily. "I thought you knew me well enough, Winnie, to tell when I am in fun. I like Jim so much, personally, that I would do as much for him if he had no great expectations; but I do not see that there is any harm in thinking of the kindnesses which he may be able to do me."
"If you don't count too surely on them. Miss Prillwitz has had time to notify his relatives, and they do not seem to take any interest in him."
It is the unexpected that always happens. That very evening Mrs. Hetterman brought us this note from Miss Prillwitz. She wrote better than she spoke, for on paper there was no opportunity for the foreign accent to betray itself:
"My dear young ladies:"The elder brother have arrived, and I fear you will have no more opportunity to see little Giacomo, for I think he will take him away very shortly to his father's house."You must not be too sorry, but think whata so great thing this is for poor little Giacomo, to be called so soon to his beautiful estate; no more poorness or trouble, in the palace of the King. Giacomo desire me to thank you for all you kindness to him. He hope some time you will all come to him at his beautiful country of everlasting springtime, and the elder brother invite you also. Mrs. Halsey is here. She is much troubled. She forget that Giacomo was not her very own, and the pain of parting from him is great. She can not rightly think of the good fortune it is to him. She wish to go with him, but that is not possible for now. Giacomo hope you will comfort her. He hope, too, we will continue our care to the children Hetterman. Come not to-night, dear young ladies, to bid him farewells; I fear you to cry, and so to trouble his happiness."Your at all times loving teacher,"Célestine Prillwitz."
"My dear young ladies:
"The elder brother have arrived, and I fear you will have no more opportunity to see little Giacomo, for I think he will take him away very shortly to his father's house.
"You must not be too sorry, but think whata so great thing this is for poor little Giacomo, to be called so soon to his beautiful estate; no more poorness or trouble, in the palace of the King. Giacomo desire me to thank you for all you kindness to him. He hope some time you will all come to him at his beautiful country of everlasting springtime, and the elder brother invite you also. Mrs. Halsey is here. She is much troubled. She forget that Giacomo was not her very own, and the pain of parting from him is great. She can not rightly think of the good fortune it is to him. She wish to go with him, but that is not possible for now. Giacomo hope you will comfort her. He hope, too, we will continue our care to the children Hetterman. Come not to-night, dear young ladies, to bid him farewells; I fear you to cry, and so to trouble his happiness.
"Your at all times loving teacher,
"Célestine Prillwitz."
"The idea of our crying, like so many babies!" said Emma Jane Anton; "why, it's the best thing that possibly could happen to him, and I, for one, shall congratulate him heartily."
"I suppose so," Milly assented, doubtfully, "but I shall miss him awfully, he is such a nice little fellow."
"So much the better," said Adelaide;"how glad the prince must be to find that his little brother is really presentable. As Winnie was saying, 'Fancy his feelings if he had found him a coarse, common creature like Wilhelm, the butcher's boy!' And now, Winnie, what do you say to my being too sure about visiting him some day? Here is the invitation from the prince himself. I wonder just where in Italy they live!"
So the girls chatted all together, but Winnie was strangely silent.
"I ought to see Miss Prillwitz at once," she exclaimed, suddenly.
"It's too late, now," replied Emma Jane; "there! the retiring-bell is ringing, and if you look across the square you can see that Miss Prillwitz's lights are all out; besides, she particularly requested us not to come until morning."
"Then I must run over before breakfast," said Winnie, "for it is very important."
She set a little alarm-clock for an hour earlier than our usual waking-time; but she was unable to sleep, and her restlessness kept me awake also. She tossed from side to side, and moaned to herself, and at last I heard her say, "Oh! what wouldn't I give if someone would only show me the best way out of it."
"Winnie," I said, softly, "I am not asleep. What is the matter? Are you in trouble?"
"Yes, Tib."
"Do you need money?"
"No."
"Are you in love?"
"The idea! A thousand times no."
"Are you going to be expelled?"
"Not unless I tell on myself; perhaps not even then. But oh, Tib, I told you I was in for a scrape. I thought I could stick it through, but it's worse than I thought. I can't keep the secret; I've got to tell."
"I would, and then you'll feel better."
"No, I will not, for telling will not do any good. I'm not sure but it will do harm."
"You poor child, what can it be?"
"Just this—Jim isnotthe prince."
"I don't see how you know that, or, if you do, what business it is of yours."
"Because I deceived Miss Prillwitz, and got Jim in there by making her think he was the boy she had heard about, while the real boy is somewhere else. I'vegotto tell her before his friends take him away, and before that other boy disappears from view entirely."
"That is really dreadful, but if you know where the true prince is, it can't be quite irreparable. What ever made you do such a thing? and how did you manage to do it?"
"Why, you see, I hadn't any faith in this story of a lost prince at all. I thought that Miss Prillwitz was just a little bit of a crank, who had been imposed on by designing people and I was sure, when I saw the woman at the door who came to tell Miss Prillwitz that her boy had a situation and could not come, that she had been in league with the person who had told Miss Prillwitz about the lost prince, but had backed out of the plot because she was afraid. Miss Prillwitz had evidently not suspected that she knew anything of the boy's supposed expectations, for she had merely promised to take him to board, teach, and clothe, for whatever the mother could give her, the woman having said that she was going into a family as German nursery governess, and agreeing to send a trifle toward her boy's support whenever she received her salary. It was just the time that Mrs. Halsey was looking for a place for Jim. It was so easy to have himcome at the time agreed upon and take the place of the other boy. I was afraid, at first, that Miss Prillwitz would be surprised by the regularity of our payments and the amount we sent, but she didn't seem to suspect anything, and she is so fond of him, and he deserves it all—and everything worked so well up to the coming of the prince."
"But, Winnie, why didn't you tell her the whole story at first? I think she would have taken him, all the same, and then you would not have got things into this awful muddle."
"Indeed she would not have taken him, a mere pauper out of the slums, unless she had thought that he was something more. She is a born aristocrat, and she never could have taken Jim to her heart so if she had not believed that he was of her own class—of her family, even. Why, even Adelaide would never have seen half the fine qualities in him which she thinks she has discovered if she had not thought him a noble; and it has thrown a fine halo of romance over him for Milly; and even Emma Jane, who was hard to convince at first, is firmly persuaded that he is made of a littlefiner clay than the rest of us. And you, Tib, confess that you are disappointed yourself."
"I am bitterly disappointed," I admitted; "but that is nothing to the extent that Miss Prillwitz will feel it. I wouldn't be in your shoes, Winnie, for anything."
"I know it; I know it. I have been wicked, but I had no idea that the family would ever look him up. I hardly believed the story that there had been any prince lost. And, Tib, if there had not been, where would have been the harm in what I did?"
"It would have been wrong, all the same, Winnie, even if it had seemed to turn out well. Deception is always wrong, and I did not think it of you. But there, don't sob so, or you will make yourself sick, and you need all your wits and strength to carry you through the ordeal of setting things straight to-morrow. I'll stand by you. I'll go with you if it will be any help."
"No, you shall not; Miss Prillwitz might think you were implicated in the affair. The fault was all mine, and I will not have any one else share the blame; only be on hand at the door, Tib, with an ambulance to carry away the remnants, for I shall be all broken into smithereens by the interview."
I tried to soothe the excited girl, and fancied that she had fallen asleep, when she suddenly began to laugh hysterically.
"I haven't told you who the real prince is," she said. "Aren't you curious to know?"
"Have I ever met him?"
"Yes, indeed; it's Wilhelm the butcher's boy."
"Impossible!"
"Isn't it too absurd for anything? That was the situation which his mother, or foster-mother, preferred to Miss Prillwitz's care. What will Adelaide say now about blue blood telling even in low circumstances? There isbloodenough about Wilhelm if that is all that is desired. And won't that foreign prince be just raving when he is introduced to his long-lost brother! But poor Miss Prillwitz!—that's the worst of all. No doubt she has been writing with pride and delight the most glowing letters in reference to Jim's fitness for his high position. How chagrined and mortified the dear old lady will be! Tell me now, Tib, that things were not better as I managed them."
"It does seem as if there must be a mistake somewhere. Still, the truth is the truth, and I believe in telling it, even if theHeavens fall. This matter is all in the hands of Providence, Winnie, and I believe you got into trouble simply by thinking that you knew better than Providence, and that the world could not move on without you."
"I must say you are rather hard on me, Tib, but perhaps you are right. Do you suppose that if I hand the tangle I have made right to God, he will take it from my hands and straighten it out for me? I should think He would have nothing more to do with it, or with me."
"That is not the way our mothers behave when we get our work into a snarl."
This last remark comforted her. She laid her head upon my shoulder and prayed:
"Dear Heavenly Father, I have done wrong, and everything has gone wrong. Help me henceforth to do right, and wilt Thou make everything turn out right. For thy dear Son's sake, I ask it. Amen."
Then trustfully she fell asleep, her conscience relieved of a great weight, and with faith in a power beyond her own.
{Drawing of child sleeping in bed.} NOTWITHSTANDING Winnie's protestations to the contrary, I insisted on going with her the next morning when she went to make her confession.
The little alarm-clock made its usual racket, but Winnie slept peacefully, and I was dressed before I could make up my mind to waken her. But I knew how disappointed she would be if she could not make her callon Miss Prillwitz before breakfast, and I wakened her with a kiss, and made her a cup of coffee over the gas while she was dressing. Then we put on our ulsters and hoods, and slipped out of the house just as the rising-bell was ringing.
We knew that Miss Prillwitz was habitually an early riser, or we would not have planned to call at such an hour, but we were surprised to find a cab standing before her door.
"I wonder whether the prince and Jim are just about to leave," Winnie exclaimed. "I did not know that any of the ocean steamers sailed so early in the morning. What if they have gone and we are too late!"
Something was the matter with the door-bell, and just as we were about to knock, the door opened and a stout gentleman came down the steps, and drove away in the carriage. Jim was not with him, and Miss Prillwitz stood inside the door.
Winnie caught her arm and asked, "Was that the prince, the elder brother?"
"No, tear," said Miss Prillwitz, gravely. "Why haf you come, when I write you you must not?"
"Oh Miss Prillwitz, it was because I havesomething so particular, so important, to tell you. Do not tell me that Jim has gone, and that it is too late!"
"No, tear, Giacomo haf not gone already. I think ze elder brother take him very soon, and we keep our little Giacomo not one leetle longer. Go in ze park by ze bench and I vill come and talk zare wiz you."
We wondered at her unwillingness to let us in, but obeyed her directions, and presently she came out to us with a shawl thrown about her and a knitted boa outside her cap. Even then she did not sit near us, but on a bench at a little distance, having first noted carefully that the wind blew from our direction toward her. All this might have seemed strange to us had we not been so thoroughly absorbed in what Winnie was about to say. The poor child blundered into her story at once, and told it in such broken fashion that Miss Prillwitz never could have understood it but for my explanations. When we had finished, the tears stood in Miss Prillwitz's eyes.
"My tear child," she said, kindly, drawing nearer to us, "how you haf suffer! Yes, you have done a sin, but you are sorry, and God he forgive ze sorrowful."
"But do you forgive me, Miss Prillwitz?" Winnie cried, passionately. "Can you ever love me again?"
"Yes, my tear, I forgive you freely, and I love you more as ever."
"And the elder brother and Jim? Have Jim's expectations been raised? Will he be greatly disappointed, and will the prince be very angry?"
"My tear, in all zis it is not as you have t'inked. See, you haf not understand my way of talk. I t'ink Giacomo will, all ze same, pretty soon go to his Fazzer's house. Ze elder brother is may be gone wiz him by now. You have not, then, understand zat dis elder brother is ze Lord Christ? zat ze beautiful country is Heaven? Our little Giacomo lie very sick. Ze doctor, whom justly you did meet, he gif no hope. His poor muzzer sit by him so sad, so sad, it tear my heart. She cannot see he go to ze palace to be one Prince del Paradiso."
We sat bolt upright, dazed and stunned by this astounding information.
"Do you mean to say," Winnie said, slowly, grasping her head as though laboring to concentrate her ideas, "that Jim is dying, and that he is no more a prince than any of us?I mean that the other boy is not a real prince, and that no child ever strayed away from its father's house, or elder brother has been seeking for a lost one? Oh Miss Prillwitz, how could you make up such a story?"
"My tear, my tear, it is all true, and I t'ought you to understand my leetle vay of talk. Giacomo is a prince in disguise; you, my tears, are daughters of ze great King. Zat uzzer boy, ze butcher, he also inherit ze same heavenly palace. All ze children what come in zis world haf wander avay from zat home, and ze elder brother he go up and down looking for ze lost. He gif me commission; he gif effery Christians commission to find zose lost prince—to teach him and fit him for his high position. I did not have intention to deceive you, my tear. It was my little vay of talk."
"Oh! oh!" exclaimed Winnie, "I feel as if my brain were turning a somersault, but I cannot realize it. Then I did not really deceive you, after all, Miss Prillwitz, though I was just as wicked in intending to do so. And Jim—do not say there is no hope!"
"No, my tear. I know all ze time zis was not ze boy I expect. But I say to myself,'How he come I know not, but he is also ze child of ze King.' Ze elder brother want him to be care for also. May be ze elder brother send him, and I take him very gladly. And surely, I never find one child to prove his title to be one Prince of Paradise better as Giacomo. So gentle, so loving, so generous and soughtful. I not wonder at all ze elder brother want him. I sank him, I sank you, too, Winnie, I have privilege to know one such lovely character."
Miss Prillwitz looked at her watch. "I can no longer," she said quickly, and hurried back to her home. We crossed the park thoughtfully and entered the school. There was just time to tell the girls the news before chapel. The knowledge that dear Jim was lying at death's door overwhelmed every other consideration, and yet we talked over Miss Prillwitz's little allegory also.
"We were stupid not to see through it at first," said Adelaide. "She is just the woman to create an ideal world for herself and to live in it. I have no grudge against her because we misunderstood her meaning, and yet there certainly is something very fine in Jim's nature."
"Now I think it all over," said EmmaJane, "she has said nothing which was not true."
"I understand her letter better now," I said. "We have all been parts of a beautiful parable, and we have been as thickheaded as the disciples were when Jesus said, 'O fools, and slow of heart to believe.'"
Milly was silently weeping. "All the beauty of the idea doesn't change the fact that Jim is dying," she said.
"I have never loved any one so since I lost my mother and my baby brother," said Adelaide. "I can't remember how he looked—it was ten years ago, and I have no photographs, only this cameo pin, which father bought because it reminded him of mother. Not the face either, only the turn of the neck. He said she had a beautiful neck—and as he came home from his business at night he always saw her sitting in her little sewing-chair by the window looking every now and then over her shoulder for him with her neck turned so, and her profile clear cut against the dark of the room like the two colors of agate in this cameo."
It is not natural for girls to talk freely on what stirs them most deeply, and little more was said on the subject that morning, butwe each thought a great deal, and if our hearts could have been laid bare to each other, we would have been startled by the similarity of the trains of thought which this event had roused. All through the morning's lessons our imaginations wandered to the house across the park, and we wondered whether all was indeed over, and dear, cheery, helpful Jim had gone. We did not remember that we had declared we would gladly let him go to an earthly princedom, and yet this was far better for him. Our imaginations saw only the white upturned face upon the pillow, the grief-stricken mother, and Miss Prillwitz flitting about drawing the sheet straight, and placing white lilacs in his hands.
Adelaide confessed to me, long after, that all of her worldly thoughts in reference to visiting Jim some day came back to her in a strange, sermonizing way. She said that in her secret heart she had rather dreaded the visit because she knew so little of the etiquette of foreign courts, and was afraid she might make some mistake. She had even studied several books on the subject, and knew the sort of costume it was necessary to wear in a royal presentation, just thelength of the train, the degree of décolletée, and the veil, and the feathers. The thought came over her with great vividness that she had never studied the etiquette of Heaven or attempted to provide herself with garments fit for the presence of the King. Mrs. Hetterman had a habit of singing quaint old hymns. There was one which we often heard echoing up from the basement—
"At His right hand our eyes beholdThe queen arrayed in purest gold;The world admires her heavenly dress,Her robe of joy and righteousness."
"At His right hand our eyes beholdThe queen arrayed in purest gold;The world admires her heavenly dress,Her robe of joy and righteousness."
This scrap was borne in upon Adelaide's mind now. "A robe of joy and righteousness," she thought to herself; "I wonder how it is made! it surely must be becoming."
Then she thought again of her mingled motives, of how glad she had been that she had befriended Jim because she could claim him as an acquaintance as a prince, in that foreign country, and how she had wished that she might entertain more traveling members of the nobility in his country in order to have more acquaintances at court. "If the poor are Christ's brothers and sisters," she said to herself, "I have abundantopportunity to make many friendships which may be carried over into that unknown country;" and a new purpose awoke in her heart, which had for its spring not the most unselfish motives, but a strong one, and destined to achieve good work, and to give place in time to higher aims.
Afternoon came, and no message had arrived from Jim. "Girls," said Adelaide, as we sat in the Amen Corner, "if Jim dies, I propose that we carry this sort of work on of fitting poor children for something higher, and broaden it, as a memorial to him. I don't exactly see my way yet, but we can do a good deal if we band together and try."
"Oh! don't talk about Jim's dying," said Milly, "we'll do it, anyway."
"I can't see why we don't hear from Miss Prillwitz," said Winnie, impatiently. "It is recreation hour; let us go out into the park, and perhaps she will see us and send us some word."
We walked around and around the paths which were in view from Miss Prillwitz's windows. Presently we saw Mary Hetterman coming toward us with a note in her hand.
"I know just what that note says," exclaimed Milly, sinking upon a bench. "The little prince has gone to his estates."
"Hush!" exclaimed Adelaide. "See! is it a ghost?" We looked as she pointed, and saw at Jim's window a perfect representation of Adelaide's cameo. A white face against the dark interior. It vanished as she spoke, leaving us all with a strange, eerie sensation, a feeling that this was certainly an omen of Jim's death. But our premonitions, like so many others, did not come true. The note was not for us. Mary Hetterman passed us with a smile and a nod, and a moment later Miss Prillwitz herself came out to us.
We knew by her face that she brought good news, but none of us spoke until she answered our unuttered question.
"No, tears, Jim haf not gone. Ze prince haf been here, but I sink he not take him zis time already. The doctor sink we keep him one leetle time longer. I cannot stay. It is time I go give him his medicine, and let loose ze nurse, for I care for him ze nights. Good-bye, my tears. Ah! I am so happy zat ze little prince go not yet to his estates; so happy, and yet so sleepy also." And we noticed for the first time the great dark ringswhich want of sleep and anxiety had drawn around Miss Prillwitz's eyes.
"Good-bye, princess," I cried; "surely no one deserves that title more than you, for you have proved yourself a royal daughter of the King. We have called you so a long time among ourselves—our Princess del Paradiso."
She smiled, waved her hand, and vanished into the queer house which she had made a palace.
It was some time before Adelaide could recover from the shock of the apparition at the window, though we assured her that it was probably only the trained nurse; and we afterward ascertained that it was in reality Mrs. Halsey, who had come to the window for a moment to greet the glad new day, and who was now as joyful as she had been despairing. So much tension of feeling, so great extremes of joy and sorrow, had affected her deeply, and she wept out her gratitude on Miss Prillwitz's sympathizing heart. "You have been very good to him," Mrs. Halsey said, with emotion. "Some time, when the past all comes back to me, as I am sure it will some day, I may be able to return your kindness."
Mrs. Halsey had made several mysterious allusions to the past, and Miss Prillwitz, who had a kindly way of gaining the confidence of everyone, said sweetly, "Tell me about your early life, my tear."
"It is a strange story," Mrs. Halsey replied. "I had a happy childhood and girlhood, and a happy married life up to the time that my dear parents died, and even after that, for my husband was the best of men, and I had a sweet little daughter. Their faces come back to me, waking and sleeping, though I have lost them, I sometimes fear, forever."
"Did they die?" Miss Prillwitz asked.
"No, dear, I think not; but now comes the strange part of my story: I remember a journey vaguely, and a steamer disaster, a night of horror with fire and water, and then all is a frightful blank; a curtain of blackness seems to have fallen on all my past life. I am told that I was rescued from the burning of a Sound steamer, with my baby-boy in my arms, and given shelter by some kindly farmer folk. I had received an injury—a blow on the head—and had brain-fever, from which I recovered in body, but with a disordered mind, my memory shattered; I could remember faces, but not names. I could nottell the name of the town in which I had lived, or my own name. I remained with the kind people who first received me for several months, but I did not wish to be a burden to them, and I hoped that I might find my home. I knew that it had been in a city, and I felt sure that if I ever saw any of my old surroundings, or old friends I would recognize them at once. It was thought, too, that New York physicians might help me, so I came to New York, and my case was advertised in the papers. But months had passed since the accident, and my friends either did not see the advertisement, or did not recognize me in the story given. The doctors at the hospital pronounced me incurable, and I was discharged. I wandered up and down the streets, but although I felt sure that I had been in New York before, I could not find my home. I read the names on the signs, hoping to recognize my own name, but I never came across it. Meantime I took the name of Halsey; it was necessary for me to live, and I knew that I could sew, and that I had a faculty for designing; and seeing Madame Céleste's advertisement for a designer, I applied at once for the situation. It seemed to me at first that I had seen MadameCéleste before, but she was repellent in manner, and I did not dare question her, and gradually that impression faded. I hired a woman to take care of Jim, and though he was not well cared for, he lived, and we got on until he was large enough to play upon the streets. Then I took him home to the little room in Rickett's Court, and finding that I could not be with him as much as he needed, I gave up my place at Madame Céleste's and worked at first for the costumer, where the young ladies found me, and afterward tried to keep soul and body together by taking sewing home. It was the life of a galley-slave, but I did not care so long as I could keep my boy at school, and with me out of school hours. But I could not do that, for to earn the money which was absolutely necessary for our support Jim had to work too, and driving the milkman's cart in the early morning was the best we could find for him out of school hours. He was so proud and happy to do it, and to help earn for us both; but, as you know, it cut into his hours for sleep, and left him no time to study. Oh! I was nearly in despair, when God sent you as angels to my help and Jim's."
"And have you never been able to guesswhat your old name was?" Miss Prillwitz asked.
"Never; sometimes it seems to me that I remember it in my dreams, but when I awake it is gone; still, I cannot help feeling that I shall find my own again. Sometimes there comes a great inward illumination, and the curtain seems to be lifting. I cannot think they have forgotten me—my husband tender and true, and my little girl with the great questioning eyes."
Miss Prillwitz did not share Mrs. Halsey's confidence, but her sympathy was enlisted, and she caressed and comforted Mrs. Halsey. "It shall be as you hope, my tear; if not just now and here, zen surely by and by, and zat is not very long. And meantime you have found some friends, ze young ladies and me, and ze Elder Brother have found you, and we are all one family, so you can be no longer lonely and wizout relation, even in zis world."
"O ladies, dear ladies, the next sunny day,Please trundle your hoops just out of Broadway,From its whirl and its bustle, its fashion and pride,And the temples of trade which tower on each side,To the alleys and lanes where Misfortune and GuiltTheir children have gathered, their city have built.Then say, if you dare,Spoiled children of fashion, you've nothing to wear!"
"O ladies, dear ladies, the next sunny day,Please trundle your hoops just out of Broadway,From its whirl and its bustle, its fashion and pride,And the temples of trade which tower on each side,To the alleys and lanes where Misfortune and GuiltTheir children have gathered, their city have built.Then say, if you dare,Spoiled children of fashion, you've nothing to wear!"
"O ladies, dear ladies, the next sunny day,Please trundle your hoops just out of Broadway,From its whirl and its bustle, its fashion and pride,And the temples of trade which tower on each side,To the alleys and lanes where Misfortune and GuiltTheir children have gathered, their city have built.Then say, if you dare,Spoiled children of fashion, you've nothing to wear!"
{Drawing of Milly Roseveldt.} MILLY ROSEVELDT made an important entry in her diary a few days after this. She was very exact about keeping her diary, recording for the most part, however, very trivial matters, but the day that she wrote "We have organized a 'King's Daughters Ten'" was a day with a white stone in it, and deserved to be remembered.
Jim had passed the crisis of the fever, and recovered rapidly. Neither of the other Hettermans was taken ill. The house was thoroughly cleansed and disinfected, and after a few weeks we took up our interrupted botany lessons. But Jim's illness had made more than a transient impression, and Adelaide's suggestion that we should broaden and deepen our work was talked over amongst us.
"There is a society," said Emma Jane, "which I have heard of somewhere, which is called 'The King's Daughters.' I think they have much the same idea that Miss Prillwitz has expressed. It is formed of separate links of ten members, bound together by the common purpose of doing good. Now, I think, we might form such a link, with Miss Prillwitz for our president. There are five of us, but we need five more. Whom shall we ask?"
"Girls," said Winnie, "I'm afraid you won't agree, but there is real good stuff in those Hornets."
"The Hornets! Oh, never!"
"What an idea!"
"Why, they hate us!"
"No, they simply think that we despise them."
"Well, so we do. I am sure, the way that Cynthia Vaughn behaves is simply despicable."
"Perhaps so," Winnie admitted, "but the other three girls are not so bad. Little Breeze"—that was our nickname for Tina Gale—"is a real good-natured girl, and a perfect genius for getting up things. When I roomed in the Nest she was devoted to me; so they all were, for that matter. I could make them do whatever I pleased, and Rosaria Ricos, the Cuban heiress, is just as generous as she can be. 'Trude Middleton is a great Sunday-school worker when she is at home, and Puss Seligman's mother has a longer calling-list than Milly's, I do believe. Don't you remember what a lot of tickets she sold for the theatricals? If we are going to get up a charitable society we must use some brains to make it succeed, and those girls are a power. You know very well that it is the Hornets' Nest and the Amen Corner which support the literary society, and when we unite on any ticket-selling or other enterprise it is sure to succeed."
"Yes," replied Emma Jane Anton, "that is because we appeal to entirely different setsof girls—between us we carry the entire school."
"I will take all in," said Adelaide, "except Cynthia. She has been too hateful to Tib and Milly for anything!"
"Oh, don't mind me," murmured Milly; "I dare say she could not help laughing when I made that mistake about Paul and Virginia."
"I don't believe she will join us," I said, doubtfully; "but I am sure I would a great deal rather have her for a friend than an enemy."
"She will be so surprised and flattered that she will be as sweet as jam," said Winnie, confidently. "You have no idea what a lofty reputation you girls have. I used to reverence and envy you until it amounted to positive hatred. That is what made me behave so badly. I knew we couldn't approach you in good behavior, and I determined to take the lead in something. That's just the way with Cynthia. She imagines that you would not touch her with a ten-foot pole, and she wants you to think that she doesn't care, but she does."
Milly promptly furnished the wherewithal for a spread, and the Hornets were invited.Adelaide said that they acted as if a sense of gratification were struggling with a sneaking consciousness of unworthiness, and it was all that she could do not to display the scorn which she was afraid she felt. But Milly was as sweetly gracious as only Milly knew how to be, and Winnie put them all at their ease with her rollicking good-fellowship. I was sure that Cynthia at first suspected some trick, but even she succumbed at last to our praise of her banjo-playing, which was really admirable. They melted completely with the ice-cream—little ducks with strawberry heads and pistache wings; and when Winnie told them the entire story of the little prince they were greatly interested.
"Now," said Winnie, "I have been talking with Jim, and he says that the tenement house in which he lived swarms with children who ought not to pass the summer there, who will die if they do; and what I want to propose is, that we club together and have some sort of entertainment, to send them to the country, or do something else for them."
The proposition met with favor, as did the plan for the King's Daughters society, whichwas organized at once, and officered as follows, the "spoils" being divided equally between the Amen Corner and the Hornets:
President—Miss Prillwitz.
Vice-Presidents—Adelaide Armstrong and Gertrude Middleton.
Secretary—Cynthia Vaughn.
Treasurer—Emma Jane Anton.
Executive Committee—The foregoing officers and the rest of the society.
"Little Breeze" then made a practical suggestion: "You know," said she, "that the literary society is always allowed to give an entertainment the week before the graduating exercises, to put the treasury in funds, or, rather, to pay old debts. We have no debts this year, and I am sure that the society will let us have the occasion. Whatever we ten favor is sure to be carried in the literary society."
"That is what I said," remarked Winnie.
"So if Miss Anton will get Madame's permission for the change, I have no doubt we can make at least three hundred dollars."
"Nonsense! we will make twice that," said Puss Hastings.
"But what shall we have?"
"I know the sweetest thing," said Little Breeze. "A Venetian Fête! It is really a fair, but the booths are all made to represent gondolas. They are painted black, and have their prows turned toward the centre of the room. We can have it in the gymnasium. The gondolas are canopied in different colors and hung with bright lanterns. We must all be dressed in Venetian costume, and have music and some pretty dances. It will be lovely!"
The fair was planned out: each girl had a gondola assigned her, with permission to work other girls in, and enthusiasm had reached a high pitch, when the retiring-bell clanged and the Hornets took their departure, the utmost good feeling prevailing between what had been until this evening rival factions of the school.
After our next botany lesson we lingered to inform Miss Prillwitz of what we had done, and to ask her to accept the Presidency of our ten. She listened with much interest.
"My tears," she said, "I sink perhaps you s'all do much good. I have justly been sinking, sinking; but ze need is great. I know not how we s'all come at ze money which we do need."
Then Miss Prillwitz explained that she had visited Rickett's Court, and had found so many little children in those vile surroundings; some of them, whose mothers were servants in families, and received good wages, were "boarding" with Mrs. Grogan, the baby-farmer. She had met one such mother in the court—a waitress on Fifth Avenue, who had three children with Mrs. Grogan.
"I pay her fifteen dollars a month," she said; "it is cheaper than I can board them elsewhere, and all that I can pay; but it makes my heart sick to see them sleeping and playing beside sewers and sinks, and to have them exposed to language of infinitely worse foulness. I know that if they do not die in childhood, of which there is every likelihood, they will grow up bad; and I don't know which I would choose for them. I wouldn't mind slaving for them, if there was any hope, if I could see them in decent surroundings, with some prospect of their turning out well in the end; but now, when I ask myself what all my toil amounts to, it seems to me that the best thing which could happen to us all would be to die."
The waitress knew of other servants who could have no home of their own for theirchildren, but who could pay something for their support, and whose maternal love and feeling of independence kept them from giving their children up to institutions; who had entrusted their little ones to bad people, who hired them to beggars, beat and half starved them. And now the summer was approaching, and it was dreadful to think of those closely packed tenement houses under the stifling heat.
Miss Prillwitz said that it had seemed to her positively wrong for her to go away to the seashore for the summer while so many must remain and suffer.
"I don't see that," said Adelaide, "unless by staying you can make their condition better."
"Perhaps I can so," replied Miss Prillwitz, "if ze King's Daughters will help me." And then she developed a plan of Jim's. He had noticed the vacant floors in her house, which had remained unlet all the winter. "If you could rent them for the summer, Miss Prillwitz," he had suggested, "we wouldn't need much furniture, but could just invite a lot of the children in and let them camp down. The rooms are so clean, and there is such lovely fresh air and no smells, and such beautiful bath-tubs, and the park for the little ones to play in, and Mary Hetterman could watch them."
"You forget," Miss Prillwitz had replied, "zat zose children are use probably to eat somet'ings."
No, Jim had not forgotten that, but Mrs. Hetterman would be out of a place for the summer vacation, and would cook for them, and the children's mothers would pay something, and he would do the marketing. After the public school closed the older children could earn something, he thought. He was all on fire with the idea, and his enthusiasm had communicated itself to our princess. "I haf even vent to see my landlord," she confessed; "he is von very rich man. I sought maybe he let me use ze rooms for ze summer, since he cannot else rent them. But no, he did not so make his wealths. We can have them von hundred dollar ze months; six months, five hundred. We cannot else. Now do you sink you make five hundred dollar from your fair?"
"Oh, I think so; indeed, I am sure of it!" Adelaide exclaimed; "dear little Jim, what an angel he is! We will go right to work and see what we can do."
Of course the fair was a success, as fairs go. I have since thought that a fair is a poor way for Christian people to give money to any charitable purpose. So much goes astray from the goal, so much is swallowed up in the expenses, that if people would only put their hands in their pockets and give at the outset what they do give in the aggregate, more would be realized, and much time, vexation, and labor saved. But people do not yet recognize this, and we knew no better than to follow in the old way. I had charge of the Art gondola, with Miss Sartoris and all the Studio girls to help me. We decided that, as it was a Venetian fête, we would make a specialty of Italian art. Miss Sartoris suggested etchings, and one of the leading art dealers allowed us to make our choice from his entire collection, giving them to us at wholesale, as he would to any other retail dealer, we to sell them at the regular retail price, thereby taking no unfair advantage over our purchasers, and yet making a handsome profit on each etching sold, while we ran no risk, as all unsold stock was to be returned.
We were surprised to find how many Venetian subjects had been etched. Therewere half a dozen different views of St. Mark's Cathedral—exteriors and interiors; San Giorgios and La Salutes; there were Rainy Nights in Venice, and Sunny Days in Venice, canals and bridges, shipping and palaces, piazzas and archways and cloisters.
Then we obtained a quantity of photographs of the Italian master-pieces, chiefly from the works of Titian and the Venetian school, though we included also the Madonnas of Raphael. Miss Sartoris found an Italian curiosity-shop, which was a perfect treasure-trove, for here we secured, on commission, a quantity of Venetian glass beads, the beautiful blossomed variety, with tiny smelling-bottles of the same material, together with sleeve-buttons of Florentine mosaic, ornaments of pink Neapolitan coral, and broken pieces of antique Roman marbles, all of which we sold at immense profit. We had not thought of having any statuary, until Jim came to us, one afternoon, saying that Miss Prillwitz had told him that we intended to have an Italian fête, and as several of the families whom he wished benefited were Italians, who lived in Rickett's Court, he thought they might help us.
"What do they do?" I asked.
"The older Stavini boys peddle plaster-of-paris images, and some of them are very pretty. Pietro will bring you a basket of them, I am sure, and take back all you don't sell."
The plaster casts proved to be artistic and new. There was a set of five singing cherubs which we had seen on sale in the stores at twenty-five dollars a set, which Pietro offered us at fifty cents each, and others in like proportion. We sold his entire basketful at advanced prices, and received several orders for duplicates.
Winnie had charge of the refreshment department, and had a troop of the "preparatories" dressed as contadinas, who were to serve Neapolitan ices in colored glasses. Jim enabled her to introduce a very taking novelty by telling her of Vincenzo Amati, a cook in an Italian restaurant, who had three motherless little girls who were candidates for the summer home. Vincenzo agreed to come and cook for us while the fair lasted, Mrs. Hetterman kindly giving him place in the kitchen, so that we were able to add to our other attractions that of a real Italian supper, served on little tables in an adjoiningrecitation-room. Vincenzo brought us several dozen Chianti wine flasks, the empty bottles at the restaurant having been one of his perquisites. They were of graceful shapes, with slender necks, and wound in wicker, which Miss Sartoris gilded and further ornamented with a bow of bright satin ribbon. These flasks, empty, decorated each of the little tables, and one was given to each guest as a souvenir.
The menu consisted of—