CHAPTER XIA PLEASANT PLAN
SATURDAY was a busy day. Polly not only helped Arctura in the kitchen, but together they made the beds, for Miss Hetty, who usually preferred to take that duty upon herself, had to go away unexpectedly for an hour or so after breakfast. So Arctura and Polly turned the feather-beds and “plumped them up,” putting the mattresses squarely over them without any bulging out of the soft beds below, then stretched the sheets as smooth and tight as they could be drawn, and over them the fleecy blankets—Polly’s were striped with pink—and last of all they put on the snowy counterpanes and patted the stout pillows till they lay round and even at the head of each bed.
Snip and Snap added their society in Miss Pomeroy’s room. Suddenly Snip vanished, and Snap seemed much distressed. Arctura, who had been struggling to reduce an unaccountable lump on her side of the bed, made an exclamation, and drew out the sheets and blankets, and Snip, breathless but unvanquished, slid to the floor.
“My land!” ejaculated Miss Green, surveying the kitten with apparent disgust. “If you haven’t got any more sense than to go where you’ll be made up with a bed, it don’t seem as if you were worth raising!” But she took Snip up in her arms and stroked him, receiving for reward a vigorous scratch on the nose.
“Well, now, aren’t you the ungratefullest little piece that ever was?” said Arctura, setting him hastily down, and tenderly caressing her injured feature. “Didn’t you know to-morrow was Sunday and the minister coming to dinner? You’ve settled one thing. I shouldn’t be willing to sit down to a meal, facing him, all battered up this way. I shall tell Miss Hetty, so she needn’t consider it for a minute,” said Miss Green firmly, as she led the way to the kitchen.
There were two squash pies and two apple pies to be made that morning, and Polly was allowed to help with the rolling, and to crimp all the edges of the crust with a delightful little wheel. Arctura watched her with the first pie, but after that she bustled about the kitchen singing a gay little refrain.
“Oh—she—was—as—beautiful as a butterfly,And as proud as a queen,Was pretty little Polly Perkins,Of Abingdon Green,”
“Oh—she—was—as—beautiful as a butterfly,And as proud as a queen,Was pretty little Polly Perkins,Of Abingdon Green,”
“Oh—she—was—as—beautiful as a butterfly,And as proud as a queen,Was pretty little Polly Perkins,Of Abingdon Green,”
“Oh—she—was—as—beautiful as a butterfly,
And as proud as a queen,
Was pretty little Polly Perkins,
Of Abingdon Green,”
sang Arctura over and over again, and little Polly Prentiss listened with delight.
“You have a splendid voice, haven’t you, Miss Arctura?” she said, when at last the song stopped as the pies were put in the oven. “And what pretty words there are to that tune.”
“My voice isn’t anything now to what it was,” said Miss Green, evidently much pleased. “I can’t rely on it as I once could. When my brother John, that lives out West, and I were in our teens we used to be called for far and near, whenever there was music wanted. He had a good tenor voice, and I could sing way up above the staff without straining my tones a mite. But now I’m getting old and I have to bear just as light as I can on the high notes, and there’s a number down towards G on the second line that are apt to fail me when I’m least expecting it,” said Arctura, and Polly thought her voice sounded a little sad.
“I think it’s all beautiful,” said Polly, with perfect sincerity. “It’s a great deal better than anybody’s voice in the choir at the church. I am just sure!”
“They’ve got some young folks in the singing seats that lack training,” said Arctura, and then she dismissed that subject. “You put me in mind of that ‘Polly Perkins’ someway,” she remarked, sitting down in the big kitchen rocker, and pulling the little girl into her lap. “To be sure, your name’s Mary, and, of course, favor’s a deceitful thing and beauty’s a vain snare, but someway you brought that song to mind when you were crimping those pie edges.”
“I don’t believe I’m much like a queen, Miss Arctura,” said Polly, greatly pleased, but a little confused. “I haven’t any crown, you see, or any trailing dresses, and I haven’t anything to be proud about. I expect queens look like this, don’t you?” and, springing to her feet, Polly tossed back her head and stood with her chin raised and her small nose tilted up into the air, gazing out of the window.
“Mercy me, that’s almost like play acting!” cried Arctura. “I guess Hiram can teach you gestures easy enough. I understand you’re going to commit ‘On Linden.’ Well, it’s a real stirring piece, and it’ll give you good exercise. Hiram’s all over the lot, when he says it. He rehearsed it to me last night, and I said to him he’d got to bear in mind that little girls weren’t grown men, and not keep you thrashing round, stooping down, and reaching up every last living minute. I pointed out a few places where he could omit some of his arm work, and he’s going to do so. I shall expect to be invited to a performance when you get it all learned.”
“Yes, indeed,” said Polly, gayly, “and perhaps Miss Pomeroy would come, too. I know some pieces that Uncle Blodgett taught me, but they hadn’t any gestures except a bow at the beginning and one at the end. And Mr. Hiram must know other poems, doesn’t he?”
“He’s full of ’em as a nut is of meat,” laughed Arctura, “both prose pieces and poetry, and all he wants is opportunity. Why, I’ve heard him many a time, spouting away to himself in the barn, but I’ve never taken any notice, for you give an inch to these people that recite, and they’ll take an ell quick enough; it’s just like starting a leak. But a regular performance, such as you speak of, with different ones taking part, I believe Miss Hetty would enjoy it for once, anyway; she don’t have much to amuse her.”
“And you would sing?” asked Polly, eagerly.
“Um-m—’twould be according to whether I could depend on my voice. I could try it with the scales, I expect, late in the afternoon,” said Arctura, “and then we could give the entertainment right after supper, soon as the dishes were cleared up. Goodness me! look at that clock! It’s most half-past ten!” and then there was a busy time in the kitchen until the noon hour brought dinner and rest.