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Little Maid of Province Town, A

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<h2>CHAPTER X</h2> <h3>SAFE AT HOME</h3> It was late in the evening when the three tired, hungry children reached the settlement. Amanda and Amos ran up the path to their door and Anne plodded on toward Mrs. Stoddard’s, nearly a half mile from the Cary house. There was not a light to be seen in the village, but Anne could see the shining lanterns on the “Somerset” sending narrow rays of light across the water. But she was too tired to think of the British ship, or of anything except how good it would be to sleep in a real bed again. At Mrs. Stoddard’s door she stood for a moment wondering if she could not creep in and up-stairs without waking Uncle Enos and Aunt Martha; she tried the door softly, but it was bolted, so she rattled the latch and called, “Aunt Martha! Uncle Enos!” a sudden fear filling her heart that they might not hear her and that she might have to sleep on the door-step. But in an instant she heard steps hurrying 108 across the kitchen floor, the big bolt was pulled back, the door swung open, and Anne was warmly clasped in Aunt Martha’s arms. Uncle Enos hurried close behind her, and Anne was drawn into the kitchen with many exclamations of wonder and joy. “Light a candle that we may look at her,” said Aunt Martha, “and start up a fire. ’Tis a chilly night, and the child must have some warm porridge.” It was not long before the fire was burning brightly, a kettle of hot water bubbling cheerfully, that Anne might have a warm bath to rest and soothe her tired limbs, and Anne, sitting on Aunt Martha’s lap, was eating a bowl of hot porridge and telling the story of her adventures. “House Point Island, eh?” said Uncle Enos; “’Tis lucky there was an island just there, even so low a one as that. In a hundred years or so the tides and waves will sweep it away.” Anne told of the brush-covered shelter, of Amos making a fire and cooking the fish, and of their journey home, while her kind friends listened eagerly. “We feared the boat had been carried out to sea and that our little maid was lost,” said Aunt 109 Martha, “and the men have looked for you all about the shore. The ‘Somerset’ is in harbor and its crew are doing much mischief on shore, so that we have had much to disturb us. What a tangle of hair this is for me to brush out,” she added, passing a tender hand over Anne’s dark locks. How good the warm water felt to Anne’s bruised feet; and she was sure that nothing ever tasted so good as the porridge. The rough hair was brushed into smooth braids, and it was a very happy little girl who went to sleep in the upper chamber with her wooden doll beside her, and the white kitten curled up on the foot of her bed. “I’m glad I’m not a little Indian girl,” was Anne’s last thought before she went to sleep. It was late the next morning when she awoke. Her soiled and torn clothes were not to be seen, but a dress of clean cotton and a fresh pinafore lay on the wooden stool. “My, it’s nice to be clean,” thought Anne, remembering the uncomfortable efforts that she and Amanda had made to wash their faces in water from the island spring. “It’s near noon, dear child,” said Mrs. Stoddard, 110 as Anne came into the kitchen. “You shall have a boiled egg for your breakfast, and I am cooking a fine johnnycake for you before the fire. You must be nigh starved. To think of that Amos Cary hiding the oar instead of fetching you straight home.” “But he worked all the time to make a house for us, and to cook the fish,” explained Anne, “and he speaks well of my father. I like him better than when he called me names.” “Of course you do, child; and I did not think him so smart a boy as he proves. ’twas no small thing to start a fire as he did.” “’twas Amanda made him come home,” said Anne; “she told him we would walk through the water to the Point, and then he said he would fetch us.” “Your Uncle Enos thinks Amos may make a good sailor,” said Aunt Martha. “Indeed, if it were not for these British ships hovering about our shores it is likely that Skipper Cary would have been off to the Banks and taken Amos with him.” The “Banks” were the fishing grounds off the island of Newfoundland, and for several years the Cape Cod fishermen had made summer 111 cruises there, coming home with big cargoes of fine fish which they sold in the Boston market at excellent prices. These fishing grounds were called the “Banks,” because of the heavy banks of fog which settled down in that region. After Anne had finished her breakfast she went to Mrs. Stoddard’s big work-basket, and took out her knitting-work. “May I not knit a long time to-day, Aunt Martha?” she asked. “My feet ache sorely, and I should like well to knit.” “That is right,” answered Mrs. Stoddard, nodding her approval. “Your Uncle Enos drove Brownie over the hill where the sailors from the ‘Somerset’ will not be like to see her, and we will both stay indoors to-day and knit. Maybe we shall begin to read to-day, also.” “After I have knit a good stint,” said Anne, “for ’twill be time for stockings soon.” It was a happy morning for the little girl. She worked steadily and carefully until Captain Enos came up from the shore for his noon meal. “Well, well,” he said smilingly, “now this seems good—to see our little maid safe at home by the window with her knitting. I saw Mistress Starkweather as I came home, and she 112 bade me tell you she should walk this way to see you this afternoon. ’Tis a great day for Amos,” continued the captain; “he tells all the boys in the village of his great adventure in rounding Long Point and living two days on an island. You’d think he’d seen Terra del Fuego, to say the least.” <div class='figcenter'> <ANTIMG src='images/illus-116.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 311px; height: 464px;' /> SHE WORKED STEADILY </div> “And what is Terra del Fuego?” asked Anne wonderingly. <div>113</div> “’Tis a far island, Anne, in warm southern seas, such a distance as few Cape Cod sailors ever go; though we go to most places, I will say,” he added with a hearty laugh. “Amos and Jimmie Starkweather were all for sailing off this morning to bring the dory home,” he continued, “but a boatload of the ‘Somerset’s’ men stopped them and sent them ashore, threatening to dismast any sloop that put up a sail in this harbor without their permission.” Anne knit steadily on, thinking of her father, and wondering if these men on board the “Somerset” had any knowledge of him. But she asked no questions, knowing that Captain Enos would tell her if any news came. The scarlet stockings had made good progress when Mistress Starkweather was seen coming 114 up the sandy path. Anne ran to the door to meet her, and the good woman kissed her heartily. “To think of the danger you were in, dear child,” she said, as Anne led her into the sunny kitchen and drew out the most comfortable chair for her. “Amos was not afraid,” said Anne, “but Amanda and I did wish ourselves home.” “I’ll warrant that boy would not be afraid of the water, storm or no storm,” said Mrs. Stoddard, drawing her own chair near to her neighbor’s; “yet Captain Enos tells that he fled from our Anne here when she threw water at him,” and the two women smiled, remembering the little girl’s loyal defense of her absent father. “School is to begin next Monday, if all goes well,” continued Mrs. Starkweather, “and beside that the minister declared we must all come more punctually to church. Last Sunday there were but seven in the meeting-house,” and Mrs. Starkweather’s face grew sober. “I shall not have time to learn to read long words before Monday,” said Anne anxiously. “I planned to teach the child a little before school begins,” explained Mrs. Stoddard, “from Captain Enos’s ‘Pilgrim’s Progress.’ 115 His mother bought the book in Boston, and he treasures it.” “And no wonder,” replied Mrs. Starkweather; “beside the Bible there are few books in any household in the settlement. I doubt if the minister can lay claim to a half dozen. He has his knowledge in his head.” “And so should all people have,” said Mrs. Stoddard. “Anne, go to the big red chest in my bedroom and take out the book that lays there and fetch it to me. Mayhap Mistress Starkweather would like to see it.” Anne quickly obeyed. The big red chest was one that Captain Enos had carried when he went on whaling voyages. It had handles of twisted rope, and a huge padlock swung from an iron loop in front. Anne lifted the top and reached in after the book; but the chest was deep; there were only a few articles on the bottom of the chest, and she could not reach it. So she pushed the lid back until it rested against the wall, and stepped into the chest, stooping down to pick up the book. As she leaned over, bang,—down came the lid to the chest, shutting Anne closely in. For an instant the child was too frightened to move, as she lay on her face in 116 the big chest; then she tried to sit up, and found she could not. She tried to call “Aunt Martha,” but her voice sounded thick and muffled. In the kitchen the two neighbors sat waiting for Anne and the book. “Anne! Anne!” called Mrs. Stoddard. “Why, the child is usually so spry. I wonder what keeps her,” and she went into the bedroom. “Did Anne slip out while we talked?” she called back to Mrs. Starkweather. “She’s not here.” Just then there came a sound from the chest. “Pity’s sake!” exclaimed Mrs. Stoddard. “I do believe Anne is in the chest,” and she hastened to swing back the big lid and to lift the half-stifled child out. “Did you ever!” she said. “How came you in the chest, child?” “I got in to get the book and the lid fell on me,” half whispered Anne, clinging to Mrs. Stoddard’s skirts. “Well, well, child, there is no harm done,” said Mrs. Stoddard, “but ’Tis not a safe thing to get into chests. I will get the book. I thought your arms were longer,” and Mrs. Stoddard 117 reached into the sea-chest and drew out a long black-covered book. “It has many pictures,” she said. “I wonder I have not shown it to Anne before.” Mrs. Starkweather looked at the book admiringly, and Mrs. Stoddard took Anne in her lap that they might all enjoy the pictures together. “Look,” she said; “here is Christian setting forth on his journey, and here are Obstinate and Pliable, two of his neighbors, following him to urge him to come home.” Anne looked at the picture eagerly. She had never seen pictures in a book before, and it seemed very wonderful to her. “It is a good story,” said Mrs. Starkweather. “True, it is said to be but a dream, but I read it in my youth and liked it well. It has been a treat to see it, Mrs. Stoddard. ’Tis seldom I have so care-free an afternoon. Six boys to look after keep me busy,” and the good woman rose from her chair and with cordial words of good-bye started for home. “I wish I could read this book,” said Anne, turning the leaves over carefully and wondering what the pictures meant. 118 “So you shall. We’ll read a little now. Come, you shall spell out the words, and I will speak them for you and tell you their meaning.” An hour later when Captain Enos stepped into the kitchen he declared that he thought school had begun there; and while Mrs. Stoddard hurried about to prepare supper Uncle Enos continued Anne’s reading lesson. “Perhaps I can read this book after I go to school,” said Anne. “That you can,” answered the captain. “And I will learn to write,” said Anne, “and it may be I could send a letter to my dear father.” “That is a good child,” said Captain Enos, patting the dark head; “learn to write and we’ll set about starting the letter to your father as soon as you have it ready.” “I shall have much to tell him,” said Anne, smiling up into Uncle Enos’s kind face. “And he’ll have a good deal to tell you,” replied Captain Enos. “I wish I could see him myself. I’d like news of what’s going on in Boston.” <hr class='major' /> 119 <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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