CHAPTER XI. NEEDLES AND TONGUES
DEAR POLLY, The Sewing Circle meets at our house this P. M. This is inyour line, so do come and help me through. I shall depend on you.
Yours ever, FAN.
"Bad news, my dear?" asked Miss Mills, who had just handed the note toPolly as she came in one noon, a few weeks after Jenny's arrival.
Polly told her what it was, adding, "I suppose I ought to go and helpFanny, but I can't say I want to. The girls talk about things I havenothing to do with, and I don't find their gossip very amusing. I'm anoutsider, and they only accept me on Fan's account; so I sit in a cornerand sew, while they chatter and laugh."
"Would n't it be a good chance to say a word for Jenny? She wants work,and these young ladies probably have quantities done somewhere. Jennydoes fine work exquisitely, and begins to feel anxious to be earningsomething. I don't want her to feel dependent and unhappy, and a littlewell-paid sewing would be all she needs to do nicely. I can get it forher by running round to my friends, but I really have n't the time, tillI get the Mullers off. They are paupers here, but out West they can takecare of themselves, so I've begged the money to send them, and as soonas I can get them some clothes, off they go. That's the way to helppeople help themselves," and Miss Mills clashed her big scissorsenergetically, as she cut out a little red flannel shirt.
"I know it is, and I want to help, but I don't know where to begin,"said Polly, feeling quite oppressed with the immensity of the work.
"We can't any of us do all we would like, but we can do our best forevery case that comes to us, and that helps amazingly. Begin with Jenny,my dear; tell those girls about her, and if I'm not much mistaken, youwill find them ready to help, for half the time it is n't hardness ofheart, but ignorance or thoughtlessness on the part of the rich, thatmakes them seem so careless of the poor."
"To tell the truth, I'm afraid of being laughed at, if I try to talkseriously about such things to the girls," said Polly, frankly.
"You believe that'such things' are true? You are sincere in your wishto help better them, and you respect those who work for that end?"
"Yes, I do."
"Then, my dear, can't you bear a little ridicule for the sake of a goodcause? You said yesterday that you were going to make it a principle ofyour life, to help up your sex as far and as fast as you could. It didmy heart good to hear you say it, for I was sure that in time you wouldkeep your word. But, Polly, a principle that can't bear being laughedat, frowned on, and cold-shouldered, is n't worthy of the name."
"I want to be strong-minded in the real sense of the word, but I don'tlike to be called so by people who don't understand my meaning; andI shall be if I try to make the girls think soberly about anythingsensible or philanthropic. They call me old-fashioned now, and I'drather be thought that, though it is n't pleasant, than be set down asa rampant woman's rights reformer," said Polly, in whose memory manylaughs, and snubs, and sarcasms still lingered, forgiven but notforgotten.
"This love and thought and care for those weaker, poorer, or worse thanourselves, which we call Christian charity, is a very old fashion, mydear. It began eighteen hundred years ago, and only those who honestlyfollow the beautiful example set us then, learn how to get genuinehappiness out of life. I'm not a'rampant woman's rights reformer,'"added Miss Mills, with a smile at Polly's sober face; "but I think thatwomen can do a great deal for each other, if they will only stop fearingwhat'people will think,' and take a hearty interest in whatever isgoing to fit their sisters and themselves to deserve and enjoy therights God gave them. There are so many ways in which this can be done,that I wonder they don't see and improve them. I don't ask you to go andmake speeches, only a few have the gift for that, but I do want everygirl and woman to feel this duty, and make any little sacrifice of timeor feeling that may be asked of them, because there is so much to do,and no one can do it as well as ourselves, if we only think so."
"I'll try!" said Polly, influenced more by her desire to keep MissMills' good opinion than any love of self-sacrifice for her sex. It wasrather a hard thing to ask of a shy, sensitive girl, and the kind oldlady knew it, for in spite of the gray hair and withered face, her heartwas very young, and her own girlish trials not forgotten. But sheknew also that Polly had more influence over others than she herselfsuspected, simply because of her candid, upright nature; and that whileshe tried to help others, she was serving herself in a way that wouldimprove heart and soul more than any mere social success she might gainby following the rules of fashionable life, which drill the characterout of girls till they are as much alike as pins in a paper, and haveabout as much true sense and sentiment in their little heads. There wasgood stuff in Polly, unspoiled as yet, and Miss Mills was only actingout her principle of women helping each other. The wise old lady sawthat Polly had reached that point where the girl suddenly blooms intoa woman, asking something more substantial than pleasure to satisfy thenew aspirations that are born; a time as precious and important to theafter-life, as the hour when the apple blossoms fall, and the youngfruit waits for the elements to ripen or destroy the harvest.
Polly did not know this, and was fortunate in possessing a friend whoknew what influences would serve her best, and who could give her whatall women should desire to give each other, the example of a sweet, goodlife, more eloquent and powerful than any words; for this is a right noone can deny us.
Polly turned the matter over in her mind as she dressed, while Jennyplayed waiting maid, little dreaming what this new friend was meaning todo for her, if she dared.
"Is it going to be a tea-party, Miss?" asked Jenny, as the black silkwent rustling on, to her great admiration, for she considered Polly abeauty.
"Well, no, I think it will probably be a lecture," answered Polly,laughing, for Jenny's grateful service and affectionate eyes confirmedthe purpose which Miss Mills' little homily had suggested.
As she entered the Shaws' parlor an hour or two later, an appallingarray of well-dressed girls appeared, each provided with a daintyreticule, basket, or bag, and each tongue going a good deal faster thanthe needle, while the white fingers stitched sleeves in upside down, putflannel jackets together hind part before, or gobbled button-holes withthe best intentions in life.
"You are a dear to come so early. Here's a nice place for you betweenBelle and Miss Perkins, and here's a sweet little dress to make, unlessyou like something else better," said Fanny, receiving her friend withwarmth and placing her where she thought she would enjoy herself.
"Thank you, I'll take an unbleached cotton shirt if you have such athing, for it is likely to be needed before a cambric frock," repliedPolly, subsiding into her corner as quickly as possible, for at least sixeye-glasses were up, and she did n't enjoy being stared at.
Miss Perkins, a grave, cold-looking young lady, with an aristocraticnose, bowed politely, and then went on with her work, which displayedtwo diamond rings to great advantage. Belle, being of the demonstrativesort, smiled and nodded, drew up her chair, and began a whisperedaccount of Trix's last quarrel with Tom. Polly listened with interestwhile she sewed diligently, occasionally permitting her eyes to studythe elegant intricacies of Miss Perkins' dress, for that young lady satlike a statue, quirking her delicate fingers, and accomplishing abouttwo stitches a minute.
In the midst of Belle's story, a more exciting bit of gossip caught herear, and she plunged into the conversation going on across the table,leaving Polly free to listen and admire the wit, wisdom, and charitablespirit of the accomplished young ladies about her. There was a perfectBabel of tongues, but out of the confusion Polly gathered scraps offashionable intelligence which somewhat lessened her respect for thedwellers in high places. One fair creature asserted that Joe Somebodytook so much champagne at the last German, that he had to be got away,and sent home with two servants. Another divulged the awful fact thatCarrie P.'s wedding presents were half of them hired for the occasion.A third circulated a whisper to the effect that though Mrs. Buckminsterwore a thousand-dollar cloak, her boys
were not allowed but one sheet totheir beds. And a fourth young gossip assured the company that a certainperson never had offered himself to a certain other person, thoughthe report was industriously spread by interested parties. This latterremark caused such a clamor that Fanny called the meeting to order in amost unparliamentary fashion.
"Girls! girls! you really must talk less and sew more, or our societywill be disgraced. Do you know our branch sent in less work than any ofthe others last month, and Mrs. Fitz George said, she did n't see howfifteen young ladies could manage to do so little?"
"We don't talk a bit more than the old ladies do. I just wish you couldhave heard them go on, last time. The way they get so much done, is,they take work home, and make their seamstresses do it, and then theytake credit for vast industry," said Belle, who always spoke her mindwith charming candor.
"That reminds me that mamma says they want as many things as we canmake, for it's a hard winter, and the poor are suffering very much. Doany of you wish to take articles home, to do at odd times?" said Fan,who was president of this energetic Dorcas Society.
"Mercy, no! It takes all my leisure time to mend my gloves and refreshmy dresses," answered Belle.
"I think if we meet once a week, it is all that should be expected ofus, with our other engagements. Poor people always complain that thewinter is a hard one, and never are satisfied," remarked Miss Perkins,making her diamonds sparkle as she sewed buttons on the wrong side of apink calico apron, which would hardly survive one washing.
"Nobody can ask me to do any more, if they remember all I've got toattend to before summer," said Trix, with an important air. "I've gotthree women hard at work, and want another, but everyone is so busy, andask such abominable prices, that I'm in despair, and shall have to takehold myself, I'm afraid."
"There's a chance for Jane," thought Polly, but had n't courage "tospeak out loud in meeting," just then, and resolved to ask Trix forwork, in private.
"Prices are high, but you forget how much more it costs to live now thanit used to do. Mamma never allows us to beat down workwomen, but wishesus to pay them well, and economize in some other way, if we must," saidEmma Davenport, a quiet, bright-eyed girl, who was called "odd" amongthe young ladies, because she dressed simply, when her father was amillionaire.
"Just hear that girl talk about economy! I beg your pardon, she's somerelation of yours, I believe!" said Belle, in a low tone.
"Very distant; but I'm proud of it; for with her, economy does n't meanscrimping in one place to make a show in another. If every one wouldfollow the Davenports' example, workwomen would n't starve, or servantsbe such a trouble. Emma is the plainest dressed girl in the room, nextto me, yet any one can see she is a true gentlewoman," said Polly,warmly.
"And you are another," answered Belle, who had always loved Polly, inher scatter-brained way.
"Hush! Trix has the floor."
"If they spent their wages properly, I should n't mind so much, but theythink they must be as fine as anybody, and dress so well that it is hardto tell mistress from maid. Why our cook got a bonnet just like mine(the materials were cheaper, but the effect was the same), and had theimpertinence to wear it before my face. I forbid it, and she left, ofcourse, which made papa so cross he would n't give me the camel's hairshawl he promised this year."
"It's perfectly shameful!" said Miss Perkins, as Trix paused out ofbreath. "Servants ought to be made to dress like servants, as they doabroad; then we should have no more trouble," observed Miss Perkins, whohad just made the grand tour, and had brought home a French maid.
"Perky don't practise as she preaches," whispered Belle to Polly, asMiss P. became absorbed in the chat of her other neighbors. "She paysher chamber girl with old finery; and the other day, when Betsey was outparading in her missis's cast-off purple plush suit, Mr. Curtis thoughtshe was mademoiselle, and bowed to her. He is as blind as a bat, butrecognized the dress, and pulled off his hat to it in the most elegantstyle. Perky adores him, and was mad enough to beat Betsey when she toldthe story and giggled over it. Betsey is quite as stylish and ever somuch prettier than Perky, and she knows it, which is an aggravation."
Polly could n't help laughing, but grew sober a minute after, as Trixsaid, pettishly, "Well, I'm sick of hearing about beggars; I believehalf of them are humbugs, and if we let them alone they'd go to workand take care of themselves. There's altogether too much fuss madeabout charity. I do wish we could be left in peace."
"There can't be too much charity!" burst out Polly, forgetting hershyness all at once.
"Oh, indeed! Well, I take the liberty to differ from you," returnedTrix, putting up her glass, and bestowing upon Polly her most"toploftical stare," as the girls called it.
I regret to say that Polly never could talk with or be near Trix withoutfeeling irritated and combative. She tried to conquer this feeling, butshe could n't, and when Trix put on airs, Polly felt an intense desireto box her ears. That eye-glass was her especial aversion, for Trix wasno more near-sighted than herself, but pretended to be because it wasthe fashion, and at times used the innocent glass as a weapon with whichto put down any one who presumed to set themselves up. The superciliousglance which accompanied her ironically polite speech roused Polly,who answered with sudden color and the kindling of the eyes that alwaysbetrayed a perturbed spirit, "I don't think many of us would enjoy thatselfish sort of peace, while little children starve, and girls no olderthan us kill themselves because their dreadful poverty leaves them nochoice but sin or death."
A sudden lull took place, for, though Polly, did not raise her voice, itwas full of indignant emotion, and the most frivolous girl there felta little thrill of sympathy; for the most utterly fashionable life doesnot kill the heart out of women, till years of selfish pleasure havepassed over their heads. Trix was ashamed of herself; but she felt thesame antagonism toward Polly, that Polly did toward her; and, being lessgenerous, took satisfaction in plaguing her. Polly did not know that thesecret of this was the fact that Tom often held her up as a model forhis fiance to follow, which caused that young lady to dislike her morethan ever.
"Half the awful stories in the papers are made up for a sensation, andit's absurd to believe them, unless one likes to be harrowed up. Idon't; and as for peace, I'm not likely to get much, while I have Tomto look after," said Trix, with an aggravating laugh.
Polly's needle snapped in two, but she did not mind it, as she said,with a look that silenced even sharp-tongued Trix, "I can't helpbelieving what my own eyes and ears have seen and heard. You lead suchsafe and happy lives, you can't imagine the misery that is all roundyou; but if you could get a glimpse of it, it would make your heartsache, as it has mine."
"Do you suffer from heartache? Some one hinted as much to me, but youlooked so well, I could n't believe it."
Now that was cruel in Trix, more cruel than any one guessed; but girls'tongues can deal wounds as sharp and sudden as the slender stilettoSpanish women wear in their hair, and Polly turned pale, as those wordsstabbed her. Belle saw it, and rushed to the rescue with more good-willthan wisdom.
"Nobody ever accused you of having any heart to ache with. Polly andI are not old enough yet to get tough and cool, and we are still sillyenough to pity unhappy people, Tom Shaw especially," added Belle, underher breath.
That was a two-edged thrust, for Trix was decidedly an old girl, and Tomwas generally regarded as a hapless victim. Trix turned red; but beforeshe could load and fire again, Emma Davenport, who labored under thedelusion that this sort of skirmishing was ill-natured, and thereforeill-bred, spoke up in her pleasant way, "Speaking of pitying the poor,I always wonder why it is that we all like to read and cry over theirtroubles in books, but when we have the real thing before us, we thinkit is uninteresting and disagreeable."
"It's the genius that gets into the books, which makes us like thepoverty, I fancy. But I don't quite agree that the real thing is n'tinteresting. I think it would be, if we knew how to look at and feelit," said Polly, very quietly, as she p
ushed her chair out of the arcticcircle of Miss Perkins, into the temperate one of friendly Emma.
"But how shall we learn that? I don't see what we girls can do, morethan we do now. We have n't much money for such things, should n't knowhow to use it if we had; and it is n't proper for us to go poking intodirty places, to hunt up the needy. 'Going about doing good, in ponyphaetons,' as somebody says, may succeed in England, but it won't workhere," said Fanny, who had begun, lately, to think a good deal of someone beside herself, and so found her interest in her fellow-beingsincreasing daily.
"We can't do much, perhaps, just yet; but still there are things leftundone that naturally fall to us. I know a house," said Polly, sewingbusily as she talked, "where every servant who enters it becomes anobject of interest to the mistress and her daughters. These women aretaught good habits, books are put where they can get them, sensibleamusements are planned for them sometimes, and they soon feel that theyare not considered mere scrubs, to do as much work as possible, for aslittle money as possible, but helpers in the family, who are loved andrespected in proportion to their faithfulness. This lady feels her dutyto them, owns it, and does it, as conscientiously as she wants them todo theirs by her; and that is the way it ought to be, I think."
As Polly paused, several keen eyes discovered that Emma's cheeks werevery red, and saw a smile lurking in the corners of the mouth that triedto look demure, which told them who Polly meant.
"Do the Biddies all turn out saints in that well regulated family?"asked the irrepressible Trix.
"No; few of us do that, even in the parlor; but every one of the Biddiesis better for being there, whether they are grateful or not. I ought notto have mentioned this, perhaps, but I wanted to show you one thing thatwe girls can do. We all complain about bad servants, most as much as ifwe were house-keepers ourselves; but it never occurs to us to try andmend the matter, by getting up a better spirit between mistress andmaid. Then there's another thing we can do," added Polly, warming up."Most of us find money enough for our little vanities and pleasures, butfeel dreadfully poor when we come to pay for work, sewing especially.Could n't we give up a few of the vanities, and pay the seamstressesbetter?"
"I declare I will!" cried Belle, whose conscience suddenly woke, andsmote her for beating down the woman who did her plain sewing, in orderthat she might have an extra flounce on a new dress. "Belle has got avirtuous fit; pity it won't last a week," said Trix.
"Wait and see," retorted Belle, resolving that it should last, justto disappoint "that spiteful minx;" as she sweetly called her oldschool-mate.
"Now we shall behold Belle galloping away at a great pace, on her newhobby. I should n't be surprised to hear of her preaching in the jail,adopting a nice dirty little orphan, or passing round tracts at aWoman's Rights meeting," said Trix, who never could forgive Belle forhaving a lovely complexion, and so much hair of her own that she neverpatronized either rats, mice, waterfalls, switches, or puff-combs.
"Well, I might do worse; and I think, of the two, I'd rather amusemyself so, than as some young ladies do, who get into the papers fortheir pranks," returned Belle, with a moral air.
"Suppose we have a little recess, and rest while Polly plays to us. Willyou, Polly? It will do us good; they all want to hear you, and begged I'd ask."
"Then I will, with pleasure"; and Polly went to the piano with suchobliging readiness, that several reproachful glances fell upon Trix, whodid n't need her glass to see them.
Polly was never too sad, perturbed, or lazy to sing, for it was almostas easy to her as breathing, and seemed the most natural outlet for heremotions. For a minute her hands wandered over the keys, as if uncertainwhat to play; then, falling into a sad, sweet strain, she sang "TheBridge of Sighs." Polly did n't know why she chose it, but the instinctseemed to have been a true one, for, old as the song was, it wentstraight to the hearts of the hearers, and Polly sung it better thanshe ever had before, for now the memory of little Jane lent it a tenderpathos which no art could give. It did them all good, for music is abeautiful magician, and few can resist its power. The girls were touchedby the appeal; Polly was lifted out of herself, and when she turnedround, the softened look on all the faces told her that for the momentfoolish differences and frivolous beliefs were forgotten in theone womanly sentiment of pity for the wrongs and woes of which thelisteners' happy lives were ignorant.
"That song always makes me cry, and feel as if I had no right to be socomfortable," said Belle, openly wiping her eyes on a crash towel.
"Fortunately such cases are very rare," said another young lady, whoseldom read the newspapers.
"I wish they were, but I'm afraid they are not; for only three weeksago, I saw a girl younger than any of us, and no worse, who tried todestroy herself simply because she was so discouraged, sick, and poor,"said Polly.
"Do tell about her," cried Belle, eagerly.
Feeling that the song had paved the way for the story, and given hercourage to tell it, Polly did tell it, and must have done it well, forthe girls stopped work to listen, and when she ended, other eyes besidewarm-hearted Belle's were wet. Trix looked quite subdued; Miss Perkinsthawed to such a degree, that something glittered on her hand as shebent over the pink pinafore again, better and brighter than her biggestdiamond; Emma got up and went to Polly with a face full of affectionaterespect, while Fanny, moved by a sudden impulse, caught up a costlySevres plate that stood on the etagere, and laying a five-dollar bill init, passed it round, quoting Polly's words, "Girls, I know you'll liketo help poor little Jenny'begin again, and do better this time.'"
It was good to see how quickly the pretty purses were out, howgenerously each gave of its abundance, and what hearty applause brokefrom the girls, as Belle laid down her gold thimble, saying with anApril face, "There, take that; I never have any money, somehow it won'tstay with me, but I can't let the plate pass me this time."
When Fanny brought the contributions to Polly, she just gathered it upin her two hands with such a glad, grateful face, the girls wished theyhad had more to give.
"I can't thank you enough," she said, with an eloquent little choke inher voice. "This will help Jenny very much; but the way in which it wasdone will do her more good than double the money, because it will proveto her that she is n't without friends, and make her feel that there isa place in the world for her. Let her work for you in return for this;she don't ask alms, she only wants employment and a little kindness, andthe best charity we can bestow is to see that she has both."
"I'll give her as much sewing as she wants, and she can stay at ourhouse while she does it, if she needs a home," said Trix, in a spasm ofbenevolence.
"She does n't need a home, thank you; Miss Mills has given half of hers,and considers Jane her child," answered Polly, with proud satisfactionin the fact.
"What an old dear!" cried Belle.
"I want to know her. May I?" whispered Emma.
"Oh, yes; I'm glad to make her known to any one. She is a quiet littleold lady, but she does one heaps of good, and shows you how to becharitable in the wisest way."
"Do tell us about it. I'm sure I want to do my duty, but it's such amuddle, I don't know how," said Belle.
Then, quite naturally, the conversation fell upon the great work thatnone should be too busy to think of, and which few are too young ortoo poor to help on with their mite. The faces grew more earnest, thefingers flew faster, as the quick young hearts and brains took in thenew facts, ideas, and plans that grew out of the true stories, thesensible hints, the successful efforts which Polly told them, fresh fromthe lips of Miss Mills; for, of late, Polly had talked much with thegood lady, and learned quickly the lessons her unselfish life conveyed.The girls found this more interesting than gossip, partly owing to itsnovelty, doubtless; but the enthusiasm was sincere while it lasted, anddid them good. Many of them forgot all about it in a week, but Polly'seffort was not lost, for Emma, Belle, and Fanny remained firm friendsto Jane, so kindly helping her that the poor child felt as if she hadindeed been bor
n again, into a new and happy world.
Not till long afterward did Polly see how much good this little efforthad done her, for the first small sacrifice of this sort leads the wayto others, and a single hand's turn given heartily to the world's greatwork helps one amazingly with one's own small tasks. Polly found thisout as her life slowly grew easier and brighter, and the beautiful lawof compensation gave her better purposes and pleasures than any she hadlost. The parents of some of her pupils were persons of real refinement,and such are always quick to perceive the marks of culture in others, nomatter where they find them. These, attracted first by Polly's cheerfulface, modest manners, and faithful work, soon found in her somethingmore than a good teacher; they found a real talent for music, an eagerdesire for helpful opportunities, and a heart grateful for the kindlysympathy that makes rough places smooth. Fortunately those who have theskill to detect these traits also possess the spirit to appreciate andoften the power to serve and develop them. In ways so delicate that themost sensitive pride could not resent the favor, these true gentlefolkshowed Polly their respect and regard, put many pleasures in her way,and when they paid her for her work, gave her also the hearty thanksthat takes away all sense of degradation even from the humblest service,for money so earned and paid sweetens the daily bread it buys, and makesthe mutual obligation a mutual benefit and pleasure.
A few such patrons did much for Polly, and the music she gave them hadan undertone of gratitude that left blithe echoes in those great houses,which money could not buy.
Then, as her butterfly acquaintances deserted her, she found her wayinto a hive of friendly bees, who welcomed her, and showed her how tofind the honey that keeps life sweet and wholesome. Through Miss Mills,who was the counsellor and comforter of several, Polly came to knowa little sisterhood of busy, happy, independent girls, who each had apurpose to execute, a talent to develop, an ambition to achieve, andbrought to the work patience and perseverance, hope and courage. HerePolly found her place at once, for in this little world love and libertyprevailed; talent, energy, and character took the first rank; money,fashion, and position were literally nowhere; for here, as in the bigworld outside, genius seemed to blossom best when poverty was headgardener. Young teachers, doing much work for little pay; young artists,trying to pencil, paint, or carve their way to Rome; young writers,burning to distinguish themselves; young singers, dreaming oftriumphs, great as those of Jenny Lind; and some who tried to conquerindependence, armed only with a needle, like poor Jane. All these helpedPolly as unconsciously as she helped them, for purpose and principle arethe best teachers we can have, and the want of them makes half the womenof America what they are, restless, aimless, frivolous, and sick.
To outsiders that was a very hard-working and uneventful winter toPolly. She thought so herself; but as spring came on, the seed of newvirtues, planted in the winter time, and ripened by the sunshine ofendeavor, began to bud in Polly's nature, betraying their presence toothers by the added strength and sweetness of her character, long beforeshe herself discovered these May flowers that had blossomed for herunderneath the snow.