Read Jessie's Parrot Page 10


  X.

  _A GAME OF CHARACTERS._

  At home or at school, studying, working or playing--for the latter shehad little heart now--Gracie could not shake off the weight that wasupon her mind and spirits. Even her work for the fair had lost itsinterest; and as for the mat, Nellie's mat, she could not bear thesight of it. She went to sleep at night thinking of it, and trying tocontrive some way out of her difficulty, though she would not listen tothe voice of her conscience which whispered that there was but one way;and she woke in the morning with the feeling that something dreadfulhad happened. Appetite and spirits failed; she grew fretful andirritable, and her mother imagined that she must be ill, though Gracieresolutely persisted that there was nothing the matter with her, andthat she felt quite well.

  "Gracie," said Mrs. Howard one morning after three or four days hadpassed, "it appears to me that you are not doing much on your mat. Howis that?"

  "I don't care," answered Gracie, fretfully. "I don't believe I'llfinish it. I'm tired of the old thing."

  "That will not do, my child," said her mother. "You have undertaken todo this for your grandmamma and for the fair, and I cannot have youstop it now without some good reason. Bring the mat to me."

  Gracie went for the mat very unwillingly, though she dared not refusenor even show her reluctance.

  "It really does you credit," said Mrs. Howard, taking it from herhands: "it is so smooth and even, and you have kept it so neat. Butyou must be more industrious, dear, if you are to have it finishedin time. And see, Gracie," she continued, looking at it more closely,"these last few lines look not _quite_ as nicely as the rest. There isa difference in the work, and you will have to take more pains than youhave done here. It looks almost as if another person had worked it. Youhave not let any one help you with it, have you?"

  "No, mamma," replied Gracie in a low tone and with a frightenedfeeling. Was there really such a difference between her work andNellie's that it was so easily detected?

  It had not occurred either to her or to Hattie, perhaps they did notknow, that the work of two different hands seldom or never matches wellupon embroidery in worsted, and that it is almost sure to be perceived.She was dismayed at the thought that her mother had noticed this, andnow every stitch that she took seemed to make the difference moreplain, take what pains she might.

  She began to feel angry and indignant at Hattie for leading her intothis sin, shutting her eyes to the fact that, if she had not allowedproud and jealous thoughts to creep into her heart, temptation wouldnot have had so much influence over her.

  She no longer took any pleasure in the society of her little friend,and shrank from her in a way that Hattie perceived, and by which shewas hurt; for she was disposed in her own mind to throw all the blameupon Hattie, forgetting that she was really the most to blame, sinceshe had been better taught, and saw more clearly the difference betweenright and wrong.

  As for Nellie, poor, innocent, injured Nellie, Gracie felt as if shecould not bear the sight of her; and when she saw in what a gentle,patient spirit she took her great misfortune,--for so all the childrenconsidered it,--she grew more and more ashamed and lowered in her ownsight. Pride and self-esteem could not now blind her to the fact thatNellie was better, far better, than herself.

  Meanwhile the change in Gracie was exciting the wonder of all, thepity of some, of her young friends and schoolmates. Only Hattie heldthe clew to it; and she was surprised that such "a trifle," as sheconsidered it, should have such an effect upon Gracie and make her sounhappy.

  But Gracie was not a really bad or deceitful child, although she hadsuffered herself to be led so far astray. She was not naturally moreunkind or selfish than most of us who have not the love and fear ofGod before us; indeed she was what children call "generous" in givingor sharing what she had, and she was always glad to do a helpfulor obliging act for another. But she had always trusted to her ownstrength, and believed she could not fall, and now she was learningthat her high thoughts of herself, and her carelessness of what sheconsidered little faults, had made her an easy prey to temptation andthe indulgence of a foolish pride and jealousy had led her into thisgreat sin into which she had not imagined she could fall. But althoughshe saw this now, she was not truly repentant; for she would not takethe only right and true way to make amends; and spent her time wishingvain wishes, and trying to contrive some way out of her difficultywithout bringing disgrace upon herself or losing her character forhonor and truthfulness among her young companions. It troubled Graciefar less to think how she already stood in the eyes of God, than it didto imagine how she might appear in the sight of her earthly friends ifthis thing were known.

  There was a small children's party at Mrs. Bradford's. Gracie did notcare to go; indeed she would much rather not have done so: but hermother had accepted for her, and she had no good excuse for stayingaway.

  She was more restless and miserable than usual that afternoon: sheset up her opinion against that of all the rest, found fault with herplaymates in every game that was begun, was more than usually sure thatshe knew every thing and could do better than any one else, and, nothaving her wits and thoughts about her, miserably failed in all theplays in which she meant to shine.

  "What shall we play now?" asked Bessie at length, when they had alltired of some romping game.

  "Let's take a little rest, and play 'Characters,'" said Gracie, who wasvery good in this, having no match among her present playmates saveMaggie.

  "Well," said Maggie, willing to please her if possible, although shesaw some objections to the game just now; "we'll play it; but it israther hard for the younger ones, so we must take easy characters.Who'll go out?"

  "I will," said Lily; "but mind you do take an easy one. Somebody weknow very well, not any history or jography character. I don't want tobother my head about lesson people when I'm playing."

  "Very well," said Maggie; and Lily went out, singing loudly in the hallthat she might "be sure and not hear."

  "Let's take Cromwell," said Gracie, always anxious, no matter what herframe of mind, to display her knowledge.

  "No," said Maggie, "that's too hard for Lily; and she wants us to takesome one we know."

  "I should think any goose might know about Cromwell," said Gracie.

  "We did not know about him till a few weeks ago," said Dora Johnson."We've only just had him in our history, and I don't b'lieve Lily knowsmuch about him."

  "Then take Lafayette," said Gracie.

  "Lily means some of the people we have in our own lives," said Bessie."Make haste: she'll be tired."

  This was seconded by Lily's voice calling from without, "Why don't youmake haste? I should think you were choosing a hundred people."

  "Let's take Flossey," said Belle, looking at the dog, who had jumpedupon a chair beside Maggie, where he sat with a wise and sedate air asif he were listening to all that passed, and ready to take his share inthe game.

  This was agreed upon by all but Gracie, who declared that it was"ridiculous to choose a dog," and she had "a great mind not to play thegame in such an absurd way."

  Lily was called in and proceeded to ask her questions.

  "Male or female?" was the first, beginning at Dora.

  "Male," answered Dora.

  "Black or white?" asked Lily.

  "Neither," said Belle, who was next in turn, "least he's not black atall; but he's some white."

  Lily looked rather puzzled at this.

  "And what color besides is he?"

  "Brown," answered Bessie.

  "A brown and white man," said Lily. "Oh! I know. It's old black Peter."

  "No, no, no," echoed around the circle.

  "Not one scrap of Peter is white," said Mamie Stone. "He's the blackestold man I ever saw."

  "Part of his eyes are white and his teeth too," said Lily, who wasgenerally pretty sure of her ground when she stated a fact. "Where doeshe live?"

  "In this country," said Nellie.

  "In this city?"

  "Yes," answ
ered Maggie.

  "Is he good or bad?"

  "Good, most generally," answered Mabel; "only sometimes prettymischievous."

  "Oh," said Lily, light beginning to break upon her. "Can he talk?"

  "He tan't talt, but he tan bart pretty well," said Frankie, to whom thequestion fell.

  "Oh! oh! that's too plain," cried one and another laughing; and Maggie,thinking Frankie did not understand the game well enough to be allowedto go out, gave a hint to Lily, but not wishing to hurt her littlebrother's feelings took refuge in the French language, and said:--

  "Ne _guessez_ pas a lui."

  Frankie, however, was too sharp for her; there was not much thatescaped him, and he exclaimed in a very aggrieved tone that it was"not fair," and that Lily should guess at him.

  So Lily said "Flossey" was the character; and, amid much laughter, theyoung gentleman betook himself to the hall with a pompous air, tellingthe little girls to make haste.

  "Let's take himself," said Bessie, which being agreed upon, Frankie wascalled back almost before he was well out of the room.

  "Is he blat or white?" he asked, following Lily's example, andbeginning as she had done at Dora.

  "He's white," said Dora laughing; and, in obedience to a suggestionfrom Maggie to help him out, she added,--"white, with brown eyes andred cheeks and brown hair."

  "Flossey," cried Frankie triumphantly.

  "No, no; not Flossey again," said the children.

  "Does he have four feets?" asked the little boy.

  "No, only two," said Belle.

  "Does he live in the stable?" asked Frankie.

  "No, he lives in this house," said Bessie.

  "Blackie," said Frankie, who was unable to give up the idea that sinceit was not Flossey it must be the little pony owned by his sisters.

  "Does he eat hay?" was his next question.

  "No," answered Nellie, "he eats fruit and meat and bread and milk, and,oh! how he does love sugar and candy!"

  "Me," cried Frankie, feeling that this description exactly suitedhimself.

  The character having been guessed at Nellie she now went out, andMaggie, willing to put Gracie in a good humor if possible, asked herwho they should take this time.

  "Mary, Queen of Scots," answered Gracie promptly.

  It was not altogether probable that the younger children knew much ofthis unfortunate lady, but Gracie's choice was acceded to and Nelliecalled.

  "Male or female?" was of course the first question.

  "Female," answered Dora.

  "Old or young?"

  "Um--m--m, pretty old," said Belle; "at least she was grown up."

  "Is she alive now?"

  "No," answered Bessie.

  "Where did she live?"

  "Well," said Lily, "she lived in a good many places. But not in thiscountry. Generally in France or Scotland."

  "Oh," said Nellie to whom this answer gave an inkling of the truth; butshe passed on to the next.

  "Was she good or bad, Maggie?"

  "Some think her quite celestial and some think her quite infernal,"answered Maggie with grand emphasis; "but on the whole I think she wasnot either, only rather middling like the most of us."

  Nellie felt more confident than ever; but not caring to risk one of herthree guesses as yet, she passed on. The questions she put to Mabel andFrankie were simple and very easily answered; then came Gracie's turn.

  "What was she celebrated for?"

  "For cruelty and persecuting people," answered Gracie confidently; andNellie's idea was at once put to flight by the reply.

  "That's a mistake," said Dora. "You are thinking of another character,Gracie."

  "I'm not, either," said Gracie. "Don't I know history better than anyof you?"

  "You don't know _that_, anyway," said Maggie. "Gracie, you _are_ wrong._She_ was not the character you are thinking of, and was not celebratedfor that."

  "But she _was_," persisted Gracie.

  "Nellie," said Maggie, "you need not guess by what Gracie has told you,for she is not right."

  "I'll put my question another way," said Nellie. "Can I ask Gracie onceagain?"

  All agreed and Nellie asked,--

  "Was she celebrated for her beauty and her misfortunes?"

  "I shan't tell you," said Gracie snappishly. "If I do, I shan't bebelieved, but they'll all go and contradict me. I suppose I know whatI know; and any of you might be proud if you knew as much history as Ido and had kept the head of the class so long."

  Gracie had for a moment forgotten how disgracefully she had lost herplace at the head of the history class, but the silence that followedher ill-tempered speech brought it back to her and increased hervexation.

  "You all think you know so much," she said, throwing herself backsullenly in her chair.

  Bessie had begged Lily to bear with Gracie and not to aggravate heras she seemed so miserable and out of spirits, and Lily had been veryforbearing; at least, so she thought. But now her small stock ofpatience was quite exhausted and she exclaimed vehemently:--

  "Gracie, we try to stand you; we do try with all our might and main;but you use up every bit of standing there is in me!"

  This did not mend matters in Gracie's present state of mind, but led toa pretty severe quarrel between her and Lily which the others vainlytried to heal, Lily being rather provoking, and Gracie obstinatelysullen and ill-tempered.

  It ended in a violent burst of tears from the latter, and a declarationthat she would go home at once. But this was impossible, since it wasnow evening; and the children's supper-time being near at hand, Mrs.Bradford could not just then spare a servant to go home with Gracie.

  No soothing or coaxing proved of any avail, nor did Lily's repentance;for she was sorry now that she had been provoking, and would readilyhave kissed and made up if Gracie could have been persuaded to do so.

  Gracie said that she would not stay where Lily was, and went sulkilyupstairs to the room where Maggie and Bessie slept.