The old gentleman still seemed to be talking to the frog, and as he spoke he took his hand out of his pocket with less in it than he had at first intended.
What a very queer person! thought Marjorie, for she had not heard a word, and wondered what he was thinking about down there.
Jack walked out of the brook just then, and she ran to check him up; not an easy task for little hands, as he preferred to nibble the grass on the bank. But she did it cleverly, smoothed the ruffled mane, and, dropping another curtsy, stood aside to let the little carriage pass.
Thank you, child thank you. Here is something for your bank, and good luck to it.
As he spoke, the old man laid a bright gold dollar in her hand, patted the rosy cheek, and vanished in a cloud of dust, leaving Marjorie so astonished at the grandeur of the gift, that she stood looking at it as if it had been a fortune. It was to her; and visions of pink calico[7] gowns, new grammars, and fresh hat-ribbons danced through her head in delightful confusion, as her eyes rested on the shining coin in her palm.
Then, with a solemn air, she invested her first money by popping it down the chimney of the scarlet mansion, and peeping in with one eye to see if it landed safely on the ground-floor. This done, she took a long breath, and looked over the railing to be sure it was not all a dream. No; the wheel marks were still there, the brown water was not yet clear, and, if a witness was needed, there sat the big frog again, looking so like the old gentleman, with his bottle-green coat, speckled trousers, and twinkling eyes, that Marjorie burst out laughing, and clapped her hands, saying aloud,
Ill play he was the Brownie, and this is the good-luck penny he gave me. Oh, what fun! and away she skipped, rattling the dear new bank like a castanet[8].
When she had told granny all about it, she got knife and basket, and went out to dig dandelions; for the desire to increase her fortune was so strong, she could not rest a minute. Up and down she went, so busily peering and digging, that she never lifted up her eyes till something like a great white bird skimmed by so low she could not help seeing it. A pleasant laugh sounded behind her as she started up, and, looking round, she nearly sat down again in sheer surprise, for there close by was a slender little lady, comfortably established under a big umbrella.
When she had told granny all about it, she got knife and basket, and went out to dig dandelions; for the desire to increase her fortune was so strong, she could not rest a minute. Up and down she went, so busily peering and digging, that she never lifted up her eyes till something like a great white bird skimmed by so low she could not help seeing it. A pleasant laugh sounded behind her as she started up, and, looking round, she nearly sat down again in sheer surprise, for there close by was a slender little lady, comfortably established under a big umbrella.
If there were any fairies, Id be sure that was one, thought Marjorie, staring with all her might, for her mind was still full of the old story; and curious things do happen on birthdays, as every one knows.
It really did seem rather elfish[9] to look up suddenly and see a lovely lady all in white, with shining hair and a wand in her hand, sitting under what looked very like a large yellow mushroom in the middle of a meadow, where, till now, nothing but cows and grasshoppers had been seen. Before Marjorie could decide the question, the pleasant laugh came again, and the stranger said, pointing to the white thing that was still fluttering over the grass like a little cloud,
Would you kindly catch my hat for me, before it blows quite away?
Down went basket and knife, and away ran Marjorie, entirely satisfied now that there was no magic about the new-comer; for if she had been an elf, couldnt she have got her hat without any help from a mortal child? Presently, however, it did begin to seem as if that hat was bewitched, for it led the nimble-footed Marjorie such a chase that the cows stopped feeding to look on in placid wonder; the grasshoppers vainly tried to keep up, and every ox-eye daisy did its best to catch the runaway, but failed entirely, for the wind liked a game of romps, and had it that day. As she ran, Marjorie heard the lady singing, like the princess in the story of the Goose-Girl,
Blow, breezes, blow!
Let Curdkins hat go!
Blow, breezes, blow!
Let him after it go!
Oer hills, dales and rocks,
Away be it whirled,
Till the silvery locks
Are all combed and curled.
This made her laugh so that she tumbled into a clover-bed, and lay there a minute to get her breath. Just then, as if the playful wind repented of its frolic, the long veil fastened to the hat caught in a blackberry-vine nearby, and held the truant fast till Marjorie secured it.
Now come and see what I am doing, said the lady, when she had thanked the child.
Marjorie drew near confidingly, and looked down at the wide-spread book before her. She gave a start, and laughed out with surprise and delight; for there was a lovely picture of her own little home, and her own little self on the door-step, all so delicate, and beautiful, and true, it seemed as if done by magic.
Oh, how pretty! There is Rover, and Kitty and the robins, and me! How could you ever do it, maam? said Marjorie, with a wondering glance at the long paint-brush, which had wrought what seemed a miracle to her childish eyes.
Ill show you presently; but tell me, first, if it looks quite right and natural to you. Children sometimes spy out faults that no one else can see, answered the lady, evidently pleased with the artless praise her work received.
It looks just like our house, only more beautiful. Perhaps that is because I know how shabby it really is. That moss looks lovely on the shingles, but the roof leaks. The porch is broken, only the roses hide the place; and my gown is all faded, though it once was as bright as you have made it. I wish the house and everything would stay pretty forever, as they will in the picture.
While Marjorie spoke, the lady had been adding more color to the sketch, and when she looked up, something warmer and brighter than sunshine shone in her face, as she said, so cheerily, it was like a birds song to hear her,
It cant be summer always, dear, but we can make fair weather for ourselves if we try. The moss, the roses, and soft shadows show the little house and the little girl at their best, and that is what we all should do; for it is amazing how lovely common things become, if one only knows how to look at them.
I wish I did, said Marjorie, half to herself, remembering how often she was discontented, and how hard it was to get on, sometimes.
So do I, said the lady, in her happy voice. Just believe that there is a sunny side to everything, and try to find it, and you will be surprised to see how bright the world will seem, and how cheerful you will be able to keep your little self.
I guess granny has found that out, for she never frets. I do, but Im going to stop it, because Im twelve today, and that is too old for such things, said Marjorie, recollecting the good resolutions she had made that morning when she woke.
I am twice twelve, and not entirely cured yet; but I try, and dont mean to wear blue spectacles if I can help it, answered the lady, laughing so blithely that Marjorie was sure she would not have to try much longer. Birthdays were made for presents, and I should like to give you one. Would it please you to have this little picture? she added, lifting it out of the book.
Truly my own? Oh, yes, indeed! cried Marjorie, coloring with pleasure, for she had never owned so beautiful a thing before.
Then you shall have it, dear. Hang it where you can see it often, and when you look, remember that it is the sunny side of home, and help to keep it so.
Marjorie had nothing but a kiss to offer by way of thanks, as the lovely sketch was put into her hand; but the giver seemed quite satisfied, for it was a very grateful little kiss. Then the child took up her basket and went away, not dancing and singing now, but slowly and silently; for this gift made her thoughtful as well as glad. As she climbed the wall, she looked back to nod good-by to the pretty lady; but the meadow was empty, and all she saw was the grass blowing in the wind.
Now, deary, run out and play, for birthdays come but once a year, and we must make them as merry as we can, said granny, as she settled herself for her afternoon nap, when the Saturday cleaning was all done, and the little house as neat as wax.
So Marjorie put on a white apron in honor of the occasion, and, taking Kitty in her arms, went out to enjoy herself. Three swings on the gate seemed to be a good way of beginning the festivities; but she only got two, for when the gate creaked back the second time, it stayed shut, and Marjorie hung over the pickets, arrested by the sound of music.
Its soldiers, she said, as the fife and drum drew nearer, and flags were seen waving over the barberry-bushes at the corner.
No; its a picnic, she added in a moment; for she saw hats with wreaths about them bobbing up and down, as a gaily-trimmed hay-cart full of children came rumbling down the lane.
What a nice time they are going to have! thought Marjorie, sadly contrasting that merry-making with the quiet party she was having all by herself.
Suddenly her face shone, and Kitty was waved over her head like a banner, as she flew out of the gate, crying, rapturously,
Its Billy! and I know hes come for me!
It certainly WAS Billy, proudly driving the old horse, and beaming at his little friend from the bower of flags and chestnut-boughs, where he sat in state, with a crown of daisies on his sailor-hat and a spray of blooming sweetbrier in his hand. Waving his rustic sceptre, he led off the shout of Happy birthday, Marjorie! which was set up as the wagon stopped at the gate, and the green boughs suddenly blossomed with familiar faces, all smiling on the little damsel, who stood in the lane quite overpowered with delight.
Its a sprise[10] party! cried one small lad, tumbling out behind.
We are going up the mountain to have fun! added a chorus of voices, as a dozen hands beckoned wildly.