Chapter 18

May BasketsSpring was late that year, but to Jill it seemed the loveliest she hadever known, for hope was growing green and strong in her ownlittle heart, and all the world looked beautiful. With the help of thebrace she could sit up for a short time every day, and when the airwas mild enough she was warmly wrapped and allowed to look outat the open window into the garden, where the gold and purplecrocuses were coming bravely up, and the snowdrops nodded theirdelicate heads as if calling to her,"Good day, little sister, come out and play with us, for winter isover and spring is here.""I wish I could!" thought Jill, as the soft wind kissed a tinge ofcolor into her pale cheeks. "Never mind, they have been shut up ina darker place than I for months, and had no fun at all; I won't fret,but think about July and the seashore while I work."The job now in hand was May baskets, for it was the custom of thechildren to hang them on the doors of their friends the night beforeMay-day; and the girls had agreed to supply baskets if the boyswould hunt for flowers, much the harder task of the two. Jill hadmore leisure as well as taste and skill than the other girls, so sheamused herself with making a goodly store of pretty baskets of allshapes, sizes, and colors, quite confident that they would be filled,though not a flower had shown its head except a few hardydandelions, and here and there a small cluster of saxifrage.

　　The violets would not open their blue eyes till the sunshine waswarmer, the columbines refused to dance with the boisterous eastwind, the ferns kept themselves rolled up in their brown flanneljackets, and little Hepatica, with many another spring beauty, hidaway in the woods, afraid to venture out, in spite of the eagerwelcome awaiting them. But the birds had come, punctual as ever,and the bluejays were screaming in the orchard, robins wereperking up their heads and tails as they went house-hunting, purplefinches in their little red hoods were feasting on the spruce buds,and the faithful chip birds chirped gayly on the grapevine trelliswhere they had lived all winter, warming their little gray breastsagainst the southern side of the house when the sun shone, andhiding under the evergreen boughs when the snow fell.

　　"That tree is a sort of bird's hotel," said Jill, looking out at the tallspruce before her window, every spray now tipped with a softgreen. "They all go there to sleep and eat, and it has room foreveryone, It is green when other trees die, the wind can't break it,and the snow only makes it look prettier. It sings to me, and nodsas if it knew I loved it.""We might call it 'The Holly Tree Inn,' as some of the cheapeating-houses for poor people are called in the city, as my hollybush grows at its foot for a sign. You can be the landlady, and feedyour feathery customers every day, till the hard times are over,"said Mrs. Minot, glad to see the child's enjoyment of the outerworld from which she had been shut so long.

　　Jill liked the fancy, and gladly strewed crumbs on the windowledge for the chippies, who came confidingly to eat almost fromher hand. She threw out grain for the handsome jays, the jauntyrobins, and the neighbors' doves, who came with soft flight to tripabout on their pink feet, arching their shining necks as they cooedand pecked. Carrots and cabbage-leaves also flew out of thewindow for the marauding gray rabbit, last of all Jack's half-dozen,who led him a weary life of it because they would not stay in theBunny-house, but undermined the garden with their burrows, atethe neighbors' plants, and refused to be caught till all but one ranaway, to Jack's great relief. This old fellow camped out for thewinter, and seemed to get on very well among the cats and thehens, who shared their stores with him, and he might be seen at allhours of the day and night scampering about the place, or kickingup his heels by moonlight, for he was a desperate poacher.

　　Jill took great delight in her pretty pensioners, who soon learned tolove "The Holly Tree Inn," and to feel that the Bird Room held acaged comrade; for, when it was too cold or wet to open thewindows, the doves came and tapped at the pane, the chippies saton the ledge in plump little bunches as if she were their sunshine,the jays called her in their shrill voices to ring the dinner-bell, andthe robins tilted on the spruce boughs where lunch was always tobe had.

　　The first of May came on Sunday, so all the celebrating must bedone on Saturday, which happily proved fair, though too chilly formuslin gowns, paper garlands, and picnics on damp grass. Being aholiday, the boys decided to devote the morning to ball and theafternoon to the flower hunt, while the girls finished the baskets;and in the evening our particular seven were to meet at the Minotsto fill them, ready for the closing frolic of hanging ondoor-handles, ringing bells, and running away.

　　"Now I must do my Maying, for there will be no more sunshine,and I want to pick my flowers before it is dark. Come, Mammy,you go too," said Jill, as the last sunbeams shone in at the westernwindow where her hyacinths stood that no fostering ray might belost.

　　It was rather pathetic to see the once merry girl who used to be thelife of the wood-parties now carefully lifting herself from thecouch, and, leaning on her mother's strong arm, slowly take thehalf-dozen steps that made up her little expedition. But she washappy, and stood smiling out at old Bun skipping down the walk,the gold-edged clouds that drew apart so that a sunbeam tiiightgive her a good-night kiss as she gathered her long-cherisheddaisies, primroses, and hyacinths to fill the pretty basket in herhand.

　　"Who is it for, my deane?" asked her mother, standing behind heras a prop, while the thin fingers did their work so willingly thatnot~a flower was left.

　　"For My Lady, of course. Who else would I give my posies to,when I love them so well?" answered Jill, who thought no nametoo fine for their best friend.

　　"I fancied it would be for Master Jack," said her mother, wishingthe excursion to be a cheerful one.

　　"I've another for him, but she must have the prettiest. He is goingto hang it for me, and ring and run away, and she won't know whoit's from till she sees this. She will remember it, for I've beenturning and tending it ever so long, to make it bloom to-day. Isn't ita beauty?" and Jill held up her finest hyacinth, which seemed toring its pale pink bells as if glad to carry its sweet message from agrateful little heart.

　　"Indeed it is; and you are right to give your best to her. Come awaynow, you must not stand any longer. Come and rest while I fetch adish to put the flowers in till you want them"; and Mrs. Pecqturned her round with her small Maying safely done.

　　"I didn't think I'd ever be able to do even so much, and here I amwalking and sitting up, and going to drive some day. Isn't it nicethat I'm not to be a poor Lucinda after all?" and Jill drew a longsigh of relief that six months instead of twenty years wouldprobably be the end of her captivity.

　　"Yes, thank Heaven! I don't think I could have borne that"; andthe mother took Jill in her arms as if she were a baby, holding herclose for a minute, and laying her down with a tender kiss thatmade the arms cling about her neck as her little girl returned itheartily, for all sorts of new, sweet feelings seemed to be buddingin both, born of great joy and thankfulness.

　　Then Mrs. Pecq hurried away to see about tea for the hungry boys,and Jill watched the pleasant twilight deepen as she lay singing toherself one of the songs her friend taught her because it fitted herso well.

　　"A little bird I am,Shut from the fields of air,And in my cage I sit and singTo Him who placed me there:

　　Well pleased a prisoner to be,Because, my God, it pleases Thee!

　　"Naught have I else to do;I sing the whole day long;And He whom most I love to pleaseDoth listen to my song,He caught and bound my wandering wing,But still He bends to hear me sing.""Now we are ready for you, so bring on your flowers," said Mollyto the boys, as she and Merry added their store of baskets to thegay show Jill had set forth on the long table ready for the evening'swork.

　　"They wouldn't let me see one, but I guess they have had goodluck, they look so jolly," answered Jill, looking at Gus, Frank, andJack, who stood laughing, each with a large basket in his hands.

　　"Fair to middling. Just look in and see"; with which cheerfulremark Gus tipped up his basket and displayed a few bits of greenat the bottom.

　　"I'd id better. Now, don't all scream at once over these beauties";and Frank shook out some evergreen sprigs, half a dozensaxifrages, and two or three forlorn violets with hardly any stems.

　　"I don't brag, but here's the best of all the three," chuckled Jack,producing a bunch of feathery carrot-tops, with a few half-shutdandelions trying to look brave and gay.

　　"Oh, boys, is that all?""What shall we do?""We've only a few house-flowers, and all those baskets to fill,"cried the girls, in despair; for Merry's contribution had been small,and Molly had only a handful of artificial flowers "to fill up," shesaid.

　　"It isn't our fault: it is the late spring. We can't make flowers, canwe?" asked Frank, in a tone of calm resignation.

　　"Couldn't you buy some, then?" said Molly, smoothing hercrumpled morning-glories, with a sigh.

　　'Who ever heard of a fellow having any money left the last day ofthe month?" demanded Gus, severely.

　　"Or girls either. I spent all mine in ribbon and paper for mybaskets, and now they are of no use. It's a shame!" lamented Jill,while Merry began to thin out her full baskets to fill the emptyones.

　　"Hold on!" cried Frank, relenting. "Now, Jack, make their mindseasy before they begin to weep and wail.""Left the box outside. You tell while I go for it"; and Jack bolted,as if afraid the young ladies might be too demonstrative when thetale was told.

　　"Tell away," said Frank, modestly passing the story along to Gus,who made short work of it.

　　"We rampaged all over the country, and got only that small messof greens. Knew you'd be disgusted, and sat down to see what wecould do. Then Jack piped up, and said he'd show us a place wherewe could get a plenty. 'Come on,' said we, and after leading us anice tramp, he brought us out at Morse's greenhouse.

　　So we got a few on tick, as we had but four cents among us, andthere you are. Pretty clever of the little chap, wasn't it?"A chorus of delight greeted Jack as he popped his head in, waspromptly seized by his elders and walked up to the table, where thebox was opened, displaying gay posies enough to fill most of thebaskets if distributed with great economy and much green.

　　"You are the dearest boy that ever was!" began Jill, with her noseluxuriously buried in the box, though the flowers were moreremarkable for color than perfume.

　　"No, I'm not; there's a much dearer one coming upstairs now, andhe's got something that will make you howl for joy," said Jack,ignoring his own prowess as Ed came in with a bigger box, lookingas if he had done nothing but go a Maying all his days.

　　"Don't believe it!" cried Jill, hugging her own treasure jealously.

　　"It's oniy another joke. I won't look," said Molly, still struggling tomake her cambric roses bloom again.

　　"I know what it is! Oh, how sweet!" added Merry, sniffing, as Edset the box before her, saying pleasantly,"You shall see first, because you had faith."Up went the cover, and a whiff of the freshest fragrance regaledthe seven eager noses bent to inhale it, as a general murmur ofpleasure greeted the nest of great, rosy mayflowers that lay beforethem.

　　"The dear things, how lovely they are!" and Merry looked as ifgreeting her cousins, so blooming and sweet was her own face.

　　Molly pushed her dingy garlands away, ashamed of such poorattempts beside these perfect works of nature, and Jill stretchedout her hand involuntarily, as she said, forgetting her exotics,"Give me just one to smell of, it is so woodsy and delicious.""Here you are, plenty for all. Real Pilgrim Fathers, right fromPlymouth. One of our fellows lives there, and I told him to bringme a good lot; so he did, and you can do what you like with them,"explained Ed, passing round bunches and shaking the rest in amossy pile upon the table.

　　"Ed always gets ahead of us in doing the right thing at the righttime. Hope you've got some first-class baskets ready for him," saidGus, refreshing the Washingtonian nose with a pink blossom ortwo.

　　"Not much danger of his being forgotten," answered Molly; andeveryone laughed, for Ed was much beloved by all the girls, andhis door-steps always bloomed like a flower-bed on May eve.

　　"Now we must fly round and fill up. Come, boys, sort out the greenand hand us the flowers as we want them. Then we must directthem, and, by the time that is done, you can go and leave them,"said Jill, setting all to work.

　　"Ed must choose his baskets first. These are ours; but any of thoseyou can have"; and Molly pointed to a detachment of gay baskets,set apart from those already partly filled.

　　Ed chose a blue one, and Merry filled it with the rosiestmay-flowers, knowing that it was to hang on Mabel's door-handle.

　　The others did the same, and the pretty work went on, with muchfun, till all were filled, and ready for the names or notes.

　　"Let us have poetry, as we can't get wild flowers. That will berather fine," proposed Jill, who liked jingles.

　　All had had some practice at the game parties, and pencils wentbriskly for a few minutes, while silence reigned, as the poetsracked their brains for rhymes, and stared at the blooming arraybefore them for inspiration.

　　"Oh, dear! I can't find a word to rhyme to 'geranium,'" sighedMolly, pulling her braid, as if to pump the well of her fancy dry.

　　"Cranium," said Frank, who was getting on bravely with "Annette"and "violet.""That is elegant!" and Molly scribbled away in great glee, for herpoems were always funny ones.

　　"How do you spell anemoly--the wild flower, I mean?" asked Jill,who was trying to compose a very appropriate piece for her bestbasket, and found it easier to feel love and gratitude than to putthem into verse.

　　"Anemone; do spell it properly, or you'll get laughed at," answeredGus, wildly struggling to make his lines express great ardor,without being "too spoony," as he expressed it.

　　"No, I shouldn't. This person never laughs at other persons'

　　mistakes, as some persons do," replied Jill, with dignity.

　　Jack was desperately chewing his pencil, for he could not get on atall; but Ed had evidently prepared his poem, for his paper was halffull already, and Merry was smiling as she wrote a friendly line ortwo for Ralph's basket, as she feared he would be forgotten, andknew he loved kindness even more than he did beauty.

　　"Now let's read them," proposed Molly, who loved to laugh even atherself.

　　The boys politely declined, and scrambled their notes into thechosen baskets in great haste; but the girls were less bashful. Jillwas invited to begin, and gave her little piece, with the pinkhyacinth basket before her, to illustrate her poem.

　　"TO MY LADY"There are no flowers in the fields,No green leaves on the tree,No columbines, no violets,No sweet anemone.

　　So I have gathered from my potsAll that I have to fillThe basket that I hang to-night,With heaps of love from Jill.""That's perfectly sweet! Mine isn't; but I meant it to be funny," saidMolly, as if there could be any doubt about the following ditty:

　　"Dear Grif,Here is a whiffOf beautiful spring flowers;The big red roseIs for your nose,As toward the sky it towers.

　　"Oh, do noi frownUpon this crownOf green pinks and blue geraniumBut think of meWhen this you see,And put it on your cranium.""O Molly, you will never hear the last of that if Grif gets it," saidJill, as the applause subsided, for the boys pronounced it "tip-top.""Don't care, he gets the worst of it anyway, for there is a pin in thatrose, and if he goes to smell the mayflowers underneath he willfind a thorn to pay for the tack he put in my rubber boot. I know hewill play me some joke to-night, and I mean to be first if I can,"answered Molly, settling the artificial wreath round theorange-colored canoe which held her effusion.

　　"Now, Merry, read yours: you always have sweet poems"; and Jillfolded her hands to listen with pleasure to something sentimental.

　　"I can't read the poems in some of mine, because they are for you;but this little verse you can hear, if you like: I'm going to give thatbasket to Ralph. He said he should hang one for his grandmother,and I thought that was so nice of him, I'd love to surprise him withone all to himself. He's always so good to us"; and Merry looked soinnocently earnest that no one smiled at her kind thought or theunconscious paraphrase she had made of a famous stanza in herown "little verse.""To one who teaches meThe sweetness and the beautyOf doing faithfullyAnd cheerfully my duty.""He will like that, and know who sent it, for none of us have prettypink paper but you, or write such an elegant hand," said Molly,admiring the delicate white basket shaped like a lily, with theflowers inside and the note hidden among them, all daintily tied upwith the palest blush-colored ribbon.

　　"Well, that's no harm. He likes pretty things as much as I'd o, and Imade my basket like a flower because I gave him one of my callas,he admired the shape so much"; and Merry smiled as sheremembered how pleased Ralph looked as he went away carryingthe lovely thing.

　　"I think it would be a good plan to hang some baskets on the doorsof other people who don't expect or often have any. I'll do it if youcan spare some of these, we have so many. Give me only one, andlet the others go to old Mrs. Tucker, and the little Irish girl whohas been sick so long, and lame Neddy, and Daddy Munson. Itwould please and surprise them so. Will we?" asked Ed, in thatpersuasive voice of his.

　　All agreed at once, and several people were made very happy by abit of spring left at their doors by the May elves who haunted thetown that night playing all sorts of pranks. Such a twanging ofbells and rapping of knockers; such a scampering of feet in thedark; such droll collisions as boys came racing round corners, orgirls ran into one another's arms as they crept up and down stepson the sly; such laughing, whistling, flying about of flowers andfriendly feeling--it was almost a pity that May-day did not comeoftener.

　　Molly got home late, and found that Grif had been before her, afterall; for she stumbled over a market-basket at her door, and ontaking it in found a mammoth nosegay of purple and whitecabbages, her favorite vegetable. Even Miss Bat laughed at thefunny sight, and Molly resolved to get Ralph to carve her abouquet out of carrots, beets, and turnips for next time, as Grifwould never think of that.

　　Merry ran up the garden-walk alone, for Frank left her at the gate,and was fumbling for the latch when she felt something hangingthere. Opening the door carefully, she found it gay with offeringsfrom her mates; and among them was one long quiver-shapedbasket of birch bark, with something heavy under the green leavesthat lay at the top. Lifting these, a slender has-relief of a calla lilyin plaster appeared, with this couplet slipped into the blue cord bywhich it was to hang:

　　"That mercy you to others showThat Mercy Grant to me.""How lovely! and this one will never fade, but always be apleasure hanging there. Now, I really have something beautiful allmy own," said Merry to herself as she ran up to hang the prettything on the dark wainscot of her room, where the graceful curveof its pointed leaves and the depth of its white cup would be a joyto her eyes as long as they lasted.

　　"I wonder what that means," and Merry read over the lines again,while a soft color came into her cheeks and a little smile of girlishpleasure began to dimple round her lips; for she was so romantic,this touch of sentiment showed her that her friendship was morevalued than she dreamed. But she only said, "How glad I am Iremembered him, and how surprised he will be to see mayflowersin return for the lily."He was, and worked away more happily and bravely for thethought of the little friend whose eyes would daily fall on thewhite flower which always reminded him of her.