The Wide, Wide World

And Ellen tried in vain afterwards to make her promise she would not.

"Come, June," said Miss Jenny, "we have got enough of you and Jumper – turn him out; we are going to have the cat now. Come! – Puss, puss in the corner! go off in t'other room, will you, everybody that don't want to play. Puss, puss!"

Now the fun began in good earnest, and few minutes had passed before Ellen was laughing with all her heart, as if she never had had anything to cry for in her life. After "puss, puss in the corner," came "blind-man's-buff;" and this was played with great spirit, the two most distinguished being Nancy and Dan Dennison, though Miss Fortune played admirably well. Ellen had seen Nancy play before; but she forgot her own part of the game in sheer amazement at the way Mr. Dennison managed his long body, which seemed to go where there was no room for it, and vanish into air just when the grasp of some grasping "blind man" was ready to fasten upon him. And when he was blinded, he seemed to know by instinct where the walls were, and keeping clear of them he would swoop like a hawk from one end of the room to the other, pouncing upon the unlucky people who could by no means get out of the way fast enough. When this had lasted a while there was a general call for "the fox and the goose;" and Miss Fortune was pitched upon for the latter; she having in the other game showed herself capable of good generalship. But who for the fox? Mr. Van Brunt?

"Not I," said Mr. Van Brunt – "there ain't nothing of the fox about me; Miss Fortune would beat me all hollow."

"Who then, farmer?" said Bill Huff; "come, who is the fox? Will I do?"

"Not you, Bill; the goose 'ud be too much for you."

There was a general shout, and cries of "who then?" "who then?"

"Dan Dennison," said Mr. Van Brunt. "Now look out for a sharp fight."

Amidst a great deal of laughing and confusion the line was formed, each person taking hold of a handkerchief or band passed round the waist of the person before him, except when the women held by each other's skirts. They were ranged according to height, the tallest being next their leader the "goose." Mr. Van Brunt and the elder ladies, and two or three more, chose to be lookers-on, and took post outside the door.

Mr. Dennison began by taking off his coat, to give himself more freedom in his movements; for his business was to catch the train of the goose, one by one, as each in turn became the hindmost; while her object was to baffle him and keep her family together, meeting him with outspread arms at every rush he made to seize one of her brood; while the long train behind her, following her quick movements and swaying from side to side to get out of the reach of the furious fox, was sometimes in the shape of the letter C, and sometimes in that of the letter S, and sometimes looked like a long snake with a curling tail. Loud was the laughter, shrill the shrieks, as the fox drove them hither and thither, and seemed to be in all parts of the room at once. He was a cunning fox that, as well as a bold one. Sometimes, when they thought him quite safe, held at bay by the goose, he dived under or leaped over her outstretched arms, and almost snatched hold of little Ellen, who being the least was the last one of the party. But Ellen played very well, and just escaped him two or three times, till he declared she gave him so much trouble that when he caught her he would "kiss her the worst kind." Ellen played none the worse for that; however she was caught at last, and kissed too; there was no help for it, so she bore it as well as she could. Then she watched, and laughed till the tears ran down her cheeks to see how the fox and the goose dodged each other, what tricks were played, and how the long train pulled each other about. At length Nancy was caught; and then Jenny Hitchcock; and then Cecilia Dennison; and then Jane Huff, and so on, till at last the fox and the goose had a long struggle for Mimy Lawson, which would never have come to an end if Mimy had not gone over to the enemy.

There was a general pause. The hot and tired company were seated round the room, panting and fanning themselves with their pocket-handkerchiefs, and speaking in broken sentences; glad to rest even from laughing. Miss Fortune had thrown herself down on a seat close by Ellen, when Nancy came up and softly asked, "Is it time to beat the eggs now?" Miss Fortune nodded, and then drew her close to receive a long whisper in her ear, at the end of which Nancy ran off.

"Is there anything I can do, Aunt Fortune?" said Ellen, so gently and timidly that it ought to have won a kind answer.

"Yes," said her aunt, "you may go and put yourself to bed; it's high time long ago." And looking round as she moved off she added "Go!" – with a little nod that as much as said, "I am in earnest."

Ellen's heart throbbed; she stood doubtful. One word to Mr. Van Brunt and she need not go, that she knew. But as surely too that word would make trouble and do harm. And then she remembered, "A charge to keep I have!" She turned quick and quitted the room.

Ellen sat down on the first stair she came to, for her bosom was heaving up and down, and she was determined not to cry. The sounds of talking and laughing came to her ear from the parlour, and there at her side stood the covered-up supper; for a few minutes it was hard work to keep her resolve. The thick breath came and went very fast. Through the fanlights of the hall door, opposite to which she was sitting, the bright moonlight streamed in; and presently, as Ellen quieted, it seemed to her fancy like a gentle messenger from its Maker, bidding His child remember Him; and then came up some words in her memory that her mother's lips had fastened there long ago; "I love them that love me, and they that seek me early shall find me." She remembered her mother had told her it is Jesus who says this. Her lost pleasure was well-nigh forgotten; and yet as she sat gazing into the moonlight Ellen's eyes were gathering tears very fast.

"Well, I am seeking Him," she thought; "can it be that He loves me! Oh, I'm so glad!"

And they were glad tears that little Ellen wiped away as she went upstairs; for it was too cold to sit there long if the moon was ever so bright.

She had her hand on the latch of the door when her grandmother called out from the other room to know who was there.

"It's I, grandma."

"Ain't somebody there? Come in here – who is it?"

"It's I, grandma," said Ellen, coming to the door.

"Come in here, deary," said the old woman, in a lower tone; "what is it all? what's the matter? who's downstairs?"

"It's a bee, grandma; there's nothing the matter."

"A bee! who's been stung? what's all the noise about?"

"'Tisn't that kind of bee, grandma; don't you know? there's a parcel of people that came to pare apples, and they've been playing games in the parlour – that's all."

"Paring apples, eh? Is there company below?"

"Yes, ma'am; a whole parcel of people."

"Dear me!" said the old lady, "I oughtn't to ha' been abed! Why ha'n't Fortune told me? I'll get right up. Ellen, you go in that fur closet and bring me my paddysoy that hangs there, and then help me on with my things; I'll get right up. Dear me! what was Fortune thinking about?"

The moonlight served very well instead of candles. After twice bringing the wrong dresses Ellen at last hit upon the "paddysoy," which the old lady knew immediately by the touch. In haste, and not without some fear and trembling on Ellen's part, she was arrayed in it; her best cap put on, not over hair in the best order, Ellen feared, but the old lady would not stay to have it made better; Ellen took care of her down the stairs, and after opening the door for her went back to her room.

A little while had passed, and Ellen was just tying her night-cap strings and ready to go peacefully to sleep, when Nancy burst in.

"Ellen! hurry! you must come right downstairs."

"Downstairs! why, I am just ready to go to bed."

"No matter, you must come right away down. There's Mr. Van Brunt says he won't begin supper till you come."

"But does Aunt Fortune know?"

"Yes, I tell you! and the quicker you come the better she'll be pleased. She sent me after you in all sorts of a hurry. She said she didn't know where you was."

"Said she didn't know where I was! Why, she told me herself – ," Ellen began and stopped short.

"Of course!" said Nancy, "don't you think I know that? But he don't, and if you want to plague her you'll just tell him. Now come and be quick, will you. The supper's splendid."

Ellen lost the first view of the table, for everything had begun to be pulled to pieces before she came in. The company were all crowded round the table, eating and talking and helping themselves; and ham and bread and butter, pumpkin pies and mince pies and apple pies, cakes of various kinds, and glasses of egg-nogg and cider, were in everybody's hands. One dish in the middle of the big table had won the praise of every tongue; nobody could guess and many asked how it was made, but Miss Fortune kept a satisfied silence, pleased to see the constant stream of comers to the big dish till it was near empty. Just then Mr. Van Brunt, seeing Ellen had nothing, gathered up all that was left and gave it to her.

It was sweet and cold and rich. Ellen told her mother afterwards it was the best thing she had ever tasted except the ice-cream she once gave her in New York. She had taken, however, but one spoonful when her eye fell upon Nancy, standing back of all the company, and forgotten. Nancy had been upon her good behaviour all the evening, and it was a singular proof of this that she had not pushed in and helped herself among the first. Ellen's eye went once or twice from her plate to Nancy, and then she crossed over and offered it to her. It was eagerly taken, and, a little disappointed, Ellen stepped back again. But she soon forgot the disappointment. "She'll know now that I don't bear her any grudge," she thought.

"Ha'n't you got nothing?" said Nancy, coming up presently; "that wasn't your'n that you gave me, was it?"

Ellen nodded smilingly.

"Well, there ain't no more of it," said Nancy. "The bowl is empty."

"I know it," said Ellen.

"Why, didn't you like it?"

"Yes, very much."

"Why, you're a queer little fish," said Nancy. "What did you get Mr. Van Brunt to let me in for?"

"How did you know I did?"

"Cause he told me. Say – what did you do it for? Mr. Dennison, won't you give Ellen a piece of cake or something? Here – take this," said Nancy, pouncing upon a glass of egg-nogg which a gap in the company enabled her to reach; "I made it more than half myself. Ain't it good?"

"Yes, very," said Ellen, smacking her lips; "what's in it?"

"Oh, plenty of good things. But what made you ask Mr. Van Brunt to let me stop to-night? you didn't tell me – did you want me to stay?"