A Little Maid of Old Maine
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Alice Turner Curtis >> A Little Maid of Old Maine
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9 [Illustration: SHE ADDED WOOD TO THE FIRE]
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A LITTLE MAID OF OLD MAINE
BY
ALICE TURNER CURTIS
AUTHOR OF
A LITTLE MAID OF PROVINCE TOWN
A LITTLE MAID OF MASSACHUSETTS COLONY
A LITTLE MAID OF NARRAGANSETT BAY
A LITTLE MAID OF BUNKER HILL
A LITTLE MAID OF TICONDEROGA
A LITTLE MAID OF OLD CONNECTICUT
A LITTLE MAID OF OLD PHILADELPHIA
A LITTLE MAID OF OLD NEW YORK
A LITTLE MAID OF VIRGINIA
ILLUSTRATED BY ELIZABETH PILSBRY
THE PENN PUBLISHING COMPANY
PHILADELPHIA 1928
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COPYRIGHT
1920 BY
THE PENN
PUBLISHING
COMPANY
A Little Maid of Old Maine
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INTRODUCTION
"A LITTLE MAID OF OLD MAINE" is a true story of the brave effort of two
girls to bring help to a little settlement on the Maine coast at the
time of the War of the Revolution. Parson Lyon, the father of Melvina,
was a friend and correspondent of Washington, and the capture of the
English gunboat by the Machias men is often referred to in history as
"The Lexington of the Seas," being the first naval battle after the
Lexington encounter.
The story is based on facts, and its readers cannot fail to be
interested and touched by the courage and patriotism of Rebecca and Anna
Weston as they journeyed through the forest after the powder that was to
make possible the conquest of America's foe.
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CONTENTS
I. A LIBERTY POLE 9
II. REBECCA'S SECRET 19
III. MELVINA MAKES DISCOVERIES 33
IV. AT MR. LYON'S 45
V. A BIRTHDAY 57
VI. LUCIA HAS A PLAN 68
VII. "A TRAITOR'S DEED" 79
VIII. "WHITE WITCHES" 90
IX. REBECCA'S VISIT 102
X. AN AFTERNOON WALK 112
XI. AN EXCHANGE OF VISITS 121
XII. WILD HONEY 133
XIII. DOWN THE RIVER 143
XIV. AN UNINVITED GUEST 152
XV. REBBY AND LUCIA 165
XVI. REBBY DECIDES 178
XVII. A PERILOUS JOURNEY 189
XVIII. TRIUMPH 205
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ILLUSTRATIONS
SHE ADDED WOOD TO THE FIRE Frontispiece
PAGE
"WE'LL WADE OUT TO FLAT ROCK" 34
"BUT WHICH ONE IS TO BE MINE?" 77
HOW LONG THE AFTERNOON SEEMED! 127
A MAN CAME AROUND THE CORNER OF THE HOUSE 175
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A LITTLE MAID OF OLD MAINE
CHAPTER I
A LIBERTY POLE
Anna and Rebecca Weston, carrying a big basket between them, ran along
the path that led from their home to the Machias River. It was a
pleasant May morning in 1775, and the air was filled with the fragrance
of the freshly cut pine logs that had been poled down the river in big
rafts to be cut into planks and boards at the big sawmills. The river,
unusually full with the spring rains, dashed against its banks as if
inviting the little girls to play a game with it. Usually Anna and
Rebecca were quite ready to linger at the small coves which crept in so
near to the footpath, and sail boats made of pieces of birch-bark, with
alder twigs for masts and broad oak leaves for sails. They named these
boats _Polly_ and _Unity_, after the two fine sloops which carried
lumber from Machias to Boston and returned with cargoes of provisions
for the little settlement.
But this morning the girls hurried along without a thought for such
pleasant games. They were both anxious to get to the lumber yard as soon
as possible, not only to fill their basket with chips, as their mother
had bidden them, but to hear if there were not some news of the _Polly_,
the return of which was anxiously awaited; for provisions were getting
scarce in this remote village, and not until the _Polly_ should come
sailing into harbor could there be any sugar cakes, or even bread made
of wheat flour.
As they hurried along they heard the cheerful whistle of Mr. Worden
Foster, the blacksmith, who was just then taking a moment of well-earned
leisure in the door of his shop, and stood looking out across the quiet
waters of the river and harbor. As the girls came near he nodded
pleasantly, but did not stop whistling. People in Machias declared that
the blacksmith woke up in the morning whistling, and never stopped
except to eat. And, indeed, his little daughter Luretta said that when
her father wanted a second helping of anything at the table he would
whistle and point toward it with his knife; so it might be said that
Mr. Foster whistled even at his meals.
"There's Father! There's Father!" Anna called out as they passed a big
pile of pine logs and came to where stacks of smooth boards just from
the sawmill shut the river from sight.
"Well, Danna, do you and Rebby want your basket filled with golden
oranges from sunny Italy and dates from Egypt? Or shall it be with
Brazilian nuts and ripe pineapples from South America?"
"Oh, Father! Say some more!" exclaimed Anna, laughing with delight; for
she never tired of hearing her father tell of the wonderful fruits of
far-off lands that he had seen in his sailor days, before he came to
live in the little settlement of Machias, in the Province of Maine, and
manage the big sawmill.
"Father, tell us, is the _Polly_ coming up the bay?" Rebecca asked
eagerly. She had a particular reason for wanting the sloop to reach
harbor as soon as possible, for her birthday was close at hand, and her
father had told her that the _Polly_ was bringing her a fine gift; but
what it was Rebecca could not imagine. She had guessed everything from a
gold ring to a prayer-book; but at every guess her father had only
smilingly shook his head.
"No sign of the _Polly_ yet, Rebby," Mr. Weston replied.
Rebecca sighed as her father called her "Rebby," and a little frown
showed itself on her forehead. She was nearly fourteen, and she had
decided that neither "Rebecca" nor "Rebby" were names that suited her.
Her middle name was "Flora," and only that morning Anna had promised not
to call her by any other name save Flora in future.
Mr. Weston smiled down at Rebecca's serious face.
"So 'tis not spices from far Arabia, or strings of pink coral, this
morning," he continued, taking the basket, "but pine chips. Well, come
over here and we will soon fill the basket," and he led the way to where
two men were at work with sharp adzes smoothing down a big stick of
timber.
In a few minutes the basket was filled, and the little girls were on
their way home.
"Would it not be a fine thing, Rebby, if we could really fill our basket
with pineapples and sweet-smelling spices?" said Anna, her brown eyes
looking off into space, as if she fancied she could see the wonderful
things of which her father spoke; "and do you not wish that we were both
boys, and could go sailing off to see far lands?"
"Anna! Only this morning you promised to call me 'Flora,' and now it is
'Rebby,' 'Rebby.' And as for 'far lands'--of course I don't want to see
them. Have you not heard Father say that there were no more beautiful
places in all the world than the shores of this Province?" responded
Rebecca reprovingly. She sometimes thought that it would have been far
better if Anna had really been a boy instead of a girl; for the younger
girl delighted to be called "Dan," and had persuaded her mother to keep
her brown curls cut short "like a boy's"; beside this, Anna cared little
for dolls, and was completely happy when her father would take her with
him for a day's deep-sea fishing, an excursion which Rebecca could never
be persuaded to attempt. Anna was also often her father's companion on
long tramps in the woods, where he went to mark trees to be cut for
timber. She wore moccasins on these trips, made by the friendly Indians
who often visited the little settlement, and her mother had made her a
short skirt of tanned deerskin, such as little Indian girls sometimes
wear, and with her blue blouse of homespun flannel, and round cap with a
partridge wing on one side, Anna looked like a real little daughter of
the woods as she trotted sturdily along beside her tall father.
As the sisters passed the blacksmith shop they could hear the ringing
stroke on the anvil, for Mr. Foster had returned to his work of
hammering out forks for pitching hay and grain; these same forks which
were fated to be used before many months passed as weapons against the
enemies of American liberty.
"To-morrow I am to go with Father to the woods," announced Anna as they
came in sight of the comfortable log cabin which stood high above the
river, and where they could see their mother standing in the doorway
looking for their return. The girls waved and called to their mother as
they hurried up the path.
"We have fine chips, Mother," called Rebecca, while Anna in a sing-song
tone called out: "Pineapples and sweet-smelling spices! Strings of pink
coral and shells from far lands."
Rebecca sighed to herself as she heard Anna's laughing recital of their
father's words. She resolved to ask her mother to forbid Anna talking
in future in such a silly way.
"You are good children to go and return so promptly," said Mrs. Weston,
"but you are none too soon, for 'twill take a good blow with the bellows
to liven up the coals, and I have a fine venison steak to broil for
dinner," and as she spoke Mrs. Weston took the basket and hurried into
the house, followed by the girls.
"Mother, what is a 'liberty pole'?" questioned Anna, kneeling on the
hearth to help her mother start the fire with the pine chips.
"What dost thou mean, child? Surely the men are not talking of such
matters as liberty poles?" responded her mother anxiously.
Anna nodded her head. "Yes, Mother. There is to be a 'liberty pole' set
up so it can be well seen from the harbor, for so I heard Mr. O'Brien
say; and Father is to go to the woods to-morrow to find it. It is to be
the straightest and handsomest sapling pine to be found in a day's
journey; that much I know," declared Anna eagerly; "but tell me why is
it to be called a 'liberty pole'? And why is it to be set up so it can
be well seen from the harbor?"
"Thou knowest, Anna, that King George of England is no longer the true
friend of American liberty," said Mrs. Weston, "and the liberty pole is
set up to show all Tories on land or sea that we mean to defend our
homes. And if the men are talking of putting up the tree of liberty in
Machias I fear that trouble is near at hand. But be that as it may, our
talking of such matters will not make ready thy father's dinner. Blaze
up the fire with these chips, Anna; and thou, Rebby, spread the table."
Both the girls hastened to obey; but Anna's thoughts were pleasantly
occupied with the morrow's excursion when she would set forth with her
father to discover the "handsome sapling pine tree," which was to be
erected as the emblem of the loyalty of the Machias settlement to
Freedom's call. Anna knew they would follow one of the Indian trails
through the forest, where she would see many a wild bird, and that the
day would be filled with delight.
But Rebecca's thoughts were not so pleasant. Here it was the fifth of
May, and no sign of the _Polly_, and on the tenth she would be fourteen;
and not a birthday gift could she hope for unless the sloop arrived.
Beside this, the talk of a liberty pole in Machias made her anxious and
unhappy. Only yesterday she had spent the afternoon with her most
particular friend, Lucia Horton, whose father was captain of the
_Polly_; and Lucia had told Rebecca something of such importance, after
vowing her to secrecy, that this talk of a liberty pole really
frightened her. And the thought that her own father was to select it
brought the danger very near. She wished that Lucia had kept the secret
to herself, and became worried and unhappy.
Rebecca was thinking of these things, and not of spreading the table,
when she went to the cupboard to bring out the pewter plates, and she
quite forgot her errand until her mother called:
"Rebby! Rebby! What are you about in the cupboard?" Then, bringing only
one plate instead of four, she came slowly back to the kitchen.
"What ails the child?" questioned Mrs. Weston sharply. "I declare, I
believe both of my children are losing their wits. Here is Anna making
rhymes and sing-songing her words in strange fashion; and thou, Rebecca,
a girl of nearly fourteen, careless of thy work, and standing before me
on one foot like a heron, staring at naught," and Mrs. Weston hurried to
the pantry for the forgotten dishes.
Anna smiled at her mother's sharp words, for she did not mind being
called a silly girl for rhyming words. "'Tis no harm," thought Anna,
"and my father says 'tis as natural as for the birds to sing;" so she
added more chips to the fire, and thought no more of it.
But Rebecca, who was used to being praised for her good sense and who
was seldom found fault with, had looked at her mother in surprise, and
the pewter plate fell from her hands and went clattering to the floor.
At that moment the door swung open and Mr. Weston entered the kitchen.
"Father! Father!" exclaimed Rebecca, running toward him, "you won't put
up a liberty pole, will you? You won't! Promise you won't, Father!" and
she clasped his arm with both hands.
CHAPTER II
REBECCA'S SECRET
Mr. Weston looked down smilingly at his little daughter. He was
evidently amused at her excitement.
"Is this the little girl who was born in loyal Boston?" he questioned;
for Rebecca was six years of age and Anna three when their parents came
to this far-off place to make their home. Eastern Maine was then a
wilderness, and this little village was not connected with the outside
world except by the Indian trails or by the sailing craft which plied up
and down the coast. But its citizens were soon to write a page of
heroism and valor in their country's history.
"Of course Machias is to have a liberty pole," continued Mr. Weston. "It
has been so decided by a vote in a town meeting; and Dan and I will
start off in good season to-morrow morning to look for the finest pine
sapling in the forest. It will be a great day for the village when 'tis
set up, with its waving green plume to show that we are pledged to
resist England's injustice to her long-suffering colonies."
It was the custom to leave a tuft of verdure at the top of the liberty
tree as an emblem, the best they had at command, of the flag they meant
to fight for.
Before her father had finished speaking Rebecca had relinquished her
grasp on his arm and ran toward the cupboard, and neither her father nor
mother gave much thought to her anxious question. The venison was just
ready to serve, and Mrs. Weston hurried from the fireplace to the table,
on which Rebecca had now placed the dishes, while Mr. Weston and Anna
talked happily together over the proposed excursion on the following
day.
"I am afraid that we may have to postpone our journey," said Mr. Weston,
"for I noticed the gulls were coming in flocks close to the shores, and
you know:
"'When sea-birds fly to land
A storm is at hand.'"
"But look at Malty," responded Anna quickly, pointing to the fat Maltese
cat who was industriously washing her face:
"'If the cat washes her face over the ear
'Tis a sign the weather'll be fine and clear,'"
quoted the little girl; "and you told me 'twas a sure sign, Father; and
'tis what Matty is doing this minute."
"To be sure," laughed Mr. Weston, "both are sure signs, and so we will
hope for fair weather."
Rebecca was very silent at dinner, and as the sisters began to clear
away the dishes Anna watched her with troubled eyes.
"Perhaps it's because I called her 'Rebby,'" thought the little girl
regretfully. "I'll tell her I am sorry," and when their mother left the
kitchen Anna whispered:
"Flora, I forgot when I called you 'Rebby.' But I will now surely
remember. You are not vexed at me, are you?" and Anna leaned her head
against her sister's arm and looked up at her pleadingly.
Rebecca sniffed a little, as if trying to keep back the tears. She
wished she could talk over her worries with Anna; but of course that
would never do.
"I believe I'd rather be called 'Rebby,'" she managed to say, to the
surprise of her younger sister. "Do you suppose they really mean to put
up a liberty pole?"
"Of course," responded Anna. "I heard the minister say that it must be
done."
Rebby sighed dolefully. She was old enough to understand the talk she
heard constantly of His Majesty's ships of war capturing the American
fishing sloops, and of the many troubles caused to peaceable Americans
all along the coast; and she, like all the American children, knew that
their rights must be defended; but Lucia Horton's talk had frightened
and confused Rebecca's thoughts. To set up a liberty pole now seemed to
her a most dangerous thing to do, and something that would bring only
trouble.
She wished with all her heart that she could tell her father all that
Lucia had told her. But that she could not do because of her promise.
Rebecca knew that a promise was a sacred thing, not to be broken.
"Rebby, will you not go to the bluff with me? 'Twill be pleasant there
this afternoon, and we could see the _Polly_ if she chances to come into
harbor to-day," said Anna.
"You had best ask Luretta Foster, Danna," she answered quickly. "I am
sure Mother will want my help with her quilting this afternoon."
Rebby so often played at being "grown up" that this reply did not
surprise Anna, and she ran off to find her mother and ask permission to
go to the shore with Luretta Foster, a girl of about her own age. Mrs.
Weston gave her consent, and in a few moments the little girl was
running along the river path toward the blacksmith shop where a short
path led to Luretta's home.
Anna often thought that there could not be another little girl in all
the world as pretty as Luretta. Luretta was not as tall or as strongly
made as Anna; her eyes were as blue as the smooth waters of the harbor
on a summer's day; her hair was as yellow as the floss on an ear of
corn, and her skin was not tanned brown like Anna's, but was fair and
delicate. Beside her Anna looked more like a boy than ever. But Luretta
admired Anna's brown eyes and short curly hair, and was quite sure that
there was no other little girl who could do or say such clever things as
Anna Weston. So the two little girls were always well pleased with each
other's company, and to-day Luretta was quite ready to go down to the
shore and watch for the _Polly_. Mrs. Foster tied on the big sunbonnet
which Luretta always wore out-of-doors, and the two friends started off.
"Will it not be fine if the _Polly_ reaches harbor to-day?" said Anna.
"My father says she will bring sugar and molasses and spices, and it may
be the _Unity_ will come sailing in beside her loaded with things from
far lands. Do you not wish our fathers were captains of fine sloops,
Luretta, so that perhaps we could go sailing off to Boston?"
But Luretta shook her head. "I'd much rather journey by land," she
answered; "but 'tis said the _Polly_ is to bring a fine silk gown for
Mistress Lyon; 'tis a present from her sister in Boston, and two dolls
for Melvina Lyon. Why is it that ministers' daughters have so many
gifts?" and Luretta sighed. Her only doll was made of wood, and, though
it was very dear to her, Luretta longed for a doll with a china head and
hands, such as the fortunate little daughter of the minister already
possessed.
"I care not for Melvina Lyon, if she be a minister's daughter," Anna
responded bravely. "She can do nothing but sew and knit and make fine
cakes, and read from grown-up books. She is never allowed to go
fishing, or wade in the cove on warm days, or go off in the woods as I
do. I doubt if Melvina Lyon could tell the difference 'twixt a partridge
and heron, or if she could tell a spruce tree from a fir. And as for
presents, hers are of no account. They are but dolls, and silver
thimbles and silk aprons. Why! did not my father bring me home a fine
beaver skin for a hood, and a pair of duck's wings, and a pair of
moccasins the very last time he went north!" And Anna, out of breath,
looked at her friend triumphantly.
"But Melvina's things are all bought in stores in big towns, and your
presents are all from the woods, just as if you were a little Indian
girl," objected Luretta, who greatly admired the ruffled gowns of
Melvina's dolls, such as no other little girl in the settlement
possessed.
Anna made no response to this; but she was surprised that Luretta should
not think as she did about the value of her gifts, and rather vexed that
Melvina Lyon should be praised by her own particular friend.
The girls had passed the sawmill and lumber yard, and now turned from
the well-traveled path to climb a hill where they could catch the first
glimpse of any sail entering the harbor. Farther along this bluff stood
the church, not yet quite finished, and beyond it the house of the
minister, the Reverend James Lyon, whose little daughter, Melvina, was
said to be the best behaved and the smartest girl in the settlement.
Although only ten years old Melvina had already "pieced" four patchwork
quilts and quilted them; and her neat stitches were the admiration of
all the women of the town. But most of the little girls were a little in
awe of Melvina, who never cared to play games, and always brought her
knitting or sewing when she came for an afternoon visit.
Anna and Luretta sat down on the short grass, and for a few moments
talked of the _Polly_, and looked in vain for the glimmer of a sail.
"Look, Danna! Here comes Melvina now," whispered Luretta, whose quick
ears had caught the sound of steps.
Anna looked quickly around. "She's all dressed up," she responded. "See,
her skirts set out all around her like a wheel."
Melvina walked with great care, avoiding the rough places, and so intent
on her steps that, if Anna had not called her name, she would have
passed without seeing them. She was thin and dark, and looked more like
a little old lady than a ten-year-old girl.
"How do you do?" she said, bowing as ceremoniously as if Luretta and
Anna were grown up people of importance.
"Come and sit down, Melly, and watch for the _Polly_," said Anna.
"And tell us about the fine dolls that are on board for you," added
Luretta quickly.
A little smile crept over Melvina's face and she took a step toward
them, but stopped suddenly.
"I fear 'twould not be wise for me to stop," she said a little
fearfully; but before she could say anything more Anna and Luretta had
jumped up and ran toward her.
"Look!" exclaimed Anna, pointing to a flock of white gulls that had just
settled on the smooth water near the shore.
"Look, Melly, at the fine partridges!"
Melvina's dark eyes looked in the direction Anna pointed. "Thank you,
Anna. How white they are, and what a queer noise they make," she
responded seriously.
Anna's eyes danced with delight as she heard Luretta's half-repressed
giggle at Melvina's reply. She resolved that Luretta should realize of
how little importance Melvina Lyon, with all her dolls, and her starched
skirts like wheels, really was.
"And are those not big alder trees, Melly?" she continued, pointing to a
group of fine pine trees near by.
Again Melvina's eyes followed the direction of Anna's pointing finger,
and again the minister's little daughter replied politely that the trees
were indeed very fine alders.
Luretta was now laughing without any effort to conceal her amusement.
That any little girl in Maine should not know a partridge from a gull,
or an alder bush from a pine tree, seemed too funny to even make it
necessary to try to be polite; and Luretta was now ready to join in the
game of finding out how little Melvina Lyon, "the smartest and
best-behaved child in the settlement," really knew.
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