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May Flowers

Louisa May Alcott



  Produced by Fulvia Hughes, Suzanne Shell and the OnlineDistributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (Thisfile was produced from images generously made availableby The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)

  Transcriber's Note: Italic text is denoted by _underscores_.

  "The best of all were the cosey talks we had in thetwilight."

  _Frontispiece._]

  MAY FLOWERS

  BYLOUISA M. ALCOTT

  AUTHOR OF "LITTLE WOMEN," "LITTLE MEN,""AN OLD-FASHIONED GIRL," ETC.

  Illustrated

  BOSTONLITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY

  _Copyright, 1887_,BY LOUISA M. ALCOTT.

  _Copyright, 1899_,BY JOHN S. P. ALCOTT.

  University PressJOHN WILSON AND SON, CAMBRIDGE, U.S.A.

  MAY FLOWERS

  Being Boston girls, of course they got up a club for mental improvement,and, as they were all descendants of the Pilgrim Fathers, they called itthe May Flower Club. A very good name, and the six young girls who weremembers of it made a very pretty posy when they met together, once aweek, to sew, and read well-chosen books. At the first meeting of theseason, after being separated all summer, there was a good deal ofgossip to be attended to before the question, "What shall we read?" cameup for serious discussion.

  Anna Winslow, as president, began by proposing "Happy Dodd;" but achorus of "I've read it!" made her turn to her list for another title.

  "'Prisoners of Poverty' is all about workingwomen, very true and verysad; but Mamma said it might do us good to know something of the hardtimes other girls have," said Anna, soberly; for she was a thoughtfulcreature, very anxious to do her duty in all ways.

  "I'd rather not know about sad things, since I can't help to make themany better," answered Ella Carver, softly patting the apple blossoms shewas embroidering on a bit of blue satin.

  "But we might help if we really tried, I suppose; you know how muchHappy Dodd did when she once began, and she was only a poor little girlwithout half the means of doing good which we have," said Anna, glad todiscuss the matter, for she had a little plan in her head and wanted toprepare a way for proposing it.

  "Yes, I'm always saying that I have more than my share of fun andcomfort and pretty things, and that I ought and will share them withsome one. But I don't do it; and now and then, when I hear about realpoverty, or dreadful sickness, I feel _so_ wicked it quite upsets me. IfI knew _how_ to begin, I really would. But dirty little children don'tcome in my way, nor tipsy women to be reformed, nor nice lame girls tosing and pray with, as it all happens in books," cried Marion Warren,with such a remorseful expression on her merry round face that her mateslaughed with one accord.

  "I know something that I _could_ do if I only had the courage to beginit. But Papa would shake his head unbelievingly, and Mamma worry aboutits being proper, and it would interfere with my music, and everythingnice that I especially wanted to go to would be sure to come on whateverday I set for my good work, and I should get discouraged or ashamed, andnot half do it, so I don't begin, but I know I ought." And ElizabethAlden rolled her large eyes from one friend to another, as if appealingto them to goad her to this duty by counsel and encouragement of somesort.

  "Well, I suppose it's right, but I do perfectly hate to go poking roundamong poor folks, smelling bad smells, seeing dreadful sights, hearingwoful tales, and running the risk of catching fever, and diphtheria, andhorrid things. I don't pretend to like charity, but say right out I'm asilly, selfish wretch, and want to enjoy every minute, and not worryabout other people. Isn't it shameful?"

  Maggie Bradford looked such a sweet little sinner as she boldly madethis sad confession, that no one could scold her, though Ida Standish,her bosom friend, shook her head, and Anna said, with a sigh: "I'mafraid we all feel very much as Maggie does, though we don't own it sohonestly. Last spring, when I was ill and thought I might die, I was soashamed of my idle, frivolous winter, that I felt as if I'd give all Ihad to be able to live it over and do better. Much is not expected of agirl of eighteen, I know; but oh! there were heaps of kind little thingsI _might_ have done if I hadn't thought only of myself. I resolved if Ilived I'd try at least to be less selfish, and make some one happier formy being in the world. I tell you, girls, it's rather solemn when youlie expecting to die, and your sins come up before you, even though theyare very small ones. I never shall forget it, and after my lovely summerI mean to be a better girl, and lead a better life if I can."

  Anna was so much in earnest that her words, straight out of a veryinnocent and contrite heart, touched her hearers deeply, and put theminto the right mood to embrace her proposition. No one spoke for amoment, then Maggie said quietly,--

  "I know what it is. I felt very much so when the horses ran away, andfor fifteen minutes I sat clinging to Mamma, expecting to be killed.Every unkind, undutiful word I'd ever said to her came back to me, andwas worse to bear than the fear of sudden death. It scared a great dealof naughtiness out of me, and dear Mamma and I have been more to eachother ever since."

  "Let us begin with 'The Prisoners of Poverty,' and perhaps it will showus something to do," said Lizzie. "But I must say I never felt as ifshop-girls needed much help; they generally seem so contented withthemselves, and so pert or patronizing to us, that I don't pity them abit, though it must be a hard life."

  "I think we can't do _much_ in that direction, except set an example ofgood manners when we go shopping. I wanted to propose that we eachchoose some small charity for this winter, and do it faithfully. Thatwill teach us how to do more by and by, and we can help one another withour experiences, perhaps, or amuse with our failures. What do you say?"asked Anna, surveying her five friends with a persuasive smile.

  "What _could_ we do?"

  "People will call us goody-goody."

  "I haven't the least idea how to go to work."

  "Don't believe Mamma will let me."

  "We'd better change our names from May Flowers to sisters of charity,and wear meek black bonnets and flapping cloaks."

  Anna received these replies with great composure, and waited for themeeting to come to order, well knowing that the girls would have theirfun and outcry first, and then set to work in good earnest.

  "I think it's a lovely idea, and I'll carry out my plan. But I won'ttell what it is yet; you'd all shout, and say I couldn't do it, but ifyou were trying also, that would keep me up to the mark," said Lizzie,with a decided snap of her scissors, as she trimmed the edges of a plushcase for her beloved music.

  "Suppose we all keep our attempts secret, and not let our right handknow what the left hand does? It's such fun to mystify people, and thenno one _can_ laugh at us. If we fail, we can say nothing; if we succeed,we can tell of it and get our reward. I'd like that way, and will lookround at once for some especially horrid boot-black, ungrateful oldwoman, or ugly child, and devote myself to him, her, or it with thepatience of a saint," cried Maggie, caught by the idea of doing good insecret and being found out by accident.

  The other girls agreed, after some discussion, and then Anna took thefloor again.

  "I propose that we each work in our own way till next May, then, at ourlast meeting, report what we have done, truly and honestly, and plansomething better for next year. Is it a vote?"

  It evidently was a unanimous vote, for five gold thimbles went up, andfive blooming faces smiled as the five girlish voices cried, "Aye!"

  "Very well, now let us decide what to read, and begin at once. I thinkthe 'Prisoners' a good book, and we shall doubtless get some hints fromit."

  So they began, and for an hour one pleasant voice after the other readaloud those sad, true stories of workingwomen and their hard lives,showing these gay young creatures what their pretty clothes cost thereal makers of them, and how much injustice, suffering, and wastedstr
ength went into them. It was very sober reading, but most absorbing;for the crochet needles went slower and slower, the lace-work lay idle,and a great tear shone like a drop of dew on the apple blossoms as Ellalistened to "Rose's Story." They skipped the statistics, and dipped hereand there as each took her turn; but when the two hours were over, andit was time for the club to adjourn, all the members were deeplyinterested in that pathetic book, and more in earnest than before; forthis glimpse into other lives showed them how much help was needed, andmade them anxious to lend a hand.

  "We can't do much, being 'only girls,'" said Anna; "but if each does onesmall chore somewhere it will pave the way for better work; so we willall