Eight Cousins by Louisa M. Alcott
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16 *END THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.04.29.93*END*
Prepared by David Reed haradda@aol.com or davidr@inconnect.com
Eight Cousins
by Louisa M. Alcott
Preface
The Author is quite aware of the defects of this little story, many
of which were unavoidable, as it first appeared serially. But, as
Uncle Alec's experiment was intended to amuse the young folks,
rather than suggest educational improvements for the
consideration of the elders, she trusts that these shortcomings will
be overlooked by the friends of the Eight Cousins, and she will try
to make amends in a second volume, which shall attempt to show
The Rose in Bloom.
L.M.A.
Chapter 1 - Two Girls
Rose sat all alone in the big best parlor, with her little
handkerchief laid ready to catch the first tear, for she was thinking
of her troubles, and a shower was expected. She had retired to this
room as a good place in which to be miserable; for it was dark and
still, full of ancient furniture, sombre curtains, and hung all around
with portraits of solemn old gentlemen in wigs, severe-nosed
ladies in top-heavy caps, and staring children in little bob-tailed
coats or short-waisted frocks. It was an excellent place for woe;
and the fitful spring rain that pattered on the window-pane seemed
to sob, "Cry away: I'm with you."
Rose really did have some cause to be sad; for she had no mother,
and had lately lost her father also, which left her no home but this
with her great-aunts. She had been with them only a week, and,
though the dear old ladies had tried their best to make her happy,
they had not succeeded very well, for she was unlike any child they
had ever seen, and they felt very much as if they had the care of a
low-spirited butterfly.
They had given her the freedom of the house, and for a day or two
she had amused herself roaming all over it, for it was a capital old
mansion, and was full of all manner of odd nooks, charming
rooms, and mysterious passages. Windows broke out in
unexpected places, little balconies overhung the garden most
romantically, and there was a long upper hall full of curiosities
from all parts of the world; for the Campbells had been
sea-captains for generations.
Aunt Plenty had even allowed Rose to rummage in her great china
closet a spicy retreat, rich in all the "goodies" that children love;
but Rose seemed to care little for these toothsome temptations;
and when that hope failed, Aunt Plenty gave up in despair.
Gentle Aunt Peace had tried all sorts of pretty needle-work, and
planned a doll's wardrobe that would have won the heart of even
an older child. But Rose took little interest in pink satin hats and
tiny hose, though she sewed dutifully till her aunt caught her
wiping tears away with the train of a wedding-dress, and that
discovery put an end to the sewing society.
Then both old ladies put their heads together and picked out the
model child of the neighbourhood to come and play with their
niece. But Ariadne Blish was the worst failure of all, for Rose
could not bear the sight of her, and said she was so like a wax doll
she longed to give her a pinch and see if she would squeak. So
prim little Ariadne was sent home, and the exhausted aunties left
Rose to her own devices for a day or two.
Bad weather and a cold kept her in-doors, and she spent most of
her time in the library where her father's books were stored. Here
she read a great deal, cried a little, and dreamed many of the
innocent bright dreams in which imaginative children find such
comfort and delight. This suited her better than anything else, but
it was not good for her, and she grew pale, heavy-eyed and listless,
though Aunt Plenty gave her iron enough to make a cooking-stove,
and Aunt Peace petted her like a poodle.
Seeing this, the poor aunties racked their brains for a new
amusement and determined to venture a bold stroke, though not
very hopeful of its success. They said nothing to Rose about their
plan for this Saturday afternoon, but let her alone till the time
came for the grand surprise, little dreaming that the odd child
would find pleasure for herself in a most unexpected quarter.
Before she had time to squeeze out a single tear a sound broke the
stillness, making her prick up her ears. It was only the soft twitter
of a bird, but it seemed to be a peculiarly gifted bird, for while she
listened the soft twitter changed to a lively whistle, then a trill, a
coo, a chirp, and ended in a musical mixture of all the notes, as if
the bird burst out laughing. Rose laughed also, and, forgetting her
woes, jumped up, saying eagerly
"It is a mocking-bird. Where is it?"
Running down the long hall, she peeped out at both doors, but saw
nothing feathered except a draggle-tailed chicken under a burdock
leaf. She listened again, and the sound seemed to be in the house.
Away she went, much excited by the chase, and following the
changeful song, it led her to the china-closet door.
"In there? How funny!" she said. But when she entered, not a bird
appeared except the everlastingly kissing swallows on the Canton
china that lined the shelves. All of a sudden Rose's face
brightened, and, softly opening the slide, she peered into the
kitchen. But the music had stopped, and all she saw was a girl in a
blue apron scrubbing the hearth. Rose stared about her for a
minute, and then asked abruptly
"Did you hear that mocking-bird?"
"I should call it a phebe-bird," answered the girl, looking up with a
twinkle in her black eyes.
"Where did it go?"
"It is here still."
"Where?"
"In my throat. Do you want to hear it?"
"Oh, yes! I'll come in." And Rose crept through the slide to the
wide shelf on the other side, being too hurried and puzzled to go
round by the door.
The girl wiped her hands, crossed her feet on the little island of
carpet where she was stranded in a sea of soap-suds, and then, sure
enough, out of her slender throat came the swallow's twitter, the
robin's whistle, the blue-jay's call, the thrush's song, the
wood-dove's coo, and many another familiar note, all ending as
before with the musical ecstacy of a bobolink singing and
swinging among the meadow grass on a bright June day.
Rose was so astonished that she nearly fell off her perch, and when
the little concert was over clapped her hands delightedly.
"Oh, it was lovely! Who taught you?"
"The birds," answered the girl, with a smile, as she fell to work
again.
"It is very wonderful! I can sing, but nothing half so fine as that.
What is your name, please?"
"Phebe Moore."
"I've heard of phebe-birds; but I don't believe the real ones could
do that," laughed Rose, adding, as she watched with interest the
scattering of dabs of soft soap over the bricks, "May I stay and see
you work? It is very lonely in the parlor."
"Yes, indeed, if you want to," answered Phebe, wringing out her
cloth in a capable sort of way that impressed Rose very much.
"It must be fun to swash the water round and dig out the soap. I'd
love to do it, only aunt wouldn't like it, I suppose," said Rose, quite
taken with the new employment.
"You'd soon get tired, so you'd better keep tidy and look on."
"I suppose you help your mother a good deal?"
"I haven't got any folks."
"Why, where do you live, then?"
"I'm going to live here, I hope. Debby wants some one to help
round, and I've come to try for a week."
"I hope you will stay, for it is very dull," said Rose, who had taken
a sudden fancy to this girl, who sung like a bird and worked like a
woman.
"Hope I shall; for I'm fifteen now, and old enough to earn my own
living. You have come to stay a spell, haven't you?" asked Phebe,
looking up at her guest and wondering how life could be dull to a
girl who wore a silk frock, a daintily frilled apron, a pretty locket,
and had her hair tied up with a velvet snood.
"Yes, I shall stay till my uncle comes. He is my guardian now, and
I don't know what he will do with me. Have you a guardian?"
"My sakes, no! I was left on the poor-house steps a little mite of a
baby, and Miss Rogers took a liking to me, so I've been there ever
since. But she is dead now, and I take care of myself."
"How interesting! It is like Arabella Montgomery in the 'Gypsy's
Child.' Did you ever read that sweet story?" asked Rose, who was
fond of tales of found-lings, and had read many.
"I don't have any books to read, and all the spare time I get I run
off into the woods; that rests me better than stories," answered
Phebe, as she finished one job and began on another.
Rose watched her as she got out a great pan of beans to look over,
and wondered how it would seem to have life all work and no play.
Presently Phebe seemed to think it was her turn to ask questions,
and said, wistfully
"You've had lots of schooling, I suppose?"
"Oh, dear me, yes! I've been at boarding school nearly a year, and
I'm almost dead with lessons. The more I got, the more Miss
Power gave me, and I was so miserable that I 'most cried my eyes
out. Papa never gave me hard things to do, and he always taught
me so pleasantly I loved to study. Oh, we were so happy and so
fond of one another! But now he is gone, and I am left all alone."
The tear that would not come when Rose sat waiting for it came
now of its own accord two of them in fact and rolled down her
cheeks, telling the tale of love and sorrow better than any words
could do it.
For a minute there was no sound in the kitchen but the little
daughter's sobbing and the sympathetic patter of the rain. Phebe
stopped rattling her beans from one pan to another, and her eyes
were full of pity as they rested on the curly head bent down on
Rose's knee, for she saw that the heart under the pretty locket
ached with its loss, and the dainty apron was used to dry sadder
tears than any she had ever shed.
Somehow, she felt more contented with her brown calico gown
and blue-checked pinafore; envy changed to compassion; and if
she had dared she would have gone and hugged her afflicted guest.
Fearing that might not be considered proper, she said, in her
cheery voice
"I'm sure you ain't all alone with such a lot of folks belonging to
you, and all so rich and clever. You'll be petted to pieces, Debby
says, because you are the only girl in the family."
Phebe's last words made Rose smile in spite of her tears, and she
looked out from behind her apron with an April face, saying in a
tone of comic distress
"That's one of my troubles! I've got six aunts, and they all want me,
and I don't know any of them very well. Papa named this place the
Aunt-hill, and now I see why."
Phebe laughed with her as she said encouragingly,
"Everyone calls it so, and it's a real good name, for all the Mrs.
Campbells live handy by, and keep coming up to see the old
ladies."
"I could stand the aunts, but there are dozens of cousins, dreadful
boys all of them, and I detest boys! Some of them came to see me
last Wednesday, but I was lying down, and when auntie came to
call me I went under the quilt and pretended to be asleep. I shall
have to see them some time, but I do dread it so." And Rose gave a
shudder, for, having lived alone with her invalid father, she knew
nothing of boys, and considered them a species of wild animal.
"Oh! I guess you'll like 'em. I've seen 'em flying round when they
come over from the Point, sometimes in their boats and sometimes
on horseback. If you like boats and horses, you'll enjoy yourself
first-rate."
"But I don't! I'm afraid of horses, and boats make me ill, and I hate
boys!" And poor Rose wrung her hands at the awful prospect
before her. One of these horrors alone she could have borne, but
all together were too much for her, and she began to think of a
speedy return to the detested school.
Phebe laughed at her woe till the beans danced in the pan, but tried
to comfort her by suggesting a means of relief.
"Perhaps your uncle will take you away where there ain't any boys.
Debby says he is a real kind man, and always bring heaps of nice
things when he comes."
"Yes, but you see that is another trouble, for I don't know Uncle
Alec at all. He hardly ever came to see us, though he sent me
pretty things very often. Now I belong to him, and shall have to
mind him, till I am eighteen. I may not like him a bit, and I fret
about it all the time."
"Well, I wouldn't borrow trouble, but have a real good time. I'm
sure I should think I was in clover if I had folks and money, and
nothing to do but enjoy myself," began Phebe, but got no further,
for a sudden rush and tumble outside made them both jump.
"It's thunder," said Phebe.
"It's a circus!" cried Rose, who from her elevated perch had caught
glimpses of a gay cart of some sort and several ponies with flying
manes and tails.
The sound died away, and the girls were about to continue their
confidences when old Debby appeared, looking rather cross and
sleepy after her nap.
"You are wanted in the parlor, Miss Rose."
"Has anybody come?"
"Little girls shouldn't ask questions, but do as they are bid," was
all Debby would answer.
"I do hope it isn't Aunt Myra; she always scares me out of my wits
asking how my cough is, and groaning over me as if I was going to
die," said Rose, preparing to retire the way she came, for the slide,
being cut for the admission of bouncing Christmas turkeys and
puddings, was plenty large enough for a slender girl.
"Guess you'll wish it was Aunt Myra when you see who has come.
Don't never let me catch you coming into my kitchen that way
again, or I'll shut you up in the big b'iler," growled Debby, who
thought it her duty to snub children on all occasions.
Chapter 2 - The Clan
Rose scrambled into the china-closet as rapidly as possible, and
there refreshed herself by making faces at Debby, while she settled
her plumage and screwed up her courage. Then she crept softly
down the hall and peeped into the parlor. No one appeared, and all
was so still she felt sure the company was upstairs. So she skipped
boldly through the half-open folding-doors, to behold on the other
side a sight that nearly took her breath away.
Seven boys stood in a row all ages, all sizes, all yellow-haired and
blue-eyed, all in full Scotch costume, and all smiling, nodding, and
saying as with one voice, "How are you, cousin?"
Rose gave a little gasp, and looked wildly about her as if ready to
fly, for fear magnified the seven and the room seemed full of boys.
Before she could run, however, the tallest lad stepped out of the
line, saying pleasantly
"Don't be frightened. This is the Clan come to welcome you; and
I'm the chief, Archie, at your service."
He held out his hand as he spoke, and Rose timidly put her own
into a brown paw, which closed over the white morsel and held it
as the chief continued his introductions.
"We came in full rig, for we always turn out in style on grand
occasions. Hope you like it. Now I'll tell you who these chaps are,
and then we shall be all right. This big one is Prince Charlie, Aunt
Clara's boy. She has but one, so he is an extra good one. This old
fellow is Mac, the bookworm, called Worm for short. This sweet
creature is Steve the Dandy. Look at his gloves and top-knot, if you
please. They are Aunt Jane's lads, and a precious pair you'd better
believe. These are the Brats, my brothers, Geordie and Will, and
Jamie the Baby. Now, my men, step out and show your manners."
At this command, to Rose's great dismay, six more hands were
offered, and it was evident that she was expected to shake them
all. It was a trying moment to the bashful child; but, remembering
that they were her kinsmen come to welcome her, she tried her
best to return the greeting cordially.
This impressive ceremony being over, the Clan broke ranks, and
both rooms instantly appeared to be pervaded with boys. Rose
hastily retired to the shelter of a big chair and sat there watching
the invaders and wondering when her aunt would come and rescue
her.
As if bound to do their duty manfully, yet rather oppressed by it,
each lad paused beside her chair in his wanderings, made a brief
remark, received a still briefer answer, and then sheered off with a
relieved expression.
Archie came first, and, leaning over the chair-back, observed in a
paternal tone
"I'm glad you've come, cousin, and I hope you'll find the Aunt-hill
pretty jolly."
"I think I shall."
Mac shook his hair out of his eyes, stumbled over a stool, and
asked abruptly
"Did you bring any books with you?"
"Four boxes full. They are in the library."
Mac vanished from the room, and Steve, striking an attitude which
displayed his costume effectively, said with an affable smile
"We were sorry not to see you last Wednesday. I hope your cold is
better."
"Yes, thank you." And a smile began to dimple about Rose's
mouth, as she remembered her retreat under the bed-cover.
Feeling that he had been received with distinguished marks of
attention, Steve strolled away with his topknot higher than ever,
and Prince Charlie pranced across the room, saying in a free and
easy tone
"Mamma sent her love and hopes you will be well enough to come
over for a day next week. It must be desperately dull here for a
little thing like you."
"I'm thirteen and a half, though I do look small," cried Rose,
forgetting her shyness in indignation at this insult to her newly
acquired teens.
"Beg pardon, ma'am; never should have guessed it." And Charlie
went off with a laugh, glad to have struck a spark out of his meek
cousin.
Geordie and Will came together, two sturdy eleven and twelve
year olders, and, fixing their round blue eyes on Rose, fired off a
question apiece, as if it was a shooting match and she the target.
"Did you bring your monkey?"
"No; he is dead."
"Are you going to have a boat?"
"I hope not."
Here the two, with a right-about-face movement, abruptly marched
away, and little Jamie demanded with childish frankness
"Did you bring me anything nice?"
"Yes, lots of candy," answered Rose, whereupon Jamie ascended
into her lap with a sounding kiss and the announcement that he
liked her very much.
This proceeding rather startled Rose, for the other lads looked and
laughed, and in her confusion she said hastily to the young usurper
"Did you see the circus go by?"
"When? Where?" cried all the boys in great excitement at once.
"Just before you came. At least I thought it was a circus, for I saw
a red and black sort of cart and ever so many little ponies, and--"
She got no farther, for a general shout made her pause suddenly, as
Archie explained the joke by saying in the middle of his laugh
"It was our new dog-cart and the Shetland ponies. You'll never
hear the last of your circus, cousin."
"But there were so many, and they went so fast, and the cart was so
very red," began Rose, trying to explain her mistake.
"Come and see them all!" cried the Prince. And before she knew
what was happening, she was borne away to the barn and
tumultuously introduced to three shaggy ponies and the gay new
dog-cart.
She had never visited these regions before, and had her doubts as
to the propriety of her being there now, but when she suggested
that "Auntie might not like it," there was a general cry of
"She told us to amuse you, and we can do it ever so much better
out here than poking round in the house."
"I'm afraid I shall get cold without my sacque," began Rose, who
wanted to stay, but felt rather out of her element.
"No, you won't! We'll fix you," cried the lads, as one clapped his
cap on her head, another tied a rough jacket round her neck by the
sleeves, a third neatly smothered her in a carriage blanket, and a
fourth threw open the door of the old barouche that stood there,
saying with a flourish
"Step in, ma'am, and make yourself comfortable while we show
you some fun."
So Rose sat in state enjoying herself very much, for the lads
proceeded to dance a Highland Fling with a spirit and skill that
made her clap her hands and laugh as she had not done for weeks.
"How is that, my lassie?" asked the Prince, coming up all flushed
and breathless when the ballet was over.
"It was splendid! I never went to the theatre but once, and the
dancing was not half so pretty as this. What clever boys you must
be!" said Rose, smiling upon her kinsmen like a little queen upon
her subjects.
"Ah, we're a fine lot, and that is only the beginning of our larks.
We haven't got the pipes here or we'd
'Sing for you, play for you
A dulcy melody."'
answered Charlie, looking much elated at her praise.
"I did not know we were Scotch; papa never said anything about it,
or seemed to care about Scotland, except to have me sing the old
ballads," said Rose, beginning to feel as if she had left America
behind her somewhere.
"Neither did we till lately. We've been reading Scott's novels, and
all of a sudden we remembered that our grandfather was a
Scotchman. So we hunted up the old stories, got a bagpipe, put on
our plaids, and went in, heart and soul, for the glory of the Clan.
We've been at it some time now, and it's great fun. Our people like
it, and I think we are a pretty canny set."
Archie said this from the other coach-step, where he had perched,
while the rest climbed up before and behind to join in the chat as
they rested.
"I'm Fitzjames and he's Roderick Dhu, and we'll give you the
broadsword combat some day. It's a great thing, you'd better
believe," added the Prince.
"Yes, and you should hear Steve play the pipes. He makes 'em skirl
like a good one," cried Will from the box, eager to air the
accomplishments of his race.
"Mac's the fellow to hunt up the old stories and tell us how to dress
right, and pick out rousing bits for us to speak and sing," put in
Geordie, saying a good word for the absent Worm.
"And what do you and Will do?" asked Rose of Jamie, who sat
beside her as if bound to keep her in sight till the promised gift had
been handed over.
"Oh, I'm the little foot-page, and do errands, and Will and Geordie
are the troops when we march, and the stags when we hunt, and
the traitors when we want to cut any heads off."
"They are very obliging, I'm sure," said Rose, whereat the "utility
men" beamed with modest pride and resolved to enact Wallace
and Montrose as soon as possible for their cousin's special benefit.
"Let's have a game of tag," cried the Prince, swinging himself up to
a beam with a sounding slap on Stevie's shoulder.
Regardless of his gloves, Dandy tore after him, and the rest
swarmed in every direction as if bent on breaking their necks and
dislocating their joints as rapidly as possible.
It was a new and astonishing spectacle to Rose, fresh from a prim
boarding-school, and she watched the active lads with breathless
interest, thinking their antics far superior to those of Mops, the
dear departed monkey.
Will had just covered himself with glory by pitching off a high loft
head first and coming up all right, when Phebe appeared with a
cloak, hood, and rubbers, also a message from Aunt Plenty that
"Miss Rose was to come in directly."
"All right; we'll bring her!" answered Archie, issuing some
mysterious order, which was so promptly obeyed that, before Rose
could get out of the carriage, the boys had caught hold of the pole
and rattled her out of the barn, round the oval and up to the front
door with a cheer that brought two caps to an upper window, and
caused Debby to cry aloud from the back porch
"Them harum-scarum boys will certainly be the death of that
delicate little creter!"
But the "delicate little creter" seemed all the better for her trip, and
ran up the steps looking rosy, gay, and dishevelled, to be received
with lamentation by Aunt Plenty, who begged her to go and lie
down at once.
"Oh, please don't! We have come to tea with our cousin, and we'll
be as good as gold if you'll let us stay, auntie," clamoured the boys,
who not only approved of "our cousin" but had no mind to lose
their tea, for Aunt Plenty's name but feebly expressed her bountiful
nature.
"Well, dears, you can; only be quiet, and let Rose go and take her
iron and be made tidy, and then we will see what we can find for
supper," said the old lady as she trotted away, followed by a volley
of directions for the approaching feast.
"Marmalade for me, auntie."
"Plenty of plum-cake, please."
"Tell Debby to trot out the baked pears."
"I'm your man for lemon-pie, ma'am."
"Do have fritters; Rose will like 'em."
"She'd rather have tarts, I know."
When Rose came down, fifteen minutes later, with every curl
smoothed and her most beruffled apron on, she found the boys
loafing about the long hall, and paused on the half-way landing to
take an observation, for till now she had not really examined her
new-found cousins.
There was a strong family resemblance among them, though some
of the yellow heads were darker than others, some of the cheeks
brown instead of rosy, and the ages varied all the way from
sixteen-year-old Archie to Jamie, who was ten years younger.
None of them were especially comely but the Prince, yet all were
hearty, happy-looking lads, and Rose decided that boys were not as
dreadful as she had expected to find them.
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