The Louisa Alcott Reader by Louisa M. Alcott

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Every one was very sorry; and the children gave the good bird a fine
funeral, and buried him in the middle of the field, with a green mound
over him, and a white stone, on which was written,--

Here lies the bravest cock that ever crew:
We mourn for him with sorrow true.
Now nevermore at dawn his music shall we hear,
Waking the world like trumpet shrill and clear.
The hens all hang their heads, the chickens sadly peep;
The boys look sober, and the girls all weep.
Good-by, dear Cocky: sleep and rest,
With grass and daisies on your faithful breast;
And when you wake, brave bird, so good and true,
Clap your white wings and crow, "Cock-a-doodle-doo."

[Illustration: The lion walked awhile to rest himself.]

VI.

ROSY'S JOURNEY.

Rosy was a nice little girl who lived with her mother in a small house in
the woods. They were very poor, for the father had gone away to dig gold,
and did not come back; so they had to work hard to get food to eat and
clothes to wear. The mother spun yarn when she was able, for she was often
sick, and Rosy did all she could to help. She milked the red cow and fed
the hens; dug the garden, and went to town to sell the yarn and the eggs.

She was very good and sweet, and every one loved her; but the neighbors
were all poor, and could do little to help the child. So, when at last the
mother died, the cow and hens and house had to be sold to pay the doctor
and the debts. Then Rosy was left all alone, with no mother, no home, and
no money to buy clothes and dinners with.

"What will you do?" said the people, who were very sorry for her.

"I will go and find my father," answered Rosy, bravely.

"But he is far away, and you don't know just where he is, up among the
mountains. Stay with us and spin on your little wheel, and we will buy the
yarn, and take care of you, dear little girl," said the kind people.

"No, I must go; for mother told me to, and my father will be glad to have
me. I'm not afraid, for every one is good to me," said Rosy, gratefully.

Then the people gave her a warm red cloak, and a basket with a little loaf
and bottle of milk in it, and some pennies to buy more to eat when the
bread was gone. They all kissed her, and wished her good luck; and she
trotted away through the wood to find her father.

For some days she got on very well; for the wood-cutters were kind, and
let her sleep in their huts, and gave her things to eat. But by and by she
came to lonely places, where there were no houses; and then she was
afraid, and used to climb up in the trees to sleep, and had to eat berries
and leaves, like the Children in the Wood.

She made a fire at night, so wild beasts would not come near her; and if
she met other travellers, she was so young and innocent no one had the
heart to hurt her. She was kind to everything she met; so all little
creatures were friends to her, as we shall see.

One day, as she was resting by a river, she saw a tiny fish on the bank,
nearly dead for want of water.

"Poor thing! go and be happy again," she said, softly taking him up, and
dropping him into the nice cool river.

"Thank you, dear child; I'll not forget, but will help you some day," said
the fish, when he had taken a good drink, and felt better.

"Why, how can a tiny fish help such a great girl as I am?" laughed Rosy.

"Wait and see," answered the fish, as he swam away with a flap of his
little tail.

Rosy went on her way, and forgot all about it. But she never forgot to be
kind; and soon after, as she was looking in the grass for strawberries,
she found a field-mouse with a broken leg.

"Help me to my nest, or my babies will starve," cried the poor thing.

"Yes, I will; and bring these berries so that you can keep still till your
leg is better, and have something to eat."

Rosy took the mouse carefully in her little hand, and tied up the broken
leg with a leaf of spearmint and a blade of grass. Then she carried her to
the nest under the roots of an old tree, where four baby mice were
squeaking sadly for their mother. She made a bed of thistledown for the
sick mouse, and put close within reach all the berries and seeds she could
find, and brought an acorn-cup of water from the spring, so they could be
comfortable.

"Good little Rosy, I shall pay you for all this kindness some day," said
the mouse, when she was done.

"I'm afraid you are not big enough to do much," answered Rosy, as she ran
off to go on her journey.

"Wait and see," called the mouse; and all the little ones squeaked, as if
they said the same.

Some time after, as Rosy lay up in a tree, waiting for the sun to rise,
she heard a great buzzing close by, and saw a fly caught in a cobweb that
went from one twig to another. The big spider was trying to spin him all
up, and the poor fly was struggling to get away before his legs and wings
were helpless.

Rosy put up her finger and pulled down the web, and the spider ran away at
once to hide under the leaves. But the happy fly sat on Rosy's hand,
cleaning his wings, and buzzing so loud for joy that it sounded like a
little trumpet.

"You've saved my life, and I'll save yours, if I can," said the fly,
twinkling his bright eye at Rosy.

"You silly thing, you can't help me," answered Rosy, climbing down, while
the fly buzzed away, saying, like the mouse and fish,--

"Wait and see; wait and see."

Rosy trudged on and on, till at last she came to the sea. The mountains
were on the other side; but how should she get over the wide water? No
ships were there, and she had no money to hire one if there had been any;
so she sat on the shore, very tired and sad, and cried a few big tears as
salt as the sea.

"Hullo!" called a bubbly sort of voice close by; and the fish popped up
his head. Rosy ran to see what he wanted.

"I've come to help you over the water," said the fish.

"How can you, when I want a ship, and some one to show me the way?"
answered Rosy.

"I shall just call my friend the whale, and he will take you over better
than a ship, because he won't get wrecked. Don't mind if he spouts and
flounces about a good deal, he is only playing; so you needn't be
frightened."

Down dived the little fish, and Rosy waited to see what would happen; for
she didn't believe such a tiny thing could really bring a whale to help
her.

Presently what looked like a small island came floating through the sea;
and turning round, so that its tail touched the shore, the whale said, in
a roaring voice that made her jump,--

"Come aboard, little girl, and hold on tight. I'll carry you wherever you
like."

It was rather a slippery bridge, and Rosy was rather scared at this big,
strange boat; but she got safely over, and held on fast; then, with a roll
and a plunge, off went the whale, spouting two fountains, while his tail
steered him like the rudder of a ship.

Rosy liked it, and looked down into the deep sea, where all sorts of queer
and lovely things were to be seen. Great fishes came and looked at her;
dolphins played near to amuse her; the pretty nautilus sailed by in its
transparent boat; and porpoises made her laugh with their rough play.
Mermaids brought her pearls and red coral to wear, sea-apples to eat, and
at night sung her to sleep with their sweet lullabies.

So she had a very pleasant voyage, and ran on shore with many thanks to
the good whale, who gave a splendid spout, and swam away.

Then Rosy travelled along till she came to a desert. Hundreds of miles of
hot sand, with no trees or brooks or houses.

"I never can go that way," she said; "I should starve, and soon be worn
out walking in that hot sand. What _shall_ I do?"

"Quee, quee!
Wait and see:
You were good to me;
So here I come,
From my little home,
To help you willingly,"

said a friendly voice; and there was the mouse, looking at her with its
bright eyes full of gratitude.

"Why, you dear little thing, I'm very glad to see you; but I'm sure you
can't help me across this desert," said Rosy, stroking its soft back.

"That's easy enough," answered the mouse, rubbing its paws briskly. "I'll
just call my friend the lion; he lives here, and he'll take you across
with pleasure."

"Oh, I'm afraid he'd rather eat me. How dare you call that fierce beast?"
cried Rosy, much surprised.

"I gnawed him out of a net once, and he promised to help me. He is a noble
animal, and he will keep his word."

Then the mouse sang, in its shrill little voice,--

"O lion, grand,
Come over the sand,
And help me now, I pray!
Here's a little lass,
Who wants to pass;
Please carry her on her way."

In a moment a loud roar was heard, and a splendid yellow lion, with fiery
eyes and a long mane, came bounding over the sand to meet them.

"What can I do for you, tiny friend?" he said, looking at the mouse, who
was not a bit frightened, though Rosy hid behind a rock, expecting every
moment to be eaten.

Mousie told him, and the good lion said pleasantly,--

"I'll take the child along. Come on, my dear; sit on my back and hold fast
to my mane, for I'm a swift horse, and you might fall off."

Then he crouched down like a great cat, and Rosy climbed up, for he was so
kind she could not fear him; and away they went, racing over the sand till
her hair whistled in the wind. As soon as she got her breath, she thought
it great fun to go flying along, while other lions and tigers rolled their
fierce eyes at her, but dared not touch her; for this lion was king of
all, and she was quite safe. They met a train of camels with loads on
their backs; and the people travelling with them wondered what queer thing
was riding that fine lion. It looked like a very large monkey in a red
cloak, but went so fast they never saw that it was a little girl.

"How glad I am that I was kind to the mouse; for if the good little
creature had not helped me, I never could have crossed this desert," said
Rosy, as the lion walked awhile to rest himself.

"And if the mouse had not gnawed me out of the net I never should have
come at her call. You see, little people can conquer big ones, and make
them gentle and friendly by kindness," answered the lion.

Then away they went again, faster than ever, till they came to the green
country. Rosy thanked the good beast, and he ran back, for if any one saw
him, they would try to catch him.

"Now I have only to climb up these mountains and find father," thought
Rosy, as she saw the great hills before her, with many steep roads winding
up to the top, and far, far away rose the smoke from the huts where the
men lived and dug for gold. She started off bravely, but took the wrong
road, and after climbing a long while found the path ended in rocks over
which she could not go. She was very tired and hungry; for her food was
gone, and there were no houses in this wild place. Night was coming on,
and it was so cold she was afraid she would freeze before morning, but
dared not go on lest she should fall down some steep hole and be killed.
Much discouraged, she lay down on the moss and cried a little; then she
tried to sleep, but something kept buzzing in her ear, and looking
carefully she saw a fly prancing about on the moss, as if anxious to make
her listen to his song,--

"Rosy, my dear,
Don't cry,--I'm here
To help you all I can.
I'm only a fly,
But you'll see that I
Will keep my word like a man."

Rosy couldn't help laughing to hear the brisk little fellow talk as if he
could do great things; but she was very glad to see him and hear his
cheerful song, so she held out her finger, and while he sat there told him
all her troubles.

"Bless your heart! my friend the eagle will carry you right up the
mountains and leave you at your father's door," cried the fly; and he was
off with a flirt of his gauzy wings, for he meant what he said.

Rosy was ready for her new horse, and not at all afraid after the whale
and the lion; so when a great eagle swooped down and alighted near her,
she just looked at his sharp claws, big eyes, and crooked beak as coolly
as if he had been a cock-robin.

He liked her courage, and said kindly in his rough voice,--

"Hop up, little girl, and sit among my feathers. Hold me fast round the
neck, or you may grow dizzy and get a fall."

Rosy nestled down among the thick gray feathers, and put both arms round
his neck; and whiz they went, up, up, up, higher and higher, till the
trees looked like grass, they were so far below. At first it was very
cold, and Rosy cuddled deeper into her feather bed; then, as they came
nearer to the sun, it grew warm, and she peeped out to see the huts
standing in a green spot on the top of the mountain.

"Here we are. You'll find all the men are down in the mine at this time.
They won't come up till morning; so you will have to wait for your father.
Good-by; good luck, my dear." And the eagle soared away, higher still, to
his nest among the clouds.

It was night now, but fires were burning in all the houses; so Rosy went
from hut to hut trying to find her father's, that she might rest while she
waited: at last in one the picture of a pretty little girl hung on the
wall, and under it was written, "My Rosy." Then she knew that this was the
right place; and she ate some supper, put on more wood, and went to bed,
for she wanted to be fresh when her father came in the morning.

While she slept a storm came on,--thunder rolled and lightning flashed,
the wind blew a gale, and rain poured,--but Rosy never waked till dawn,
when she heard men shouting outside,--

"Run, run! The river is rising! We shall all be drowned!"

Rosy ran out to see what was the matter, though the wind nearly blew her
away; she found that so much rain had made the river overflow till it
began to wash the banks away.

"What shall I do? what shall I do?" cried Rosy, watching the men rush
about like ants, getting their bags of gold ready to carry off before the
water swept them away, if it became a flood.

As if in answer to her cry, Rosy heard a voice say close by,--

"Splash, dash!
Rumble and crash!
Here come the beavers gay;
See what they do,
Rosy, for you,
Because you helped _me_ one day."

And there in the water was the little fish swimming about, while an army
of beavers began to pile up earth and stones in a high bank to keep the
river back. How they worked, digging and heaping with teeth and claws, and
beating the earth hard with their queer tails like shovels! Rosy and the
men watched them work, glad to be safe, while the storm cleared up; and by
the time the dam was made, all danger was over. Rosy looked into the faces
of the rough men, hoping her father was there, and was just going to ask
about him, when a great shouting rose again, and all began to run to the
pit hole, saying,--

"The sand has fallen in! The poor fellows will be smothered! How can we
get them out? how can we get them out?"

Rosy ran too, feeling as if her heart would break; for her father was down
in the mine, and would die soon if air did not come to him. The men dug as
hard as they could; but it was a long job, and they feared they would not
be in time.

Suddenly hundreds of moles came scampering along, and began to burrow down
through the earth, making many holes for air to go in; for they know how
to build galleries through the ground better than men can. Every one was
so surprised they stopped to look on; for the dirt flew like rain as the
busy little fellows scratched and bored as if making an underground
railway.

"What does it mean?" said the men. "They work faster than we can, and
better; but who sent them? Is this strange little girl a fairy?"

Before Rosy could speak, all heard a shrill, small voice singing,--

"They come at my call;
And though they are small,
They'll dig the passage clear:
I never forget;
We'll save them yet,
For love of Rosy dear."

Then all saw a little gray mouse sitting on a stone, waving her tail
about, and pointing with her tiny paw to show the moles where to dig.

The men laughed; and Rosy was telling them who she was, when a cry came
from the pit, and they saw that the way was clear so they could pull the
buried men up. In a minute they got ropes, and soon had ten poor fellows
safe on the ground; pale and dirty, but all alive, and all shouting as if
they were crazy,--

"Tom's got it! Tom's got it! Hooray for Tom!"

"What is it?" cried the others; and then they saw Tom come up with the
biggest lump of gold ever found in the mountains.

Every one was glad of Tom's luck; for he was a good man, and had worked a
long time, and been sick, and couldn't go back to his wife and child. When
he saw Rosy, he dropped the lump, and caught her up, saying,--

"My little girl! she's better than a million pounds of gold."

Then Rosy was very happy, and went back to the hut, and had a lovely time
telling her father all about her troubles and her travels. He cried when
he heard that the poor mother was dead before she could have any of the
good things the gold would buy them.

"We will go away and be happy together in the pleasantest home I can find,
and never part any more, my darling," said the father, kissing Rosy as she
sat on his knee with her arms round his neck.

She was just going to say something very sweet to comfort him, when a fly
lit on her arm and buzzed very loud,--

"Don't drive me away,
But hear what I say:
Bad men want the gold;
They will steal it to-night,
And you must take flight;
So be quiet and busy and bold."

"I was afraid some one would take my lump away. I'll pack up at once, and
we will creep off while the men are busy at work; though I'm afraid we
can't go fast enough to be safe, if they miss us and come after," said
Tom, bundling his gold into a bag and looking very sober; for some of the
miners were wild fellows, and might kill him for the sake of that great
lump.

But the fly sang again,--

"Slip away with me,
And you will see
What a wise little thing am I;
For the road I show
No man can know,
Since it's up in the pathless sky."

Then they followed Buzz to a quiet nook in the wood; and there were the
eagle and his mate waiting to fly away with them so fast and so far that
no one could follow. Rosy and the bag of gold were put on the mother
eagle; Tom sat astride the king bird; and away they flew to a great city,
where the little girl and her father lived happily together all their
lives.

[Illustration: Poor Billy dangling from a bough, high above the ground.]

VII.

HOW THEY RAN AWAY.

Two little boys sat on the fence whittling arrows one fine day. Said one
little boy to the other little boy,--

"Let's do something jolly."

"All right. What will we do?"

"Run off to the woods and be hunters."

"What can we hunt?"

"Bears and foxes"

"Mullin says there ain't any round here."

"Well, we can shoot squirrels and snare wood-chucks."

"Haven't got any guns and trap."

"We've got our bows, and I found an old trap behind the barn."

"What will we eat?"

"Here's our lunch; and when that's gone we can roast the squirrels and
cook the fish on a stick. I know how."

"Where will you get the fire?"

"Got matches in my pocket."

"I've got a lot of things we could use. Let's see."

And as if satisfied at last, cautious Billy displayed his treasures, while
bold Tommy did the same.

Besides the two knives there were strings, nails, matches, a piece of
putty, fish-hooks, and two very dirty handkerchiefs.

"There, sir, that's a first-rate fit-out for hunters; and with the jolly
basket of lunch Mrs. Mullin gave us, we can get on tip-top for two or
three days," said Tommy, eager to be off.

"Where shall we sleep?" asked Billy, who liked to be comfortable both
night and day.

"Oh, up in trees or on beds of leaves, like the fellows in our books. If
you are afraid, stay at home; I'm going to have no end of a good time."
And Tommy crammed the things back into his pockets as if there were no
time to lose.

"Pooh! I ain't afraid. Come on!" And jumping down Billy caught up his rod,
rather ashamed of his many questions.

No one was looking at them, and they might have walked quietly off; but
that the "running away" might be all right, both raced down the road,
tumbled over a wall, and dashed into the woods as if a whole tribe of wild
Indians were after them.

"Do you know the way?" panted Billy, when at last they stopped for breath.

"Yes, it winds right up the mountain; but we'd better not keep to it, or
some one will see us and take us back. We are going to be _real_
hunters and have adventures; so we must get lost, and find our way by the
sun and the stars," answered Tommy, who had read so many Boys' Books his
little head was a jumble of Texan Rangers, African Explorers, and Buffalo
Bills; and he burned to outdo them all.

"What will our mothers say if we really get lost?" asked Billy, always
ready with a question.

"Mine won't fuss. She lets me do what I like."

That was true; for Tommy's poor mamma was tired of trying to keep the
lively little fellow in order, and had got used to seeing him come out of
all his scrapes without much harm.

"Mine will be scared; she's always afraid I'm going to get hurt, so I'm
careful. But I guess I'll risk it, and have some fun to tell about when we
go home," said Billy, trudging after Captain Tommy, who always took the
lead.

These eleven-year-old boys were staying with their mothers at a farm-house
up among the mountains; and having got tired of the tame bears, the big
barn, the trout brook, the thirty colts at pasture, and the society of the
few little girls and younger boys at the hotel near by, these fine fellows
longed to break loose and "rough it in the bush," as the hunters did in
their favorite stories.

Away they went, deeper and deeper into the great forest that covered the
side of the mountain. A pleasant place that August day; for it was cool
and green, with many brooks splashing over the rocks, or lying in brown
pools under the ferns. Squirrels chattered and raced in the tall pines;
now and then a gray rabbit skipped out of sight among the brakes, or a
strange bird flew by. Here and there blackberries grew in the open places,
sassafras bushes were plentiful, and black-birch bark was ready for
chewing.

"Don't you call this nice?" asked Tommy, pausing at last in a little dell
where a noisy brook came tumbling down the mountain side, and the pines
sung overhead.

"Yes; but I'm awful hungry. Let's rest and eat our lunch," said Billy,
sitting down on a cushion of moss.

"You always want to be stuffing and resting," answered sturdy Tommy, who
liked to be moving all the time.

He took the fishing-basket, which hung over his shoulder by a strap, and
opened it carefully; for good Mrs. Mullin had packed a nice lunch of bread
and butter, cake and peaches, with a bottle of milk, and two large pickles
slipped in on the sly to please the boys.

Tommy's face grew very sober as he looked in, for all he saw was a box of
worms for bait and an old jacket.

"By George! we've got the wrong basket. This is Mullin's, and he's gone
off with our prog. Won't he be mad?"

"Not as mad as I am. Why didn't you look? You are always in such a hurry
to start. What _shall_ we do now without anything to eat?" whined
Billy; for losing his lunch was a dreadful blow to him.

"We shall have to catch some fish and eat blackberries. Which will you do,
old cry-baby?" said Tommy, laughing at the other boy's dismal face.

"I'll fish; I'm so tired I can't go scratching round after berries. I
don't love 'em, either." And Billy began to fix his line and bait his
hook.

"Lucky we got the worms; you can eat 'em if you can't wait for fish," said
Tommy, bustling about to empty the basket and pile up their few
possessions in a heap. "There's a quiet pool below here, you go and fish
there. I'll pick the berries, and then show you how to get dinner in the
woods. This is our camp; so fly round and do your best."

Then Tommy ran off to a place near by where he had seen the berries, while
Billy found a comfortable nook by the pool, and sat scowling at the water
so crossly, it was a wonder any trout came to his hook. But the fat worms
tempted several small ones, and he cheered up at the prospect of food.
Tommy whistled while he picked, and in half an hour came back with two
quarts of nice berries and an armful of dry sticks for the fire.

"We'll have a jolly dinner, after all," he said, as the flames went
crackling up, and the dry leaves made a pleasant smell.

"Got four, but don't see how we'll ever cook 'em; no frying-pan," grumbled
Billy, throwing down the four little trout, which he had half cleaned.

"Don't want any. Broil 'em on the coals, or toast 'em on a forked stick.
I'll show you how," said cheerful Tommy, whittling away, and feeding his
fire as much like a real hunter as a small boy could be.

While he worked, Billy ate berries and sighed for bread and butter. At
last, after much trouble, two of the trout were half cooked and eagerly
eaten by the hungry boys. But they were very different from the nice brown
ones Mrs. Mullin gave them; for in spite of Tommy's struggles they would
fall in the ashes, and there was no salt to eat with them. By the time the
last were toasted, the young hunters were so hungry they could have eaten
anything, and not a berry was left.

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