THE FLAG-RAISING

CONTENTS

I. A DIFFERENCE IN HEARTS
II. REBECCA'S POINT OF VIEW
III. WISDOM'S WAYS
IV. THE SAVING OF THE COLORS
V. THE STATE O' MAINE




I

A DIFFERENCE IN HEARTS

"I DON' know as I cal'lated to be the makin' of any child," Miranda had
said as she folded Aurelia's letter and laid it in the light-stand
drawer. "I s'posed of course Aurelia would send us the one we asked
for, but it's just like her to palm off that wild young one on somebody
else."

"You remember we said that Rebecca, or even Jenny might come, in case
Hannah could n't," interposed Jane.

"I know we did, but we hadn't any notion it would turn out that way,"
grumbled Miranda.

"She was a mite of a thing when we saw her three years ago," ventured
Jane; "she's had time to improve."

"And time to grow worse!"

"Won't it be kind of a privilege to put her on the right track?" asked
Jane timidly.

"I don' know about the privilege part; it'll be considerable work, I
guess. If her mother hasn't got her on the right track by now, she
won't take to it herself all of a sudden."

This depressed and depressing frame of mind had lasted until the
eventful day dawned on which Rebecca was to arrive.

"If she makes as much work after she comes as she has before, we might
as well give up hope of ever gettin' any rest," sighed Miranda as she
hung the dish towels on the barberry bushes at the side door.

"But we should have had to clean house, Rebecca or no Rebecca," urged
Jane; "and I can't see why you've scrubbed and washed and baked as you
have for that one child, nor why you've about bought out Watson's stock
of dry goods."

"I know Aurelia if you don't," responded Miranda. "I've seen her house,
and I've seen that batch o' children, wearin' one another's clothes and
never carin' whether they had 'em on right side out or not; I know what
they've had to live and dress on, and so do you. That child will like
as not come here with a bundle o' things borrowed from the rest o' the
family. She'll have Hannah's shoes and John's undershirts and Mark's
socks most likely. I suppose she never had a thimble on her finger in
her life, but she'll know the feelin' o' one before she's been here
many days. I've bought a piece of unbleached muslin and a piece o'
brown gingham for her to make up; that'll keep her busy. Of course she
won't pick up anything after herself; she probably never saw a duster,
and she'll be as hard to train into our ways as if she was a heathen."

"She'll make a dif'rence," acknowledged Jane, "but she may turn out
more biddable than we think."