Alcott, Louisa May - SSC 11 Read Online Free PDF Page A

in
demand; and her face was so full of innocent delight and gratitude it quite
touched the old man who sold her the paints, and gave her more than her money's
worth, remembering his own hard times and pitying the pretty young girl whose
father he had known.
                             So Jessie did not have to pretend very hard at being "as
gay as a lark" when she got home and showed her treasures. Laura
was so happy over the unexpected gifts that the dinner of bread and milk and
grapes was quite a picnic; and Jessie found a smile on her face when she went
to dress for her party.
                            
It was only a child's party at the house of one of Mademoiselle's pupils, and
Jessie was merely invited to help the little people through their dancing. She
did not like to go in this way, as she was sure to meet familiar faces there,
full of the pity, curiosity, or indifference so hard for a girl to bear. But
Mademoiselle asked it as a favor, and Jessie was grateful; so she went,
expecting no pleasure and certain of much weariness, if not annoyance.
                            
When she was ready,—and it did not take long to slip on the white woollen
dress, brush out the curly dark hair, and fold up slippers and gloves,—she
stood before her glass looking at herself, quite conscious that she was very
pretty, with her large eyes, blooming cheeks, and the lofty little air which
nothing could change. She was also painfully conscious that her dress was
neither fresh nor becoming without a bit of ribbon or a knot of flowers to give
it the touch of color it needed. She had an artistic eye, and used to delight
in ordering charming costumes for herself in the happy days when all her wishes
were granted as if fairies still lived. She tossed over her very small store of
ribbons in vain; everything had been worn till neither beauty nor freshness
remained.
                             "Oh dear! where CAN I
find something to make me look less like a nun,—and a very shabby one,
too?" she said, longing for the pink corals she sold to pay Laura's
doctor's bill.
                            
The sound of a soft tap, tap, tap, startled her, and she ran to open the door.
No one was there but Laura, fast asleep on the sofa. Tap, tap, tap ! went the invisible hand; and
as the sound seemed to come from the window, Jessie glanced that way, thinking
her tame dove had corne to be fed. Neither hungry dove nor bold sparrow
appeared,—only a spray of Japanese ivy waving in the wind. A very pretty spray
it was, covered with tiny crimson leaves; and it tapped impatiently, as if it
answered her question by saying, "Here is a garland for you; come and take
it."
                            
Jessie's quick eye was caught at once by the fine color, and running to the
window she looked out as eagerly as if a new idea had come into her head. It
was a dull November day, and the prospect of sheds, ash-barrels, and old brooms
was a gloomy one; but the whole back of the house glowed with the red tendrils
of the hardy vine that clung to and covered the dingy bricks with a royal
mantle, as if eager to cheer the eyes and hearts of all who looked. It preached
a little sermon of courage, aspiration, and content to those who had the skill
to read it, and bade them see how, springing from the scanty soil of that back
yard full of the commonest objects, the humblest work, it set its little
creepers in the crannies of the stone, and struggled up to find the sun and
air, till it grew strong and beautiful,—making the blank wall green in summer,
glorious in autumn, and a refuge in winter, when it welcomed the sparrows to
the shelter of its branches where the sun lay warmest.
                            
Jessie loved this beautiful neighbor, and had enjoyed it all that summer,—the
first she ever spent in the hot city. She felt the