Jack and Jill by Louisa May Alcott

dark; such droll collisions as boys came racing round corners, or

girls ran into one another’s arms as they crept up and down steps

on the sly; such laughing, whistling, flying about of flowers and

friendly feeling–it was almost a pity that May-day did not come

oftener.

Molly got home late, and found that Grif had been before her, after

all; for she stumbled over a market-basket at her door, and on

taking it in found a mammoth nosegay of purple and white

cabbages, her favorite vegetable. Even Miss Bat laughed at the

funny sight, and Molly resolved to get Ralph to carve her a

bouquet out of carrots, beets, and turnips for next time, as Grif

would never think of that.

Merry ran up the garden-walk alone, for Frank left her at the gate,

and was fumbling for the latch when she felt something hanging

there. Opening the door carefully, she found it gay with offerings

from her mates; and among them was one long quiver-shaped

basket of birch bark, with something heavy under the green leaves

that lay at the top. Lifting these, a slender has-relief of a calla lily

in plaster appeared, with this couplet slipped into the blue cord by

which it was to hang:

“That mercy you to others show

That Mercy Grant to me.”

“How lovely! and this one will never fade, but always be a

pleasure hanging there. Now, I really have something beautiful all

my own,” said Merry to herself as she ran up to hang the pretty

thing on the dark wainscot of her room, where the graceful curve

of its pointed leaves and the depth of its white cup would be a joy

to her eyes as long as they lasted.

“I wonder what that means,” and Merry read over the lines again,

while a soft color came into her cheeks and a little smile of girlish

pleasure began to dimple round her lips; for she was so romantic,

this touch of sentiment showed her that her friendship was more

valued than she dreamed. But she only said, “How glad I am I

remembered him, and how surprised he will be to see mayflowers

in return for the lily.”

He was, and worked away more happily and bravely for the

thought of the little friend whose eyes would daily fall on the

white flower which always reminded him of her.

Chapter 19 Good Templars

“Hi there! Bell’s rung! Get up, lazy-bones!” called Frank from his

room as the clock struck six one bright morning, and a great

creaking and stamping proclaimed that he was astir.

“All right, I’m coming,” responded a drowsy voice, and Jack turned

over as if to obey; but there the effort ended, and he was off again,

for growing lads are hard to rouse, as many a mother knows to her

sorrow.

Frank made a beginning on his own toilet, and then took a look at

his brother, for the stillness was suspicious.

“I thought so! He told me to wake him, and I guess this will do it”;

and, filling his great sponge with water, Frank stalked into the next

room and stood over the unconscious victim like a stern

executioner, glad to unite business with pleasure in this agreeable

manner.

A woman would have relented and tried some milder means, for

when his broad shoulders and stout limbs were hidden, Jack

looked very young and innocent in his sleep. Even Frank paused a

moment to look at the round, rosy face, the curly eyelashes,

half-open mouth, and the peaceful expression of a dreaming baby.

“I must do it, or he won’t be ready for breakfast,” said the Spartan

brother, and down came the sponge, cold, wet, and choky, as it

was briskly rubbed to and fro regardless of every obstacle.

“Come, I say! That’s not fair! Leave me alone!” sputtered Jack,

hitting out so vigorously that the sponge flew across the room, and

Frank fell back to laugh at the indignant sufferer.

“I promised to wake you, and you believe in keeping promises, so

I’m doing my best to get you up.”

“Well, you needn’t pour a quart of water down a fellow’s neck, and