care, and was so hurt when Bess said, “I love my tuzzin best, tause
she is twiet,” that she shook poor Daisy till her teeth chattered in
her head, and then fled to the barn to cry dismally. In that general
refuge for perturbed spirits she found comfort and good counsel
from some source or other. Perhaps the swallows from their
mud-built nests overhead twittered her a little lecture on the beauty
of gentleness. However that might have been, she came out quite
subdued, and carefully searched the orchard for a certain kind of
early apple that Bess liked because it was sweet and small and
rosy. Armed with this peace-offering, she approached the little
Princess, and humbly presented it. To her great joy it was
graciously accepted, and when Daisy gave Nan a forgiving kiss,
Bess did likewise, as if she felt that she had been too severe, and
desired to apologize. After this they played pleasantly together,
and Nan enjoyed the royal favor for days. To be sure she felt a
little like a wild bird in a pretty cage at first, and occasionally had
to slip out to stretch her wings in a long flight, or to sing at the top
of her voice, where neither would disturb the plump turtle-dove
Daisy, nor the dainty golden canary Bess. But it did her good; for,
seeing how every one loved the little Princess for her small graces
and virtues, she began to imitate her, because Nan wanted much
love, and tried hard to win it.
Not a boy in the house but felt the pretty child’s influence, and was
improved by it without exactly knowing how or why, for babies
can work miracles in the hearts that love them. Poor Billy found
infinite satisfaction in staring at her, and though she did not like it
she permitted without a frown, after she had been made to
understand that he was not quite like the others, and on that
account must be more kindly treated. Dick and Dolly
overwhelmed her with willow whistles, the only thing they knew
how to make, and she accepted but never used them. Rob served
her like a little lover, and Teddy followed her like a pet dog. Jack
she did not like, because he was afflicted with warts and had a
harsh voice. Stuffy displeased her because he did not eat tidily, and
George tried hard not to gobble, that he might not disgust the
dainty little lady opposite. Ned was banished from court in utter
disgrace when he was discovered tormenting some unhappy
field-mice. Goldilocks could never forget the sad spectacle, and
retired behind her veil when he approached, waving him away
with an imperious little hand, and crying, in a tone of mingled
grief and anger,
“No, I tarn’t love him; he tut the poor mouses’ little tails off, and
they queeked!”
Daisy promptly abdicated when Bess came, and took the humble
post of chief cook, while Nan was first maid of honor; Emil was
chancellor of the exchequer, and spent the public monies lavishly
in getting up spectacles that cost whole ninepences. Franz was
prime minister, and directed her affairs of state, planned royal
progresses through the kingdom, and kept foreign powers in order.
Demi was her philosopher, and fared much better than such
gentlemen usually do among crowned heads. Dan was her standing
army, and defended her territories gallantly; Tommy was court
fool, and Nat a tuneful Rizzio to this innocent little Mary.
Uncle Fritz and Aunt Jo enjoyed this peaceful episode, and looked
on at the pretty play in which the young folk unconsciously
imitated their elders, without adding the tragedy that is so apt to
spoil the dramas acted on the larger stage.
“They teach us quite as much as we teach them,” said Mr. Bhaer.
“Bless the dears! they never guess how many hints they give us as
to the best way of managing them,” answered Mrs. Jo.
“I think you were right about the good effect of having girls among
the boys. Nan has stirred up Daisy, and Bess is teaching the little
bears how to behave better than we can. If this reformation goes on