Eight Cousins (Bedtime Story) Part 5

Eighth Cousins is a novel written by Louisa May Alcott that tells the story of Rose Campbell, a young orphaned girl who goes to live with her wealthy aunts and uncles after the death of her parents. Rose is the only girl in a family of seven boys, her "eighth cousins," and she quickly forms strong bonds with her new relatives.

As Rose grows up under the guidance of her loving family, she learns valuable lessons about independence, friendship, and the importance of following one's own path in life. Throughout the novel, Rose faces challenges and adventures that help her to discover her own strengths and passions. Eight Cousins is a heartwarming coming-of-age story that explores themes of family, identity, and the power of love and support. It is a timeless tale that continues to resonate with readers of all ages.

Transcript

CHAPTER FIVE A BELT AND A BOX When Rose came out of her chamber,

Cup in her hand,

Next morning,

The first person she saw was Uncle Alec,

Standing on the threshold of the room opposite,

Which he appeared to be examining with care.

When he heard her step he turned about and began to sing.

Where are you going,

My pretty maid?

I'm going a-milking,

Sir,

She said,

Answered Rose,

Waving the cup,

And then they finished the verse together in a fine style.

Before either spoke a head in a nightcap so large and beruffled that it looked like a cabbage popped out of a room further down the hall,

And an astonished voice exclaimed,

What in the world are you doing about so early?

Bring our pipes for the day,

Ma'am.

Look here,

Auntie,

Can I have this room?

Said Dr.

Alec,

Making her a sailor's bow.

Any room you like,

Except sister's.

Thanks,

And may I go rummaging round in the garrets and glorials to furnish it as I like.

My dear boy,

You may turn the house upside down if you will only stay in it.

That is a handsome offer,

I'm sure.

I will stay,

Ma'am.

Here is my little anchor,

So you will get more than you want of me this time.

That is impossible.

Put on your jacket,

Rose,

Don't tire her out with antics.

Yes,

Sister,

I'm coming.

And the cabbage vanished suddenly.

The first milking lesson was a troll one,

But after several scares and many vain attempts Rose at last managed to fill her cup while Ben held Clover's tail so that it could not flap and Dr.

Alec kept her from turning to stare at the new milkmaid,

Who objected to both these proceedings very much.

You look chilly in spite of all this laughing.

Take a smart run round the garden and get up a glow,

Said the doctor as they left the barn.

I am too old for running,

Uncle,

Miss Power said.

It was not ladylike for girls in their teens,

Answered Rose primly.

I take the liberty of differing from Madame Prunes and Prims,

And as your physician I order you to run.

Off with you,

Said Uncle Alec with a look and gesture that made Rose scurry away as fast as she could.

Just to please him she raced round the beds and dropping down upon the steps.

She sat panting,

With cheeks as rosy as the regolette on her shoulders.

Very well done,

Child.

I see you have not lost the use of your limbs though you are in your teens.

That belt is too tight.

Unfasten it.

Then you can take a long breath without panting so.

It isn't tight,

Sir.

I can breathe perfectly well,

Began Rose.

Trying to compose herself,

Her uncle's only answer was to lift her up and unhook the new belt of which she was so proud.

The moment the clasp was open the belt flew apart several inches,

For it was impossible to restrain in one lentery sigh of relief flatly contradicted her words.

Why I didn't know it was tight.

It didn't feel so a bit.

Of course,

If I puff like this,

But I never do because I hardly ever run.

Explained Rose rather discomfodite by this discovery.

I see you don't half feel your lungs,

And so you can wear this absurd thing without feeling it.

The idea of cramping a tender little waist in a stiff band of leather and steel just when it ought to be growing,

Said Dr.

Alec,

Serving the belt with great disfavor as he put the clasp forward several holes.

To Rose's secret dismay,

For she was proud of her slender figure,

And daily rejoiced that she wasn't as stout as Lulu Miller,

A former schoolmate who vainly tried to repress her plumpness.

It will fall off if it is loose,

She said anxiously,

As she stood watching him pull her precious belt about.

Not if you keep taking long breaths to hold on it.

That is what I want you to do.

When you have filled this out,

We will go on enlarging it till your waist is more like that of Hebb's,

Goddess of Health.

How it does look?

And Rose gave a glance of scorn at the loose belt hanging round her trim little waist.

It will be lost,

And then I shall feel badly,

For it cost ever so much,

And is a real steel and Russia leather.

Just smell how nice!

If it is lost,

I will give you a better one.

A soft silken sash is much fitter for a pretty child like you than a plaited harness like this,

And I have got no end of Italian scarves and Turkish sashes among my traps.

That makes you feel better,

Doesn't it?

And he pinched a cheek that had suddenly dimpled with a smile.

It is very silly of me,

But I can't help liking to know that.

Here she stopped and blushed and held down her head,

Ashamed to add,

You think I am pretty?

Dr.

Alex's eyes twinkled,

But he said very soberly,

Rose,

Are you vain?

I am afraid I am,

Answered a very meek voice from behind the wheel of hair that hid the red face.

That is a sad fault,

And he sighed as if grieved at the confession.

I know it is,

And I try not to be,

But people praise me,

And I can't help liking it,

For I really don't think I am repulsive.

The last word and the funny tone in which it was uttered were too much for Dr.

Alex,

And he laughed in spite of himself,

To Rose's great relief.

I quite agree with you,

And in order that you may be still less repulsive,

I want you to grow as a fine girl as Phoebe.

Phoebe?

And Rose looked so amazed that her uncle nearly went off again.

Yes,

Phoebe,

For she has what you need help,

If you,

Dear little girl,

Would only learn what real beauty is,

And not pinch and starve and bleach yourself out so.

You would save an immense deal of time and money and pain.

A happy soul in a healthy body makes the best sort of beauty for man or woman.

Do you understand that,

My dear?

Yes,

Sir,

Answered Rose,

Much taken down by this comparison with the girl from the poorhouse.

It nettled her sadly,

And she showed that it did,

By saying quickly,

I suppose you would like to have me sweep and scrub and wear an old brown dress and go around with my sleeves rolled up,

As Phoebe does.

I should very much,

If you could work as well as she does,

And show as strong a pair of arms as she can.

I haven't seen a prettier picture for some time than she made of herself this morning,

Up to the elbows in suds,

Singing like a blackbird while she scrubbed on the kitchen backstoop.

Well I do think you are the queerest man that ever lived,

Was all Rose could find to say after this display of bad taste.

I haven't begun to show you my oddities yet,

So you must make up your mind to worse shocks than this,

He said,

With such a whimsical look that she was glad the sound of a bell prevented her showing more plainly what a blow her little vanities had already received.

You will find your box all opened up in auntie's parlor,

And there you can amuse her and yourself by rummaging to your heart's content.

I've got to be cruising round all the morning getting my room to rights,

Said Dr.

Alec,

As they rose from breakfast.

Can't I help you,

Uncle?

Asked Rose,

Quite burning to be useful.

No thank you.

I'm going to borrow Phoebe for a while,

If aunt Plenty can spare her.

Anybody,

Anything,

Alec.

You will want me.

I know.

So I will give orders about dinner,

And be all ready to lend a hand at the old lady puzzled away full of interest and goodwill.

People will find that I can do some things that Phoebe can't.

So now,

Thought Rose,

With a toss of the head,

As she flew to aunt Peace and the long-desired box,

Every little girl can easily imagine what an extra good time she had,

Diving into a sea of treasures and fishing up one pretty thing after another,

Till the air was full of the mingled odors of musk and sandalwood,

The room gay with bright colors,

And Rose in a rapture of delight,

She began to forgive Dr.

Alec for the oatmeal diet,

When she saw a lovely ivory work-box,

Became resigned to the state of her belt,

When she found a pile of rainbow-colored shashes,

And when she came to some distractingly pretty bottles of a fair of rose,

She felt that they almost atoned for the great sin of thinking Phoebe the finer girl of the two.

Dr.

Alec,

Meanwhile,

Had apparently taken aunt Plenty at her word,

And was turning the house upside down.

A general revolution was evidently going on in the green room,

For the dark damask curtains were seen bundling away in Phoebe's arms,

The air tight still retiring to the cellar on Ben's shoulders,

And the great bedstead going up garret in a fragmentary state,

Escorted by three bearers.

Aunt Plenty was constantly on the trot among the storerooms,

Chamber,

Chest,

And linen closets,

Looking as if the new order of things both amazed and amused her.

Half the peculiar performances of Dr.

Alec cannot be revealed,

But as Rose glanced up from her box now,

And then she caught glimpses of him,

Striding by,

Wearing a bamboo chair,

A pair of ancient andirons,

A queer Japanese green,

And finally a large bathing-pan upon his head.

What a curious room it will be,

She said,

As she sat resting and refreshing herself with lumps of delight all the way from Cairo.

I fancy you will like it,

Dearie,

Answered aunt Peace,

Looking up with a smile from some pretty trifle she was making with blue silk and white muslin.

Rose did not see the smile for just at that moment.

Her uncle paused at the door,

And she sprang up to the dance before him,

Saying with a face full of childish happiness,

Look at me,

Look at me,

I am splendid.

I don't know myself,

I haven't put these things on right,

I dare say,

But I do like them so much.

You look as gay as a parrot in your vase and cappaccio,

And it does my heart good to see The little black shadow turned into a rainbow,

Said uncle Alec,

Surveying the bright figure before him with great approbation.

He did not say it,

But he thought she made a much prettier picture than Phoebe at the wash-tub,

For she had stuck a purple vase on her blonde hair,

Tied several brilliant scarves about her waist,

And put on a truly gorgeous scarlet jacket with a golden sun embroidered on the back,

A silver moon on the front,

And stars of all sizes on the sleeves.

A pair of Turkish slippers adorned her feet,

And necklaces of amber,

Coral,

And filigree hung about her neck,

While one hand held a smelling bottle,

And the other the spicy box of oriental sweetmeats.

I feel like a girl in the Arabian Nights,

And expect to find a magic carpet or a wonderful talisman somewhere.

Only I don't see how I can ever thank you for all these lovely things,

She said,

Stopping her dance as if suddenly oppressed with gratitude.

I will tell you how by leaving off the black clothes that never should have been kept so long on such a child,

And wearing the gay ones I brought.

It will do your spirits good,

And cheer up this sober old house,

Won't it,

Auntie?

I think you are right,

Alec,

And it is fortunate that we have not begun on her spring clothes yet,

For Myra thought she ought not to wear anything brighter than violet,

And she is too pale for that.

You just let me direct Miss Hemming how to make some of these things.

You will be surprised to see how much I know about piping hems,

And gathering armholes and shearing vases,

Began Dr.

Alec,

Patting a pile of muslin,

Cloth and silk with a glowing air.

Aunt Peace and Rose laughed,

So that he could not display his knowledge any further,

Till they stopped,

When he said,

Good-naturedly,

That will go a great way toward filling out the belt.

So laugh away,

Morgiana,

And I'll go back to my work,

Or I never shall be done.

I couldn't help it.

Shirt biases were so very funny,

Rose said,

As she turned to her box after the splendid laugh.

But really,

Auntie,

She added soberly,

I feel as if I ought not to have so many nice things.

I suppose it wouldn't do to give Phoebe some of them.

Uncle might not like it.

He would not mind.

But they are not suitable for Phoebe.

Some of the dresses you are done with would be more useful if they can be made over to fit her,

Answered aunt Peace in the prudent,

Moderate tone which is so trying to our feelings when we indulge in little fits of charitable enthusiasm.

I would rather give her new ones,

For I think she is a little bit proud,

And might not like old things.

If she was my sister,

It would do,

Because sisters don't mind.

But she isn't,

And that makes it bad,

You see.

I know how.

I can manage beautifully.

I will adopt her.

And Rose looked quite radiant with this idea.

I am afraid you could not do it legally until you are older,

But you might see if she likes the plan,

And at any rate you can be very kind to her.

For in one senses we are all sisters,

And should help one another.

The sweet old face looked at her so kindly that Rose was fired with the desire to settle the matter at once,

And rushed away to the kitchen just as she was.

Phoebe was there,

Polishing up the antique andirans so busily that she startled when a voice cried out,

Smell that,

Taste this,

And look at me,

Phoebe's stiffed attire of rose,

Quenched the lump of delight tucked into her mouth,

And stared with all her eyes at little Morgana,

Prancing about the room like a brilliant parroquette.

My stars ain't you splendid,

Was all she could say,

Holding up two dusty hands.

I've got heaps of lovely things upstairs,

And I will show them all to you,

And I'd go halves,

Only auntie thinks they wouldn't be useful,

So I shall give you something else,

And you won't mind,

Will you?

Cause I want to adopt you as Arabella was in the story,

Wouldn't that be nice?

Why Miss Rose,

Have you lost your wits?

No wonder Phoebe asked,

For Rose talked very fast and looked so odd in her new costume,

And was so eager she could not stop to explain.

Seeing Phoebe's bewilderment,

She quieted down,

And said with a pretty air of earnestness,

It isn't fair that I should have so much and you so little,

And I want to be as good to you as if you were my sister,

For auntie says we are all sisters really.

I thought if I adopted you as much as I can now,

It would be nicer,

Will you let me please?

To Rose's great surprise,

Phoebe sat down on the floor and hid her face in her apron for a minute without answering a word.

Oh dear,

Now she is offended,

And I don't know what to do,

Thought Rose much discouraged by this reception of her offer.

Please forgive me,

I didn't mean to hurt your feelings,

And I hope you won't think.

She faltered presently,

Feeling that she must undo the midship if possible.

But Phoebe gave her another surprise by dropping the apron showing her face all smiles in spite of tears in her eyes,

As she put both arms around Rose and said with a laugh and a sob,

I think you are the dearest girl in the world,

And I'll let you do anything you like with me.

Then you do like the plan,

You didn't cry because I seemed to be kind of patronizing,

I truly didn't mean to be,

Cried Rose delighted.

I guess I do like it,

And cried because no one was ever so good to me before,

And I couldn't help it.

As for patronizing,

You may walk on me if you want to,

And I won't mind,

Said Phoebe in a burst of gratitude for the words.

We are sisters,

Went straight to her loning heart and nestled there.

Well now we can play,

I'm good right out of the box,

Or what is better,

A fairy godmother.

Come down the chimney and you are Cinderella,

And must say what you want,

Said Rose trying to put the question delicately.

Phoebe understood that,

For she had a good deal of natural refinement,

Though she did come from the poorhouse.

I don't feel as if I wanted anything now,

Miss Rose,

But to find some way of thanking you for all you have done,

She said rubbing off a tear that went rolling down the bridge of her nose,

In the most aromantic way.

Why,

I haven't done anything but given you a bit of candy.

Here,

Have some more,

And eat them while you work,

And think what I can do.

I must go and clear up,

So good-bye,

And don't forget I have adopted you.

You have given me sweeter than candy,

And I'm not likely to forget it.

And carefully wiping off the brick dust,

Phoebe pressed the little hand Rose offered warmly in the import of her hard ones,

While the black eyes followed the departing visitor with a grateful look that made them very soft and bright.