there are many miracles, only we become used to them in time, and forget their

marvel. we look calmly at the tiny chick pecking its way out of the egg, a

downy thing with bright black eyes and crowded full of lively motion where

only a short while ago there was no more than a yolk and a white with shell to

keep them together. we see a worm turn to a butterfly and go on unconcerned.

we see a baby begin to walk and to talk, and we behave as though that were to

be expected—and so it is, for we live in the midst of marvellous happenings,

as i began by saying.

and here were rose and ruth in the thick of the miracle of spring. only

yesterday there was nothing much to speak of. just a beginning, a hint, a mist

over the trees, a green tinge to the grass. to-day ... what a transformation.

blue-birds were twittering and flying, song-sparrows tuning up. the trees had

brought out leaves and tassels and sweet-smelling fringes. willows were

burning with yellow and rose, windflowers nodded, and marmie’s snowdrops and

crocuses were all abloom along the south wall of the house. there was a

delirious quality to the air, and bees hummed. one white butterfly teetered

over the yellowest crocus.

the girls were wild for the school hours to pass—marmie always taught them,

for there was no school within reach—so that they could be out in it all. and

marmie let them take their luncheon and ride over to the little lake with

their rods after trout.

“be home by sunset, dears,” she had said, “and have a good time. there are

many, many nice things in this old world, but being a child in spring is one

of the best.”

they had a wonderful day of it, and each of them had caught plenty of fish,

fine fellows that would make dandy eating for supper. lunch had been

delicious, and the spring day increasingly beautiful. now, in the warm, mild

afternoon, they felt delightfully lazy.

the ponies were cropping the grass, the fish were in the creel, and that was

hung up on the limb of a tree, where it reached the water. side by side the

sisters lay, their heads resting on their saddles, drinking in the lovely day

through every pore.

“winter’s really gone,” remarked rose, dreamily. “and what a splendid

winter it’s been, ruth.”

“yep. we haven’t been a bit lonely this year, just because of fairy

honeysqueak. she’s given us a lot of glorious experience, hasn’t she?”

“it’s some time since we’ve seen—i mean heard her. i wonder if she isn’t

coming any more, now that spring is here at last? i wish we could at least say

good-bye and thank you, don’t you?”

“then that’s just what you can do,” the silver-sounding voicelet spoke, the

clear and chiming voice they knew and loved so. “for i’m come, and i’m

going to take you one last trip for a sort of farewell, because i’m too busy

now that spring’s here to be able to play any more; and i daresay you’ll not

have any too much time on your hands yourselves.”

“oh, fairy honeysqueak, how sweet and kind of you to come once more. we shall

miss you awfully. i guess we are the two luckiest girls in the world to know

you. when it’s cold again and you have nothing to do, perhaps you’ll come

back. please.”

she laughed, and the sound was like the rocking of canterbury-bells atop of

their long stalks, if you could only hear them.

“it has been lots of fun for me too, and maybe i’ll see you next year,

though no one can tell about a fairy,” she answered. “anyway, here we are

now. and now for our last trip. how about going to quaker-town to see a small

maid called darthea penniston?”

“what larks! and shall we see hugh wynne too? and washington? and....”

“i’m sure i don’t know what you’ll see or not see; keep your eyes open,

that’s what they’re for. except that you must shut them now, and grab my

hands tight....”

so that’s what was done, and once more the two felt the singular sensation,

ending in a slight jar, which always accompanied their trips through the magic

gate.

they found themselves in a garden, very bright and pretty with many flowers

growing in beds bordered by little box hedges and separated by paths of red

brick. a sun-dial was in the centre of the garden, where the paths met, while

at the bottom of the garden ran a clear stream. willows bowed over this,

dipping the fine long ends of their slender branches in the water. a couple of

benches stood under these trees. on one of these sat a little girl in a rose-

pink gown, her hat hanging from her arm by long strings, a broad-brimmed

leghorn with roses round the brim. she seemed to be studying, for there was a

school book open on her knees.

rose and ruth were dressed in flowered muslin skirts, very full and reaching

to their boot tops, with pointed bodices of the same pretty stuff having lace

ruffles at the neck and elbow sleeves. over this they each wore a little

apron. their shoes were square-toed, with big bright buckles, and they had on

white stockings. little bonnets were tied under their chins.

demurely they walked down the sweet-smelling garden path toward the small,

dark-haired maid seated on the bench. she pored over her book, and seemed in

no special good spirits.

just as they were on the point of speaking she looked up. instantly a smile

flooded her face like sudden sunshine on a dark day.

up she jumped and was beside them in an instant.

“so you’ve really come! what good news this will be to hugh and jack, for i

have promised them if you came that we will go to hugh’s house after school;

his mother has told him to bring one or two or his school-mates to play in the

garden this afternoon. and they look forward to meeting you. but we must

hurry, we shall be late else, and there is no knowing what that hateful david

dove may not do in such a case.”

somewhat to their surprise rose and ruth found they had a few books strapped

together under their arms. evidently school it must be. so with darthea they

set off, through the gate that opened on a pretty street faced by neat houses,

with cosy porches vine-embowered. other children, singly and in groups, were

bound the same way with themselves. many of these were clad in sober grey,

with white kerchiefs worn fichu-wise on the girls, and broad-brimmed quaker

hats on the boys.

“how grown-up they look in those funny clothes,” ruth whispered to rose.

“not at all like children. and how gravely they go along.”

just here two boys, clad like those ruth was criticising, in full-skirted

coats and breeches reaching to the knee, with buckled shoes and wide-brimmed

hats, sober-hued as mice, came round the corner of another street. when they

saw darthea and her friends they hastened their steps, and presently bowed

before them gravely.

darthea looked at them shyly under her long black lashes, introducing rose and

ruth very prettily, however, in spite of her apparent confusion.

“this is hugh wynne, and his friend jack warner, rose and ruth. they are

coming with me to your mother’s after school,” she added, turning to the

boys.

“that is fine news,” answered hugh smiling. “and she will have good cakes

for us, and damson jam, and has promised to play at hide-and-find in the

orchard with us.”

“what a dear mother you have, hugh,” darthea replied. “she is like one of

us, yet so lovely a lady, too.”

hugh nodded, looking much pleased. by this time the five of them had reached

the school, a brick building rather plain and grim in appearance. the room

where they were to study was long and low, with a huge blackboard at the upper

end, near the master’s desk, and a globe by that. the master himself, a thin

man with a prominent nose on which rested a pair of horn-bowed spectacles, sat

waiting for the shuffling feet to be still 279and the children to be seated.

then he rose and began the afternoon exercises in a high, disagreeable voice.

rose and ruth looked about them, at the subdued rows of children, girls and

boys, bent over their slates and books. when the teacher addressed one of

these he or she stood up, put hands behind back, and answered in the best

manner possible. often they failed to please the master, however, whereupon he

sneered at them, calling them in front of him to his desk. once he made a boy

stand up beside his desk with a paper pinned foolscap fashion on his head, at

which the class giggled. but rose and ruth felt a helpless anger stir in them.

they forthwith hated david dove with a very real hatred.

suddenly his eye fell on ruth, and pointing a long finger at her, he asked her

something in an abrupt tone. confused, she did not catch his meaning.

“what did you say, sir?” she asked, her voice trembling a little.

“you know very well what i said,” returned the teacher, in a cold, slow way.

“answer me at once, or ’twill be the worse for you.”

ruth looked helplessly at rose, who flushed, fire leaping into her eyes.

“my sister is not a liar,” she said, addressing the teacher. “she told you

she didn’t hear what you asked her, and she didn’t. ask it again.”

there was a terrified hush over the school, and 280every eye turned to rose

and ruth. as for the teacher, he seemed stunned.

darthea jumped to her feet.

“these are friends of mine, sir,” she called out, though her voice shook

more than ruth’s had done. “they do not know the ways of this school yet,

and have only come this morning for trial.”

“ha,” exclaimed the teacher. “then, since they are no scholars of mine, and

cannot be punished for this insolence, you will please step up here, darthea,

and take a whipping for them.”

with tears, barely suppressed, darthea stepped into the aisle and began to

walk toward the desk. utterly astounded for a second, rose and ruth stood

motionless. then they rushed after her, and all three came to halt before the

master.

the two sisters were shaking with excitement and anger, so unjust and brutal

the whole thing seemed to them. looking up into the cold and sneering eyes of

mr. dove, rose spoke.

“do you mean to say you are going to hit her! a man, and ... and ... you

coward!”

for rose had never imagined such a thing as this.

and ruth said too, in a voice that was hoarse with emotion, “yes, you coward.

”

darthea looked from one to the other in amazement.

behind them there was a rustle all over the school. murmurs rose, and some of

the boys, including hugh and jack, stood up. the master 281faced the crowd of

children for an instant, his eyes glittering.

“i will take this to your parents,” he said presently, looking icily around

the room. motioning to the girls, he added, “sit down.”

silently they returned to their places, though their hearts beat hard for some

time. the hour dragged along, and at last the master rose, dismissing the

school. in a moment every one was outside, crowding round the newcomers.

“you’ll catch it yet,” they said. “wait till he’s had time to think over

what to do.”

“come along,” said darthea. hugh and jack had quickly joined them, and off

they went to hugh’s big, comfortable house in the midst of its orchards and

gardens. at the garden gate they were met by mrs. wynne, lovely in her quaker

dress, her eyes as blue as lakes, and a smile on the merriest mouth in the

world.

“so here you are, the little friends of this boy of mine,” she cried. “and

i have a bite or two of good things out in the garden for you. how went it at

school to-day?”

they all told her at once, and she was much interested. “brave words,” she

said, “and brave behaviour too. and now let us forget all about this unkind

dove, who has the heart of a hawk, methinks.”

as they went into the garden, where under a sort of summer-house was set a

table looking most hospitably loaded, she told them that hugh’s 282father was

at a friend’s house talking over the troubles between the colonies and

england.

“colonel washington and his lady are in town, up from virginia on a visit,

and the colonel is pressing for some decisive action, so i heard your father

say, hugh. naturally he is not too pleased at this, being a man of peace.”

“george washington near here!” it was rose who ejaculated these words, while

ruth stood rooted, her eyes fairly bulging.

“yes,” returned mrs. wynne, calmly, and turning to hugh, “your father

thinks him a dangerous man, my son.”

“but, but, can we see him?” stuttered rose.

hugh’s mother laughed. “are you so fond of the soldiers, rose? but ’tis

long since the colonel served. he is a married man now, very much settled and

with a big estate to take care of in virginia. of course you shall see him, if

you wish to. the meeting will be over in half an hour, and he and his friends

will pass here on the way to take a boat down the river.”

“it isn’t only that we love soldiers, it’s because, because....” rose

couldn’t remember just why it was so important to see washington, though she

felt her heart thumping at the thought, and saw in ruth’s eyes the same

puzzled excitement.

mrs. wynne turned to darthea.

“i hear thy mother is better, child, which is good news. and you make school

a far pleasanter place for hugh, for which i thank you. now come and help me

with the tea and cakes.”

“thank you, mistress wynne,” replied darthea, smiling shyly. “hugh and jack

and i have grown good friends at school, even though they be quakers and i of

christ church. may i fill these cups?” and very prettily she set about

helping the others to the refreshments, while mistress wynne cut the cakes and

served the preserves, luscious as can be imagined. rose and ruth and the two

boys fell to in high delight, presently joined by darthea. then came the

games, and none more joyous at these than hugh’s sweet mother herself. they

were all laughing and racing like wild things when ruth, hiding behind a clump

of rose of sharon, saw a group of gentlemen appearing down the street.

instantly she rushed across the lawn, calling out, “here comes washington,

here comes washington,” and waving her arms. rose was beside her in a moment,

and the rest came laughing, mrs. wynne greatly amused at the two girls’

excitement over the colonel.

“one would think him a hero to hear you two,” she declared. “but be quiet

or mr. wynne will not be pleased. softly now, we will walk down to the gate

and speak to the gentlemen.”

a demure little crowd they were, standing primly, hand in hand, the three

maids in front and mrs. wynne, with the boys either side of her, looking

uncommonly pretty, behind them. rose 284and ruth saw some four or five men,

two of unusual height, one of these in quaker clothes, the other in a blue

coat and cocked hat, with his hair in a queue ... the great washington beyond

a doubt!

as soon as they saw the lady the men removed their hats and bowed gravely,

while the tall quaker, frowning somewhat, asked what was wanted.

“these two maids were desirous of seeing you pass, colonel washington,” mrs.

wynne told the man in blue, who stood smiling. “they could only tell me

‘because’ when i wanted to know why they were so pressing, but so it was.”

rose and ruth blushed, but they looked hard at the wonderful washington,

nevertheless. how tall he was, how kindly the look in his eyes, and his faint

smile, as though his mind was busy with thoughts beyond the present moment,

touched them. they curtsied instinctively, and darthea did the same, flashing

a mischievous look upward as she dropped her bonny head.

the colonel laughed outright at the youngsters.

“why these maids should desire to see me is beyond my guessing, mistress

wynne,” he replied to the lady. “but after the somewhat grim consultation we

have been engaged in, i know it is a pleasure to look on them.”

every one bowed once more, and with another smile at the young girls,

washington turned to resume his way, bending once again to the speech 285of

mr. wynne. the other men had meanwhile strolled on ahead.

the boys and mrs. wynne turned back to the house, but rose, ruth and darthea

remained hanging over the gate, watching their hero depart. at the street

corner the group turned and disappeared. with a sigh the girls were about to

follow their hostess into the house, when rose noticed something lying on the

pavement just where the men had turned.

“they’ve dropped something ... see!” she said, pointing this out to the two

others.

“so they have!”

“let’s go after them....”

and through the gate they flew, down the street, and there rose picked up a

wallet, initialled g. w.

“it’s his!” her voice struck with awe.

already the men were out of sight. there stood the three girls, the wallet in

rose’s hands, all their eyes big with the wonder of it. what to do next?

“we must take it to him,” darthea said. “he may not miss it until he is on

board, and so too late.”

it certainly seemed the thing to do. with a backward glance at the house, but

in vain so far as seeing mrs. wynne or the boys went, the three set briskly

off down the street.

“you know the way, do you, darthea?” ruth panted, as they flew along.

“oh yes! it is not far. two turns, and then straight down to the river and

the dock where the ship lies. is this not fortunate? but how fast they have

gone.”

they reached the next corner just in time to see the colonel with mr. wynne

turn again out of sight. passers-by stared at them, for the streets of

philadelphia were unused to seeing three girls, bare-headed and panting,

hurrying frantically along.

“suppose we miss him, what will we do?” ruth gasped.

“we won’t,” rose returned. “look, there’s the river now.”

there was the flash of water, to be sure, and the street down which darthea

now led them stepped to its edge. at the foot of it there was a dock, busy

with all the stir of departing ships and arriving passengers. sailors were

rushing about, porters hoisting baggage, a crowd of men and boys jostled each

other, women and children too were to be seen.

grasping the wallet firmly, and closely pursued by ruth and darthea, rose

dodged in and out of the crowd to the gangway leading on board. there a

soldier was stationed, and as the three came running up, looking everywhere

for colonel washington or the men of his party, he halted them.

“are you sailing by this ship?” he wanted to know, looking doubtfully at

their hatless state.

“no, but we have something of colonel washington’s which he let fall on the

way here,” said 287rose. “let us in quickly, so that we can find him before

the ship sails.”

the man hesitated. “colonel who? i know him not. what game are you playing?”

he looked stupid and sullen, and the girls drew back dismayed. just then mr.

wynne appeared on deck, coming toward the gangway.

rose flourished the wallet at him. “make this man let us through,” she

cried. “colonel washington dropped this beyond your gate, and we’ve brought

it.”

the quaker looked at them severely, but motioned the soldier to allow them to

pass.

“it is not meet for you to come like this,” he said sternly, looking at them

gravely as they came timidly up to him. “where was hugh that he could not

have fetched the packet hither?”

“they had gone into the house, and i happened to see it as you all turned the

corner,” explained rose. “please, may i give it to the colonel?” and she

clutched the wallet tightly to her breast.

“nonsense. give it to me,” said mr. wynne.

rose stood uncertainly, and darthea gave her a look of encouragement, just a

flash, but it heartened her.

“i want to give it, please, myself,” she repeated.

mr. wynne looked surprised, but before he could say anything ruth saw the

colonel, talking with two of the men who had passed their gate, 288standing

just inside a door leading into the ship’s cabin. she slipped hastily up to

him.

“please, colonel washington,” she whispered, touching his sleeve, “my

sister has brought your wallet, which you dropped....”

washington clapped his hand to his breast, a look of consternation on his

face. “dropped ... good heavens, so i did,” he exclaimed. “what, your

sister you say?” he added, looking down at ruth’s flushed face.

“yes,” and catching his hand, she drew him toward the group, where rose and

darthea faced mr. wynne.

as the two approached, the colonel stepping eagerly forward, rose saw him, and

ran to meet him, holding up the precious find.

“thank you, a thousand thanks,” he said, in his deep voice, as he took the

thing from her hand. “did you three race hither with this for me? it was a

sweet and thoughtful act, and i cannot tell you how much i am under obligation

to you. even the temporary loss of this wallet would mean more to me than i

care to think of.”

“but it’s wonderful to do something for you,” returned rose, and her eyes

filled with tears.

“dear maid,” said the tall colonel, touched to the quick, “i hope your

kindness to me will not prove more than i deserve. you have done me no small

service. i wish i might requite it.” he held out both hands as he spoke,

smiling so winningly that without an instant’s hesitation rose put hers into

them and lifted her face to be kissed. then ruth and then darthea must have

one too, while they all laughed, even mr. wynne.

“foolish children,” he said. “you must forgive them, colonel. since

braddock’s day, you have been a hero, you know.”

the colonel shook his head.

“the maids have put me doubly in their debt,” he said. the soldier now

called out that the gangway was to be withdrawn, so mr. wynne drove them all

before him off the ship. on the dock they stood waving as the ship drew away,

watching that tall figure in blue as he returned the salute. waving farewell

till the quaker bade them follow him home, and be sensible.

they turned back to the town as the last streak of sunlight shone on the

sails, tingeing them with a pale salmony pink, and flushing the waves that

rippled by the prow. washington waved his handkerchief a last time, his white

head clear against the dark woodwork behind him. gulls swept the air above,

and a chantey rose upward as the sailors worked at the ropes. rose and ruth

felt their hearts swell to think they had served this man. hand in hand with

darthea they followed the tall quaker back through the streets, chatting of

the adventure they had had.

“why do you think so much of mr. washington?” darthea was asking, as they

reached the gate of her house, to which mr. wynne had taken them.

it was odd that rose and ruth could not quite remember what it was they knew

of him. surely he ... he....

“why, he was the father of his country,” exclaimed ruth, and at the same

instant rose actually shouted: “he is the first, the greatest, the man who

made us america.”

but where was darthea? where the bricked street, the green-bowered garden, the

stiff figure of the quaker moving off?

gone like a dream. and there instead was the placid lake, the cottonwoods, the

grazing ponies and the sun low in the western sky.

it was time to saddle and get home.

they rode back talking of it, and wondering why they hadn’t been able to tell

darthea about washington. but at last rose thought she understood.

“you see, where we were, it hadn’t happened yet,” she said. “the fairy

took us to the time before washington had beaten the english and made us a

nation, so of course we didn’t remember ... what hadn’t yet happened.”

“but i almost did,” ruth asserted.

“think of having been kissed by washington,” rose continued. “i guess

we’ll never forget that, anyhow.”

and they never did, though they never remembered at the right time to tell

marmie or dad or anybody else, except once when rose was talking in her sleep,

her mother heard her say something to the effect that she and ruth were the

only little girls in america washington had ever kissed. when she told rose

about it next morning, the little girl was confused.

“somehow i think he really did, marmie ... only i can’t explain,” she said.

but marmie only laughed, calling her a funny little dreamer.

in the summer that followed rose and ruth saw no more of the winter fairy who

had taken them on so many delightful excursions through the magic gate. often

they talked of her, and occasionally, just before falling asleep, they thought

they caught a faint sound of her voice, almost like moonbeams singing. but of

this they could not be quite sure. when they turned the pages of the books in

which lived the heroines she had taken them to see, it almost seemed to them

at times that she had left the key of that gate in their hands, and that the

story was real to them ... real as the house in which they lived, real as

themselves.

but when they told this to their mother she smiled, and said it was

imagination, and kissed them.