There was nothing in the Arnolds’ sitting-room that January morning to remind Berry of a schoolroom unless it was the little brass bell that stood on the table beside which Mr. Arnold sat. Berry was so much in advance of Mollie in the usual school lessons that her father realized it would be difficult to teach the two little girls at the same time. The slate Berry had used in the village school in Vermont, and a box of slate pencils lay on the table, and a large atlas, opened at a good-sized map of the United States, was spread out beside it. While Mr. Arnold intended that Berry should have a proper knowledge of grammar and mathematics, he felt that she should understand something of the government under which she lived; and this morning he called the girls to look at the map of the United States, thinking it a good plan for both the girls to learn the names and location of the various states of the union.
51
“Where’s Shiloh?” questioned Mollie, gazing wonderingly at the brightly colored spaces on the map which Mr. Arnold pointed out as the different states of the union.
“Poor little Shiloh isn’t even a village, Mollie; it is only the name of a log church on a mountain ridge in Tennessee,” he responded. But before the year 1862 ended Shiloh was known all through the country as the name of the place of one of the most terrific battles of the Civil War and had become an historic spot.
“Here is Tennessee,” continued Mr. Arnold; “and this blue line is the Tennessee River. Along here,” and with a pencil he pointed out the course of the broad stream, “it sweeps for many miles along the boundary line of Alabama, then turns northerly, in this great curve, and flows past Fort Henry, and pours its waters into the Ohio River. Right here is Pittsburg Landing.”
Both the little girls exclaimed at this familiar name; for Pittsburg Landing was not many miles distant, and was the point where the river steamers landed freight for Corinth, eighteen miles distant.
Before the morning lesson hours were over52 Mollie had learned that Washington was the capital of the United States, where laws for the government of the union were made. That the terrible war between the Southern and Northern States, with Francis Arnold in the Northern army and Len Bragg with the Southern troops, meant that the South wished to “secede,” to leave the union, and form a new government. If the Northern armies won, the negroes would be freed, and the North and South remain a united nation. If the South conquered the North, slavery would continue, and there would be two separate governments.
“My Pa says the South will win,” Mollie announced. “He says they beat the Yankees at Bull Run,” she continued.
“Yes, the Southern troops are valiant fighters,” Mr. Arnold agreed; for he never forgot that the union had been formed by South and North alike, and he hoped earnestly for a peace that would again unite them in a firm and lasting friendship.
Then, while Berry was learning the rules of a lesson in algebra, Mollie happily began her first effort in writing. The slate and pencil seemed a wonderful thing to the little mountain girl, and53 she patiently endeavored to copy the lines and letters that Mr. Arnold traced for her.
The clock struck twelve, and Mr. Arnold again tinkled the small brass bell, and said smilingly, “Pupils are expected to be in the schoolroom at ten sharp to-morrow morning.” As he finished speaking the door into the kitchen opened and Mrs. Arnold said:
“This is Mollie’s birthday dinner party, so she must lead the way to the table.”
“O-ooh!” Mollie whispered softly to herself, a little flush creeping over her thin face as Berry gave her a gentle push toward the kitchen, where the round table was spread for four, and where Mollie’s chair held the newspaper bundle containing the doll.
Mollie Bragg always remembered her eleventh birthday; and she always treasured the cloth doll, the only one she ever owned, and which she at once named “Mrs. Arnold.” There were broiled partridge for dinner, that Mr. Arnold had shot in the ravine two days before; and baked potatoes; there were spiced pears, that Mrs. Arnold had put up the previous autumn; and crisp hot rolls and steaming chocolate, a great luxury. And then a marvelous thing happened.
54
When Mollie believed that the dinner was quite over, and was again holding “Mrs. Arnold,” and almost too happy to believe in so much good fortune, Mrs. Arnold went to the pantry and came back bringing a round white-frosted cake, on which stood eleven tiny pink lighted candles.
“O-o-ooh!” again murmured Mollie, as Mrs. Arnold set this wonderful creation in front of her little guest.
“Your birthday cake, Mollie! Wish! Wish for something splendid. Then try to blow all the candles out with one breath, like this,” and Berry puffed out her cheeks and blew so strongly that the little flames wavered. “If all the candle flames go out your wish will come true before your next birthday,” Berry concluded earnestly.
Mollie promptly obeyed Berry’s directions, with such good success that every tiny flame was extinguished.
“Goody! Goody! But you mustn’t tell your wish until next birthday,” cautioned Berry, running around the table and carefully removing the candles from the cake. They were the same candles that had been used on Berry’s own cake on her eleventh birthday in October, and they were55 now carefully put away. For who could tell when it would again be possible to purchase wax candles?
Then Mrs. Arnold helped Mollie cut the cake, and at the first taste Mollie smiled more radiantly than ever, but quickly put the piece back on her plate.
“Don’t you like it, Mollie?” Berry asked anxiously.
“It’s beautiful!” Mollie replied soberly; “but I’m goin’ ter take it home ter Ma. May I?” she added, a little doubtfully.
“The whole cake is yours, Mollie dear. But you must eat the first piece yourself,” Mrs. Arnold said quickly; “you are to take the remainder home.”
Mollie drew a long breath. “I reckon my Ma never tasted a birthday cake,” she said soberly.
After dinner was over and Mollie had seen Mrs. Arnold put the cake carefully into a small basket, which she told the little girl she was to carry home, Berry and Mollie went back to the sitting-room; and Berry brought out her own two fine dolls, which had heads of china with black curls painted on them, and were dressed in56 white muslin and wore sashes of blue silk. Berry had brought these dolls from Vermont, and one was named Josephine Maria, for Berry’s Grandmother Arnold, who had given the dolls to Berry, and the other was called Maria Josephine. “Then, you see, neither one can be the favorite,” Berry explained, as she set the dolls side by side in her father’s big chair. “Now let’s play it’s a real party; my dolls and your doll can be ‘real’ girls, and we’ll talk for them,” she continued.
Mollie nodded with smiling delight, and for an hour or more the two little friends and their dolls played happily. But as the clock struck three Mollie announced that she must start for home.
“It gets shadowy and kinder fearsome in the woods come late afternoon,” she said, “and my Pa says that niggers are runnin’ off every little while, and maybe are hid up in the woods; so I’d be skeered to go home late.”
“Don’t be afraid of any poor colored man or woman who might be coming over the ridge, Mollie,” said Mrs. Arnold gently.
“You mean niggers?” questioned the little girl; and then added quickly, “Oh, Mrs. Arnold! I never knew how grand it would be to be eleven years old, and have a birthday cake, and a doll,57 and a dress!” And she looked from one gift to another with so radiant a face that Mrs. Arnold felt well rewarded for her friendly efforts for her small neighbor’s happiness. Berry had slipped on her cap and coat and was ready to go part of the way home with Mollie. Just as they had started Mollie suddenly turned back, and running to Mrs. Arnold she looked up at her and said earnestly, “I been tryin’ to say ‘thank you.’ But ’tain’t enough to say, fer all you give me. ’Tain’t enuff jes’ ter say, ‘Thank you!’”
“Indeed it is enough, dear Mollie,” responded Mrs. Arnold, leaning down to kiss the little face now flushed with the joy of her happy birthday.
Mrs. Arnold stood in the doorway of the cabin and watched the two little girls until the forest shut them from view. The snow had all vanished, the winter sun still shone warmly above the tree-tops, and only the caws of a passing flock of crows disturbed the perfect quiet of the scene.