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176 pages

English

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If you loved Little Women, Louisa May Alcott's moving account of the upbringing of four sisters in nineteenth-century Massachusetts, don't miss Eight Cousins, a similarly stirring novel that follows the childhood and young adulthood of plucky protagonist Rose Campbell, the sole female child born to her extended family. Rose struggles to fit in with her seven male cousins, and learns a thing or two about genteel Boston Brahmin society along the way.

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Children's

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Publié par	The Floating Press
Date de parution	01 septembre 2010
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781775419129
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0134€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

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EIGHT COUSINS
* * *
LOUISA MAY ALCOTT

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Eight Cousins First published in 1875 ISBN 978-1-775419-12-9 © 2010 The Floating Press
While every effort has been used to ensure the accuracy and reliability of the information contained in The Floating Press edition of this book, The Floating Press does not assume liability or responsibility for any errors or omissions in this book. The Floating Press does not accept responsibility for loss suffered as a result of reliance upon the accuracy or currency of information contained in this book. Do not use while operating a motor vehicle or heavy equipment. Many suitcases look alike.
Visit www.thefloatingpress.com
Contents
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Preface Chapter 1 - Two Girls Chapter 2 - The Clan Chapter 3 - Uncles Chapter 4 - Aunts Chapter 5 - A Belt and a Box Chapter 6 - Uncle Alec's Room Chapter 7 - A Trip to China Chapter 8 - And What Came of It Chapter 9 - Phebe's Secret Chapter 10 - Rose's Sacrifice Chapter 11 - Poor Mac Chapter 12 - "The Other Fellows" Chapter 13 - Cosey Corner Chapter 14 - A Happy Birthday Chapter 15 - Ear-Rings Chapter 16 - Bread and Button-Holes Chapter 17 - Good Bargains Chapter 18 - Fashion and Physiology Chapter 19 - Brother Bones Chapter 20 - Under the Mistletoe Chapter 21 - A Scare Chapter 22 - Something to Do Chapter 23 - Peace-Making Chapter 24 - Which?
Preface
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The Author is quite aware of the defects of this little story, many ofwhich were unavoidable, as it first appeared serially. But, as UncleAlec's experiment was intended to amuse the young folks, rather thansuggest educational improvements for the consideration of the elders,she trusts that these shortcomings will be overlooked by the friends ofthe Eight Cousins, and she will try to make amends in a second volume,which shall attempt to show The Rose in Bloom.
L.M.A.
Chapter 1 - Two Girls
*
Rose sat all alone in the big best parlor, with her little handkerchieflaid ready to catch the first tear, for she was thinking of hertroubles, and a shower was expected. She had retired to this room as agood place in which to be miserable; for it was dark and still, full ofancient furniture, sombre curtains, and hung all around with portraitsof solemn old gentlemen in wigs, severe-nosed ladies in top-heavy caps,and staring children in little bob-tailed coats or short-waisted frocks.It was an excellent place for woe; and the fitful spring rain thatpattered on the window-pane seemed to sob, "Cry away: I'm with you."
Rose really did have some cause to be sad; for she had no mother, andhad lately lost her father also, which left her no home but this withher great-aunts. She had been with them only a week, and, though thedear old ladies had tried their best to make her happy, they had notsucceeded very well, for she was unlike any child they had ever seen,and they felt very much as if they had the care of a low-spiritedbutterfly.
They had given her the freedom of the house, and for a day or twoshe had amused herself roaming all over it, for it was a capital oldmansion, and was full of all manner of odd nooks, charming rooms, andmysterious passages. Windows broke out in unexpected places, littlebalconies overhung the garden most romantically, and there was a longupper hall full of curiosities from all parts of the world; for theCampbells had been sea-captains for generations.
Aunt Plenty had even allowed Rose to rummage in her great china closeta spicy retreat, rich in all the "goodies" that children love; but Roseseemed to care little for these toothsome temptations; and when thathope failed, Aunt Plenty gave up in despair.
Gentle Aunt Peace had tried all sorts of pretty needle-work, and planneda doll's wardrobe that would have won the heart of even an older child.But Rose took little interest in pink satin hats and tiny hose, thoughshe sewed dutifully till her aunt caught her wiping tears away with thetrain of a wedding-dress, and that discovery put an end to the sewingsociety.
Then both old ladies put their heads together and picked out the modelchild of the neighbourhood to come and play with their niece. ButAriadne Blish was the worst failure of all, for Rose could not bear thesight of her, and said she was so like a wax doll she longed to giveher a pinch and see if she would squeak. So prim little Ariadne was senthome, and the exhausted aunties left Rose to her own devices for a dayor two.
Bad weather and a cold kept her in-doors, and she spent most of her timein the library where her father's books were stored. Here she read agreat deal, cried a little, and dreamed many of the innocent brightdreams in which imaginative children find such comfort and delight. Thissuited her better than anything else, but it was not good for her, andshe grew pale, heavy-eyed and listless, though Aunt Plenty gave her ironenough to make a cooking-stove, and Aunt Peace petted her like a poodle.
Seeing this, the poor aunties racked their brains for a new amusementand determined to venture a bold stroke, though not very hopeful of itssuccess. They said nothing to Rose about their plan for this Saturdayafternoon, but let her alone till the time came for the grand surprise,little dreaming that the odd child would find pleasure for herself in amost unexpected quarter.
Before she had time to squeeze out a single tear a sound broke thestillness, making her prick up her ears. It was only the soft twitterof a bird, but it seemed to be a peculiarly gifted bird, for while shelistened the soft twitter changed to a lively whistle, then a trill, acoo, a chirp, and ended in a musical mixture of all the notes, as if thebird burst out laughing. Rose laughed also, and, forgetting her woes,jumped up, saying eagerly,
"It is a mocking-bird. Where is it?"
Running down the long hall, she peeped out at both doors, but sawnothing feathered except a draggle-tailed chicken under a burdock leaf.She listened again, and the sound seemed to be in the house. Away shewent, much excited by the chase, and following the changeful song, itled her to the china-closet door.
"In there? How funny!" she said. But when she entered, not a birdappeared except the everlastingly kissing swallows on the Canton chinathat lined the shelves. All of a sudden Rose's face brightened, and,softly opening the slide, she peered into the kitchen. But the musichad stopped, and all she saw was a girl in a blue apron scrubbing thehearth. Rose stared about her for a minute, and then asked abruptly,
"Did you hear that mocking-bird?"
"I should call it a phebe-bird," answered the girl, looking up with atwinkle in her black eyes.
"Where did it go?"
"It is here still."
"Where?"
"In my throat. Do you want to hear it?"
"Oh, yes! I'll come in." And Rose crept through the slide to the wideshelf on the other side, being too hurried and puzzled to go round bythe door.
The girl wiped her hands, crossed her feet on the little island ofcarpet where she was stranded in a sea of soap-suds, and then, sureenough, out of her slender throat came the swallow's twitter, therobin's whistle, the blue-jay's call, the thrush's song, the wood-dove'scoo, and many another familiar note, all ending as before with themusical ecstacy of a bobolink singing and swinging among the meadowgrass on a bright June day.
Rose was so astonished that she nearly fell off her perch, and when thelittle concert was over clapped her hands delightedly.
"Oh, it was lovely! Who taught you?"
"The birds," answered the girl, with a smile, as she fell to work again.
"It is very wonderful! I can sing, but nothing half so fine as that.What is your name, please?"
"Phebe Moore."
"I've heard of phebe-birds; but I don't believe the real ones could dothat," laughed Rose, adding, as she watched with interest the scatteringof dabs of soft soap over the bricks, "May I stay and see you work? Itis very lonely in the parlor."
"Yes, indeed, if you want to," answered Phebe, wringing out her cloth ina capable sort of way that impressed Rose very much.
"It must be fun to swash the water round and dig out the soap. I'd loveto do it, only aunt wouldn't like it, I suppose," said Rose, quite takenwith the new employment.
"You'd soon get tired, so you'd better keep tidy and look on."
"I suppose you help your mother a good deal?"
"I haven't got any folks."
"Why, where do you live, then?"
"I'm going to live here, I hope. Debby wants some one to help round, andI've come to try for a week."
"I hope you will stay, for it is very dull," said Rose, who had taken asudden fancy to this girl, who sung like a bird and worked like a woman.
"Hope I shall; for I'm fifteen now, and old enough to earn my ownliving. You have come to stay a spell, haven't you?" asked Phebe,looking up at her guest and wondering how life could be dull to a girlwho wore a silk frock, a daintily frilled apron, a pretty locket, andhad her hair tied up with a velvet snood.
"Yes, I shall stay till my uncle comes. He is my guardian now, and Idon't know what he will do with me. Have you a guardian?"
"My sakes, no! I was left on the poor-house steps a little mite ofa baby, and Miss Rogers took a liking to me, so I've been there eversince. But she is dead now, and I take care of myself."
"How interesting! It is like Arabella Montgomery in the 'Gypsy's Child.'Did you ever read that sweet story?" asked Rose, who was fond of talesof found-lings, and had read many.
"I don't have any books to read, and all the spare time I get I run offinto the woods; that rests me better than stories," answered Phebe, asshe finished one job and began on another.
Rose watched her as she got out a great pan of beans to look over, andwondered how it would seem to have life all work and no play. PresentlyPhebe seemed to think it was her turn to ask questions, and said,wistfully,
"You've had lots of schooling, I suppose?"
"Oh, dear me, yes! I've been at boarding school nearly a year, and I'malmost dead with lessons. The more I got, the more Miss Power gave me,and I was so