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174 pages

English

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Part of Amanda Douglas' delightful Little Girl series of juvenile chapter books, this volume has young protagonist Laverne escaping privation and hardship in New England to find happiness in what the author calls the Queen City of the Western Coast. It is sure to be a hit with young readers who have an interest in American history.

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Children's

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Publié par	The Floating Press
Date de parution	01 mai 2014
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781776536351
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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A LITTLE GIRL IN OLD SAN FRANCISCO
* * *
AMANDA MINNIE DOUGLAS

*
A Little Girl in Old San Francisco First published in 1905 Epub ISBN 978-1-77653-635-1 Also available: PDF ISBN 978-1-77653-636-8 © 2013 The Floating Press and its licensors. All rights reserved. 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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Chapter I - From Maine to California Chapter II - Old San Francisco Chapter III - Making a New Home Chapter IV - A Queer Winter Chapter V - Pelajo Chapter VI - A Different Outlook Chapter VII - A Taste of Gayety Chapter VIII - Girls and Girls Chapter IX - A Party and an Admirer Chapter X - Ethics and Etiquette Chapter XI - In the Sunshine of Youth Chapter XII - New Experiences Chapter XIII - Balder the Beautiful Chapter XIV - A Wedding and a Parting Chapter XV - The Enchantment of Youth Chapter XVI - In the Balance Chapter XVII - The Decision of Fate Chapter XVIII - To See You Once Again Chapter XIX - The Guiding Finger Chapter XX - An Enchanted Journey
*
To
MARTHA REDINGTON
To you who have enjoyed the charms and wonders of the newer city, the old and remarkable may have a charm. Half a century is not much in which to rear the Queen City of the Western Coast.
With a friend's regard, The Author.
Chapter I - From Maine to California
*
It was a long journey for a little girl, so long indeed that the oldlife had almost faded from her mind, and seemed like something done inanother existence. When she was younger still she had once surprisedher mother by saying, "Mother, where did I live before I came here?"The pale, care-worn woman had glanced at her in vague surprise andanswered rather fretfully, "Why, nowhere, child."
"Oh, but I remember things," said the little girl with a confidentair, looking out of eyes that seemed to take an added shade from herpresent emotions.
"Nonsense! You can't remember things that never happened. That'simagining them, and it isn't true. If you told them they would befalsehoods. There, go out and get me a basket of chips."
She was afraid of telling falsehoods, most of those rigid peoplecalled them by their plain name, "lies," and whipped their children.So the little girl kept them to herself; she was a very good andupright child as a general thing and knew very little about her trickyfather. But she went on imagining. Especially when she studiedgeography, which she was extravagantly fond of, yet she could neverquite decide which country she had lived in.
Through those months of journeying in the big vessel over strangewaters, for she had been born in an inland hamlet with a great woodsof hemlock, spruce, and fir behind the little cottage, and two orthree small creeks wandering about, she had many strange thoughts.Though at first she was quite ill, but Uncle Jason was the best nursein the world, and presently she began to run about and get acquainted.There were only a few women passengers. One middle-aged, with a sonsixteen, who was working his way; a few wives emigrating with theirhusbands, three women friends who were in the hope of finding aneasier life and perhaps husbands, though they hardly admitted that toeach other.
She often sat in Uncle Jason's lap, hugged up to his breast. Ofcourse, her mother had been his sister, they had settled upon that,and he did not contradict. She was lulled by the motion of the vesseland often fell asleep, but in her waking moments these were thememories that were growing more vague and getting tangled up withvarious things.
Her father had taught school at South Berwick the winter she couldrecall most readily, and came home on Saturday morning, spending mostof the time at the store. Woodville was only a sort of hamlet, thoughit had a church, a school, and a general store. Sometimes he would goback on Sunday, but oftener early Monday morning. Then late in thesummer he was home for a while, and went away after talks with hermother that did not always seem pleasant. He took very little noticeof her, in her secret heart she felt afraid of him, though he wasseldom really cross to her. And then he went away and did not appearagain until the winter, when there seemed a great deal of talking andbusiness, and he brought a boxful of clothes for them, and seemed inexcellent spirits. He was in business in Boston, and would move themall there at once, if grandmother would consent, but she was old, andhad had a stroke, and could not get about without a cane. The oldhouse was hers and she would finish out her days there. Of course,then, her mother could not go. She had a new, warm woollen frock and acloak that was the envy of the other children, and absolute city shoesthat she could only wear on Sunday, and, of course, were presentlyoutgrown.
She studied up everything she could concerning Boston, but her motherwould not talk about it. In the summer, grandmother had another strokeand then was bedridden. It was a poor little village, and everybodyhad hard work to live, summers were especially busy, and winters werelong and hard. Grandmother was fretful, and wandered a little in hermind. Now and then a neighbor came in to spell Mrs. Westbury, andthere was always some mysterious talking that her mother did not carefor her to hear. Grandmother lived more than a year and was a helplessburden at the last. After she had gone the poor mother sank down,overwhelmed with trouble. David Westbury had persuaded the old lady tosign over the house for a business venture he was to make in Bostonthat would put him on the road to fortune. And now it was found thathe had decamped, that there had been no business but speculating, andshe no longer had a home for herself and her child.
They were very poor. People bore straits bravely in those days andsuffered in silence. The poor mother grew paler and thinner and had ahard cough. In the spring they would be homeless. By spring she wouldbe—and what would happen to the child! A little bound-out girl,perhaps.
Laverne was not taken into these sorrowful confidences. She did not goto school, her mother needed to be waited upon. One bright afternoonshe went out to skate on the creek. The school children joined her,and it was almost dark when they started for home. The little girl'sheart upbraided her, but she had carried in the last armful of wood,and had not told her mother. What would they do to-morrow!
She went in hesitatingly. Oh, how good and warm the room felt and twocandles were burning. A man sat beside the stove with a sort of frank,bright, yet weather-beaten face, a mop of chestnut-colored hair, abeard growing up to his very mouth, but with the brightest blue eyesshe had ever seen, merry blue eyes, too, that looked as if there wasjust a twinkle back of the lashes.
"This is my little girl, Laverne," said her mother. "We have alwayscalled her Verne, seeing there were three of the same name. And thisis"—the mother's tone had a curious tremble in it, as if she caughther breath—"this is Uncle Jason."
The first glance made them friends. They both smiled. She was like hermother in the young days, and had the same dimple in her cheek, andthe one in her chin where the children used to hold a buttercup. Sheput out both hands. They had been so lonely, so poor, and she wasglad all over with a strange feeling, just as if they had come tobetter times.
What a supper they had! She was very hungry. She had been quite usedto eating bread and molasses, or a little moist brown sugar. And herewas a great chunk of butter on the edge of her plate, and the room wasfragrant with the smell of broiled ham.
If she had known anything about fairies she would have believed inenchantment at once. And there was part of a splendid cake, and orangejam, and she could hardly make it real. No neighbor had known alltheir straits, and the little girl had borne them as bravely as hermother. Then, so many people had pinches in the winter, for crops wereoften poor.
She helped her mother with the dishes and then she sat down on a stoolbeside Uncle Jason. Presently, her head sank on his knee and she wentfast asleep. She never heard a word of what her mother and Uncle Jasonwere saying.
At nine o'clock he carried her into the bedroom and laid her on thebed, and she never woke up while her mother undressed her. He wentover to the store where he had bargained for a room. The storekeeper,Mr. Lane, had been as much surprised to see Mr. Chadsey as Mrs.Westbury. He had been born in the old town and his romance hadblossomed and blighted here.
"Now, I tell you," Seth Lane said to his wife, when the store was shutand they were preparing for bed, "if that scalawag Westbury was deadthere'd be a weddin' in this town straight away. My, how Chadsey wascut up over hearin' his mean villainy an' gettin' hold of the house!I never b'lieved the old woman knew what she was about. And Chadsey'scome back in the nick o' time, for I don't b'lieve she'll go throughMarch."
Jason Chadsey planned for their comfort, and went to Boston the nextday, but could find no trace of David Westbury, dead or alive.
As for the little girl, when she woke up in the morning she thoughtshe had had the loveliest dream that could ever haunt one. But whenshe saw the bountiful breakfast she was amazed to the last degree.
"Was Uncle Jason really here?" she asked timidly. She was quite sureher mother had been crying.
"Yes, dear. He has gone to Boston and will be back in a few days. Oh,Laverne, I hope you will learn to love him. Some day, when you areolder, you will understand why he came back, and he will be