Chapter XI. Needles and Tongues

by Louisa May Alcott

　　Chapter XI. Needles and TonguesDear Polly, The Sewing Circle meets at our house this P. M.This is in your line, so do come and help me through. I shalldepend on you.Yours ever, FAN."Bad news, my dear?" asked Miss Mills, who had just handed thenote to Polly as she came in one noon, a few weeks after Jenny'sarrival.Polly told her what it was, adding, "I suppose I ought to go andhelp Fanny, but I can't say I want to. The girls talk about things Ihave nothing to do with, and I don't find their gossip very amusing.I'm an outsider, and they only accept me on Fan's account; so I sitin a corner and sew, while they chatter and laugh.""Would n't it be a good chance to say a word for Jenny? She wantswork, and these young ladies probably have quantities donesomewhere. Jenny does fine work exquisitely, and begins to feelanxious to be earning something. I don't want her to feel dependentand unhappy, and a little well-paid sewing would be all she needsto do nicely. I can get it for her by running round to my friends, butI really have n't the time, till I get the Mullers off. They arepaupers here, but out West they can take care of themselves, so I've begged the money to send them, and as soon as I can get themsome clothes, off they go. That's the way to help people helpthemselves," and Miss Mills clashed her big scissors energetically,as she cut out a little red flannel shirt."I know it is, and I want to help, but I don't know where to begin,"said Polly, feeling quite oppressed with the immensity of the work."We can't any of us do all we would like, but we can do our bestfor every case that comes to us, and that helps amazingly. Beginwith Jenny, my dear; tell those girls about her, and if I'm not muchmistaken, you will find them ready to help, for half the time it is n'thardness of heart, but ignorance or thoughtlessness on the part ofthe rich, that makes them seem so careless of the poor.""To tell the truth, I'm afraid of being laughed at, if I try to talkseriously about such things to the girls," said Polly, frankly."You believe that'such things' are true? You are sincere in yourwish to help better them, and you respect those who work for thatend?""Yes, I do.""Then, my dear, can't you bear a little ridicule for the sake of agood cause? You said yesterday that you were going to make it aprinciple of your life, to help up your sex as far and as fast as youcould. It did my heart good to hear you say it, for I was sure that intime you would keep your word. But, Polly, a principle that can'tbear being laughed at, frowned on, and cold-shouldered, is n'tworthy of the name.""I want to be strong-minded in the real sense of the word, but Idon't like to be called so by people who don't understand mymeaning; and I shall be if I try to make the girls think soberlyabout anything sensible or philanthropic. They call meold-fashioned now, and I'd rather be thought that, though it is n'tpleasant, than be set down as a rampant woman's rights reformer,"said Polly, in whose memory many laughs, and snubs, andsarcasms still lingered, forgiven but not forgotten."This love and thought and care for those weaker, poorer, or worsethan ourselves, which we call Christian charity, is a very oldfashion, my dear. It began eighteen hundred years ago, and onlythose who honestly follow the beautiful example set us then, learnhow to get genuine happiness out of life. I'm not a'rampantwoman's rights reformer,'" added Miss Mills, with a smile atPolly's sober face; "but I think that women can do a great deal foreach other, if they will only stop fearing what'people will think,'and take a hearty interest in whatever is going to fit their sistersand themselves to deserve and enjoy the rights God gave them.There are so many ways in which this can be done, that I wonderthey don't see and improve them. I don't ask you to go and makespeeches, only a few have the gift for that, but I do want every girland woman to feel this duty, and make any little sacrifice of timeor feeling that may be asked of them, because there is so much todo, and no one can do it as well as ourselves, if we only think so.""I'll try!" said Polly, influenced more by her desire to keep MissMills' good opinion than any love of self-sacrifice for her sex. Itwas rather a hard thing to ask of a shy, sensitive girl, and the kindold lady knew it, for in spite of the gray hair and withered face, herheart was very young, and her own girlish trials not forgotten. Butshe knew also that Polly had more influence over others than sheherself suspected, simply because of her candid, upright nature;and that while she tried to help others, she was serving herself in away that would improve heart and soul more than any mere socialsuccess she might gain by following the rules of fashionable life,which drill the character out of girls till they are as much alike aspins in a paper, and have about as much true sense and sentimentin their little heads. There was good stuff in Polly, unspoiled asyet, and Miss Mills was only acting out her principle of womenhelping each other. The wise old lady saw that Polly had reachedthat point where the girl suddenly blooms into a woman, askingsomething more substantial than pleasure to satisfy the newaspirations that are born; a time as precious and important to theafter-life, as the hour when the apple blossoms fall, and the youngfruit waits for the elements to ripen or destroy the harvest.Polly did not know this, and was fortunate in possessing a friendwho knew what influences would serve her best, and who couldgive her what all women should desire to give each other, theexample of a sweet, good life, more eloquent and powerful thanany words; for this is a right no one can deny us.Polly turned the matter over in her mind as she dressed, whileJenny played waiting maid, little dreaming what this new friendwas meaning to do for her, if she dared."Is it going to be a tea-party, Miss?" asked Jenny, as the black silkwent rustling on, to her great admiration, for she considered Pollya beauty."Well, no, I think it will probably be a lecture," answered Polly,laughing, for Jenny's grateful service and affectionate eyesconfirmed the purpose which Miss Mills' little homily hadsuggested.As she entered the Shaws' parlor an hour or two later, an appallingarray of well-dressed girls appeared, each provided with a daintyreticule, basket, or bag, and each tongue going a good deal fasterthan the needle, while the white fingers stitched sleeves in upsidedown, put flannel jackets together hind part before, or gobbledbutton-holes with the best intentions in life."You are a dear to come so early. Here's a nice place for youbetween Belle and Miss Perkins, and here's a sweet little dress tomake, unless you like something else better," said Fanny, receivingher friend with warmth and placing her where she thought shewould enjoy herself."Thank you, I'll take an unbleached cotton shirt if you have such athing, for it is likely to be needed before a cambric frock," repliedPolly, subsiding into her comer as quickly as possible, for at leastsix eye-glasses were up, and she did n't enjoy being stared at.Miss Perkins, a grave, cold-looking young lady, with anaristocratic nose, bowed politely, and then went on with her work,which displayed two diamond rings to great advantage. Belle,being of the demonstrative sort, smiled and nodded, drew up herchair, and began a whispered account of Trix's last quarrel withTom. Polly listened with interest while she sewed diligently,occasionally permitting her eyes to study the elegant intricacies ofMiss Perkins' dress, for that young lady sat like a statue, quirkingher delicate fingers, and accomplishing about two stitches aminute.In the midst of Belle's story, a more exciting bit of gossip caughther ear, and she plunged into the conversation going on across thetable, leaving Polly free to listen and admire the wit, wisdom, andcharitable spirit of the accomplished young ladies about her. Therewas a perfect Babel of tongues, but out of the confusion Pollygathered scraps of fashionable intelligence which somewhatlessened her respect for the dwellers in high places. One faircreature asserted that Joe Somebody took so much champagne atthe last German, that he had to be got away, and sent home withtwo servants. Another divulged the awful fact that Carrie P.'swedding presents were half of them hired for the occasion. A thirdcirculated a whisper to the effect that though Mrs. Buckminsterwore a thousand-dollar cloak, her boys were not allowed but onesheet to their beds. And a fourth young gossip assured thecompany that a certain person never had offered himself to acertain other person, though the report was industriously spread byinterested parties. This latter remark caused such a clamor thatFanny called the meeting to order in a most unparliamentaryfashion."Girls! girls! you really must talk less and sew more, or our societywill be disgraced. Do you know our branch sent in less work thanany of the others. last month, and Mrs. Fitz George said, she did n'tsee how fifteen young ladies could manage to do so little?""We don't talk a bit more than the old ladies do. I just wish youcould have heard them go on, last time. The way they get so muchdone, is, they take work home, and make their seamstresses do it,and then they take credit for vast industry," said Belle, who alwaysspoke her mind with charming candor."That reminds me that mamma says they want as many things aswe can make, for it's a hard winter, and the poor are suffering verymuch. Do any of you wish to take articles home, to do at oddtimes?" said Fan, who was president of this energetic DorcasSociety."Mercy, no! It takes all my leisure time to mend my gloves andrefresh my dresses," answered Belle."I think if we meet once a week, it is all that should be expected ofus, with our other engagements. Poor people always complain thatthe winter is a hard one, and never are satisfied," remarked MissPerkins, making her diamonds sparkle as she sewed buttons on thewrong side of a pink calico apron, which would hardly survive onewashing."Nobody can ask me to do any more, if they remember all I've gotto attend to before summer," said Trix, with an important air. "I'vegot three women hard at work, and want another, but everyone isso busy, and ask such abominable prices, that I'm in despair, andshall have to take hold myself, I'm afraid.""There's a chance for Jane," thought Polly, but had n't courage "tospeak out loud in meeting," just then, and resolved to ask Trix forwork, in private."Prices are high, but you forget how much more it costs to livenow than it used to do. Mamma never allows us to beat downworkwomen, but wishes us to pay them well, and economize insome other way, if we must," said Emma Davenport, a quiet,bright-eyed girl, who was called "odd " among the young ladies,because she dressed simply, when her father was a millionaire."Just hear that girl talk about economy! I beg your pardon, she'ssome relation of yours, I believe!" said Belle, in a low tone."Very distant; but I'm proud of it; for with her, economy does n'tmean scrimping in one place to make a show in another. If everyone would follow the Davenports' example, workwomen would n'tstarve, or servants be such a trouble. Emma is the plainest dressedgirl in the room, next to me, yet any one can see she is a truegentlewoman," said Polly, warmly."And you are another," answered Belle, who had always lovedPolly, in her scatter-brained way."Hush! Trix has the floor.""If they spent their wages properly, I should n't mind so much, butthey think they must be as fine as anybody, and dress so well that itis hard to tell mistress from maid. Why our cook got a bonnet justlike mine (the materials were cheaper, but the effect was thesame), and had the impertinence to wear it before my face. I forbidit, and she left, of course, which made papa so cross he would n'tgive me the camel's hair shawl he promised this year.""It's perfectly shameful!" said Miss Perkins, as Trix paused out ofbreath. "Servants ought to be made to dress like servants, as theydo abroad; then we should have no more trouble," observed MissPerkins, who had just made the grand tour, and had brought homea French maid."Perky don't practise as she preaches," whispered Belle to Polly, asMiss P. became absorbed in the chat of her other neighbors. "Shepays her chamber girl with old finery; and the other day, whenBetsey was out parading in her missis's cast-off purple plush suit,Mr. Curtis thought she was mademoiselle, and bowed to her. He isas blind as a bat, but recognized the dress, and pulled off his hat toit in the most elegant style. Perky adores him, and was mad enoughto beat Betsey when she told the story and giggled over it. Betseyis quite as stylish and ever so much prettier than Perky, and sheknows it, which is an aggravation."Polly could n't help laughing, but grew sober a minute after, asTrix said, pettishly, "Well, I'm sick of hearing about beggars; Ibelieve half of them are humbugs, and if we let them alone they'dgo to work and take care of themselves. There's altogether toomuch fuss made about charity. I do wish we could be left inpeace.""There can't be too much charity!" burst out Polly, forgetting hershyness all at once."Oh, indeed! Well, I take the liberty to differ from you," returnedTrix, putting up her glass, and bestowing upon Polly her most"toploftical stare," as the girls called it.I regret to say that Polly never could talk with or be near Trixwithout feeling irritated and combative. She tried to conquer thisfeeling, but she could n't, and when Trix put on airs, Polly felt anintense desire to box her ears. That eye-glass was her especialaversion, for Trix was no more near-sighted than herself, butpretended to be because it was the fashion, and at times used theinnocent glass as a weapon with which to put down any one whopresumed to set themselves up. The supercilious glance whichaccompanied her ironically polite speech roused Polly, whoanswered with sudden color and the kindling of the eyes thatalways betrayed a perturbed spirit, "I don't think many of us wouldenjoy that selfish sort of peace, while little children starve, andgirls no older than us kill themselves because their dreadfulpoverty leaves them no choice but sin or death."A sudden lull took place, for, though Polly, did not raise her voice,it was full of indignant emotion, and the most frivolous girl therefelt a little thrill of sympathy; for the most utterly fashionable lifedoes not kill the heart out of women, till years of selfish pleasurehave passed over their heads. Trix was ashamed of herself; but shefelt the same antagonism toward Polly, that Polly did toward her;and, being less generous, took satisfaction in plaguing her. Pollydid not know that the secret of this was the fact that Tom oftenheld her up as a model for his fianc,e to follow, which caused thatyoung lady to dislike her more than ever."Half the awful stories in the papers are made up for a sensation,and it's absurd to believe them, unless one likes to be harrowedup. I don't; and as for peace, I'm not likely to get much, while Ihave Tom to look after," said Trix, with an aggravating laugh.Polly's needle snapped in two, but she did not mind it, as she said,with a look that silenced even sharp-tongued Trix, "I can't helpbelieving what my own eyes and ears have seen and heard. Youlead such safe and happy lives, you can't imagine the misery that isall round you; but if you could get a glimpse of it, it would makeyour hearts ache, as it has mine.""Do you suffer from heartache? Some one hinted as much to me,but you looked so well, I could n't believe it."Now that was cruel in Trix, more cruel than any one guessed; butgirls' tongues can deal wounds as sharp and sudden as the slenderstiletto Spanish women wear in their hair, and Polly turned pale, asthose words stabbed her. Belle saw it, and rushed to the rescuewith more good-will than wisdom."Nobody ever accused you of having any heart to ache with. Pollyand I are not old enough yet to get tough and cool, and we are stillsilly enough to pity unhappy people, Tom Shaw especially," addedBelle, under her breath.That was a two-edged thrust, for Trix was decidedly an old girl,and Tom was generally regarded as a hapless victim. Trix turnedred; but before she could load and fire again, Emma Davenport,who labored under the delusion that this sort of skirmishing wasill-natured, and therefore ill-bred, spoke up in her pleasant way,"Speaking of pitying the poor, I always wonder why it is that weall like to read and cry over their troubles in books, but when wehave the real thing before us, we think it is uninteresting anddisagreeable.""It's the genius that gets into the books, which makes us like thepoverty, I fancy. But I don't quite agree that the real thing is n'tinteresting. I think it would be, if we knew how to look at and feelit," said Polly, very quietly, as she pushed her chair out of thearctic circle of Miss Perkins, into the temperate one of friendlyEmma."But how shall we learn that? I don't see what we girls can do,more than we do now. We have n't much money for such things,should n't know how to use it if we had; and it is n't proper for usto go poking into dirty places, to hunt up the needy.'Going aboutdoing good, in pony phaetons,' as somebody says, may succeed inEngland, but it won't work here," said Fanny, who had begun,lately, to think a good deal of some one beside herself, and sofound her interest in her fellow-beings increasing daily."We can't do much, perhaps, just yet; but still there are things leftundone that naturally fall to us. I know a house," said Polly,sewing busily as she talked, "where every servant who enters itbecomes an object of interest to the mistress and her daughters.These women are taught good habits, books are put where they canget them, sensible amusements are planned for them sometimes,and they soon feel that they are not considered mere scrubs, to doas much work as possible, for as little money as possible, buthelpers in the family, who are loved and respected in proportion totheir faithfulness. This lady feels her duty to them, owns it, anddoes it, as conscientiously as she wants them to do theirs by her;and that is the way it ought to be, I think."As Polly paused, several keen eyes discovered that Emma's cheekswere very red, and saw a smile lurking in the corners of the mouththat tried to look demure, which told them who Polly meant."Do the Biddies all turn out saints in that well regulated family?"asked the irrepressible Trix."No; few of us do that, even in the parlor; but every one of theBiddies is better for being there, whether they are grateful or not. Iought not to have mentioned this, perhaps, but I wanted to showyou one thing that we girls can do. We all complain about badservants, most as much as if we were house-keepers ourselves; butit never occurs to us to try and mend the matter, by getting up abetter spirit between mistress and maid. Then there's another thingwe can do," added Polly, warming up. "Most of us find moneyenough for our little vanities and pleasures, but feel dreadfullypoor when we come to pay for work, sewing especially. Could n'twe give up a few of the vanities, and pay the seamstresses better?""I declare I will!" cried Belle, whose conscience suddenly woke,and smote her for beating down the woman who did her plainsewing, in order that she might have an extra flounce on a newdress. "Belle has got a virtuous fit; pity it won't last a week," saidTrix."Wait and see," retorted Belle, resolving that it should last, just todisappoint "that spiteful minx;" as she sweetly called her oldschool-mate."Now we shall behold Belle galloping away at a great pace, on hernew hobby. I should n't be surprised to hear of her preaching in thejail, adopting a nice dirty little orphan, or passing round tracts at aWoman's Rights meeting," said Trix, who never could forgiveBelle for having a lovely complexion, and so much hair of her ownthat she never patronized either rats, mice, waterfalls, switches, orpuff-combs."Well, I might do worse; and I think, of the two, I'd rather amusemyself so, than as some young ladies do, who get into the papersfor their pranks," returned Belle, with a moral air."Suppose we have a little recess, and rest while Polly plays to us.Will you, Polly? It will do us good; they all want to hear you, andbegged I'd ask.""Then I will, with pleasure"; and Polly went to the piano with suchobliging readiness, that several reproachful glances fell upon Trix,who did n't need her glass to see them.Polly was never too sad, perturbed, or lazy to sing, for it wasalmost as easy to her as breathing, and seemed the most naturaloutlet for her emotions. For a minute her hands wandered over thekeys, as if uncertain what to play; then, falling into a sad, sweetstrain, she sang "The Bridge of Sighs." Polly did n't know why shechose it, but the instinct seemed to have been a true one, for, old asthe song was, it went straight to the hearts of the hearers, and Pollysung it better than she ever had before, for now the memory oflittle Jane lent it a tender pathos which no art could give. It didthem all good, for music is a beautiful magician, and few can resistits power. The girls were touched by the appeal; Polly was liftedout of herself, and when she turned round, the softened look on allthe faces told her that for the moment foolish differences andfrivolous beliefs were forgotten in the one womanly sentiment ofpity for the wrongs and woes of which the listeners' happy liveswere ignorant."That song always makes me cry, and feel as if I had no right to beso comfortable," said Belle, openly wiping her eyes on a crashtowel."Fortunately such cases are very rare," said another young lady,who seldom read the newspapers."I wish they were, but I'm afraid they are not; for only three weeksago, I saw a girl younger than any of us, and no worse, who tried todestroy herself simply because she was so discouraged, sick, andpoor," said Polly."Do tell about her," cried Belle, eagerly.Feeling that the song had paved the way for the story, and givenher courage to tell it, Polly did tell it, and must have done it well,for the girls stopped work to listen, and when she ended, other eyesbeside warm-hearted Belle's were wet. Trix looked quite subdued;Miss Perkins thawed to such a degree, that something glittered onher hand as she bent over the pink pinafore again, better andbrighter than her biggest diamond; Emma got up and went to Pollywith a face full of affectionate respect, while Fanny, moved by asudden impulse, caught up a costly evres plate that stood on theetagere, and laying a five-dollar bill in it, passed it round, quotingPolly's words, "Girls, I know you'll like to help poor little Jenny'begin again, and do better this time.' "It was good to see how quickly the pretty purses were out, howgenerously each gave of its abundance, and what hearty applausebroke from the girls, as Belle laid down her gold thimble, sayingwith an April face, "There, take that; I never have any money,somehow it won't stay with me, but I can't let the plate pass me thistime."When Fanny brought the contributions to Polly, she just gathered itup in her two hands with such a glad, grateful face, the girlswished they had had more to give."I can't thank you enough," she said, with an eloquent little chokein her voice. "This will help Jenny very much; but the way inwhich it was done will do her more good than double the money,because it will prove to her that she is n't without friends, andmake her feel that there is a place in the world for her. Let herwork for you in return for this; she don't ask alms, she only wantsemployment and a little kindness, and the best charity we canbestow is to see that she has both.""I'll give her as much sewing as she wants, and she can stay at ourhouse while she does it, if she needs a home," said Trix, in a spasmof benevolence."She does n't need a home, thank you; Miss Mills has given half ofhers, and considers Jane her child," answered Polly, with proudsatisfaction in the fact."What an old dear!" cried Belle."I want to know her. May I?" whispered Emma."Oh, yes; I'm glad to make her known to any one. She is a quietlittle old lady, but she does one heaps of good, and shows you howto be charitable in the wisest way.""Do tell us about it. I'm sure I want to do my duty, but it's such amuddle, I don't know how," said Belle.Then, quite naturally, the conversation fell upon the great workthat none should be too busy to think of, and which few are tooyoung or too poor to help on with their mite. The faces grew moreearnest, the fingers flew faster, as the quick young hearts andbrains took in the new facts, ideas, and plans that grew out of thetrue stories, the sensible hints, the successful efforts which Pollytold them, fresh from the lips of Miss Mills; for, of late, Polly hadtalked much with the good lady, and learned quickly the lessonsher unselfish life conveyed. The girls found this more interestingthan gossip, partly owing to its novelty, doubtless; but theenthusiasm was sincere while it lasted, and did them good. Manyof them forgot all about it in a week, but Polly's effort was not lost,for Emma, Belle, and Fanny remained firm friends to Jane, sokindly helping her that the poor child felt as if she had indeed beenborn again, into a new and happy world.Not till long afterward did Polly see how much good this littleeffort had done her, for the first small sacrifice of this sort leadsthe way to others, and a single hand's turn given heartily to theworld's great work helps one amazingly with one's own smalltasks. Polly found this out as her life slowly grew easier andbrighter, and the beautiful law of compensation gave her betterpurposes and pleasures than any she had lost. The parents of someof her pupils were persons of real refinement, and such are alwaysquick to perceive the marks of culture in others, no matter wherethey find them. These, attracted first by Polly's cheerful face,modest manners, and faithful work, soon found in her somethingmore than a good teacher; they found a real talent for music, aneager desire for helpful opportunities, and a heart grateful for thekindly sympathy that makes rough places smooth. Fortunatelythose who have the skill to detect these traits also possess the spiritto appreciate and often the power to serve and develop them. Inways so delicate that the most sensitive pride could not resent thefavor, these true gentlefolk showed Polly their respect and regard,put many pleasures in her way, and when they paid her for herwork, gave her also the hearty thanks that takes away all sense ofdegradation even from the humblest service, for money so earnedand paid sweetens the daily bread it buys, and makes the mutualobligation a mutual benefit and pleasure.A few such patrons did much for Polly, and the music she gavethem had an undertone of gratitude that left blithe echoes in thosegreat houses, which money could not buy.Then, as her butterfly acquaintances deserted her, she found herway into a hive of friendly bees, who welcomed her, and showedher how to find the honey that keeps life sweet and wholesome.Through Miss Mills, who was the counsellor and comforter ofseveral, Polly came to know a little sisterhood of busy, happy,independent girls, who each had a purpose to execute, a talent todevelop, an ambition to achieve, and brought to the work patienceand perseverance, hope and courage. Here Polly found her place atonce, for in this little world love and liberty prevailed; talent,energy, and character took the first rank; money, fashion, andposition were literally nowhere; for here, as in the big worldoutside, genius seemed to blossom best when poverty was headgardener. Young teachers, doing much work for little pay; youngartists, trying to pencil, paint, or carve their way to Rome; youngwriters, burning to distinguish themselves; young singers,dreaming of triumphs, great as those of Jenny Lind; and some whotried to conquer independence, armed only with a needle, like poorJane. All these helped Polly as unconsciously as she helped them,for purpose and principle are the best teachers we can have, andthe want of them makes half the women of America what they are,restless, aimless, frivolous, and sick.To outsiders that was a very hard-working and uneventful winterto Polly. She thought so herself; but as spring came on, the seed ofnew virtues, planted in the winter time, and ripened by thesunshine of endeavor, began to bud in Polly's nature, betrayingtheir presence to others by the added strength and sweetness of hercharacter, long before she herself discovered these May flowersthat had blossomed for her underneath the snow.