Under the Lilacs (14 page)

Many pictures, cut from illustrated papers, of races, animals and birds, were stuck round the room, giving it rather the air
of a circus and menagerie. This, however, made it only the more homelike to its present owner, who felt exceedingly rich and
respectable as he surveyed his premises; almost like a retired showman who still fondly remembers past successes, though now
happy in the more private walks of life.

In one drawer of the quaint little bureau which he used, were kept the relics of his father; very few and poor, and of no
interest to anyone but himself — only the letter telling of his death, a worn-out watchchain, and a photograph of Señor José
Montebello, with his youthful son standing on
his head, both airily attired, and both smiling with the calmly superior expression which gentlemen of their profession usually
wear in public. Ben’s other treasures had been stolen with his bundle; but these he cherished and often looked at when he
went to bed, wondering what heaven was like, since it was lovelier than California, and usually fell asleep with a dreamy
impression that it must be something like America when Columbus found it — “a pleasant land, where were gay flowers and tall
trees, with leaves and fruit such as they had never seen before.” And through this happy hunting ground “father” was forever
riding on a beautiful white horse with wings, like the one of which Miss Celia had a picture.

Nice times Ben had in his little room poring over his books, for he soon had several of his own; but his favorites were Hamerton’s
“Animals” and “Our Dumb Friends,” both full of interesting pictures and anecdotes such as boys love. Still nicer times working
about the house, helping get things in order; and best of all were the daily drives with Miss Celia and Thorny, when weather
permitted, or solitary rides to town through the heaviest rain, for certain letters
must
go and come, no matter how the elements raged. The neighbors soon got used to the “antics of that boy,” but Ben knew that
he was an object of interest as he careered down the main street in a way that made old ladies cry out and brought people
flying to the window, sure that someone was being run away with. Lita enjoyed the fun as much as he, and apparently did her
best to send him heels over head, having rapidly learned to understand the signs he gave her by the touch of hand and foot,
or the tones of his voice.

These performances caused the boys to regard Ben Brown with intense admiration, the girls with timid awe, all but Bab, who
burned to imitate him, and tried her best
whenever she got a chance, much to the anguish and dismay of poor Jack, for that long-suffering animal was the only steed
she was allowed to ride. Fortunately, neither she nor Betty had much time for play just now, as school was about to close
for the long vacation, and all the little people were busy finishing up, that they might go to play with free minds. So the
“lilac parties,” as they called them, were deferred till later, and the lads amused themselves in their own way, with Miss
Celia to suggest and advise.

It took Thorny a long time to arrange his possessions, for he could only direct while Ben unpacked, wondering and admiring
as he worked, because he had never seen so many boyish treasures before. The little printing press was his especial delight,
and leaving everything else in confusion, Thorny taught him its use and planned a newspaper on the spot, with Ben for printer,
himself for editor, and “Sister” for chief contributor, while Bab should be carrier and Betty office boy. Next came a postage-stamp
book, and a rainy day was happily spent in pasting a new collection where each particular one belonged, with copious explanations
from Thorny as they went along. Ben did not feel any great interest in this amusement after one trial of it, but when a book
containing patterns of the flags of all nations turned up, he was seized with a desire to copy them
all,
so that the house could be fitly decorated on gala occasions. Finding that it amused her brother, Miss Celia generously opened
her piece drawer and ragbag, and as the mania grew till her resources were exhausted, she bought bits of gay cambric and many-colored
papers, and startled the storekeeper by purchasing several bottles of mucilage at once. Bab and Betty were invited to sew
the bright strips or stars, and pricked their little fingers assiduously, finding this sort
of needlework much more attractive than piecing bed quilts.

Such a snipping and pasting, planning and stitching as went on in the big back room, which was given up to them, and such
a noble array of banners and pennons as soon decorated its walls, would have caused the dullest eye to brighten with amusement,
if not with admiration. Of course, the Stars and Stripes hung highest, with the English lion ramping on the royal standard
close by; then followed a regular picture gallery, for there was the white elephant of Siam, the splendid peacock of Burma,
the double-headed Russian eagle, and black dragon of China, the winged lion of Venice, and the prancing pair on the red, white,
and blue flag of Holland. The keys and miter of the Papal States were a hard job, but up they went at last, with the yellow
crescent of Turkey on one side and the red full moon of Japan on the other; the pretty blue and white flag of Greece hung
below and the cross of free Switzerland above. If materials had held out, the flags of all the United States would have followed;
but paste and patience were exhausted, so the busy workers rested awhile before they “flung their banner to the breeze,” as
the newspapers have it.

A spell of shipbuilding and rigging followed the flag fit; for Thorny, feeling too old now for such toys, made over his whole
fleet to “the children,” condescending, however, to superintend a thorough repairing of the same before he disposed of all
but the big man-of-war, which continued to ornament his own room, with all sail set and a little red officer perpetually waving
his sword on the quarterdeck.

These gifts led to out-of-door waterworks, for the brook had to be dammed up, that a shallow ocean might be made, where Ben’s
piratical “Red Rover,” with the black flag,
might chase and capture Bab’s smart frigate, “Queen,” while the “Bounding Betsey,” laden with lumber, safely sailed from Kennebunkport
to Massachusetts Bay. Thorny, from his chair, was chief engineer, and directed his gang of one how to dig the basin, throw
up the embankment, and finally let in the water till the mimic ocean was full; then regulate the little water gate, lest it
should overflow and wreck the pretty squadron of ships, boats, canoes, and rafts, which soon rode at anchor there.

Digging and paddling in mud and water proved such a delightful pastime that the boys kept it up, till a series of waterwheels,
little mills, and cataracts made the once quiet brook look as if a manufacturing town was about to spring up where hitherto
minnows had played in peace and the retiring frog had chanted his serenade unmolested.

Miss Celia liked all this, for anything which would keep Thorny happy out-of-doors in the sweet June weather found favor in
her eyes, and when the novelty had worn off from home affairs, she planned a series of exploring expeditions which filled
their boyish souls with delight. As none of them knew much about the place, it really was quite exciting to start off on a
bright morning with a roll of wraps and cushions, lunch, books, and drawing materials packed into the phaeton, and drive at
random about the shady roads and lanes, pausing when and where they liked. Wonderful discoveries were made, pretty places
were named, plans were drawn, and all sorts of merry adventures befell the pilgrims.

Each day they camped in a new spot, and while Lita nibbled the fresh grass at her ease, Miss Celia sketched under the big
umbrella, Thorny read or lounged or slept on his rubber blanket, and Ben made himself generally useful.
Unloading, filling the artist’s water bottle, piling the invalid’s cushions, setting out the lunch, running to and fro for
a flower or a butterfly, climbing a tree to report the view, reading, chatting, or frolicking with Sancho — any sort of duty
was in Ben’s line, and he did them all well, for an out-of-door life was natural to him and he liked it.

“Ben, I want an amanuensis,” said Thorny, dropping book and pencil one day after a brief interval of silence, broken only
by the whisper of the young leaves overhead and the soft babble of the brook close by.

“A what?” asked Ben, pushing back his hat with such an air of amazement that Thorny rather loftily inquired:

“Don’t you know what an amanuensis is?”

“Well, no; not unless it’s some relation to an anaconda. Shouldn’t think you’d want one of them, anyway.”

Thorny rolled over with a hoot of derision, and his sister, who sat close by, sketching an old gate, looked up to see what
was going on.

“Well, you needn’t laugh at a feller.
You
didn’t know what a wombat was when I asked you, and
I
didn’t roar,” said Ben, giving his hat a slap, as nothing else was handy.

“The idea of wanting an anaconda tickled me so, I couldn’t help it. I daresay you’d have got me one if I
had
asked for it, you are such an obliging chap.”

“Of course I would if I could. Shouldn’t be surprised if you did some day, you want such funny things,” answered Ben, appeased
by the compliment.

“I’ll try the amanuensis first. It’s only someone to write for me; I get so tired doing it without a table. You write well
enough, and it will be good for you to know something about botany. I intend to teach you, Ben,” said Thorny, as if conferring
a great favor.

“It looks pretty hard,” muttered Ben, with a doleful glance at the book laid open upon a strew of torn leaves and flowers.

“No, it isn’t; it’s regularly jolly; and you’d be no end of a help if you only knew a little. Now, suppose I say, ‘Bring me
a “ranunculus bulbosus,”’ how would you know what I wanted?” demanded Thorny, waving his microscope with a learned air.

“Shouldn’t.”

“There are quantities of them all round us; and I want to analyze one. See if you can’t guess.”

Ben stared vaguely from earth to sky, and was about to give it up, when a buttercup fell at his feet, and he caught sight
of Miss Celia smiling at him from behind her brother, who did not see the flower.

“S’pose you mean this?
I
don’t call ’em rhinocerus bulburses, so I wasn’t sure.” And, taking the hint as quickly as it was given, Ben presented the
buttercup as if he knew all about it.

“You guessed that remarkably well. Now bring me a ‘leontodon taraxacum,’” said Thorny, charmed with the quickness of his pupil,
and glad to display his learning.

Again Ben gazed, but the field was full of early flowers; and, if a long pencil had not pointed to a dandelion close by, he
would have been lost.

“Here you are, sir,” he answered with a chuckle; and Thorny took his turn at being astonished now.

“How the dickens did you know that?”

“Try it again, and maybe you’ll find out,” laughed Ben.

Diving haphazard into his book, Thorny demanded a “trifolium pratense.”

The clever pencil pointed, and Ben brought a red clover,
mightily enjoying the joke, and thinking that
this
kind of botany wasn’t bad fun.

“Look here, no fooling!” and Thorny sat up to investigate the matter, so quickly that his sister had not time to sober down.
“Ah, I’ve caught you! Not fair to tell, Celia. Now, Ben, you’ve
got
to learn all about this buttercup, to pay for cheating.”

“Werry good, sir; bring on your rhinoceriouses,” answered Ben, who couldn’t help imitating his old friend the clown when he
felt particularly jolly.

“Sit there and write what I tell you,” ordered Thorny, with all the severity of a strict schoolmaster.

Perching himself on the mossy stump, Ben obediently floundered through the following analysis, with constant help in the spelling,
and much private wonder what would come of it—

“Phænogamous. Exogenous. Angiosperm. Polypetalous. Stamens, more than ten. Stamens on the receptacle. Pistils, more than one
and separate. Leaves without stipules. Crowfoot family. Genus ranunculus. Botanical name, Ranunculus bulbosus.”

“Jerusalem! what a flower! Pistols and crows’ feet, and Polly put the kettles on, and Angy sperms and all the rest of ’em!
If that’s your botany, I won’t take any more, thank you,” said Ben, as he paused as hot and red as if he had been running
a race.

“Yes, you will; you’ll learn that all by heart, and then I shall give you a dandelion to do. You’ll like that, because it
means
dent de lion,
or lion’s tooth; and I’ll show them to you through my glass. You’ve no idea how interesting it is, and what heaps of pretty
things you’ll see,” answered Thorny, who had already discovered how charming the
study was, and had found great satisfaction in it, since he had been forbidden more active pleasures.

“What’s the good of it, anyway?” asked Ben, who would rather have been set to mowing the big field than to the task before
him.

“It tells all about it in my book here — ‘Gray’s Botany for Young People.’ But I can tell you what use it is to us,” continued
Thorny, crossing his legs in the air and preparing to argue the matter, comfortably lying flat on his back.
“We
are a Scientific Exploration Society, and we must keep an account of all the plants, animals, minerals, and so on, as we
come across them. Then, suppose we get lost, and have to hunt for food, how are we to know what is safe and what isn’t? Come,
now, do you know the difference between a toadstool and a mushroom?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Then I’ll teach you some day. There is sweet flag and poisonous flag, and all sorts of berries and things; and you’d better
look out when you are in the woods, or you’ll touch ivy and dogwood, and have a horrid time, if you don’t know your botany.”

“Thorny learned much of his by sad experience; and you will be wise to take his advice,” said Miss Celia, recalling her brother’s
various mishaps before the new fancy came on.