Eight Cousins

or The Aunt Hill

Louisa May Alcott

• Verlag: Read & Co. Classics
• Jahr: 2015
• ISBN:
  9781473370210
• Thema: Literatur
• Thema: Altertumswissenschaften

"Eight Cousins - Or, the Aunt-Hill" is a 1875 novel by American author Louisa May Alcott. The story centres around Rosy, an orphan who must adjust to her strange new life with her guardian, Uncle Alec. Once at her new home, she is confronted with an unknown family and the realities of life for contemporary women. Louisa May Alcott (1832 – 1888). was an American short story writer, novelist, and poet most famous for writing the novel "Little Women", as well as its sequels "Little Men" and "Jo's Boys". She grew up in New England and became associated with numerous notable intellectuals of her time, including Nathaniel Hawthorne, Ralph Waldo Emerson, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, and Henry David Thoreau. Other notable works by this author include: "An Old-Fashioned Girl" (1886), and "A Long Fatal Love Chase" (1875). Many vintage books such as this are becoming increasingly scarce and expensive. We are republishing this volume now in an affordable, modern, high-quality edition complete with the original text and artwork.

Chapter 9

Phebe's Secret

“Why do you keep smiling to yourself, Phebe?” asked Rose, as they were working together one morning, for Dr. Alec considered house-work the best sort of gymnastics for girls; so Rose took lessons of Phebe in sweeping, dusting and bed-making.

“I was thinking about a nice little secret I know, and couldn't help smiling.”

“Shall I know it, sometime?”

“Guess you will.”

“Shall I like it?”

“Oh, won't you, though!”

“Will it happen soon?”

“Sometime this week.”

“I know what it is! The boys are going to have fireworks on the fourth, and have got some surprise for me. Haven't they?”

“That's telling.”

“Well, I can wait; only tell me one thing is uncle in it?”

“Of course he is; there's never any fun without him.”

“Then it's all right, and sure to be nice.”

Rose went out on the balcony to shake the rugs, and, having given them a vigorous beating, hung them on the balustrade to air, while she took a look at her plants. Several tall vases and jars stood there, and a month of June sun and rain had worked wonders with the seeds and slips she had planted. Morning-glories and nasturtiums ran all over the bars, making haste to bloom. Scarlet beans and honeysuckles were climbing up from below to meet their pretty neighbours, and the woodbine was hanging its green festoons wherever it could cling.

The waters of the bay were dancing in the sunshine, a fresh wind stirred the chestnut-trees with a pleasant sound, and the garden below was full of roses, butterflies and bees. A great chirping and twittering went on among the birds, busy with their summer house-keeping, and, far away, the white-winged gulls were dipping and diving in the sea, where ships, like larger birds, went sailing to and fro.

“Oh, Phebe, it's such a lovely day, I do wish your fine secret was going to happen right away! I feel just like having a good time; don't you?” said Rose, waving her arms as if she was going to fly.

“I often feel that way, but I have to wait for my good times, and don't stop working to wish for 'em. There, now you can finish as soon as the dust settles; I must go do my stairs,” and Phebe trudged away with the broom, singing as she went.

Rose leaned where she was, and fell to thinking how many good times she had had lately, for the gardening had prospered finely, and she was learning to swim and row, and there were drives and walks, and quiet hours of reading and talk with Uncle Alec, and, best of all, the old pain and ennui seldom troubled her now. She could work and play all day, sleep sweetly all night, and enjoy life with the zest of a healthy, happy child. She was far from being as strong and hearty as Phebe, but she was getting on; the once pale cheeks had colour in them now, the hands were growing plump and brown, and the belt was not much too loose. No one talked to her about her health, and she forgot that she had “no constitution.” She took no medicine but Dr. Alec's three great remedies, and they seemed to suit her excellently. Aunt Plenty said it was the pills; but, as no second batch had ever followed the first, I think the old lady was mistaken.

Rose looked worthy of her name as she stood smiling to herself over a happier secret than any Phebe had a secret which she did not know herself till she found out, some years later, the magic of good health.

“'Look only,' said the brownie, 'At the pretty gown of blue, At the kerchief pinned about her head, And at her little shoe,”'

said a voice from below, as a great cabbage-rose came flying against her cheek.

“What is the princess dreaming about up there in her hanging-garden?” added Dr. Alec as she flung back a morning-glory.

“I was wishing I could do something pleasant this fine day; something very new and interesting, for the wind makes me feel frisky and gay.”

“Suppose we take a pull over to the Island? I intended to go this afternoon; but if you feel more like it now, we can be off at once.”

“I do! I do! I'll come in fifteen minutes, uncle. I must just scrabble my room to rights, for Phebe has got a great deal to do.”

Rose caught up the rugs and vanished as she spoke, while Dr. Alec went in, saying to himself, with an indulgent smile,

“It may upset things a trifle, but half a child's pleasure consists in having their fun when they want it.”

Never did duster flap more briskly than the one Rose used that day, and never was a room “scrabbled” to rights in such haste as hers. Tables and chairs flew into their places as if alive; curtains shook as if a gale was blowing; china rattled and small articles tumbled about as if a young earthquake was playing with them. The boating suit went on in a twinkling, and Rose was off with a hop and a skip, little dreaming how many hours it would be before she saw her pretty room again.

Uncle Alec was putting a large basket into the boat when she arrived, and before they were off Phebe came running down with a queer, knobby bundle done up in a water-proof.

“We can't eat half that luncheon, and I know we shall not need so many wraps. I wouldn't lumber the boat up so,” said Rose, who still had secret scares when on the water.

“Couldn't you make a smaller parcel, Phebe?” asked Dr. Alec, eyeing the bundle suspiciously.

“No, sir, not in such a hurry,” and Phebe laughed as she gave a particularly large knob a good poke.

“Well, it will do for ballast. Don't forget the note to Mrs. Jessie, I beg of you.”

“No, sir. I'll send it right off,” and Phebe ran up the bank as if she had wings to her feet.

“We'll take a look at the lighthouse first, for you have not been there yet, and it is worth seeing. By the time we have done that it will be pretty warm, and we will have lunch under the trees on the Island.”

Rose was ready for anything, and enjoyed her visit to the lighthouse on the Point very much, especially climbing up the narrow stairs and going inside the great lantern. They made a long stay, for Dr. Alec seemed in no hurry to go, and kept looking through his spy-glass as if he expected to discover something remarkable on sea or land. It was past twelve before they reached the Island, and Rose was ready for her lunch long before she got it.

“Now this is lovely! I do wish the boys were here. Won't it be nice to have them with us all their vacation? Why, it begins to-day, doesn't it? Oh, I wish I'd remembered it sooner, and perhaps they would have come with us,” she said, as they lay luxuriously eating sandwiches under the old apple-tree.

“So we might. Next time we won't be in such a hurry. I expect the...