An Old-fashioned Girl | Page 8

can't sing any more; I 'm tired," she
said, and walked away to Madam in the other room. The red head
vanished like a meteor, for Polly's tone had been decidedly cool.
The old lady put out her hand, and drawing Polly to her knee, looked
into her face with such kind eyes, that Polly forgot the impressive cap,
and smiled at her confidingly; for she saw that her simple music had

pleased her listener, and she felt glad to know it.
"You must n't mind my staring, dear," said Madam, softly pinching her
rosy cheek. "I have n't seen a little girl for so long, it does my old eyes
good to look at you."
Polly thought that a very odd speech, and could n't help saying, "Are n't
Fan and Maud little girls, too?"
"Oh, dear, no! not what I call little girls. Fan has been a young lady this
two years, and Maud is a spoiled baby. Your mother 's a very sensible
woman, my child."
"What a very queer old lady!" thought Polly; but she said "Yes 'm"
respectfully, and looked at the fire.
"You don't understand what I mean, do you?" asked Madam, still
holding her by the chin.
"No 'm; not quite."
"Well, dear, I 'll tell you. In my day, children of fourteen and fifteen did
n't dress in the height of the fashion; go to parties, as nearly like those
of grown people as it 's possible to make them; lead idle, giddy,
unhealthy lives, and get blas, at twenty. We were little folks till
eighteen or so; worked and studied, dressed and played, like children;
honored our parents; and our days were much longer in the land than
now, it seems to, me."
The old lady appeared to forget Polly at the end of her speech; for she
sat patting the plump little hand that lay in her own, and looking up at a
faded picture of an old gentleman with a ruffled shirt and a queue.
"Was he your father, Madam?
"Yes, dear; my honored father. I did up his frills to the day of his death;
and the first money I ever earned was five dollars which he offered as a
prize to whichever of his six girls would lay the handsomest darn in his
silk stockings."
"How proud you must have been!" cried Polly, leaning on the old lady's
knee with an interested face.
"Yes, and we all learned to make bread, and cook, and wore little chintz
gowns, and were as gay and hearty as kittens. All lived to be
grandmothers and fathers; and I 'm the last, seventy, next birthday, my
dear, and not worn out yet; though daughter Shaw is an invalid at
forty."
"That 's the way I was brought up, and that 's why Fan calls me

old-fashioned, I suppose. Tell more about your papa, please; I like it,"
said Polly.
"Say 'father.' We never called him papa; and if one of my brothers had
addressed him as 'governor,' as boys do now, I really think he 'd have
him cut off with a shilling."
Madam raised her voice in saying this, and nodded significantly; but a
mild snore from the other room seemed to assure her that it was a waste
of shot to fire in that direction.
Before she could continue, in came Fanny with the joyful news that
Clara Bird had invited them both to go to the theatre with her that very
evening, and would call for them at seven o'clock. Polly was so excited
by this sudden plunge into the dissipations of city life, that she flew
about like a distracted butterfly, and hardly knew what happened, till
she found herself seated before the great green curtain in the brilliant
theatre. Old Mr. Bird sat on one side, Fanny on the other, and both let
her alone, for which she was very grateful, as her whole attention was
so absorbed in the scene around her, that she could n't talk.
Polly had never been much to the theatre; and the few plays she had
seen were the good old fairy tales, dramatized to suit young beholders,
lively, bright, and full of the harmless nonsense which brings the laugh
without the blush. That night she saw one of the new spectacles which
have lately become the rage, and run for hundreds of nights, dazzling,
exciting, and demoralizing the spectator by every allurement French
ingenuity can invent, and American prodigality execute. Never mind
what its name was, it was very gorgeous, very vulgar, and very
fashionable; so, of course, it was much admired, and every one went to
see it. At first, Polly thought she had got into fairy-land, and saw only
the sparkling creatures who danced and sung in a world