White Lilac; or the Queen of the May by Amy Walton (ebook reader wifi .TXT) π
Excerpt from the book:
Mrs White had had several children before the birth of this one, but they had all died. This makes her quite determined to make sure that this one survives. She was telling a visitor that she thought of calling the baby Annie, in honour of the visitor, but she had just been saying how much she loved white lilacs, and her husband had brought a branch of it over from a nearby village. So the visitor said, call her Lilac White, as there were already too many Annie Whites in the village. Unfortunately the father dies shortly after, and the mother has to bring the child up on her own.
Now she is twelve, and a pretty child. A visiting artist asks if he may put her in one of his pictures. Lilac goes off with her cousin Agnetta, who believes she needs a new hair-do. Needless to say, the result is not attractive to the artist, who now refuses to put her in the picture.
Other characters in the story are Uncle Joshua, who is a good and well-loved man, and Peter, probably in his late teens, who is a farm worker, well-intentioned but clumsy. A big event in the village is May Day, and there is rivalry among the girls about which of them shall be Queen of the May. It is Lilac. Yet that very day her mother is taken ill and dies. She is taken to their home by a farmer and his wife, and taught the dairymaid arts such as butter and cheese making. In those days a girl such as Lilac would hope to be taken into domestic service and trained up to such high levels as house-keeper or cook. Lilac has some opportunities--will she or won't she take them up? A lovely book that takes us back to long-gone days in the pastoral England of the 1850s.
Now she is twelve, and a pretty child. A visiting artist asks if he may put her in one of his pictures. Lilac goes off with her cousin Agnetta, who believes she needs a new hair-do. Needless to say, the result is not attractive to the artist, who now refuses to put her in the picture.
Other characters in the story are Uncle Joshua, who is a good and well-loved man, and Peter, probably in his late teens, who is a farm worker, well-intentioned but clumsy. A big event in the village is May Day, and there is rivalry among the girls about which of them shall be Queen of the May. It is Lilac. Yet that very day her mother is taken ill and dies. She is taken to their home by a farmer and his wife, and taught the dairymaid arts such as butter and cheese making. In those days a girl such as Lilac would hope to be taken into domestic service and trained up to such high levels as house-keeper or cook. Lilac has some opportunities--will she or won't she take them up? A lovely book that takes us back to long-gone days in the pastoral England of the 1850s.
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get such a beautiful lot of it?"
"Please, ma'am, I don't know," said Lilac. "I found it on the doorstep."
Agnetta's wrath grew higher every moment. No one paid her any attention, and here was her insignificant cousin Lilac the centre of everyone's interest. She overheard a whisper of Miss Alice's: "She'll make far the loveliest Queen we've ever had."
What could it be they admired in Lilac? Agnetta stood with a pout on her lips, idle, while all round the busy work and chatter went on.
"Now, Agnetta," said Miss Ellen, bustling up to her, "there's plenty to do. Get me some twine and some wire, and if you're very careful you may help me with the Queen's sceptre."
It was a hateful office, but there was no help for it, and Agnetta had to humble herself in the Queen's service for the rest of the morning. To kneel on the floor, pick off small sprays from the bunches of lilac, and hand them up to Miss Ellen as she wove them into garland and sceptre. While she did it her heart was hot within her, and she felt that she hated her cousin. The work went on quickly but very silently inside the schoolroom. There was no time to talk, for the masses of flowers which covered table, benches, and floor had all to be changed into wreaths and garlands before one o'clock, for the Queen and her court. Outside it was not so quiet. An eager group had gathered there long ago, composed of the drum-and-fife band, which broke out now and then into fragments of tunes, the boy with the maypole on his shoulder, and bearers of sundry bright flags and banners. To these the time seemed endless, and they did their best to shorten it by jokes and laughter; it was only the close neighbourhood of the schoolmaster which prevented the boldest from climbing up to the high window and hanging on by his hands to see how matters were going on within. But at last the latch clicked, the door opened wide: there stood the smiling little white Queen with her gaily dressed court crowding at her back. There was a murmur of admiration, and the band, gazing open-mouthed, almost forgot to strike up "God save the Queen." For there was something different about this Queen to any they had seen before. She was so delicately white, so like a flower herself, that looking out from the blossoms which surrounded her she might have been the spirit of a lilac bush suddenly made visible. The white lilac covered her dress in delicate sprays, it bordered the edge of her long train, it twined up the tall sceptre in her hand, it was woven into the crown which was carried after her. At present the Queen's head was bare, for she would not be crowned till she reached her throne in the woods.
Then the procession began its march, band playing, banners fluttering bravely in the wind, through the village first, so that all those who could not get up the hill might come to their doors and windows to admire. Then leaving the highroad it came to the steep ascent, and here the wind blowing more freshly almost caught away the Queen's train from the grasp of her two little pages. The band, in spite of gallant struggles, became short of breath, so that the music was wild and uncertain; and the smaller courtiers straggled behind unable to keep up with the rest.
It made its way, however, notwithstanding these difficulties, and from the top of the hill where crowds of people had now gathered it was watched by eager and interested eyes. First it looked in the distance like a struggling piece of patchwork on the hillside, then it took shape and they could make out the maypole and the flags, then, nearer still, the sounds of the three tunes which the band played over and over again were wafted to their ears, and at last the small white figure of the Queen herself could plainly be distinguished from the rest. It did not take long after this to reach level ground, and as the procession moved along with recovered breath and dignity to the music of "God save the Queen", it was followed by admiring remarks from all sides:
"See my Johnnie! Him in the pink cap. Bless his 'art, how fine he looks!" Or "There's Polly Ann with the wreath of daisies!"
"Well now," said Mrs Pinhorn, "I will say Lilac looks as peart and neat as a little bit of waxworks."
"She wants colour, to my thinking," said Mrs Greenways, to whom this was addressed.
The Greenways stood a little aloof from the general crowd, dressed with great elegance. Bella rather looked down on the whole affair. "It's so mixed," she said; "but we have to go, because Papa don't wish to offend Mr Leigh."
"I call that a real pretty sight," said Joshua Snell, turning to his neighbour, who happened to be Peter Greenways. "They've dressed her up very fitting in all them lilac blooms. But wherever did they get such a sight of 'em?"
Peter had been forced into a shiny black suit of clothes, a stiff collar, and a bright blue necktie, that he might not disgrace the stylish appearance of his mother and sisters. In this attire he felt even less at his ease than usual, and his arms hung before him as helplessly as those of a stuffed figure. Perhaps it was owing to this state of discomfort that he made no other answer to Joshua's remark than a nervous grin.
"I don't see the Widder White anywheres," continued Joshua, looking round; "but there's such a throng one can't tell who's who."
Lilac, too, had been looking in vain for her mother amongst the groups of people she had passed through, and as she took her seat on the hawthorn-covered throne she gazed wistfully to right and left. No, Mother was not there. Plenty of well-known faces, but not the one she wanted most to see.
"She _promised_ to be in time," she said to herself, "and now she'll miss the crowning." It was a dreadful pity, for Lilac could only be Queen once in her life, and it seemed to take away the best part of the pleasure for Mother not to be there. She had been looking forward to it for so long. What could have kept her away? The Queen's eyes filled with tears of disappointment, and through them the form of Peter Greenways seemed to loom unnaturally large, his face redder than ever above his blue neckcloth, his mouth and eyes wide open. Lilac checked her tears and remembered her exalted position. She must not cry now; but directly the crowning and the dance were over she resolved to search for her mother, and if she were not there to go home and see what had prevented her coming.
This determination enabled her to bear her honours with becoming dignity, and to put aside her private anxiety for the time like other royal personages. She danced round the maypole with her court, and led the May-Day song as gaily as if her pleasure had been quite perfect. But it was not; for all the while she was wondering what could possibly have become of her mother.
At last, her public duties over, the Queen found herself at liberty. The crowd had dispersed now, and was broken up into little knots of people chatting together and waiting for the next excitement--tea-time.
Through these Lilac passed with always the same question: "Have you seen Mother?" Sometimes in the distance she fancied she saw a shawl of a pattern she knew well, but having pursued it, it turned out to belong to someone quite different. She had just made up her mind to go home, when one of her companions ran up to her with an excited face:
"Come along," she cried; "they're just agoin' to start the races."
Lilac hesitated. "I can't," she said; "I've got to go and look after Mother." "Well, it'll be on your way," said the other; "and you needn't stop no longer nor you like. Come along."
She seized Lilac's arm and they ran on together to the flat piece of ground on the edge of the wood, where the races were to take place. The steep side of the down descended abruptly from this, and Lilac knew that by taking that way, which was quite an easy one to her active feet, she could very quickly reach home. So she stayed to look first at one race and then at another, and they all proved so amusing that the more she saw the more she wanted to see, though she still said to herself: "I'll go after this one." She was laughing at the struggling efforts of the boys in a sack race, when suddenly, amidst the noise of cheers and shouting which surrounded her, she heard her own name spoken in an urgent entreating voice: "Lilac--Lilac White!"
"Who is it wants me!" she said, starting up and trying to force her way through the crowd. "I'm here; what is it?" The people stood back to let her pass.
"It's Mrs Leigh wants you," said a woman. "She's standing back yonder."
It was strange to see Mrs Leigh's beaming face look so grave and troubled, and it gave Lilac a sense of fear when she reached her.
"Is Mother here, ma'am?" was her first question. "Does she want me, please?"
Mrs Leigh did not answer quite at once, then she said very seriously:
"Your mother is at home, Lilac. You must go with me at once. She is ill."
Self-reproach darted through Lilac's heart. Why had she put off going home? But she must do the best she could now, and she said at once:
"Hadn't I best send someone for the doctor first, ma'am?"
"He is there," answered Mrs Leigh. "He was sent for some time ago; Daniel Wishing went."
The next thing was to get back to Mother as quickly as possible, and Lilac turned without hesitation to the way she had meant to take-- straight down the side of the hill. But Mrs Leigh stopped aghast.
"You're not going down there, surely?" she said.
"It's as nigh again as going round, ma'am," said Lilac eagerly; "and it's not to say difficult if you do it sideways."
Mrs Leigh still hesitated. It was very steep; the smooth turf was slippery. There was not even a shrub or anything to cling to, and a slip would certainly end in an awkward tumble. At another time she would have turned from it with horror, but she looked at Lilac's upturned anxious face and was touched with pity.
"After all," she said, grasping her umbrella courageously, "if you can help me a little, perhaps it won't be so bad as it looks."
So they started, hand in hand, Lilac a little in front carefully leading the way; but she was soon sorry that they had not gone round by the road. This was a short distance for herself, but it proved a long one now that she had Mrs Leigh with her. A slip, a stop, a slide, another stop--it was a very slow progress indeed. As they
"Please, ma'am, I don't know," said Lilac. "I found it on the doorstep."
Agnetta's wrath grew higher every moment. No one paid her any attention, and here was her insignificant cousin Lilac the centre of everyone's interest. She overheard a whisper of Miss Alice's: "She'll make far the loveliest Queen we've ever had."
What could it be they admired in Lilac? Agnetta stood with a pout on her lips, idle, while all round the busy work and chatter went on.
"Now, Agnetta," said Miss Ellen, bustling up to her, "there's plenty to do. Get me some twine and some wire, and if you're very careful you may help me with the Queen's sceptre."
It was a hateful office, but there was no help for it, and Agnetta had to humble herself in the Queen's service for the rest of the morning. To kneel on the floor, pick off small sprays from the bunches of lilac, and hand them up to Miss Ellen as she wove them into garland and sceptre. While she did it her heart was hot within her, and she felt that she hated her cousin. The work went on quickly but very silently inside the schoolroom. There was no time to talk, for the masses of flowers which covered table, benches, and floor had all to be changed into wreaths and garlands before one o'clock, for the Queen and her court. Outside it was not so quiet. An eager group had gathered there long ago, composed of the drum-and-fife band, which broke out now and then into fragments of tunes, the boy with the maypole on his shoulder, and bearers of sundry bright flags and banners. To these the time seemed endless, and they did their best to shorten it by jokes and laughter; it was only the close neighbourhood of the schoolmaster which prevented the boldest from climbing up to the high window and hanging on by his hands to see how matters were going on within. But at last the latch clicked, the door opened wide: there stood the smiling little white Queen with her gaily dressed court crowding at her back. There was a murmur of admiration, and the band, gazing open-mouthed, almost forgot to strike up "God save the Queen." For there was something different about this Queen to any they had seen before. She was so delicately white, so like a flower herself, that looking out from the blossoms which surrounded her she might have been the spirit of a lilac bush suddenly made visible. The white lilac covered her dress in delicate sprays, it bordered the edge of her long train, it twined up the tall sceptre in her hand, it was woven into the crown which was carried after her. At present the Queen's head was bare, for she would not be crowned till she reached her throne in the woods.
Then the procession began its march, band playing, banners fluttering bravely in the wind, through the village first, so that all those who could not get up the hill might come to their doors and windows to admire. Then leaving the highroad it came to the steep ascent, and here the wind blowing more freshly almost caught away the Queen's train from the grasp of her two little pages. The band, in spite of gallant struggles, became short of breath, so that the music was wild and uncertain; and the smaller courtiers straggled behind unable to keep up with the rest.
It made its way, however, notwithstanding these difficulties, and from the top of the hill where crowds of people had now gathered it was watched by eager and interested eyes. First it looked in the distance like a struggling piece of patchwork on the hillside, then it took shape and they could make out the maypole and the flags, then, nearer still, the sounds of the three tunes which the band played over and over again were wafted to their ears, and at last the small white figure of the Queen herself could plainly be distinguished from the rest. It did not take long after this to reach level ground, and as the procession moved along with recovered breath and dignity to the music of "God save the Queen", it was followed by admiring remarks from all sides:
"See my Johnnie! Him in the pink cap. Bless his 'art, how fine he looks!" Or "There's Polly Ann with the wreath of daisies!"
"Well now," said Mrs Pinhorn, "I will say Lilac looks as peart and neat as a little bit of waxworks."
"She wants colour, to my thinking," said Mrs Greenways, to whom this was addressed.
The Greenways stood a little aloof from the general crowd, dressed with great elegance. Bella rather looked down on the whole affair. "It's so mixed," she said; "but we have to go, because Papa don't wish to offend Mr Leigh."
"I call that a real pretty sight," said Joshua Snell, turning to his neighbour, who happened to be Peter Greenways. "They've dressed her up very fitting in all them lilac blooms. But wherever did they get such a sight of 'em?"
Peter had been forced into a shiny black suit of clothes, a stiff collar, and a bright blue necktie, that he might not disgrace the stylish appearance of his mother and sisters. In this attire he felt even less at his ease than usual, and his arms hung before him as helplessly as those of a stuffed figure. Perhaps it was owing to this state of discomfort that he made no other answer to Joshua's remark than a nervous grin.
"I don't see the Widder White anywheres," continued Joshua, looking round; "but there's such a throng one can't tell who's who."
Lilac, too, had been looking in vain for her mother amongst the groups of people she had passed through, and as she took her seat on the hawthorn-covered throne she gazed wistfully to right and left. No, Mother was not there. Plenty of well-known faces, but not the one she wanted most to see.
"She _promised_ to be in time," she said to herself, "and now she'll miss the crowning." It was a dreadful pity, for Lilac could only be Queen once in her life, and it seemed to take away the best part of the pleasure for Mother not to be there. She had been looking forward to it for so long. What could have kept her away? The Queen's eyes filled with tears of disappointment, and through them the form of Peter Greenways seemed to loom unnaturally large, his face redder than ever above his blue neckcloth, his mouth and eyes wide open. Lilac checked her tears and remembered her exalted position. She must not cry now; but directly the crowning and the dance were over she resolved to search for her mother, and if she were not there to go home and see what had prevented her coming.
This determination enabled her to bear her honours with becoming dignity, and to put aside her private anxiety for the time like other royal personages. She danced round the maypole with her court, and led the May-Day song as gaily as if her pleasure had been quite perfect. But it was not; for all the while she was wondering what could possibly have become of her mother.
At last, her public duties over, the Queen found herself at liberty. The crowd had dispersed now, and was broken up into little knots of people chatting together and waiting for the next excitement--tea-time.
Through these Lilac passed with always the same question: "Have you seen Mother?" Sometimes in the distance she fancied she saw a shawl of a pattern she knew well, but having pursued it, it turned out to belong to someone quite different. She had just made up her mind to go home, when one of her companions ran up to her with an excited face:
"Come along," she cried; "they're just agoin' to start the races."
Lilac hesitated. "I can't," she said; "I've got to go and look after Mother." "Well, it'll be on your way," said the other; "and you needn't stop no longer nor you like. Come along."
She seized Lilac's arm and they ran on together to the flat piece of ground on the edge of the wood, where the races were to take place. The steep side of the down descended abruptly from this, and Lilac knew that by taking that way, which was quite an easy one to her active feet, she could very quickly reach home. So she stayed to look first at one race and then at another, and they all proved so amusing that the more she saw the more she wanted to see, though she still said to herself: "I'll go after this one." She was laughing at the struggling efforts of the boys in a sack race, when suddenly, amidst the noise of cheers and shouting which surrounded her, she heard her own name spoken in an urgent entreating voice: "Lilac--Lilac White!"
"Who is it wants me!" she said, starting up and trying to force her way through the crowd. "I'm here; what is it?" The people stood back to let her pass.
"It's Mrs Leigh wants you," said a woman. "She's standing back yonder."
It was strange to see Mrs Leigh's beaming face look so grave and troubled, and it gave Lilac a sense of fear when she reached her.
"Is Mother here, ma'am?" was her first question. "Does she want me, please?"
Mrs Leigh did not answer quite at once, then she said very seriously:
"Your mother is at home, Lilac. You must go with me at once. She is ill."
Self-reproach darted through Lilac's heart. Why had she put off going home? But she must do the best she could now, and she said at once:
"Hadn't I best send someone for the doctor first, ma'am?"
"He is there," answered Mrs Leigh. "He was sent for some time ago; Daniel Wishing went."
The next thing was to get back to Mother as quickly as possible, and Lilac turned without hesitation to the way she had meant to take-- straight down the side of the hill. But Mrs Leigh stopped aghast.
"You're not going down there, surely?" she said.
"It's as nigh again as going round, ma'am," said Lilac eagerly; "and it's not to say difficult if you do it sideways."
Mrs Leigh still hesitated. It was very steep; the smooth turf was slippery. There was not even a shrub or anything to cling to, and a slip would certainly end in an awkward tumble. At another time she would have turned from it with horror, but she looked at Lilac's upturned anxious face and was touched with pity.
"After all," she said, grasping her umbrella courageously, "if you can help me a little, perhaps it won't be so bad as it looks."
So they started, hand in hand, Lilac a little in front carefully leading the way; but she was soon sorry that they had not gone round by the road. This was a short distance for herself, but it proved a long one now that she had Mrs Leigh with her. A slip, a stop, a slide, another stop--it was a very slow progress indeed. As they
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