White Lilac; or the Queen of the May by Amy Walton (good books to read for 12 year olds txt) 📖

it was all about things of the past in which she had had no share. She might have liked it at another time, but just now she was full of the present, and she became more and more impatient as Uncle Joshua went on. He had to call back the first celebration of May Day which he "minded", and the smallest event connected with it; and when he had done Mrs White took up the tale, dwelling specially on Jem's musical talent, and how he had been the very soul of the drum-and-fife band.

"They're all at sixes and sevens now, to my thinking," she said. "Jem, he kep' 'em together and made 'em do their best."

"Aye, that's where it is," said the cobbler with an approving nod; "that's what we've all on us got to do."

His eye rested as he spoke on Lilac's eager face, and seizing the opportunity of a pause she rushed in with what she had so much on her mind:

"Oh, Uncle Joshua! to-morrow's the day, and I can't get no white lilac for Miss Ellen to make my garland with. What shall I do?"

But Joshua was in a moralising mood, and though Lilac's question gave him another subject to discourse on, he was more bent on hearing himself talk than in getting over her difficulty. He raised one finger and began to speak slowly, and when Mrs White saw that, she paused with the kettle in her hand and stood quite still to listen. Joshua was going to say something "good."

"It don't matter a bit," he said, "what you make your garland of. Flowers is all perishin' things and they'll be dead next day, and wear what you will, they won't make you into a real Queen. But there's things as will always make folks bow down when they see 'em, May Day or no May Day, and them's the things you ought to seek for, early and late till you find 'em. You take a lot of pains to get flowers to deck your outsides, but you don't care much for the plants I'm thinking of; you leave 'em to chance, and so sometimes they're choked out by the weeds. An' yet they're worth takin' trouble for, and if you once get 'em to take root and grow they're fit to crown the finest Queen as ever was; and they won't die either, but the more you use 'em the fresher and sweeter they'll be. There's Love now; you can't understand anyone, not the smallest child, without that. There's Truth; you can't do anything with folks unless they trust you. There's Obedience; you can't rule till you know how to serve. There's three plants for you, and there's a whole lot more, but that's enough for you to bear in mind, and I must be going along."

Joshua departed much satisfied with his eloquence, leaving Mrs White equally impressed.

"Lor'!" she exclaimed, "there's a gifted man. It's every bit as good as being in church to hear him. And I hope, Lilac, as how you'll lay it to heart and mind it when you get to be a woman."

But Lilac did not feel in the least inclined to lay it to heart. She was vexed with Uncle Joshua, who had not been the least help in her perplexity; for once he had failed her, and she was glad he had gone away so that she could think over a plan for to-morrow. It was of no use evidently to reckon on white lilac any longer, the only thing to be done now was to get up very early the next morning and pick the best moon daisies she could find for Miss Ellen. This determination was so strong within her when she fell asleep, that she woke with a sudden start next morning as the daylight was just creeping through her lattice. Had she overslept herself? No, it was beautifully early, it must be an hour at least before her usual time. She dressed herself quickly and quietly, so as not to disturb her mother in the next room, and then pushing open her tiny window gave an anxious look at the weather. Would it be fine? At present a thin misty grey veil was spread over everything, but she could see the village below, which looked fast, fast asleep, with no smoke from its chimneys and nothing stirring. There was such a stillness everywhere that it seemed wrong to make a noise, as though you were in church. And the birds felt it too, for they twittered in a subdued manner, keeping back their full burst of song to greet someone who would come presently. Lilac knew who that was. She knew as well as the birds that very soon the sun would thrust away the misty veil and show his beaming face to the valley. It would be fine. It was May Day, and she was Queen!

She drew a deep breath of delight, went downstairs on tiptoe, found a basket and a knife, tied on her bonnet, and unlatched the door; but there she stopped short, checked on the threshold by a sight so surprising that for a moment she could not move. For at her feet, on the doorstep, lying there purely white as though it had fallen from the clouds, was a great mass of white lilac. There were branches and branches of it, so that the air was filled with its gentle delicate scent, and it was so fresh that all its leaves were moist with dew. Someone had been up earlier even than herself. The question was--who?

Uncle Joshua of course; he had not failed after all, though how even such a very clever man could have got to Cuddingham and back since last night was more than Lilac could tell. That did not matter. There it was, and what a fine lot of it! "He must have brought away nigh a whole bush," she said to herself. "Miss Ellen will be rare and pleased, surely." She gathered up the sweet-smelling boughs at last, and put them into one of her mother's washing-baskets. There was no need to pick moon daisies now, and as she swept and dusted the room and lit the fire she gave many looks of admiration at her treasure, and many grateful thoughts to Uncle Joshua. Mrs White also had no doubt that he had managed it somehow; and she was so moved by the fact of his kindness, and by Lilac being Queen, and by a hundred past memories, that her usual composure left her, and she threw her apron over her head and had a good cry.

"There!" she said when it was over, "I can't think what makes me so silly. But Jem he would a been proud to have seen you--he always liked the laylocks."

But now came the question as to how it was to be carried down the hill to the school room. Lilac could not lift the great basket, and it was at last found best to pile up the branches in her long white pinafore, which she held by the two corners. When all was ready she looked seriously across the fragrant burden, which reached up to her chin, and said:

"You'll be sure and be up there in time, won't you, Mother, or you won't see me crowned?"

"No fear," said Mrs White as she held the gate open. "Mind and walk steady or you'll drop some, and you can't pick it up if you do."

Lilac nodded. She was almost too excited to speak. If it felt like this to be Queen of the May, she wondered what it must be like to be a real Queen!

It was a glorious morning. The mist had gone, the sun had come, and all the birds were singing their best tunes to welcome him. To Lilac they sounded more than usually gay, as though they were telling each other all sorts of pleasant things. "The sun is here--it is May Day--Lilac is Queen." All the trees too, as they bent in the breeze, seemed to talk together with busy murmurs and whisperings: they tossed their heads and threw up their hands as if in surprise at some news, and then bowed low and gracefully before her, for what they had heard was--"Lilac White is Queen!"

Her heart danced so to listen to them that it was quite difficult to keep her feet to a measured step, but when she reached the turn of the hill something made her feel that she must look back. She turned slowly round. There was Mother waving her hand at the gate. When they next met it would be up in the woods, and Lilac would wear crown and garland. She could not wave her hand or even nod in return, but she made a sort of little curtsy and went on her way.

At the bottom of the hill she met Mrs Wishing, who, bent nearly double by a heavy bundle, was crawling up from the village.

"Well, you look happy anyhow, Lilac White," she said mournfully. "And you haven't forgotten to bring enough flowers with you either."

"I can't stop," said Lilac, "I've got to go and put these on Father first. It's so far for Mother to come."

She gave a movement of her chin towards the primrose wreath which Mrs White had added at the last moment to the heap of flowers.

"Ah! well," sighed Mrs Wishing, "in the midst of life we are in death. I haven't much heart for junketing myself, but I shall be up yonder this afternoon if I'm spared."

Lilac passed quickly on, nodding and smiling in return to the greetings which met her. At the door of the shop stood Mr Dimbleby, his face heavier than usual with importance, and a little farther on she saw her Uncle Greenways' wagon and team waiting in charge of Ben, who leant lazily against one of the horses. Mr Greenways always lent a wagon on May Day so that the very old people and small children might drive up the worst part of the hill. Certainly it was there in plenty of time, for it would not be wanted till the afternoon; but it is always well not to be hurried on such occasions, and many of the people had to walk from outlying hamlets.

Lilac laid her primroses on her father's grave, and turned back towards the school-house just as the clock struck twelve. There were now many other little figures hurrying in the same direction with businesslike step, and all carrying flowers. Primroses, daisies, buttercups, cowslips, and honeysuckle were to be seen, but there was nothing half so beautiful as the heap of white lilac. Agnetta saw it as she passed into the school room, and gave an astonished stare and a sniff of displeasure: she had only brought a basket of small daisies, and had taken no trouble about them, so that her offering was not noticed or praised at all. Then Lilac advanced, and dropping her little curtsy stood silently in front of Miss Ellen and Miss Alice holding out her pinafore to its widest extent. There were exclamations of admiration and surprise from everyone, and Agnetta stamped her foot with vexation to hear them.

"It's _exquisite_!" said Miss Ellen at last. "Where did you