A Fine Start Page 3

  Father says spring snows melt quickly. So we will be off tomorrow.

  March 28, 1857

  At last the snow has stopped. It comes up to my waist. It is not melting. We cannot leave the hotel. Father says others are worse off. I know he is right. But it is hard to sit still at the Riverside Hotel.

  Later

  George is helping to shovel a path from the hotel to the barn. Father says as soon as the path is finished, George and I may go and feed the horses. And look in on the wagons. He is worried that snow may have seeped through the coverings and wet our furniture.

  Here comes George. And here I go!

  March 29, 1857

  Father prayed aloud this snowy Sabbath morning. He gave thanks for our many blessings. Then we had silent prayers. I believe we all prayed for the same thing. Please, Lord, melt the snow!

  Later

  People are starting to leave the hotel. But Father says our goods are heavy. He does not want our wagons to get stuck in the mud. So we are waiting.

  Later

  And waiting.

  Evening

  We are the only people left at the Riverside Hotel.

  March 30, 1857

  Father took a walk this morning. He came back shaking his head. Too much mud.

  George and I have played “I Spy” until there is nothing else to spy.

  That is all I have to write in this diary.

  March 31, 1857

  Off at last! Oh, but it was hard going. Melting snow dripped down on us from tree branches. The road was a mud wallow. We got stuck several times. We had to jump out and push the wagons. We became coated in mud. I got used to it. After a while, I didn’t even mind.

  Now we are back at the Fish Hotel. One good thing about the mud: There are not many people here. So we were first in line for dinner. Eudora Fish came and sat beside me as we ate. She told me she is five years old. I said I had a sister just her age. That seemed to please her.

  April 1, 1857

  We rose early. As we left the hotel, Eudora ran outside after us. She put something into my hand. It was a blue bead. It is the same size as the shell-shaped buttons on my night-dress. Now I have a memento of the Fish Hotel.

  We drove the furniture to Lawrence. Father hired some men to carry it into the ready-made house. Father returned one wagon. We drove the other to the cabin. We arrived after dark. Home at last! How good it felt to wash off all that mud.

  Bedtime

  Mother called up to the loft that Quincy High School will begin tomorrow. I had forgotten all about it!

  April 2, 1857

  George had many chores to do this morning. He told me not to wait for him. So I rode to Lily’s cabin. Then the two of us rode to Lawrence. We put Honey and Sally in the pony barn behind the Unitarian Church. Then we lined up on Ohio Street with the other scholars. I counted almost sixty in the line. Our teacher, Miss Wilder, led us into the building and down the stairs. And so Quincy High School began.

  It is an elegant school. There is a bell. And a wall clock. In the rear of the room are settees made of shiny black walnut. Blackboards are built into the walls and circle the whole room. We have real desks, too. I never dreamed the school would be so fine. Thank you, Judge Josiah Quincy of Boston, for caring about a school for the children of K.T.!

  Miss Wilder is small. She cannot be much older than Hannah Peach. She wears her brown hair in one thick braid wrapped twice around her head. I wonder how long her hair is.

  India and Louisa came to school, too. They introduced Lily and me to their friend Alice Bailey. She is twelve and very tall. Her hair is red, like mine. Lily’s brothers Will and Sam were at school. And India’s big brother Peter. George ran in just before the bell rang.

  Adam Cook, who brought me Sally, came late. As a punishment, Miss Wilder said he must put his name on the blackboard. Adam picked up a stick of chalk. He began writing his name in big, looping letters. He took his time. We all looked on, wishing we could be the first to write our names on that beautiful blank blackboard instead of Adam Cook. It was not much of a punishment.

  Then Miss Wilder taught us about digestion. She said we must chew each bite of food twenty times before we swallow.

  Later

  I tried chewing like Miss Wilder said at supper tonight, but kept losing count.

  April 3, 1857

  Louisa brought a “charm string” to school today. She showed it to us at recess. It is a most wonderful thing — buttons all strung together on a length of strong thread. Louisa’s has sixty-seven buttons! The idea is for friends to give buttons to one another for remembrance. And for good luck. When the charm string rattles, it makes the loveliest sound.

  Later

  I have started my own charm string. Mother gave me sixteen buttons from her mending kit. Three are from a worn-out blue shirt of Father’s. Aunt Margaret gave me seven buttons. That makes twenty-three! On Monday, I will trade some of them to Louisa.

  Later

  I had the best idea! I wrote to Julia in St. Louis. I told her about charm strings. I sent her six buttons to start one of her own. Now I have only seventeen buttons left. But I hope Julia will send me some buttons.

  April 6, 1857

  Mother and Father have been working hard to get the new house ready for us. Tomorrow is moving day! I am packing my things.

  Pres is moody. He says he will not go without his snake. Father told him that our new next-door neighbor, Mr. Butler, rents out space in our barn to keep an enormous fat sow named Mae. That cheered Pres some.

  Today Miss Wilder read to us from a book called Lizzie’s Many Failings. In the first story, Lizzie’s little brother Herbert had a terrible runny nose. But Lizzie did not share her handkerchief with him. This meant she was Selfish.

  Pres often has a runny nose. Why do boys never carry their own handkerchiefs?

  Later

  Grace asked me to make her a charm string. I gave her five buttons from my own string. My string is now only twelve buttons. I feel very Unselfish.

  Later

  Tonight after supper, Aunt Margaret grew teary. She said she would miss us. That she liked her cabin full to bursting. Her tears were contagious. We all cried and hugged and cried some more. Mother said it was silly. We are moving only five miles away. But she said it with tears running down her cheeks.

  April 7, 1857

  I slept in Lawrence last night, in my old St. Louis bed. Oh, how good it felt! The window of my room overlooks the street. I can see everyone who passes by.

  Our bedrooms are on the second floor of our house. The third floor is still empty. Pres says he could raise snakes up there. All different kinds of snakes. Mother says she is sure we can think of a better use.

  Mother sat down at the piano this morning and played. She says she hopes a piano tuner will soon move to Lawrence.

  Off to school!

  Later

  I have come home for dinner. Children who live in town do this. But I miss eating dinner at school with Lily, India, Louisa, and Alice.

  As we ate, Pres recited a new poem for me. It goes like this:

  “In the barn there lives a pig.

  She is not small. But she is big.

  Her name is Mae. She is a sow,

  And not a horse or goat or cow.”

  I told Pres he was improving.

  April 8, 1857

  Miss Wilder was late to school today. We were all seated when she walked into the room. She went right to the blackboard and wrote her own name as a punishment! I like Miss Wilder.

  Alice Bailey has a charm string as long as my arm! She says it has almost 400 buttons. She went to visit her aunt in Topeka and it turned out that her aunt had worked as a seamstress. She had a box full of buttons and she gave them all to Alice. Lucky, lucky Alice.

  Louisa is most unhappy. Once she had the longest charm string. Now hers is shorter by hundreds of buttons. I have twenty-two buttons now. I added the blue bead from Eudora Fish, which makes twenty-three. It is not so many.
But I know where each one came from.

  Lily was not in school today. I hope she is not sick.

  Bedtime

  Tonight after supper, Mother sighed. She said she feels we are rattling around in our big new house. I have been feeling the same way. I miss Aunt Margaret so much. I never thought I would miss being crowded all together, but I do.

  April 9, 1857

  It rained hard last night. This morning everyone tracked mud into our beautiful schoolroom. One good thing came of the mud. Mother did not want me tracking any more than necessary into our new house. So she gave me my dinner to eat at school.

  Lily was not sick yesterday. She went with a Quaker group to visit the Lawrence School for Negro Children. She said they did sums that were much harder than anything Miss Wilder has given us.

  April 10, 1857

  Mother says I may take my dinner to school every day!

  Miss Wilder read to us again from Lizzie’s Many Failings. This story told how Rose had a pony to ride to school. Lizzie wished she had the pony instead of Rose. Lizzie’s new failing is Envy.

  Alice Bailey’s charm string is now nearing 500 buttons. I am trying hard not to have the failing of Envy myself.

  Later

  Pres dragged me out to the barn. I did not want to go. But I am so glad I did! For in the night, Mae gave birth to a litter of fourteen spring piglets. I have never seen anything sweeter than those little pink pigs.

  April 11, 1857

  Lily rode to visit me today. We put Honey in the barn next to Sally. I showed her the piglets. Then the two of us walked all over town. It was exciting to see so many different kinds of people. We passed two Delaware Indian women dressed in beautiful beaded leather. And behind them came a Negro man carrying a bag of carpenter tools. Then came a woman in a blue dress with a big hoopskirt. She carried a blue parasol to shade her face from the sun and held the arm of a man with a moustache and a stove-pipe hat. Right behind them came a group of men all in buckskin. They were chewing big wads of tobacco and spitting it right on the street.

  April 13, 1857

  Miss Wilder let us have a spelling bee today. We put our toes to a line on the floor. We stood straight, with good posture. Miss Wilder went down the row, giving us words to spell. My heart began to pound. I was so afraid I would not know how to spell my word. India’s big brother Peter stood next to me. His word was “suppose.” He did not know how to spell it. So he had to sit down at his desk. I felt bad for him, for he is almost as old as the teacher. I had to take his word. I must have spelled it right, for Miss Wilder did not tell me to sit. We went on for several more rounds. I was lucky and stayed in the bee. Lily stayed up, too.

  Each round, Miss Wilder gave harder and harder words. George missed “achievement” and sat down. Lily went down on “encouragement.” I went down on “aggravate.” But by that time I did not mind so much.

  The last one standing was Alice Bailey. She is only twelve. Yet she out-spelled all the older scholars. Alice Bailey has no Failings.

  April 14, 1857

  Uncle Aubert, Aunt Margaret, George, Charlie, and John came for supper. They brought one of Mother’s baby apple trees. Uncle Aubert dug a hole and planted it beside our ready-made house. He says soon it will give shade and apples.

  They brought another present, too. Jake the snake! One sunny day last week, he crawled out from the sod in the summer kitchen. Pres hooted with happiness. Then he and John took the snake to his new home in our barn.

  April 15, 1857

  Every day before school, Pres and I hoe our side yard to make a garden. Soon we will plant vegetables and flowers. Miss Wilder told us that the air we breathe out our noses is very good for plants. I plan to breathe all I can on our garden.

  April 16, 1857

  Grace came to supper holding her charm string. It was long! I asked where she had gotten so many buttons. But she would not say. At bedtime, I tried to put on my night-dress. But the buttons were gone. I went to find Mother. Her nightdress was missing its buttons, too. We went to find Grace. We asked to see her charm string. And there were our buttons. Grace confessed that she took Mother’s scissors from her sewing box. And she cut buttons off every piece of clothing she could find. Even from her own dresses. I am now helping Mother sew the buttons back on. Grace is helping, too. Mother says if she can use scissors so well, it is time she learned to use a needle.

  April 17, 1857

  Pres, Mother, and I planted our garden. We put in green beans, corn, rhubarb, carrots, potatoes, squash, pumpkin, onions, watermelon, berries, and lettuce. And flowers. Lots of flowers.

  Father is his old whistling self again. Every day he gets shipments of things to sell to emigrants who come to K.T. And to folks in wagon trains going west.

  Later

  Oh, no! Dr. Baer stopped by. He said Reverend Still has come down with the K.T. shakes. He is out of his head with fever. He is far too sick to marry Hannah and Theo. Will their wedding be called off?

  April 18, 1857

  The wedding is saved! A circuit preacher rode in to Lawrence last night. He stopped to water his horse in front of the Emigrant Aid Society. Mr. Vanbeek was there, working. He saw the preacher and ran outside. He asked him if he would marry Hannah and Theo. The preacher agreed. His name is Reverend Biddle.

  I helped Aunt Margaret make an apple pie for the wedding supper. It is baking now. Mmm, the cinnamon smells so good. Mother is making corn pudding.

  April 19, 1857

  Oh, my! What a wedding! I will never forget it as long as I live. Too tired to write about it now.

  April 20, 1857

  Miss Wilder says that if we want to tell a story, we must start at the beginning. So that is what I will do.

  It was a bright sunny day. And not much wind.

  I put on my prairie dress. And my sunbonnet. I helped Grace get dressed. Then we all drove to the Peaches’ claim. As we drew near, we met other wagons on the road. Everyone was going to the wedding.

  Dr. Baer greeted us when we drove up to the claim. We hopped out of the wagon. Will and Sam Vanbeek took our horses to the barn. I carried our basket of food over to a pic-nic table.

  There must have been 100 guests at the wedding. Everyone was talking and laughing. The men looked handsome in their straw hats. Many of the Vanbeek’s Quaker friends came to the wedding. They wore dark clothing. Mr. Young, the traveling photographer, came, too. So did many students from Quincy High School. Miss Wilder was there. And Alice Bailey. Mrs. Biggs’s daughter came. And her ten children, including Adam. I saw one of Lily’s brothers holding little Stewart. He has grown so big since I last saw him. (But his feet still look too small for the giant white booties.) Miss Peach pointed out two friends of Hannah’s from the vegetarian community. They drove all night long to come to her wedding.

  An old gentleman sat on a stool in the shade of the cabin. He was very large. His buttons looked as if they might pop off at any moment. He held his wide-brimmed hat in one hand. With the other, he mopped his forehead with a handkerchief. I wondered who he was.

  Hannah hurried over to me. She was pinker than ever. She had on a pale blue calico dress with a wide lace collar. She had dried flowers in her hair. She looked so beautiful. Hannah pinned a small clump of redbud to my dress.

  “There!” she said. “Now you are my sister!”

  She gave me a hug.

  Lily ran over to us. Hannah pinned redbud to her dress, too. I felt so glad that Hannah and Lily would be sisters. Lily said the redbud made us sisters, too.

  Soon, Miss Peach and Dr. Baer began asking people to move to the little hill behind the cabin. We all gathered there, standing in a semicircle. Then the very large man huffed and puffed his way up to the top of the hill.

  “Dearly beloved,” he said in a deep, booming voice. Now I knew who he was, Reverend Biddle.

  Hannah and Theo stood before him.

  Reverend Biddle spoke about the happy state of marriage. He recited Bible verses by heart. He recited Psalms.
He told how best to raise children. He boomed on for some time. He seemed to forget he was there to marry Hannah and Theo. At last Theo cleared his throat. This sound brought Reverend Biddle back to his job and he began the wedding ceremony. Theo and Hannah said their vows. Then Reverend Biddle pronounced them husband and wife. When the bride and groom kissed, Hannah turned as pink as a spring piglet!

  Everyone thought the wedding was over. But Reverend Biddle was only just warmed up.

  “Who else will come up the hill and be married?” the preacher boomed. “Come! All ye who will embrace this chance to be happily wed!”