at it. Perhaps I know its name and how to tame it.”
“Now, Father,” said Mrs. Merriman as she carried in a pitcher of cool water to drink. “You just arrived. Are you not hot and tired?”
“Aye!” said Grandfather with a smile. “So the garden is the very place for me. No place is more refreshing than a garden, eh, Felicity?”
Felicity nodded happily and took his hand.
“And,” said Grandfather, “there’s someone outside Felicity must meet.”
“Oh, very well,” laughed Mrs. Merriman. “Go along with you!” She and Mr. Merriman smiled as Felicity and Grandfather hurried out into the sunshine.
Grandfather was a tall, spare gentleman who stood very straight. He wore no wig, but instead tied his white hair back in a queue. His soft gray eyes were usually full of gentle good humor.
Felicity skipped next to Grandfather, wondering whom she was to meet. Just as they reached the garden gate, William ran up to her and pulled her by the hand. “Come, Lissie! See what Grandfather has brought us!” he cried. “Look!”
In a far corner of the garden, Felicity saw Nan holding what looked like a lapful of soft white fluff. Suddenly, the fluff bleated! Felicity hurried toward Nan. She knelt and looked into the small, sweet face of a lamb.
“Ohhhh,” sighed Felicity. “Ohhhh! What a dear! Oh, Grandfather! I’ve never seen such a love!” The lamb looked at Felicity with big, gentle eyes. Felicity patted the lamb’s soft fleece. “Is the lamb ours?” Felicity asked. “May we care for her?”
“Well,” said Grandfather slowly. “I believe it is a good thing for children to have animals to care for. It reminds them that they are not the only living creatures on the earth. But taking care of an animal is a big responsibility. Do you think I can trust you to raise this lamb properly?”
“Oh, yes!” said Nan, William, and Felicity all at once.
Grandfather smiled. “Very well then,” he said. “If you do a good job, the lamb may stay here. But if I see that you are irresponsible, I shall take the lamb back to my farm. Is that fair?”
“Yes!” said Nan and William.
“Thank you, Grandfather,” said Felicity. Nan put the lamb in Felicity’s lap. Then she and William ran off to tell Mother and Father about Grandfather’s gift.
Grandfather sat down on the bench next to Felicity. “I know this little lamb won’t replace your Penny,” he said. “But perhaps she can be a comfort to you.”
Felicity smiled at Grandfather. She hugged the lamb gently. “Thank you, Grandfather,” she said again. “Thank you.”
Nan and William came back, dragging Mother and Father with them.
“See the lamb, Mother?” said Nan. “See how little she is?”
“What will you call your new pet?” asked Mother.
Felicity laughed as the lamb stood on its shaky legs and wobbled right into the middle of some flowers. “I think we should call the lamb Posie,” Felicity said, “because that will remind us of where she will be if we don’t keep an eye on her!”
Grandmother’s Guitar
Felicity loved being with Grandfather. Elizabeth did, too. She joined them in the garden almost every day before lessons. Grandfather sat in the shade with Posie at his feet. He watched Felicity weed, water, and prune her plants. Elizabeth made miniature landscapes out of the cuttings. She used twigs and stems for trees and moss for grass. Buds and petals were her flowers, and leaves were her ferns.
One afternoon, Grandfather studied Elizabeth’s landscape. “What place have you made here?” he asked. “This is a miniature of a real garden, is it not?”
“Oh, ’tis my garden at home—I mean, in England,” answered Elizabeth.
Grandfather nodded. “You miss it, do you?” he asked.
“Aye,” said Elizabeth. “My family came here to Virginia in the fall. This is my first spring away from England.”
Felicity sat back on her heels and looked at Elizabeth. She had never heard Elizabeth speak this way before. She had never thought about Elizabeth missing England.
Grandfather spoke thoughtfully. “I grew up in England, too,” he said to Elizabeth. “I, too, was transplanted to the soil of another country. ’Tis not easy to feel at home in a new place.”
Elizabeth sighed. “You see, sir, my parents are Loyalists,” she said. “And some people here have different ideas. They say the colonies should not belong to the king anymore. ’Tis hard to know what to think.”
“Humph!” snorted Grandfather. “All this talk against the king and his governor is stuff and nonsense! ’Tis the ranting of irresponsible scoundrels. The colonies are part of England and will be so forevermore.”
Felicity looked at Grandfather’s stern face. It’s a good thing he did not hear Ben and Isaac talking about the governor, she thought. She went back to her digging.
Felicity did not want to hear any more disturbing talk about the king and England. But it seemed to follow her like an unwelcome, bothersome fly. That evening, after supper, Ben went off to visit a friend. After Ben left, Grandfather frowned.
“You had better keep an eye on that young man,” Grandfather said to Father. “He is much too interested in the militia. He’ll be shirking his duties at the store to sneak off and watch them muster if you don’t stop him.”
“Ben is a good lad,” said Father. “I trust him.”
“Humph!” said Grandfather. “How can you trust someone you know is disloyal to the king? I heard Ben say the colonies should be independent. These young Patriots talking about rebellion know nothing about trust or loyalty. They have forgotten that loyalty is a promise to honor our old and valuable traditions.”
“Aye, sir,” said Father. “We must honor traditions. But perhaps we must honor new ideas, too.”
“Balderdash!” sputtered Grandfather. “New ideas are new nonsense! People are nothing if they are not loyal to their old values and traditions. They are irresponsible—”
“Now, now,” interrupted Mrs. Merriman. “Please let us have no arguing and disharmony. I hope there is room in the world for old ideas and new ideas, just as there is room for, for…” She looked around the room and smiled when she saw the spinet. “Just as there is room for old songs and new songs.” She sat at the spinet and started to play. “Let us sing together.”
Felicity could see that Grandfather was still cross. But he and Father were gentlemen, so they politely joined in the singing. And soon enough, the music soothed and cheered everyone.
“Felicity, my dear,” said Grandfather. “You have a fine voice. I think perhaps you have your grandmother’s gift for music. I have brought something for you. Wait here.”
He left the room for a short while. When he came back, Felicity could hardly believe her eyes. Grandfather handed her a guitar! A beautiful, graceful guitar! It was made of the same shiny wood as Annabelle’s guitar, but Felicity thought it was much finer. It had a flower carved in the middle where Annabelle’s guitar had only a hole.
Felicity