"May I help you, Miss?" he says, rising. A very handsome young black man.
"Yes," I say languidly. "I would like to make a donation to your cause. A donation in the amount of five dollars"
That gets his attention, as it's probably what he gets in three weeks of pay. He rises and says, "That is very generous of you, Miss. Will you come this way?"
He gestures toward an open door and I sweep in and see an older woman also at a desk. She stands up and says, "Yes?"
I take out a small cloth bag and lay it on her desk. "I wish to donate these five dollars to the antislavery cause," I say.
She smiles and bows and says, "How good of you. It happens that we are having a fund drive and this donation will be very welcome. We are taking gifts from such as yourself and publishing the names of the donors in newspapers all through the United States, in hopes of encouraging other like-minded, good people to join our crusade. We thank you, and the legions of the cruelly oppressed thank you."
"No thanks are necessary," I say, letting my voice grow soft and languid. I already knew about this sort of thing from my friend Amy, she being highly political and a staunch abolitionist. "Ah thank you for carrying on this holy work." I open the purse that hangs at my waist. "Heah," I say, "is anothah five dollahs to ensure that an advertisement is taken out in mah name in the Richmond paper."
"How kind. We shall see to it. As a matter of fact, there is a dispatch going down to our southern office this very day, and it will appear within the week," she says with a smile. "And who may we put down as the kind benefactor?"
"Mah name is Clarissa Howe," I say. "That is Miss Clarissa Worthington Howe of the Virginia Howes"
Just wait'll Guv'nor Howe gets a load of that! Him owning at least five hundred slaves, and his own darlin daughter ... oh, how I hope it will be hot for her!
About a week later, at Chorus, Mistress appears at the doorway with a large, well-dressed, and obviously very angry man at her side.
Clarissa, who is right next to me, exclaims in delight, "Why, Daddy! What a surprise! What—"
But that's as far as she gets. General Howe speaks not a word as he strides across the room, grabs his daughter by the wrist, and drags her out of the room, out of the school.
We do not see Clarissa for two whole days, and when we do, I make sure I smile sweetly as I give her one of my best curtsies and welcome her back into our company. Just so's there's no mistake. She glares at me with pure and open hatred. She knows, yes, she knows...
Oh, was ten dollars ever better spent?
Chapter 16
"Whoa! Look at the size of that brute!" I exult as the trap breaks the surface. I reach in and pull out the luckless lobster. "He must be three pounds if he's an ounce!"
"Careful of his claws, Missy," says Jim.
"Disgusting bug," says Amy.
"Phylum Arthropoda, class Crustacea, genus and species Homarus americanus" says Dorothea.
"Don't you let that thing splash me," says Elspeth.
"Ah, and for sure he'll decorate some gentleman's table tonight," says I, tossing the beast into the live box and wiping my hands on my skirt.
"Did you know, Sister," intones the ever-cheerful Amy, "that in the early days in Massachusetts it was against the law to feed lobster to the slaves and indentured servants more than thrice a week? Yes, more often than that was considered cruelty."
"I had heard that, Sister, as you have told me about it more than once, but I chalk it up to the early settlers not knowing that everything tastes better when it is dipped in melted butter. And maybe with a squeeze of lemon, if you can find one. Ah, yes, that is the secret, and that is why this American Homer will be loudly acclaimed by all the dinner guests as he, and a few of his fellows, are brought red and steaming into the banquet!"
I sit myself back down and say to Jim, "That's the last of the traps. Let's take a bit of a cruise about Spectacle Island over there before we head back in." He nods and puts the tiller over.
"Isn't this just the most wonderful day? And tomorrow is the field trip!" exults little Rebecca. "With that nice Mr. Harrison and that funny Jerome!"
I hold my tongue on the wonderfulness of those two. Mr. Harrison is the man who runs the excursion company that will take us out to Peddocks Island tomorrow, and he has been by the school several times to make the final arrangements. Hell, I could take everybody over in two trips with the Star, but that proposal falls on deaf ears. On each of his visits, Mr. Harrison has brought with him his Negro slave, Jerome, and many of the girls are much taken with his antics. Jerome has a permanent silly grin on his face and he frolics about in an out-of-date fancy jacket that is at least two sizes too big for him, and he wears a white powdered wig that is always comically askew. He is an accomplished juggler and amazes the girls with several magic tricks, too. But he doesn't amaze me. "We had many black men on the ships on which I served and they knew their seamanship and were respected for it," I say to Amy, who shares my opinion in this matter ... and they didn't have to act like clowns. This Jerome has cast some japing, rolling-eyed glances in the direction of Angelique, but I see nothing but disgust in her composed face at his amorous displays.
Well, to hell with them, I think and stretch out and look up at the sky and my perfectly trimmed white sail. The sun is shining and it is warm and I am content. The five of us had checked out of the school, to stay the night at Elspeth's house, Higgins having escorted us over there yesterday and then returned to the school ... or wherever else he was going for the weekend. As before, Elspeth's parents treated us like we were royalty and we had a grand time. I know that Dorothea agreed to come only because of a promised cruise in the Star whereupon she might peer at many of the birds of the bay, and Amy came only to keep an eye on me, but all had fun at the Goodwins' in spite of themselves. Little Rebecca, of course, is always up for a good time, wherever she can find it, poor thing. She has grown used to her parents being off on diplomatic duty and does not cry about it anymore.
"Hah! There's a guillemot! A Cepphus grylle! They don't always come down this far. Wait till I tell Mr. Sackett! He will be ever so envious." I look out over the water and see a stubby-winged black bird with white patches on its wings barely making it over the crests of the waves, little as those waves are. Beat on, little bird...
Dorothea has become entranced with my long glass this day and trains it on any hapless bird that might cross her line of sight. Though some make fun of her and her studiousness, I have never heard her say a bad word against anyone, so she is all right with me. I had Elspeth invite her, because I knew she would enjoy this. I look over at her, her eye glued to the glass. She is a pleasant-looking girl of medium height with unruly brown hair that she does not make a great deal of effort to keep neat. As a matter of fact, she has a habit, when deep in study of some tome, of taking a tendril of that hair into her mouth to suck and chew upon. Mistress has told her that she will be switched if she catches her doing it again, but I don't know if that has stopped her in the practice. She also has a pair of spectacles with round-shaped lenses that she wears sometimes when reading. The lenses are tinted blue and I think she wears them in imitation of Dr. Franklin. These Americans do like their Dr. Franklin. From what I've read, he was a bit of a rake—Old Lightning Rod, he was sometimes called—but what the hell.
I've decided to stop later today at Gardner's Chandlery, on our way back to the school, so as to get Dorothea a glass of her own, as I know she will get great joy from it. She will protest that she has no money on her, and none of these rich girls ever do, but I will tell her we will charge it to Faber Shipping, Worldwide, and she can pay me back when next she can wheedle some money out of Daddy. Course I know that once I show her the way up to the widow's walk, we may never see her again 'cause she'll be so busy peering through her long glass at all of the birds, stars, and who knows what all.
"I believe I shall marry that charming Mr. Beauchamp I met at Harvard College that day." Elspeth sighs, beating her eyelashes. "He was ever so attentive to me." We have gotten to the other side of Spectacle Island and are on a gentle beam reach in the light breeze. It is a perfect day and the talk is as light as the air.
"As that Mr. Trevelyne was to you, Jacky," teases Rebecca, entering into the game.
"If by attentive you mean his having his hands all over her when Mistress wasn't looking, then he was that," grumbles Amy.
"Now, now, Sister," simpers I, "Brother Randall was merely being friendly, and you know I am not particularly shy in that way."
"That is certainly the truth. I had to put myself in the way of Constance Howell, who was on her way to tell Mistress on you. If I had not done that, you would have had some serious excuses to make, believe me."
I did not know this. "Why, thank you for that, Amy," I say, and mean it. "I didn't think I was being that bad at the time."
Amy sniffs. "You never think you are being bad"
"So you agree I deserved the red petticoat, then, Sister?" I say, miffed.
"No. That was rude. But if anyone gives people like Constance reason to vent their prudish spleen, it is you, Jacky."
"Them that don't like me can leave me alone, that's what say."
"If ever I will marry," says Dorothea, the glass still held to her eye, "it will have to be to a man of great learning, who will love me enough to let me pursue my own interests. Otherwise, I shall stay single."
"And what about you, young Jim? Who will you marry?" I ask of my stout coxswain.
"Whom will you marry," corrects Amy.
Grrr...
"A sturdy lass who knows how to swing a clam hook and what can bring in two bushels between the tides, that's whom I will marry," says my practical Jim, but I don't believe him.
"What about sweet little Claire, who worships the ground you walk upon?" I tease.
He reddens and pretends to check the trim of the sail. "She's a farm girl, and being a seaman, I don't have no truck with such as that."
"Ah, yes, well we shall see. Farm girls do have their charms, you know. They know how to make butter and cheese, and how to put up preserves, and all sorts of things that don't have to do with fishy stuff. Here's a song for you, lad, that you might take to heart." I pull my whistle from my sleeve and tootle a bit of the melody, then sing...
Now do you ken my bonnie Jean,
She's every fisher laddie's dream,
She guts the herring down by the sea
And saves her kisses just for me!
"How would you like to kiss a girl who's been guttin' herring all day? She'd be smellin' pretty ripe, I'd think." Cries of eeeeuuwww! all around.
"I ain't gonna marry nobody, then," swears Jim, upon consideration of the choices offered him.
As we come around the south end of the island, I see an opportunity for some fun with Amy. There is a pack of seals lying about the ledge rock there. I motion for Jim to bring the Star in closer to the seals, and he does.
"That is all well for you, Elspeth, and I hope you and your Beauchamp have many fine fat babies, and, Dorothea, I hope you find your kind scientist, but I am afraid that for poor Amy and me, well, we are doomed to live single all of our lives." I heave a great, theatrical sigh.