The Merryweathers
4/5
()
Related to The Merryweathers
Related ebooks
The Admiral's Daughter Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsCaptains Courageous Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Songs From Alice in Wonderland and Through the Looking-Glass Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Adventure League Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Ocean Cat's Paw The Story of a Strange Cruise Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsLord Arthur Savile’s Crime Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Complete Shorter Fiction Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsA Rough Shaking Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Two Guardians or, Home in This World Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe River’s Dream: A Cozy Mystery: An Infinite Cats Mystery, #3 Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsLord Arthur Savile's Crime and Other Stories Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Frank Merriwell’s Alarm Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Haute Noblesse: A Novel Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsLord Arthur Savile's Crime Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratings7 best short stories by Oscar Wilde Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsPort Out Starboard Home and other short stories Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsEnglefield Grange or Mary Armstrong's Troubles Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsA Walk in Wolf Wood Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsFrances Waldeaux Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Tides of Barnegat Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsLord Arthur Savile's Crime: Short Story Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The American Express Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsMarjorie's Busy Days Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsDead Man Manor Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsLord Arthur Saville's Crime: “I don't want to go to heaven. None of my friends are there.” Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsLove Among the Chickens Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Wind in the Willows Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5No Man's Island Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Far Traveller: A Ghostly Comedy Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsCaptains Courageous: A Story of the Grand Banks Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratings
Reviews for The Merryweathers
2 ratings1 review
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5This sixth and final installment of Laura E. Richards' Margaret Series might just as easily be considered the sixth volume of her Hildegarde Series, featuring as it does so many characters from that earlier cycle of books, and indeed, they appear to have been referred to as the "Hildegarde-Margaret" series, in some contemporary advertisements. Howsoever that may be, The Merryweathers is an enjoyable conclusion to both, setting out the story of a summer in a lakeside camp with that eponymous family, first seen in Hildegarde's Neighbors. In addition to the Merryweathers themselves - Mr. and Mrs. Merryweather, college girl Bell, twin brothers Gerald and Phil, Gertrude (AKA "The Snowy Owl"), and youngsters Kitty and Willy - Margaret and Peggy Montfort appear, as do Colonel and Jack Ferrars. Through the pleasant and mostly calm days - a notable exception being provided during the visit of the insufferable Claud Belleville - the Merryweathers and their friends enjoy their time together, playing games both imaginative and corporeal, and, in the case of quite a few of them, slowly pairing off. There is, after all, as young Willy Merryweather notes toward the end of the book, quite a bit of "spooning" going on in camp...I enjoyed this finale, which, much like Fernley House, brought together characters from both of Richards' series, and which offered some romantic conclusions to a number of the characters' stories. The romance of Gerald and Margaret, begun in Margaret Montfort and continued in Fernley House, becomes much more serious here, while Jack Ferrars and Bell Merryweather become engaged, and Phil and Peggy look like they are headed in the same direction. I was rather surprised, truth be told, that no mate was found for Gertrude, but then, perhaps Richards didn't intend this to be her final visit with these characters. I was struck, during the course of my reading, by how intellectually challenging and engaged the Merryweather family and their extended circle were. Impromptu games involving quickly-composed poetry, naming favorite quotations about the moon - Shelley, Milton, Browning, Longfellow, and Mother Goose all appear, in this context - and the singing of German lieder all featured in their day-to-day activities. Different expectations from a different time! I was also very interested in the discussion of feminine and masculine power that the girls have, midway through the book, as Margaret (who has always struck me as the author's personal favorite, and her mouthpiece, within the series) argues for the Victorian ideal of womanly influence, through feeling. Weakness as strength, and so on.All in all, this provided another pleasant reading interlude, with engaging characters, and the occasional moment of historical and sociological interest. How I wish that Richards had written more! I may have to dig around, and see if any of her other series look promising.
Book preview
The Merryweathers - Julia Ward Richards
The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Merryweathers, by Laura E. Richards
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
Title: The Merryweathers
Author: Laura E. Richards
Illustrator: Julia Ward Richards
Release Date: May 17, 2008 [EBook #25505]
Language: English
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MERRYWEATHERS ***
Produced by Suzanne Shell, Emmy and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
THE MERRYWEATHERS
THE
MERRYWEATHERS
BY
LAURA E. RICHARDS
AUTHOR OF CAPTAIN JANUARY,
MELODY,
"QUEEN
HILDEGARDE,
GEOFFREY STRONG," ETC.
Illustrated by
JULIA WARD RICHARDS
BOSTON
DANA ESTES & COMPANY
PUBLISHERS
Copyright, 1904
By Dana Estes & Company
All rights reserved
THE MERRYWEATHERS
Colonial Press
Electrotyped and Printed by C. H. Simonds & Co.
Boston, Mass., U. S. A.
TO
H. H. F., Jr.
WITH AFFECTIONATE GREETING.
FOR REMEMBRANCE
The
sunlight falls in gold upon the golden fields,
The ruffling wave gives back the sky in blue;
The asters fringe the meadow's skirts in purple pride,
And proud the goldenrod is standing, too.
Oh! clear and far across the lonely water,
The wild bird calls his mate at close of day;
My heart cries out, my heart cries out in answer,
And oh, I fondly think of them that's far away.
Oh, fair the fields where now their feet are treading!
Oh, green the trees that blossom o'er their head!
Oh, deep and sweet the skies above them spreading,
And on their hearth the fire-glow warm and red!
Still may they hear, across the lonely water,
The wild bird call his mate at close of day;
Still may their hearts, still may their hearts make answer;
Still may they kindly think of them that's far away!
CONTENTS
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
THE MERRYWEATHERS
CHAPTER I.
THE ARRIVAL
"
Oh
, Peggy, I am afraid!"
Why, Margaret!
Yes, I am. I feel very shy and queer, going among strangers. You see, I have never really been away in my life; never in this way, I mean. I was always with father; and then—afterward—I went to Fernley; and though so many people have come into my life, dear, delightful people, I have never somehow gone into theirs. And now, to go into a whole great big family, only two of whom—I mean which—oh, dear me! I don't know what I mean, but I have only seen two of them, you know, and it is formidable, you will admit, Peggy.
Well, I feel just a scrap queer myself,
said Peggy; "but I never thought you would. And anyhow, we needn't; we both know the boys so well, and though you have not actually seen the Snowy, you really know her very well. Darling thing! Oh, I cannot wait till we get there! Do you think we ever shall get there, Margaret? This is the longest journey I ever made in my life."
How about the journey from Ohio?
Oh, that is different. I know all the places along the road, and they slip by before one can think. Besides, a long journey always seems shorter, because you know it is long. Well, you needn't laugh, you know perfectly well what I mean. Oh, Margaret, I saw a glimpse of blue behind the trees. Do you suppose that is the lake? do you think we are nearly there? Oh! I am so excited! Is my hat on straight?
Margaret Montfort, by way of reply, straightened her cousin's hat, and then proceeded to administer sundry coaxing pats to her hair and her ribbons.
You are a trifle flyaway, dear!
she said. There! now, when you have taken the black smut off your nose, you will be as trim as possible. Am I all right?
You!
said Peggy, with a despairing look, as she rubbed away at her nose; "as if you ever had a pin or an eyelash out of place! Margaret, how do you do it? Why does dust avoid you, and cling to me as if I were its last refuge? How do you make your collar stay like that? I don't see why I was born a Misfit Puzzle. Oh—ee! there is the lake! just look, how blue it is! Oh! Margaret, I must scream!"
"You must not scream! said Margaret with quiet decision, pulling Peggy down into the seat beside her.
You must be good, and sit still. See! that old gentleman is watching us, Peggy. He will be scandalized if you carry on so."
He doesn't look a bit scandalized; he looks awfully jolly.
Peggy!
"Well, he does, Margaret. Do you suppose Mr. Merryweather is anything like that? Margaret!"
"What is it, Peggy? please don't speak so loud!"
"Perhaps it is Mr. Merryweather. I think—I am almost perfectly sure it must be. Why, he is positively staring at us. It must be Mr. Merryweather!"
Is Mr. Merryweather specially addicted to staring? I should not suppose so. This gentleman is not in the least my idea of Mr. Merryweather; and if he does stare,—there! he is looking away now,—it is because he sees a great big girl dancing and jumping in her seat as if she were Polly Peppercorn.
Next station Merryweather!
chanted the brakeman.
"There! Margaret, he is getting his things together. It is! it is, I tell you. Oh! I shall scream!"
Peggy's threat was uttered in so loud a stage whisper, that Margaret looked up in alarm, fearing that the gentleman must have heard. She met a glance so kind, so twinkling with sympathetic merriment, that she smiled in spite of herself.
The gentleman lifted his hat, instantly, and stepped forward. He was not tall, but broad and muscular, with keen, dark eyes that sparkled under shaggy white eyebrows; a most vigorous, positive-looking old gentleman.
A thousand pardons!
he said, in a deep, gruff voice which was the very essence of heartiness. You also are getting off at Merryweather, young ladies? I beg the privilege of assisting you with your parcels; I insist upon it! Permit me, madam!
and he took possession of Margaret's travelling-bag, Margaret blushing and protesting, while Peggy's blue eyes grew to absolute circles, and her little mouth opened to another.
You are very kind!
said Margaret. Indeed, I can carry it perfectly—thank you so very much! Yes, we are going to Mr. Merryweather's camp. Do you know—
Harry Monmouth!
exclaimed the old gentleman. Astonishing! Going there myself. Permit me to introduce myself—Colonel Ferrers, at your service.
He lifted his hat again, and bowed low.
Our name is Montfort,
said Margaret timidly, attracted and yet alarmed by his explosive utterance, so different from the quiet speech of the Montfort men.
Not John's daughters!
cried the Colonel. I'll be shot if you are John's daughters!
Oh! no,
cried Margaret, her eyes lightening. Not his daughters, but his nieces. Do you know Uncle John, Colonel Ferrers?
Know John Montfort? know the nose on my face? not that there is any resemblance; fine-looking man. I have known John Montfort, my dear young ladies, ever since he was in petticoats. John, Dick, Jim, Roger—fine lads! used to stay at Roseholme—my place in Dutchess County—forty years ago. School-boys when I was in college. All over the place, climbing, hunting, fishing, falling off the roofs—great boys! haven't heard of them for twenty years. Where are they now? all living, I—eh, what?
My father, Roger Montfort, is dead,
said Margaret, softly; so is Uncle Richard. Uncle John and Uncle James are living, Colonel Ferrers; this is Uncle James's daughter. Peggy dear, Colonel Ferrers! and I live with Uncle John at Fernley House. Oh! how delightful to meet some one who knows Uncle John!
Pleasure is mine, I assure you!
said the Colonel, gallantly. Harry Monmouth! takes me back forty years. Knew Roger, your father, well, Miss Montfort. Great scholar; fine fellow! nose in his books all day long, just like my brother Raymond; great chums, Roger and Raymond. I remember once—ha! here we are!
Merryweather!
shouted the brakeman. The train drew up beside a little wayside station. On one side of the track, a platform and a shed, with a few barrels and boxes lying about; on the other, a long stretch of dark blue water, ruffling into brown where the wind swept it.
The three travellers, emerging, found three persons awaiting them on the platform. Gerald Merryweather was first, his hand on the rail, his face alight with joy and eagerness; close beside him was another person, a tall girl in gray, at sight of whom Peggy, who had been apparently stricken dumb by the aspect of Colonel Ferrers, shouted aloud and tumbled off the car-step, to the imminent peril of life and limb.
Snowy! Snowy! is it really you?
You dear Peggy!
cried Gertrude Merryweather, taking her in her arms, and giving her a hearty kiss. "I am so glad! and this is Margaret—oh! welcome, most welcome, to Merryweather! Dear Colonel Ferrers, how do you do? it was so good of you to come! But where is Hugh? haven't you brought him?"
Colonel Ferrers drew her a step aside.
My dear Gertrude,
he said, in a confidential tone, "there is no need of my telling you that Hugh is one of the most astonishing—I will say the most astonishing boy I ever saw in my life. Expected to come; looking forward to it for weeks, greatest pleasure of the summer. Yesterday morning, Elizabeth Beadle had an attack of lumbago; painful thing; confined to her bed; excellent woman, none better in the world. Never could understand why good people should have lumbago; excellent complaint for scoundrels; excellent! well, the boy—his great-aunt, you understand!—refuses to leave her. Says she likes to have him read to her! Preposterous! I insisted, Elizabeth Beadle insisted, with tears in her eyes; tears, sir! I mean my dear! Boy immovable; Gibraltar vacillating beside him; tottering, sir, on its foundations. I had to come away and leave him, perfectly happy, reading Tennyson to Elizabeth Beadle. Ask somebody else to coerce a boy like that; Thomas Ferrers is not the man for it. Where's my Cochin China Chittagong?"
Jack?
said Gertrude, laughing. He is behind the shed, with the horses. The old horse doesn't like the train, and will not stand tying. As soon as Jerry gets the trunks—
Checks?
cried the Colonel, in answer to Gerald's request. Two of them, sir. Sole-leather trunk, green carpet-bag. Anything for me by express? box, hamper, basket, that sort of thing, eh, what?
I should think there was, sir!
said Gerald. A basket of peaches as big as the camp, or very near it; and a hamper that says 'salmon!' as plainly as if it could speak. You're awfully good, sir!
Nothing of the sort!
retorted the Colonel. Pity if I can't have a little gratification once in a way. Ah! there is my Cochin China—how are you, sir, how are you? prancing, as usual, like an Egyptian war-horse. Come here, and be introduced to the Miss Montforts! We are in luck, sir! Miss Montfort, Miss—eh? thank you! Miss Peggy Montfort, my nephew, John Ferrers. Here sir! take the bags, will you? Which way, Gerald? eh? what?
While the colonel was explaining (and exploding) to Gerald and Gertrude, and Margaret looking and listening in quiet amusement, Peggy had been hanging back, overcome in her turn by the shyness which her companion had conquered. But now Gertrude took her by the hand, and while the trunks were being hoisted on the wagon by Gerald and Jack, aided