Free The Windflower by Laura London

Sticks near
Fort
Strother
, on the southern frontier. In a flurry of concern Merry sent wool socks to Carl and one of the homemade cheeses to Jason and received back a friendly note from Carl and a very funny letter from Jason about the adventures that had befallen her cheese on its way to him, as deduced from its condition on arrival. They said little of what they must be suffering, and their courage awed and inspired Merry.
    March arrived. Sap ran in the maple trees, and it was time for sugaring off. The Almanack advised its readers: "Make your own sugar, and send not to the Indies for it. Feast not on the toil, pain, and misery of the wretched." With that grim proverb in mind Merry threw herself energetically into the maple sugaring, and after a day spent hefting sap buckets she strolled happily into the hallway with the joyous fragrance of boiling maple syrup following her from the kitchens. Glancing toward the whatnot, she saw the Richmond paper. In a mood of innocent contentment she lifted it. The front page story heading jumped out at her from the sober news sheet. In the headline was Rand Morgan and his ship, the Black Joke.
    The Black Joke, it seemed, had taken the American merchant ship Morning Star. Once aboard, the pirates had "made carnage of the hold, carrying off ruinous quantities of spirituous liquor, drunk as much as they could hold, and wastefully bathed themselves in the Surplus. The Captain's psalm book was villainously used for 'target practice, and the trunk of a Boston merchant was invaded and costly clothing cast upon the deck for the guffawing wretches to make peacocks of themselves in. Further, the First Mate's spectacles were taken from him and put upon a pig. A cargo worth forty thousand dollars in gold was seized as well as a goodly amount of medicines. All the meanwhile the fifer from the Morning Star was forced to play a hornpipe until he dropped from exhaustion and was carried aboard the pirates' ship to be conscripted into their own crew. Also aboard were three women, and of their use at the hands of the pirates this editor prefers to say nothing."
    Merry found Aunt April in the green drawing room, peering down in a dazzled way at a sheet of superfine stationery. Another confusing bill from the mantua-maker, thought Merry. Without looking at the letter she kissed her aunt on the cheek and said, "Good evening, Aunt April."
    April looked startled, as though she'd been woken from a catnap, and folded the paper in her hand so hastily that Merry had a fleeting impression of secrecy.
    "Merry Patricia! My, but you can come quietly into a room. You look tired, dear. I'll ring up the tea."
    The words were said in a flustered, rather disjointed voice that made Merry think that perhaps the bill had been high because of the blockade and her aunt was afraid she"d have to apply to Merry's father for extra funds this quarter. Wondering why her aunt didn't tell her about it, Merry said, "No, thank you, Aunt April. I had a cup of milk in the kitchen on the way in."
    "Did you? Well, I'm glad. You look tired to me. All this maple sugar making—I don't think it's been good for you. You've never been very strong."
    As long as Merry could remember, her aunt had been saying that to her. She had always accepted it before. Now she asked, "Why do you say that I'm not strong?"
    "Why, 1 mean merely that you're not robust. One can see looking at you that your bones are delicate, and . . . Merry Patricia, what's going on in that little head of yours? You don't look well to me, not a bit well."
    Merry sat down. "It's just that— Aunt April, have you read the evening paper?"
    "I've skimmed it, of course, but I haven't delved—oh. Ah, ha. You saw that dreadful story, did you, about the pirates? Why they find it necessary to put things like that in the public press so young people can be exposed to that kind of degraded story is more than I can imagine! No wonder you don't look well. I felt ill myself after reading it.