Free The Princess Club / Family Secrets / Mountain Madness by Catherine Marshall Page B

Pearl.”
    â€œWhat was the sound, Teacher?” Mountie asked shyly.
    â€œWell, the maidens didn’t know for sure, Mountie,” Christy said. Then she lowered her voice to a whisper. “Very carefully the maidens crept to the clearing that seemed to be the source of the wonderful sound. But Pearl tripped on a root—she had very large feet—and suddenly the sound vanished. All was still.”
    Christy glanced over at Ruby Mae and her friends. They were listening as attentively as the other children—maybe even more so.
    â€œWell, the maidens went to the clearing. They saw footprints leading away into the woods. They saw a campfire, too, the embers still glowing from the night before. And next to the campfire, what do you think they saw?”
    â€œA family of three bears?” Creed ventured.
    â€œWell, no, Creed, that’s another story. What they saw was a tiny silver flute. That’s a long, thin tube with holes in it. It’s a kind of musical instrument, just like the dulcimer Clara’s father likes to play.”
    â€œOr like the piano over to the mission house that Wraight plays on?” Lizette asked.
    â€œExactly,” Christy said, grinning. It was no secret that Lizette and Wraight Holt were “sweethearts,” as the children put it.
    Christy paused for a moment, considering where to take her story. She was making it up as she went along, and she wanted to be sure she got her point across to three members of the audience in particular.
    â€œWell, the maidens gave some serious thought to this flute,” she continued. “‘Maybe we should leave it,’ Drusilda said. ‘After all, it doesn’t really belong to us. Maybe the music-maker was so frightened he left this behind. Or maybe he left it for us out of the kindness of his heart.’ But Pearl was the leader of the group, and she said, ‘No, if we found it, it’s ours, fair and square.’ So she picked up that silver flute and she put it in her pocket and off the maidens set for
home.”
    â€œSo then they played songs on it, Teacher?” George O’Teale asked.
    â€œWell, that’s the thing, George. Drusilda tried, and Lucinda tried, and Pearl tried. They blew on that flute till their faces were purple, but the only thing that came out was the most dreadful noise. A noise like a hungry hog and a balking mule and a howling hound all mixed up together. The maidens had to wear earplugs day and night while they tried to make that sweet music they’d discovered in the woods. But you know what?”
    Christy looked over at Ruby Mae. She was staring at the ceiling with a strange, unhappy gaze, her mouth set in a frown.
    â€œThe maidens couldn’t make the silver flute play because it wasn’t theirs. They’d taken something that didn’t belong to them, and because of that, there was no joy in it.” Christy paused. “Finally, in frustration, the maidens took the silver flute back to the clearing in the woods. Day after day they waited patiently, hidden in the trees, far enough away so the music maker wouldn’t be afraid. On the last day, when they were just about ready to give up, what do you think happened?”
    â€œMusic!” George cried, and the other children laughed.
    â€œExactly, George. Music happened. The owner of the flute returned, and made the sweetest, most joyous, most angelic music the maidens had ever heard, even more beautiful than before.”
    â€œAnd is that the end, Teacher?” Creed asked.
    â€œThat’s the end, Creed.”
    â€œAin’t no point to this story,” Ruby Mae said darkly, speaking up for the first time. “They found the flute. They coulda kept it.”
    â€œBut it weren’t rightfully theirs,” Clara said softly. “So they couldn’t make music. You see, Ruby Mae?”
    â€œTell us another one, Teacher!” Creed urged.
    â€œAnd make this one