The Blue North Room

“This,” said Sara, laying Aunt Josephina’s letter down on the kitchen
table with such energy that in anybody but Sara it must have been said
she threw it down, “this is positively the last straw! I have endured
all the rest. I have given up my chance of a musical education, when
Aunt Nan offered it, that I might stay home and help Willard pay the
mortgage off–if it doesn’t pay us off first–and I have, which was
much harder, accepted the fact that we can’t possibly afford to send
Ray to the Valley Academy, even if I wore the same hat and coat for
four winters. I did not grumble when Uncle Joel came here to live
because he wanted to be ‘near his dear nephew’s children.’ I felt it
my Christian duty to look pleasant when we had to give Cousin Caroline
a home to save her from the poorhouse. But my endurance and
philosophy, and worst of all, my furniture, has reached a limit. I
cannot have Aunt Josephina come here to spend the winter, because I
have no room to put her in.”

“Hello, Sally, what’s the matter?” asked Ray, coming in with a book.
It would have been hard to catch Ray without a book; he generally took
one even to bed with him. Ray had a headful of brains, and Sara
thought it was a burning shame that there seemed to be no chance for
his going to college. “You look all rumpled up in your conscience,
beloved sis,” the boy went on, chaffingly.

“My conscience is all right,” said Sara severely. “It’s worse than
that. If you please, here’s a letter from Aunt Josephina! She writes
that she is very lonesome. Her son has gone to South America, and
won’t be back until spring, and she wants to come and spend the winter
with us.”

“Well, why not?” asked Ray serenely. Nothing ever bothered Ray. “The
more the merrier.”

“Ray Sheldon! Where are we to put her? We have no spare room, as you
well know.”

“Can’t she room with Cousin Caroline?”

“Cousin Caroline’s room is too small for two. It’s full to overflowing
with her belongings now, and Aunt Josephina will bring two trunks at
least. Try again, bright boy.”

“What’s the matter with the blue north room?”

“There is nothing the matter with it–oh, nothing at all! We could put
Aunt Josephina there, but where will she sleep? Where will she wash
her face? Will it not seem slightly inhospitable to invite her to sit
on a bare floor? Have you forgotten that there isn’t a stick of
furniture in the blue north room and, worse still, that we haven’t a
spare cent to buy any, not even the cheapest kind?”

“I’ll give it up,” said Ray. “I might have a try at squaring the
circle if you asked me, but the solution of the Aunt Josephina problem
is beyond me.”

“The solution is simply that we must write to Aunt Josephina, politely
but firmly, that we can’t have her come, owing to lack of
accommodation. You must write the letter, Ray. Make it as polite as
you can, but above all make it firm.”

“Oh, but Sally, dear,” protested Ray, who didn’t relish having to
write such a letter, “isn’t this rather hasty, rather inhospitable?
Poor Aunt Josephina must really be rather lonely, and it’s only
natural she should want to visit her relations.”

“We’re _not_ her relations,” cried Sara. “We’re not a speck of
relation really. She’s only the half-sister of Mother’s half-brother.
That sounds nice and relationy, doesn’t it? And she’s fussy and
interfering, and she will fight with Cousin Caroline, everybody fights
with Cousin Caroline–”

“Except Sara,” interrupted Ray, but Sara went on with a rush, “And we
won’t have a minute’s peace all winter. Anyhow, where could we put her
even if we wanted her to come? No, we can’t have her!”

“Mother was always very fond of Aunt Josephina,” said Ray
reflectively. Sara had her lips open, all ready to answer whatever Ray
might say, but she shut them suddenly and the boy went on. “Aunt
Josephina thought a lot of Mother, too. She used to say she knew
there was always a welcome for her at Maple Hollow. It does seem a
pity, Sally dear, for your mother’s daughter to send word to Aunt
Josephina, per my mother’s son, that there isn’t room for her any
longer at Maple Hollow.”

“I shall leave it to Willard,” said Sara abruptly. “If he says to let
her come, come she shall, even if Dorothy and I have to camp in the

“I’m going to have a prowl around the garret,” said Ray, apropos of

“And I shall get the tea ready,” answered Sara briskly. “Dorothy will
be home from school very soon, and I hear Uncle Joel stirring. Willard
won’t be back till dark, so there is no use waiting for him.”

At twilight Sara decided to walk up the lane and meet Willard. She
always liked to meet him thus when he had been away for a whole day.
Sara thought there was nobody in the world as good and dear as

It was a dull grey November twilight; the maples in the hollow were
all leafless, and the hawthorn hedge along the lane was sere and
frosted; a little snow had fallen in the afternoon, and lay in broad
patches on the brown fields. The world looked very dull and
dispirited, and Sara sighed. She could not help thinking of the dark
side of things just then. “Everything is wrong,” said poor Sara
dolefully. “Willard has to work like a slave, and yet with all his
efforts he can barely pay the interest on the mortgage. And Ray ought
to go to college. But I don’t see how we can ever manage. To be sure,
he won’t be ready until next fall, but we won’t have the money then
any more than now. It would take every bit of a hundred and fifty
dollars to fit him out with books and clothes, and pay for board and
tuition at the academy. If he could just have a year there he could
teach and earn his own way through college. But we might as well hope
for the moon as one hundred and fifty dollars.”

Sara sighed again. She was only eighteen, but she felt very old.
Willard was nineteen, and Willard had never had a chance to be young.
His father had died when he was twelve, and he had run the farm since
then, he and Sara together indeed, for Sara was a capital planner and
manager and worker. The little mother had died two years ago, and the
household cares had all fallen on Sara’s shoulders since. Sometimes,
as now, they pressed very heavily, but a talk with Willard always
heartened her up. Willard had his blue spells too, but Sara thought it
a special Providence that their blue turns never came together. When
one got downhearted the other was always ready to do the cheering up.

Sara was glad to hear Willard whistling when he drove into the lane;
it was a sign he was in good spirits. He pulled up, and Sara climbed
into the wagon.

“Things go all right today, Sally?” he asked cheerfully.

“There was a letter from Aunt Josephina,” answered Sara, anxious to
get the worst over, “and she wants to come to Maple Hollow for the
winter. I thought at first we just couldn’t have her, but I decided to
leave it to you.”

“Well, we’ve got a pretty good houseful already,” said Willard
thoughtfully. “But I suppose if Aunt Josephina wants to come we’d
better have her. I always liked Aunt Josephina, and so did Mother, you

“I don’t know where we can put her. We haven’t any spare room, Will.”

“Ray and I can sleep in the kitchen loft. You and Dolly take our room,
and let Aunt Josephina take yours.”

“The kitchen loft isn’t really fit to sleep in,” said Sara
pessimistically. “It’s awfully cold, and there’re mice and rats–ugh!
You and Ray will get nibbled in spots. But it’s the only thing to do
if we must have Aunt Josephina. I’ll get Ray to write to her tomorrow.
I couldn’t put enough cordiality into the letter if I wrote it

Ray came in while Willard was at supper. There were cobwebs all over
him from his head to his heels. “I’ve solved the Aunt J. problem,” he
announced cheerfully. “We will furnish the blue north room.”

“With what?” asked Sara disbelievingly.

“I’ve been poking about in the garret and in the carriage house loft,”
said Ray, “and I’ve found furniture galore. It’s very old and
cobwebby–witness my appearance–and very much in want of scrubbing
and a few nails. But it will do.”

“I’d forgotten about those old things,” said Sara slowly. “They’ve
never been used since I can remember, and long before. They were
discarded before Mother came here. But I thought they were all broken
and quite useless.”

“Not at all. I believe we can furbish them up sufficiently to make the
room habitable. It will be rather old-fashioned, but then it’s
Hobson’s choice. There are the pieces of an old bed out in the loft,
and they can be put together. There’s an old corner cupboard out there
too, with leaded glass doors, two old solid wooden armchairs, and a
funny old chest of drawers with a writing desk in place of the top
drawer, all full of yellow old letters and trash. I found it under a
pile of old carpet. Then there’s a washstand, and also a towel rack up
in the garret, and the funniest old table with three claw legs, and a
tippy top. One leg is broken off, but I hunted around and found it,
and I guess we can fix it on. And there are two more old chairs and a
queer little oval table with a cracked swing mirror on it.”

“I have it,” exclaimed Sara, with a burst of inspiration, “let us fix
up a real old-fashioned room for Aunt Josephina. It won’t do to put
anything modern with those old things. One would kill the other. I’ll
put Mother’s rag carpet down in it, and the four braided mats Grandma
Sheldon gave me, and the old brass candlestick and the Irish chain
coverlet. Oh, I believe it will be lots of fun.”

It was. For a week the Sheldons hammered and glued and washed and
consulted. The north room was already papered with a blue paper of an
old-fashioned stripe-and-diamond pattern. The rag carpet was put down,
and the braided rugs laid on it. The old bedstead was set up in one
corner and, having been well cleaned and polished with beeswax and
turpentine, was really a handsome piece of furniture. On the washstand
Sara placed a quaint old basin and ewer which had been Grandma
Sheldon’s. Ray had fixed up the table as good as new; Sara had
polished the brass claws, and on the table she put the brass tray, two
candlesticks, and snuffers which had been long stowed away in the
kitchen loft. The dressing table and swing mirror, with its scroll
frame of tarnished gilt, was in the window corner, and opposite it was
the old chest of drawers. The cupboard was set up in a corner, and
beside it stood the spinning-wheel from the kitchen loft. The big
grandfather clock, which had always stood in the hall below was
carried up, and two platters of blue willow-ware were set up over the
mantel. Above them was hung the faded sampler that Grandma Sheldon had
worked ninety years ago when she was a little girl.

“Do you know,” said Sara, when they stood in the middle of the room
and surveyed the result, “I expected to have a good laugh over this,
but it doesn’t look funny after all. The things all seem to suit each
other, some way, and they look good, don’t they? I mean they look
_real_, clear through. I believe that table and those drawers are
solid mahogany. And look at the carving on those bedposts. Cleaning
them has made such a difference. I do hope Aunt Josephina won’t mind
their being so old.”

Aunt Josephina didn’t. She was very philosophical about it when Sara
explained that Cousin Caroline had the spare room, and the blue north
room was all they had left. “Oh, it will be all right,” she said,
plainly determined to make the best of things. “Those old things are
thought a lot of now, anyhow. I can’t say I fancy them much myself–I
like something a little brighter. But the rich folks have gone cracked
over them. I know a woman in Boston that’s got her whole house
furnished with old truck, and as soon as she hears of any old
furniture anywhere she’s not contented till she’s got it. She says
it’s her hobby, and she spends a heap on it. She’d be in raptures if
she saw this old room of yours, Sary.”

“Do you mean,” said Sara slowly, “that there are people who would buy
old things like these?”

“Yes, and pay more for them than would buy a real nice set with a
marble-topped burey. You may well say there’s lots of fools in the
world, Sary.” Sara was not saying or thinking any such thing. It was a
new idea to her that any value was attached to old furniture, for Sara
lived very much out of the world of fads and collectors. But she did
not forget what Aunt Josephina had said.

The winter passed away. Aunt Josephina plainly enjoyed her visit,
whatever the Sheldons felt about it. In March her son returned, and
Aunt Josephina went home to him. Before she left, Sara asked her for
the address of the woman whose hobby was old furniture, and the very
afternoon after Aunt Josephina had gone Sara wrote and mailed a
letter. For a week she looked so mysterious that Willard and Ray could
not guess what she was plotting. At the end of that time Mrs. Stanton

Mrs. Stanton always declared afterwards that the mere sight of that
blue north room gave her raptures. Such a find! Such a discovery! A
bedstead with carved posts, a claw-footed table, real old willow-ware
plates with the birds’ bills meeting! Here was luck, if you like!

When Willard and Ray came home to tea Sara was sitting on the stairs
counting her wealth.

“Sally, where did you discover all that long-lost treasure?” demanded

“Mrs. Stanton of Boston was here today,” said Sara, enjoying the
moment of revelation hugely. “She makes a hobby of collecting old
furniture. I sold her every blessed thing in the blue north room
except Mother’s carpet and Grandma’s mats and sampler. She wanted
those too, but I couldn’t part with them. She bought everything else
and,” Sara lifted her hands, full of bills, dramatically, “here are
two hundred and fifty dollars to take you to the Valley Academy next
fall, Ray.”

“It wouldn’t be fair to take it for that,” said Ray, flushing. “You
and Will–” “Will and I say you must take it,” said Sara. “Don’t we,
Will? There is nothing we want so much as to give you a college start.
It is an enormous burden off my mind to think it is so nicely provided
for. Besides, most of those old things were yours by the right of
rediscovery, and you voted first of all to have Aunt Josephina come.”

“You must take it, of course, Ray,” said Willard. “Nothing else would
give Sara and me so much pleasure. A blessing on Aunt Josephina.”

“Amen,” said Sara and Ray.

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