Oh, improve them as they fly,
These happy golden years.”
Laura’s heart ached as the music floated away and gone in the spring night under the stars.
Chapter 19
The Brown Poplin
Now that Ma had spoken of her clothes, Laura saw that she should do something about them. So early Saturday morning she walked to town to see Miss Bell.
“Indeed I shall be glad to have your help,” said Miss Bell. “I’ve been at my wits’ end to keep up with all the work, there are so many new people in town. But I thought you were teaching school.”
“Not on Saturdays,” Laura laughed. “Beginning in July, I can work all week if you like.”
So every Saturday she sewed all day long for Miss Bell. Before her school ended, she was able to buy ten yards of a beautiful brown poplin which Miss Bell had ordered from Chicago. And every evening when she went home there was something new to see, for Ma was making up the brown poplin for her, and Pa was building the new room for the organ.
He built it across the east end of the house, with a door in the north looking toward town, and windows in both the east and the south walls. Under the southern window he built a low seat, wide enough for one person to sleep on, so that it could be used as an extra bed.
One evening when Laura came home, the new room was com
plete. Pa had brought the organ; it stood against the north wall by the door. It was a beautiful organ, of polished walnut, with a tall back. Its overhanging canopy of shining wood almost touched the ceiling. Beneath that, three perfect little mirrors of thick glass were set into the rich walnut, and on either side of the music rack was a solid shelf for a lamp. The slanting music rack was of open woodwork cut in scrolls and backed with red cloth. It lifted on hinges, and revealed behind it a storage space for songbooks. Beneath this, the long, smooth lid folded back into the organ, or unfolded and dropped down to cover the row of black and white keys. Above the keys was a row of stops, marked tremolo and forte and other names, that changed the tone of the organ when they were pulled out. Underneath the keys were two levers, that folded back against the organ, or opened out so that a player’s knees could work them. Pressed outward, they made the music louder. Just above the floor were two slanting pedals, covered with carpet, that a player’s feet must press down and let up, to pump the organ.
With this beautiful organ, there was a walnut stool. It had a round top, standing on four curved legs. Grace was so excited about this stool that Laura could hardly look at the organ.
“Look, Laura, looky,” Grace said, and she sat on the stool and whirled. The top of the stool worked on a screw, and it rose or sank under Grace as she whirled.
“We must not call this a claim shanty any more,” said Ma. “It is a real house now, with four rooms.”
She had hung white muslin curtains at the windows; they were edged with white knitted lace. The black whatnot stood in the corner by the south window; the carved wooden bracket with the china shepherdess on it was hung on the eastern wall. The two rocking chairs sat comfortably by the east window and bright patchwork cushions lay on the wooden seat under the south window.
“What a pleasant place to sew in,” Ma said, looking at this new sitting room with a happy smile. “I shall hurry your dress now, Laura. Perhaps I can have it finished by Sunday.”
“There is no hurry,” Laura told her. “I don’t want to wear it until I have my new hat. Miss Bell is making the very hat I want, but it will take two more Saturdays’ work to pay for it.”
“Well, how do you like your organ, Laura?” Pa said, coming in from the stable. In the other room, which was only a kitchen now, Carrie was straining the milk.
“My goodness, Grace!” Ma exclaimed, just as Grace and the organ stool crashed on the floor. Grace sat up, too frightened to make a sound, and even Laura was horrified, for the stool lay in two pieces. Then Pa laughed.
“Never mind, Grace,” he said. “You only unscrewed it all the way. But,” he said sternly, “you stay off this stool, after this.”
“I will, Pa,” she said, trying to stand up. She was too dizzy. Laura set her on her feet and held her steady, and tried to say to Pa how much the organ pleased her. She could hardly wait until Mary came to play it while Pa played the fiddle.
At supper Ma said again that this was not a claim shanty any more. The kitchen was so spacious now, with only the stove, the cupboard, the table and chairs in it.
“This won’t be a claim, either, by year after next,” Pa reminded her. “Another eighteen months, and I’ll be able to prove up; it will be our land.”
“I hadn’t forgotten, Charles,” said Ma. “I’ll be proud when we have our patent from the government. All the more reason to call this place a house, from now on.”
“And next year, if all goes well, I’m going to get it sided and painted,” Pa promised himself.
When Laura came home next Saturday she brought her new hat, after all. She carried it carefully, well wrapped in paper to protect it from dust.
“Miss Bell said I’d better take it, before someone else saw it and wanted it,” she explained. “She says I can do the work for it afterward, just as well.”
“You can wear it to church tomorrow,” Ma told her. “For I have your dress finished.” The brown poplin was laid out on Laura’s bed, all pressed and shimmering, for her to see.
“Oh, let’s see your hat, too,” Carrie asked, when they had all admired the dress, but Laura would not unwrap it.