A Little Maid of Ticonderoga

by Alice Turner Curtis

This was all new to Louise, and she listened eagerly, thinking to herself that she would color the faded quilts on her own bed; and that another summer she would gather a good supply of the roots and plants of which Mrs. Scott spoke.

“The pokeweed berries will color a good red,” continued Mrs. Scott; “but for scarlet we must use the dogwood roots.”

Then Mrs. Scott showed the little girls her bundles of dyestuffs, each plant and root tied up and marked carefully with its name and use. A large number of the dogwood roots were put into a huge iron kettle, the kettle filled with water, and hung over the fire. When it had boiled for several hours there would be a good scarlet dye in which the new blankets would be dipped. Then they would be hung to dry in the shed.

The next day the sun came out and shone brightly down on a white and glistening world, and that afternoon Mr. Trent came to take Louise home. He would not come in, but waited at the door until she was ready to go. But he thanked Mrs. Scott for all her kindness to his little daughter.

Faith was quite sure that Mr. Trent must be sorry to be a Tory instead of a loyal American. “But I suppose he can’t help it,” she decided, and always thought of her friend’s father as unfortunate.

Faith and Louise always had so many things to talk about that they seldom spoke of the redcoats; and when they did Louise seemed to dislike them more than Faith herself.

Faith and Donald both had snow-shoes, and on their way to school, a few days later, Faith stopped at the shoemaker’s door. But there was no response to her knock, and when she tried the door it would not open. She wondered where Louise and her father could be, but not until the next day did she hear that the shoemaker and Louise had left their home, apparently not to return. They had gone with a number of English families, on sledges, down the river, without a good-bye to the kind friends who had grown to love the little lame girl.

“I know Louise couldn’t help it,” Faith declared, when Aunt Prissy told her the news. “She will write to me, I know she will,” but it was a long time before any word came to her from her little friend. And now Faith became more and more eager for March to come, that she might once more see her father and mother, and make some attempt to send a message to Ethan Allen.