Shawl-Straps

Shawl-Straps By Louisa M. Alcott'On the first day of February we three will sail from Boston for Messina in the little fruit-ship Wasp. We shall probably be a month going unless we cross in a gale as I did splitting sails every night and standing on our heads most of the way' said Amanda folding up her maps with an air of calm decision. 'Hurrah! what fun!' cried Matilda waving a half-finished dressing-case over her head. But Lavinia with one sepulchral groan fell flat upon her bed and lay there dumb with the horrors of such a voyage. 'Just the thing for you my poor old dear. Think of the balmy airs of Sicily the oranges the flowers. Then a delicious month or two at Sorrento with no east winds no slush no spring cleaning. We shall be as merry as grigs and get as buxom as dairy-maids in a month' said the sprightly Amanda. 'You promised to go and if you back out we are lost for we must have a duenna. You can lie round in Europe just as well as here and I have no doubt it will do you a world of good' added Matilda. 'I shall keep my word but you will bury me in the Atlantic so make up your minds to it. Do you suppose that I a poor used-up old invalid who can't look at a sail-boat without a qualm can survive thirty days of standing on my head and thirty nights of sail-splitting as we go slamming and lurching across two or three awful oceans?' demanded Lavinia with the energy of despair. Before anyone could reply Amanda's little Mercury appeared with a note. 'The Wasp will not take passengers and no other fruit-ship sails this spring' read Amanda. 'Oh dear!' sighed Matilda. 'Saved!' cried Lavinia. 'Be calm: we shall go sooner or later if I buy a ship and sail her myself ' with which indomitable remark Amanda went forth to grapple with and conquer untoward circumstances. A month of plans vicissitudes and suspense followed during which Amanda strove manfully Matilda suffered agonies of hope and fear and Lavinia remained a passive shuttlecock waiting to be tossed wherever Fate's battledore chose to send her. 'Exactly two weeks from to-day we sail with a party of friends in the French steamer Lafayette from New York for Brest. Will you be ready?' demanded Amanda after a protracted wrestle with aforesaid adverse circumstances. 'But that is exactly what we didn't mean to do. It's expensive and fashionable France and not Italy north and not south.