CHAPTER V
More Trouble
It was about two weeks after Bubbles' departure that Eleanor, coming home one day from school, found her new doll missing and her precious Jungle Book out of its place on her shelves. She searched high and low but could find neither book nor doll. She gave to her dolls a devoted affection. They seemed real persons to her and any indignity offered to them cut her to the very heart. Once in a while she had forgotten and had left some special member of her family out in the garden all night and her self-reproach upon discovering it was great. It was as if she felt upon her own tender body the dews of night, and as if pangs of hunger had been hers, and after that, for days, the victim of her forgetfulness would be treated with extra care and tenderness.
For her books she had the feeling that is that of every true book-lover. It hurt her to see her treasured volumes laid face down, or to see thumb-marks soiling one of the clean pages or to come across a leaf turned down; therefore she dreaded to see one of her beloved books in Donald's hands. Donald was no respecter of the property of others, and if he wanted a book he usually helped himself to it and kept it in the playhouse as long as it suited him. He was very tenacious, it may be said, about his right to the playhouse, and always kept the door locked and the key in his pocket when he was not in the small building, so that Eleanor had no opportunity of going in there to search for any of her lost treasures.
She sighed as she thought some day she would probably find her Jungle Book, soiled and with dingy covers, returned to her shelves, but Donald professed to despise dolls and what could he want to do with her dear Ada? She determined to ask him if he had seen her doll, and to be very polite when she did it; so she waited patiently till she should hear him come in.
It was cold November weather and the winter was fast approaching. Eleanor shuddered as she thought of Ada lying somewhere out in the chill wind, but she said very sweetly, "Donald, have you seen anything of my new doll?"
"What do you suppose I know about your old doll?" he returned.
"I can't find her anywhere," Eleanor went on wistfully. "I left her sitting on my bed this morning, and I have hunted high and low for her."
"You didn't look in the flour barrel, I suppose," said Donald laughing.
"No. Oh, you didn't put her in there, did you? She will smother." And she hurried off to the pantry to examine the contents of the barrel.
Mrs. Murdoch coming saw her there. "Eleanor, what are you doing?" she asked sharply. "You charge Olive with pilfering from my store of cakes and I find you in here. What does this mean?"
"I am only looking for my doll, Cousin Ellen," Eleanor replied, too much worried to notice the implied charges.
"A queer place to look for a doll."
"Donald asked me if I had looked in the flour barrel, and I want so much to find her."
"As if he would put a doll in there. He has better sense than to do such a thing," said Mrs. Murdoch. "Your excuse is a very lame one, Eleanor."
But Eleanor paid little heed to her and again sought Donald, who jeeringly said: "When she's up she's up, and when she's down she's down, and when she's half-way up she's neither up nor down." And that was all Eleanor could get out of him.
Up and downstairs she trudged, looking in every room but no Ada was to be found. All over the garden she searched, but no Ada was there, but at last the child caught sight of something swinging from the garret window, and going closer, she saw Ada clad in her little nightgown and tied by the neck to a string which was suspended from a nail in the eaves. Upstairs Eleanor rushed, feeling as if she could not endure such treatment of her doll. She was in an agony of sympathy for poor Ada, but, try as she would, she could not grasp the string which hung just beyond her reach and could only be touched by standing on the ledge outside the window.
Eleanor was always desperately afraid to stand on high places, but her eagerness to gain possession of her doll, nerved her to climb out and stand upon the sill. She caught the string in one hand and with a dreadful feeling that Ada's body was thumping against the side of the house, she managed to climb in again and drew up the precious burden to find the doll a little scarred, but otherwise unhurt.
The child was now in such a nervous tremor that she felt her limbs shaking under her as she sank down on the garret floor giving vent to quick little sobs. "We won't stand it, Ada; we won't," she said. "We will run away, too. We will go with the butterman and find Sylvy and Bubbles. They love me better than these cousins." She had always been used to having negro servants about her and the idea of going to Sylvy did not affect her as it might have done a child not accustomed to being petted and coddled by a negro nursemaid.
"To-morrow the butterman comes again and we will hide somewhere, Ada, and go with him. I hope Bubbles found Sylvy. I haven't heard a word about her, but I hope she got there all right. I must write a note to Miss Reese, for she will wonder why I am not at school. I will mail it in the morning." The little inconsequent mind did not see any further troubles arising from her purpose, and she began to make her plans. "I will write to mamma and tell her I did not mean to be bad but that they made me so, and I'll tell her I am safe and that I am going to stay till she comes back," she told her doll. Then she tied up a little bundle of her own clothing, and put in what she considered proper apparel for Ada, and then she wrote her little note to Miss Reese:
"Dear Miss Reese:"I can't come to school because I am going away. I'm so miserble without mamma and nobody loves me. Ime not going because I dont like to go to school and plese excuse my lessons I will study very hard when mamma comes back"Affectionately yours"Eleanor Dallas."P.S.—I forgot to tell you ime going to stay with Sylvy and Bubbles."
"Dear Miss Reese:
"I can't come to school because I am going away. I'm so miserble without mamma and nobody loves me. Ime not going because I dont like to go to school and plese excuse my lessons I will study very hard when mamma comes back
"Affectionately yours"Eleanor Dallas.
"P.S.—I forgot to tell you ime going to stay with Sylvy and Bubbles."
She decided that she would go to school and at recess she would slip out and be on the corner when the butterman drove by. She would leave her bundle with old Mrs. Wills who kept a small shop near the school. She felt distressed at leaving her other dolls and Nyxy, her little black cat, but she laid the former carefully away in a drawer, after fondly kissing each smiling face, locked the drawer and took the key with her. Nyxy she knew would be well cared for. Jessie was devoted to him and the cook was fond of cats, and therefore with a soft whisper and a loving pat, Eleanor bade good-bye to her furry pet the next morning and started out alone. She did not often walk to school with her cousins nowadays, for Olive usually stopped for Janet Forrester and Jessie had a friend about her own age who called for her almost every morning, therefore Eleanor was not observed as she stepped out with her bundle and hurried along to Mrs. Wills before the others started.
Mrs. Wills cheerfully took charge of the bundle, patted Eleanor's shoulder and gave her a cocoanut cake. Her little shop was beginning to show Christmas wares and it gave Eleanor a pang to think that perhaps this year there would be no mamma on hand to plan delightful surprises. The tears gathered in her eyes as she went on to school, stopping to mail her letter to Miss Reese on the way.
She arrived quite early and found the schoolroom empty of every one except her teacher. Miss Reese looked up with a smile. "Good-morning, Eleanor," she said. "This is quite a frosty morning, isn't it? It promises cold weather soon. I suppose you are glad of that, for your mamma thought she would be home by Christmas, I remember."
"I'm afraid she won't be," returned Eleanor. "Papa wasn't so well when she last wrote."
"Oh, that's too bad. Never mind, you can have a good time with your cousins. It must be very lively for you to have so many playmates, after being the only child in the house."
Eleanor did not reply, but there was a quivering of her lips that told Miss Reese more than words could have done. "Did you come to school on your wheel?" Miss Reese asked, changing the subject.
"No, Miss Reese. Don has broken it. I hate Don."
"Why, my child."
"I do. I can't help it if I am wicked and selfish and—and deceitful, I just hate him," she said, going to her desk and hiding her face behind the lid as she raised it that Miss Reese might not see her tears. But just then in came a troop of girls and no more was said, although Miss Reese made a mental note of Eleanor's words.
At recess Eleanor asked permission to go to Mrs. Wills' little shop. This was often accorded the girls and consent was given to the child, who, however, waited till the last moment and then ran out, passing the girls returning from having made their purchases of sour balls or ginger cakes or buns.
"You'd better hurry up," said Laura Field; "the bell will ring in a minute."
Eleanor nodded in reply, and ran on, secured her bundle and hurried around the corner to overtake the butterman. But just as she reached the spot where she intended to wait for him she saw the white top of his wagon ahead of her, and she ran with all her might toward it, calling: "Mr. Snyder, Mr. Snyder, please wait for me," but his sleek brown horses trotted on and the child, breathlessly following, at last, dropped into a walk, but still determined to overtake him.
On and on she went up the hard country road where fewer and fewer houses were to be seen, and at last she saw the wagon turn into a lane, and outside the gate she sat down to wait till the butterman should come out again. She was very warm and tired and a cough which she had noticed for some days, began to trouble her more than before. The cold wind struck her and in a few minutes she was shivering, but she was not the less firm in her determination to go on to find Sylvy.
But as she sat there huddled up she heard a horse's hoofs come clattering along the road and she saw the flash of a scarlet jacket as a tiny Shetland pony came dashing along bearing as his rider a swarthy little girl, whose black tousled hair was tossed about by the wind. She drew rein as she saw Eleanor there and came cantering up to her. "What you doing?" she asked, slipping down from her pony and peering down with her bright eyes into Eleanor's face.
"I'm waiting for the butterman," answered Eleanor shyly.
"Wha' for?"
"'Cause I want him to take me along with him."
"I'll take you. Want to ride my pony? Come; there ain't no man coming."
Eleanor looked up toward the house before the gate of which she was waiting. "He's in there," she said.
The girl shook her black locks. "No, he's gone t'other way."
Eleanor looked distressed. "Are you sure?" she asked.
The girl nodded. "I'll take you. Come 'long. Tossi can take us both."
"Oh, no, he's too little."
The girl laughed. "He's very strong. No, it won't hurt him. He loves me and I don't let him be hurt." She flung her arms around the neck of the pony and kissed the white star on his forehead.
Eleanor at last consented to mount him, sitting behind the girl and holding fast to her as they dashed up the road. Once she asked breathlessly: "Do you know where the butterman lives? His name is Mr. Snyder."
"I knows him," returned her companion laughing, but she did not stop till they came in sight of a group of gaudy wagons.
"Oh!" cried Eleanor. "Those are gipsies."
The girl jumped down. "My people," she said with a wave of her hand.
"Are you a gipsy?" Eleanor was quite taken aback.
The girl nodded in reply, standing with one arm over the neck of her little pony.
"But I want to go to Mr. Snyder's," said Eleanor helplessly, all the stories she had ever heard of gipsies coming to her mind.
The girl led the pony slowly along toward the wagons and Eleanor could see that beyond them, in a small enclosure, were many horses, and that in some of the wagons, with their red and yellow adornings, were women and children. "Please don't go on," she said. "I don't want to go there."
"Wha' for?" again said the girl.
"I want to find Mr. Snyder."
"He your papa?"
"No."
"You live there?"
"No."
"Then wha' for?"
"I want him to take me somewhere. Perhaps you know where Sylvy Johnson lives. She is a colored woman. I would just as soon go to her house as to Mr. Snyder's."
The girl shook her head. "Don't know. We had a little nigger girl not long ago. She went to the orspital, my brodder say. She was hurted." Then she suddenly looked up saying: "I like you. I wish you'd stay and see my big brudder. He have anudder pony like this one; he'll let you ride on him."
At this moment one of the dark, queer-looking women came from one of the wagons toward them and Eleanor took affright. "Oh, no, please,—I am very much obliged to you for letting me ride your pony; he is a darling, but I am afraid to stay. I'm not afraid of you, for you are a very nice, kind little girl, but I do want to go. I am so tired, and—and—please."
"Come on." The girl swung herself upon the pony, and giving the pretty creature a slap with her hand she made him turn around and they were soon dashing down the road again to the spot where Eleanor had been first seen by the gipsy girl.
Eleanor got down and looked up the lane. "Does Mr. Snyder live in there?" she asked.
"Don't know."
"But you said you knew where he lived."
"No, I says I know him, an' so I does."
"But you said he had gone out another way."
"Maybe. I don't know. No, he's comin' now. I see his wagon top. I said that because I wanted you to come and see my brudder and me."
"Are you going to be at that place long?"
"Don't know. P'r'aps. You want to buy a pony? My brudder will sell you a good one cheap."
"I'd like to have one like yours. Isn't he a beauty? I always wanted to ride a little pony like this, and I am glad I could do it. Did your father give it to you?"
"No, I haven't got no fadder."
"Your mother then?"
"No," the girl shook her head. "I haven't got no mudder; my brudder give him to me. What you got in your bundle?"
"Some clothes and my doll named Ada."
"I got a doll too; her name is—what's your name?"
"Eleanor."
"Her name is Eleanor like you."
"What is your name?"
"Zula."
"I think that is a pretty name. I'll name my next doll that."
"Come and see me and I'll show you my doll. My brudder bought it for me. I like your ribbon on your hair. Give it to me."
Eleanor hesitated. She didn't like to refuse and yet she did not know whether it was exactly right to give it to her, but finally she did take it off, for she thought Zula had really been very kind. "Here," she said, "you may have it."
Zula tied it around her black tresses and laughed. "Here comes Snyder," she said, "good-bye." And jumping on her horse she was off like a flash.
Eleanor watched her red jacket out of sight and then said to herself, "I wish I had asked her more about that little colored girl. I wonder if she was a servant or what. I'm glad Bubbles don't have to go traveling around the country with gipsies. She'll be glad to see me, and so will Sylvy. What a long time Mr. Snyder has been at that house."