"'I think, when I read that sweet story of old,When Jesus was here among men,How he called little children as lambs to his fold,—I should like to have been with them then.'"
"'I think, when I read that sweet story of old,When Jesus was here among men,How he called little children as lambs to his fold,—I should like to have been with them then.'"
"That's nice,—so nice," said little Rosie, smiling. "Now I'll go to sleep, mamma."
Next day her little head was worse. Flaxie had begged Aunt Jane to take her all her pretty playthings; but the sick child did not care for them now. There were Flaxie's wee chairs and sofas andpictures to furnish her baby-house, and dishes to set her baby-table. Rosie did not like them now; but she knew shehadliked them when she was well.
"Mamma," said she, "shall I have playfings up in heaven?"
"Yes, dear: prettier ones than these."
"O, I am so glad. And, mamma, must I take my best dresses when I go up?—my blue one with the pretty wuffles, you know, and my little pinkbeautydress?"
"No, darling: God will give you nicer clothes than those to wear."
"Will he, mamma? O, that's very nice."
She lay quite still for a long time, and then called her mother to her bedside.
"Mamma, you 'member that sweet story you sung to me 'bout Jesus?"
"Yes, dear."
"And is it all truly true, mamma?"
"Yes: quite true, my child."
"Well, that's all I want to know, mamma," said the blessed baby; and then, with a happy smile, she pressed her cheek against the pillow, and dropped off to sleep.
They were glad of that, for they thought the rest would do her good; but, ah! she slept so long, so very long! A week went by, and still she had not waked. Then she opened her eyes, and faintly said, "Mamma, mamma."
Mamma bent over her, very happy to hear her sweet voice once more; and the child placed one of her little arms about her dear mother's neck, and so fell asleep again.
Dr. and Mrs. Gray watched beside her with sad mamma; for they knew now that little Rose was going away from them.
She woke at last; and, O, how happy she was! for she found herself in a beautiful world,—more beautiful than any thing she had ever dreamed of,—and Some One was holding her in His arms. She was sure it was the dear Jesus; and she nestled close to His breast, too happy to speak. Her mother could not see this; but sheknewthe Lord had taken little Rosie; and, though her heart was very sad, she looked up through her tears, and said,—
"It is well with the child."
But poor Flaxie! When they told her that little Rosie had gone away to play with the angels, she sobbed, bitterly,—
"O mamma, mamma, if I hadn't teased her,ifI only hadn't! And now God has taken her away; and I can't tell her I'm sorry!"
Ah, it was a sad, sad lesson to little Flaxie.
"I prayed as hard as I could, ever so long," wailed she. "God could have made her well if He had thought best; and then what a hugging I was going to give her! I wasn'tevergoing to plague her again!"
Weeks after this, Mrs. Gray saw Flaxie one day standing at the front door, with her hands clasped, looking straight upward into the sky.
"Dear God," she murmured, softly, "won't you please let me peek in a minute and see Rosie? If you can't let me peek in, won't you please tell Rosie I'm sorry?"
X.
PRESTON'S GOLD DOLLAR.
Myeyes are so full of tears, as I think of dear little Rose that I am going to talk now about something very different. I think I shall tell you of one of Preston's mishaps.
I am afraid when you read it you will say to yourself, "Well,heisn't much of a boy!" But please remember, he was hardly ten years old when the affair happened; and boys are not as wise as Solomon until they areat leasttwelve or thirteen.
Preston was doing Aunt Jane's errands for her that week; he did them one week and Bert the next.
"I wonder why Preston doesn't come," said Aunt Jane, stirring some medicine with a spoon, and speaking to Grandpa Pressy, who had come visiting again, and was sitting in the corner reading a newspaper.
Grandpa Pressy looked up with a pleasant smile, while the paper danced as if it would fly out of his hands; for he had palsy.
"Hark, Jane, there's his whistle, and he isn't generally far behind it."
In another moment the door opened, and in walked Preston, a bright, handsome boy, who did not look much like Flaxie, for he had dark eyes and black hair.
"Why, Preston," said Aunt Jane, patting his small face, "you'll be late to school. Here it is nine o'clock."
"Don't care if it's forty-nine. No school to-day."
"No school? O, it's Saturday; I forgot about that, and saved a turnover for you to take to school."
"Well, I'd like it all the same," said Preston, looking laughingly toward the cellar door. "Had breakfast a good while ago."
Aunt Jane smiled, which was a rare thing for her. She had been very sad since Rose died.
"Very well, dear. Run to the store; and, when you come back, you shall have the turnover and a piece of sage cheese with it. I don't know what I should do without you, now Bertie's gone to New Jersey."
"A dear good boy he is," thought Aunt Jane, as the little fellow disappeared with the gallon jug; and Grandpa Pressy, as if he had heard her thought, answered,—
"Yes, Preston is a dear good boy, Jane. His mother worries for fear he'll fall into bad company; but it's my opinion she is over-anxious. Preston will come out all right."
"O, yes, we all think so," responded Aunt Jane. "And who ever heard of such a child to do errands? He and Ninny are alike about that; they are both a great deal better than Lucy. Really, I've a great mind to make the boy a little present; now wouldn't you, grandpa? You know he does all these things for nothing."
"O, you wait. I've got just what he'll like," said Grandpa Pressy, putting his shaking hand into his pocket, and jerking out his leathern wallet,—"just what he'll like, Jane."
After a long and trembling search, during which the pieces of paper money rattledlike dry leaves, out flew a little gold dollar, and danced upon the floor.
"How that will please him!" said Aunt Jane. "I don't believe he ever saw one."
"Yes, I think it will please him, my dear. He's uncommonly good to his poor old grandpa; and I'm sure I don't grudge him a pretty little keepsake like this."
So, when Preston returned with the molasses, and had eaten his turnover and sage cheese, his eyes were feasted with a sight of the bit of gold.
"Why, grandpa,allthis for me?"
"Yes, my boy; and your mother'd better lay it away somewhere, and keep it till you are older."
"Yes, I'll ask her to; for Flaxie or Phil will be sure to get hold of it. But now I'm a-going to tie it up in the corner of my handkerchief, and put it in my pocket."
"That's a good way," said Aunt Jane.
"Good-bye, auntie, good-bye, grandpa. When you want any more molasses and things, I'm the boy to get 'em."
And off started Preston in gay spirits, sending a long, shrill whistle before him, and running to catch up with it. His first thought was to go home, and give the gold piece to his mother for safe keeping; but he lived half a mile down town, and it did seem too bad to spare the time from play.
"Hullo, Pres," called out a ringing voice, "what you smiling at down there?"
Preston stopped whistling, and looked up to see where the voice came from.
Tommy Winters was sitting on the bough of a horsechestnut-tree, eating gingerbread. Now Tommy was a naughty, reckless fellow, and Preston had been forbiddento play with him; but the sight of Tommy's face filled him with a vague longing, not for gingerbread, but for mischief.
There really was a bad charm about Tommy—when he fixed his "glittering eye" upon you, he made you think of all sorts of delightful things you'd like to do, only they were apt to be naughty things. Did you ever see a boy who had a bad charm?
"What you up to down there?" repeated Tommy, as Preston finished tying up the gold piece, and put it in his pocket.
"O, I'm up to lots o' things," replied Preston, gaily. "Don't you wish you knew what I've got in my handkerchief?"
Tommy didn't know of course; but he instantlyguessedthere was money in the handkerchief: he could see the hard knot,and he could see the smile on Preston's face; and Tommy was not a fool by any means.
"If that's money, I guess I can coax it out of him some way or other. Anyhow, I mean to get it, by hook or by crook," thought the bad boy.
But he pretended he didn't care two straws what was in the handkerchief. "Come," said he, "put your old rags in your pocket, and let's go swimming."
Now Preston had always longed to swim, chiefly, I suppose, because he didn't know how. It was a remarkably warm day in October; but the water was very cold: it was not proper for anybody to go into it; and both the boys knew this.
Preston looked up at Tommy; and that bad charm began to work. He saw a picture in his mind's eye of—
"A quiet nook in the running brook,Where the school-boys went to swim."
"A quiet nook in the running brook,Where the school-boys went to swim."
So, instead of running away, as he ought to have done, he kept staring up in the tree at Tommy, and said,—
"I can't go swimming; mother won't let me. But I should think you might come down here and give us a piece of your gingerbread."
Tommy dropped nimbly from the tree, and alighted on his head.
"What's that you say about your mother!"
"She won't let me go swimming."
"Won't let you?—of course not. Never heard of a woman that would. Women are always scared of the water."
"Father won't let me either."
"You don't say so. Here, take a bite of gingerbread."
Preston took a bite; but he saw Tommy was in earnest about swimming, and he caught himself by the left ear, as if that would keep him from going with him: yet, somehow, he felt as if heshouldgo, in spite of his fears.
"Look here, Tommy."
"Well, I'm looking."
"Now, Tommy Winters."
"Yes, that's my name."
"You know that brook—"
"Yes, guess so. Prime place down there under the willer-tree."
"But, Tommy, that was where my sister Flaxie got 'most drowned."
"'Twas high water then; it's low water now. 'Twouldn't drown a grass'per."
"But, Tommy,—"
"Well, Pres, what you 'fraid of?"
"Ain't afraid of any thing; but my mother says—"
"O, 'fraid o' your ma'am!"
"And my father says—"
"O, 'fraid o' your pa!"
"Well, they both say—"
"O, 'fraid o' both of 'em!"
"No; but you see, Tommy, they think—"
"I know what they think; they think you're a good-for-nothing girl-baby;" and Tommy made up such a face that Preston couldn't help laughing. It didn't hurt his feelings to haveTommycall him names; for he did it in the funniest, pleasantest way. O, Tommywasa very fascinating boy!
"Come along, you little tip-end of a top-o-my-thumb."
"Tell youno, Tommy."
Preston was pretty firm now.
"Give you Turkish bath, all for nothing, Pres."
"But I told you, Tommy—"
"No, you didn't; you haven't told me a thing. You stutter so I can't understand a word."
At the idea of his stuttering, Preston laughed outright; and, during that moment of weakness, was picked up and set astride Tommy's shoulders.
"You set me down," cried Preston, struggling manfully, yet a little glad, perhaps, to think he couldn't possibly help himself.
"Ride away, ride away,Prestonshall ride!" sang Tommy, the large, strong fellow, bouncing his burden up and down.
Preston felt like a dry leaf in a whirlpool. You know how it swings round and round; and, every time it swings, it gets nearer and nearer that hungry hole in the middle, where there is no getting out again.
"I can't help it, Ican'thelp it," thought little Preston, as big Tommy jolted him up and down like a bag of meal on horseback.
Well, it is good fun for little boys to go in swimming, I do suppose,—if their parents are willing, if they have somebody to hold them up, and if the water isn't too cold.
At first, Preston almost thought he was having good fun; but very soon it was any thing but that;—why, it was just frightful! for Tommy had actually gone off and left him, and snapped his fingers in his face. Preston couldn't swim any more than a fish-hook. What would become of him? WherewasTommy?
Tommy was on the bank, pretending to skip stones; but that was not what he had gone there for, I assure you. He had gone to look in Preston's pocket, and see whatwas tied up in the corner of his handkerchief.
"Why don't you come, Tommy? Tom-mee! I'm drow—drow—drowning!"
"O, you hush up! I'll come in a minute."
"Come now—ow—ow! Flaxie got drow—ow—owned!"
Tommy came when he got ready. And, as he swam back to Preston, there was something under his tongue, which was a very sweet morsel to him, and about the size of a gold dollar.
"Yousaid'twouldn't drown a grasshopper; but 'twould drown a man—with his hat on," gurgled little Preston, indignantly.
Tommy tickled him under the arms, but didn't seem to feel much like talking.
"There," said he, when they had comeout of the water, "now I'm going to dress you and send you home to your mother."
"Dressme? Poh, guess I can dress myself!"
"Well, you better hurry then," said Tommy. "What makes you so slow? Your mother'll go into spasms."
"My mother? Why, she don't know I've been swimming!"
"O, I forgot; well, run home!"
"Don't want to," said Preston, squeezing his hair; "want to play ball. Come on!"
"Can't," said Tom; "have to get some coal."
"Do they make you work Saturdays?"
"Yes, all day, like a dog," muttered Tom, taking to his heels.
Everybody knew that Tom never worked, so this was absurd. Preston ran after him, and caught him by the sleeve.
"Come, let's play ball!"
Tom shook him off as if he had been a cobweb.
"Can't play to-day. Got an awful sore throat, and earache and toothache."
And away he ran. Preston was left staring after him, and wondering why he hadn't spoken of his sufferings before.
"He's queer, Tommy is. Don't see what he wanted to go swimming for if he's sick. Thought I should 'a' froze!"
A guilty feeling was upon Preston, which made him shiver more than the cold.
"Wish my hair wasn't so thick. Can't go home till it dries."
He played about with some boys for an hour or two, then went home. The family were all seated at dinner, and Flaxie would not eat till he came.
"I've got something you'll want to see,Flaxie. Come out here and show yourself, sir." This to his handkerchief, which he whipped out of his pocket.
"What is it? I don't see any thing," said Flaxie.
"Why, where in the world? Why, what's this?" cried Preston, in dismay.
There was nothing in the end of the handkerchief, and the knot was untied.
"I tied it up in three knots, I know I did; and now where is it?"
"Where is what?" asked his mother.
"Why, my little gold dollar. Grandpa gave it to me this morning. You neversawany thing so cunning!"
"Are you sure you tied it hard?"
"Why, yes, indeed! I tied it so hard I had to hop up and down to get my breath! Three knots too!"
Dr. Gray looked up, and asked,—
"You haven't been with any bad boys, my son?"
Preston had forgotten the swimming, for the moment, and said,—
"O, no, sir; Eddie Potter and Jack Snow and those."
"They say Tommy Winters will steal; but of course you haven't been nearhim?"
Preston dropped his knife and fork suddenly, and blushed. His mother saw it; but his father did not, for he was hurrying out of the house to visit a patient.
All that afternoon poor Preston was in trouble. He told the boys about it, but nobody could help him; and, as for Tommy Winters, he was nowhere to be seen.
Finally, after tea, he stole up to his best friend, his mother, and exclaimed, shaking his fist,—
"Tommy Winters has got my gold dollar,mamma. Tell you what, he stole it out of my pocket when I was swimming."
"Swimming, Preston?"
"Yes'm: you see he made me go."
"Madeyou, my son?"
Preston hung his head.
"Well, he marched me down to the brook, he did."
"He didn't throw you in?"
"Not ed-zackly."
"Then you went in yourself?"
"Yes, mamma; but, O, I won't do so again."
Mrs. Gray looked very sober. She was not thinking of the gold dollar, but of her son's disobedience.
"I'm sure he stole it, mamma; and now he has run off, and nobody can find him."
"Very likely," said Mrs. Gray.
"O mamma, won't you make him give back my gold dollar?"
"Do you deserve it, my son?"
"Well, but grandpa gave it to me."
"I'll talk with your father about it."
"O, don't talk with father: he'll think just whatyouthink," cried Preston, in alarm.
His mother did not answer; and he ran out to the stable, threw himself into a bed of hay, and tried his best to hate her.
"She'll tell him I disobeyed, and he'll say, 'Good enough for him, then!'"
Dr. Gray did say exactly these words; still, he tried to make Tommy confess and give up the stolen gold. Do you suppose Tommy confessed?
O, no: he looked the doctor right in the eye, and said,—
"Whatisa gold dollar? I never heard of such a thing in my life!"
Preston never set eyes on his treasureagain; but I suppose it has done him more good, after all, than a hundred gold dollars at compound interest for a hundred years.
You know why. It made him remember to keep out of bad company.
XI.
PRESTON KEEPING HOUSE.
NowI should not have told this bad story about Preston if I had not had a better one to tell after it, "to take the taste out," as Flaxie said about the orange.
Grandpa Pressy went home a little while after this, and took Ninny with him, because he was not very well, and wanted her to amuse him; but nobody felt alarmed about him, till, one day at noon, a message came for Dr. and Mrs. Gray, that he was very ill.
As it happened, Dora Whalen had gone away that morning in the cars to spendthe day in Jersey City; and there was no one to take charge of the house.
"Just as ifIcouldn't do it," said Preston.
"Now, my son, do you really think you can be trusted?" said Mrs. Gray. "Will you watch Flaxie carefully, and keep her out of mischief? I don't want to take her to Aunt Jane's; for, if I take the baby there, that will be quite enough."
"Poh, yes'm: guess I'm ten years old!"
"Dora won't be back till the last train. Are you sure you won't be afraid to be left all alone in the house after dark, you two little folks?"
"Yes'm, certain sure. What are you smiling for, mother? To think you've got a boy that's smart enough to keep house?"
"Well, yes, it does make me happy to see my son so ready to please his father and mother."
Then she hesitated a moment, turned to her husband, and said,—
"If we only knew justhowsick grandpa is, perhaps we could wait till to-morrow."
"They would not have telegraphed if they had not needed us," said Dr. Gray, decidedly.
"Yes, yes, I suppose you are right," said Mrs. Gray, looking thoughtful, as she put on her bonnet before the glass. "There, baby and I are ready. Have you charged Preston about locking up the house?"
"Yes; and Preston, my son, you must spend the evening in the kitchen: it won't do to have a fire in the sitting-room till Dora comes. And don't put a stick of wood in the stove after seven o'clock. Can you remember?"
"Yes, sir."
"You'd better both go to bed by eight,"said Mrs. Gray. "Dora has a night-key, and can let herself in."
"O mother, mayn't I sit up till nine? I want to copy off mycompersition."
"Well, yes, if Flaxie is willing, and it isn't too cold in the kitchen. But don't forget to tuck her into her little crib by eight. I've moved it close to my bed, where you are to sleep."
"And is Preston goin' to sleep in the downstairs room? O, goody!" cried Flaxie, crushing her mother's bonnet with a parting hug.
"Yes, darling; and you'll find your supper of baked apples and milk on the table, covered with a napkin, and something nice beside, I won't say what."
"I know—squinch-perserve," said Flaxie.
"Good-bye till to-morrow, my precious children. Don't give Dodo any trouble;and, Preston, don't forget what father said about the fires."
It wasn't likely Preston would forget. He was one of those slow-brained, faithful little fellows, who can't learn a spelling-lesson, but who are pretty much at home with every thing except books.
"He was always so different from Flaxie. We shall never be able to leave Flaxie in charge of any thing; you might as well set a squirrel to watch a weasel," said Dr. Gray.
"I know it," replied his wife; "but I never saw a child six years old thatcouldtake charge of any thing, did you?"
Flaxie began to call for her supper the moment her father and mother and little Phil were out of sight.
"'Cause there's queam-cakes, too, I saw 'em. And then I guess I'd better go see Lucy; she's spectin' me."
"No,ma'am, Flaxie Frizzle," said Preston, firmly. "You're not going further than the weeping-willow this day; and I shan't let you do that if you don't behave."
The new tone of command rather awed little Miss Frizzle; and, to Preston's surprise, she began to cry.
"I want to go to heaven," said she, throwing the kitten angrily across the room. "I've got tired o' waitin' to go to heaven."
Preston could not help laughing; for Flaxie looked very, very little like an angel.
"God won't let me peek in, and he won't take me up there," went on the child, sulkily. "You needn't laugh, Preston; you don't know what I want to do. I've got sumpin' for Rosa, and I want to carry it to her."
"Why, Rosa is dead."
"No; she's in heaven. Here's sumpin' Iwant her to have," said Flaxie, opening a little box, and displaying a China lamb. "I'tendedit for her, and I'm'terminedshe shall have it."
Flaxie was crying still, but her anger was gone; she was crying for dear little Rosa.
"Won't you let me go and carry the lamb to Rosa?"
"Why, where do you want to go?"
"O, I want to go and put it side o' the flowers," replied Flaxie.
"Well, I'll go with you; only you act very queer, Flaxie."
He gave his little sister his hand; and she led him along Elm Street and up the hill to the cemetery.
"O, is that what you mean?" said he.
"Yes," replied Flaxie, kneeling and placing the white lamb on Rosa's grave, along with the myrtles and evergreens thathad just been planted there. "That's foryou, Rosa! I 'tended it for you, when you's sick, and I'm 'termined you shall have it."
"How will she get it up in heaven?" asked Preston, in a whisper.
"I don' know. God will see 'bout it. Isn't it abeau-ful little lamb?"
"O, yes."
"Well, I was cross to Rosa; and now I've made it all up," said Flaxie, skipping out of the burying-ground with a very light heart, while her brother followed her in silence.
Next minute she was laughing.
"O, I want to see your new steam-nengine, Preston! May I, if I won't do any thing naughty?"
"Yes."
"And will you gi' me lots o'cardinnumseeds?"
"Yes."
"Then I'll bejustas good," said Miss Flaxie.
At precisely seven o'clock, Preston put a large stick of wood in the kitchen stove; and, as little sister had been very obedient, he lighted the alcohol lamp in his steam-engine, and set the pretty machine puffing across the floor like a thing alive. Miss Frizzle, having eaten two suppers, was in a very quiet mood, and threw herself on her knees beside Preston, with her chin upon his shoulder, to watch the wonderful plaything.
"I'll tell you what it is, Flaxie," said Preston, with an air of wisdom that was not lost upon his listener; "I know how this engine is put together as well as father does; and I'll bet you I could make one, if I only had the tools, and knew how to use em!"
"S'pose you could, honest?"
"Yes, to be sure. There, Flaxie, the clock is striking eight. Now you'll have to go to bed."
Flaxie's forehead began to pucker, and her elbows to jerk.
"Then you must go, too, Pres Gray."
"O, but I want to fix up my compersition, so I can play Saturday. Come, now, if you'll go to bed first, I'll give you all my fire-crackers."
Miss Frizzle's brows smoothed.
"And the pin-wheels too? Fire-crackers isn't much."
"Ye-es; and the pin-wheels too. I'll fire 'em for you. Only you'll have to go to bed as quick as scat, or I'll take it all back."
Flaxie went; but, as for lying still, that wasn't in the bargain. "Water! water!"called she, when snugly tucked in. "Please bring me some water, Preston, or I shall dry to death."
Preston had seated himself at his work, and copied off in staring letters about three lines:—
"APPLES."
"Apples is the most frout always yoused. Apples is said to grow in almost any country."
His arm ached already.
"There," said he, carrying Flaxie a mug of water. "And you just lie still, little sister. If you speak again, it will cost you a pin-wheel."
Then he went on, with great labor.
"In some climates it is so warm it is said they have been discovered by the crab-apples; they was some men got the seed from the crab-apple, and planted it."
"Pres-tun!" cried Flaxie again. "You may takeonepin-wheel. I've got to speak, 'cause itunsleepsme not to have you come to bed. Justonepin-wheel. So, there!"
"Yes, yes," said Preston; "I'll be there in just sixteen minutes, if you don't speak again."
"Some takes the apples, and makes cider of them. Old cider is yoused for vinegar.
"Preston S. Gray."
This ended the "compersition;" but, in Preston's haste to keep his word and get to bed in just sixteen minutes, he made a mistake, and wrote on the back of it, "Potatoes."
He smiled to see Flaxie sound asleep already, then knelt down, and prayed, "Now I lay me," with a very solemn feeling. The house seemed strangely quiet. Where could Dodo be? Preston had heard the last train rush by a half-hour before.
"I think Godwillbe sure to take care of me to-night, so I can take care of Flaxie," thought he, creeping into bed. "He must know father and mother have gone off, and Flaxie isn't much more'n a baby." And, with that, he fell asleep, holding little sister by the hand.
About midnight, he was wakened by the smell of smoke. If he had not been downstairs, and if he had not felt, even in sleep, the care of the house, I dare say he would not have waked. "What's this? Why, what is it?" thought he, raising himself on his elbow, and sniffing.
The bedroom opened out of the sitting-room, and the kitchen was just beyond. That was where the smoke must come from; for it was the only room that had a fire in it.
Preston rose softly, and went into the kitchen. It was on fire!
Probably some coals had fallen out of the stove door when the last stick was put in, and had been smouldering on the floor ever since. Now the floor, the sink, the drop-table, and the sitting-room door were in flames.
What should be done?
Preston reflected. He could not write a very deep "compersition;" but he was just the boy to have his wits about him when they were needed.
"The first thing is to get Flaxie out of the house," thought he. "The flames are spreading to the bedroom."
In a twinkling he had her in his arms, rolled her in a shawl, and set her on the front door-stone.
"Don't cry, Ducky Dilver," said he, locking her out. "I'll come after you if you'll be good."
Then, leaving the sleepy child sobbing in utter bewilderment, Preston rushed back, and dipped water from the barrel to put out the flames.
It was a hard fight for a small boy. He could not help wondering at himself to feel how strong he was. Pailful after pailful he dashed on; and, when the barrel gave out, he turned to the pump in the sink. Ah, but the sink door was ablaze! As fast as the fire was quenched in one place, it broke out in another; but Preston mastered it after awhile.
"O, if it hadn't been for my nose," thought the brave little boy, wading across the floor; "if ithadn'tbeen for my nose! Wonder if the fire has struck through to the cellar?"
It had not; but there seemed to be a smoky smell down there; and our hero went down boldly, and dashed water uponthe ceiling, never minding that it ran back and wet him all over.
Quite satisfied at last that all was right, he went to the front door, and let in tearful little Flaxie.
"What'd you put me out for? Say, what'd you put me out for?"
"So I could put out the fire, you little, good-for-nothing baby," replied Preston, kissing her tenderly. "What if you'd burnt up, and I'd burnt up, too, Flaxie? I guess 'twould have been the last time mother'd have leftusto keep house!"
And, when Dodo got home next morning, she found them fast asleep with the sun full in their eyes. "To think I should have missed the train last night for the first time in all my life," sobbed the faithful creature, on hearing the story. "If any harm had come to you children, I never could have forgiven myself."
XII.
MRS. PRIM'S STRAWBERRIES.
Thenext summer after this, when Flaxie was "going on seven years old," she and sister Ninny and Lucy Abbott made a bargain with Mrs. Prim to pick strawberries for her at three cents a box. They were glad to do it, for they were saving money to buy a pretty white vase for Rosa's grave; and they wanted to earn it all themselves. Flaxie thought she helped as much as anybody; but, the truth was, she spent half the time talking and picking the dirt out of her shoes.
Now, though Mrs. Prim lived in a beautifullarge house, and had the finest grounds in town, the children did not like her very well: they considered her cross.
And, just here I must tell you what a time they had with her one day about the strawberries. It was a very warm morning; and they were all three stooping over the vines in the garden, with a great yellow basket before them.
"What a blazing hot sun," groaned Lucy, from the depths of her speckled shaker.
"O, dear, yes," responded Ninny; "and only three cents a box for picking!"
"I feel the sun on the end o' my nose," said Flaxie.
Just then a man went by, chanting musically,—
"'The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in greenpastures: He leadeth me beside the still waters.'"
"How nice and cool that sounds," said Ninny, wiping her forehead.
"Wholied down in the pasture, Ninny?"
"David."
"Was David a cow?"
"O, what a silly child," cried Lucy.
"I wasn't talking toyou, I was talking to Ninny," said Flaxie.
"Well, Flaxie, but you made fun of the Holy Bible!" exclaimed Lucy, shaking her head.
"I didn't either!"
"I don't believe you know what 'holy' means," persisted Lucy.
"Yes, I do; it means the whole of it. They call it the wholly Bible, because it's thewholeof the Bible."
"Did you ever, ever see such a goosie?" laughed Lucy, provokingly.
"Now hush, children; it's too hot for you to be scolding," said Ninny.
"Yes: O, dear, it's the hottest day I ever saw. I should think the sun would melt and drop right down out of the sky," said Lucy. "And there's Mrs. Prim,shedon't care: she's in her nice, cool parlor, with the blinds all shut."
"Eating i-scream, I s'pose," put in Flaxie.
"Yes," said Lucy; "and gets fifty cents a box for these strawberries, and wouldn't give us more'n three cents if we should faint to pieces out here and be picked up dead."
"What awful scolds you children are," said Ninny, who kept up her spirits by laughing at them.
"Well, she did have some i-scream last night," said little Flaxie; "for I saw herthrough the door. Why didn't she say, 'Come in, dear, andyoumay have some?'Mymamma would. My mamma's a great deal better'n Mrs. Prim."
"O, well, lots of folks are better than Mrs. Prim," said Ninny, growing earnest. "Now, there's Mrs. Stillman; if she didn't live so far off we could pick forher. Why once she gave Eva Snow all she got on three boxes, and told her to keep it, for it was hard work to pick in such a broiling sun. Eva took the money, and bought her mother a great piece of salmon."
"O, my," cried Lucy; "why don't we take some of the money Mr. Potter pays us, and not give it to Mrs. Prim? I'd like to buymymamma a great big piece of—something."
Thus spoke the rattle-brained child, with a heedless jerk of her elbow, which almost upset the basket.
"Why, Lucy Abbott!" whispered Ninny; "was that you stepping just behind me?"
"Behind you? No: why, I'm right here."
"But I heard somebody," said Ninny, pushing back her shaker and looking around nervously.
Yes; and there, not far off, was Mrs. Prim, walking beside a row of currant-bushes. Could she be the one whose steps Ninny had just heard on the gravel path close by her side?
"Lucy," she whispered again, as the lady's figure disappeared behind a syringa-tree. "Lucy Abbott, she was right here a minute ago; and she must have heard what you said."
"Did she? What'd I say?"
"Don't you know, child, you asked me why I didn't steal some money? That'sjustwhat you said!"
Lucy only laughed, and little Flaxie pulled a pebble out of her shoe. Lucy and Flaxie were thoughtless children; they never took things to heart as Ninny did; and, as for that little speech, what if Mrs. Primhadheard it, wouldn't she know Lucy was in fun?
But, when they went into the house, Lucy remembered what she had said; and her face was crimson. Somehow she could not raise her eyes for shame.
"Move your chairs up to the drop-table," said Mrs. Prim, "and help me take off the hulls."
That was what she always said; but Ninny fancied that her voice was sharper than usual. They all three hulled in silence (Flaxie was not allowed near the table); and then Mrs. Prim herself took the berries off the large white platters andarranged them in the boxes: she never let the children do that; and Ninny always observed that she was very sure to put the largest berries on top.
"They are unusually nice to-day," said Mrs. Prim, as she placed the boxes carefully in a market-basket, and gave the basket to the little girls; "and you may tell Mr. Potter that I expect half a dollar a box for them, and am not willing to take a cent less."
"Yes'm," murmured Flaxie, as Lucy and Ninny trudged off down the dusty street, with the basket between them.
Mr. Potter was in a very pleasant mood, called them nice little girls, gave them all three some candy, and said he was perfectly willing to pay fifty cents for such strawberries as theirs. He took the eight boxes out of the market-basket, and, intheir places, put back eight empty ones; then gave Ninny a two-dollar bill for Mrs. Prim.
When they returned to Mrs. Prim's, there was no one at home but Kitty Maloney.
"The money is in one of those boxes, Kitty," said Ninny.
But Kitty did not hear; for she was just opening the oven door to look at the Sunderland pudding.
The children loitered along toward home. The sun was cooling his face behind a cloud, and there was really some comfort now in walking. Ninny forgot Lucy's unlucky speech in the garden, and only thought how glad she should be for some dinner.
In the afternoon, the sun came out of the cloud, and finished ripening some more strawberries; and, next morning, Ninny,Lucy, and Flaxie were again in the beautiful garden, picking into the same yellow basket. Afterward, they sat with Mrs. Prim beside the drop-table, and helped hull the berries as usual.
"Wait a moment," said the sharp-voiced lady, as they were about to start off with the market-basket and the eight nice boxes. "Wait a moment. Where is the money Mr. Potter sent me yesterday?"
"Kate took it, ma'am," said Ninny; "it was in one of the boxes."
"No, mum, I niver," spoke up Kitty, turning round with a plate of fish in her hand. "Nothing was niver said tomeabout money, mum. I jist takes the boxes out of the basket, and sets 'em in a row on the pantry shelf, as ye bids me; but it's the first that iver I heerd about money."
"What does this mean?" said Mrs.Prim, turning round, and giving Lucy a severe look. "Are you sure Mr. Potter paid you yesterday?"
"O, yes, ma'am: as sure as can be."
And Flaxie struck in with her favorite ditty,—
"O, yes'm: serious, truly, black and bluely; forIsaw him do it."
"Kate, you may go up to the store, and find out what this means," said Mrs. Prim, without paying the least attention to Flaxie. She had perfect faith in Kitty; and well she might; for the girl had lived with her fifteen years, and never told her a lie. But what had become of the money? It was certainly a pretty serious question.
Kitty went to the store, and came back, saying Mr. Potter had given the two dollars to the children.
"Yes, yes," said Mrs. Prim, looking at Ninny and then at Lucy; "yes, yes."
That was all she said; but the girls felt themselves trembling from head to foot.
"I don't know what's become of it then," murmured Ninny, twisting her handkerchief.
"Nor I don't," said Lucy.
"Nor me, neither," said Flaxie.
"Yes, yes," repeated Mrs. Prim, looking at Lucy again, and then at Ninny.
Ninny could bear it no longer, but rushed out of the kitchen door, crying, followed by Lucy and Flaxie, who tried to cry, too, but hardly knew what was the matter.
"O mamma, mamma," cried Ninny, throwing herself on her mother's neck the moment she got home; "I want you to go with me right straight to Aunt JaneAbbott's; for Mrs. Prim will come there to tell an awful story about us."
"Why, child, I can't understand you," said Mrs. Gray, kissing Ninny's hot cheeks. "What awful story can she tell about my dear little daughter?"
"O, come quick, mamma. She'll go to Aunt Jane's. She wouldn't dare come here, for papa wouldn't let her talk so; but she'll go to Aunt Jane's, for she thinks—she thinks—we've stolen some money."
Mrs. Gray did not wait for any thing more, but went at once with the children to Mrs. Abbott's.
There all three of the little girls talked so fast that Aunt Jane could hardly understand them.
"The money was in one of the boxes," said Ninny.
"Mr. Potter gave it to Ninny," said Lucy.
"And a stick of candy, too," cried Flaxie.
"And now Mr. Potter thinks we stole the money. He thinks so in his heart," wailed Ninny. "Mr. Potter, that always liked us, and was going to take Lucy in his carriage to New York to see a vase he thought would be pretty for Rose."
In the midst of this talk, there was a quick, decided ring at the door-bell; and, next moment, Mrs. Prim walked in.
"I wish you'd tell me what this means," said Mrs. Abbott, so bewildered that she forgot to say, "How do you do?"
"Ask your little daughter what it means," replied Mrs. Prim, throwing her head back. She was a very straight, tall woman; and, when she did throw her head back, you felt a little afraid of her.
Mrs. Gray took a seat by the window, and said nothing.
"Is it about some money?" asked Mrs. Abbott.
"Yes," said Mrs. Prim, "itisabout some money. I suppose you can't believe a word against Lucy; but I must tell you what has happened.
"Yesterday morning, as I went into the garden to pick a few flowers, I overheard these three children talking together about me. They were not speaking in a very pleasant tone; but I shouldn't have minded that if one of them—and I am very sure it was Lucy—hadn't said,—
"'O, my, why don'twetake some of the money Mr. Potter pays us for the berries, and keep it ourselves?'"
"Mrs. Prim!" cried Mrs. Abbott, her face turning very white.
"O mamma, I said it in fun; of course I said it in fun!" exclaimed poor littleLucy, running about the room, and crying.
"In fun," echoed Mrs. Prim. "It didn't sound very funny to me; especially when you did keep the money, and then told me you had given it to Kitty."
"We certainly gave it to Kitty," said Ninny, clasping her hands together. "We certainly did!"
"Serious, truly, black and bluely," put in Miss Frizzle.
Mrs. Abbott was too excited to speak. She was a good Christian, and meant to be patient; but she was entirely sure these little girls were innocent; and she thought Mrs. Prim was very unkind and unjust to come to her house and talk in this way.
At last she said quietly, looking straight at the stern lady,—
"Please remember, Mrs. Prim, Lucy is my own little daughter. It seems to meyou ought to be very sure you are right before you tell a mother that her daughter willsteal!"
Mrs. Prim's face softened a little.
"I am sorry to hurt your feelings, Mrs. Abbott," said she. "Everybody knows you are a high-minded, good woman; but I always thought you were rather too easy with your children: you don't know how Bert and Lucy behave when they are out of your sight; and I felt itmy dutyto come and tell you about this! I—"
"O! O! O!" struck in Flaxie, distressed by the sad faces around her; "I wish I's dead! I wish we's all dead and gone to heaven!"
Of course Flaxie's tears were of no more consequence than so much rain-water; but her mother had to take her in her arms and soothe her, while Aunt Jane answered Mrs. Prim.
"This is a very strange affair, and I can't understand it; but, as for thinking my little Lucy wouldsteal, why, you know Mrs. Prim, I can't for one moment believe it!"
"Well, to be sure, I don't much wonder you can't. I shouldn't believe it myself, I dare say, if I were you. But then, Mrs. Abbott, you must confess things do look very dark," said Mrs. Prim.
"Darker things than this have been cleared up," said Mrs. Abbott.
Then Mrs. Gray thoughtshewould speak.
"Well, suppose we wait awhile, and don't mention this to anybody, and see what happens, Mrs. Prim?"
"I will wait a week, if you wish it," answered Mrs. Prim, rising to go; "and, at the end of that time, I shall expect theselittle girls to tell us the truth about this money."
Mrs. Prim did not mean to be unkind, but she was always sure she was right; she never thought she could make mistakes. As she walked in at her own gate, Kitty Maloney met her at the front door.
"Sure, mum, it's me that's glad you've got back," cried she, with a spoon in one hand and a strawberry-box in the other. "Mr. Potter jist sent up this box, and the money was in it all right."
She held up the spoon, and there was a two-dollar bill in it, dripping with red juice.
Mrs. Prim stared at it.
"It's yours, mum! Mr. Snow's folks got some of your strawb'ries, yesterday; and, when they turns 'em out in a dish for dinner, they sees this money a-laying under 'em, all soaked with the rid."
"So itWASin the box, after all; and the children did give it to you," said Mrs. Prim, feeling dreadfully ashamed.
"Yes, mum, I knew the nice children wouldn't lie. You see, mum, you must have done the mischief yourself; you must have went and put your strawb'ries in this box this morning, right a-top of the money, mum, and niver seen it!"
Mrs. Prim understood it all now. Yes, it must be so. Her spectacles had been troubling her lately, and she had opened the box without seeing the money!
As I have said, Mrs. Prim was dreadfully ashamed; but she was a woman who meant to do right; so she did not wait to take her bonnet off, but walked right back to Mrs. Abbott's, and showed her the red two-dollar bill—the most beautiful scrap of money that ever was seen! Mrs. Abbott could have kissed it for joy.
"Lucy must have it; I want Lucy to keep it and try to forgive me," said Mrs. Prim; and she actually had tears in her eyes.
But, as Mrs. Abbott would not allow her daughter to keep it, Mrs. Prim resolved to make the children all a present. She begged some of little Rosie's hair, and went to New York that very afternoon and bought three gold lockets, one for each of the girls.
So it all ended very pleasantly, after all; and this is as good a place as any to make an end of our book.