The Project Gutenberg eBook ofDoctor PapaThis ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this ebook or online atwww.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook.Title: Doctor PapaAuthor: Sophie MayIllustrator: Lizbeth Bullock HumphreyRelease date: April 6, 2015 [eBook #48648]Most recently updated: October 24, 2024Language: EnglishCredits: Produced by Chris Whitehead and the Online DistributedProofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file wasproduced from images generously made available by TheInternet Archive)*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DOCTOR PAPA ***
This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this ebook or online atwww.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook.
Title: Doctor PapaAuthor: Sophie MayIllustrator: Lizbeth Bullock HumphreyRelease date: April 6, 2015 [eBook #48648]Most recently updated: October 24, 2024Language: EnglishCredits: Produced by Chris Whitehead and the Online DistributedProofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file wasproduced from images generously made available by TheInternet Archive)
Title: Doctor Papa
Author: Sophie MayIllustrator: Lizbeth Bullock Humphrey
Author: Sophie May
Illustrator: Lizbeth Bullock Humphrey
Release date: April 6, 2015 [eBook #48648]Most recently updated: October 24, 2024
Language: English
Credits: Produced by Chris Whitehead and the Online DistributedProofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file wasproduced from images generously made available by TheInternet Archive)
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DOCTOR PAPA ***
The cover image was restored by the transcriber and is placed in the public domain.
The cover image was restored by the transcriber and is placed in the public domain.
The cover image was restored by the transcriber and is placed in the public domain.
Any volume sold separately.
DOTTY DIMPLE SERIES.Six volumes. Illustrated.
Per vol., 75 cents.
FLAXIE FRIZZLE STORIES.Illust. Per vol., 75 cts.
(Others in preparation.)
LITTLE PRUDY STORIES.Six vols. Handsomely
Illustrated. Per vol., 75 cts.
LITTLE PRUDY'S FLYAWAY SERIES.Six vols.
Illustrated. Per vol., 75 cts.
LEE AND SHEPARD,Publishers, Boston.
"I'm a Doctor's Chillen; they won't bite me," said Flaxie. Page 11.
"I'm a Doctor's Chillen; they won't bite me," said Flaxie.Page 11.
Flaxie Frizzle Stories. Doctor Papa by Sophie May. Illustrated.
Title page for Doctor Papa
COPYRIGHT,
1877,
BY LEE AND SHEPARD.
I.
Onemorning little Miss Frizzle danced about her brother Preston, as he was starting for school, saying,—
"If a little boy had one poggit full o' pinnuts, and one poggit full o' canny, and one in his hands, how many would he be?"
This was a question in arithmetic; and, though Preston was a large boy, he could not answer it.
"Answer it yourself," said he, laughing.
"He'd have fousands and fousands—as many asfour hundred!" said Flaxie, promptly.
"Shouldn't wonder! What's the need of my going to school, when I have a little sister at home that knows so much?" cried Preston, kissing her and hurrying away.
Flaxie wished he and her sister Julia—or Ninny, as she called her—could stay with her all the time. She was lonesome when they were both gone; and to-day her mamma said she must not go out of doors because her throat was sore.
She stood for awhile by the kitchen window, looking at the meadow behind the house. It was sprinkled all over with dandelions, so bright and gay that Flaxie fancied they were laughing.Theydidn't have sore throats. O, no! they could stayout of doors all day long; and so could the pretty brook; and so could the dog Rover; and the horses, Whiz and Slowboy; and the two young colts.
By-and-by the colts came to the kitchen window, which was open, and put in their noses to ask for something to eat. Flaxie gave them pieces of bread, which Dora handed her; and they ate them, then ran out their tongues and licked the window-sill, to be sure to get all the crumbs.
"What if they should bite you!" said Dora.
"O, they won't! I'm a doctor's chillen; they won't biteme," said Flaxie, who was never afraid of any thing or anybody.
"Well, you mustn't keep that window open any longer. You'll get cold, if youarea doctor's children," said Dora. "Run into the parlor to your mother. Why, you haven't seen her for an hour."
Flaxie was not at all anxious to see her mother, but ran into the parlor and called for a slate and pencil. Mrs. Gray gave them to her; and Flaxie drew pictures for ten minutes,—such pictures! Then the squeaking stopped, and she began to cry.
"What is it, darling?" said mamma.
"I've losted mypessle," sobbed Flaxie.
"O, well, I'll get you another. Don't cry."
"I've losted itup my nose," screamed the child, running to her mother in great distress.
It was true. The pencil was a very short one; and, in poking it into her nose, just for fun, she had pushed it too far, and it would not come out. Mrs. Gray tried her very best; but the harder she tried the further up went the pencil, and the more Flaxie's nose bled and swelled. It wasgrowing worse every minute; and Mrs. Gray, not knowing what else to do, called Dora from the kitchen and sent her for "Dr. Papa."
When Flaxie knew her father was sent for, she cried louder than ever; for she thought she must be dreadfully hurt.
"Is I a-goin' to die?" said she. "I wouldn't die for fi-ive dollars!"
"No, indeed, pet, you won't die. Dr. Papa will make you all well in two minutes."
"Will he? O, dear, my nose issosick! Kiss it, mamma!"
Mamma kissed the poor purple little nose, which helped Flaxie very much; but she burst out afresh, next moment. "How bad Dr. Papa'll feel when he comes home!"
Her mother soothed her; but soon she fell to crying again.
"HowNinny'll feel whenshecomes home!"
Mrs. Gray comforted her for this with more kisses; but presently Flaxie sobbed out once more,—
"HowPessonwill feel whenhecomes home!"
For the child truly believed her friends would grieve more about it than she did.
Dr. Papa hurried to his darling as fast as he could; but, by the time he got home, her nose was badly swelled, and he had to hurt her very much in order to get out the "pessle." When it was all over, he took her on his knee, and tried to make her forget her troubles by showing her some pictures.
"The man in this picture is a school-teacher," said he; "and the little boy who stands by his desk must have been naughty,for the teacher is going to whip him with that stick."
"Goin' to w'ip him? Well, I'll wait andseeif he w'ips him," said Flaxie, folding her hands and staring at the picture with all her might.
Dr. Papa laughed. He often laughed at what Flaxie said; and Mrs. Prim, a lady who lived in town, thought he "spoiled her." Perhaps he did.
"O, see the pretty chickies," said the child, as her father turned to another picture. "Does God make chickies?"
"Certainly."
"Well," said she, thoughtfully, "how they must haveholleredwhen he stuck the fedders in!"
I must confess Dr. Papa laughed again. Then he put Flaxie down, and said he must go, though she held him by the vest-buttons,and declared the next picture would be "awful funny."
"How do you know?"
"O, Iguessit will!"
"Well, dear, if it's ever so funny, Dr. Papa will have to go, for a sick lady wants to see him."
"Did the lady get a pessle uphernose?"
"No, she didn't; but she is very sick for all that. Good-by, pet."
As Dr. Gray went out of the yard, he said to his stable-boy,—
"Crawford, I think the crows are getting too much of that corn we planted. Can't you put up a scarecrow?"
Crawford thought he could, and went into the house to ask Dora for some old clothes.
"I'll tell you what you'd better do, Crawford," said Dora. "Make alittlescarecrow, and dress it up like Flaxie Frizzle. I'll get you some of her old clothes."
"That's just the thing," replied Crawford. "Give me her red hood and waterproof, and I'll stuff 'em out with hay. O, my, won't the crows be scared?"
Crawford chuckled to himself all the while he was making this little image; and, when it was done, he carried it out to the corn-field, and fastened it upon a stump.
"Well, it does look exactly like her, and the crows won't know the difference," said he: "only she couldn't keep still to save her life. Guess I'll pin on a veil or something to blow in the wind, as if she was moving."
Dora gave him an old red scarf; and it certainly did make the image look very much as if it were alive. People who rode by turned to gaze at it, and said,—
"There's the doctor's baby. I'm glad her mother has wrapped her up so well: it's pretty cold weather for this time of year."
But you must know Flaxie Frizzle was surprised whenshesaw the scarecrow! She had climbed the sofa, and was looking out of the window. What did she see, standing there in the corn-field? It was her own self! She rubbed her eyes, and looked again.
"O mamma, mamma," called she. "Come herejustas kick! You s'pose, mamma, who's playingcoopout there? It's ME! Andhere'sME, right here! Have I got a little sister?"
It was some time before she could be made to understand that the scarecrow was not herself, was not alive, and was only a rag-baby made of sticks and straw and old clothes. The next day it rained frommorning till night; and everybody who went by the house thought it too bad that poor Flaxie Frizzle should be in the corn-field, getting so wet.
At least a dozen times the door-bell rang; and a dozen people told Dora to be sure and let Mrs. Gray know her baby was out in the rain!
Dora laughed, and assured the kind people that "thatbaby in the field was neither sugar nor salt, and water wouldn't hurt her a grain."
But she told Crawford "it did her good to see how much the neighbors thought of Flaxie Frizzle, for all she was such a curious-acting child."
"And, Crawford, you'll have to take down that 'scarecrow sister,' and put up something else; for I can't spend my time running to the door to explain to folks that it isn't Flaxie Frizzle."
II.
FLAXIE'S DOSE.
Thatsummer Grandpa Pressy came to Dr. Gray's, visiting. Flaxie Frizzle had five grandfathers, but she loved Grandpa Pressy best of all; and he loved her, too, and called her his "little boy."
Now, the dear old gentleman had a poor memory; and, if he laid down his newspaper or spectacles, he hardly ever knew where to find them.
"I guess I left my silk handkerchief up stairs," said he, one morning. "Won't my little boy run up, and get it off the bureau?"
Flaxie went in a moment, but the handkerchief was not there. There was a silver box on the bureau, though, a very pretty one; and Flaxie thought she would open it and see what was in it. It was an old-fashioned snuff-box. Grandpa Pressy did not use snuff, but he carried his medicines in this box when he went away from home. There were three kinds of medicine,—cough lozenges, sugar-coated pills, and a tiny bottle wrapped in cotton-wool, and marked "wine of antimony."
First, Flaxie took out a cough lozenge, and put it on her tongue; but it was rather fiery, and she said,—
"O, it quackles me."
She would not touch the "candy pills," for she had seen the same sort before, and knew they were bitter inside; but she picked the vial out of the cotton-wool, heldit up to the light, and thought it looked "very nice."
"Mayn't I have some, grandpa?" whispered she.
She knew her gampa was not there to hear her: it was a way she had of talking to herself.
"Mayn't I have some, gampa?" Then she smiled very sweetly, and replied aloud,—
"Yes, little boy, youmayhave some."
Ah, Flaxie, Flaxie! To think you should know no better than to meddle with such dreadful things! The antimony was as poisonous as it could be; but, if anybody had told you so, you would have swallowed it all the same, I suppose, you silly little creature!
How much antimony Flaxie took, I'm sure I don't know, but it was a great deal;and it frightens me now to think of it, for this is a true story.
"I'm a doctor's chillen; Imus'take mederson," said she, making a wry face as she found it did not taste at all "nice."
Suddenly a voice called out,—
"Where's that try-patience?"
It was Dora; she was close by the door. Flaxie threw the vial and the box behind the looking-glass, and answered, in an innocent tone,—
"Here I is!"
Of course she knew Dora meanther; for Dora never, never called anybody else a "try-patience."
"What are you up in this chair for, rummaging round in folks' bureaux?" said Dora, hugging and scolding and shaking her, all in a breath.
"I wasn't doin' nuffin," said guilty littleFlaxie, pouting. "If you scold to me, Dodo, I'llmakeme a naughty little goorl!"
"You're always naughty, withoutmaking. There, now, come away: this room is no place for you."
"O, now I know what I camed for," said Flaxie; "it was gampa's hang-ger-fiss."
"O, lor', I found his hang-ger-fiss long ago in the dining-room. Away with you. I want to make the bed."
As Dora spoke, she kissed Flaxie; and I wonder she didn't perceive that the child's breath smelt of medicine.
"There, there, you're an old darling," said Dodo, "whatever you do."
That was the way Dora's scoldings usually ended; and Flaxie did not mind them in the least. She danced down stairs in a great hurry; for, in the front yardunder the trees, her brother Preston and two other boys were swapping jack-knives, and Miss Frizzle always liked to be on the spot when any thing was going on.
The boys all smiled when they saw her coming; and Preston drew her close to his side, and straightened the lace frill in the neck of her dress. He was only eight years old; but he had always felt a great deal of care of his little sister.
"Come here, Miss Frizzle, and I'll put you in my pocket," said Bert Abbott.
"Got some canny in your poggit? If you have, I'll go," responded Flaxie, with a roguish smile.
This was considered such a bright speech that the boys, all three, turned their pockets inside out to see if they had any sweetmeats to offer. Bert Abbott found a broken tart, and Jack Snow a few peanuts.Flaxie took the "pinnuts" with a cool little nod, but the tart was not to her fancy.
"'Cause I don't like pie-grust, andthat'sbecause," said she, curling her lip as she looked at the crumbs.
"Guess you don't like 'pinnuts' either," said Jack Snow; for she was dropping the shells down Preston's back and the kernels into the grass.
"Yes, I like 'em; pinnuts isle-licious," replied Flaxie, faintly; but she was beginning to grow rather pale round the mouth.
"Come, boys," said Preston, who had not the slightest idea that any thing ailed his precious sister, "let's go and have our sail. I'll run and get Flaxie's hat."
They called it "sailing;" but it was merely rocking about in the pretty boat, called the "Trout-fly," which was moored on the bank of the brook. As the boysdid not know how to swim, Dr. Gray never allowed them to unfasten the boat.
It was a lovely day. The hills were as blue as the sky, and the sky was as soft as a dream. What harm was there in having a little "sail" in that black and green "Trout-fly?" Preston thought they were doing a proper thing, and so they were; but the young passenger they took with them was soon to give them a world of trouble.
The boys had a pretty good time; but they could not make Flaxie talk: she said her "teef were tired." There was an anxious look on her face, and she never once smiled.
"What under the sun ails you?" said Preston, as she threw herself down in the bottom of the boat, with her head on his feet.
"I don' know," replied Flaxie; for she had no more remembrance of her dose of poison than a kitten has of its last saucer of cream.
"Are you sleepy?"
"No; but myeyesare."
"Let her go to sleep; don't bother her," said Jack Snow.
"Yes, I shall bother her too. She's real white; and I can't stand it," said Preston, stroking her cold cheeks in alarm.
At that Flaxie began to cry. She was not in pain, as she had been when she got the slate-pencil up her nose; but somehow she felt very unhappy.
"Guess I's goin' to die," sobbed she.
"Why, Flaxie Frizzle Gray, what do you mean by such talk as that? What doYOUknow about dying?"
"O, I know 'bout it; we'll all die someday, mamma said so; guess it'ssome daynow," gasped Flaxie, mournfully.
"That's not a pretty way to talk," said Bert Abbott. "Here, eat a raisin, Flaxie, that's a good baby."
Flaxie shut her eyes firmly, and would not touch the raisin. Preston began to feel uneasy: he had never seen his sister's rosy little face look like this before. "See here, boys," said he, "let's get out of this, and I'll carry Flaxie home to mother."
If he could only have done it! But, somehow, before he had fairly got the child in his arms, she drew away from him and leaned over the stern of the boat. I suppose she was blind and dizzy; but, at any rate, she lost her balance and fell head-first into the brook, which was deep enough, even by the shore, to drown a man. It was done so quickly that nobody had timeto stop her. Jack Snow reached out as far as he could and clutched the hem of her cambric dress; but it slipped through his fingers, and the child sank down, down to the very bottom.
"Hullo there!" screamed the boy, as if that could do the least good!
Preston plunged into the water. He did not know how to swim much; but he never stopped to think of himself, he must save his darling sister. O,wherewas she? Why didn't she rise to the surface? He had heard his father say that people did not drown till they had risen at least once. Perhaps you, who know of Flaxie's taking poison, can guess why she did not rise. She had fainted away!
Preston dived, but came up without her. She had gone out of his reach. When he rose, he said to himself,—
"I'll never go home without my darling sister! If she drowns, I'll drown!"
"Jump into the boat," screamed the boys. "It's no use; you can't get her!"
"Yes, Iwill," said Preston, and dived again. That time, without knowing it, healmosttouched Flaxie, lying still as a log, ten feet below.
When he came up, the boys reached after him and pulled him into the boat. He struggled with all his might; but it was two against one, and he could not help himself.
"Oogle, oogle, goggle!" screamed he; for his mouth was so full of water that he could not speak.
"Pat him on the back," said Jack Snow, always ready with advice.
"Oogle, oogle, oggle, goggle!" cried Preston, striking out both arms, and determined to dive again; but the boys heldhim fast. If they had not held him, he would certainly have drowned, but he could not have saved Flaxie. He had courage enough, and will enough for a grown man; but, alas, his strength was only that of a little boy.
And what could be done? Bert Abbott ran up the bank, screaming for help. Was all the world deaf? If those boys had never prayed before, they prayed now. "Help us, help us, O God,won'tyou help us? Send somebody to save Flaxie!"
It was quite five minutes—so I am told—that the child lay in that brook before any help came. At last a man, who was going by, heard the outcry, and thought it sounded like something more than boys' play. He ran to the spot; and, as he could swim, he soon had Flaxie out of the water; but, whether dead or alive, that was the question.
There she lay in his arms, as still as a stone. The water dripped from her beautiful flaxen hair, from the tips of her white fingers, from her dimpled chin; but not an eyelash stirred, and her little heart had ceased to beat.
"The poor thing is clean gone, no mistake about that," thought the man, putting his lips to Flaxie's cold mouth.
"Rub her! Roll her! Run for father!" shouted Preston, flinging himself upon his lifeless sister, and kissing her wildly.
"Here, boys, you run ahead and get the doctor, and I'll carry her to the house as quick as I can," said Mr. Bond.
"Don't take on so," added he, soothingly to Preston. "Folks do come to, sometimes, and live, when they look as far gone as she does."
He said this from the kindness of hisheart; but in reality he had very little hope of Flaxie. Dr. Gray had scarcely any hope either: he thought she had been in the water too long.
Ever so many men and women worked over the child for hours and hours: Dr. Papa and mamma among the rest, of course; and even Grandpa Pressy helped a little, though his hands trembled, and he was very pale. It did not seem to be of the least use; still, they kept trying.
"O, you dear, beautiful baby," said Mrs. Gray, the tears falling over her cheeks, "it is so hard to give you up!"
Dr. Papa held his cold little darling, his "Pinky Pearly," to his heart; but he could not speak a word.
But, just as they were all giving her up, she was seen to breathe, very, very softly.
"Saved!" whispered Dr. Papa.
"Saved!" echoed mamma.
"Thank God!" said Grandpa Pressy.
How did Preston feel when his dear sister slowly opened her blue eyes? He would have given his life for her,—was he glad she was saved? Ah,washe glad, the noble boy?
In a few minutes Dr. Papa knew the whole story: he found out that Flaxie had been taking poison.
"Now I understand it all," said he. "She fainted away before she fell into the brook. If she had not fainted she could not have lived so long under the water."
"Was that what made her lie so still?" asked Preston. "If she had moved a little I might have pulled her out; but she wouldn't move, and I couldn't reach her."
"You tried your best, my son," said the doctor, laying his hand on Preston's head. "It makes me happy to think my little girl has such a brother!"
III.
THE KNITTING-WORK PARTY.
Flaxierecovered from this accident a great deal sooner than Grandpa Pressy did. Somehow, the shock of seeing his "little boy" lying so white and cold made grandpa ill. He was so ill, in fact, that Dr. Gray sent for grandma.
It was very pleasant having grandma in the house; and her dear old husband began to feel better the moment he saw her.
"Dear little Mary, how do you do?" said she to Flaxie, who was lying on the bed. Flaxie made no answer, except to put out her tongue.
"Can't you speak to grandma?" said Ninny.
"No: I'm a doctor's chillen, and doctor's chillenalwaysputs out their tongues," replied Flaxie, showing it again.
"It doesn't look very sick," said grandma, laughing.
"Then what makes my mamma keep me in bed?" whined Flaxie. "I don't want to be in my nightie. I want to be in my pretty dress, and sit in your lap."
"She is very, very cross," said Ninny to grandma, with a patient smile, as they left the room.
"Perhaps we can amuse her," replied grandma; and next morning she gave her some bright worsted to make her doll, Miss Peppermint Drop, a scarf.
Flaxie was well pleased, for awhile, tying the worsted into knots and puttingit over the needles; but it soon tired her.
"O gramma, the needles won't knit: they'recrookseyneedles," said she.
"Well, come sit in my lap, dear, and I'll tell you a story about a knitting-work party, that I had a great, great while ago, when I was about as old as Julia."
"That's a funny party,Ishould fink," said Flaxie, curling her head down on her grandma's shoulder.
"A knitting-work party, did you say?" asked Ninny, preparing to listen.
"Well, yes. You know girls in those times didn't have so many parties as they do now," replied grandma; "and I had been wanting this one for weeks and weeks before I even dared ask my mother about it. When I did ask her, she said,—
"'Why, Polly, don't you see how much spring-work I have to do? How can Istop to cook a supper for a dozen little girls?'
"'O, but I'll cook it myself,' said I. 'I can make gingerbread and cup-custards.'
"'And what will you do for bread?' said she.
"I didn't think there would be any trouble about that. 'There wasalwaysbread enough,' I said. 'Little girls didn't eat much, and twelve wouldn't make theleastdifference!'
"Well, but mother wanted to know what I could give them for sauce. The dried apples were all gone, and she couldn't let me have any preserves; she was keeping those for sickness.
"I said I would give them some molasses. I liked molasses, and thought everybody else did.
"Mother smiled.
"'But if I let you have a party,' said she, 'you can't do your knitting. You know I'm in a hurry for you to finish father's socks.'
"That was what made me think of turning it into a knitting-work party. I spoke up in a moment, and said I,—
"'O mother! if you'll only let me have it, I'll ask all the girls to bring their knitting-work, and then we'll measure yarns! O, won't that be grand? And, when we get our stints done, we'll go out and play in the barn. We won't trouble you one speck.'
"'Well, Polly,' said mother, 'I've a great mind to say yes; for that sounds to me like a very sensible kind of a party; and will be setting a good example too. Yes, you may have it, if your sisters are willing to show you how to cook, and you won't makemeany trouble.'
"You may depend I was pleased. I skipped off to the kitchen in great glee, and danced about the kneading-trough, where sister Judith was mixing brown-bread, crying out,—
"'I'm going to have aknitting-work party, Judy, and cook it myself! Give me a pan and a spoon!'
"My eldest sister, Sally, was pounding spices in a mortar; and I remember Judith turned to her, and said,—
"'Now, Sally, youdon'tsuppose mother is going to let that child bother round?'
"'O,Ishan't bother,' said I. 'I'm only going to make gingerbread and cup-custards. 'Twill be very easy!'
"Sally laughed,—she was very good-natured,—and told me to run out to the barn for some eggs. While I was gone, I suppose she and Judith talked the matterover, and thought they would keep me out of the kitchen; for, as soon as I came back, they sent me off to give my invitations.
"'We'll do the cooking,' said Sally; 'but you may set the table yourself, and wait upon your little girls. We will not see them at all.'
"I ran off, happy enough; and I have thought a great many times since, how kind it was in Sally and Judith to leave their work to do that baking for me. They were good sisters, certainly.
"I had a grand time that morning, going from house to house, asking my friends to my knitting-work party. Everybody was delighted; and everybody came, of course, and got there by two o'clock, or earlier.
"Mother left her quilting long enough to put marks with red worsted into each little girl's knitting-work.
"'There,' said she, 'at four o'clock I will come to see which has beat. I must be the one to judge; for there is a difference in your yarn,—some is coarse and some is fine; and we must be fair about it.'
"'O, yes'm,' said the girls; 'we want to be fair.'
"'Well, now I'll leave you,' said mother; 'and I hope you'll have a nice time.'
"And we did, for awhile. As we sat busy with our knitting, we heard now and then the tender bleating of a lamb in the barn,—how well I remember that!
"'That's my cosset,' said I. 'She hasn't any mother, you know. I'll show her to you, girls, when we get our knitting done.'
"Persis Russell 'didn't see the use of waiting,' she said. 'Why couldn't we run out and look, and right back again?'
"Just then the lamb began to bleat louder, and in a very beseeching tone, as if he felt lonesome and wanted company. It seemed to touch the girls' hearts; and they sprang up, and started for the door—all but me.
"'Well, run along if you want to,' said I, 'I'll come in a minute.'
"'But you mustn't stay here and keep on knitting,' said they; 'that wouldn't be fair.'
"'I don't mean to keep on knitting. I won't knit another stitch; but I want to sweep up the hearth,' said I.
"As I spoke, I dared not look anybody in the face, for a dreadfully wicked thought had come into my head.
"If I could only pick out the mark mother had put in my work, and sew in another lower down! A black satin bagwas hanging on a nail by the window; and in the bottom of the bag was a needlebook with the very needle and red worsted mother had used to sew in the marks!
"The girls ran out, and I seized that needle—O, how thick and fast my heart beat! It was as much as I could do to make the stitch, my fingers trembled so. But I did it. I put in the mark almost an inch below the right place, and picked out the first mark with a pair of scissors. Then I swept up the hearth a little bit, and went out to the girls.
"They were so delighted with the lamb that they scarcely looked at me; if they had, they must have seen something strange in my face.
"'Come, girls,' said I, speaking very fast, 'let's go right back and knit; and, when it's four o'clock, we'll come back here andplay Ring Round Rosy, and every thing else.'
"They were willing enough to go back; and for half an hour our fingers flew fast; but I took good care not to let any one see the mark in my stocking.
"Just as the clock in the kitchen struck four, mother came in with a pleasant smile for all the little girls; and they brought their knitting-work along to her with blushing faces, for children in those days were more bashful than they are now. Mother took the thirteen pieces of knitting-work, and laid them down together. Little Polly Lane had knit the least of any one, which was not strange, for she was the youngest. Nancy Shaw came next; then Ellen Rice and Phebe Snow. Persis Russell was the oldest, and known to be a very 'smart' girl. Her stocking was seamed, and she had knit a longer piece than Mary Jane Cullen;—another'smart' girl;—but, strange to say, Flaxie, not a single one had done as well as your little grandmother! Mother was surprised: she had not supposed I could knit as fast as Persis Russell, who was twelve years old; but here was my stocking right before her; it was finer than Persis's, and the mark was half an inch lower down!
"'Well, I didn't expect this,' said mother; 'but I shall have to give it up that Polly has beat. You may come here and see for yourselves!'
"The girls looked, and some of them could not help feeling disappointed. I know Mary Jane Cullen had thought if anybody beat her it would be Persis Russell; and Persis knew her fingers had moved faster than mine; yet I had got ahead of them both!
"You may be sure I was very modest,and did not put on any airs. I felt rather sober in spite of my victory. We played noisy games for an hour, and then I said I must go in and set the table, for this wasmyparty. I didn't say I had done the cooking, but I was quite willing they should think I had. When supper was ready I called the girls in, and asked Persis Russell to sit at one end of the table while I sat at the other and poured the tea. It was currant-leaf tea, and wouldn't have kept a baby awake. Then Persis passed the bread, and asked if I made it, and I had to say, 'no.'
"'And you didn't make the gingerbread, either, I suppose,' said she; and I had to say 'no' again, 'I only stirred it.'
"Persis felt better when she heard that. I wasn't the smartest girl in the town of Concord after all.
"'Who made the custards?' asked she.
"'Well, Sally made those,' said I; 'but I hunted up the eggs.'
"Then little Polly Lane said she could hunt eggs, if that was all.
"And Patty Stevens said, 'Yes, so could she; and her mother saidshemight have a knitting-work party if she'd have it just the way Polly did; and she was going to tell her how Polly didn't have to cook the things.'
"'I hope Polly won't begin to knit till the rest of us get started,' said Mary Jane Cullen; 'for I don't think it's fair.'
"O, I tell you, Flaxie, by that time I had begun to feel ashamed of myself; and, at seven o'clock, when my party was all over, and the girls had gone home, I felt more ashamed still. I sat down on the meal-chest in the back room where Sallywas churning, and watched the dash as it moved up and down, and the cream oozed out around the little hole in the cover. She asked me if I'd had a good time. She said she thought the girls had all behaved very well.
"'Why, yes, we'd had aprettygood time,' I said, rather faintly; and I helped myself to the cream till Sally sent me off for fear I'd be down sick.
"By that time I was feeling very wretched; I did not really know why. Perhaps it was all knitting-work; and perhaps it was partly cream;—and I began to think some of it might be molasses. I went to bed, but could not go to sleep, and fell to crying all by myself in the dark. Mother heard me, and came in to ask what was the matter.
"'I want to see my little sister Abby,' said I; 'that's what I'm crying for.'
"'But you never saw your sister Abby,' said mother; 'she died before you were born.'
"'I know it, mother,' sobbed I. 'I never saw her, and that's why I want to see her now!'
"'Is that all you're crying about, Polly?' said mother. 'I'm afraid something happened wrong at your party.'
"'O mamma, I'm ashamed to tell,' said I, covering my head with the sheet. 'I guess I ate too much molasses—I—I—'
"'Well, daughter, and what else?' said mother.
"'I ate too much cream,—I—I—'
"Mother waited patiently.
"'I picked out the marking you put into my knitting-work, and I sewed in another lower down,' cried I, desperately. 'O dear, O, dear, I did. O mother, I knew you'd feel bad! Say, what shall I do?'
"Mother was so surprised and distressed that she did not speak for nearly a minute, and then she said,—
"'It was a dreadful thing, Polly. Do you think you are truly sorry?'
"'O, yes, I guess you'd think so,' sobbed I, 'if you knew how I feel right in here. It's a little speck of it molasses and cream, but most of it's knitting-work; and I want to get right up and dress myself, and go and tell the girls how I cheated.'
"'Are you willing to tell them?' asked mother.
"'Yes, I want to: 'twill choke me if I don't,' said I. 'Patty Stevens is going to have a knitting-work party, and I can tell the girls there; but seems 'sif I can't wait.'
"'If you feel like that,' said mother, 'Ibelieve you are truly sorry. And now let us tell our Heavenly Father about it, and I know he will freely forgive you.'
"There," said Grandma Pressy, smoothing down her cap as she finished, "that's the whole story; but it is a bitter thought to me that I was ever such a naughty child."
"It's bitter to me, too," said Flaxie, making a wry face. "Won't you give me an ollinge, now, to take the taste out?"
IV.
MAKING FLAXIE HAPPY.
"Wethought, in the first place, my little sister had water on the brain, her head was under water so long," explained Preston to the boys; "but she has got over it now, only dreadful cross."
It was a hard time for everybody when Flaxie was cross. She tried to sew, but her work acted "orfly;" the stitches were "cross-eyed," she said.
"I hate my padge-work," cried she, angrily; "I hate itdead!"
"Then I wouldn't sew," said kind Ninny. "Come out to the shed, and I'll swing you."
That was no better. After swinging a little while, Flaxie happened to fall off a pile of boards, and ran into the house, crying out,—
"I swang and I swang; up real high, most up to the sky. Hurt meorfly. Look at my stoggins and see'f I didn't."
"Perhaps you'd like to hear a story," said Mrs. Gray, taking the child in her lap.
"Yes, tell me a story with a long end to it. Tell about Cindrilla."
Mrs. Gray began; and, when she got as far as this,—"Cinderella asked her mother, and her mother said, 'No, Cinderella, you can't go to the party,'" then Flaxie smiled. Somehow she liked to hear about Cinderella's having a hard time: she thought she had a hard time herself. But, when the story was half done, she wanted something else.
"You don't tell good stories, mamma. I wish you'd never been made!"
"O, how can you talk so to your good mother?" said Ninny, much shocked. "You'd better tell a story yourself, and see if you can do better than she does."
"Well, mamma," returned Flaxie, "do you want me to tell a story?"
"Yes."
"Does God know I'm going to tell it?"
"Yes."
"Does He know what it is?"
"Yes."
"Did He always know?"
"Yes."
"Foreverand always?"
"Yes."
"Well," said Flaxie, puckering up her lips, "I ain't a-goin' to tell it; sonowwhat'll he fink?"
Mrs. Gray tried not to smile when Flaxie said such strange things about God; but this time Ninny laughed aloud.
"Now, Ninny, you needn't laugh to me," said Flaxie. "I'm going to be mad with you a whole week."
"What for?"
"'Cause you won't make Pep'mint Drop no boots, andthat'sbecause."
"Seems to me you scold very hard at your sister," said Grandma Pressy. "Ithink she is a very good sister."
Ninny was standing by the sink at that very moment, washing Peppermint Drop's stockings in a pint dipper; and Flaxie was beside her, cutting soap.
"I know what I'll do," thought Ninny, wringing the suds from her hands. "I'll see mamma alone, and ask her if she won't let Flaxie take my place, and ride to NewYork this afternoon. Perhaps that will make her feel better."
"And would you really like to have her go instead of you?" said Mrs. Gray, looking at Ninny's upturned face, and thinking it was one of the sweetest faces she had ever seen in her life.
"Yes'm, I should," said the little girl, earnestly. "I can't bear to have her so cross; and you can't bear it, either, mamma. It almost makes you cry."
"But will she be pleasant if she goes to ride?"
"I think so, mamma. You know she is generally pleasant when she has her own way."
And, indeed, Flaxie's little snarled-up face smoothed in a moment when she heard of the ride.
"I'll sit as still as apossiblemouse,"said she, dancing about her mamma. "I won't trouble papa one bit. Take off mysickingdress, Ninny, and put on my rosy-posy dress. Do it kick."
Was she sorry there was not room enough for Ninny,—good Ninny, who did so much to make her happy? O, no: Flaxie herself was to have a fine time; and that was all she thought about it.
"Letmehold the reins, Dr. Papa," said she, as soon as she had climbed into the carriage. "Ican make the hossy go like a tiger."
"You must sit between your mamma and me, Mary Gray, and keep still; or I shall take you back to the house," said Dr. Papa, sternly.
"Iwillkeep still," replied Miss Frizzle, in alarm. "I'll keep as still as a possible mouse!"
The ride was a very pleasant one. The bright dandelions were gone long ago; but there were plenty of other flowers by the roadside, and the birds in the trees sang gaily.
"See 'em fly 'way off up! O Dr. Papa, they touch theceilingof the sky!" said the "possible mouse."
When they reached the city, she wanted to walk the streets by herself, but consented to take her mother's hand. She loved the many-colored windows and the loud noises; but she was happiest of all, when, at five o'clock, her father and mother took her into an eating-saloon, and called for a lunch.
She had never been in such a place before.
"I want some jelly and cake and pie and puddin' andevery thing," said Flaxie, as her papa tapped the little bell.
"Dry toast for three; tea for two," said Dr. Gray to the waiter.
"ButIwant somenuts," whispered Flaxie, ready to cry. She meant doughnuts.
"Toast is all you can have," said Dr. Papa, with one of his stern looks.
But Flaxie was a bold child, as well as a bright one. She had seen her father touch the bell and call a boy, and thought she would do the same, and see what would happen. Out went her little hand,ting-a-lingwent the silver bell, and up came the same boy.
"Nuts for one girl!" cried Flaxie, before her father had time to stop her.
The waiter covered his face with his hand, and laughed; Mrs. Gray smiled; and Dr. Gray tried to frown.
"Do let her have at least some jelly,Dr. Papa," pleaded the gentle mother.
"Well, I see you want to spoil her! Yes, let her have some jelly," said her father.
Ninny was sorry to see, the next day, that this ride to New York had done Flaxie Frizzle no good. The fact was, she had caught cold, and was sick again for nearly a week.
"My little sister has been havingconjunctionof the lungs. I mean she came pretty near it," said Preston to the boys. He always made the most of it when any thing ailed Flaxie; for he was rather ashamed of belonging to such a healthy family.
After this, the little girl was obliged to stay in the house; and of course she made everybody unhappy.
"Whycan't I go ou' doors, mamma?"
"Because you have such a cold."
"Wish you never'd beenmade, mamma!"
"What a naughty, naughty girl," said Ninny.
"It's mymamma'snaughty! I'll have to tell her a story," said the child. People told stories to Flaxie whenshewas naughty; why shouldn't she do the same thing to other people whentheywere naughty?
"Well," said she, folding her chubby hands, and looking as severe as her father did sometimes,—"Well, once there was a littlegoodgirl, and her mother wanted her to stay in the house all the days; and she staid in the house and didn't go ou' doors; and shekep'a-stayin' in the house. And you s'pose what'cameo' that little goorl? She staid in the house, and staid in the house; and in two weeks shedi-ed!"
Mrs. Gray turned away suddenly; forFlaxie was spreading her hands and making a grieved lip, as if she pitied the "good goorl;" and it was really too funny.
"See, dear," said Grandma Pressy, "here are some nice summer sweetings in my work-bag. If you'll stay in the house pleasantly, all the morning, you shall have one."
Apples were rare, for it was early in the season, and Flaxie looked delighted.
"I'll stayvellypleasantly," said she, and ran into the kitchen for the chopping-tray, in order to chop up a few of the animals in her Noah's ark and "make some lion hash for breakfast."
But, soon tiring of that, she came back to the sitting-room, and looked wistfully out of the window.
"Gamma," said she, "Ogamma, mayn't I have awormyapple, and go ou' doors?"
Grandma Pressy laughed, and said,—
"I think I know of something that will make you happy, little Mary. You just go into the nursery and see what's there."
Flaxie went at once; and there, on the rug, sat Lena Vigue, fondling a pretty Maltese kitten. Lena was the washerwoman's barefooted daughter; and she had just brought the kitten in an old covered basket.
"O Lena, I didn't know you's here," said Miss Frizzle, dropping her "lion hash" in a chair. "I'm glad you bringed your kitty."
"It'syourkitty now," sighed Lena. "I've got to leave it here."
"Mykitty?" cried Flaxie, clapping her hands.
"Yes; your mamma asked me to fetch it. She told me she'd give me te-en cents if I'd fetch it," said Lena, who always spoke with a drawl.
Flaxie danced for joy.
"There, I knew you'd be happy now, Flaxie Frizzle," said Ninny, who stood anxiously looking on.
"I hope thekitty'll be happy," sighed Lena, who thought that was far more important. "I hope you'll feed it well; it's used to it," she added, a little proudly.
"O, yes, what do you feed it with?" asked Ninny.
"Sour milk," drawled the little French girl.
"I never heard of sour milk for a cat," said Ninny, when Lena had left; "but perhaps this is a French cat."
"At any rate we'll try sweet milk first," said Mrs. Gray, smiling.
"See, she likes it, mamma," cried Flaxie, stroking the pretty creature. "See her drink it out of her tongue."
Ninny and her mother looked at each other and smiled, as if to say,—
"How glad we both are to have Flaxie happy for a little while."
But it did not last long. Preston, who was always setting traps for rats and mice and foxes, set a dreadful one in the shed, and caught the kitty, which of course had to be killed. Preston was in great distress about it.
"There, Frizzy-me-gig,don'tcry. John Piper is going to give me something a great deal better than a kitten."
"What is it? O, what is it?"
"You'll see when I get it."
"Will it be my owny-dony?"
"No-o, notyoursexactly; but you may look at it and touch it."
Flaxie was a little comforted; for now she must try to guess what it could be that was better than a kitten.
V.
BETTER THAN A KITTEN.
Thenext day, Preston and his grandfather rode away after old Slowboy.
"They might have let me gone, too,Ishould fink," grumbled Flaxie. "What they goin' to get in that basket? Tell me, Ninny."
"Something nice that you never saw before," replied Ninny.
When they came home that night, they brought two things that made Miss Frizzle's eyes dance and sparkle like stars. Curled up together in a soft heap were two beautiful rabbits,—one brown, the other snow-white.
John Piper, a man who had once lived at Mr. Abbott's, had given these rabbits to Preston Gray and Bert Abbott, for their own. It was very kind of him; but he made one mistake—he forgot to say which of the boys should have the white rabbit. The brown one was "very respectable," as Ninny said; but the other was lovely—as plump and white as a snowball, with pink eyes that glowed like gems.
"Poh, who cares which is which?" said Bert.
"I'm sureIdon't," said Preston, as he hunted all over the stable for an old rabbit cage Crawford had brought there last year. "If we keep 'em together it's all the same."
The boys were well satisfied for awhile; but no more so than Flaxie. After saying her "big prayer," she added,—
"O God, we thank Theespeciallyfor thewabbits; all but the cage; we had that before."
Her cold was well by this time; and she was allowed to stay in the yard as much as she chose, and watch the pretty pets. It was a funny sight to see them nibble the vegetables their little masters brought them; and Flaxie stood and threw kisses to make their dinner all the sweeter.
As the cage was Preston's, and kept in his mother's clothes-yard, it followed that Preston saw more of the rabbits, and had more care of them than Bert. But, alas, Flaxie had the care of them too! When Preston was gone to school, she hovered around them, saying to herself,—
"I mustn't lose these wabbits. It isn'tmywabbits. If I should lose 'em, I should be'spised; and, when I grow up a woman,then folks will look to me and say, 'Flaxie,where'sthose wabbits?'"
And, saying this, she let them out of the cage. A little while afterward, a cruel dog leaped over the fence, worried the poor timid things half to death, and, before Preston could get them back into the cage, had bitten off the beautiful white rabbit's white tail.
It was too much! Preston was very angry, not with Flaxie, but with the dog, and gave him a good beating; or it would have been a good beating if it had only hit the dog! But, after the first blow, the naughty beast ran around a corner; and that was the last seen of him, though it was not the last said or thought of him, you may be sure.
Both the boys were grieved at sight of their white rabbit without any tail, and Bert said,—
"Flaxie, what did you open the cage for?"
But she replied, with an injured air,—
"You ought to notlemmeopen the cage,—such a little goorl as me."
And Bert laughed, but could not help remarking to Preston,—
"Sure enough, you're a smart boy to let that young one meddle round so much."
Then Preston had to answer,—
"Well, I didn't s'pose she could turn the button, and you know I didn't; and I wish you'd hush up."
Naturally, when Bert was told to "hush up," he only talked so much the more; and we all know that talking only makes matters worse.
"If that dog had bit old Brownie, I wouldn't have cared," said Bert, trying to be provoking; "butmywhite rabbit! I say it's a shame!"
"Yourwhite rabbit? What you talking about?"
"Why, John Piper wasmyfather's hired man, sir; and you're only my cousin."
"Well, what o' that, sir? Isn't this cage mine? And would he have given the rabbits to uswithouta cage? No,sir: if it hadn't been formeyou wouldn't have hadhalfa rabbit, Bert Abbott!"
"Half a Bert Rabbit Abbott!" stuttered Flaxie, who never let any one be cross to her brother, except herself.
Then the words flew like hailstones,—pell-mell, sharp and thick, without mercy,—till the boys forgot that they had ever loved each other.
The very next day Brownie got her foot caught in one of Preston's fox-traps, and was lamed for life. Bert had scorned to call her his own when she was a perfectrabbit; but now, out of spite, he hunted up an old bird-cage, and went in great haste to claim her, before she got "killed dead." He said he "didn't care a cent about the old brown thing, but he wasn't going to have her abused."