THE HOUSE OF THE GRANDMOTHERS.CHAPTER IV.—Mary Ellen’s Midnight Adventure.
What it was Mary Ellen had in her soft little pink hand when she came back from the New-Year’s calls and still had in it when she was laid in her “cribsie-nest” New-Year’s night, nobody knew.
“DON’T YOU SMELL PEPPERMINT?”
“DON’T YOU SMELL PEPPERMINT?”
“DON’T YOU SMELL PEPPERMINT?”
It was small and round and flat and smooth. Mary Ellen hardly felt it, and as the hand of a little baby mostly keeps itself shut very tight it did not drop out, and by and by it grew just the least bit sticky and staid fast.
To be sure, when Mama Nan was undressing her and putting on her nightgown she suddenly began to sniff. “I seem to smell peppermint,” she said, and dipped her nose down among Mary Ellen’s ruffles. Then she lifted her head and sniffed all about in the air in the funniest way. “If she were not mine,” she said, “I should certainly say somebody had been giving this child peppermint! Come here, Dick! Don’t you smell peppermint? Put your head down here!”
Papa Dick put his nose down in Mary Ellen’s ruffles and sniffed. He said it did seem as if he got a whiff of peppermint, but perhaps babies always smelt of peppermint.
“Of course shehasn’thad any,” Mama Nan said at last, and they went out and left the baby to her dreams, and the baby said nothing. The little hand staid shut, and she went to sleep.
HE FLASHED UP THE NIGHT LAMP.
HE FLASHED UP THE NIGHT LAMP.
HE FLASHED UP THE NIGHT LAMP.
That night, suddenly, just as the nursery clock began striking twelve, there was an outcry from the crib, so sharp, so painful, that it brought Mama Nan to her feet in the millionth part of a second. Papa Dick, too! He flashed up the night lamp and then there was a second scream, from Mama Nan, and she dropped in a heap by the crib. As for Papa Dick, his hair stood on end. He dashed at the crib and snatched a small mouse, a live mouse but ever so little, from Mary Ellen’s fingers that were clutching it tight. In his horror he flung it into the water-pitcher. Then he flung the water, some of it, and the mouse with it, into Mama Nan’s face, for she had fainted; and the mouse leaped from Mama Nan’s wet cheek and ran for his life.
The next minute both were bending over Mary Ellen. Her big blue eyes, full of tears, were just shutting to sleep again. A tiny pink peppermint lay on the crib quilt. Mama Nan pounced on it. “What did I tell you!” she cried.
Papa Dick was examining the warm little hand. It was very sticky and sugary. There was a tiny red spot, like a pin-prick, on one side of the palm. “The mouse was after the candy,” said he, “and she just shut her fingers on him when he bit—hurrah for our baby, Nan!”
“Bit!” screamed Nan, and for a moment she looked as if she might faint again. “Old Lady Lois must have given it to her when we were upstairs to-day—she is forever eating peppermints! I should think she would have known better!”
But dear Old Lady Lois, who truly was as fond of sweets as a child, had not given her the peppermint. She had dropped it on her lap and little Mary Ellen’s hand had chanced to close over it, and had brought it home.
Ella Farman Pratt.
London Bridge is falling down—Hurry through!London Bridge has fallen down—And—caught—you!
London Bridge is falling down—Hurry through!London Bridge has fallen down—And—caught—you!
London Bridge is falling down—Hurry through!London Bridge has fallen down—And—caught—you!
London Bridge is falling down—
Hurry through!
London Bridge has fallen down—
And—caught—you!