THE HOUSE OF THE GRANDMOTHERS.CHAPTER XII.—Baby Days go by.
TEACHING MARY ELLEN.
TEACHING MARY ELLEN.
TEACHING MARY ELLEN.
“Getting down-stairs,” said Great-grandmother Day, “doesn’t come so natural to a child as getting up-stairs does. And there is more danger about it. Mary Ellen ought to be taught how to do it, and then be watched. And the sooner the better, for evidently she is coming up here when she pleases.”
The venerable lady stood her cane up in a corner, took Mary Ellen from Old Lady Lois’s lap, gave her a finger and toddled her along to the staircase, and placed her on the floor, her little back to the stairs. Then she stepped down. “Come,” said she, “let’s go down-y, down-y, down-y!”
“See, she is going,” said Mrs. Persis.
But not exactly going was Mary Ellen. Great-grandmother Day had taken hold of her ankle, and was seeking to draw the little red-slippered foot down to the first stair. Feeling herself going, she knew not where, Mary Ellen began to scream, then threw herself flat on the landing.
“Mercy! I hope Nan doesn’t hear this!” said Mrs. Camp.
“She doesn’t,” said Mrs. Lee. “Dick and she have just driven out of the yard.”
Mrs. Day straightened herself up, with a red face. “She will do it all right in a minute or so,” she said. “Babies are born with instincts to do these needful things, just the same as cats and colts.”
After a long breath or two, Mrs. Day bent down and tried again. But Mary Ellen was really terrified, and screamed louder than before. This time she kicked too, and so hard that her poor Great-grandmother had to let go.
“Notty Gum-um!” cried the child.
“Turn her round,” said Mrs. Camp. “Perhapsher‘instinct’ is to go frontwards. Nan’s was.”
And when Mary Ellen was turned, and could see what she was doing, and where she was, and Mrs. Day coaxed again, “Down-y, down-y, now!” the wonderful “instinct” began to stir. She held on to the landing, behind, with both hands, gave a quick hitch, and set her little self on the next step below all right. And down they got her at last, with great fun.
“Nan used to go down that way, so fast she seemed to be just sliding down,” said Nan’s mother, “and now she is so scared about Mary Ellen!”
A BABY NO LONGER.
A BABY NO LONGER.
A BABY NO LONGER.
Well, the day came at last when nobody was worried to find Mary Ellen going up or coming down quite alone, holding to the baluster by one hand, and perhaps a cat on the other arm. She visited first one and then another of her grandmothers, never making two visits on one trip. She seemed to be led by the kind of play she had in her little mind. In Mrs. Persis’s room it was the cat-basket, and a frolic with the cats. In Great-Grandmother Day’s it was to ride the cane cock-horse, like a little boy, thumping it about with plenty of noise. Some days she had a flower to carry to “Yady Yois.” She went up to Mrs. Lee’s room to look at pictures. In Madam Esther’s she picked up buttons; when Madam Esther, who loved quiet, heard the little red slippers stopping at her door, she hurried to overturn her button-box. In Mrs. Camp’s room the little visitor “made moosic” on the guitar strings.
It was to get for “Yady Yois” a big red dahlia that had blossomed by the gate, that one day, all by herself, Mary Ellen clambered down from the veranda, and took her first journey out into the world. She ran skipping over the green grass, tossing her little arms and singing “da-da! da-da!” at the top of her voice. Her yellow hair was blowing all about her face and shining in the September sun and wind.
Her father caught her up, as he came in through the gate. “O, ho!” said he. “Running away, is she? Not a baby any longer, but an independent little girl!”
Ella Farman Pratt.