OUR LITTLE NEIGHBORS.
A first of April story.
Jerrycame in one spring morning wearing a very triumphant air. He caught the baby from the floor and tossed him as he said:
“Well, Kittie, I have taken the house.”
“Have you, dear? Now do just tell me all about it. Is it ‘The Cottage by the Sea’ or a ‘cobble-stone front’ at Riverdale? Have you plenty of neighbors, and a garden spot, and what rent? Pray don’t keep me in suspense!”
An amused smile passed over his face as he seated himself.
“Let me see, question No. 1. Is it the ‘Cottage by the Sea?’ Yes, if you choose, for the ocean is only three miles away; just a lovely drive or even walk through delicious pine wood. A ‘cobble-stone front?’ No, thank you. A small plain wooden box, of a dull gray color, well suited to its neighbors, for there is quite a community of Quakers in the vicinity. Neighbors near? Yes, decidedly, as our share is only half the box, after all. It was built for a summer home for two brothers, the Allens, next door to us, you know. Caleb cannot leave town this year, so we can occupy his quarters. Garden spot? Oh, yes; abundantly large, but all in one inclosure. The house is regularly divided, but the grounds are not. Don’t look worried, little wife; you and I and the baby arenot likely to be troublesome, and I am sure Joseph Allen’s staid household will behave itself.”
And so on the “First of April” we moved. My costume was considerably demoralized when we reached our summer home. The baby had quite destroyed all the beauty my hat ever had, and my small nephew, who had insisted upon going to visit us the first day, was so timid in crossing the river that he clung to my draperies with too much fervor, and I presume that I was an object of pity to the few ladies in the cabin. Certain it is that I felt decidedly shabby, tired, and perhaps a trifle out of humor as I entered the cottage door and dropped my heavy boy on the clean, but carpetless floor. Bridget soon made her appearance with a list of the casualties, and as Jerry had not yet arrived,I was growing very gloomy when a light tap at the side entrance caused me to spring to my feet.
What a picture of simplicity and purity stood before me! I blushed at the contrast which my disordered finery presented! Here on my doorstep were two little wrens (I could call them nothing else, although they were certainly girls), one just a trifle taller and larger than the other; both with soft pink cheeks and brown hair cut close on the neck and parted smoothly and evenly, without a suggestion of crimp or curl. Their dresses were of a drab color, just visible below long white aprons, on which there was not even a superfluous button! Their linen sunbonnets boasted of no ruffles, and the colored stockings, which peeped from beneaththeir rather long dresses, were of the same shade. Little gray birds, with just such shy little ways!
The elder one looked up timidly and held toward me a basket, saying:
“Mother sent thee this lunch.”
“And don’t forget, Sallie,” whispered the younger, “don’t forget about the baby.”
“Thee can ask that, Debby.”
The only worldly looking feature between them was Debby’s blue eyes, and they sparkled and ran riot in spite of her, but her mouth was very serious as she asked:
“Would it not relieve thee if Sally and I were to ’tend the baby?” then glancing at my company, “the children, I mean, while thee lies down on mother’s bed.”
My eyes filled with tears at thethoughtfulness of these strangers. I had never known anything about “Quakers” before.
The baby was ready enough to exchange Bridget’s charms for the dainty little ladies’, and I clasped each of his small hands in Debby’s, but instantly she transferred one-half her treasure to sister Sally, who turned demurely, and said:
“Thank thee. We will watch over him, and presently, if thee thinks best, I can give him some milk.”
They had not quite reached the garden when Johnny burst forth. In great wrath he was indeed.
“Do they fink I am a baby!” he roared out. “Get my cap, I want to go on the boat again!”
“On the boat, Johnny!”
He colored, and remembering his terror, revenged himself upon me by saying:
“I s’pose the reason they calls me chillen is ’cause they’s such ole womans demselves;” and having flung his parting shot he walked off with great dignity.
A moment later he was lunching superbly from cold chicken and apple tart out of the “’ole womans’” basket! Such is mortal man!
Although I felt inclined to decline my little neighbor’s invitation to “lie down on mother’s bed,” it was a great help to me to have the baby so well cared for, and Bridget’s stout arms ready to stretch and nail carpets. Down they went rapidly, and was it the fresh breeze from the ocean, wafted through the pine trees, or was it the glass of rich Jersey milk that toned me up to such a cheery condition that, when Jerry’s step sounded on the gravel, I rushedto meet him, singing “Home, Sweet Home”?
The good man was delighted with my progress, and especially with my report of the lovely little neighbors, which I lingered over.
“And where are they now, Kittie?”
“Let us go quietly out to the garden and see, for I am sure I do not intend to impose on good nature by giving over baby entirely to them.”
The tall drooping willow tree in the grass plot sheltered a lovely group. Baby mine, sound asleep in the big clothes basket, was snugly tucked up and protected by the little ladies, attended by that fickle youth, Master Johnny. His squeaky voice was plainly heard explaining the mysteries of Cat’s Cradle and Wood Sawyer.But in a moment more he called wildly:
“Ain’t that a big snake on the baby?” His companions sprang forward hurriedly, but the vicious boy only replied, “April Fool.” The two girls hung their heads and colored. I held my breath. I could not believe they did not understand the joke. It was only an instant, and then Sally, laying her soft hand on stupid little Johnny’s head, said in the silvery voice, so low and clear:
“Dear, could thee not just aswell say ‘Fourth Month Dunce’?”