“The Walrus and the CarpenterWere walking close at hand;They wept like anything to seeSuch quantities of sand:‘If this were only cleared away,’They said, ‘it would be grand!’“‘If seven maids with seven mopsSwept it for half a year,Do you suppose,’ the Walrus said,‘That they could get it clear?’‘I doubt it,’ said the Carpenter,And shed a bitter tear.”
“The Walrus and the CarpenterWere walking close at hand;They wept like anything to seeSuch quantities of sand:‘If this were only cleared away,’They said, ‘it would be grand!’“‘If seven maids with seven mopsSwept it for half a year,Do you suppose,’ the Walrus said,‘That they could get it clear?’‘I doubt it,’ said the Carpenter,And shed a bitter tear.”
“The Walrus and the CarpenterWere walking close at hand;They wept like anything to seeSuch quantities of sand:‘If this were only cleared away,’They said, ‘it would be grand!’
“The Walrus and the Carpenter
Were walking close at hand;
They wept like anything to see
Such quantities of sand:
‘If this were only cleared away,’
They said, ‘it would be grand!’
“‘If seven maids with seven mopsSwept it for half a year,Do you suppose,’ the Walrus said,‘That they could get it clear?’‘I doubt it,’ said the Carpenter,And shed a bitter tear.”
“‘If seven maids with seven mops
Swept it for half a year,
Do you suppose,’ the Walrus said,
‘That they could get it clear?’
‘I doubt it,’ said the Carpenter,
And shed a bitter tear.”
Dora laughed hard at Uncle Dan waving the fish and pretending to wipe his eyes. Olive understood and laughed also, but Lucy and Mrs. Merrill didn’t understand the joke at all.
Then the fishermen were told about thelaunch trip and Dora was rather sorry they had to know that she did not enjoy it. But she felt comforted when Father confided to her that he did not like the motion of the boat himself.
“It was all right as long as we kept moving,” he said, “but when we anchored to fish, I felt as though my dinner wasn’t to be depended upon.”
“I know just how you felt,” said Dora earnestly. “I grew so jiggly that my stomach came up on top of me.”
And the very next day they had to go home. The truck was to come over early in the afternoon and everything must be ready. Uncle Dan and Olive were going back by trolley and they said they would take the children, but Lucy and Dora decided to ride on the truck.
For that last dinner they had another chowder, because it was easy to make and to heat when there was not a great deal of time forcooking. And it was odd how easy the packing seemed. Scarcely five minutes were needed to tuck into the suit-case the clothes it had taken so long to choose. The cookies and cake and apples were all eaten.
Only, as Dora folded the last rug and looked around the empty tent, ready now to be taken down, she thought of Arcturus and the tears came to her eyes. She did not mean anybody to see them, because they had all been so kind. Mother had not said one word about her being careless and Lucy offered to give back the pink coral heart Dora had lent to her. But when the tent was all pulled to pieces, the thought of her dear bear was more than she could stand. Olive saw her wipe away a tear and put an arm around her.
“I am so sorry, Dora,” she said. “Indeed, if I could, I would get you another bear.”
“It wouldn’t be Arcturus,” choked Dora.
“No,” agreed Olive, “but it might be his twin brother. I don’t suppose it would be possible to buy one in this country, and I shall never be lucky enough to go to Switzerland. But I amthinkingyou a little bear, Dora. Can’t you feel him growing?”
Dora pretended she could, and when she came out of the tent, nobody could have suspected any tears. But as they left White Beach, her last look was not for the sea nor the sky nor the gulls, nor the goldenrod and asters along the sandhills, but for the place where the tent had stood, and in her heart she was hoping that Arcturus would be very happy in his new life by the shore.
Timothy was glad to see Lucy and Dora come home. He looked fat, and Marion Baker said he had slept in the kitchen every night but one. On Wednesday evening he chose to visit his friends. But Timmy had evidently been lonesome, for he purred loudly and followed the children up to their room. As soon as the suit-case was opened, he got into it to see whether they had brought anything for him. Dora had done so. There was in the suit-case a stalk of catnip for Timothy.
Some mail and papers were at the house and when Mother looked over the letters there was one for Dora from Miss Chandler, whom she called Aunt Margaret.
Dora planned to answer the letter on Sunday. There was much to tell about the beach. Only, when she began to write, she thought of Arcturus and felt quite sad. When she spoke of him, Mother suggested that Dora should tell Miss Chandler how Arcturus had run away. It was right that she should know, because she gave Dora the little bear.
To write about it in a letter was easier than speaking of it when she saw Miss Chandler, so Dora wrote what had happened and how sorry she was. Then she told her about the nice time at the beach, and what fun it was to sleep in a tent, and how she and Lucy rode home sitting on a roll of blankets in the back of the truck.
When the letter was finished, Mother looked at it. She told Dora about one word which was spelled wrong and said that the writing looked neat. Then she told Dora how to directthe envelope and gave her a postage stamp from Father’s desk.
Dora stuck the stamp on the proper corner and put the letter in the box on the post by Mr. Giddings’ drug-store. Then she came back to the house and read the “Story of Doctor Dolittle.” She thought it was one of the most interesting and funniest stories she had ever read. She tried to have Lucy enjoy it, but Lucy liked “What Katy Did” better.
After supper that Sunday night, Dora followed Mother into her bedroom.
“I have a plan,” she said. “Mother, you know Aunt Margaret told me that her birthday is the same as mine. Both are next Friday. I would very much like to make her a birthday present, Mother. You see she gave me Arcturus and the other little charms. And anyway, it would be nice, because she was so kind to us in the vacation school.”
Mrs. Merrill thought this was a nice plan. She asked Dora what she wanted to give Miss Chandler.
“I have twenty-five cents,” said Dora, “which I earned picking blackberries. I thought I could buy her some paper to write letters on.”
“I think,” said Mrs. Merrill, “that Miss Chandler would like better a gift which you made for her. You know you did some cross-stitching for the bedspread this summer. Haven’t you still the paper with the pattern showing the colored squares?”
Yes, Dora still had the paper pattern of the roses.
“I am going to the city to-morrow,” said Mrs. Merrill. “Would you like me to buy a bit of the canvas they use for cross-stitching, and four skeins of colored cotton? Then you could make a pincushion for Miss Chandlerwith the cross-stitched roses on it. I have a piece of pretty white linen you may use for the top, and I will help you put the cushion together. Don’t you think that would be a nice present?”
Dora was perfectly delighted with Mother’s plan. She begged her to find the piece of white linen at once, and when she saw it, she was sure that it would make an unusual cushion. She was so afraid that Mother would forget what an important errand that canvas was, that she took a pencil and wrote it down on a piece of paper and stuck the paper into Mother’s purse, where she could not fail to see it.
Next morning school began. Lucy and Dora were glad, for both liked to go to school. Lucy was one grade ahead of Dora and so each year, Dora had the teacher Lucy was leaving. Because she heard Lucy talk about them at home, she felt acquainted immediately,and it was not hard to change into a higher grade.
This year Lucy was sorry to leave Miss Leger, and she was not sure she should like Miss Scott, into whose room she was going. Some of the older girls did not like her.
While Mother was tying their hair-ribbons, Lucy spoke to her about it. Mother did not think Miss Scott would be cross.
“If you learn your lessons, Lucy, and behave yourself as well as you should do, your teacher will not be cross. It is only sick or naughty children who can’t get on at school.”
Lucy admitted that Mother’s advice sounded sensible, and she and Dora started for school. Lucy had on a white waist, which had buttoned to it a pink plaid kilted skirt. On the waist was a collar of the pink plaid gingham. When Mother planned that dress, Lucydid not think she should like it, but now the dress was made, she liked it very much.
Dora wore a new dress, too. Hers was a loose blue gingham which was smocked at the shoulders and had a round white collar. They both wore socks and sneakers, because Mother thought best to save their leather shoes for colder weather.
All the children seemed glad to come back to school. All the little girls wore clean crisp dresses, slipped on five minutes before they started for the schoolhouse. All the little boys had clean shirt-waists and their hair brushed back very hard and very wet.
The children went into the rooms belonging to their new grades. Lucy hoped to get a back seat in a row of desks, for all the girls considered the back seats the most desirable. Lucy didn’t get the seat she wanted, but the one she did get was the third from the back,and beside a window, so that was not so bad.
Dora didn’t care where she sat, and this was lucky, because Miss Leger told the children to stand, and then arranged them according to how tall they were, with the smallest ones in front. This put Dora in the first seat of all, but she liked it as well as any other.
Everything went well until recess and then an accident happened to Dora. The little girls were playing tag on the grassy grounds about the schoolhouse. The older girls were walking up and down with arms around each other’s waists, talking of the many things which had happened during the long vacation.
Dora was playing with five other little girls and running as fast as she could when suddenly something hit her hard and everything turned black.
The next Dora knew she was lying flat onthe soft grass and Lucy was holding her hand and one of the big girls was putting water on her face. And ever so many girls were standing around and looking at her.
“What is the matter?” asked Dora. “What hit me?”
“You and Marion Baker ran into each other,” said the big girl who was mopping her face.
Dora thought this odd. She had not evenseenMarion. How queer that she could run into a person whom she didn’t see!
The next second Dora discovered that her lip was cut and bleeding. It hurt worse than her head and the blood was dropping on the pretty blue dress which had been so fresh and clean that morning.
When the littler girls saw the blood-stains, they were frightened. Some of them ran to tell Miss Leger that Dora was hurt.
Miss Leger came out at once. She bathed Dora’s lip and found that there was only a small cut. It was very small to produce so many drops of blood. She told Dora to hold the wet cloth against it. Then she looked at Marion, who had a big bump on her forehead.
For a time both Dora and Marion felt very sorry for themselves, but in a few minutes Marion’s head stopped aching and Dora’s lip no longer shed bright drops of blood. They could even think it funny that with all that big school-yard, both should have tried to stand in the same place at the same second.
Lucy was disturbed about Dora’s dress. It looked worse than Dora could see. Mother was shopping and would not be at home until afternoon school was over. Lucy did not know what was best to do about the dress.
Luckily Father knew. He was sorry that Dora’s lip was cut, but glad she was not badlyhurt. He said that Dora had better take off the dress and put it to soak in cold water. He was sure that cold water would not hurt it and that it would be safe to leave it soaking until Mother came and decided what should be done to it next. He asked Dora if she did not have another clean dress.
Yes, there was a clean dress, but not perfectly new, like the blue gingham. Dora was sorry to change, but she saw that even a dress which wasn’t brand-new looked more tidy than one dribbled with red spots. She took off the spotted one and Lucy buttoned the other and they went back to school.
When they were through at four, Mrs. Merrill was at home. She had attended to the blue gingham and it was hanging on the line, just as clean as ever. Of course she wanted to know about the spots.
Lucy and Dora told her about them and thenDora asked anxiously if Mother found the note in her purse and if she remembered to buy the canvas and the colored cottons.
Mrs. Merrill had remembered. There was a piece of canvas and two shades of green cotton and two of pink. They had cost seventeen cents.
Dora ran to bring Mother her quarter, for she wanted to pay for them so that her gift to Aunt Margaret should be entirely hers. Mrs. Merrill gave her eight cents in change.
“And will you fix the top of the cushion so I can begin on it right away?” she asked.
“I can’t do it just this minute,” said Mrs. Merrill, “because I have to cook something for supper. I will try to do it early this evening.”
“Dora and I will wash the dishes and do all the clearing away, so you can have plenty of time,” offered Lucy.
After supper, Mrs. Merrill sat down withthe pattern and the cross-stitch canvas and the linen for the cushion top. She measured and planned carefully. She basted the canvas in the proper place so it could not slip while Dora was working. She made one cross-stitch so Dora could start easily.
When the last dish was put away, Dora came eagerly to see the cushion. From the one stitch Mother had set, it was easy to follow the pattern and she sat down at once to sew. Before bedtime, the roses and their leaves were made and she was ready to pull out the canvas.
Mother showed her how to do this, just one thread at a time. They were stiff and hurt her fingers, but she kept on and soon the linen top with its design of roses lay before her.
“You have done the pretty part now,” said Mrs. Merrill. “The rest will be plain sewing, but you must set every stitch as well as you possibly can. I want Miss Chandler to thinkthat you work neatly. I will baste it for you.”
“I will try very hard,” said Dora. “I suppose I couldn’t begin that part this evening?”
“No,” said Mrs. Merrill. “Tell Father good-night, and then you and Lucy run up to bed. When you are ready, knock on the floor and I will come and put out the light.”
Both Lucy and Dora laughed at forgetful Mother. Almost always she said that when they were going to bed. Itsoundedall right any time, and itwasall right in winter, when there really was a light to put out. But in September, with daylight-saving time, there was twilight when they went to bed. What Mother meant was that she would come and kiss them and see that the window was open and their clothes properly picked up.
Next day Dora back-stitched the case for the cushion and filled it with some old knittingwool which she snipped into tiny pieces. Dora was surprised to learn from Mother that pins stick much better into a cushion stuffed with wool. It is no use to stuff one with cotton.
Next, the embroidered top was pressed, and this Dora did herself after Mother had finished ironing. Mother basted the top and bottom together and Dora sewed the edges over and over. She tried so hard to make the stitches even and small that her cheeks grew pink and she felt hot all over. Into each stitch she sewed a loving thought for Miss Chandler.
When the cushion was done, Mother said that it looked very neat and Lucy thought it was beautiful. She liked it so much that Dora had another idea. If Mother would help her, she would make a second cushion for Lucy’s Christmas present. There was plenty of cotton for more roses and there were canvas and linen, too. Perhaps it might be possible tomake one for Olive. To make three pretty gifts and have them cost but seventeen cents would be a good deal for a little girl to accomplish.
Dora could hardly wait until Lucy left the room before asking Mother about the other cushions. Mrs. Merrill said at once that she would help. They would be desirable Christmas presents for both Lucy and Olive.
Dora found a clean empty candy-box into which the cushion fitted exactly. She wrapped it neatly in tissue paper and put in a card so Miss Chandler would know from whom it came.
“You might tell her that you made it yourself,” suggested Mother, who was now darning Uncle Dan’s socks.
So Dora put on the card: “I made it myself.” Then she thought a moment and wrote some more: “All but one stitch which Mothermade so I could get the roses in the middle. And the bastings. She sewed those, but they are all pulled out.”
Mother smiled a little over Dora’s card, but she said that it would do, and that she thought Dora was improving in her writing. Then Dora wrapped the box in brown paper and directed it to Miss Chandler in Boston. She decided to pay the postage with her eight cents. Then there would be nothing about the gift not wholly hers.
The seventeenth of September was Dora’s birthday. On Thursday night she went to bed expecting to feel quite different when she waked in the morning and was nine instead of eight. But she didn’t. She felt just the same.
The day was bright and sunny but cold. Lucy looked out to see whether there had been a frost. So far as she could see, nothing was touched in the garden. Even the nasturtiums, which get discouraged and turn black if the thermometer casts a glance toward the freezing-point, were looking as alert and cheerful as usual.
When the children were dressed, they randown-stairs. Lucy went into the kitchen to help Mother. Dora sat down in the parlor and tried to read. The birthday girl never helped about breakfast. She didn’t even come near the table till she was called.
Dora simply couldn’t read. She knew there was to be a surprise and she wanted to think how pleasant it would be. Out in the kitchen she could hear Lucy whispering to Mother and then came a rustle of paper as though somebody was arranging soft packages.
“Breakfast is ready,” called Lucy at last. “All right for you to come, Dora.”
Dora didn’t need to be called but once. Nobody does on a birthday morning.
She saw that her plate was covered with bundles, and then she had to hide because Uncle Dan said that her nose must be buttered and that she should have nine spanks, and one to grow on.
Dora had to dodge around the table till Mother told Uncle Dan to sit down and behave properly. Uncle Dan put down the butter-knife and Dora let him catch her and give her ten love pats and a big hug.
Then Father kissed her, and Mother said if they wasted any more time the children would be late for school and Father and Uncle Dan would be late for work.
Dora sat down at her place and picked up the first package. It was fat and not a bit heavy. She opened it to find some yarn, soft, and of the prettiest blue you can imagine. Dora didn’t know it, but it was the color of her eyes.
“That is to make you a sweater,” said Mother. “I am going to knit one like Mary Burton’s. You said you liked hers so much.”
Dora was delighted. She kissed Mother and looked very happy.
“My old sweater is growing so small,” she said. “Will you knit it soon, Mother?”
“I will begin it this evening,” said Mrs. Merrill. “I want some work to pick up after supper.”
“It is the color I like best,” said Dora, and she opened another package.
This was from Olive and it contained two new hair-ribbons. One was blue and exactly matched the sweater yarn. The other was pink. Dora liked them both.
The next package was small and heavy and Dora wondered what it could be. It was a paint-box with paints of all the different colors that any picture could possibly need. This was from Uncle Dan, and Dora went straight and hugged him.
“How did you know I wanted a paint-box?” she asked. “I wanted it very much and I didn’t expect to have one.”
“A little bird told me,” said Dan promptly.
“I guess it was an Olive-bird,” laughed Dora. “I don’t remember telling anybody but Olive how much I wanted one.”
Lucy was eager for Dora to open her gift. Dora thought it was lovely. It was a roll of colored papers and paper lace, for making hats and dresses for paper dolls. Such a gift was most desirable for work on winter evenings.
Now two packages were left, one of which had come through the mail. Dora opened the other first. This was from Father and was a copy of “Alice in Wonderland.”
Dora loved that story. She had borrowed it many times from the Public Library and never expected to have a copy of her own. Father explained that he had a chance to buy it through the printing-press and knew she would like it.
“There is another part to my present,” hesaid. “Next week there is to be a good film at the movies, ‘Anne of Green Gables.’ You and Lucy and Mother are to see the afternoon performance.”
Lucy and Dora both had to hug Father now. It was not often that Mother let them go to the movie theatre. She thought the pictures were not as nice as books. It would be great fun to see “Anne,” and all the more fun to know about it so long before.
Now there was one package left to open, but under it were two post-cards and a letter. One card was from Mr. Thorne, the rector of the church where the Merrills went and where Uncle Dan sang in the choir. The other was from Miss Page, Dora’s Sunday school teacher. Both had remembered to send a birthday greeting.
The letter and the package were from Miss Chandler. Dora took off the outer wrapper ofthe package and found a candy-box, much like the one her pincushion had gone traveling in. But no candy, unless made of sea-foam, could be so light as that box. When she opened it, nothing showed but tissue paper.
Very carefully, Dora pulled this out and in the middle, wrapped in bright red paper so she could not fail to see it, was a small box, tied with white ribbon. When she opened it Dora gave a gasp. She was so surprised that she could not speak.
Inside the box was a little thing rolled in cotton, and when Dora’s trembling fingers took it out, it was another charm for her to wear on her silver chain.
This charm was a tiny kitten, about three-quarters of an inch high. Unless it had upset a blueing bottle, no earthly kitten was ever that color. This one was deep blue, and it didn’t seem to be made either of glass or metal. Itspointed ears gave it a surprised look and its kitten face wore a pleasant expression. About its neck was a silver collar with a ring at the back to slip on a chain. About its feet its tail coiled tight as though to keep its paws from scattering. Anybody could see that it was an unusual kitten. Dora felt sure it must have a story.
“The letter is from Miss Chandler,” said Mother. “If you open it, Dora, it may tell you where the little cat came from. I suppose it is something she brought from Europe.”
The kitten had come from even farther than Europe! Dora read the letter aloud.
“Dear Little Dora:“Many happy returns of your birthday! I hope you may have the nicest possible time. I am sorry Arcturus was so ungrateful as to run away from his kind mistress, but you know bears are wild at heart. I am sending you another pet in his place, one which I hope will be willing to stay at home. This is aChinese kitten which came from the city of Hong Kong. If you drop it, it will not break because it is made of stained ivory.“Since you named your bear for a star, perhaps you may like a star name for this kitten. Would you like to call it Vega? That is the name of a brilliant star which in summer is almost directly overhead. I am sure your uncle will help you find it. It is a star which shines with a blue light, so its name is suited to a blue kitten.”
“Dear Little Dora:
“Many happy returns of your birthday! I hope you may have the nicest possible time. I am sorry Arcturus was so ungrateful as to run away from his kind mistress, but you know bears are wild at heart. I am sending you another pet in his place, one which I hope will be willing to stay at home. This is aChinese kitten which came from the city of Hong Kong. If you drop it, it will not break because it is made of stained ivory.
“Since you named your bear for a star, perhaps you may like a star name for this kitten. Would you like to call it Vega? That is the name of a brilliant star which in summer is almost directly overhead. I am sure your uncle will help you find it. It is a star which shines with a blue light, so its name is suited to a blue kitten.”
Dora was delighted that the blue kitten should be named for a blue star. She stopped to say so before finishing the letter.
“I wanted to spend our birthday together, but I have to teach all day. So I made another plan which Mother will tell you.”
“I wanted to spend our birthday together, but I have to teach all day. So I made another plan which Mother will tell you.”
Dora at once turned to Mother. “I will tell you when you have eaten your porridge,” said Mrs. Merrill. “Your breakfast is getting cold, Dora. Eat your oatmeal and drink your milk.”
“No eat—no go,” said Uncle Dan.
“Dan, keep still,” said Mrs. Merrill. “Begin to eat, Dora.”
Dora was too happy to feel hungry, but she knew the oatmeal must go down and that she must eat an egg and a slice of toast. When she had almost finished, Mrs. Merrill told the plan.
“I had a letter, too, from Miss Chandler,” she said. “She has invited you and Lucy to come into Boston to-morrow morning and stay with her until Sunday afternoon.”
“Mother! May we?” exclaimed Lucy and Dora in one breath.
“I never went to Boston but twice in my life,” said Lucy.
“I never visited anybody over night,” said Dora and then they both said, “Mother,dolet us!”
“Father and I are willing you should go,” replied Mrs. Merrill. “Miss Chandler sent adollar to pay for your tickets, and Father will put you on the eight o’clock train and Miss Chandler will meet you in the North Station.”
“I didn’t know Aunt Margaret kept house,” said Lucy.
“It isn’t a real house,” said Mrs. Merrill, “that is, not like this one. She has some rooms in a big building.”
“Mother!” said Dora, “oh, Mother, may I take Aunt Margaret a piece of my birthday cake?”
“How do you know there will be a birthday cake?” asked Mrs. Merrill.
“Because there always is,” said Dora.
You may be sure that Lucy and Dora did not oversleep next morning. For supper there had been pink ice-cream and a proper birthday cake with nine pink candles, and the holiday feeling lasted all night.
Father took them to the station and put them on the train. He spoke to the conductor and then to Lucy.
“Now, Lucy,” he said, “if Miss Chandler is not on the platform where the train comes in, you and Dora are to walk right back to the car where you got off, and this gentleman will bring you home on his next train.”
“But, Father,” said Dora, “Aunt Margaret will be there. Shesaidshe would meet us.”
“Yes, I know,” said Father, “and I think she will be waiting. This is so you will know what to do if anything happens to prevent her being there.”
Father kissed them and the conductor said, “All aboard!” Father stepped off quickly.
Neither Lucy nor Dora often went on a train. They traveled so seldom that it was great fun to see the farmhouses and cows and hens as the train scurried past, and to watch the telegraph poles swooping down to gather up their wires.
Before long, the farms grew fewer, and the houses came closer together and instead of having only two tracks, one for the trains going to Boston and the other for trains going in theopposite direction, there were many tracks on both sides, with engines puffing past or cars standing in long lines.
Quite soon the trainman came and took their suit-case. Lucy looked at it anxiously for it contained a clean white dress for her and one for Dora. These were to be worn on Sunday if Aunt Margaret wished to take them to church. Lucy was not sure what the man meant to do with the suit-case.
Dora did not notice his taking it. The train was moving across a bridge with water coming quite close on either side. In the air, gulls were flying, and in the distance she could see some big ships.
The trainman saw that Lucy looked troubled. “The conductor told me to take this,” he said. “I’ll go with you to meet the party you are looking for.”
Lucy didn’t know what he meant. “But wearen’t going to a party,” she said shyly. “We are going to meet Aunt Margaret.”
The trainman smiled. “I’ll help you meet her,” he said, and he looked so pleasant that Lucy was willing he should take the suit-case.
When the train stopped, the children followed the other people to the door and there the trainman stood with the suit-case. He lifted Dora down and took Lucy by the elbow to help her just as he did the grown-up ladies. Then he walked with them down a long platform.
Lucy and Dora were glad that he came with them. The train was standing under a big shed with a very high roof and many people were hurrying about. Huge engines snorted and made so much noise that it seemed most confusing.
Miss Chandler stood by the gate which let the people through from the train-shed into theother part of the station. She kissed the little girls and thanked the kind trainman for helping them find her.
The first thing was to dispose of the suit-case. Miss Chandler called a messenger-boy and sent him to take it to her rooms.
“Now,” she said to the children, “we will go by the elevated train.”
Lucy and Dora had read about the elevated railways in big cities, but neither had been on one. They went through the big station and up some steps and through a turnstile and along a corridor above a street where the trucks and electric cars were, and up some more steps to a platform. Soon a train of cars came, but it did not have a smoky engine. This train ran by electricity.
“Is this the evelated train?” asked Dora.
“Yes, this is the elevated,” said Miss Chandler, laughing. “We will step into this car.”
In half a minute the train was again moving, but the children were surprised because it did not stay on the tracks above the street. Instead, it promptly plunged underground, into a lighted tunnel which ran under the street instead of above it.
“It is a funny kind of elevated train which runs underground, isn’t it?” said Miss Chandler. “But it does in Boston.”
Lucy and Dora thought it was odd, but they liked the brightly lighted stations where the train stopped. Quite soon, Miss Chandler said they would get out.
When they left the car they were still underground and climbed many stairs before seeing daylight. When they came out, it was on a sidewalk in the midst of tall buildings, much higher than any in the city where Mother went shopping. The streets were very narrow and at almost every crossing stood a policeman. Hetold the automobiles to stop and let people cross the street, or he told the people to wait on the sidewalk until it was safe for them to come. Everybody did exactly what he told them to do.
“I think it is very kind of that policeman to stand there and help the people,” said Dora.
Miss Chandler smiled. “Do you, Dora?” she asked. “He says we may cross now.”
Such wonderful shop-windows! Lucy and Dora were really obliged to stop and look, for they had never imagined anything so beautiful. One big window was draped with silks of different shades of orange and flame.
“Is it a fairy palace?” asked Dora. “It is like a story I read once.”
No, it was not a palace, only a big shop and people could go in and buy those very silks if they liked. Miss Chandler let the children look in a number of windows and then she calledtheir attention to an open space across the street.
“Let us go over on the Common,” she said. “Perhaps the squirrels will come to be fed.”
Directly across from the beautiful shops was a big park with great elms and green grass and seats where men and women were sitting. When the children entered, they saw three fat gray squirrels with bushy tails climbing over a man who sat on one of the seats.
“They know he has nuts for them,” said Miss Chandler.
The man saw the children looking at him. He drew his hand from his pocket and it contained some peanuts.
“Would you like to feed the squirrels?” he asked.
“Will they bite?” asked Lucy.
“Not if you don’t scare them. Don’t touchthem nor try to grab them, but just hold the nut in your fingers.”
“Thank you,” said Lucy and took one nut.
“May we?” Dora asked Miss Chandler, and when she smiled, Dora took a nut and thanked the man.
The squirrels came at once. Dora shivered a little when her squirrel put its paws about her fingers to steady the nut. Its wee hands felt so queer!
The third squirrel sat on the man’s knee and nibbled a peanut. When it was eaten, it put its paws over its heart in a beseeching way. As well as it knew how, it was begging for another.
Perhaps it was lucky that the man did not have many peanuts, for Lucy and Dora would have stayed until they were all gone. When there were no more, they thanked the man again and followed Miss Chandler across the Common.
Dora shivered a little when the squirrel put its paws about her fingers—Page 102.
Dora shivered a little when the squirrel put its paws about her fingers—Page 102.
“Who takes care of the squirrels in the winter?” asked Lucy. “Who would feed them if the people didn’t?”
“The park commissioners feed them,” said Miss Chandler. “Did you know that the State legislature of Massachusetts once stopped some important work to provide for a family of orphan gray squirrels on Boston Common?”
“Did they really?” asked Lucy.
“They really did. So you see that the squirrels would be looked after even if people didn’t like to feed them with peanuts. Did you ever hear of the Frog Pond?”
“I have,” said Lucy eagerly. “I have just studied about it in my history class. Dora hasn’t had history yet, but we can tell her.”
Dora looked at the small pond before them. She didn’t see any frogs.
“Just think, Dora,” said Miss Chandler,“that pond has been here since the first people came to Boston. The boys always slide on it in winter. Once during the Revolutionary War, British soldiers camped on the Common. They spoiled the ice where the children wanted to slide.”
“I know what happened,” said Lucy proudly. “The general in command of the British army was a very cross man, but the boys didn’t care if he was. They went straight and told him what the soldiers had done. And the General said they were to let the slide alone. Didn’t he, Aunt Margaret?”
“He did,” said Miss Chandler.
Dora looked respectfully at the Frog Pond. There were better places in Westmore for sliding when winter came, but it was interesting to know that children had played with the Frog Pond ever since there were any children in Boston to play there.
Beyond the Common lay a pretty park, called the Public Garden, and here they came to a larger body of water with white birds swimming on it. Some were ducks and some were swans, and the children stopped to watch them. Miss Chandler kept looking at a wooden platform not far away. Part of it was on the bank and part floated on the water.
Presently a boat came in sight, but it was like no boat Lucy and Dora had ever seen. It was not like the launch on World’s End Pond nor like the one at the beach. It looked like a tremendous great bird, floating lightly on the water.
“Would you like to go in the swan boat?” asked Miss Chandler.
Would they like to! Dora and Lucy could hardly speak for joy. But Dora asked one question.
“There won’t be any waves, will there?” she inquired anxiously. “Not to tip the swan about?”
“It will be perfectly smooth,” said Miss Chandler, and it was. Dora enjoyed every second she spent in the swan boat.
Next, Miss Chandler took them to the Boston Public Library. The children were very fond of the library in Westmore, but they had never imagined a library as big as this great building. Miss Chandler told them that Boston was a large city and the people needed many books to read.
They stayed a long time in the Public Library. In it were many rooms and in some were beautiful paintings. To see them, they climbed a marble stair where great lions kept guard. Dora at once revised her ideas of fairy palaces. If only that windowful of silks could be hung on the walls of the marble stair, itwould be better than any palace of which she had read.
On the walls of one room were paintings about Sir Galahad. Lucy and Dora knew his story and how he went to seek the Holy Grail. Miss Chandler explained each painting.
Then she took them into a pleasant room with low bookcases and small tables and chairs and told them that it belonged to the children of Boston. All the books on the shelves were books which children liked to read.
Dora looked at the shelves carefully. It would be nice to have a library just for children, with no grown-ups at all. Still, the Westmore library was nice, and a little town didn’t need a big library like Boston. Some of the books she saw on the shelves were in the children’s corner of the Westmore library.
“Now I think it is time for luncheon,” said Miss Chandler. “We will have it rather earlybecause I have a plan for this afternoon and I don’t want you to get too tired.”
Lucy and Dora had not thought about eating, but now it was mentioned, they both felt hungry.
Miss Chandler stopped an electric car near the library. To the amusement of the children, after running a few blocks down a wide street, the car dived underground. Cars in Boston seemed to have this habit.
When they came out of the subway they were in a different part of town, one which was crowded with people and had many large stores.
Miss Chandler took them into one of these stores and up in an elevator to where there was a restaurant with music playing.
First they washed their hands and smoothed their hair and then sat at a pretty round table with two pink asters in a vase.
In every direction were tables with people eating luncheon. The waitresses wore gray linen uniforms and white caps, and boys in white suits carried away trays of used dishes. The place was so large and strange that Dora was glad Miss Chandler was with them.
“What would you like for lunch?” Miss Chandler asked.
“Ice-cream, please,” said Lucy.
“Oh, yes!” said Dora. “I would like that best of anything, Aunt Margaret.”
“We will have ice-cream for dessert,” said Miss Chandler, “but we must eat something else first.”
Neither Lucy nor Dora cared especially what they had for lunch. There was too much to see for them to feel interested in the paper which had printed on it the things to eat.
“We will have fricasseed chicken and baked potatoes and rolls,” said Miss Chandler. “Iwill have some coffee and you girls shall have milk. Then we will all order ice-cream.”
The luncheon came on pretty dishes and the chicken was gay with green parsley. The potatoes sat in white paper boats. Most unusual of all, each lump of sugar for Miss Chandler’s coffee came wrapped in smooth white paper.
Miss Chandler said she did not use sugar in her coffee and that the children might each have one lump. Lucy ate hers while waiting for the ice-cream, but Dora tucked hers into a coat pocket. She thought she would take it to Mother.
“What is the nice plan for the afternoon, Aunt Margaret?” Lucy asked when she had finished her chocolate ice-cream. Dora’s ice-cream was strawberry and Miss Chandler’s vanilla.
But the afternoon of that day must have a chapter to itself.
Of course the Chinese kitten came to Boston with Dora. To visit Miss Chandler without wearing her gift would be rude. Mother took a pair of pliers and bent the clasp on Dora’s silver chain so that it unfastened less easily. It must have come apart while Dora was sleeping, and so Arcturus found a chance to escape. Mother made sure that Vega could not get away.
Dora was holding the dear kitten in one hand while Miss Chandler explained her afternoon plan. They were to see “Jack and the Beanstalk.” This was a play, not a film picture, but a most unusual play, because it was acted, not by real people, but by dolls!
Lucy and Dora both opened their eyes wide. How could dolls act a play? They had sometimes tried to have a play with their dolls, but the stupid things would not take any interest.
Miss Chandler explained that these dolls were called marionettes. All any one could see was the stage with the marionettes giving the play, but they were really worked by strings attached to their jointed arms and legs. These strings went up above the stage and were pulled by people out of sight.
A great many children came to see the marionettes and Lucy and Dora enjoyed looking about at all the little girls and boys.
When the curtain rose, showing Jack and his mother and their cottage, they could scarcely believe that the figures, or puppets, were only dolls. They looked the right size for people. They walked about easily and rapidly. It was possible to understand justwhat they were saying, or rather, what the people behind the scenes were saying for them.
How all the children laughed when the cow galloped clumsily in! A frisky cow she was, for she tossed her horns and kicked up her heels when Jack tried to catch her. And then he sold her for the magic bean and planted it, while his mother scolded him and wept.
The magic bean began to grow! Away it went up past the top of the stage, and away went Jack, climbing the stalk while his mother wrung her hands and begged him to come back.
Lucy liked the giant and his wife, but Dora never cared for that part of the story. She was glad when the giants were done with and Jack brought home the gold and chopped down the uncanny beanstalk.
There followed a second play, and this time the actors were cunning rabbits with pointedears and furry faces. They wore gingham dresses or trousers and acted much like real boys and girls.
All over the theatre the children laughed aloud when a naughty boy rabbit got himself wet and Mother Rabbit hung him to dry on a line behind the kitchen stove. But it was the grown-ups who laughed when the postman came with a letter, for the postman was a turtle, and turtles, you know, never move very fast.
Lucy and Dora enjoyed every minute. They could have watched the marionettes for hours and were sorry when it was over.
Miss Chandler knew some of the people who managed the puppets, so she took the children behind the scenes. They were astonished to find that Jack was a small doll, and that the giant was only as large as Lucy’s biggest one. Because everything on the stage was made justthe proper size for the puppets, it seemed as though they were really as large as living people.
The girls who managed the puppets were dressed in knickerbockers and stood on planks raised above the stage. One of them showed Lucy and Dora exactly how she held Jack, and how by pulling one string or another, she could make him walk across the stage, or raise his arms, or turn his head. It seemed wonderful to the children, and, indeed, itwaswonderful.
After the play they ate supper at a place called a dairy lunch, with nice milk and butter and white shiny tiled walls. But here there was no music.
“Now we will go home,” said Miss Chandler. “I am sure you have seen enough for to-day.”
Another electric car took them where MissChandler lived. On the fifth floor of a tall building, she had three rooms which were called an apartment. The first was a living-room, with a big table and a lamp and comfortable chairs and many books. There was one bedroom and a tiny bathroom with a tub for short people. Lastly was a sort of cupboard where there was a gas plate and some pretty dishes. This, Miss Chandler said, was called a kitchenette, because it was too small to be a real kitchen.
Lucy and Dora were pleased with this name. They knew now that they had used a kitchenette at the beach.
The suit-case was there before them and on Miss Chandler’s bureau was the rosebud cushion. She had liked it very much.
The children were tired enough to go to bed early, but they did wonder where they were to sleep, for the bedroom contained only one bed,and it was altogether too narrow for more than one person. Three would be a tight fit.
Miss Chandler moved some books from the mantel in the living-room. She pulled a knob. The whole front of the mantel came down and there was a deep box with a mattress.
“This is a folding-bed,” said Miss Chandler. “Did you ever sleep in one?”
“Never,” said Dora.
“Will it shut up while we are in it?” asked Lucy doubtfully.
“It can’t do that,” said Miss Chandler. She showed them a bolt which kept the bed from shutting until the proper time in the morning. Even if at heart it wanted to close, it couldn’t until the people were ready to put it away.
Miss Chandler brought sheets and blankets, and in five minutes a comfortable bed wasready for two tired little girls. Soon they were tucked into it.
“I shall be reading in my bedroom for a while,” said Miss Chandler. “If you want anything, just speak to me.”
Miss Chandler expected that the children would talk for a time, but they did not. Lucy was sleepy and Dora had so much to think about that she didn’t feel like talking. Very soon Lucy was asleep.
Dora watched the wind blow the sash curtain before the open window and then she suddenly discovered a strange thing. It was exactly like a bright round eye on the wall near the door.
Dora looked at it hard, and the longer she looked, the less she liked it. How could a person or an animal with one eye be staring at her in the dark? How could any eye shine like that?
Dora tucked the Chinese kitten under her cheek for comfort and tried not to look at the queer eye. She looked toward the table where the pretty lamp stood.
That direction wasn’t pleasant either. She saw another queer thing, a streak of light this time, which seemed in the middle of the air. It was a thin, short streak, much nearer the folding-bed than the eye on the wall.
Dora hid her face in her pillow and tried to think what these queer things might be, but the longer she thought, the worse they seemed. She turned her head, and there was the round bright eye on the wall. She looked toward the table, and there was the streak of light in a place where no streak ought to be.
Dora sat up in bed and saw a line of light under Miss Chandler’s door. That was a right and proper place for it to be. She got up and put her arm across her face so sheshould not see the queer eye as she passed. She knocked on the door.
It opened instantly and when Miss Chandler saw Dora, she took her in her arms. “Why, honey, what is the matter?” she asked. “Can’t you go to sleep?”
For a minute Dora did not say anything. She was contented just to feel loving arms about her.
“There is averyqueer thing in that room, Aunt Margaret,” she said at last, her head on Miss Chandler’s shoulder. “I don’t like it at all and I don’t think it ought to be there.”
“What is it, darling?” asked Miss Chandler.
“It is a round bright eye on the wall,” explained Dora. “It looks at me in the dark. And by the table is a little shiny streak.”
Miss Chandler gave a soft laugh and huggedDora tight. “Would you be afraid of that eye if you saw it with me?” she asked.
Dora said she would not feel afraid. Miss Chandler put out the light in her bedroom. In half a minute, right by the door, out of the darkness grew a shiny round spot, exactly like the one in the living-room.
“You see it, don’t you, dear?” asked Miss Chandler. “Now, we will put on the light.”
When the room was bright with electricity, Miss Chandler took Dora over to the wall where the eye had shone. There was an electric switch with two push-buttons. One was white and one was black.
“It is this button, Dora,” said Miss Chandler. “The top has been painted with something which shines in the dark. It isn’t an evil eye at all, little Dora, but a nice friendly eye that says, ‘Did you want to put on the electric light? Here am I, showing you justwhere to touch your finger and snap it on in a jiffy!’”
Miss Chandler turned out the light and Dora saw the button begin to shine. She pushed it in and out and saw how nice it was to have a bright eye to tell her where to find the switch.
“And the streak by the table?” she asked.
“That is a bit of radium paint enclosed in a glass pendant. When you pull the pendant, the lamp on the table lights.”
Dora gave a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Aunt Margaret,” she said. “We have gas at home, and after Mother turns it off, nothing shines.”
Miss Chandler tucked Dora again into bed. When Dora was alone in the dark, she could smile at the friendly eye on the wall.
On Sunday morning the children had the fun of getting breakfast in the kitchenette.First, the folding-bed had to be whisked out of the way, and the room aired and straightened.
There was a wee refrigerator about as large as Mother’s cake-box. In it were butter and milk, a jar of cream, and a comb of honey. A paper bag held crisp half-moon rolls, and there was also a tumbler of orange marmalade. Miss Chandler made coffee for herself, and Lucy proudly boiled three eggs exactly four minutes. She knew just how, because she often cooked them for Mother.
After breakfast they went to church, wearing the white dresses. It was fortunate that Mother thought to send an extra dress apiece, for though the gingham dresses were still clean, they were rumpled after all the exciting things that happened on Saturday.
It was a wonderful church to which Miss Chandler took them, big and dark, with windows like rainbows, and an organ whichsounded like heaven. The service was like that in the Westmore church. Dora wished Uncle Dan were with her, for he liked music and the Westmore choir could not sing like this one.
After service, Miss Chandler showed the children the statue of Bishop Brooks outside the church and told them how good a man he was, and how people loved him so much that the whole city of Boston mourned for him when he died, even people who didn’t go to his church. Long years ago he used to preach there in Trinity Church.
“We are going to do a very interesting thing this afternoon,” Miss Chandler said while they were eating dinner at the College Club. The Club was only a pleasant house, and there was ice-cream for dessert, which was important.
“Will it be a surprise?” asked Dora.
“I think you will be much surprised,” said Miss Chandler.
After the ice-cream was eaten, they walked through a parkway and before long went into a large building.
Inside was a room where a lady wearing a white dress and a white cap sat at a desk. Miss Chandler told the children to sit down and she talked with this lady. A bell rang somewhere.
Presently in came another lady, dressed in the same way as the one at the desk, but she was much younger. Miss Chandler spoke to her and then came to the children.
“This is Lucy and this is Dora,” she said. “This lady is Miss Perrin, and she is going to show us something interesting.”
Miss Perrin took them into a broad hall and to an elevator which went up so slowly that the children could see on every floor they passed, more ladies dressed in white, or in blue withwhite caps and aprons, and men, too, who, strange to say, wore white coats and trousers.
Dora looked inquiringly at Miss Chandler. She smiled back. There was a queer smell in the air. It smelled almost like Mr. Giddings’ drug-store. Miss Perrin left the elevator and led the way to a door.
The room beyond was unlike anything the children had ever seen. The bare floor looked as though it were washed every hour, it was sofearfullyclean! Not a picture hung on the straw-colored walls. All the woodwork was white and the table had a glass top. There were only two chairs, andtheywere white. You can never guess the rest of the furniture.
All around three sides of the room white baskets stood on tall white frames, and in every basket lay a tiny, tiny baby. A whole room full of babies and no grown people at all!
Miss Perrin went straight to the nearestbasket. “O dear!” she said. “Those doctors are so careless. They are forever coming and unpinning covers. Then these persons kick off their blankets and take cold. This one’s hands are freezing.”
Such a very little person to kick off blankets! But they were in a heap at the bottom of the basket and the baby was crying real tears. Dora could hardly bear to see them on its tiny cheeks and to see how pitifully its lower lip quivered. Miss Perrin took it up and laid it against her warm cheek and it stopped being pitiful. Then she tucked it in and pinned down the covers. It did not cry again.
“That is all men know about babies,” said Miss Perrin. “I don’t mind the doctors looking at them, but they never leave them as they find them. No man knows how to put one to bed.”
Miss Perrin looked at every baby to be sureno careless doctor had left it to kick off its covers.
“I have a friend who is here in the hospital,” said Miss Chandler. “I want to see her for a few minutes. Would you two like to stay with the babies? Which is Mrs. Stoddard’s baby?”
“This person here,” said Miss Perrin, indicating a crib. “She is five days old.”
Lucy and Dora went to look at the friend’s baby. It was sound asleep.
While Miss Chandler went to see Mrs. Stoddard, Lucy and Dora looked at all the babies. Then Miss Perrin took them into another and much larger room. Even this big room was full of babies.
They were not sleeping in bassinets like those in the smaller room, but their beds were just as comfortable. Each one lay on a mattress in a wire basket which looked something like Mother’s dish-drainer. When a nursewanted a special baby, she picked it up, basket and all, and carried it off.
In the middle of the room was an odd table, with wheels and two shelves. One of the nurses was collecting wire baskets, each with a wee baby. She set the baskets side by side on the shelves of the table. When there was room for no more, she wheeled the table and the babies into the corridor.
“They are going to their mothers,” said Miss Perrin. “The mothers are in another room and it is time the babies were fed.”
“How do they know which baby belongs to which mother?” asked Dora. “There are so many that I should think they would get mixed.”
“No, they are never mixed,” said Miss Perrin. “We are careful about that, for of course each mother prefers her own baby.”
Miss Perrin lifted the blanket of the nearestbaby and showed the children a tag fastened to its dress. On the tag was a number and a name. The name was that of the mother, and the number that of her bed.
“Whenever a nurse dresses a baby,” Miss Perrin explained, “the first thing she does is to take off this tag and fasten it to the clean dress. And she mustn’t touch another baby until the first one is finished. But we also mark them in another way.”
Miss Perrin uncovered a tiny foot. On its sole was stuck a piece of cloth plaster with the mother’s name written on it.
“You see they cannot be mixed,” she said. “And, anyway, the mothers soon know their own babies.”
“Of course,” Dora agreed.
Lucy gave an exclamation. In one wire basket lay a baby, no smaller than the others, for all were small, but different, because it wasa colored baby. Its skin was black and wee bits of wool covered its head.
“Isn’t it cunning!” said Lucy. “Oh, Dora, I wish we could have it at our house.”
“So do I,” said Dora.
Miss Perrin laughed. “I guess Mother wouldn’t want you to have it,” she said. “Her name is Blanche, and she is just as good as a kitten.”
Lucy and Dora could not leave that little black baby. They liked it best of any, and when Miss Chandler came back, she found them by its basket. They talked about it all the way to Miss Chandler’s apartment, and while they were packing the suit-case.
“We have had a beautiful time, Aunt Margaret,” said Lucy, when they were ready to start for the station.
“Thank you for asking us,” said Dora. “I think Boston is a very nice place.”
“Nice enough to live in?” asked Miss Chandler.
“Oh, yes,” said Dora, and then she stopped. “If I could live in two places,” she went on, after thinking a little. “Because Westmore is home, you know.”
“Yes, I know,” said Miss Chandler, and then she kissed Dora. “But you will like to visit in Boston sometimes?”
“I shall like it very much,” said Dora. “We will always come when you invite us, Aunt Margaret. That is, if Mother says we may.”
“I shall certainly ask you both to come again,” said Miss Chandler.