CHAPTER XI.

THE WEDDING PICNIC. Page 160.THE WEDDING PICNIC. Page 160.

“Yes, by and by, when my eyes grow so bad that I can’t see,” replied Preston, a little sadly in spite of his joy; “but father says I may drive now.”

Flaxie had reached out for the reins, but Milly pinched her,—one of those sly pinches that both the cousins understood,—and she folded her little hands to keep them still. She did want to drive this very minute, but she wouldn’t plague Preston.

“Who is going to take care of your pony?” she asked.

They had a boy, Henry Mann, who took care of Whiz and Hiawatha.

“I shall attend to my pony myself,” replied Preston, driving off at high speed.

“Well, you must give him a quart ofgranaryas quick as we get home,” said Miss Frizzle, looking wondrous wise; “Johnny Townsend feeds his pony with granary—a whole quart.”

Preston laughed and chirrupped. He was “just as happy,” there was no doubt about that.

“I guess I’ll call him Blackdrop, wouldn’t you, though?”

The little girls thought it was a queer name, but they said:

“Oh, yes, if you want to call him Blackdrop, I would.”

“It won’t do any hurt,” added Flaxie encouragingly.

I wish Blackdrop could have known how happy he made the whole family. Milly didn’t say much, but her eyes shone as she patted his neck, Julia sang every time she saw him, Phil “hugged him grizzly,” andGrandma Gray who was very timid about horses, said she wasn’t any more afraid of him than if he had been a Newfoundland dog.

It was the funniest thing, but really and truly, before many days that dear old lady used to step into the pony carriage and let little Flaxie drive her all around the town! Everybody nodded and smiled as the couple passed by, and said it was “the cunningest sight,” for grandma wasn’t so very much bigger than Flaxie, and they looked like two little girls riding out, only grandma’s hair was silver-white, and Flaxie’s spun gold.

Through the whole summer Preston’s eyes grew worse and worse. It was all twilight to him now, or, as somebody calls it, “the edge of the dark.” He still took care of Blackdrop, by the help of Henry, but hecould not ride out unless somebody else held the reins.

“But then this sort of thing won’t last always,” said he to his particular friend, Bert Abbott. “Just wait a year or two, sir, and I shall be as good as anybody.”

CHAPTER XI.FLAXIE A COMFORT.

The days went on, and still Preston’s eyes were not “ready.” Winter came, then spring, and Milly paid another visit to Laurel Grove. She was one of those quiet, happy little girls, who make hardly any more noise than a sunbeam; but everybody likes to see a sunbeam, and everybody was glad to see Milly.

She was even more welcome than usual at Laurel Grove just now, for by this time Preston’s eyes were “ready,” and his father was about taking him to New York.

There were four grown people left in the house, and five children beside Milly; still itseemed lonesome, for everybody was thinking about Preston, and wondering if the doctor would hurt him very much.

“He can’t seewhatthe doctor is doing to him,” said Flaxie to Milly; “I shouldn’t think God would let my brother be blind, mygoodbrother Preston!”

“God knows what is best,” replied Milly, meekly.

“Yes, but, oh dear, I feel so bad! Let’s go out in the kitchen and see what Dodo is doing.”

Grandma, mamma, and Julia looked sadder than ever to hear Flaxie talk in this way and run out of the parlor crying.

Dora stood by the kitchen-table ironing very cheerfully.

“Dodo,” said Flaxie, “what shall we do to have a good time?”

“Such a funny child as you are, MissFlaxie,” said the girl, trying another flatiron; “haven’t you everything to your mind, and haven’t you always had ever since you were born?”

“No, indeed, Dodo,” said Flaxie, mournfully, breaking off a corner from a sheet of sponge-cake which stood cooling in the window; “Idon’t want my brother to be blind.”

“Well, but you can’t help it, though. So you’d better not go round the house, moping in this way and worrying your mother,” returned Dora, making a quick plunge with her flatiron into the folds of a calico dress.

Worrying her mother! Flaxie had not thought of that. She supposed she was showing very kind and tender feelings when she cried about Preston.

“Let’s go back to the parlor,” said Milly; “perhaps Aunt Emily will feel better if we talk and laugh and play with the baby.”

“That’s the nicest little thing I ever saw,” thought Dora, gazing after Milly; “she don’t fret about her own feelings, but tries to make other folks happy.”

This was very true, but you mustn’t suppose that Flaxie didn’t also try to make other people happy. She did whenever she could think of it. She was really learning lessons in unselfishness every day; and how could she help it when everybody in the house set her such a good example?

She and Milly went back to the parlor now, and talked to grandma about their western cousins, Pollio and Posy Pitcher; and then they made little Phil eat apples like a squirrel,—a very funny performance. After that they told him to go into the middle of the room, make a bow, and “speak his piece.” That was funny too, and Ethel joined in on a high key:

“Poor little fish, I know you wishTo live as well as I;I will not hook you from the brook,Or even wish to try.”And you, old frog, behind the log,I will not stop your song;Your great round eyes may watch the flies,I will not do you wrong.“

Mrs. Gray and grandma did not know this exhibition was called for on purpose to amuse them, but they laughed heartily, and felt the better for it; and so did Flaxie and Milly. Wasn’t it much better than sitting in silence and thinking about Preston, when they couldn’t help him at all?

You may know it was a very sad day for the poor boy. When he found himself in the “awful chair,” his heart failed him and he sprang out of it.

“No, no, he never could have his eyes cut with little daggers. Even if they did givehim ether, he couldn’t; Papa must take him right home again. It was of no use!”

It was pitiful to see Preston’s struggles with himself, and the still greater struggles of the father, who tried to hide his feelings for his boy’s sake.

“Wait till to-morrow,” said Preston; “just wait, and Iwill!”

So they waited.

All the afternoon Preston’s heart kept sinking down, down, like a plummet let into the sea, and his father’s heart sank with it, for a child cannot feel a sorrow that does not touch his parent too.

But it chanced in the night, as Preston lay awake, that he fell to thinking how his father loved him.

“He would do anything in this world for me. He’d take his eyes right out and give them to me if he could.”

And then Preston wondered if it were really true that God loved him better yet?

Oh, yes, loved him so that he would never, never let anything really bad happen to his little boy.

“So this isn’t really bad,” thought he, clapping his hands softly under the coverlet; “it seems awful, but it isn’t. God sent it, and I can bear it—yes, for his sake and father’s sake!”

“Surely what He wills is best,Happy in His will I rest,”

repeated Preston, and went quietly to sleep “like closing flowers at night.”

Dr. Gray was joyfully surprised at his bright looks next morning.

“Smile up your face, Dr. Papa,” said he, playfully. This was what Flaxie used to say in her baby days, when they didn’t call her Flaxie Frizzle, but Pinky Pearly.“Smile up your face, Dr. Papa, and see what Preston Gray can do.”

The horror was over then for Dr. Gray; his son was going to behave like a man.

He did not know when he saw Preston take his seat so calmly in that “awful chair,” that he was strong because he felt God’s arms about him.

But when Preston left that chair, the trouble was not all over. He could not bear any light yet, so he had to go home a few days afterwards with a bandage over his eyes, and stay in a dark room for many weeks.

But didn’t they make the room pleasant for him? Didn’t they treat him like a prince? Didn’t Bert Abbott and the other boys go up and down on that stair-carpet till they nearly wore it out?

Of course Julia was good to the youngprisoner; you would have expected that. Flaxie was good too. She seemed at this time to have forgotten all her little fretful, troublesome ways, and was always willing to stay in Preston’s chamber, and tell him everything that happened in the house or out of it; just how the pony looked and acted, and how he coughed a little dot of a mouse out of his nose, supposed to have run up his nostril when he was eating his “granary.” Flaxie could be very interesting when she chose, and Preston’s face began to light up at the sound of her little feet on the stairs.

She had never loved her brother so well as she did now that she had become useful to him, and it made her very happy to hear Preston tell his mother that “Flaxie grew better and better; she was almost as good now as Julia.”

Milly had gone home, but she came back again in June. You see that the twin cousins were not very particular about taking turns in their visits, but went and came just as their two mothers found it most convenient.

By this time Preston could venture out of doors on a dark day or in the evening; but I am sorry to say he was obliged to wear spectacles. This amused the little ones, Phil and Ethel, but Flaxie was very sorry.

“I do pity those spectacles,” said she to Milly in a low voice, as they walked under the apple-trees with their arms around each other’s waist.

“Oh, well,” returned Milly brightly, “he won’t have to wear them always.”

“Yes, he will. He said he was afraid the boys would laugh when they saw him, butthey didn’t. Some of them cried though; I saw Bert Abbott wiping his eyes.”

After a while, the little girls, and indeed all Preston’s friends, became so accustomed to seeing him in glasses that they did not mind it all. He could see perfectly well, and was as happy as ever; so it didn’t seem worth while to “pity his spectacles.”

And now I must tell you one thing more about this dear boy, and then my story will be done.

CHAPTER XII.BRAVE PRESTON GRAY.

“Never saw such folks for jelly; they eat it by the quart. Wish I could be sick once in a while, and get some myself,” muttered Preston, as he settled his school-book under his arm, and took the cup his mother had brought to the door.

It was Jimmy Proudfit who was sick now, and Mrs. Gray was in the habit of sending him little dainties by Preston, who often grumbled about it, and said he was “tired of the whole Proudfit family.” Mrs. Gray never took any notice of these unfeeling remarks, knowing they meant nothing, forPreston was an extremely kind-hearted boy. He had a few faults, of course, and one of them was a strong dislike for doing errands. He was on his way now to recite a Latin lesson to his kind teacher, Mr. Garland; and, as usual, the twin cousins were close at his heels, skipping and dancing, for they never could walk when they felt truly gay.

“Where are you going?” asked Preston, looking back through his spectacles.

“Going up on the bank to play ‘Uncle Tom.’ Blanche Jones and Fanny Townsend and everybody else is going, and ’twill be just splendid,” replied Flaxie, as Preston walked up to Mrs. Proudfit’s door to deliver the jelly.

There were four children playing in the sand this time, and one of them was Patty. The twin cousins thought they would goby them without turning their heads, but Patty called out, “Where are you running to in such a hurry?”

“Oh, we’re going up to play on the bank there somewhere,” replied Flaxie, trying to shake off the baby, who had been eating candy and was pulling at her frock with his sticky fingers.

“Up on the bank? Well, I’m agoin’ too,” said that black-eyed, disagreeable Patty.

And without waiting to see whether she was wanted or not, she followed along with her two dirty sisters; and behind them toddled the baby!

Preston marched on in front, looking very much amused; but Flaxie’s face was quite red. She pinched Milly’s arm, and then Milly pinched hers. It was a strange way to go to a party—theparty of the season; and Flaxie had a great mind to run home;only her mother had charged her again and again not to be rude; so she said in a very calm, polite manner:

“Patty, don’t you think ’twould be a good plan for you to go in the house and see Jimmy? He’s sick.”

Patty only laughed, and the four children scuffled along just the same behind Flaxie and Milly, making the dirt fly with their bare toes.

Oh, it was all very well for Preston to whistle! It didn’t troublehim, of course, forhewasn’t going to the party! He stopped in a few minutes at Mr. Garland’s beautiful brown house with the green vines around it, and made a low bow as he said “Good-bye.”

Flaxie scowled. What would Fanny Townsend and Blanche Jones and all the other nice girls say to see her bringingalong such a train of dirty gypsies? She and Milly kept close together, never turning their heads till they came to the place “on the bank up there somewhere,” where they were to have the party.

Fanny and Blanche, and nearly everybody else, had arrived already, in clean frocks, with faces just washed; and, dear! dear! who wanted those Proudfits? But the little girls in Laurel Grove were for the most part very well-bred, so they said, “How do you do, Patty?” and “How do you do, Gretty?” and “How do you do, Baby?” just as if they had expected the whole family; though it was really a picnic party, and nobody had a right to come to it without an invitation. Patty kept close beside Flaxie; but Bubby, the fourteen months’ old baby, made himself generally disagreeable by wiping the candy and sand off his hands upon the little girls’ skirts.

“Let’s play something,” said Flaxie nervously.

It was a beautiful place to play. There were trees for hide-and-seek, flat spots for croquet, and little hills and hollows for everything else. The village children used this for a sort of park, and the river seemed to look on and laugh to see them so gay. It was a very sober, steady river above and below, but right here it went leaping and tumbling over some rocks, making a merry cascade,—just for fun, you would think. The children liked to skip stones and see them spin up and down in the foam; but they had been warned not to go too near the bank. Nobody had ever fallen in yet, but it wasn’t a safe place for very little folks, certainly not for roly-poly babies like Bubby Proudfit. He was very clumsy, falling down, rolling over, and picking himself upagain every five minutes. Patty meant to watch him, but he was not very interesting, and the little girls quite bewitched her with their kind smiles and pretty ways.

Flaxie Frizzle was one of the youngest, but led off in most of the games. She was little Eva, and died on a bed of grass “elegantly,” while everybody else groaned and howled, especially poor Uncle Tom. Uncle Tom was Milly, in a black mask of Preston’s, which had been played with till it was cracked in fifty places, and made Uncle Tom look about two hundred years old.

Then they had the “Old Woman in the Shoe,” and Flaxie was a fierce and cruel mother, whipping her children so “soundly” that you could hear them scream half a mile off.

Patty thought all this was beautiful, and a longing look came into her bold black eyes, as she gazed at the old woman.

“Oh, ifIcould wear red stockings, with flowers on them, like Flaxie! IfIcould be a doctor’s little girl, and live in a house with blinds and trees and flowers, and have a cousin come to seeme!”

It wasn’t strange that Patty should feel like this, and want to cover up her bare feet in the grass; but in admiring Flaxie she forgot entirely to watch Bubby, and that was a great mistake.Hedidn’t care, he never liked to be watched; it was fine fun to see the whole world before him and go just where he chose. Didn’t the trees and grass and flowers all belong to him! To be sure they did, and he meant to carry some of them home. But while he was trudging about, and making up his little mind where he would begin to pull, he espied the river sparkling in the sun, and that was finest of all. “Pitty, pitty!” criedhe, and thought he would carry the river home too. How nice it would be to splash in! He fairly shouted at the idea, for having never seen a bath-tub, he hadn’t learned to be afraid of soap and water. “Pitty, pitty!” said he, toddling down with outstretched hands toward the dashing, dancing, merry, white cascade; while the children, running away from the terrible old woman, and trying to see which could scream loudest, never saw or heard him at all.

Ah, baby, foolish baby, do you think you can seize that bright river and carry it home? No, it is the bright river that is going to seizeyou, unless somebody stops your little feet before they get to the brink!

About this time Preston Gray had finished reciting his lesson. It was not a very good one, though his teacher found no fault whatever; and now instead of going home, Prestonstrolled along toward the “Children’s Park,” thinking how strange it was that little girls should scream so much louder than boys at their games.

“Flaxie is a gay one,” said he, as he saw her chasing her children with a white birch switch; but at that moment he saw something else that made his heart stand still. The Proudfit baby was scrambling down the bank, just above the falls!

Preston called out, but it was of no use; there was not a man to be seen, and if there had been twenty men they could have heard nothing, while the little girls were making such a noise. He ran with all his might, but by the time he reached the bank, the baby had tumbled headlong into the river!

What was to be done? Preston was only a little boy himself, let me tell you, and though he had learned to swim, the currentwas strong right here, and there was great danger of his being carried over the falls.

What wouldyouhave done, my little reader? Perhaps you would have stopped to think a good many times, saying to yourself:

“Oh, I don’t dare, I don’t dare!”

And then, ah,then, it might have been too late!

Preston was called a slow boy, but he didn’t stop to think once; he did his thinking while he was pulling off his shoes.

“I must do it!” that was all he thought. And then he dashed in.

Bubby was in deep water already, and his struggles were carrying him down stream. Preston seized him by his calico frock, and tried to drag him toward the bank; but that dreadful baby had always had a habit of nipping at everything like a snapping-turtle,and now he caught Preston’s throat between his thumb and forefinger, half strangling him. And, oh, the current was so swift!

For a moment it was life or death with both of them; but Preston managed to unclasp the tiny hand, hold it down, and land the poor little fellow safe at last.

“God helped me—I knew he would!” thought brave Preston Gray, as he drew his first long breath on the bank.

Of course all the little girls had gathered around him, screaming in chorus, and it was a noisy procession that followed the weeping Patty down the street, with the dripping baby in her arms.

“’Twas my brother that saved him, ’twas my brother Preston!” cried Flaxie to everybody they met. “He jumped into the river and pulled out the baby!”

That wasn’t the end of it. There wasanother procession in the evening, and this one stopped at Dr. Gray’s gate. It was the Brass Band, out in uniform; but Preston hadn’t the least idea what for, till the men paused at the end of a tune, swung their caps, and gave “Three cheers for Master Preston Gray!”

Even then he didn’t understand. He hid behind his father and thought heshouldlike to know what his mother was crying about.

“Hurrah!” said the leader again, Major Patten, swinging his tall fur cap, which was the pride of the whole company; “hurrah for the boy that risked his life to save a drowning baby!”

“Oh, is that it? Anybody’d have done that!” thought little Preston, hiding again. He was a modest boy; but his sister Flaxie, you know, was quite too bold.

“Why don’t he come out?” whispered she, pulling at his sleeve.

“Hush, let him alone,” said Dr. Gray, with tears in his eyes.

And then he raised the noble boy in his arms, so the men could see him, for that was what they wanted. But still Preston hid his face. His heart was full, and hecouldn’tlook up when those people were praising him so.

By this time there were lamps lighted in every window of Dr. Gray’s house, and even in the trees; and though the moon was shining her best, Major Patten, with the wonderful fur cap, asked Preston to stand beside him and hold a lamp, that he might see to read his music.

Preston stood there with the light shining on his pure, good face; and then the men played, “See the Conquering Hero comes,”the “Marsellaise,” and a dozen other tunes, while their uniforms made such a dazzle of red and gold that Flaxie could not help dancing about like a wild thing for joy.

It was not so with thoughtful Milly. She snuggled down on the piazza beside Julia, and looked on quietly.

“I’m glad Preston was so good,” thought she; “perhaps he wouldn’t have been so very good if he hadn’t had those blind eyes and spectacles. How God must love him! Papa says Julia is like a little candle, and I’m sure Preston is like a candle too. Why, whereisFlaxie going now?”

Flaxie was flying down the hill after Henry, the stable-boy. She had heard her papa tell him to go to Mr. Springer’s for some ice-cream, and she wanted to say: “Get it pink, Henry; get the pinkest ice-cream you can find!”

Then when the men were seated all about the yard and on the piazza, eating their pink ice-cream, somebody threw up a rocket; and that was the end of the gayest, brightest evening our little friend Flaxie Frizzle had ever known in her life.

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