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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/11257-0.txt b/11257-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..97031e7 --- /dev/null +++ b/11257-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3439 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 11257 *** + +LITTLE FOLKS ASTRAY. + +BY SOPHIE MAY + + +"To give room for wandering is it +That the world was made so wide." + +1872 + + + +TO + +MY YOUNG FRIEND, + +EMMA ADAMS. + +"JOHNNIE OPTIC." + + + + +TO PARENTS. + +Here come the Parlins and Cliffords again. They had been sent to bed and +nicely tucked in, but would not stay asleep. They "wanted to see the +company down stairs;" so they have dressed themselves, and come back to +the parlor. I trust you will pardon them, dear friends. Is it not a +common thing, in this degenerate age, for grown people to frown and +shake their heads, while little people do exactly as they please? + +Well, one thing is certain: if these children insist upon sitting up, +they shall listen to lectures on self-will and disrespect to superiors, +which will make their ears tingle. + +Moreover, they shall hear of other people, and not always of themselves. +Fly Clifford, who expects to be in the middle, will be somewhat +overwhelmed, like a fly in a cup of milk; for Grandma Read is to talk +her down with her Quaker speech, and Aunt Madge with her story of the +summer when she was a child. It is but fair that the elders should have +a voice. That they may speak words which shall come home to many little +hearts, and move them for good, is the earnest wish of + +THE AUTHOR. + + + + +CONTENTS. + + +CHAPTER + + +I. THE LETTER + +II. THE UNDERTAKING + +III. THE FROLIC + +IV. "TAKING OUR AIRS" + +V. DOTTY HAVING HER OWN WAY + +VI. DOTTY REBUKED + +VII. THE LOST FLY + +VIII. "THE FRECKLED DOG" + +IX. MARIA'S MOTHER + +X. FIVE MAKING A CALL + +XI. "THE HEN-HOUSES" + +XII. "GRANNY" + +XIII. THE PUMPKIN HOOD + + + + +LITTLE FOLKS ASTRAY. + + + +CHAPTER I. + +THE LETTER. + + +Katie Clifford sat on the floor, in the sun, feeding her white mice. She +had a tea-spoon and a cup of bread and milk in her hands. If she had +been their own mother she could not have smiled down on the little +creatures more sweetly. + +"'Cause I spect they's hungry, and that's why I'm goin' to give 'em +sumpin' to eat. Shut your moufs and open your eyes," said she, waving +the tea-spoon, and spattering the bread and milk over their backs. + +"Quee, quee," squeaked the little mice, very well pleased when a drop +happened to go into their mouths. + +"What are you doing there, Miss Topknot," said Horace: "O, I see; +catching rats." + +Flyaway frowned fearfully, and the tuft of hair atop of her head danced +like a war-plume. + +"I shouldn't think folks would call 'em names, Hollis, when they never +did a thing to you. Nothing but clean white mouses!" + +"Let's see; now I look at 'em, Topknot, they _are_ white. And what's all +this paper?" + +"Bed-kilts." + +"_In_-deed?" + +"You knew it by-fore!" + +"One, two, three; I thought the doctor gave you five. Where are they +gone?" + +"Well, there hasn't but two died; the rest'll live," said Fly, swinging +one of them around by its tail, as if it had been a tame cherry. + +Just then Grace came and stood in the parlor doorway. + +"O, fie!" said she; "what work! Ma doesn't allow that cage in the +parlor. You just carry it out, Fly Clifford." + +Miss Thistledown Flyaway looked up at her sister shyly, out of the +corners of her eyes. Grace was now a beautiful young lady of sixteen, +and almost as tall as her mother. Flyaway adored her, but there was a +growing doubt in her mind whether sister Grace had a right to use the +tone of command. + +"'Cause I spect she isn't my mamma." + +"Why, Fly, you haven't started yet!" + +"I didn't think 'twas best," responded the child, sulkily, fixing her +eyes on the mice, who were dancing whirligigs round the wheel. + +"Come here to your best friend, little Topknot," said Horace. "Let's +take that cage into the green-house, and ask papa to keep it there, +because the mice look like water-lilies on long stems." + +Flyaway brightened at once. She knew water-lilies were lovely. Giving +Grace a triumphant glance, she danced across the room, and put the cage +in Horace's hands, with a smile of trusting love that thrilled his +heart. + +"Hollis laughs at my mouses, but he don't say, 'Put 'em away,' and, +'_Put_ 'em away;' he says, 'Little gee-urls wants to see things as much +as anybody else,'" thought she, gratefully. + +"Horace," said Grace, with a curling lip, "that child is growing up +just like you--fond of worms, and bugs, and all such disgusting things." + +Horace smiled. No matter for the scorn in Grace's tone; it pleased him +to be compared in any way with his precious little Flyaway. + +"Topknot has a spark of sense," said he, leading her along to the +green-house. "I'll bring her up not to scream at a spider." + +"Now, young lady," said he, setting the cage on the shelf beside a +camellia, and speaking in a low voice, though they were quite alone, +"_can_ you keep a secret?" + +"Course I can; What _is_ a _secrid_?" + +"Why, it's something you musn't ever tell, Topknot, not to anybody that +lives." + +"Then I won't, _cerdily_,--not to mamma, nor papa, nor Gracie." + +"Nor anybody else?" + +"No; course not. _Whobody_ else could I? O, 'cept Phibby. There, now, +what's the name of it." + +"The name of it is--a secret, and the secret is this--Sure you won't +tell any single body, Topknot?" + +"No; I said, _whobody_ could I tell? O, 'cept Tinka! There now!" + +"Well, the secret is this," said Horace, laying his forefingers +together, and speaking very slowly, in order to prolong the immense +delight he felt in watching the little one's eager face. "You know +you've got an aunt Madge?" + +"Yes; so've you, too." + +"And she lives in the city of New York." + +"Does she? When'd she go?" + +"Why, she has always lived there; ever since she was married." + +"O, yes; and uncle Gustus was married, too; they was both married. Is +that all?" + +"And she thinks you and I are 'cute chicks, and wants us to go and see +her." + +"Well, course she does; I knew that before," said Fly, turning away with +indifference; "I did go with mamma." + +"O, but she means now, Topknot; this very Christmas. She said it in a +letter." + +"Does she truly?" said Fly, beginning to look pleased. "But it can't be +a _secrid_, though," added she, next moment, sadly, "'cause we can't go, +Hollis." + +"But I really think we shall go, Topknot; that is, if you don't spoil +the whole by telling." + +"O, I cerdily won't tell!" said Fly, fluttering all over with a sense of +importance, like a kitten with its first mouse. + +The breakfast bell rang; and, with many a word of warning, Horace led +his little sister into the dining-room. + +"Papa," said she, the moment she was established in her high chair, "I +know sumpin'." + +"O, Topknot!" cried Horace. + +"I know Hollis has got his elbows on the table. There, now, _did_ I +tell?" + +"Hu--sh, Topknot!" + +There was a quiet moment while Mr. Clifford said grace. + +"Hollis," whispered Katie immediately afterwards, "will I take my +mouses?" + +"'Sh, Topknot!" + +"What's going on there between you and Horace?" laughed Grace. + +"A _secrid_," said Fly, nipping her little lips together. "You won't get +me to tell." + +"Horace," exclaimed Mrs. Clifford, "you haven't--" + +"Why, mother, I thought it was all settled, and wouldn't do any harm; +and it pleases her so!" + +"Well, my son, you've made a hard day's work for me," said Mrs. +Clifford, smiling behind her coffee-cup, as eager little Katie swayed +back and forth in her high chair. + +"You won't get me to tell, Gracie Clifford. She don't want nobody but +Hollis and me; she thinks we're very 'cute." + +"Who? O, Aunt Louise, probably." + +"No, aunt Louise never! It's the auntie that lives to New York." + +"Sh, Topknot!" + +"Well, I didn't tell, Hollis Clifford!" + +"So you didn't," said Grace. "But wouldn't it be nice if somebody should +ask you to go somewhere to spend Christmas?" + +"Well, _there is_!" + +"O, Topknot," cried Horace, in mock distress, "you said you could keep +a secret." + +Flyaway looked frightened. + +"What'd I do?" cried she; "I didn't tell nuffin 'bout the letter!" + +This last speech set everybody to laughing; and the little tell-tale +looked around from one to another with a face full of innocent wonder. +They couldn't be laughing at _her_! + +"I can keep secrids," said she, with dignity. "It was what I was +a-doin'." + +"It is your brother Horace who cannot be trusted to keep secrets," said +Mrs. Clifford, taking a letter from her pocket. "Hear, now, what your +Aunt Madge has written: 'Will you lend me your children for the +holidays, Maria? I want all three; at any rate, two.'" + +"That's me," cried Flyaway, tipping over her white coffee; "'_tenny +rate two_,' means me." + +"Don't interrupt me, dear. 'Brother Edward has promised me Prudy and +Dotty Dimple. They may have a Santa Claus, or whatever they like. I +shall devote myself to making them happy, and I am sure there are plenty +of things in New York to amuse them. Horace must come without fail; for +the little girl-cousins always depend so much upon him.'" + +A smile rose to Horace's mouth; but he rubbed it off with his napkin. It +was his boast that he was above being flattered. + +"But why not have Grace go, too, to keep them steady?" said Mr. +Clifford, bluntly. + +Horace applied himself to his buckwheat cakes in silence, and looked +rather gloomy. + +"Why, I suppose, Henry, it would hardly be safe to send Grace, on +account of her cough." + +"I'm so sorry you asked Dr. De Bruler a word about it, mamma; but I +suppose I must submit," said Grace, with a face as cloudy as Horace's. + +"Horace, my son, do you really feel equal to the task of taking this +tuft of feathers to New York?" + +"I don't know why not, father; I'm willing to try." + +"Horace has good courage," said Grace, shaking her auburn curls like so +many exclamation points. "I never could! I never would! I'd as soon have +the care of a flying squirrel!" + +"Hollis never called me a _squirl_," said Fly, demurely. "I've got two +brothers, and one of 'em is an angel, and the other isn't; but Hollis +is _'most_ as good as the one up in the sky." + +"Well, my son," remarked Mr. Clifford, after a pause, "if your mother +gives her consent, I suppose I shall give mine; but it does not look +clear to me yet. One thing is certain, Horace; if you do undertake this +journey, you must live on the watch: you must sleep with both eyes open. +Don't trust the child out of your sight--not for a moment. Don't even +let go her hand on the street." + +"I do believe Horace will be as careful as either you or I, Henry, or I +certainly wouldn't trust him with our last little darling," said Mrs. +Clifford. + +His mother's words dropped like balm upon Horace's wounded spirit. He +looked up, and felt himself a man again. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +THE UNDERTAKING. + + +When Flyaway knew she was going to New York, it was about as easy to fit +her dresses as to clothe a buzzing blue-bottle fly. With spinning head +and dancing feet, she was set down, at last, in the cars. + +"Here we are, all by ourselves, darling, starting off for Gotham. Wave +your handkerchief to mamma. Don't you see her kissing her hand? There, +you needn't spring out of the window! And I declare, Brown-brimmer, if +you haven't thrown away your handkerchief! Here, cry into mine!" + +"I didn't want to cry, Hollis; I wanted to laugh," said the child, +wiping her eyes with her doll's cloak. "When you ride in carriages, you +don't get anywhere; but when you ride in the cars, you get there right +off." + +"Yes; that's so, my dear. You are in the right of it, as you always are. +Now I am going to turn the seat over, and sit where I can look at +you--just so." + +"O, that's just as splendid, Hollis! Now there's only me and Flipperty. +There, I put her 'pellent cloak on wrong; but see, now, I've +un-_wrong-side-outed_ it! Don't she sit up like a lady?" + +Her name was Flipperty Flop. She was a large jointed doll (not a doll +with large joints,) had seen a great deal of the world, and didn't think +much of it. She came of a high family, and had such blue blood in her +veins, that the ground wasn't good enough for her to walk on. She wore +a "'pellent cloak" and rubber boots, and had a shopping-bag on her arm +full of "choclid" cakes. She was nearly as large as her mother, and all +of two years older. A great deal had happened to her before her mother +was born, and a great deal more since. Sometimes it was dropsy, and she +had to be tapped, when pints of sawdust would run out. Sometimes it was +consumption, and she wasted to such a skeleton that she had to be +revived with cotton. She had lost her head more than once, but it never +affected her brains: she was all the better with a young head now and +then on her old shoulders. Her present ailment appeared to be small-pox; +she was badly pitted with pins and a penknife. "I declare I forgot to +get a ticket for her," said Horace. "What if the conductor shouldn't +let her pass?" + +"O, Hollis, but he must?" cried Fly, springing to her feet; "_I_ shan't +pass athout my Flipperty! Tell the 'ductor 'bout my white mouses died, +and I can't go athout sumpin to carry." + +"Pshaw! Dotty Dimple don't carry dolls. She don't like 'em: sensible +girls never do." + +"Well, _I_ like 'em," said Flyaway, nothing daunted. "You knew it +byfore; 'n if you didn't want Flipperty, you'd ought to not come!" + +Horace laughed, as he always did when his little sister tried her power +over him. The conductor was an old acquaintance, and he told him how it +stood with Flipperty, how she was needed at New York, and all that; +whereupon Mr. Van Dusen gave Fly a little green card, and told her to +keep it to show to all the conductors on the road; for it was a free +pass, and would take Flipperty all over the United States. + +"Yes, sir, if you please," said Fly, with a blush and a smile, and put +the "free pass" in Miss Flop's cloak pocket. + +After this, she never once failed to show it, whenever Mr. Van Dusen, or +any other conductor, came near, but always had to hunt for it, and once +brought up a cookie instead, which fearful mistake mortified her to the +depths of her soul. + +Horace was sure all eyes were fixed on his charming little charge, and +was proud of the honor of showing her off; but he paid for it dearly; it +cost him more than his Latin, with all the irregular verbs. There was no +such thing as her being comfortable. She was full of care about him, +herself, and the baggage. Flipperty lost off a rubber boot, which +bounced over into the next seat. Horace had to ask a gentleman and his +sick daughter to move, and, after all, it was in an old lady's lap. + +Then Fly's feet were cold, and Horace took her to the stove; but that +made her eyes too hot, and she danced back, to lie with her head on his +breast and her feet against the window, till she suddenly whirled +straight about, and planted her tiny boots under his chin. + +"O, Topknot, Topknot, I pity that woman with the baby, if she feels as +lame all over as I do!" + +"Where's the baby, Hollis? O, I see." + +"What's the matter, now? Why upon earth can't you sit still, child?" +said Horace, next minute, catching her as she was darting into the +aisle, dragging Miss Flop by the hair of the head. + +"O, Hollis, don't you see there's a dolly over there, with two girls and +a lady with red clo'es on? 'Haps they'd be willing for her to get +'quainted with Flipperty?" + +"Well, Topknot, 'haps they would, but 'haps I wouldn't. I can't have you +dancing all over the car, in this style." + +Flyaways's lip quivered, and a tear started. Horace was moved. One of +Fly's tears weighed a pound with him, even when it only wet her +eyelashes, and wasn't heavy enough to drop. + +"Well, there, darling, you just sit still,--not still enough, though, to +give you a pain (Fly always said it gave her a pain to sit still),--and +I'll bring the girls and dollie over here to you. Will that do?" + +Fly thought it would. + +A dreadful fit of bashfulness came over Horace, when he stood face to +face with the black-eyed lady and her daughters, and tried to speak. + +"I've got a little girl travelling with me, ma'am; she's so--so uneasy, +that I don't know what to do with her. Will you let me take--I mean, are +you willing--" + +"Bring her over here, and we will try to amuse her," said the black-eyed +lady, pleasantly; but Horace was sure he saw the oldest girl laughing at +him. + +"It's no fun to go and make a fool of yourself," thought he, leading Fly +to the new acquaintances, and standing by as she settled herself shyly +in the seat. + +"How do you do, little one? What is your name?--_Flyaway_?--Well, you +look like it. We saw you were a darling, clear across the aisle. And you +have a kind brother, I know." + +At these words Fly, for want of some answer to make, sprang forward and +kissed Horace on the bridge of the nose. + +"There, you've knocked off my cap." + +In stooping to pick it up, he awkwardly hit his head against the older +girl, who already looked so mischievous that he was rather afraid of +her. + +"Wish I could get out of the way. She expects me to speak, but I shan't. + + "'Needles and pins, needles and pins, + When a man travels his trouble begins.'" + +Horace was obliged to stand, very ill at ease, till the black-eyed lady +had found out where he lived, who his father was, and what was his +mother's name before she was married. + +"Tell your father, when you go home, you have seen Mrs. Bonnycastle, +formerly Ann Jones, and give him my regards. I knew he married a lady +from Maine." + +"I know sumpin," struck in Fly; "if ever _I_ marry anybody, I'll marry +my own brother Hollis. I mean if I don't be a ole maid!" + +"And what is 'a ole maid,' you little witch?" + +"I don' know; some folks is," was the wise reply. Flyaway was about to +add "Gampa Clifford," but did not feel well enough acquainted to talk of +family matters. + +When the Bonnycastles left, at Cleveland, Horace thought that was the +last of them. Miss Gerty was "decent-looking, looked some like Cassy +Hallock; but he couldn't bear to see folks giggle; hoped he never should +set eyes on those people again." Whether he ever did, you shall hear one +of these days. + +"O, Topknot," said he, "your hair looks like a mop. Do you want all +creation laughing at you? You'll mortify me to death." + +"You ought to water it. If you don't take better care o' your little +sister, I won't never ride with you no more, Hollis Clifford!" + +"Well, see that you don't, you little scarecrow," said the suffering +boy, out of all patience. "If you are going to act in New York as you +have on the road, I wish I was well out of this scrape." + +Flyaway was really a sight to behold. How she managed to tear her dress +off the waist, and loose five boot buttons, and last, but not least, the +very hat she wore on her head, _would_ have been a mystery if you hadn't +seen her run. + +When they reached the city, Horace put the soft, flying locks in as +good order as he could, and tied them up in his handkerchief. + +"I wisht I hadn't come," whined Fly; "I don't want to wear a hangerfiss; +'tisn't speckerble!" + +"Hush right up! I'm not going to have you get cold!--My sorrows! Shan't +I be thankful when I get where there's a woman to take care of her?" + +On the platform at the depot, aunt Madge, Prudy, and Dotty Dimple, were +waiting for them. A hearty laugh went the rounds, which Fly thought was +decidedly silly. Aunt Madge took the young travellers right into her +arms, and hugged them in her own cordial style, as if her heart had been +hungry for them for many a day. + +"We're so glad!--for it did seem as if you'd never come," exclaimed +Dotty Dimple. + +"And I'd like to know," said Horace, "how you happened to get here +first." + +"O, we came by express--came yesterday." + +"By 'spress?" cried Flyaway, pulling away from aunt Madge, who was +trying to pin her frock together; "_we_ came by a 'ductor.--Why, where's +Flipperty's ticket?" + +Horace seized Prudy with one hand, and Dotty Dimple with the other, +turning them round and round. + +"I don't see anything of the express mark, 'Handle with care.' What has +become of it?" + +"O, we were done up in brown paper," said Prudy, laughing, "and the +express mark was on that; but aunt Madge took it off as soon as she got +the packages home." + +"Why, what a story, Prudy Parlin! We didn't have a speck of brown paper +round us. Just cloaks and hats with feathers in!" + +Dotty spoke with some irritation. She had all along been rather +sensitive about being sent by express, and could not bear any allusion +to the subject. + +"There, that's Miss Dimple herself. Let me shake hands with your +Dimpleship! Didn't come to New York to take a joke,--did you?" + +"No, her Dimpleship came to New York to get warm," said Peacemaker +Prudy; "and so did I, too. You don't know how cold it is in Maine." + +By this time they were rattling over the stones in their aunt's elegant +carriage. It was dusk; the lamps were lighted, the streets crowded with +people, the shops blazing with gay colors. + +"I didn't come here to get warm, either," said Dotty, determined to +have the last word: "I was warm enough in Portland. I s'pose we've got a +furnace,--haven't we?--and a coal grate, too." + +"I do hope Horace hasnt't got her started in a contrary fit," thought +Prudy; "I brought her all the way from home without her saying a cross +word." + +But aunt Madge had a witch's broom, to sweep cobwebs out of the sky. +Putting her arm around Dotty, she said,-- + +"You all came to bring sunshine into my house; bless your happy hearts." + +That cleared Dotty's sky, and she put up her lips for a kiss; while +Flyaway, with her "hangerfiss" on, danced about the carriage like a fly +in a bottle, kissing everybody, and Horace twice over. + +"'Cause I spect we've got there. But, Hollis," said she, with the +comical shade of care which so often flitted across her little face, +"you never put the trunk in here. Now that 'ductor has gone and carried +off my nightie." + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +THE FROLIC. + + +If Aunt Madge had dressed in linsey woolsey, with a checked apron on, +she would still have been lovely. A white rose is lovely even in a +cracked tea-cup. But Colonel Augustus Allen was a rich man, and his wife +could afford to dress elegantly. Horace followed her to-night with +admiring eyes. + +"They say she isn't as handsome as Aunt Louise, but I know better; you +needn't tell me! Her eyes have got the real good twinkle, and that's +enough said." + +Horace was like most boys; he mistook loveliness for beauty. Mrs. +Allen's small figure, gentle gray eyes, and fair curls made her seem +almost insignificant beside the splendid Louise; but Horace knew better; +you needn't tell _him_! + +"Horace," said Aunt Madge, "your Uncle Augustus is gone, and that is one +reason, you know, why I begged for company during the holidays. You will +be the only gentleman in the house, and we ladies herewith put ourselves +under your protection. Will you accept the charge?" + +"He needn't _pertect_ ME," spoke up Miss Dimple, from the depths of an +easy-chair; "I can pertect myself." + +"Don't mind going to the Museum alone, I suppose, and crossing ferries, +and riding in the Park, and being out after dark?" + +"No; I'm not afraid of things," replied the strong-minded young lady; +"ask Prudy if I am. And my father lets me go in the horse-cars all over +Portland. That's since I travelled out west." + +Here the bell sounded, and the only gentleman of the house gave his arm +to Mrs. Allen, to lead her out to what he supposed was supper, though he +soon found it went by the name of dinner. Neither he nor his young +cousins were accustomed to seeing so much silver and so many servants; +but they tried to appear as unconcerned as if it were an every-day +affair. Dotty afterwards said to Prudy and Horace, "I was 'stonished +when that man came to the back of my chair with the butter; but I said, +'_If_ you please, sir,' just as if I 'spected it. _He_ don't know but my +father's rich." + +After dinner Fly's eyes drew together, and Prudy said,-- + +"O, darling, you don't know what's going to happen. Auntie said you +might sleep with Dotty and me to-night, right in the middle." + +"O, dear!" drawled Flyaway; "when there's two abed, I sleep; but when +there's three abed, I open out my eyes, and can't." + +"So you don't like to sleep with your cousins," said Dotty, "your dear +cousins, that came all the way from Portland to see you." + +"Yes, I do," said Fly, quickly; "my eyes'll open out; but that's no +matter, 'cause I don't want to go to sleep; I'd ravver not." + +They went up stairs, into a beautiful room, which aunt Madge had +arranged for them with two beds, to suit a whim of Dotty's. + +"Now isn't this just splendid?" said Miss Dimple; "the carpet so soft +your boots go in like feathers; and then such pictures! Look, Fly! here +are two little girls out in a snow-storm, with an umbrella over 'em. +Aren't you glad it isn't you? And here are some squirrels, just as +natural as if they were eating grandpa's oilnuts. And see that pretty +lady with the kid, or the dog. Any way she is kissing him; and it was +all she had left out of the whole family, and she wanted to kiss +somebody." + +"Yes," said aunt Madge. + + "'Her sole companion in a dearth + Of love upon a hopeless earth.' + +"If that makes you look so sober, children, I'm going to take it down. +Here, on this bracket, is the head of our blessed Saviour." + +"O, I'm glad," said Fly. "He'll be right there, a-looking on, when we +say our prayers." + +"Hear that creature talk!" whispered Dotty. + +"And these things a-shinin' down over the bed: who's these?" said +Flyaway, dancing about the room, with "opened-out" eyes. + +"Don't you know? That's Christ blessing little children," said Dotty, +gently. "I always know Him by the rainbow round His head." + +"Aureole," corrected Aunt Madge. + +"But wasn't it just _like_ a rainbow--red, blue and green?" + +"O, no; our Saviour did not really have any such crown of light, Dotty. +He looked just like other men, only purer and holier. Artists have tried +in vain to make his expression heavenly enough; so they paint him with +an aureole." + +Prudy said nothing; but as she looked at the picture, a happy feeling +came over her. She remembered how Christ "called little children like +lambs to his fold," and it seemed as if He was very near to-night, and +the room was full of peace. Aunt Madge had done well to place such +paintings before her young guests; good pictures bring good thoughts. + +"All, everywhere, it's so spl-endid!" said Fly; "what's that thing with +a glass house over it!" + +"A clock." + +"What a funny clock! It looks like a little dog wagging its tail." + +"That's the _penderlum_," explained Dotty; "it beats the time. Every +clock has a penderlum. Generally hangs down before though, and this +hangs behind. I declare, Prudy, it does look like a dog wagging its +tail." + +"Hark! it strikes eight," said Aunt Madge. "Time little girls were in +bed, getting rested for a happy day to-morrow." + +"I don't spect that thing knows what time it is," said Fly, gazing at +the clock doubtfully, "and my eyes are all opened out; but if you want +me to, auntie, I will!" + +So Flyaway slipped off her clothes in a twinkling. + +"We're going to lie, all three, in this big bed, Fly, just for one +night," said Dotty; "and after that we must take turns which shall sleep +with you. There, child, you're all undressed, and I haven't got my boots +off yet. You're quicker'n a chain o' lightning, and always was." + +"Why, how did that kitty get in here?" said auntie, as a loud mewing +was heard. "I certainly shut her out before we came up stairs." + +Dotty ran round the room, with one boot on, and Prudy in her stockings, +helping their aunt in the search. The kitten was not under the bed, or +in either of the closets, or inside the curtains. + +"Look ahind the _pendlum_," said Fly, laughing and skipping about in +high glee; "look ahind the pendlum; look atween the pillow-case." + +Still the mewing went on. + +"O, here is the kitty--I've found her," said auntie, suddenly seizing +Fly by the shoulders, and stopping her mocking-bird mouth. "Poor pussy, +she has turned white--white all over!" + +"You don't mean to say that was Fly Clifford?" cried Prudy. + +"Shut her up, auntie," said Dotty Dimple; "she's a kitty. I always knew +her name was Kitty." + +Fly ran and courtesied before the mirror in her nightie. + +"O, Kitty Clifford, Kitty Clifford," she cried, "when'll you be a cat?" + +"Pretty soon, if you can catch mice as well as you can mew," laughed +auntie; "but look you, my dear; are you going to bed to-night? or shall +I shut you down cellar?" + +"Don't shut me down _cellow_, auntie," cried the mocking-bird, crowing +like a chicken; "shut me in the barn with the banties." + +Next moment it occurred to the child that this style of behavior was not +very "speckerful;" so she hastily dropped on her knees before her +auntie, and began to say her prayers. The change was so sudden, from +the shrill crow of a chicken to the gentle voice of a little girl +praying, that no one could keep a sober face. Prudy ran into the closet, +and Dotty laughed into her handkerchief. + +"There, now, that's done," said Flyaway, jumping up as suddenly as she +had knelt down. "Now I must pray Flipperty." + +And before any one could think what the child meant to do, she had +dragged out her dolly, and knelt it on the rug, face downward, over her +own lap. + +"O, the wicked creature!" whispered Dotty. But Aunt Madge said nothing. + +"Pray," said the little one, in a tone of command. Then, in a fine, +squeaking voice, Fly repeated a prayer. It was intended to be +Flipperty's voice, and Flipperty was too young to talk plain. + +"There, that will do," said Aunt Madge, her large gray eyes trying not +to twinkle; "did she ever say her prayers before?" + +"Yes, um; she's a goody girl--when I 'member to pray her!" + +"Well, dear, I wouldn't 'pray her' any more. It makes us laugh to see +such a droll sight, and nobody wishes to laugh when you are talking to +your Father in heaven." + +"No'm," replied Flyaway, winking her eyes solemnly. + +But when the "three abed" had been tucked in and kissed, Fly called her +auntie back to ask, "How can Flipperty grow up a goody girl _athout_ she +says her prayers?" + +There was such a mixture of play and earnestness in the child's eyes, +that auntie had to turn away her face before she could answer seriously. + +"Why, little girls can think and feel you know; but with dollies it is +different. Now, good night, pet; you won't have beautiful dreams, if you +talk any more." + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +"TAKING OUR AIRS." + + +Flyaway awoke singing, and sprang up in bed, saying,-- + +"Why, I thought I's a car, and that's why I whissiled." + +"But you are not a car," yawned Prudy; "please don't sing again, or +dance, either." + +"It's the _happerness_ in me, Prudy; and that's what dances; it's the +happerness." + +"That's the worst part of Fly Clifford," groaned Dotty; "she won't keep +still in the morning. Might have known there wouldn't be any peace after +she got here." + +Dotty always came out of sleep by slow stages, and her affections were +the last part of her to wake up. Just now she did not love Katie +Clifford one bit, nor her own mother either. + +"Won't you light the lamp?" piped Flyaway. + +"Please don't, Fly," said Prudy; "don't talk!" + +"Won't you light the la-amp?" + +"No, we will not," said Dotty, firmly. + +"Won't you light the la-amp?" + +"Is this what we came to New York for?" moaned Dotty; "to be waked up in +the middle of the night by folks singing?" + +"Won't you light the la-amp?" + +"I'll pack my dresses, and go right home! I'll--I'll have Fly Clifford +sleep out o' this room. Why, I--I--" + +"Won't you light the la-amp?" + +Prudy sprang out of bed, convulsed with laughter, and lighted the gas; +whereupon Fly began to dance "Little Zephyrs," on the pillow, and Dotty +to declare her eyes were put out. + +"Little try-patiences, both of them," thought Prudy; "but then they've +always had their own way, and what can you expect? I'm so glad I wasn't +born the youngest of the family; it does make children _so_ +disagreeable!" + +As soon as Dotty was fairly awake, her love for her friends came back +again, and her good humor with it. She made Fly bleat like a lamb and +spin like a top, and applauded her loudly. + +"It's gl-orious to have you here, Fly Clifford. I wouldn't let you go in +any other room to sleep for anything." + +Which shows that the same thing looked very different to Dotty after she +got her eyes open. + +When the children went down to breakfast, they found bouquets of +flowers by their plates. + +"I am delighted to see such happy faces." said Aunt Madge. "How would +you all like to go out by and by, and take the air?" + +"We'd like it, auntie; and I'll tell you what would be prime," remarked +Horace, from his uncle's place at the head of the table; "and that is, +to take Fly to Stewart's, and have her go up in an elevator." + +"Why couldn't I go up, too?" asked Dotty, with the slightest possible +shade of discontent in her voice. She did not mean to be jealous, but +she had noticed that Flyaway always came first with Horace, and if there +was anything hard for Dotty's patience, it was playing the part of +Number Two. + +"We'll all go up," said Aunt Madge. "I've an idea of taking you over +to Brooklyn; and in that case we shan't come home before night." + +"Carry our dinner in a basket?" suggested Dotty. + +"O, no; we'll go into a restaurant, somewhere, and order whatever you +like." + +"Will you, auntie? Well, there, I never went to such a place in my life, +only once; and then Percy Eastman, he just cried 'Fire!' and I broke the +saucer all to pieces." + +"I've been to it a great many times," said Fly, catching part of Dotty's +meaning; "my mamma bakes 'em in a freezer." + +At nine o'clock the party of five started out to see New York. Aunt +Madge and Horace walked first, with Flyaway between them. "We are going +out to take our _airs_," said the little one. + +"I don't think you need any more," said Horace, looking fondly at his +pretty sister. "You're so airy now, it's as much as we can do to keep +your feet on the ground." + +Flyaway wore a blue silk bonnet, with white lace around the face, a blue +dress and cloak, and pretty furs with a squirrel's head on the muff. She +had never been dressed so well before, and she knew it. She remembered +hearing "Phibby" say to "Tinka," "Don't that child look like an angel?" +Fly was sure she did, for big folks like Tinka must know. But here her +thoughts grew misty. All the angels she had ever heard of were brother +Harry and "the Charlie boy." How could she look like them? + +"Does God dress 'em in a cloak and bonnet, you s'pose?" asked she of her +own thoughts. + +Prudy and Dotty Dimple wore frocks of black and red plaid, white +cloaks, and black hats with scarlet feathers. Horace was satisfied that +a finer group of children could not be found in the city. + +"Aunt Madge and I have no reason to be ashamed of them, I am sure," +thought he, taking out his new watch every few minutes, not because he +wished to show it, but for fear it was losing time. + +"How I wish we had Grace and Susey here! and then I should have all my +nieces," said Aunt Madge. "Is it possible these are the same children I +used to see at Willowbrook? Here is my only nephew, that drowned Prudy +on a log, grown tall enough to offer me his arm. (Why, Horace, your head +is higher than mine!) Here is Prudy, who tried yesterday--didn't +she?--to go up to heaven on a ladder, almost a young lady. Why, how old +it makes me feel!" + +"But you don't look old," said Dotty, consolingly; "you don't look +married any more than Aunt Louise?" + +Here they took an omnibus, and the children interested themselves in +watching the different people who sat near them. + +"Aren't you glad to come?" said Dotty. "See that man getting out. What +is that little thing he's switching himself with?" + +"That's a cane," replied Horace. + +"A cane? Why, if Flyaway should lean on it, she'd break it in +two.--Prudy, look at that man in the corner; _his_ cane is funnier than +the other one." + +Horace laughed. + +"That is a pipe, Dotty--a meerschaum." + +"Well, I don't see much difference," said Miss Dimple; "New York is the +queerest place. Such long pipes, and such short canes!" + +Fly was too happy to talk, and sat looking out of the window until an +elegantly-dressed lady entered the stage, who attracted everybody's +attention; and then Flyaway started up, and stood on her tiptoes. The +lady's face was painted so brightly that even a child could not help +noticing it. It was haggard and wrinkled, all but the cheeks, and those +bloomed out like a red, red rose. Flyaway had never seen such a sight +before, and thought if the lady only knew how she looked, she would go +right home and wash her face. + +"What a chee-arming little girl!" said the painted woman, crowding in +between Aunt Madge and Flyaway, and patting the child's shoulder with +her ungloved hand, which was fairly ablaze with jewels; "bee-youtiful!" + +Flyaway turned quickly around to Aunt Madge, and said, in one of her +very loud whispers, "What's the matter with her? She's got sumpin on her +face." + +"Hush," whispered Aunt Madge, pinching the child's hand. + +"But there is," spoke up Flyaway, very loud in her earnestness; "O, +there is sumpin on her face--sumpin red." + +There was "sumpin" now on all the other faces in the omnibus, and it was +a smile. The lady must have blushed away down under the paint. She +looked at her jewelled fingers, tossed her head proudly, and very soon +left the stage. + +"Topknot, how could you be so rude?" said Horace, severely; "little +girls should be seen, and not heard." + +"But she speaked to me first," said Flyaway. "I wasn't goin' to say +nuffin, and then she speaked." + +A young gentleman and lady opposite seemed very much amused. + +"I'm afraid of your bright eyes, little dear. I'll give you some candy +if you won't tell me how I look," said the young lady, showering +sweetmeats into Flyaway's lap. + +"Why, I wasn't goin' to tell her how she looked," whispered Fly, very +much surprised, and trying to nestle out of sight behind Horace's +shoulder. + +When they left the omnibus, the children had a discussion about the +painted lady, and could not decide whether they were glad or sorry that +Fly had spoken out so plainly. + +"Good enough for her," said Dotty. + +"But it was such a pity to hurt her feelings!" said Prudy. + +"Who hurted 'em?" asked Fly, looking rather sheepish. + +"Poh! her feelings can't be worth much," remarked Horace; "a woman +that'll go and rig herself up in that style." + +"She must be near-sighted," said Aunt Madge. "She certainly can't have +the faintest idea how thick that paint is. She ought to let somebody +else put it on." + +"But, auntie, isn't it wicked to wear paint on your cheeks?" + +"No, Dotty, only foolish. That woman was handsome once, but her beauty +is gone. She thinks she can make herself young again, and then people +will admire her." + +"O, but they won't; they'll only laugh." + +"Very true, Dotty; but I dare say she never thought of that till this +little child told her." + +"Fly," said Horace, "You are doing a great deal of good going round +hurting folks' feelings." + +"Poor woman!" said Aunt Madge, with a pitying smile; "she might comfort +herself by trying to make her soul beautiful." + +"That would be altogether the best plan," said Horace, aside to Prudy; +"she can't do much with her body, that's a fact; it's too dried up." + +All this while they were passing elegant shops, and Aunt Madge let the +children pause as long as they liked before the windows, to admire the +beautiful things. + +"Whose little grampa is that?" cried Fly, pointing to a Santa Claus +standing on the pavement and holding out his hands with a very pleasant +smile; "he's all covered with a snow-storm." + +"He isn't alive," said Dotty; "and the snow is only painted on his coat +in little dots." + +"Well, I didn't spect he was alive, Dotty Dimple, only but he made +believe he was. And O, see that hossy! he's dead, too, but he looks as +if you could ride on him." + +"This other window is the handsomest, Fly; don't I wish I had some of +those beautiful dripping, red ear-rings?" + +"Why, little sister," said Prudy, "I'd as soon think of wanting a gold +nose as those cat-tail ear-rings. What would Grandma Read say?" + +"Why, she'd say 'thee' and 'thou,' I s'pose, and ask me if I called 'em +the ornaments of meek and quiet spirits," said Dotty, with a slight curl +of the lip. "Auntie, is it wicked to wear jewels, if your grandma's a +Quaker?" + +"I think not; that is, if somebody should give you a pair; but I hope +somebody never will. It is a mere matter of taste, however. O, children, +now I think of it, I'll give you each a little pin-money to spend, +to-day, just as you like. A dollar each to Prudy and Dotty; and, Horace, +here is fifty cents for Flyaway." + +"O, you darling auntie!" cried the little Parlins, in a breath. Dotty +shut this, the largest bill she had ever owned, into her red +porte-monnaie, feeling sure she should never want for anything again +that money can buy. + +"There, now, Hollis," said Fly, drawing her mouth down and her eyebrows +up, "where's my skipt? _my_ skipt?" + +"What? A little snip like you mustn't have money," answered Horace, +carelessly; "auntie gave it to me." + +The moment he had spoken the words, he was sorry, for the child was too +young and sensitive to be trifled with. She never doubted that her great +cruel brother had robbed her. It was too much. Her "dove's eyes" shot +fire. Flyaway could be terribly angry, and her anger was "as quick as a +chain o' lightning." Before any one had time to think twice, she had +turned on her little heel, and was running away. With one impulse the +whole party turned and followed. + +"Prudy and I haven't breath enough to run," said Aunt Madge. "Here we +are at Stewart's. You'll find us in the rotunda, Horace. Come back here +with Fly, as soon as you have caught her." + +As soon as he had caught her! + +They were on Broadway, which was lined with people, moving to and fro. +Horace and Dotty had to push their way through the crowd, while little +Fly seemed to float like a creature of air. + +"Stop, Fly! Stop, Fly!" cried Horace; but that only added speed to her +wings. + +"She's like a piece of thistle-down," laughed Horace; "when you get near +her you blow her away." + +"Stop, O, stop," cried Dotty; "Horace was only in fun. Don't run away +from us, Fly." + +But by this time the child was so far off that the words were lost in +the din. + +"Why, where is she? I don't see her," exclaimed Horace, as the little +blue figure suddenly vanished, like a puff of smoke. "Did she cross the +street?" + +"I don't know, Horace. O, dear, I don't know." + +It was the first time a fear had entered either of their minds. Knowing +very little of the danger of large cities, they had not dreamed that the +foolish little Fly might get caught in some dreadful spider's web. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +DOTTY HAVING HER OWN WAY. + + +Yes, Fly was out of sight; that was certain. Whether she had turned to +the right, or to the left, or had merely gone straight on, fallen down, +and been trampled on, that was the question. How was one to find out? +People enough to inquire of, but nobody to answer. + +Horace had as many thoughts as a drowning man. How had he ever dared +bring such a will-o'-the-wisp away from home? How had his mother +consented to let him? His father had charged him, over and over, not to +let go Fly's hand in the street. That did very well to talk about; but +what could you do with a child that wasn't made of flesh and blood, but +the very lightest kind of gas? + +"Dotty, turn down this street, and I'll keep on up Broadway. No--no; +you'd get lost. What shall we do? Go just where I do, as hard as you can +run, and don't lose sight of me." + +Dotty began to pant. She could not keep on at this rate of speed, and +Horace saw it. + +"You'll have to go back to Stewart's." + +"Where's Stewart's?" gasped Dotty, still running. + +"Why, that stone building on Tenth Street, with blue curtains, where we +left auntie." + +"I don't know anything about Tenth Street or blue curtains." + +"But you'll know it when you get there. Just cross over--" + +"O, Horace Clifford, I can't cross over! There's horses and carriages +every minute; and my mother made me almost promise I wouldn't ever cross +over." + +"There are plenty of policemen, Dotty; they'll take you by the +shoulder--" + +"O, Horace Clifford, they shan't take me by the shoulder! S'pose I want +'em marching me off to the lockup?" screamed Dotty, who believed the +lockup was the chief end and aim of policemen. + +"Well, then, I don't know anything what to do with you," said Horace, in +despair. + +It seemed very hard that he should have the care of this willful little +cousin, just when he wanted so much to be free to pursue Flyaway. + +"If you won't go back to Stewart's, you won't. Will you go into this +shop, then, and wait till I call for you?" + +"You'll forget to call." + +"I certainly won't forget." + +"Well, then, I'll go in; but I won't promise to stay. I want to help +hunt for Fly just as much as you do." + +"Dotty Dimple, look me right in the eye. I can't stop to coax you. I'm +frightened to death about Fly. Do you go into this store, and stay in it +till I call for you, if it's six hours. If you stir, you're lost. +Do--you--_hear_?" + +"Yes, I _hear_.--H'm, he thinks my ears are thick as ears o' corn? No +holes in 'em to hear with, I s'pose! Horace Clifford hasn't got the +_say_ o' me, though. I can go all over town for all o' him!" + +"What will you have, my little lady?" said a clerk, bowing to Dotty. + +"I don't want anything, if you please, sir. There was a boy, and he +asked me to stay here while he went to find something." + +"Very well; sit as long as you please." + +"Screwed right down into the floor, this piano stool is," thought Dotty; +"makes it real hard to sit on, because you can't whirl it. Guess I'll +walk 'round a while. Why, if here isn't a window right in the floor! +Strong enough to walk on. There's a man going over it with big boots and +a cane. I can look right down into the cellar. Only just I can't see any +thing, though, the glass is so thick." + +Dotty watched the clerks measuring off yards of cloth, tapping on the +counter, and calling out, "Cash." It was rather funny, at first, to see +the little boys run; but Dotty soon tired of it. + +"Horace is gone a long while," thought she, going to the door and +looking out. + +"He has forgotten to call, or he's forgotten where he left me, or else +he hasn't found Fly. Dear, dear! I can't wait. I'll just go out a few +steps, and p'rhaps I'll meet 'em." + +She walked out a little way, seeing nothing but a multitude of strange +faces. + +"Well, I should think this was queer! I'll go right back to that store, +and sit down on the piano stool. If Horace Clifford can't be more +polite! Well, I should think!" + +Dotty went back, and entered, as she supposed, the store she had left; +but a great change had come over it. It had the same counters, and +stools, and goods on lines, marked "Selling off below cost;" but the men +looked very different. "I don't see how they could change round so +quick," thought Dotty; "I haven't been gone _more'n_ a minute." + +"What shall I serve you to, mees," said one of them, with a smile that +was all black eyes and white teeth. Dotty thought he looked very much +like Lina _Rosenbug's_ brother; and his hair was so shiny and sticky, it +must have been dipped in molasses. + +She answered him with some confusion. "I don't want anything. I was the +girl, you know, that the boy was going somewhere to find something." + +The man smiled wickedly, and said, "Yees, mees." In an instant it +flashed across Dotty that she had got into the wrong store. Where was +the glass window she had walked on? They couldn't have taken that out +while she was gone. The floor was whole, and made of nothing but boards. + +"Well, it's very queer stores should be _twins_," thought Dotty. + +She entered the next one. It was not a "twin;" it was full of books and +pictures. + +"Why didn't Horace leave me here, in the first place, it was so much +nicer. And they let people read and handle the pictures. O, they have +the _goldest_-looking things!" + +How shocked Prudy would have been, if she had seen her little sister +reaching up to the counter, and turning over the leaves of books, side +by side with grown people! Miss Dimple was never very bashful; and what +did she care for the people in New York, who never saw her before? She +soon became absorbed in a fairy story. Seconds, minutes, quarters; it +was a whole hour before she came to herself enough to remember that +Horace was to call for her, and she was not where he had left her. + +"But he can't scold; for didn't he keep me waiting, too? Now I'll go +back." + +The next place she entered was a cigar store. + +"I might have known better than to go in; for there's that wooden Indian +standing there, a-purpose to keep ladies out!" + +"O, here's a 'Sample Room.' Now this _must_ be the place, for it says +'Push,' on the green door, just as the other one did." + +What was Dotty's astonishment, when she found she had rushed into a room +which held only tables, bottles, and glasses, and men drinking something +that smelt like hot brandy! + +"I shan't go into any more 'Sample Rooms.' I didn't know a 'Sample' +meant whiskey! But, I do declare, it's funny where _my_ store is gone +to." + +The child was going farther and farther away from it. + +"Here is one that looks a little like it Any way, I can see a glass +window in there, on the floor." + +A lady stood at a counter, folding a piece of green velvet ribbon. Dotty +determined to make friends with her; so she went up to her, and said, in +a low voice, "Will you please tell me, ma'am, if I'm the same little +girl that was in here before? No, I don't mean so. I mean, did I go into +the same store, or is this a different one? Because there's a boy going +to call for me, and I thought I'd better know." + +Of course the lady smiled, and said it might, or might not be the same +place; but she did not remember to have seen Dotty before. + +"What was the number of the store? The boy ought to have known." + +"But I don't believe he did," replied Dotty, indignantly; "he never said +a word to me about numbers. I'm almost afraid I'll get lost!" + +"I should be quite afraid of it, child. Where do you live?" + +"In Portland, in the State of Maine. Prudy and I came to New York: our +auntie sent for us--I know the place when I see it; side of a church +with ivy; but O, dear! I'm afraid the stage don't stop there. She's at +Mr. Stewart's--she and Prudy." + +"Do you mean Stewart's store?" + +"O, no'm; it's a man she knows," replied Dotty, confidently; "he lives +in a blue house." + +The lady asked no more questions. If Dotty had said "Stewart's store," +and had remembered that the curtains were blue, and not the building, +Miss Kopper would have thought she knew what to do; she would have sent +the child straight to Stewart's. + +"Poor little thing!" said she, twisting the long curl, which hung down +the back of her neck like a bell-rope, and looking as if she cared more +about her hair than she cared for all the children in Portland. "The +best thing you can do is to go right into the druggist's, next door but +one, and look in the City Directory. Do you know your aunt's husband's +name?" + +"O, yes'm. Colonel Augustus Allen, _Fiftieth_ Avenue." + +"Well, then, there'll be no difficulty. Just go in and ask to look in +the Directory; they'll tell you what stage to take. Now I must attend to +these ladies. Hope you'll get home safe." + +"A handsome child," said one of the ladies. "Yes, from the country," +replied Miss Kopper with a sweet smile; "I have just been showing her +the way home." + +Ah, Miss Kopper, perhaps you thought you were telling the truth; but +instead of relieving the country child's perplexity, you had confused +her more than ever. What should Dotty Dimple know about a City +Directory? She forgot the name of it before she got to the druggist's. + +"Please, sir, there's something in here,--may I see it?--that shows +folks where they live." + +"A policeman?" + +"No; O, no, sir." + +After some time, the gentleman, being rather shrewd, surmised what she +wanted, and gave her the book. + +"Not that, sir," said Dotty, ready to cry. + +Perhaps you will be as ready to laugh, when you hear that the child +really supposed a City Directory was an instrument that drew out and +shut up like a telescope, and, by peeping through it, she could see the +distant home of Colonel Allen, on "Fiftieth Avenue." + +The apothecary did not laugh at her; but, being a kind man, and, +moreover, not having curls hanging down his neck which needed attention, +he gave his whole care to Dotty, found an omnibus for her, told the +driver just where to let her out, and made her repeat her uncle's street +and number till he thought there was no danger of a mistake. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +DOTTY REBUKED. + + +One would have thought that now all Dotty's troubles were over; and so +they would have been, if she had not tried so hard to remember the +number. She said it over and over so many times, that all of a sudden it +went out of her mind. It was like rolling a ball on the ground, backward +and forward, till most unexpectedly it pops into a hole. Very much +frightened, Dotty bit her lip, twirled her front hair, and pinched her +left cheek--all in vain; the number wouldn't come. + +"O, dear, what'll I do? I'd open that cellar door, where the driver is; +but he's all done up in a blue cape, and don't know anything only how +to whip his horses. And there don't anybody know where anybody lives in +this city; so it's no use to ask. For what do they care? They'd tell you +to look in the Dictionary. There's nobody in Portland ever told me to +look in a Dictionary. Here they are, sitting round here, just as happy, +all but me. They all live in a number, and they know what it is; but +they keep it to themselves,--they don't tell. It always makes people +feel better to know where they're going to. When I'm in Portland I know +how to get to Park Street, and how to get to Munjoy, and how to get to +Back Cove, with my eyes shut. But they don't make things as they ought +to in New York. You can't find out what to do." + +So the stage rumbled, and Dotty grumbled. Presently a lady in an ermine +cloak got out, and Dotty did not know of anything better to do than to +follow. She certainly was on Fifth Avenue, and perhaps, if she walked +on, she should come to the number. + +"There isn't any house along here that looks like auntie's," said she, +anxiously; "only they all look like it some. I never saw such a place as +this city, So many same things right over, and over; and then, when you +go into 'em, its just as different, and not the place you s'posed it +was." + +Here Dotty ran up some steps, and rang a bell. She thought the damask +curtains looked familiar. + +"No, no," cried she, running down again, as fast as the mouse ran down +the clock; "my auntie don't keep onions in her bay window, I hope!" + +It was hyacinth bulbs, in glass vases, which had excited Dotty's +disgust. + +"O, I guess I'm on the wrong side of the street; no wonder I can't find +the house. There, I see a chamber window open; _our_ chamber window was +open. I'm going to cross over and get near enough to see if there's a +little clock on the shelf that ticks like a dog wagging his tail." + +No, there was no clock of any sort, and where the shelf ought to be was +a baby's crib. + +"Well, any way, here's that beautiful church, with ivy round it; it's +ever so near auntie's; so I'll keep walking." + +Dotty was right when she said the church was near auntie's--it was +within three doors; but she was wrong when she kept walking precisely +the wrong way. She crossed over to Sixth Avenue. Now, where were the +brown houses? She saw the horse-cars plodding along, and tried to read +the words on them. + +"'Sixth Ave. and Fifty-Ninth Street.' Why, what's an _ave_? I never heard +of such a thing before; we don't have 'aves' in Portland. There are ever +so many people getting out of that car. While it stops, I'll peep in, +and see where it's going to. Perhaps there's a name inside that tells." + +And, with her usual rashness, Dotty stepped upon the platform of the +car, and looked in. What she expected to see she hardly knew,--perhaps +"Aunt Madge's House," in gold letters; but what she really saw was, "No +Smoking;" those two words, and nothing more. + +"Well, who wants to smoke? I'm sure _I_ don't," thought Dotty, +disdainfully, and was turning to step off the platform, when Horace +Clifford seized her by the shoulder. + +"Where did you come from, you runaway?" said he, gruffly. + +Close beside him were Aunt Madge and Prudy; all three were getting out +of the car. + +"Thank Heaven, one of them is found," cried Aunt Madge, her face very +pale, her large eyes full of trouble. + +Prudy kissed and scolded in the same breath. "O, Dotty Dimple, you'd +better believe we're glad to see you?--but what a naughty girl! A pretty +race you've led Horace, and he just wild about Fly!" + +"H'm! what'd he go off for, then, and leave me there, sitting on a piano +stool? S'pose I's going to sit there all day? Didn't I want to go home +as much as the rest of you." + +"And how did you get home? I'd like to know that," said Horace, walking +on with great strides, and then coming back again to the "ladies;" for +his anxiety about his little sister would not allow him to behave +calmly. + +"I rode." + +"You weren't in the car _we_ came in." + +"N-o; I just happened to be peeking in there you know. But I came in an +_omnibius_." + +"It is wonderful," said Aunt Madge, looking puzzled, "that you ever knew +what omnibus to take." + +Dotty looked down to see if her boot was buttoned, and forgot to look up +again. "Well, _I_ shouldn't have known one _omnibius_, as you call it, +from another," said Prudy, lost in admiration. "Why, Dotty, how bright +you are! And there we were, so afraid about you, and spoke to a +policeman to look you up." + +"I wouldn't let a p'liceman catch _me_," said Dotty, tossing her head. +"But haven't you found Fly yet?" + +They were at home by this time, and Horace was ringing the bell. + +"No, the dear child is still missing; but the police are on her track," +said Aunt Madge, looking at her watch. "It is now one o'clock. Keep a +good heart, Horace, my boy. John shall go straight to the telegraph +office, and wait there for a despatch. Don't you leave us, dear; we +can't spare you, and you can do no good." + +Horace made no reply, except to tap the heels of his boots together. He +looked utterly crushed. A large city was just as strange to him as it +was to Dotty, and he could only obey his aunt's orders, and try to hope +for the best. Dotty seemed to be the only one who felt like saying a +word, and she talked incessantly. + +"O, what'd you send the p'lice after her for? To put her in the lockup, +and make her cry and think she's been naughty? It's the awfulest city +that ever I saw. Folks might send her home, if they were a mind to, but +they won't. They don't care what 'comes of you. There's cars and stages +going to which ways, and nothing but 'No Smoking,' inside. And I went +and peeped in at a window, and there was _onions_! And how'd I know +where to go to? There was a girl with a long curl, and she said, 'Go to +the 'pothecary's;' and what would Fly have known where she meant? And he +looked in a Dictionary, and put me in a stage,--I was going to tell you +about that when I got ready,--and asked me if I had ten cents, and I +had; and then I forgot what the number was, and that was the time I saw +the onions, or I should have gone right into somebody's else's house. +And I knew there was a church with ivy round, but Fly don't know; she's +nothing but a baby. And I should have thought, Horace Clifford, you +might have given her that money! That was what made her run off; you was +real cruel, and that's why I wouldn't mind what you said. And--and--" + +"Hush," said Aunt Madge, brushing back a spray of fair curls, which the +wind had tossed over her forehead. "I don't allow a word of scolding in +my house. If you don't feel pleasant, Dotty, you may go into the back +yard and scold into a hole." + +Dotty stopped suddenly. She knew her aunt was displeased; she felt it in +the tones of her voice. + +"Dotty, the wind has been at play with your hair as well as mine. +Suppose we both go up stairs a few minutes?" + +"There, auntie's going to reason with me," thought Dotty, winding slowly +up the staircase; "I didn't suppose she was one of that kind." + +"No dear, I'm _not_ one of that kind," said Mrs. Allen, roguishly; for +she saw just what the child was thinking. "'I come not here to talk.' +All I have to say is this: Disobey again, and I send you home +immediately." + +"Yes'm," said the little culprit, blushing crimson. "Now, brush your +hair, and let us go down." This was the only allusion Mrs. Allen ever +made to the subject; but after this, she and Dotty understood each other +perfectly. Dotty had learned, once for all, that her aunt was not to be +trifled with. + +The child really was ashamed--thoroughly ashamed; but do you suppose +she admitted it to Horace? Not she. And he, so full of anguish +concerning the lost Fly, found not a word of fault; scarcely even +thought of his naughty cousin at all. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +THE LOST FLY. + + +Now we must go back and see what has become of the little one. + +At first her heart had swollen with rage. Anger had set her going, just +as a blow from a battledoor sends off a shuttlecock. And, once being +started, the poor little shuttlecock couldn't stop. + +"Auntie gave me that skipt. Hollis is a very wicked boy; steals skipt +from little gee-urls. I don't ever want to see Hollis no more." + +What she meant to do, or where to go, she had no more idea than the blue +clouds overhead. She had no doubt her brother was close behind, trying +to overtake her. Her sole thought was, that she "wouldn't ever see +Hollis no more." She knew nothing could make him so unhappy as that. +"I'll lose me, and then how'll he feel?" + +"Lose me!" A wild thought, gone in a moment; but meanwhile she was +already lost. + +"I hope auntie won't give Hollis nuffin to eat, 'cause he's took away my +skipt; nuffin to eat but meat and vertato, athout any pie." + +Flyaway shook her head so hard, that the "war-plume" under her bonnet +would have nodded, if the air could have got at it. "Why, where's +Hollis?" said she, looking back, and finding, to her surprise, he was +not to be seen. "I spected he'd come. I thought I heard him walking +ahind me." + +Flyaway's anger had died out by this time. It never lasted longer than +a Fourth of July torpedo. + +"He didn't know I runned off. Guess I'll go back, and he'll give me the +skipt; and then I'll forgive him all goody." + +A very nice plan; only, instead of going back, she turned a corner, and +tripped along towards University Place. She had twisted her head so much +in looking for Horace, that it was completely turned round. And, +besides, a little farther on was a man playing a harp, and a small boy a +violin. Fly paused and listened, till she no longer remembered Horace or +the "skipt." She forgot this was New York, and dreamed she had come to +fairy-land. Her soul was full of music. Happy thoughts about nothing in +particular made her smile and clap her hands. Birds, flowers, Santa +Clauses, Flipperties, and "pepnits" seemed to hover near. Something +beautiful was just going to happen, she didn't know what. + +After the man had played for some time without attracting attention from +any body but Flyaway and a poor old beggar woman, he put his harp in a +green bag, slung it over his shoulder, and walked off. Flyaway followed +without knowing it. Down Sixth Avenue went the music-man, and close at +his heels went she. By and by she saw a little girl, no larger than +herself, with a great bundle on her shoulders. + +"You don't s'pose she's got a music on _her_ back?--No, not a music; +it's too soft all swelled out in a bunch." + +Fly went nearer the little girl, to see what she was carrying; and as +she did so, some gray coals, mixed with ashes, fell out of the bundle +upon her nice cloak. + +"Why, she's been and carried off her mother's fireplace," thought Fly, +shaking her cloak in disgust; "what you s'pose she wanted to do that +for?" + +But far from carrying off her mother's fireplace, the ragged little girl +had only been picking up old coal out of barrels, and was taking it home +to burn. It had already been burned once, and picked over and burned +again, and thrown away; but perhaps this poor child's mother could coax +it into a faint glow, warm enough to fry a few potatoes. + +While Flyaway was shaking her cloak, and staring at some old silk +dresses and bed-quilts, which were hung before a shop-door, the man with +the harp on his back, and the boy with a violin under his arm, had +turned a corner, and passed out of sight. Flyaway rubbed her eyes, and +looked again. They must have gone down through the brick pavement, but +she couldn't see any hole. Far away in the distance she heard their +music again, and it did not come from under ground. She ran to overtake +it, and turned into Bleecker Street. No music-man there, but a good +supply of oranges and apples. + +"Needn't folks put their hands in, and take some out the barrels? Then +why for did the folks put 'em on' doors?" + +While pondering this grave question, she was jostled by a man carrying a +rocking-chair, and very nearly fell down stairs into an oyster-saloon. A +minute more and she was back on Broadway, the very street, where Aunt +Madge and Prudy were waiting for her, but so much lower down that she +might as well have been in the State of Maine. + +"Now, I'll go find my Hollis," said she turning another corner, and +running the wrong way with all her might. Past candy-stalls, past +toy-shops, past orange-wagons. Hark, music again! Not the soft strains +of a harp, but the stirring notes of bugle, fife, and drum. Fly kept +time with her feet. + +"Here we go marchin' on," hummed she. But the crowd "marchin' on" with +her was a strange one. Carts full of hammers, pincers, and all sorts of +iron tools, and men in gray shirts, with black caps on their heads. Some +of the men had banners, with great black words, such as "Equal Rights," +or something like them, in German; but of course Fly could not tell one +letter from another. She only knew it was all very "homebly," in spite +of the music. She began to think she had better get away as soon as she +could; so she tried to cross the street, but some one held her back; it +was a lady, carrying a small dog in her arms, like a baby. + +"Don't go there, child; that's a strike, you'll get killed." + +Fly knew but one meaning for the word _strike_; and, tearing herself +from the lady, ran screaming down Broadway, with the thought that every +man's hand was against her. + +On she went, and on went the strike, close behind her. A little while +ago she had been following music, and now music was following her. But +the fifes and drums were rather slow, and Flyaway's feet were very +swift; so it was not long before the gray men, with their white banners +and clattering carts, were far behind her. No danger now that any of the +wicked creatures would strike her; so she slackened her pace. + +She did begin to wonder why she had not found Horace; still, she was not +at all alarmed, and there was a dreadful din in the streets, which +confused her thoughts. It seemed as if people were making it on purpose. +Once, at Willowbrook, she had heard boys banging tin pans, grinding +coffee mills, and pounding with mortars. She had liked that,--they +called it the "Calathumpian Band,"--and she liked this too; it sounded +about as uproarious. + +While she sauntered along, spying wonders, her eye was attracted by some +balancing-toys, which a man was showing off at one of the corners. What +a pleasant man he was, to set them spinning just to amuse little girls! +Fly was delighted with one wee soldier, in a blue coat with brass +buttons, who kept dancing and bowing with the greatest politeness. +"Captain Jinks, of the horse-marines," said the toy-man, introducing +him. "Buy him, miss; he'll make a nice little husband for you; only +fifteen cents." + +Fly felt quite flattered. It was the first time in her life any one had +ever asked her to buy anything, and she thought she must have grown tall +since she came from Indiana. She put her fingers in her mouth, then took +them out, and put them in her pocket. + +"Here's my porte-monnaie-ry," said she, dolefully; "but I haven't but +two cents--no more. Hollis carried it off." + +"Well, well, run along, then. Don't you see you're right in the way?" + +Fly was surprised and grieved at the change in the man's tone: she had +expected he would pity her for not having any money. + +"Come here, you little lump of love," called out a mellow voice; and +there, close by, sat a wizened old woman, making flowers into nosegays. +She had on a quilted hood as soft as her voice, but everything else +about her was as hard as the door-stone she sat on. + +"See my beautiful flowers," said the old crone, pointing to the table +before her; "who cares for them jumping things over yonder? I don't." + +The flowers were tied in bouquets--sweet violets, rosebuds, and +heliotrope. Fly, whose head just reached the top of the table, smelt +them, and forgot the "little husband, for fifteen cents." + +"He's a cross man, dearie," said the old woman, lowering her voice, "or +he wouldn't have sent you off so quick, just because you hadn't any +money. Now, I love little girls, and I'll warrant we can make some kind +of a trade for one of my posies." + +Fly smiled, and quickly seized a bouquet with a clove pink in it. + +"Not so fast, child! What you got that you can give me for it? I don't +mind the money. That old pocket-book will do, though 'tain't wuth much." + +It was very surprising to Fly to hear her port-monnaie called old; for +it was bought last week, and was still as red as the cheeks of the +painted lady. + +"I don't _dass_ to give folks my porte-monnaie-ry," said she, clutching +it tighter, but holding the flowers to her nose all the while. + +"O, fudge! Well, what else you got in your pocket? A handkerchief?" + +"No, my hangerfiss is in my muff." + +"That? Why, there isn't a speck o' lace on it. Nice little ladies always +has lace. Here's a letter in the corner; what is it?" + +"Hollis says it's K; stands for Flyaway." + +"Well, you're such a pretty little pink, I guess I'll take it; but +'tain't wuth lookin' at," said the crafty old woman, who saw at a glance +it was pure linen, and quite fine. + +"Now run along, baby; your mummer will be waitin' for you." + +Fly walked on slowly. Ought she to have parted with her very best +hangerfiss! + +"Nice ole lady, loved little gee-urls; but what you s'pose folks was +goin' to cry into now?" + +Tears started at the thought. One of them dropped into the eye of the +squirrel, who sat on the muff, peeping up into her face. + +"Nice ole lady, I s'pose; but folks never wanted to buy my +_hangerfisses_ byfore!" thought Fly, much puzzled by the state of +society in New York. "And I've got some beau-fler flowers to my auntie's +house. Wake up--wake up!" added she, blowing open a pink rose-bud; +"you's too little for me." + +But the bud did not wish to wake up and be a rose; it curled itself +together, and went to sleep again. + +"I don't see where Hollis stays to all the time," exclaimed the little +one, beginning to have a faint curiosity about it. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +"THE FRECKLED DOG." + + +But just then a gentle-looking blind girl came along led by a dog. The +sight was so strange that Flyaway stopped to admire; for whatever else +she might be afraid of, she always loved and trusted a dog. + +"Doggie, doggie," cried she, patting the little animal's head. + +"O, _what_ a sweet voice," said the blind girl, putting out her hand and +groping till she touched Fly's shoulder. "I never heard such a voice!" + +This was what strangers often said, and Flyaway never doubted the +sweetness was caused by eating so much candy; but just now she had had +none for two days. + +"What makes you shut your eyes up, right in the street, girl? Is the +_seeingness_ all gone out of 'em?" + +"Yes, you darling. I haven't had any seeingness in my eyes for a year." + +"You didn't? Then you's _blind-eyed_," returned Flyaway, with perfect +coolness. + +"And don't you feel sorry for me--not a bit?" + +"No, 'cause your dog is freckled so pretty." + +"But I can't see his freckles." + +"Well, he's got 'em. Little yellow ones, spattered out all over him." + +"But if I had eyes like you, I shouldn't need any dog. I could go about +the streets alone." + +"Well, I don't like to go 'bout the streets alone; I want my own +brother Hollis." + +"I hope you haven't got lost, little dear?" + +"No," laughed Fly, gayly; "I didn't get lost! But I don't know where +nobody is! And there don't nobody know where _I_ am!" + +The blind girl took Fly's little hand tenderly in hers. + +"Come, turn down this street with me, and tell me all about it." + +Fly trudged along, prattling merrily, for about a minute: then she drew +away. "'Tisn't a nice place; I don't want to go there." + +A look of pain crossed the blind girl's face. + +"No, I dare say you don't. It isn't much of a place for folks with silk +bonnets on." + +"You can't see my bonnet; you can't see anything, you're blind-eyed; +but," said Fly, glancing sharply around, "it isn't pretty here, at all; +and there's a dead cat right in the street." + +"Yes, I think likely." + +"And there's a boy. I spect he frowed the cat out the window; he hasn't +nuffin on but dirty cloe's." + +"Do you see some steps?" said the blind girl, putting her hand out +cautiously. "Don't fall down." + +"I shan't fall down; I'm going home." + +"O, don't child; you must come with me. My mother will take care of +you." + +"I don't want nobody's mother to take 'are o' me; I've got a mamma +myself!" + +"How little you know!" said the blind girl, thinking aloud; "how lucky +it is I found you! and O, dear, how I wish I could see! You'll slip +away in spite of me." + +But Flyaway allowed herself to be drawn along, step by step, partly +because she liked the "freckled dog," and partly because she had not +ceased being amused by the droll sight of a person walking with closed +eyes. + +"What's the name of you, girl?" + +"Maria." + +"Maria? So was my mamma; her name was Maria, when she was a little girl. +O, look, there's another boy; don't you see him? Up high, in that house. +Got a big box with a string to it." + +A very rough-looking boy was standing at a third-story window, lowering +a bandbox by a clothes-line. As Fly watched the box slowly coming down, +the boy called out,-- + +"Get in, little un, and I'll give you a free ride." + +"O, no--O, no; I don't _dass_ to." + +"Yes, yes; go in, lemons," said the boy, choking with laughter, as he +saw the child's horror. "If you don't do it, by cracky, I'll come down +and fetch you." + +At this, Fly was frightened nearly out of her senses, and ran so fast +that the dog could scarcely have kept up with her, even if he had not +had a blind mistress pulling him back. + +"O, where are you?" exclaimed Maria. "Don't run away from me,--don't!" + +"He's a-gon to kill me in two," cried Flyaway, stopping for breath.' +"he's a-gon to kill me in two-oo!" + +"No, he isn't, dear! It's only Izzy Paul He couldn't catch you, if he +tried. He's lame, and goes on crutches." + +"But he said a swear word,--yes he, did," sobbed the child, never +doubting that a boy who could swear was capable of murder, though he had +neither hands nor feet. + +"Stop, now," said Maria, clutching Fly as if she had been a spinning +top. "This is my house. Mother, mother, here's a little girl; catch +her--hold her--keep her!" + +"Me? What should I catch a little girl for?" said Mrs. Brooks, a faded +woman with a tired face, and a nose that moved up and down when she +talked. She had been standing at the door of their tumbledown tenement, +looking for her daughter, and was surprised to see her bringing a +strange child with her. It was not often that well-dressed people +wandered into that dirty alley. + +"The poor little thing has got lost, mother. Perhaps _you_ can find out +where she came from. I didn't ask her any questions; it was as much as I +could do to keep up with her." + +Maria put her hand on her side. Fast walking always tired her, for she +was afraid every moment of falling. + +They had to go down a flight of stairs to get into the house; and after +they got there Fly looked around in dismay. + +"I don't want to stay in the stable," she murmured. Indeed it was not +half as nice as the place where her father kept his horse. + +"But this is where we have to live," sighed Maria. + +"Have things to eat?" asked the little stranger, in a solemn whisper. + +There were a few chairs with broken backs, a few shelves with clean +dishes, a few children with hungry faces. In one corner was a clumsy +bedstead, and in a tidy bed lay a pale man. + +"Who've you got there, Maria?" said he. "Bring her along, and stick her +up on the bed." + +"Don't be afraid," said Mrs. Brooks; "it's only pa; wouldn't the little +girl like to talk to him? He's sick." + +Flyaway was not at all afraid, for the man smiled pleasantly, and did +not look as if he would hurt anybody. Mrs. Brooks set her on the bed, +and Maria, afraid of losing her, held her by one foot. The children all +crowded around to see the little lady in a silk bonnet holding a +button-hole bouquet to her bosom. + +"Ain't she a ducky dilver!" said the oldest boy. "Pa'll be pleased, for +he don't see things much. Has to keep abed all the time." + +Mr. Brooks tried to smile, and Flyaway whispered to Maria, with sudden +pity,-- + +"Sorry he's sick. Has he got to stay sick? Can't you find the camphor +bottle?" + +"O, father, she thinks if ycu had some camphor to smell of, 'twould cure +you." + +Then they all laughed, and Fly timidly offered the sick man her flowers. + +"What, that pretty posy for me? Bless you, baby, they'll do me a sight +more good than camfire!" + +"There," said Maria, joyfully, "now pa is pleased; I know by the sound +of his voice. Poor pa! only think, little girl, a stick of timber fell +on him, and lamed him for life!" + +"Yes," said Bennie, "the lower part of him is as limber as a rag." + +"She don't sense a word you say," remarked Mrs. Brooks, shaking up a +pillow, "See what we can get out of her. What's your name, dear?" + +"Katie Clifford." + +"Where do you live?" + +"I _have_ been borned in Nindiana." + +Fly spoke with some pride. She considered her birth an honor to the +state. + +"But where did you come from, Katie? That's what we mean." + +"I camed from heaven," said the child, with one of her wise looks. + +"Beats all, don't she?" cried Mr. Brooks, admiringly. "Looks like an +angel, I declare for't. Did you just drop down out of the sky?" + +"No, sir," answered Flyaway, folding her little hands as if she were +saying her prayers; "I camed down when I was a baby." + +[Illustration: "I CAMED DOWN WHEN I WAS A BABY."] + +"That's what makes your hair so _goldy_," said Bennie. "Mother, did you +ever see such eyes? Say, did you ever? So soft, and kinder shiny, too." + +"Children, don't stare at her; it makes her uneasy." + +"_I_ can't stare at her," said Maria, bitterly. "I suppose you don't +mean me, mother." + +Mrs. Brooks only answered her poor daughter by a kiss. + +"Well, little Katie, after you were born in _Nindiana_, you came to New +York. When did you come?" + +"One of these other days I camed here with Hollis." + +"Who's Hollis?" + +"He's my own brother. Got a new cap. Had his hair cut." + +"Who did you come to New York to see?" "My auntie." + +"Her auntie! A great deal of satisfaction we are likely to get out of +this child," said Mr. Brooks, laughing. He had not laughed before for a +week. + +"What's your auntie's name?" + +"Aunt Madge." + +"Is she married?" + +"O, yes; and so's Uncle 'Gustus. Married together, and live together, +just the same." + +"Uncle 'Gustus who? Now we'll come at it!" + +"Alling," replied Fly, her quick eyes roving about the room, for she was +tired of these questions. + +"Allen, Augustus Allen!" said Mr. Brooks, in surprise; "I wonder if +there can be two of them. Tell me, child, how does he look?" + +"Don't look like you," replied Fly, after a keen survey of Mr. Brooks. +"Your face is pulled away down long, like that;" (stretching her hand +out straight) "Uncle 'Gustus's face is squeezed up short" (doubling her +hand into a ball) + +"I'll warrant it is the colonel himself," said Mrs. Brooks, smiling at +the description. + +"Yes, that's the name of him; the 'kernil's' the name of him." + +"Is it possible!" said Mr. Brooks, looking very much pleased. + +"Uncle 'Gustus has curly hair on his cheeks, on his mouf, all round. +_Not_ little prickles, sticking out like needles." + +"O, you girl!" said Bennie, frowning at Fly. "You mustn't laugh at my +pa's beard. There's a man comes in, sometimes, and shaves him nice; but +now the man's gone to Newark." + +"Is it possible," repeated Mrs. Brooks, taking the child's hand, "that +this is Colonel Allen's little niece, and my Maria found her!" + +"Your Maria didn't find me," said Fly, decidedly; "I founded Maria." + +"So she did, pa. The first thing I knew, I heard somebody calling, +Doggie, doggie,' in such a sweet voice; and then I looked--no, of course +I _couldn't_ look." + +Here the discouraged look came over Maria's mouth, and she said no more. + +"There, there, cheer up, daughter," said Mr. Brooks, with tears in his +eyes; "I was only going on to say, it is passing strange that any of our +family should run afoul of one of the colonel's folks." + +"It's the Lord's doings; I haven't the slightest doubt of it," said Mrs. +Brooks, earnestly. "You know what I've been saying to you, pa." + +"There, there, ma'am, _don't_," said Mr. Brooks; "don't go to raising +false hopes. You know I'm too proud to beg of anybody's folks." + +"Why, pa, I shouldn't call it begging just to tell Colonel Allen how you +are situated! Do you suppose, if he knew the facts of the case, he'd be +willing to let you suffer? Such a faithful man as you used to be to +work." + +"No, I think it's likely he wouldn't. He's got more heart than some rich +folks; but I hain't no sort of claim on the colonel, if I did help build +his house. And then, ma'am, you know I've been kind o' hopin'--" + +"Guess I'll go now, and find Hollis," said Fly, slipping down from the +bed, for the talk did not interest her. + +"O, but I want to go with you, Katie," said Mrs. Brooks, coaxingly. +"Bennie, you amuse her, while I change my dress." + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +MARIA'S MOTHER. + + +"I know your uncle must feel dreadfully to lose you; but never +mind--he'll see you soon," said Mr. Brooks. + +"O, Uncle 'Gustus isn't there." + +"Not there?" said Mrs. Brooks, turning round from the cracked +looking-glass. "Where then?" + +"O, he's gone off." + +"Gone off? Why, pa, ain't that too bad? I'm right up and down +disappointed. But, then, the colonel has a wife; I can go to see her, +you know; and I'll tell her just how you're situ--" + +"My Aunt Madge is gone off, too." + +"You don't say so!" + +"And my brother Hollis is gone." + +"This is a funny piece of work if it's true," said Mr. Brooks, with +another genuine laugh; "you'd better ask her a few more questions before +you start out. Who else is gone? Have they shut the house up?" + +"Yes, sir; shut it right up tight." + +"Nobody in it, at all?" + +"No, only the men and women. Prudy's gone, and Dotty Dimple's gone, and +I'm gone." + +"Only the men and women, she says. That must be the servants. So the +house must be open, pa. At any rate, I shall take her. Say by-bye, my +pretty, and we'll be starting." + +Fly was very glad to go, but Maria clung to her fondly, and Bennie ran +after her almost to Broadway, where Mrs. Brooks took a Fifth Avenue +stage. She knew Colonel Allen's house very well, for she had seen it +more than once, while it was in process of building. That was two or +three years ago, when her husband was well, and the family lived very +comfortably on Thirty-third Street. She sighed as she thought how +different it was now. Mr. Brooks would never be able to work any more; +they hardly had food enough to eat, and poor Maria had lost her +eyesight. + +"Here we are, little Katie," said she. + +But the child did not wait to be helped out; she danced down the steps, +and would have flown across the street, if Mrs. Brooks had not caught +her. + +"I see it--I see it; my auntie's house. But there isn't nobody to it." + +The man who met them at the door was so surprised and delighted to see +Fly, that he forgot his manners, and did not ask Mrs. Brooks in. + +"Bless us, the baby's found!" cried he, and ran to spread the news. + +Aunt Madge was walking the parlor floor, and Horace sitting on the sofa, +as rigid as the marble elf Puck, just over his head. Prudy and Dotty had +joined hands, and were crying softly on the rug. As the police had been +notified of Fly's loss, all the family had to do was to wait. A servant +was at the nearest telegraph office, with a horse and carriage, and at +the first tidings would drive home and report. + +The words "The baby's found" rang through the house like a peal of +bells. In an instant Flyaway Runaway was clasped in everybody's arms, +and wet with everybody's tears. + +"Thought I'd come back," said the little truant, peeping up at her +agitated friends' with some surprise; "thought I'd come back and get my +skipt!" + +Then they exclaimed, in chorus,-- + +"Topknot _shall_ have her skipt! The blessed baby! The darling old Fly!" + +And Dotty wound up by saying,-- + +"Why, you see, we thought you's dead!" + +Flyaway, who had at first been very much astonished at the fuss made +over her, now looked deeply offended. + +"Who said I's dead? What--a--drefful--lie!" + +"O, nobody said so, Fly; only we thought p'rhaps you was; and _what_ +would we do without you, you know?" + +"Why, if I's dead," said Fly, untying her bonnet strings, "then the +funy-yal would come round and take me; that's all." + +"We are most grateful to you," said Aunt Madge, turning to Mrs. Brooks, +"for bringing home this lost child; but do tell us where you found her." + +Then Mrs. Brooks related all she knew of Fly's wanderings, the little +one putting in her own explanations. + +"I didn' be lost," said she sharply. "I feel jus' like frettin', when +you say I's lost. 'Tis the truly truth; I's walking on the streets, and +a naughty woman, she's got my hangerfiss--had ashes roses on it." + +"Yes, I put some otto of rose on it this morning," said Prudy. "What a +shame!" + +"And I gave my flowers to the sick man. He was on the bed, with a blue +bed-kilt. A girl name o' Maria, tookened me home. The seeingness is all +gone out of her eyes, so she can't see." + +"How long has your husband been sick?" asked Mrs. Allen of the woman, +while she was taking lunch in the dining-room. "Did you tell me he knew +Colonel Allen?" + +Mrs. Brooks dropped her knife and fork; but her lips trembled so she +could not speak. Flyaway, who sat in Horace's lap, eating ginger-snaps, +exclaimed, "She wants some perjerves, auntie. She don't get no +perjerves, nor nuffin nice to her house." + +"'Sh!" whispered Horace. The woman looked so respectable and well bred, +that it seemed a great rudeness to allude to her poverty. + +But Mrs. Brooks drank some water, and then answered Aunt Madge, +calmly,-- + +"I'm not ashamed of being poor, Mrs. Allen; it's no disgrace, for there +never was an honester man than my husband, nor none that worked harder, +till a beam fell on him from the roof of a house, two years ago, and he +lost the use of his limbs.--Yes, ma'am; he did use to know your husband. +He was one of the workmen that helped build this house. I came and +looked on when he was setting these very doors." + +"What is his name?" asked Aunt Madge, looking very much interested, and +taking out her note-book and pencil. "What street and number?" + +"Cyrus Brooks, Number Blank, Blank Street, ma'am. Before the accident, +we lived on Thirty-third Street, in very good shape; but, little by +little, we were obliged to sell off, and finally had to move into pretty +snug quarters. But we've always got enough to eat, such as it was," +added the good woman, trying not to show much she enjoyed her lunch. + +"I am very glad Providence has sent you here, Mrs. Brooks," said Aunt +Madge, warmly. "I know Colonel Allen will seek you out when he comes +home next week; but I shall not wait for that; I shall write him this +very night." + +Mrs. Brooks' heart was so full that she had to cry into a coarse purple +handkerchief of Bennie's, which happened to be in her pocket, and felt +very much ashamed because she could not find her voice again, or any +words in which to tell her gratitude. It was just as well, though. Mrs. +Allen knew words were not everything. It gave her pleasure to fill a +huge basket with nice things--wine and jelly for the sick man, plain +food for the family, and a pretty woolen dress for Maria, which had been +intended for Mrs. Fixfax, the housekeeper. + +The children looked on delighted, while the basket was filled with +these articles, then passed over to Nathaniel, who was going home with +Mrs. Brooks. It was amusing to watch Nathaniel, with the monstrous +burden in his hands trying to help Mrs. Brooks down the front steps; for +Aunt Madge was not enough of a fine lady to send the pair around by the +servants' door. + +It was pleasant, too, to watch Mrs. Brooks's happy face, half hidden in +the hood of her water-proof cloak, which kept puffing out, in the high +wind, like a sail. She was going home to tell her husband the Lord had +heard her prayers, and she had found a friend. + +"And you may depend I never talked so easy to anybody in my life, pa;" +this was what she thought she should say. "I didn't _have_ to beg. Mrs. +Allen is one of the Lord's own; I saw it the minute I clapped my eyes +on her face." + +"I am going to see that woman to-morrow, and ask some questions about +her blind daughter," said Aunt Madge, turning away from the window. + +"Ask 'bout her nose, too." + +"Whose nose, Fly?" + +"The woman's. It keeps a-moving when she talks." + +"There, who else noticed that?" exclaimed Horace, tossing his young +sister aloft. "It takes Fly, with her little eye, to see things." + +"But I didn't ask her nuffin 'bout it, though, Horace Clifford. God made +her so, with a wire in." + +Everybody smiled at the notion of Mrs. Brooks being a wax doll. + +"What a queer day it has been!" said Prudy. "Nothing but hide and seek. +We'll all keep together next time, and lock hands tight." + +"Of course," said Dotty, quickly; "but look here; don't you think +'twould be safer not to let Fly go with us? She was the one that made +all the fuss." + +"Want to know if she was," said Horace, slyly. "Guess there are two +sides to that story." + +"At any rate," struck in Aunt Madge, "Fly was the one that did the most +business. You went round doing good--didn't you, dear?" + +"Little city missionary," said Horace. + +Whereupon Miss Fly modestly dropped her head on her brother's shoulder. +She concluded she had done something wonderful in running after a dog. + +"On the whole," continued auntie, "we've all had a very hard time. It's +only three o'clock; but seems to me the day has been forty hours long. +Let us rest, now, and have a quiet little evening, and go to bed early." + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +FIVE MAKING A CALL. + + +The next morning everybody felt fresh, and ready for new adventures. + +"All going but the cat," said Fly, never doubting that her own company +was most desirable. + +"Look up in my eyes, little Topknot with the blue bonnet on. Will you +run away from brother Hollis again?" + +"Not if you don't take my skipt," replied Fly, looking as innocent as a +spring violet. + +"And look up in _my_ eyes, Horace Clifford. Will you run away from +Cousin Dotty, again?" said Miss Dimple, in a hurry to speak before Aunt +Madge came up to them, and before Horace had time for a joke. + +"I didn't run away from you, young lady, but I ran _after_ you, if I +remember," said Horace, dryly. "I don't mean to pursue you with my +attentions to-day. You seem to be able to take care of yourself." + +"Look," cried Aunt Madge, coming up to them with Prudy; "did you ever +before see a span of horses with a dog running between them?" + +"Never," said Doty; "what splendid horses! and don't the dog have to +trot, to keep up? How do you suppose he happened to get in there?" + +"O, he has been trained to it; dogs often are. Now, my young friends, it +seems we have started for Brooklyn again; but on our way to Fulton +Ferry, I would like to stop and see the Brooks family. We must all go +together, though. 'United we stand, divided we fall.'" + +"That's so," said Horace, as they entered the stage. "But, auntie, do +you have perfect faith in the story that woman tells? Perhaps her +hushand is only just lazy, and her daughter shams blindness. You know +what humbugs some of 'em are. I've read there's something they rub over +their eyes, that gives 'em the appearance of being as blind as a bat." + +Prudy looked up at Horace with admiration and respect. He spoke like a +person of deep wisdom and wide experience. + +"We will see for ourselves what we think of the family," said Aunt +Madge. + +"Now," said she, after they had ridden a mile or two, "we must get out +here, and walk a few blocks to the house. Fly, hold your brother's hand +tight." + +"There's the chamer where the boy lives that says swear words; and +there's the boy, ahind the window." + +"Have a free ride, little girl?" shouted Izzy Paul, laughing; for he +remembered faces as well as Fly did, and saw at once that it was the +same child he had frightened so the day before. But Fly never knew fear +where Horace was; she clung to him, and peeped out boldly between her +fingers. + +When they went "down cellow," as she called it, into Mr. Brooks's house, +Aunt Madge was surprised to see how bare it looked. But Dotty Dimple +need not have held her skirts so tightly about her, and brushed her +elbow so carefully when it hit against the wall; for the house was as +clean as hands could make it. + +"Mrs. Brooks, I hope you will forgive me for coming down upon you with +this little army," said Mrs. Allen, with such a cheery smile that the +sick man on the bed felt as if a flood of pure sunshine had burst into +the room. He was so tired of lying there, day after day, like a great +rag baby, and so glad to see anybody, especially the good lady who, his +wife said, was "so easy to talk to!" + +"Auntie, look! see the freckled doggie; and there's my flowers, true's +you live," cried Flyaway. + +"Yes, pa wanted them in a vial, close to his bed; it's the first he's +seen this winter," said Maria, stroking Fly as if she had been a kitten. + +"You may be sure, little lady, it will be as I said; they'll cure me +full as quick as camphire. And, thank the Lord, I can see as well as +smell," said Mr. Brooks, with a tender glance at Maria which made +Horace feel ashamed of himself. The idea of that poor child's rubbing +anything into her eyes? Why, she looked like a wounded bird that had +been out in a storm. Her face was really almost beautiful, but so sad +that you could not see it without a feeling of pity. + +"She looks as if she was walking in her sleep," thought Prudy, and +turned away to hide a tear; for somehow there was a chord in her heart +that thrilled strangely. That "slow winter" came back to her with a +rush, and she was sure she knew how Maria felt. + +"She is blind, and I was lame; but it is the same kind of a feeling. O, +how I wish I could help her!" + +Dotty was as sorry for Maria as she knew how to be, but she could not be +as sorry as Prudy was; for she had never had any trouble greater than a +sore throat. + +"I don't see why the tears don't come into my eyes as easy as they do +into Prudy's," thought she, trying to squeeze out a salt drop; "Mrs. +Brooks'll think I don't care a speck; but I do care." + +As for wee Fly, she took Maria's blindness to heart about as much as she +did the murder of the Hebrew children off in Judea. + +"Pitiful 'bout her seeingness; but I wished I had such a beauful dog!" + +Aunt Madge was struck with the exalted expression of Maria's face. The +child was only thirteen, but suffering had made her look much older. + +"My child," said she, putting her arm around the little girl, and +drawing her towards her, "I know you see a great deal with your mind, +even though your eyes are shut. Now, do tell me all about your +misfortune, and how it happened, for I came on purpose to hear." + +"Yes, we camed to purpose to hear," said Fly, from the foot-board of the +bed, where she had perched and prattled every moment since she came in. +"I founded Maria, and then I went up to her, and says I, 'Doggie, +doggie!'" + +"That was a pretty way to speak to her, I should think," said Dotty; +"but can't you just please to hush while auntie is talking?" + +"As near as I can tell the story," said Mrs. Brooks, rattling the poor +old coal-stove,--for she always had to be moving something else, as well +as her nose, when she talked,--"she lost her sight by studying too +hard, and then getting cold in her eyes." + +"She was always a master hand to study," put in Mr. Brooks. + +Maria looked as if she wanted to run and hide. She did not like to have +her father praise her before people. + +"Yes," said Mrs. Brooks, setting a chair straight; "and by and by the +_leds_ began to draw together, and she couldn't keep 'em open; and there +was such a pain in her eyes, too, that I had to be up nights, bathing +'em in all kinds of messes." + +"_Don't_ her nose jiggle?" whispered Fly to Horace. + +"Of course you took her to a good physician?" + +"Well, yes; we thought he was good. We went to three, off and on, but +she kept growing worse and worse. It was about the time her father was +hurt, and we spent an awful sight on her, till we couldn't spend any +more." + +"And it was all a cheat and a swindle," exclaimed Mr. Brooks, +indignantly. "We'd better have spent the money for a horsewhip, and +whipped them doctors with it!" + +"Don't, pa, don't! You see, Mrs. Allen, he gets so excited about it he +don't know what he says." + +"I wonder you did not take her to the City Hospital, Mrs. Brooks. There +she could be treated free of expense." + +"The fact is, we didn't dare to," replied Mrs. Brooks, taking up an old +shoe of Bennie's, and beginning to brush it; "there are folks that have +told us it ain't safe; they try experiments on poor folks." + +"O, I don't believe you need fear the City Hospital," said Mrs. Allen; +"the physicians there are honest men, and among the most skillful in +the country." + +"But that's our feeling on the subject, ma'am, you see," spoke up Mr. +Brooks, so decidedly, that Aunt Madge saw it was of no use to say any +more about it. "We don't want her eyes put out; there are times when she +can just see a little glimmer, and we want to save all there is left." + +"There are times when she can see? Then there must be hope, Mr. Brooks! +Let me take her to Dr. Blank; he can help her if any one can." + +"Well, now, I take it you're joking, Mrs. Allen. That is the very doctor +I wanted her to see in the first place; but they do say he'd ask six +hundred dollars for looking into her eyes while you'd wink twice." + +"You have been misinformed, Mr. Brooks; he never asks anything of +people who are unable to pay him. But even if he should in Maria's case, +I promise to take the matter into my own hands, and settle the bill +myself." + +"Mother, do you hear what she says!" cried Mr. Brooks, forgetting +himself, and trying to sit up in bed. + +But his wife had broken down, and was polishing Bennie's shoe with her +tears. + +"O, will you take me? Can I go to that doctor?" cried Maria, forgetting +her timidity, and turning her sightless eyes towards Mrs. Allen with a +joyful look, which seemed to glow through the lids. + +"Yes, dear child, I will take you with the greatest pleasure in life; +but remember, I don't promise you can be cured. Come with your mother, +to-morrow morning, at ten. Will that do, Mrs. Brooks? And now, good by, +all. Children, we must certainly be going." + +"God bless her," murmured the sick man, as the little party passed out. + +"Didn't I tell you she was an angel?" said his wife. + +"No, mother; it's that little tot that's the 'angel.' The Lord sent her +on ahead to spy out the land; and afterwards there comes a +flesh-and-blood woman to see it laid straight." + +"Pa thinks that baby is a spirit made out of air," said Maria, laughing +in high excitement. "And, mother, don't you really believe now the Lord +did send her, just as much as if she dropped down out of the sky?" + +"Yes, I hain't a doubt of it, Maria, but what the Lord had us in his +mind when he let the child slip off and get lost.--Pa, I'm going to +give you some of that blackberry cordial now: you look all gone." + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +"THE HEN-HOUSES." + + +While the Brooks family were talking so gratefully, and Maria counting +over the cookies and cups of jelly for the twentieth time, Fly, was +holding on to Horace's thumb, saying, as she skipped along,--"I hope the +doctor'll take a knife, and pick Maria's eyes open, so she can see." + +"Precious little _you_ care whether she can see or not," said Dotty. "I +don't think Fly has much feeling,--do you, Prudy?--not like you and I, I +mean!" + +"Pshaw! what do you expect of such a baby?" said Horace, indignantly. +"You never saw a child so full of pity as this one is, when she knows +what to be sorry for. But a great deal she understands about blindness! +And why should she?--Look here, Topknot; which would you rather do? Have +your eyes put out, and lots of candy to eat, _or_, your eyes all good, +and not a speck of candy as long as you live?" + +"I'd ravver have the candy '_thout_ blind-eyed?" + +"But supposing you couldn't have but one?" + +Fly reflected seriously for half a minute, and then answered, + +"I'd ravver have the candy _with_ blind-eyed!" + +"There, girls, what did I tell you?" + +"'Cause I could eat the candy athout looking, you know," added Fly, +shutting her eyes, and putting a sprig of cedar in her mouth, by way of +experiment. + +"You little goosie," said Prudy; "when Aunt Madge was crying so about +Maria, I did think you were a hard-hearted thing to look up and laugh; +but now, I don't believe you knew any better." + +"Hard-hearted things will soften," said auntie, kissing the baby's +puzzled face. "Little bits of green apples, how hard they are! but they +keep growing mellow." + +"O, you little green apple," cried Dotty, pinching Fly's cheek. + +"I was rather hard-hearted, if I remember, when I was an apple of that +size," continued Aunt Madge. "I could tell you of a few cruel things I +said and did." + +"Tell them," said Horace; "please 'fess." + +"Yes, auntie, naughty things are so interesting. Do begin and tell all +about it." + +"Not on the street, dears. Some time, during the holidays, I may turn +story-teller, if you wish it; but here we are at the ferry; now look out +for the mud." + +"O, what a place," cried Fly, clinging to Horace, and trying to walk on +his boots. "Just like where grampa keeps his pig!" + +"How true, little sister! but you needn't use my feet for a sidewalk. +I'll take you up in my arms. It snowed in the night; but that makes it +all the muddier." + +"Yes, it doesn't do snow any good to fall into New York mud," said Aunt +Madge; "it is like touching pitch." + +"I thought it felt like pitch," remarked Dotty; "sticks to your boots +so." + +"But, then, overhead how beautiful it is!" said Prudy. "I should think +the dirty earth would be ashamed to look up at such a clear sky." + +"But the sky don't mind," returned Horace; "it always overlooks dirt." + +"How very sharp we are getting!" laughed auntie; "we have begun the day +brilliantly. Any more remarks from anybody?" + +"I should like to know," said Dotty, "what all those great wooden things +are made for? I never saw such big hen-houses before!" + +"Hear her talk!" exclaimed auntie. "Hen-houses, indeed! Why, that is +Fulton Market. I shall take you through it when we come back. You can +buy anything in there, from a live eel to a book of poetry." + +"'In mud eel is,'" quoted Horace. "Reckon I'll buy one, auntie, and +carry it home in a piece of brown paper. I believe Dotty is fond of +eels." + +"Fond of eels! Why, Horace Clifford, you know I can't bear 'em, any +more'n a snake. If you do such a thing, Horace Clifford!" + +Here Prudy gave her talkative sister a pinch; for they were surrounded +by people, and Aunt Madge was giving ferry-tickets to a man who stood in +a stall, and brushed them towards him into a drawer. + +"Does he stay in it all night?" whispered Fly; "he can't lie down, no +more'n a hossy can." + +"Here, child, don't try to get down out of my arms. I must carry you +into the boat. Do you suppose I'd trust those wee, wee feet to go flying +over East River?" + +"For don't we know she has wings on her heels?" said Aunt Madge. + +Fly twisted around one of her little rubbers, and looked at it. She +understood the joke, but thought it too silly to laugh at. East River +lay smiling in the sun, white with sails. + +"Almost as pretty as our Casco Bay," said Dotty. "'Winona;' is that the +boat we are going in? But, Horace, you must cross to the other side, +where it says 'Gentlemen's Cabin.'" + +"How kind you are to take care of me! Wish you'd take as good care of +yourself, Cousin Dimple." + +And Horace walked straight into the "Ladies' Cabin." There were more men +in it, though, than women; so he had the best side of the argument. + +"Horace," said Aunt Madge, as they seated themselves, "where is your +money?" + +"Money? O, in the breast pocket of my coat." + +"But don't you remember, my boy, I advised you to leave it at home? See +that placard, right before your eyes." + +"'Beware of Pickpockets!'" read Horace. "Well, auntie, I intend to +beware." + +Mrs. Allen did not like his lord-of-creation tone. It was not exactly +disrespectful. He adored his aunt, and did not mean to snub her. At the +same time he had paid no attention to her advice, and his cool, +self-possessed way of setting it one side was very irritating. If Mrs. +Allen had not been the sweetest of women, she would have enjoyed boxing +his ears. + +"I wish he was two years younger, and then he would have to obey me," +thought she; "but I don't like to lay my commands on a boy of fourteen." + +The truth was, Horace had a large swelling on the top of his head, known +by the name of self-esteem; and it had got bruised a little the day +before, when he was obliged to stand one side, and let his aunt manage +about finding Flyaway. + +"I suppose she thinks I'm a ninny, just because I don't understand this +bothersome city; but I reckon I know a thing or two, if I don't live in +New York!" + +And the foolish boy really took some satisfaction in slapping his breast +pockets, and remarking to his friends,-- + +"'Twould take a smart chap to get his hand in there without my knowing +it. O, Prudy, where's your wallet? And yours, Dotty? I can carry them as +well as not. There's no knowing what kind of a muss you may be getting +into before night." + +Prudy gave up hers without a word, but Dotty demurred. + +"I guess I've got eyes both sides my head, just the same as Horace has, +if I am a girl." + +She and Cousin Horace usually agreed, but this visit had begun wrong. + +"Very well, Dot; if you think 'twould be any consolation to you to have +somebody come along with a pair of scissors, and snip off your pocket, I +don't know as it's any of my business." + +"See if they do," replied Dotty, clutching her pocket in her right hand. + +They had been speaking in loud tones, and perhaps had been overheard; +for two men, on the same seat, began to talk of the unusual number of +robberies that had happened within a few days and to wonder "what we +were coming to next." In consequence of this, Dotty pinned up her +pocket. When they reached Brooklyn, she gave her left hand to Horace, in +stepping off the boat, and walked up Fulton Street, with her right hand +firmly grasping the skirt of her dress. + +"Good for you, Dimple!" said Horace, in a low tone; "that's one way of +letting people know you've got money. Look behind you! There's been a +man following you for some time." + +"Where? O, where?" cried Dotty, whirling round and round in wild alarm; +"I don't see a man anywhere near." + +"And there isn't one to be seen," said Aunt Madge, laughing; "there's +nobody following you but Horace himself. He had no right to frighten you +so." + +"Horace!" echoed Dotty, with infinite scorn; "I don't call _him_ a man! +He's nothing but a small boy!" + +"A small boy!" She had finished the business now. + +"The hateful young monkey!" thought Horace. "I shouldn't care much if +she did have her pocket picked." + +If he had meant a word of this, which he certainly did not, he was well +paid for it afterwards. + +They went to Greenwood Cemetery, which Dotty had to confess was +handsomer than the one in Portland. Fly thought there were nice places +to "hide ahind the little white houses," which frightened her brother so +much, that he carried her in his arms every step of the way. After +strolling for some time about Greenwood, and taking a peep at Prospect +Park, they left the "city of churches," and entered a crowded car to go +back to the ferry. + +"Look out for _our_ money," whispered Prudy; "you know auntie says a car +is the very place to lose it in." + +"Yes; I'll look out for your pile, Prue, though I dare say you don't +feel quite so easy about it as you would if Dot had it." + +"Wow, Horace, don't be cross; you know it isn't often I have so much +money." + +Aunt Madge here gave both the children a very expressive glance, as much +as to say,-- + +"Don't mention private affairs in such a crowd." + +Colonel Allen said if his wife had been born deaf and dumb nobody would +have mistrusted it, for she could talk with her eyes as well as other +people with their tongues. + +When they were on the New York side once more, Mrs. Allen said,-- + +"Now I will take you through Dotty's hen-houses. What have we here? O, +Christmas greens." + +A woman stood at one of the stands, tying holly and evergreens together +into long strips, which she sold by the yard. + +"We must adorn the house, children. I will buy some of this, if you will +help carry it home." + +"Load me down," said Horace; "I'll take a mile of it." + +"Loaden me down, too; _I'll_ take it a mile," said Fly. + +"Give me that beautiful cross to carry, auntie." + +"Are you willing to carry crosses, Prudy? Ah, you've learned the lesson +young!" + +"I like the star best," said Dotty; "why can't they make suns and moons, +too!" + +"Will you have a _hanker_, my pretty miss?" said the woman, dropping a +courtesy. + +"I never heard of a _hanker_; it looks some like a kettle-hook. Let's +buy it; see how nicely it fits on Fly's shoulder." + +"It would look better for Fly to sit on the anchor," said Mrs. Allen, +smiling. "It is droll enough to see such a big thing walking off with a +little girl under it. Come, children, we have bought all we can carry." + +"Thank you kindly, lady," said the evergreen woman, with another +courtesy. + +"I don't see why she need thank you kindly, auntie," said Dotty. "You +wouldn't have bought her wreaths if you hadn't liked 'em." + +They walked through a long space lined with such nice things that the +children's mouths watered--oranges, figs, grapes, pears, French +chestnuts larger than oil-nuts, and, as if that were not enough, +delicious-looking pies, cakes, cold ham, and doughnuts. On little +charcoal stoves stood coffee-pots; and there was a great clattering of +plates and cups and saucers, which men were washing in little pans, and +wiping on rather dark towels. + +"It strikes me I should enjoy going into one of those cuddy-holes and +eating my dinner," said Horace. "I feel about starved." + +"You have a right to be hungry. It is two o'clock. How would you like +some oysters? In here is a large room, with tables; rather more +comfortable than these 'cuddy-holes,' as you call them." + +"Only not nice," said Prudy. "O, Horace, if you should go once to an +oyster saloon in Boston, you'd see the difference!" + +"The probability is, I've been in Boston saloons twice to your once, +ma'am." + +Which was correct. She had been once, and he twice. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +"GRANNY." + + +Aunt Madge seated her four guests at a little table. + +"Will you have oysters or scallops?" + +"What are scallops?" + +"They are a sort of fish; taste a little like oysters. They come out of +those small shells, such as you've seen pin-cushions made of." + +The children thought they should prefer oysters; and after the stews +were ordered, Mrs. Allen went out, and soon returned with a dessert of +cake, pie, and fruit. + +"I thought I would bring it all at once," said she, "just what I know +you will like; and then sit down and be comfortable. We'll lay the +wreaths under the table. There are no napkins, girls (this isn't Boston, +you know); so you'd better tuck your handkerchiefs under your chins." + +"But is this the handsomest place they've got in New York, without any +carpet to it?" whispered Dotty. + +"We'll see, one of these days," replied auntie, with a smile that spoke +volumes. + +It was a very jolly dinner, and Mrs. Allen had to send for three plates +of scallops; for the children found, after tasting hers, that they were +very nice; all but Fly, who did not relish them, and thought it was +because she did not like to eat pin-cushions. + +"Now, little folks, if you have eaten sufficiently, and are thoroughly +rested, shall we start for home? I think a journey to Brooklyn is about +enough for one day--don't you? But you musn't leave without seeing +Granny." + +"Granny?" + +"Yes, I call her so, and it pleases her. She has had a little table in +the market for a long while, and I like to buy some of her goodies just +to encourage her, for she has such a way of looking on the bright side +that she wins my respect. Listen, now, while I speak to her." + +Auntie's old woman had on a hood and shawl, and was curled up in a +little heap, half asleep. + +"Pleasant day," said Mrs. Allen, going up to the table. + +"Yes, mum; nice weather _underful_," returned the old woman, rousing +herself, and rubbing an apple with her shawl. + +"And how do you do, Granny?" + +"Why, is that you?" said she, the sun coming out all over her face. +"And how've you been, mum, since the last time I've seen yer?" + +"Very well, Granny; and how do things prosper with you?" + +"O, _I'm_ all right! I've had a touch of rheumaty, and this is the fust +I've stirred for two weeks." + +"Sorry to hear it, Granny. Rheumatism can't be very comfortable." + +"Well, no; it's bahd for the jints," said the old woman, holding up her +fingers, which were as shapeless as knobby potatoes. + +"Poor Granny! How hard that is!" + +"Well, they be hard, and kind o' stiff-like. But bless ye," laughed she, +"that's nothing. I wouldn't 'a' cared, only I's afeared I'd lose this +stand. There was a gyurl come and kep' it for me, what time she could +spare." + +"I'm glad you havn't lost the stand, Granny; but I don't see how you can +laugh at the rheumatism." + +"Well, mum, what'd be the use to cry? Why, bless ye, there's wus +things'n that! As long's I hain't got no husband, I don't feel to +complain!" + +She shook her sides so heartily at this, that Fly laughed aloud. + +"So you don't approve of husbands, Granny?" + +"No more I don't, mum; they're troublesome craychers, so fur as I've +seen." + +"But don't you get down-hearted, living all alone?" + +"O, no, mum; I do suppose I'm the happiest woman in the city o' New +Yorruk. When I goes to bed, I just gives up all my thrubbles to the +Lord, and goes to sleep." + +"But when you are sick, Granny?" + +"O, then, sometimes I feels bahd, not to be airnin' nothin', and gets +some afeard o' the poorhouse; but, bless ye, I can't help thinking the +Lord'll keep me out." + +"I'm pretty sure He will," said Aunt Madge, resolving on the spot that +the good old soul never should go to a place she dreaded so much. "Have +you any butter-scotch to-day, Granny?" + +"O, yes, mum; sights of it. Help yourself. I want to tell you +something'll please you," said the old woman, bending forward, and +speaking in a low tone, and with sparkling eyes. "I've put some money in +the bank, mum; enough to bury me! _Ain't_ that good!" + +Prudy and Dotty were terribly shocked. She must be crazy to talk about +her own funeral. As if she was glad of it, too? But Horace thought it a +capital joke. + +"That's a jolly way to use your money," whispered he to Prudy; "much +good may it do her?" And then aloud, in a patronizing tone, "I'll take a +few of your apples, Granny. How do you sell 'em?" + +"These here, a penny apiece; them there, two pennies; and them, three." + +Horace felt in his coat pocket for his purse; and drew out his hand +quickly, as if a bee had stung it. + +"Why, what! What does this mean?" + +"What is it, Horace?" + +"Nothing, auntie, only my wallet's gone," replied the boy, very white +about the mouth. + +"Gone? Look again. Are you sure?" + +"Yes, as sure as I want to be?" + +"Mine,--is mine gone too?" cried Prudy. + +Horace did not seem willing to answer. + +"Where did you have your purse last?" + +"Just before we came out of Dorlon's oyster saloon. Just before we came +here for butter-scotch," replied Horace, glaring fiercely at Granny. + +"Are you quite sure?" + +"Is mine gone, too?" cried Prudy again. "Did you put mine in the same +pocket?" + +"Yes, Prue; I put yours in the same pocket; and it's gone, too." + +"O, Horace!" + +"A pretty clean sweep, Prue." + +"The _vilyins_!" cried Granny; looking, auntie thought, as if her whole +soul was stirred with pity for the children; but, as Horace thought, as +if she were trying to put a bold face on a very black crime. + +"Let us go back to Dorlon's, and ask the waiters if you dropped it in +there," suggested Aunt Madge. + +"Yes, but _I know I didn't,"_ said Horace, with another scowl at Granny. + +"_My_ money is safe," said self-righteous Dotty, as they walked away; +"don't you wish you _had_ given yours to me, Prudy?" + +"The deceitful old witch!" muttered Horace; meaning Granny, of course. + +And lo, there she stood close behind them! She was beckoning Mrs. Allen +back to her fruit-stand. + +"Wait here one minute, children; I'll be right back." + +"Nothin', mum," said Granny, looking very much grieved; "nothin' only I +wants to say, mum, if that youngster thinks as I took his money, I wisht +you'd sarch me." + +"Fie, Granny! Never mind what a boy like that says, when he is excited. +I know you too well to think you'd steal." + +"The Lord bless you, mum," cried the old woman, all smiles again. + +"And, Granny, I mean to come here next week, and I'll bring you some +flannel and liniment for your rheumatism. Where shall I leave them if +you're sick, and can't be here?" + +"O, thank ye, mum; thank ye kindly. The ain't many o' the likes of you, +mum. And if ye does bring the things for my rheumaty, and I ain't here, +just ye leave 'em with the gyurl at this stand, if yer will." + +"Did she give it back?" cried Horace, the moment his aunt appeared. + +"No, my boy; how could she when she hadn't it to give?" + +"But, auntie, I'm up and down sure I felt that wallet in my +breast-pocket, when we came out of Dorlon's," persisted Horace. "I don't +see how on earth that old woman contrived it; but I can't help +remembering how she kept leaning forward when she talked; and once she +hit square against me. And just about that time I was drawing out my +handkerchief to wipe my nose." + +"Yes, he did! He wiped his nose. And the woman tookened the money; I saw +her do it." + +"There, I told you so!" + +"You saw her, Miss Policeman Flyaway?" said Aunt Madge. "And pray how +did she take it?" + +"Just so,--right in her hand." + +"O, you mean the money for the butter-scotch, you little tease!" + +"Yes," replied the child, with a roguish twinkle over the sensation she +had made. + +"Just like little bits o' flies," said Dotty. "Don't care how folks +feel. And here's her brother ready to cry; heart all broken." + +"Needn't be concerned about my heart, Dot; 'tisn't broken yet; only +cracked. But how anybody could get at my pocket, without my knowing it, +is a mystery to me, unless Granny is a witch." + +"Horace, I pledge you my word Granny is innocent." + +"And I'm sure nobody else could take it, auntie. The clerks at Dorlon's +had no knowledge of the money; neither had any of the apple or pie +merchants along the market. Things look darker for us, Prue; but I will +give you the credit of behaving like a lady. And one thing is sure--the +moment I get home to Indiana I shall send you back your money." + +"Horace," said Aunt Madge, "I am very suspicious that you lost your +purse in one of those cars, on the Brooklyn side." + +"But, auntie, I tell you there couldn't anybody get at my pockets +without my knowing it!" + +"Just as Prudy told you you would, you lost it in that car," echoed +Dotty. "Don't you remember what you said, Prudy?" + +"That's right; hit him again," growled Horace. + +"Now, Dotty," said Prudy, suppressing a great sob in her effort to +"behave like a lady," "what's the use? Don't you suppose Horace feels +bad enough without being scolded at?" + +"Auntie don't scold, nor Prudy don't, 'cause he didn't mean to lose +it," said Fly, frowning at Dotty, and caressing Horace, with her hands +full of evergreens. + +"Besides, he has lost more than I have," continued Prudy. + +"Well, a trifle more! Fifty times as much, say. I shouldn't care a +fig,--speaking figuratively,--only it was all I had to get home with." + +"Don't fret about that," said Aunt Madge; "I'll see that you go home +with as full a purse as you brought to my house." + +"O, auntie, how can I thank you? But you know father never would allow +that!" + +"I could tell you how to thank me," thought Mrs. Allen, though she was +so kind she would _not_ tell; "you could thank me by saying, 'Auntie, +I've been a naughty boy.'" + +But Horace had no idea of making such a confession as that. "The +money'll come up," said he; "I'm one of the lucky kind. Let's see; +wouldn't it be best to advertise?" + +"Thieves won't answer advertisements," said Mrs. Allen. + +"But, I tell you, auntie, I dropped that wallet. I could take my oath of +it." + +"Well, in such a case an advertisement is the proper thing. But, my boy, +your positiveness on this subject is extraordinary. How could you drop +the wallet? Do you keep it in the same pocket with your handkerchief?" + +"On, no, auntie; right in here." + +"And you haven't bought anything?" + +"No, auntie; you wouldn't let me pay the car fare, or anything else. But +still I must have taken out the wallet by mistake. You see I _know_ +nobody's picked my pockets." + +"Why, Horace, you just said Granny picked 'em." + +"No, Dot, I didn't! I only spoke of the queer way she had of leaning +forward." + +"But you scowled at her sharp enough to take head off." + +"If I were you, Dot, I wouldn't be any more disagreeable than I was +absolutely obliged to.--Now, auntie, how much does it cost to +advertise?" + +"A dollar or so I believe." + +"Well, if you'll lend me the money, I want to do it." + +"To be plain with you, Horace, I really do not think it will be of the +slightest use in this case; but I will consent to it if it will be any +relief to your mind. We shall be obliged to cross the ferry again, for +the advertisement ought to go into a Brooklyn paper." + +"We are tired enough to drop," said Dotty; "and all these stars and +things, too!" + +"Yes, we are all tired; but we will leave you little girls at the +ferry-house on the other side." + +"But, auntie," said Prudy, anxiously, "I shouldn't really dare have the +care of Fly. You know just how it is." + +"Yes, I do know just how it is. Fly must walk, with her tired little +feet, to the Eagle office, with Horace and me; or else she must make a +solemn promise not to go out of the ferry-house." + +"But I don't want to make a _solomon_ promise, auntie; I want to see the +eagle." + +Mrs. Allen sighed. She began to think she had undertaken a great task +in inviting these children to visit her. Instead of a pleasure, they had +proved, thus far, a weariness--always excepting Prudy. She, dear, +self-forgetting little girl, could not fail to be a comfort wherever she +went. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +THE PUMPKIN HOOD. + + +To the "Eagle" office they went--obstinate Horace, patient Annt Madge, +and between them the "blue-bottle Fly." + +"I do feel right sorry, auntie," said Horace, a sudden sense of shame +coming over him; "but I'm so sure I dropped the money, you know; or I +wouldn't drag you up this hill when you're so tired." + +A sharp answer rose to Mrs. Allen's lips, but she held it back. + +"Only a boy! In a fair way to learn a useful lesson, too. Let me keep my +temper! If I scold, I spoil the whole." + +They entered the office, and left with the editor this advertisement:-- + +"Lost.--Between Prospect Park and Fulton Ferry, a porte-monnaie, marked +'Horace S. Clifford,' containing thirty-five dollars. The finder will be +suitably rewarded by leaving the same at No. ----, Cor. Fifth Ave. and +---- Street." + +"It is no matter about advertising Prudy's purse, it was so shabby," +said Aunt Madge; and on their way back to the ferry-house she bought her +another. + +"O, thank you, auntie, darling," said Prudy; "and thank you, too, +Horace, for losing my old one; it wasn't fit to be seen. And here is a +whole dollar inside! O, Aunt Madge, _are_ you an angel?" + +"Prue, you deserve your good luck; you don't come down on a fellow, +hammer and tongs, because he happens to meet with an accident." + +"Horace," said Dotty, meekly, "are you willing to carry my gloves?" + +"Yes, to be sure; but you don't want to go home bare-handed--do you?" + +"Why, I was thinking how nice 'twould be, Horace, to have you take 'em, +and lose 'em, and me have a new pair. There's a hole in the thumb." + +This little sally amused everybody, and Horace had the grace not to be +sensitive, though the laugh was against him. + +"Another queer day," said he, when they were at last at home again. "I +don't know what will become of us all, if we keep on like this." + +The poor boy was trying his best to brave it out; but Aunt Madge could +see that his heart was sore. + +"Lost every cent I'm worth," mused he, turning his coat-pocket inside +out, and scowling at it. "Got to be a beggar as long as I stay in New +York!" + +The whole party were tired, and Horace's gloom seemed to fill the parlor +like a fog, and make even the gas look dim. + +"I feel dreffly," said Fly, curling her head under her brother's arm, +like a chicken under its mother's wing--a way she had when she was +troubled. "I feel just zif I didn't love nobody in the world, and there +didn't nobody love me." + +This brought Horace around in a minute, and called forth a pickaback +ride. + +"Music! let us have music," said Aunt Madge, flying to the piano. "When +little folks grow so cold-hearted, in my house, that they don't love +anybody, it's time to warm their hearts with some happy little songs. +Come, girls!" + +She played a few simple tunes, and the children all sang till the fog +of gloom had disappeared, and the gas burned brightly once more. + +Half an hour afterwards, just as Fly was told she ought to be sleepy, +because her bye-low hymn had been sung,--"Sleep, little one, like a lamb +in the fold,"--and she had answered that she "couldn't be sleepy, athout +auntie would hurry quick to come in with a drink of water," there was a +strange arrival. Nathaniel, the waiting man, ushered into the parlor a +droll little old woman, dressed in a short calico gown, with gay figures +over it as large as cabbages; calf-skin shoes; and a green pumpkin hood, +with a bow on top. + +"Good evening, ma'am," said Horace, rising, and offering her a chair. +She did not seem to see very well, in spite of her enormous spectacles; +for she took no notice of the chair, and remained standing in the +middle of the floor. + +[Illustration: THE PUMPKIN HOOD.] + +"She stares at me so hard!" thought Horace--"that's the reason she can't +see anything else."--"Please take a chair, ma'am." + +"Can't stop to sit down. Is your name Horace S. Clifford?" said the old +woman, in a very feeble voice. + +Horace looked at her; she had not a tooth in her head. + +"Yes, ma'am; my name is Horace Clifford," said he, respectfully. He had +great reverence for age, and could keep his mouth from twitching; but +I'm sorry to say Prudy's danced up at the corners, and Dotty's opened +and showed her back teeth The woman must have had all those clothes made +when she was young, for nobody wore such things now; but it wasn't +likely she knew that, poor soul! + +"Did you go to the 'Brooklyn Eagle' office, to-day, to ad-_ver_-tise +some lost money, little boy?" + +"Yes, ma'am.--Why, that advertisement can't have been printed _so_ +quick!" + +"No, I calculate not. Did you go in with a lady, and a leetle, oneasy, +springy kind of a leetle girl?" + +"Why, that's me," put in Fly. + +"Yes, ma'am--yes; were you there? What do you know about it?" + +"Don't be in a hurry, little boy. I want to be safe and sure. I expect +you took notice of a young man in a bottle-green coat,--no, a +greenish-black coat,--a-sittin' down by the door." + +"O, I don't know. Yes, I think I did. Was he the one? Did he find the +money?" + +"Did you walk up Orange Street?" continued the old woman. "No, I mean +Cranberry Street?" + +"O, _dear_, I don't know! Prudy, run, call Aunt Madge. Please tell me, +ma'am, have you got it with you? Is my name on the inside?" + +"Wait till the little girl calls your aunt. Perhaps she'd be willing to +let me tell the story in my own way. I'd ruther deal with grown folks," +said the provoking old lady. + +Horace's eyes flashed, but he contrived to keep his temper. + +"It is my purse, ma'am, and my aunt knows nothing about it. I can tell +you just how it looks, and all there is in it." + +"Perhaps you are one of the kind that can tell folks a good deal, and +thinks nobody knows things so well as yourself," returned the +disagreeable old woman, smiling and showing her toothless gums. "From +what I can learn, I should judge you talked ruther too loud about your +money; for there was a pusson heerd you in the ferry-boat, and took +pains to go in the same car afterwards, and pick your pocket." + +"Pick--my--pocket?" + +"Yes, your pocket. You wise, wonderful young man!" + +"How? When? Where?" + +"This is how," said the old woman, quick as a thought putting out her +hand, and thrusting it into Horace's breast pocket. + +"O, it's auntie's rings--it's auntie's rings," cried Fly, jumping up, +and seizing the pretended old woman by her calico sleeve. + +"Why, Aunt Madge, that isn't you!" + +"But how'd you take out yer teeth?" said Fly; "your teeth? your teeth?" + +"O, I didn't take them out, Miss Bright-eyes. I only put a little spruce +gum over them." + +"Horace, I can't find auntie anywhere in this house," said Prudy, +appearing at the parlor door. "Do you suppose she's gone off and hid?" + +"Yes, she's hid inside that old gown." + +"What do you mean?" + +"That's auntie, and her teeth's _in_," explained Fly. + +"Only I wish she was an old woman, and had really brought me my money," +said Horace, in a disappointed tone. "I declare, there was one time I +thought the old nuisance was coming round to it, and going to give me +the wallet." + +"What a wise, wonderful youth!" said the aged dame, in a cracked voice. +"Thinks I can give him his wallet, when he's got it himself, right close +to his heart." + +Horace put his hand in his breast pocket. + +Wonder of wonders! There was the wallet! And not only his, but Prudy's! +Had he been asleep all day? Or was he asleep now? + +"Money safe? Not a cent gone. Hoo-rah! Hoo-ra-ah!" + +And for want of a cap to throw, he threw up Fly. + +"Where did it come from? Where did the old woman find it? O, no; the man +in the green-bottle coat?--O, no; there wasn't any old woman," cried the +children, hopelessly confused. "But who found the money? Did I drop it +on Cranberry Street?" "Did he drop it on Quamby Street?" "Who brought +it?" "Who bringed it?" + +Aunt Madge stuffed her fingers into her ears. "They are all talking at +once; they're enough to craze a body! They forget how old I am! Came all +the way from the Eagle office, afoot and alone, with only four children +to--" + +"O, auntie, don't play any more! Talk sober! Talk honest! Did Horace +have his pockets picked?" + +"Yes, he did," replied Aunt Madge, speaking in her natural tones, and +throwing off the pumpkin hood; "if you want the truth, he did." + +"Why Aunt Madge Allen! It does not seem possible! Who picked my +pockets?" + +"Some one who heard you talking so loud about your money." + +"But how could it be taken out, and I not know it?" + +"Quite as easily as it could be put back, and you not know it." + +"That's true, Horace Clifford! Auntie put it back, and you never knew +it." + +"So she did," said Horace, looking as bewildered as if he had been +whirling around with his eyes shut; "so she did--didn't she? But that +was because I was taken by surprise, seeing her without a tooth in her +head, you know." + +"You have been taken by surprise twice to-day, then," said Aunt Madge, +demurely. "It is really refreshing, Horace, to find that such a sharp +young man _can_ be caught napping!" + +"Well, I--I--I must have been thinking, of something else, auntie." + +"So I conclude. And you must be thinking of something else still, or +you'd ask me--" + +"O, yes, auntie; how did the thief happen to give it up? There, there, +you needn't say a word! I see it all in your eyes! You took the money +yourself. O, Aunt Madge!" + +"Well, if that wasn't queer doings!" cried Dotty. + +"Yes, it is quite contrary to my usual habits. I never robbed anybody +before. I hadn't the faintest idea I could do it without Horace's +knowledge." + +"Why, auntie, I never was so astonished in my life!" said the youth, +looking greatly confused. + +"I never heard of a person's being robbed that wasn't astonished," said +Aunt Madge, with a mischievous smile. "Will you be quite as sure of +yourself another time, think?" + +"No, auntie, I shan't; that's a fact." + +"That's my good, frank boy," said Aunt Madge, kissing his forehead. "And +he won't toss his head,--just this way,--like a young lord of creation, +when meddlesome aunties venture to give him advice." + +Horace kissed Mrs. Allen's cheek rather thoughtfully, by way of reply. + +"I don't see, Aunt Madge," said Prudy, "why you went back across the +river to put that piece in the paper, when you were the one that had the +money all the time." + +"I did it to pacify Horace. He _knew_ his pockets hadn't been pieked. +Besides I felt guilty. It was rather cruel in me--wasn't it?--to let him +suffer so long." + +"Not cruel a bit; good enough for me," cried Horace, with a generous +outburst. "You're just the jolliest woman, auntie--the jolliest woman! +There you are; you look so little and sweet! But if folks think they're +going to get ahead of you, why, just let 'em try it, say I!" + + +DEAR READERS: Horace was scarcely more astonished, when his pocket was +picked, than I am this minute, to find myself at the end of my book! I +had very much more to tell; but now it must wait till another time. + +Meanwhile the Parlins and Cliffords are "climbing the dream tree." Let +us hope they are destined to meet with no more misfortunes during the +rest of their stay in New York. + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Little Folks Astray +by Sophia May (Rebecca Sophia Clarke) + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 11257 *** diff --git a/11257-h.zip b/11257-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c9cf2e1 --- /dev/null +++ b/11257-h.zip diff --git a/11257-h/11257-h.htm b/11257-h/11257-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..486afdd --- /dev/null +++ b/11257-h/11257-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,4967 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<html> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" + content="text/html; charset=us-ascii"> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of + Little Folks Astray, + by Sophie May. +</title> +<style type="text/css"> + <!-- + * { font-family: Times;} + P { margin-top: .75em; + font-size: 12pt; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; } + HR { width: 33%; } + PRE { font-family: Courier, monospaced; } + BODY { margin-left: 4%; margin-right: 4%; } + .figure + {margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 5%; + text-align: center; } + .figure img + {border: none;} + // --> +</style> +</head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Little Folks Astray +by Sophia May (Rebecca Sophia Clarke) + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Little Folks Astray + +Author: Sophia May (Rebecca Sophia Clarke) + +Release Date: February 24, 2004 [EBook #11257] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: US-ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LITTLE FOLKS ASTRAY *** + + + + +Produced by Steven desJardins and Distributed Proofreading + + + + + +</pre> + +<p> </p> +<h1>LITTLE FOLKS ASTRAY.</h1> +<h2>BY SOPHIE MAY </h2> +<p> </p> +<center> +"To give room for wandering is it<br /> +That the world was made so wide." +</center> +<p> </p> +<center> +1872 +</center> +<p> </p> +<center> +TO<br /> +<i>MY YOUNG FRIEND</i>,<br /> +EMMA ADAMS.<br /> +"JOHNNIE OPTIC." +</center> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<a name="RULE4_1"><!-- RULE4 1 --></a> +<p> </p> +<h2> + TO PARENTS. +</h2> + +<p> +Here come the Parlins and Cliffords again. They had been sent to bed and +nicely tucked in, but would not stay asleep. They "wanted to see the +company down stairs;" so they have dressed themselves, and come back to +the parlor. I trust you will pardon them, dear friends. Is it not a +common thing, in this degenerate age, for grown people to frown and +shake their heads, while little people do exactly as they please? +</p> +<p> +Well, one thing is certain: if these children insist upon sitting up, +they shall listen to lectures on self-will and disrespect to superiors, +which will make their ears tingle. +</p> +<p> +Moreover, they shall hear of other people, and not always of themselves. +Fly Clifford, who expects to be in the middle, will be somewhat +overwhelmed, like a fly in a cup of milk; for Grandma Read is to talk +her down with her Quaker speech, and Aunt Madge with her story of the +summer when she was a child. It is but fair that the elders should have +a voice. That they may speak words which shall come home to many little +hearts, and move them for good, is the earnest wish of +</p> +<center> +THE AUTHOR. +</center> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<hr> +<p> </p> +<a name="TOC"><!-- TOC --></a> +<h2> + CONTENTS. +</h2> +<p> </p> +<p> +<a href="#CH1">CHAPTER I.</a> — THE LETTER +</p> +<p> +<a href="#CH2">CHAPTER II.</a> — THE UNDERTAKING +</p> +<p> +<a href="#CH3">CHAPTER III.</a> — THE FROLIC +</p> +<p> +<a href="#CH4">CHAPTER IV.</a> — "TAKING OUR AIRS" +</p> +<p> +<a href="#CH5">CHAPTER V.</a> — DOTTY HAVING HER OWN WAY +</p> +<p> +<a href="#CH6">CHAPTER VI.</a> — DOTTY REBUKED +</p> +<p> +<a href="#CH7">CHAPTER VII.</a> — THE LOST FLY +</p> +<p> +<a href="#CH8">CHAPTER VIII.</a> — "THE FRECKLED DOG" +</p> +<p> +<a href="#CH9">CHAPTER IX.</a> — MARIA'S MOTHER +</p> +<p> +<a href="#CH10">CHAPTER X.</a> — FIVE MAKING A CALL +</p> +<p> +<a href="#CH11">CHAPTER XI.</a> — "THE HEN-HOUSES" +</p> +<p> +<a href="#CH12">CHAPTER XII.</a> — "GRANNY" +</p> +<p> +<a href="#CH13">CHAPTER XIII.</a> — THE PUMPKIN HOOD +</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<h2>Illustrations</h2> +<p> </p> +<p>1. <a href="#image-1"> +'I Camed Down when I Was a Baby.' +</a></p> +<p>2. <a href="#image-2"> +The Pumpkin Hood. +</a></p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<a name="RULE4_2"><!-- RULE4 2 --></a> +<h2> + LITTLE FOLKS ASTRAY. +</h2> + + + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="CH1"><!-- CH1 --></a> +<h2> + CHAPTER I. +</h2> + +<h3> +THE LETTER. +</h3><p> </p> +<p> +Katie Clifford sat on the floor, in the sun, feeding her white mice. She +had a tea-spoon and a cup of bread and milk in her hands. If she had +been their own mother she could not have smiled down on the little +creatures more sweetly. +</p> +<p> +"'Cause I spect they's hungry, and that's why I'm goin' to give 'em +sumpin' to eat. Shut your moufs and open your eyes," said she, waving +the tea-spoon, and spattering the bread and milk over their backs. +</p> +<p> +"Quee, quee," squeaked the little mice, very well pleased when a drop +happened to go into their mouths. +</p> +<p> +"What are you doing there, Miss Topknot," said Horace: "O, I see; +catching rats." +</p> +<p> +Flyaway frowned fearfully, and the tuft of hair atop of her head danced +like a war-plume. +</p> +<p> +"I shouldn't think folks would call 'em names, Hollis, when they never +did a thing to you. Nothing but clean white mouses!" +</p> +<p> +"Let's see; now I look at 'em, Topknot, they <i>are</i> white. And what's all +this paper?" +</p> +<p> +"Bed-kilts." +</p> +<p> +"<i>In</i>-deed?" +</p> +<p> +"You knew it by-fore!" +</p> +<p> +"One, two, three; I thought the doctor gave you five. Where are they +gone?" +</p> +<p> +"Well, there hasn't but two died; the rest'll live," said Fly, swinging +one of them around by its tail, as if it had been a tame cherry. +</p> +<p> +Just then Grace came and stood in the parlor doorway. +</p> +<p> +"O, fie!" said she; "what work! Ma doesn't allow that cage in the +parlor. You just carry it out, Fly Clifford." +</p> +<p> +Miss Thistledown Flyaway looked up at her sister shyly, out of the +corners of her eyes. Grace was now a beautiful young lady of sixteen, +and almost as tall as her mother. Flyaway adored her, but there was a +growing doubt in her mind whether sister Grace had a right to use the +tone of command. +</p> +<p> +"'Cause I spect she isn't my mamma." +</p> +<p> +"Why, Fly, you haven't started yet!" +</p> +<p> +"I didn't think 'twas best," responded the child, sulkily, fixing her +eyes on the mice, who were dancing whirligigs round the wheel. +</p> +<p> +"Come here to your best friend, little Topknot," said Horace. "Let's +take that cage into the green-house, and ask papa to keep it there, +because the mice look like water-lilies on long stems." +</p> +<p> +Flyaway brightened at once. She knew water-lilies were lovely. Giving +Grace a triumphant glance, she danced across the room, and put the cage +in Horace's hands, with a smile of trusting love that thrilled his +heart. +</p> +<p> +"Hollis laughs at my mouses, but he don't say, 'Put 'em away,' and, +'<i>Put</i> 'em away;' he says, 'Little gee-urls wants to see things as much +as anybody else,'" thought she, gratefully. +</p> +<p> +"Horace," said Grace, with a curling lip, "that child is growing up +just like you—fond of worms, and bugs, and all such disgusting things." +</p> +<p> +Horace smiled. No matter for the scorn in Grace's tone; it pleased him +to be compared in any way with his precious little Flyaway. +</p> +<p> +"Topknot has a spark of sense," said he, leading her along to the +green-house. "I'll bring her up not to scream at a spider." +</p> +<p> +"Now, young lady," said he, setting the cage on the shelf beside a +camellia, and speaking in a low voice, though they were quite alone, +"<i>can</i> you keep a secret?" +</p> +<p> +"Course I can; What <i>is</i> a <i>secrid</i>?" +</p> +<p> +"Why, it's something you musn't ever tell, Topknot, not to anybody that +lives." +</p> +<p> +"Then I won't, <i>cerdily</i>,—not to mamma, nor papa, nor Gracie." +</p> +<p> +"Nor anybody else?" +</p> +<p> +"No; course not. <i>Whobody</i> else could I? O, 'cept Phibby. There, now, +what's the name of it." +</p> +<p> +"The name of it is—a secret, and the secret is this—Sure you won't +tell any single body, Topknot?" +</p> +<p> +"No; I said, <i>whobody</i> could I tell? O, 'cept Tinka! There now!" +</p> +<p> +"Well, the secret is this," said Horace, laying his forefingers +together, and speaking very slowly, in order to prolong the immense +delight he felt in watching the little one's eager face. "You know +you've got an aunt Madge?" +</p> +<p> +"Yes; so've you, too." +</p> +<p> +"And she lives in the city of New York." +</p> +<p> +"Does she? When'd she go?" +</p> +<p> +"Why, she has always lived there; ever since she was married." +</p> +<p> +"O, yes; and uncle Gustus was married, too; they was both married. Is +that all?" +</p> +<p> +"And she thinks you and I are 'cute chicks, and wants us to go and see +her." +</p> +<p> +"Well, course she does; I knew that before," said Fly, turning away with +indifference; "I did go with mamma." +</p> +<p> +"O, but she means now, Topknot; this very Christmas. She said it in a +letter." +</p> +<p> +"Does she truly?" said Fly, beginning to look pleased. "But it can't be +a <i>secrid</i>, though," added she, next moment, sadly, "'cause we can't go, +Hollis." +</p> +<p> +"But I really think we shall go, Topknot; that is, if you don't spoil +the whole by telling." +</p> +<p> +"O, I cerdily won't tell!" said Fly, fluttering all over with a sense of +importance, like a kitten with its first mouse. +</p> +<p> +The breakfast bell rang; and, with many a word of warning, Horace led +his little sister into the dining-room. +</p> +<p> +"Papa," said she, the moment she was established in her high chair, "I +know sumpin'." +</p> +<p> +"O, Topknot!" cried Horace. +</p> +<p> +"I know Hollis has got his elbows on the table. There, now, <i>did</i> I +tell?" +</p> +<p> +"Hu—sh, Topknot!" +</p> +<p> +There was a quiet moment while Mr. Clifford said grace. +</p> +<p> +"Hollis," whispered Katie immediately afterwards, "will I take my +mouses?" +</p> +<p> +"'Sh, Topknot!" +</p> +<p> +"What's going on there between you and Horace?" laughed Grace. +</p> +<p> +"A <i>secrid</i>," said Fly, nipping her little lips together. "You won't get +me to tell." +</p> +<p> +"Horace," exclaimed Mrs. Clifford, "you haven't—" +</p> +<p> +"Why, mother, I thought it was all settled, and wouldn't do any harm; +and it pleases her so!" +</p> +<p> +"Well, my son, you've made a hard day's work for me," said Mrs. +Clifford, smiling behind her coffee-cup, as eager little Katie swayed +back and forth in her high chair. +</p> +<p> +"You won't get me to tell, Gracie Clifford. She don't want nobody but +Hollis and me; she thinks we're very 'cute." +</p> +<p> +"Who? O, Aunt Louise, probably." +</p> +<p> +"No, aunt Louise never! It's the auntie that lives to New York." +</p> +<p> +"Sh, Topknot!" +</p> +<p> +"Well, I didn't tell, Hollis Clifford!" +</p> +<p> +"So you didn't," said Grace. "But wouldn't it be nice if somebody should +ask you to go somewhere to spend Christmas?" +</p> +<p> +"Well, <i>there is</i>!" +</p> +<p> +"O, Topknot," cried Horace, in mock distress, "you said you could keep +a secret." +</p> +<p> +Flyaway looked frightened. +</p> +<p> +"What'd I do?" cried she; "I didn't tell nuffin 'bout the letter!" +</p> +<p> +This last speech set everybody to laughing; and the little tell-tale +looked around from one to another with a face full of innocent wonder. +They couldn't be laughing at <i>her</i>! +</p> +<p> +"I can keep secrids," said she, with dignity. "It was what I was +a-doin'." +</p> +<p> +"It is your brother Horace who cannot be trusted to keep secrets," said +Mrs. Clifford, taking a letter from her pocket. "Hear, now, what your +Aunt Madge has written: 'Will you lend me your children for the +holidays, Maria? I want all three; at any rate, two.'" +</p> +<p> +"That's me," cried Flyaway, tipping over her white coffee; "'<i>tenny +rate two</i>,' means me." +</p> +<p> +"Don't interrupt me, dear. 'Brother Edward has promised me Prudy and +Dotty Dimple. They may have a Santa Claus, or whatever they like. I +shall devote myself to making them happy, and I am sure there are plenty +of things in New York to amuse them. Horace must come without fail; for +the little girl-cousins always depend so much upon him.'" +</p> +<p> +A smile rose to Horace's mouth; but he rubbed it off with his napkin. It +was his boast that he was above being flattered. +</p> +<p> +"But why not have Grace go, too, to keep them steady?" said Mr. +Clifford, bluntly. +</p> +<p> +Horace applied himself to his buckwheat cakes in silence, and looked +rather gloomy. +</p> +<p> +"Why, I suppose, Henry, it would hardly be safe to send Grace, on +account of her cough." +</p> +<p> +"I'm so sorry you asked Dr. De Bruler a word about it, mamma; but I +suppose I must submit," said Grace, with a face as cloudy as Horace's. +</p> +<p> +"Horace, my son, do you really feel equal to the task of taking this +tuft of feathers to New York?" +</p> +<p> +"I don't know why not, father; I'm willing to try." +</p> +<p> +"Horace has good courage," said Grace, shaking her auburn curls like so +many exclamation points. "I never could! I never would! I'd as soon have +the care of a flying squirrel!" +</p> +<p> +"Hollis never called me a <i>squirl</i>," said Fly, demurely. "I've got two +brothers, and one of 'em is an angel, and the other isn't; but Hollis +is <i>'most</i> as good as the one up in the sky." +</p> +<p> +"Well, my son," remarked Mr. Clifford, after a pause, "if your mother +gives her consent, I suppose I shall give mine; but it does not look +clear to me yet. One thing is certain, Horace; if you do undertake this +journey, you must live on the watch: you must sleep with both eyes open. +Don't trust the child out of your sight—not for a moment. Don't even +let go her hand on the street." +</p> +<p> +"I do believe Horace will be as careful as either you or I, Henry, or I +certainly wouldn't trust him with our last little darling," said Mrs. +Clifford. +</p> +<p> +His mother's words dropped like balm upon Horace's wounded spirit. He +looked up, and felt himself a man again. +</p> + + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="CH2"><!-- CH2 --></a> +<h2> + CHAPTER II. +</h2> + +<h3> +THE UNDERTAKING. +</h3><p> </p> +<p> +When Flyaway knew she was going to New York, it was about as easy to fit +her dresses as to clothe a buzzing blue-bottle fly. With spinning head +and dancing feet, she was set down, at last, in the cars. +</p> +<p> +"Here we are, all by ourselves, darling, starting off for Gotham. Wave +your handkerchief to mamma. Don't you see her kissing her hand? There, +you needn't spring out of the window! And I declare, Brown-brimmer, if +you haven't thrown away your handkerchief! Here, cry into mine!" +</p> +<p> +"I didn't want to cry, Hollis; I wanted to laugh," said the child, +wiping her eyes with her doll's cloak. "When you ride in carriages, you +don't get anywhere; but when you ride in the cars, you get there right +off." +</p> +<p> +"Yes; that's so, my dear. You are in the right of it, as you always are. +Now I am going to turn the seat over, and sit where I can look at +you—just so." +</p> +<p> +"O, that's just as splendid, Hollis! Now there's only me and Flipperty. +There, I put her 'pellent cloak on wrong; but see, now, I've +un-<i>wrong-side-outed</i> it! Don't she sit up like a lady?" +</p> +<p> +Her name was Flipperty Flop. She was a large jointed doll (not a doll +with large joints,) had seen a great deal of the world, and didn't think +much of it. She came of a high family, and had such blue blood in her +veins, that the ground wasn't good enough for her to walk on. She wore +a "'pellent cloak" and rubber boots, and had a shopping-bag on her arm +full of "choclid" cakes. She was nearly as large as her mother, and all +of two years older. A great deal had happened to her before her mother +was born, and a great deal more since. Sometimes it was dropsy, and she +had to be tapped, when pints of sawdust would run out. Sometimes it was +consumption, and she wasted to such a skeleton that she had to be +revived with cotton. She had lost her head more than once, but it never +affected her brains: she was all the better with a young head now and +then on her old shoulders. Her present ailment appeared to be small-pox; +she was badly pitted with pins and a penknife. "I declare I forgot to +get a ticket for her," said Horace. "What if the conductor shouldn't +let her pass?" +</p> +<p> +"O, Hollis, but he must?" cried Fly, springing to her feet; "<i>I</i> shan't +pass athout my Flipperty! Tell the 'ductor 'bout my white mouses died, +and I can't go athout sumpin to carry." +</p> +<p> +"Pshaw! Dotty Dimple don't carry dolls. She don't like 'em: sensible +girls never do." +</p> +<p> +"Well, <i>I</i> like 'em," said Flyaway, nothing daunted. "You knew it +byfore; 'n if you didn't want Flipperty, you'd ought to not come!" +</p> +<p> +Horace laughed, as he always did when his little sister tried her power +over him. The conductor was an old acquaintance, and he told him how it +stood with Flipperty, how she was needed at New York, and all that; +whereupon Mr. Van Dusen gave Fly a little green card, and told her to +keep it to show to all the conductors on the road; for it was a free +pass, and would take Flipperty all over the United States. +</p> +<p> +"Yes, sir, if you please," said Fly, with a blush and a smile, and put +the "free pass" in Miss Flop's cloak pocket. +</p> +<p> +After this, she never once failed to show it, whenever Mr. Van Dusen, or +any other conductor, came near, but always had to hunt for it, and once +brought up a cookie instead, which fearful mistake mortified her to the +depths of her soul. +</p> +<p> +Horace was sure all eyes were fixed on his charming little charge, and +was proud of the honor of showing her off; but he paid for it dearly; it +cost him more than his Latin, with all the irregular verbs. There was no +such thing as her being comfortable. She was full of care about him, +herself, and the baggage. Flipperty lost off a rubber boot, which +bounced over into the next seat. Horace had to ask a gentleman and his +sick daughter to move, and, after all, it was in an old lady's lap. +</p> +<p> +Then Fly's feet were cold, and Horace took her to the stove; but that +made her eyes too hot, and she danced back, to lie with her head on his +breast and her feet against the window, till she suddenly whirled +straight about, and planted her tiny boots under his chin. +</p> +<p> +"O, Topknot, Topknot, I pity that woman with the baby, if she feels as +lame all over as I do!" +</p> +<p> +"Where's the baby, Hollis? O, I see." +</p> +<p> +"What's the matter, now? Why upon earth can't you sit still, child?" +said Horace, next minute, catching her as she was darting into the +aisle, dragging Miss Flop by the hair of the head. +</p> +<p> +"O, Hollis, don't you see there's a dolly over there, with two girls and +a lady with red clo'es on? 'Haps they'd be willing for her to get +'quainted with Flipperty?" +</p> +<p> +"Well, Topknot, 'haps they would, but 'haps I wouldn't. I can't have you +dancing all over the car, in this style." +</p> +<p> +Flyaways's lip quivered, and a tear started. Horace was moved. One of +Fly's tears weighed a pound with him, even when it only wet her +eyelashes, and wasn't heavy enough to drop. +</p> +<p> +"Well, there, darling, you just sit still,—not still enough, though, to +give you a pain (Fly always said it gave her a pain to sit still),—and +I'll bring the girls and dollie over here to you. Will that do?" +</p> +<p> +Fly thought it would. +</p> +<p> +A dreadful fit of bashfulness came over Horace, when he stood face to +face with the black-eyed lady and her daughters, and tried to speak. +</p> +<p> +"I've got a little girl travelling with me, ma'am; she's so—so uneasy, +that I don't know what to do with her. Will you let me take—I mean, are +you willing—" +</p> +<p> +"Bring her over here, and we will try to amuse her," said the black-eyed +lady, pleasantly; but Horace was sure he saw the oldest girl laughing at +him. +</p> +<p> +"It's no fun to go and make a fool of yourself," thought he, leading Fly +to the new acquaintances, and standing by as she settled herself shyly +in the seat. +</p> +<p> +"How do you do, little one? What is your name?—<i>Flyaway</i>?—Well, you +look like it. We saw you were a darling, clear across the aisle. And you +have a kind brother, I know." +</p> +<p> +At these words Fly, for want of some answer to make, sprang forward and +kissed Horace on the bridge of the nose. +</p> +<p> +"There, you've knocked off my cap." +</p> +<p> +In stooping to pick it up, he awkwardly hit his head against the older +girl, who already looked so mischievous that he was rather afraid of +her. +</p> +<p> +"Wish I could get out of the way. She expects me to speak, but I shan't. +</p> +<pre> + "'Needles and pins, needles and pins, + When a man travels his trouble begins.'" +</pre> +<p> +Horace was obliged to stand, very ill at ease, till the black-eyed lady +had found out where he lived, who his father was, and what was his +mother's name before she was married. +</p> +<p> +"Tell your father, when you go home, you have seen Mrs. Bonnycastle, +formerly Ann Jones, and give him my regards. I knew he married a lady +from Maine." +</p> +<p> +"I know sumpin," struck in Fly; "if ever <i>I</i> marry anybody, I'll marry +my own brother Hollis. I mean if I don't be a ole maid!" +</p> +<p> +"And what is 'a ole maid,' you little witch?" +</p> +<p> +"I don' know; some folks is," was the wise reply. Flyaway was about to +add "Gampa Clifford," but did not feel well enough acquainted to talk of +family matters. +</p> +<p> +When the Bonnycastles left, at Cleveland, Horace thought that was the +last of them. Miss Gerty was "decent-looking, looked some like Cassy +Hallock; but he couldn't bear to see folks giggle; hoped he never should +set eyes on those people again." Whether he ever did, you shall hear one +of these days. +</p> +<p> +"O, Topknot," said he, "your hair looks like a mop. Do you want all +creation laughing at you? You'll mortify me to death." +</p> +<p> +"You ought to water it. If you don't take better care o' your little +sister, I won't never ride with you no more, Hollis Clifford!" +</p> +<p> +"Well, see that you don't, you little scarecrow," said the suffering +boy, out of all patience. "If you are going to act in New York as you +have on the road, I wish I was well out of this scrape." +</p> +<p> +Flyaway was really a sight to behold. How she managed to tear her dress +off the waist, and loose five boot buttons, and last, but not least, the +very hat she wore on her head, <i>would</i> have been a mystery if you hadn't +seen her run. +</p> +<p> +When they reached the city, Horace put the soft, flying locks in as +good order as he could, and tied them up in his handkerchief. +</p> +<p> +"I wisht I hadn't come," whined Fly; "I don't want to wear a hangerfiss; +'tisn't speckerble!" +</p> +<p> +"Hush right up! I'm not going to have you get cold!—My sorrows! Shan't +I be thankful when I get where there's a woman to take care of her?" +</p> +<p> +On the platform at the depot, aunt Madge, Prudy, and Dotty Dimple, were +waiting for them. A hearty laugh went the rounds, which Fly thought was +decidedly silly. Aunt Madge took the young travellers right into her +arms, and hugged them in her own cordial style, as if her heart had been +hungry for them for many a day. +</p> +<p> +"We're so glad!—for it did seem as if you'd never come," exclaimed +Dotty Dimple. +</p> +<p> +"And I'd like to know," said Horace, "how you happened to get here +first." +</p> +<p> +"O, we came by express—came yesterday." +</p> +<p> +"By 'spress?" cried Flyaway, pulling away from aunt Madge, who was +trying to pin her frock together; "<i>we</i> came by a 'ductor.—Why, where's +Flipperty's ticket?" +</p> +<p> +Horace seized Prudy with one hand, and Dotty Dimple with the other, +turning them round and round. +</p> +<p> +"I don't see anything of the express mark, 'Handle with care.' What has +become of it?" +</p> +<p> +"O, we were done up in brown paper," said Prudy, laughing, "and the +express mark was on that; but aunt Madge took it off as soon as she got +the packages home." +</p> +<p> +"Why, what a story, Prudy Parlin! We didn't have a speck of brown paper +round us. Just cloaks and hats with feathers in!" +</p> +<p> +Dotty spoke with some irritation. She had all along been rather +sensitive about being sent by express, and could not bear any allusion +to the subject. +</p> +<p> +"There, that's Miss Dimple herself. Let me shake hands with your +Dimpleship! Didn't come to New York to take a joke,—did you?" +</p> +<p> +"No, her Dimpleship came to New York to get warm," said Peacemaker +Prudy; "and so did I, too. You don't know how cold it is in Maine." +</p> +<p> +By this time they were rattling over the stones in their aunt's elegant +carriage. It was dusk; the lamps were lighted, the streets crowded with +people, the shops blazing with gay colors. +</p> +<p> +"I didn't come here to get warm, either," said Dotty, determined to +have the last word: "I was warm enough in Portland. I s'pose we've got a +furnace,—haven't we?—and a coal grate, too." +</p> +<p> +"I do hope Horace hasnt't got her started in a contrary fit," thought +Prudy; "I brought her all the way from home without her saying a cross +word." +</p> +<p> +But aunt Madge had a witch's broom, to sweep cobwebs out of the sky. +Putting her arm around Dotty, she said,— +</p> +<p> +"You all came to bring sunshine into my house; bless your happy hearts." +</p> +<p> +That cleared Dotty's sky, and she put up her lips for a kiss; while +Flyaway, with her "hangerfiss" on, danced about the carriage like a fly +in a bottle, kissing everybody, and Horace twice over. +</p> +<p> +"'Cause I spect we've got there. But, Hollis," said she, with the +comical shade of care which so often flitted across her little face, +"you never put the trunk in here. Now that 'ductor has gone and carried +off my nightie." +</p> + + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="CH3"><!-- CH3 --></a> +<h2> + CHAPTER III. +</h2> + +<h3> +THE FROLIC. +</h3><p> </p> +<p> +If Aunt Madge had dressed in linsey woolsey, with a checked apron on, +she would still have been lovely. A white rose is lovely even in a +cracked tea-cup. But Colonel Augustus Allen was a rich man, and his wife +could afford to dress elegantly. Horace followed her to-night with +admiring eyes. +</p> +<p> +"They say she isn't as handsome as Aunt Louise, but I know better; you +needn't tell me! Her eyes have got the real good twinkle, and that's +enough said." +</p> +<p> +Horace was like most boys; he mistook loveliness for beauty. Mrs. +Allen's small figure, gentle gray eyes, and fair curls made her seem +almost insignificant beside the splendid Louise; but Horace knew better; +you needn't tell <i>him</i>! +</p> +<p> +"Horace," said Aunt Madge, "your Uncle Augustus is gone, and that is one +reason, you know, why I begged for company during the holidays. You will +be the only gentleman in the house, and we ladies herewith put ourselves +under your protection. Will you accept the charge?" +</p> +<p> +"He needn't <i>pertect</i> ME," spoke up Miss Dimple, from the depths of an +easy-chair; "I can pertect myself." +</p> +<p> +"Don't mind going to the Museum alone, I suppose, and crossing ferries, +and riding in the Park, and being out after dark?" +</p> +<p> +"No; I'm not afraid of things," replied the strong-minded young lady; +"ask Prudy if I am. And my father lets me go in the horse-cars all over +Portland. That's since I travelled out west." +</p> +<p> +Here the bell sounded, and the only gentleman of the house gave his arm +to Mrs. Allen, to lead her out to what he supposed was supper, though he +soon found it went by the name of dinner. Neither he nor his young +cousins were accustomed to seeing so much silver and so many servants; +but they tried to appear as unconcerned as if it were an every-day +affair. Dotty afterwards said to Prudy and Horace, "I was 'stonished +when that man came to the back of my chair with the butter; but I said, +'<i>If</i> you please, sir,' just as if I 'spected it. <i>He</i> don't know but my +father's rich." +</p> +<p> +After dinner Fly's eyes drew together, and Prudy said,— +</p> +<p> +"O, darling, you don't know what's going to happen. Auntie said you +might sleep with Dotty and me to-night, right in the middle." +</p> +<p> +"O, dear!" drawled Flyaway; "when there's two abed, I sleep; but when +there's three abed, I open out my eyes, and can't." +</p> +<p> +"So you don't like to sleep with your cousins," said Dotty, "your dear +cousins, that came all the way from Portland to see you." +</p> +<p> +"Yes, I do," said Fly, quickly; "my eyes'll open out; but that's no +matter, 'cause I don't want to go to sleep; I'd ravver not." +</p> +<p> +They went up stairs, into a beautiful room, which aunt Madge had +arranged for them with two beds, to suit a whim of Dotty's. +</p> +<p> +"Now isn't this just splendid?" said Miss Dimple; "the carpet so soft +your boots go in like feathers; and then such pictures! Look, Fly! here +are two little girls out in a snow-storm, with an umbrella over 'em. +Aren't you glad it isn't you? And here are some squirrels, just as +natural as if they were eating grandpa's oilnuts. And see that pretty +lady with the kid, or the dog. Any way she is kissing him; and it was +all she had left out of the whole family, and she wanted to kiss +somebody." +</p> +<p> +"Yes," said aunt Madge. +</p> +<pre> + "'Her sole companion in a dearth + Of love upon a hopeless earth.' +</pre> +<p> +"If that makes you look so sober, children, I'm going to take it down. +Here, on this bracket, is the head of our blessed Saviour." +</p> +<p> +"O, I'm glad," said Fly. "He'll be right there, a-looking on, when we +say our prayers." +</p> +<p> +"Hear that creature talk!" whispered Dotty. +</p> +<p> +"And these things a-shinin' down over the bed: who's these?" said +Flyaway, dancing about the room, with "opened-out" eyes. +</p> +<p> +"Don't you know? That's Christ blessing little children," said Dotty, +gently. "I always know Him by the rainbow round His head." +</p> +<p> +"Aureole," corrected Aunt Madge. +</p> +<p> +"But wasn't it just <i>like</i> a rainbow—red, blue and green?" +</p> +<p> +"O, no; our Saviour did not really have any such crown of light, Dotty. +He looked just like other men, only purer and holier. Artists have tried +in vain to make his expression heavenly enough; so they paint him with +an aureole." +</p> +<p> +Prudy said nothing; but as she looked at the picture, a happy feeling +came over her. She remembered how Christ "called little children like +lambs to his fold," and it seemed as if He was very near to-night, and +the room was full of peace. Aunt Madge had done well to place such +paintings before her young guests; good pictures bring good thoughts. +</p> +<p> +"All, everywhere, it's so spl-endid!" said Fly; "what's that thing with +a glass house over it!" +</p> +<p> +"A clock." +</p> +<p> +"What a funny clock! It looks like a little dog wagging its tail." +</p> +<p> +"That's the <i>penderlum</i>," explained Dotty; "it beats the time. Every +clock has a penderlum. Generally hangs down before though, and this +hangs behind. I declare, Prudy, it does look like a dog wagging its +tail." +</p> +<p> +"Hark! it strikes eight," said Aunt Madge. "Time little girls were in +bed, getting rested for a happy day to-morrow." +</p> +<p> +"I don't spect that thing knows what time it is," said Fly, gazing at +the clock doubtfully, "and my eyes are all opened out; but if you want +me to, auntie, I will!" +</p> +<p> +So Flyaway slipped off her clothes in a twinkling. +</p> +<p> +"We're going to lie, all three, in this big bed, Fly, just for one +night," said Dotty; "and after that we must take turns which shall sleep +with you. There, child, you're all undressed, and I haven't got my boots +off yet. You're quicker'n a chain o' lightning, and always was." +</p> +<p> +"Why, how did that kitty get in here?" said auntie, as a loud mewing +was heard. "I certainly shut her out before we came up stairs." +</p> +<p> +Dotty ran round the room, with one boot on, and Prudy in her stockings, +helping their aunt in the search. The kitten was not under the bed, or +in either of the closets, or inside the curtains. +</p> +<p> +"Look ahind the <i>pendlum</i>," said Fly, laughing and skipping about in +high glee; "look ahind the pendlum; look atween the pillow-case." +</p> +<p> +Still the mewing went on. +</p> +<p> +"O, here is the kitty—I've found her," said auntie, suddenly seizing +Fly by the shoulders, and stopping her mocking-bird mouth. "Poor pussy, +she has turned white—white all over!" +</p> +<p> +"You don't mean to say that was Fly Clifford?" cried Prudy. +</p> +<p> +"Shut her up, auntie," said Dotty Dimple; "she's a kitty. I always knew +her name was Kitty." +</p> +<p> +Fly ran and courtesied before the mirror in her nightie. +</p> +<p> +"O, Kitty Clifford, Kitty Clifford," she cried, "when'll you be a cat?" +</p> +<p> +"Pretty soon, if you can catch mice as well as you can mew," laughed +auntie; "but look you, my dear; are you going to bed to-night? or shall +I shut you down cellar?" +</p> +<p> +"Don't shut me down <i>cellow</i>, auntie," cried the mocking-bird, crowing +like a chicken; "shut me in the barn with the banties." +</p> +<p> +Next moment it occurred to the child that this style of behavior was not +very "speckerful;" so she hastily dropped on her knees before her +auntie, and began to say her prayers. The change was so sudden, from +the shrill crow of a chicken to the gentle voice of a little girl +praying, that no one could keep a sober face. Prudy ran into the closet, +and Dotty laughed into her handkerchief. +</p> +<p> +"There, now, that's done," said Flyaway, jumping up as suddenly as she +had knelt down. "Now I must pray Flipperty." +</p> +<p> +And before any one could think what the child meant to do, she had +dragged out her dolly, and knelt it on the rug, face downward, over her +own lap. +</p> +<p> +"O, the wicked creature!" whispered Dotty. But Aunt Madge said nothing. +</p> +<p> +"Pray," said the little one, in a tone of command. Then, in a fine, +squeaking voice, Fly repeated a prayer. It was intended to be +Flipperty's voice, and Flipperty was too young to talk plain. +</p> +<p> +"There, that will do," said Aunt Madge, her large gray eyes trying not +to twinkle; "did she ever say her prayers before?" +</p> +<p> +"Yes, um; she's a goody girl—when I 'member to pray her!" +</p> +<p> +"Well, dear, I wouldn't 'pray her' any more. It makes us laugh to see +such a droll sight, and nobody wishes to laugh when you are talking to +your Father in heaven." +</p> +<p> +"No'm," replied Flyaway, winking her eyes solemnly. +</p> +<p> +But when the "three abed" had been tucked in and kissed, Fly called her +auntie back to ask, "How can Flipperty grow up a goody girl <i>athout</i> she +says her prayers?" +</p> +<p> +There was such a mixture of play and earnestness in the child's eyes, +that auntie had to turn away her face before she could answer seriously. +</p> +<p> +"Why, little girls can think and feel you know; but with dollies it is +different. Now, good night, pet; you won't have beautiful dreams, if you +talk any more." +</p> + + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="CH4"><!-- CH4 --></a> +<h2> + CHAPTER IV. +</h2> + +<h3> +"TAKING OUR AIRS." +</h3><p> </p> +<p> +Flyaway awoke singing, and sprang up in bed, saying,— +</p> +<p> +"Why, I thought I's a car, and that's why I whissiled." +</p> +<p> +"But you are not a car," yawned Prudy; "please don't sing again, or +dance, either." +</p> +<p> +"It's the <i>happerness</i> in me, Prudy; and that's what dances; it's the +happerness." +</p> +<p> +"That's the worst part of Fly Clifford," groaned Dotty; "she won't keep +still in the morning. Might have known there wouldn't be any peace after +she got here." +</p> +<p> +Dotty always came out of sleep by slow stages, and her affections were +the last part of her to wake up. Just now she did not love Katie +Clifford one bit, nor her own mother either. +</p> +<p> +"Won't you light the lamp?" piped Flyaway. +</p> +<p> +"Please don't, Fly," said Prudy; "don't talk!" +</p> +<p> +"Won't you light the la-amp?" +</p> +<p> +"No, we will not," said Dotty, firmly. +</p> +<p> +"Won't you light the la-amp?" +</p> +<p> +"Is this what we came to New York for?" moaned Dotty; "to be waked up in +the middle of the night by folks singing?" +</p> +<p> +"Won't you light the la-amp?" +</p> +<p> +"I'll pack my dresses, and go right home! I'll—I'll have Fly Clifford +sleep out o' this room. Why, I—I—" +</p> +<p> +"Won't you light the la-amp?" +</p> +<p> +Prudy sprang out of bed, convulsed with laughter, and lighted the gas; +whereupon Fly began to dance "Little Zephyrs," on the pillow, and Dotty +to declare her eyes were put out. +</p> +<p> +"Little try-patiences, both of them," thought Prudy; "but then they've +always had their own way, and what can you expect? I'm so glad I wasn't +born the youngest of the family; it does make children <i>so</i> +disagreeable!" +</p> +<p> +As soon as Dotty was fairly awake, her love for her friends came back +again, and her good humor with it. She made Fly bleat like a lamb and +spin like a top, and applauded her loudly. +</p> +<p> +"It's gl-orious to have you here, Fly Clifford. I wouldn't let you go in +any other room to sleep for anything." +</p> +<p> +Which shows that the same thing looked very different to Dotty after she +got her eyes open. +</p> +<p> +When the children went down to breakfast, they found bouquets of +flowers by their plates. +</p> +<p> +"I am delighted to see such happy faces." said Aunt Madge. "How would +you all like to go out by and by, and take the air?" +</p> +<p> +"We'd like it, auntie; and I'll tell you what would be prime," remarked +Horace, from his uncle's place at the head of the table; "and that is, +to take Fly to Stewart's, and have her go up in an elevator." +</p> +<p> +"Why couldn't I go up, too?" asked Dotty, with the slightest possible +shade of discontent in her voice. She did not mean to be jealous, but +she had noticed that Flyaway always came first with Horace, and if there +was anything hard for Dotty's patience, it was playing the part of +Number Two. +</p> +<p> +"We'll all go up," said Aunt Madge. "I've an idea of taking you over +to Brooklyn; and in that case we shan't come home before night." +</p> +<p> +"Carry our dinner in a basket?" suggested Dotty. +</p> +<p> +"O, no; we'll go into a restaurant, somewhere, and order whatever you +like." +</p> +<p> +"Will you, auntie? Well, there, I never went to such a place in my life, +only once; and then Percy Eastman, he just cried 'Fire!' and I broke the +saucer all to pieces." +</p> +<p> +"I've been to it a great many times," said Fly, catching part of Dotty's +meaning; "my mamma bakes 'em in a freezer." +</p> +<p> +At nine o'clock the party of five started out to see New York. Aunt +Madge and Horace walked first, with Flyaway between them. "We are going +out to take our <i>airs</i>," said the little one. +</p> +<p> +"I don't think you need any more," said Horace, looking fondly at his +pretty sister. "You're so airy now, it's as much as we can do to keep +your feet on the ground." +</p> +<p> +Flyaway wore a blue silk bonnet, with white lace around the face, a blue +dress and cloak, and pretty furs with a squirrel's head on the muff. She +had never been dressed so well before, and she knew it. She remembered +hearing "Phibby" say to "Tinka," "Don't that child look like an angel?" +Fly was sure she did, for big folks like Tinka must know. But here her +thoughts grew misty. All the angels she had ever heard of were brother +Harry and "the Charlie boy." How could she look like them? +</p> +<p> +"Does God dress 'em in a cloak and bonnet, you s'pose?" asked she of her +own thoughts. +</p> +<p> +Prudy and Dotty Dimple wore frocks of black and red plaid, white +cloaks, and black hats with scarlet feathers. Horace was satisfied that +a finer group of children could not be found in the city. +</p> +<p> +"Aunt Madge and I have no reason to be ashamed of them, I am sure," +thought he, taking out his new watch every few minutes, not because he +wished to show it, but for fear it was losing time. +</p> +<p> +"How I wish we had Grace and Susey here! and then I should have all my +nieces," said Aunt Madge. "Is it possible these are the same children I +used to see at Willowbrook? Here is my only nephew, that drowned Prudy +on a log, grown tall enough to offer me his arm. (Why, Horace, your head +is higher than mine!) Here is Prudy, who tried yesterday—didn't +she?—to go up to heaven on a ladder, almost a young lady. Why, how old +it makes me feel!" +</p> +<p> +"But you don't look old," said Dotty, consolingly; "you don't look +married any more than Aunt Louise?" +</p> +<p> +Here they took an omnibus, and the children interested themselves in +watching the different people who sat near them. +</p> +<p> +"Aren't you glad to come?" said Dotty. "See that man getting out. What +is that little thing he's switching himself with?" +</p> +<p> +"That's a cane," replied Horace. +</p> +<p> +"A cane? Why, if Flyaway should lean on it, she'd break it in +two.—Prudy, look at that man in the corner; <i>his</i> cane is funnier than +the other one." +</p> +<p> +Horace laughed. +</p> +<p> +"That is a pipe, Dotty—a meerschaum." +</p> +<p> +"Well, I don't see much difference," said Miss Dimple; "New York is the +queerest place. Such long pipes, and such short canes!" +</p> +<p> +Fly was too happy to talk, and sat looking out of the window until an +elegantly-dressed lady entered the stage, who attracted everybody's +attention; and then Flyaway started up, and stood on her tiptoes. The +lady's face was painted so brightly that even a child could not help +noticing it. It was haggard and wrinkled, all but the cheeks, and those +bloomed out like a red, red rose. Flyaway had never seen such a sight +before, and thought if the lady only knew how she looked, she would go +right home and wash her face. +</p> +<p> +"What a chee-arming little girl!" said the painted woman, crowding in +between Aunt Madge and Flyaway, and patting the child's shoulder with +her ungloved hand, which was fairly ablaze with jewels; "bee-youtiful!" +</p> +<p> +Flyaway turned quickly around to Aunt Madge, and said, in one of her +very loud whispers, "What's the matter with her? She's got sumpin on her +face." +</p> +<p> +"Hush," whispered Aunt Madge, pinching the child's hand. +</p> +<p> +"But there is," spoke up Flyaway, very loud in her earnestness; "O, +there is sumpin on her face—sumpin red." +</p> +<p> +There was "sumpin" now on all the other faces in the omnibus, and it was +a smile. The lady must have blushed away down under the paint. She +looked at her jewelled fingers, tossed her head proudly, and very soon +left the stage. +</p> +<p> +"Topknot, how could you be so rude?" said Horace, severely; "little +girls should be seen, and not heard." +</p> +<p> +"But she speaked to me first," said Flyaway. "I wasn't goin' to say +nuffin, and then she speaked." +</p> +<p> +A young gentleman and lady opposite seemed very much amused. +</p> +<p> +"I'm afraid of your bright eyes, little dear. I'll give you some candy +if you won't tell me how I look," said the young lady, showering +sweetmeats into Flyaway's lap. +</p> +<p> +"Why, I wasn't goin' to tell her how she looked," whispered Fly, very +much surprised, and trying to nestle out of sight behind Horace's +shoulder. +</p> +<p> +When they left the omnibus, the children had a discussion about the +painted lady, and could not decide whether they were glad or sorry that +Fly had spoken out so plainly. +</p> +<p> +"Good enough for her," said Dotty. +</p> +<p> +"But it was such a pity to hurt her feelings!" said Prudy. +</p> +<p> +"Who hurted 'em?" asked Fly, looking rather sheepish. +</p> +<p> +"Poh! her feelings can't be worth much," remarked Horace; "a woman +that'll go and rig herself up in that style." +</p> +<p> +"She must be near-sighted," said Aunt Madge. "She certainly can't have +the faintest idea how thick that paint is. She ought to let somebody +else put it on." +</p> +<p> +"But, auntie, isn't it wicked to wear paint on your cheeks?" +</p> +<p> +"No, Dotty, only foolish. That woman was handsome once, but her beauty +is gone. She thinks she can make herself young again, and then people +will admire her." +</p> +<p> +"O, but they won't; they'll only laugh." +</p> +<p> +"Very true, Dotty; but I dare say she never thought of that till this +little child told her." +</p> +<p> +"Fly," said Horace, "You are doing a great deal of good going round +hurting folks' feelings." +</p> +<p> +"Poor woman!" said Aunt Madge, with a pitying smile; "she might comfort +herself by trying to make her soul beautiful." +</p> +<p> +"That would be altogether the best plan," said Horace, aside to Prudy; +"she can't do much with her body, that's a fact; it's too dried up." +</p> +<p> +All this while they were passing elegant shops, and Aunt Madge let the +children pause as long as they liked before the windows, to admire the +beautiful things. +</p> +<p> +"Whose little grampa is that?" cried Fly, pointing to a Santa Claus +standing on the pavement and holding out his hands with a very pleasant +smile; "he's all covered with a snow-storm." +</p> +<p> +"He isn't alive," said Dotty; "and the snow is only painted on his coat +in little dots." +</p> +<p> +"Well, I didn't spect he was alive, Dotty Dimple, only but he made +believe he was. And O, see that hossy! he's dead, too, but he looks as +if you could ride on him." +</p> +<p> +"This other window is the handsomest, Fly; don't I wish I had some of +those beautiful dripping, red ear-rings?" +</p> +<p> +"Why, little sister," said Prudy, "I'd as soon think of wanting a gold +nose as those cat-tail ear-rings. What would Grandma Read say?" +</p> +<p> +"Why, she'd say 'thee' and 'thou,' I s'pose, and ask me if I called 'em +the ornaments of meek and quiet spirits," said Dotty, with a slight curl +of the lip. "Auntie, is it wicked to wear jewels, if your grandma's a +Quaker?" +</p> +<p> +"I think not; that is, if somebody should give you a pair; but I hope +somebody never will. It is a mere matter of taste, however. O, children, +now I think of it, I'll give you each a little pin-money to spend, +to-day, just as you like. A dollar each to Prudy and Dotty; and, Horace, +here is fifty cents for Flyaway." +</p> +<p> +"O, you darling auntie!" cried the little Parlins, in a breath. Dotty +shut this, the largest bill she had ever owned, into her red +porte-monnaie, feeling sure she should never want for anything again +that money can buy. +</p> +<p> +"There, now, Hollis," said Fly, drawing her mouth down and her eyebrows +up, "where's my skipt? <i>my</i> skipt?" +</p> +<p> +"What? A little snip like you mustn't have money," answered Horace, +carelessly; "auntie gave it to me." +</p> +<p> +The moment he had spoken the words, he was sorry, for the child was too +young and sensitive to be trifled with. She never doubted that her great +cruel brother had robbed her. It was too much. Her "dove's eyes" shot +fire. Flyaway could be terribly angry, and her anger was "as quick as a +chain o' lightning." Before any one had time to think twice, she had +turned on her little heel, and was running away. With one impulse the +whole party turned and followed. +</p> +<p> +"Prudy and I haven't breath enough to run," said Aunt Madge. "Here we +are at Stewart's. You'll find us in the rotunda, Horace. Come back here +with Fly, as soon as you have caught her." +</p> +<p> +As soon as he had caught her! +</p> +<p> +They were on Broadway, which was lined with people, moving to and fro. +Horace and Dotty had to push their way through the crowd, while little +Fly seemed to float like a creature of air. +</p> +<p> +"Stop, Fly! Stop, Fly!" cried Horace; but that only added speed to her +wings. +</p> +<p> +"She's like a piece of thistle-down," laughed Horace; "when you get near +her you blow her away." +</p> +<p> +"Stop, O, stop," cried Dotty; "Horace was only in fun. Don't run away +from us, Fly." +</p> +<p> +But by this time the child was so far off that the words were lost in +the din. +</p> +<p> +"Why, where is she? I don't see her," exclaimed Horace, as the little +blue figure suddenly vanished, like a puff of smoke. "Did she cross the +street?" +</p> +<p> +"I don't know, Horace. O, dear, I don't know." +</p> +<p> +It was the first time a fear had entered either of their minds. Knowing +very little of the danger of large cities, they had not dreamed that the +foolish little Fly might get caught in some dreadful spider's web. +</p> + + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="CH5"><!-- CH5 --></a> +<h2> + CHAPTER V. +</h2> + +<h3> +DOTTY HAVING HER OWN WAY. +</h3><p> </p> +<p> +Yes, Fly was out of sight; that was certain. Whether she had turned to +the right, or to the left, or had merely gone straight on, fallen down, +and been trampled on, that was the question. How was one to find out? +People enough to inquire of, but nobody to answer. +</p> +<p> +Horace had as many thoughts as a drowning man. How had he ever dared +bring such a will-o'-the-wisp away from home? How had his mother +consented to let him? His father had charged him, over and over, not to +let go Fly's hand in the street. That did very well to talk about; but +what could you do with a child that wasn't made of flesh and blood, but +the very lightest kind of gas? +</p> +<p> +"Dotty, turn down this street, and I'll keep on up Broadway. No—no; +you'd get lost. What shall we do? Go just where I do, as hard as you can +run, and don't lose sight of me." +</p> +<p> +Dotty began to pant. She could not keep on at this rate of speed, and +Horace saw it. +</p> +<p> +"You'll have to go back to Stewart's." +</p> +<p> +"Where's Stewart's?" gasped Dotty, still running. +</p> +<p> +"Why, that stone building on Tenth Street, with blue curtains, where we +left auntie." +</p> +<p> +"I don't know anything about Tenth Street or blue curtains." +</p> +<p> +"But you'll know it when you get there. Just cross over—" +</p> +<p> +"O, Horace Clifford, I can't cross over! There's horses and carriages +every minute; and my mother made me almost promise I wouldn't ever cross +over." +</p> +<p> +"There are plenty of policemen, Dotty; they'll take you by the +shoulder—" +</p> +<p> +"O, Horace Clifford, they shan't take me by the shoulder! S'pose I want +'em marching me off to the lockup?" screamed Dotty, who believed the +lockup was the chief end and aim of policemen. +</p> +<p> +"Well, then, I don't know anything what to do with you," said Horace, in +despair. +</p> +<p> +It seemed very hard that he should have the care of this willful little +cousin, just when he wanted so much to be free to pursue Flyaway. +</p> +<p> +"If you won't go back to Stewart's, you won't. Will you go into this +shop, then, and wait till I call for you?" +</p> +<p> +"You'll forget to call." +</p> +<p> +"I certainly won't forget." +</p> +<p> +"Well, then, I'll go in; but I won't promise to stay. I want to help +hunt for Fly just as much as you do." +</p> +<p> +"Dotty Dimple, look me right in the eye. I can't stop to coax you. I'm +frightened to death about Fly. Do you go into this store, and stay in it +till I call for you, if it's six hours. If you stir, you're lost. +Do—you—<i>hear</i>?" +</p> +<p> +"Yes, I <i>hear</i>.—H'm, he thinks my ears are thick as ears o' corn? No +holes in 'em to hear with, I s'pose! Horace Clifford hasn't got the +<i>say</i> o' me, though. I can go all over town for all o' him!" +</p> +<p> +"What will you have, my little lady?" said a clerk, bowing to Dotty. +</p> +<p> +"I don't want anything, if you please, sir. There was a boy, and he +asked me to stay here while he went to find something." +</p> +<p> +"Very well; sit as long as you please." +</p> +<p> +"Screwed right down into the floor, this piano stool is," thought Dotty; +"makes it real hard to sit on, because you can't whirl it. Guess I'll +walk 'round a while. Why, if here isn't a window right in the floor! +Strong enough to walk on. There's a man going over it with big boots and +a cane. I can look right down into the cellar. Only just I can't see any +thing, though, the glass is so thick." +</p> +<p> +Dotty watched the clerks measuring off yards of cloth, tapping on the +counter, and calling out, "Cash." It was rather funny, at first, to see +the little boys run; but Dotty soon tired of it. +</p> +<p> +"Horace is gone a long while," thought she, going to the door and +looking out. +</p> +<p> +"He has forgotten to call, or he's forgotten where he left me, or else +he hasn't found Fly. Dear, dear! I can't wait. I'll just go out a few +steps, and p'rhaps I'll meet 'em." +</p> +<p> +She walked out a little way, seeing nothing but a multitude of strange +faces. +</p> +<p> +"Well, I should think this was queer! I'll go right back to that store, +and sit down on the piano stool. If Horace Clifford can't be more +polite! Well, I should think!" +</p> +<p> +Dotty went back, and entered, as she supposed, the store she had left; +but a great change had come over it. It had the same counters, and +stools, and goods on lines, marked "Selling off below cost;" but the men +looked very different. "I don't see how they could change round so +quick," thought Dotty; "I haven't been gone <i>more'n</i> a minute." +</p> +<p> +"What shall I serve you to, mees," said one of them, with a smile that +was all black eyes and white teeth. Dotty thought he looked very much +like Lina <i>Rosenbug's</i> brother; and his hair was so shiny and sticky, it +must have been dipped in molasses. +</p> +<p> +She answered him with some confusion. "I don't want anything. I was the +girl, you know, that the boy was going somewhere to find something." +</p> +<p> +The man smiled wickedly, and said, "Yees, mees." In an instant it +flashed across Dotty that she had got into the wrong store. Where was +the glass window she had walked on? They couldn't have taken that out +while she was gone. The floor was whole, and made of nothing but boards. +</p> +<p> +"Well, it's very queer stores should be <i>twins</i>," thought Dotty. +</p> +<p> +She entered the next one. It was not a "twin;" it was full of books and +pictures. +</p> +<p> +"Why didn't Horace leave me here, in the first place, it was so much +nicer. And they let people read and handle the pictures. O, they have +the <i>goldest</i>-looking things!" +</p> +<p> +How shocked Prudy would have been, if she had seen her little sister +reaching up to the counter, and turning over the leaves of books, side +by side with grown people! Miss Dimple was never very bashful; and what +did she care for the people in New York, who never saw her before? She +soon became absorbed in a fairy story. Seconds, minutes, quarters; it +was a whole hour before she came to herself enough to remember that +Horace was to call for her, and she was not where he had left her. +</p> +<p> +"But he can't scold; for didn't he keep me waiting, too? Now I'll go +back." +</p> +<p> +The next place she entered was a cigar store. +</p> +<p> +"I might have known better than to go in; for there's that wooden Indian +standing there, a-purpose to keep ladies out!" +</p> +<p> +"O, here's a 'Sample Room.' Now this <i>must</i> be the place, for it says +'Push,' on the green door, just as the other one did." +</p> +<p> +What was Dotty's astonishment, when she found she had rushed into a room +which held only tables, bottles, and glasses, and men drinking something +that smelt like hot brandy! +</p> +<p> +"I shan't go into any more 'Sample Rooms.' I didn't know a 'Sample' +meant whiskey! But, I do declare, it's funny where <i>my</i> store is gone +to." +</p> +<p> +The child was going farther and farther away from it. +</p> +<p> +"Here is one that looks a little like it Any way, I can see a glass +window in there, on the floor." +</p> +<p> +A lady stood at a counter, folding a piece of green velvet ribbon. Dotty +determined to make friends with her; so she went up to her, and said, in +a low voice, "Will you please tell me, ma'am, if I'm the same little +girl that was in here before? No, I don't mean so. I mean, did I go into +the same store, or is this a different one? Because there's a boy going +to call for me, and I thought I'd better know." +</p> +<p> +Of course the lady smiled, and said it might, or might not be the same +place; but she did not remember to have seen Dotty before. +</p> +<p> +"What was the number of the store? The boy ought to have known." +</p> +<p> +"But I don't believe he did," replied Dotty, indignantly; "he never said +a word to me about numbers. I'm almost afraid I'll get lost!" +</p> +<p> +"I should be quite afraid of it, child. Where do you live?" +</p> +<p> +"In Portland, in the State of Maine. Prudy and I came to New York: our +auntie sent for us—I know the place when I see it; side of a church +with ivy; but O, dear! I'm afraid the stage don't stop there. She's at +Mr. Stewart's—she and Prudy." +</p> +<p> +"Do you mean Stewart's store?" +</p> +<p> +"O, no'm; it's a man she knows," replied Dotty, confidently; "he lives +in a blue house." +</p> +<p> +The lady asked no more questions. If Dotty had said "Stewart's store," +and had remembered that the curtains were blue, and not the building, +Miss Kopper would have thought she knew what to do; she would have sent +the child straight to Stewart's. +</p> +<p> +"Poor little thing!" said she, twisting the long curl, which hung down +the back of her neck like a bell-rope, and looking as if she cared more +about her hair than she cared for all the children in Portland. "The +best thing you can do is to go right into the druggist's, next door but +one, and look in the City Directory. Do you know your aunt's husband's +name?" +</p> +<p> +"O, yes'm. Colonel Augustus Allen, <i>Fiftieth</i> Avenue." +</p> +<p> +"Well, then, there'll be no difficulty. Just go in and ask to look in +the Directory; they'll tell you what stage to take. Now I must attend to +these ladies. Hope you'll get home safe." +</p> +<p> +"A handsome child," said one of the ladies. "Yes, from the country," +replied Miss Kopper with a sweet smile; "I have just been showing her +the way home." +</p> +<p> +Ah, Miss Kopper, perhaps you thought you were telling the truth; but +instead of relieving the country child's perplexity, you had confused +her more than ever. What should Dotty Dimple know about a City +Directory? She forgot the name of it before she got to the druggist's. +</p> +<p> +"Please, sir, there's something in here,—may I see it?—that shows +folks where they live." +</p> +<p> +"A policeman?" +</p> +<p> +"No; O, no, sir." +</p> +<p> +After some time, the gentleman, being rather shrewd, surmised what she +wanted, and gave her the book. +</p> +<p> +"Not that, sir," said Dotty, ready to cry. +</p> +<p> +Perhaps you will be as ready to laugh, when you hear that the child +really supposed a City Directory was an instrument that drew out and +shut up like a telescope, and, by peeping through it, she could see the +distant home of Colonel Allen, on "Fiftieth Avenue." +</p> +<p> +The apothecary did not laugh at her; but, being a kind man, and, +moreover, not having curls hanging down his neck which needed attention, +he gave his whole care to Dotty, found an omnibus for her, told the +driver just where to let her out, and made her repeat her uncle's street +and number till he thought there was no danger of a mistake. +</p> + + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="CH6"><!-- CH6 --></a> +<h2> + CHAPTER VI. +</h2> + +<h3> +DOTTY REBUKED. +</h3><p> </p> +<p> +One would have thought that now all Dotty's troubles were over; and so +they would have been, if she had not tried so hard to remember the +number. She said it over and over so many times, that all of a sudden it +went out of her mind. It was like rolling a ball on the ground, backward +and forward, till most unexpectedly it pops into a hole. Very much +frightened, Dotty bit her lip, twirled her front hair, and pinched her +left cheek—all in vain; the number wouldn't come. +</p> +<p> +"O, dear, what'll I do? I'd open that cellar door, where the driver is; +but he's all done up in a blue cape, and don't know anything only how +to whip his horses. And there don't anybody know where anybody lives in +this city; so it's no use to ask. For what do they care? They'd tell you +to look in the Dictionary. There's nobody in Portland ever told me to +look in a Dictionary. Here they are, sitting round here, just as happy, +all but me. They all live in a number, and they know what it is; but +they keep it to themselves,—they don't tell. It always makes people +feel better to know where they're going to. When I'm in Portland I know +how to get to Park Street, and how to get to Munjoy, and how to get to +Back Cove, with my eyes shut. But they don't make things as they ought +to in New York. You can't find out what to do." +</p> +<p> +So the stage rumbled, and Dotty grumbled. Presently a lady in an ermine +cloak got out, and Dotty did not know of anything better to do than to +follow. She certainly was on Fifth Avenue, and perhaps, if she walked +on, she should come to the number. +</p> +<p> +"There isn't any house along here that looks like auntie's," said she, +anxiously; "only they all look like it some. I never saw such a place as +this city, So many same things right over, and over; and then, when you +go into 'em, its just as different, and not the place you s'posed it +was." +</p> +<p> +Here Dotty ran up some steps, and rang a bell. She thought the damask +curtains looked familiar. +</p> +<p> +"No, no," cried she, running down again, as fast as the mouse ran down +the clock; "my auntie don't keep onions in her bay window, I hope!" +</p> +<p> +It was hyacinth bulbs, in glass vases, which had excited Dotty's +disgust. +</p> +<p> +"O, I guess I'm on the wrong side of the street; no wonder I can't find +the house. There, I see a chamber window open; <i>our</i> chamber window was +open. I'm going to cross over and get near enough to see if there's a +little clock on the shelf that ticks like a dog wagging his tail." +</p> +<p> +No, there was no clock of any sort, and where the shelf ought to be was +a baby's crib. +</p> +<p> +"Well, any way, here's that beautiful church, with ivy round it; it's +ever so near auntie's; so I'll keep walking." +</p> +<p> +Dotty was right when she said the church was near auntie's—it was +within three doors; but she was wrong when she kept walking precisely +the wrong way. She crossed over to Sixth Avenue. Now, where were the +brown houses? She saw the horse-cars plodding along, and tried to read +the words on them. +</p> +<p> +"'Sixth Ave. and Fifty-Ninth Street.' Why, what's an <i>ave</i>? I never heard +of such a thing before; we don't have 'aves' in Portland. There are ever +so many people getting out of that car. While it stops, I'll peep in, +and see where it's going to. Perhaps there's a name inside that tells." +</p> +<p> +And, with her usual rashness, Dotty stepped upon the platform of the +car, and looked in. What she expected to see she hardly knew,—perhaps +"Aunt Madge's House," in gold letters; but what she really saw was, "No +Smoking;" those two words, and nothing more. +</p> +<p> +"Well, who wants to smoke? I'm sure <i>I</i> don't," thought Dotty, +disdainfully, and was turning to step off the platform, when Horace +Clifford seized her by the shoulder. +</p> +<p> +"Where did you come from, you runaway?" said he, gruffly. +</p> +<p> +Close beside him were Aunt Madge and Prudy; all three were getting out +of the car. +</p> +<p> +"Thank Heaven, one of them is found," cried Aunt Madge, her face very +pale, her large eyes full of trouble. +</p> +<p> +Prudy kissed and scolded in the same breath. "O, Dotty Dimple, you'd +better believe we're glad to see you?—but what a naughty girl! A pretty +race you've led Horace, and he just wild about Fly!" +</p> +<p> +"H'm! what'd he go off for, then, and leave me there, sitting on a piano +stool? S'pose I's going to sit there all day? Didn't I want to go home +as much as the rest of you." +</p> +<p> +"And how did you get home? I'd like to know that," said Horace, walking +on with great strides, and then coming back again to the "ladies;" for +his anxiety about his little sister would not allow him to behave +calmly. +</p> +<p> +"I rode." +</p> +<p> +"You weren't in the car <i>we</i> came in." +</p> +<p> +"N-o; I just happened to be peeking in there you know. But I came in an +<i>omnibius</i>." +</p> +<p> +"It is wonderful," said Aunt Madge, looking puzzled, "that you ever knew +what omnibus to take." +</p> +<p> +Dotty looked down to see if her boot was buttoned, and forgot to look up +again. "Well, <i>I</i> shouldn't have known one <i>omnibius</i>, as you call it, +from another," said Prudy, lost in admiration. "Why, Dotty, how bright +you are! And there we were, so afraid about you, and spoke to a +policeman to look you up." +</p> +<p> +"I wouldn't let a p'liceman catch <i>me</i>," said Dotty, tossing her head. +"But haven't you found Fly yet?" +</p> +<p> +They were at home by this time, and Horace was ringing the bell. +</p> +<p> +"No, the dear child is still missing; but the police are on her track," +said Aunt Madge, looking at her watch. "It is now one o'clock. Keep a +good heart, Horace, my boy. John shall go straight to the telegraph +office, and wait there for a despatch. Don't you leave us, dear; we +can't spare you, and you can do no good." +</p> +<p> +Horace made no reply, except to tap the heels of his boots together. He +looked utterly crushed. A large city was just as strange to him as it +was to Dotty, and he could only obey his aunt's orders, and try to hope +for the best. Dotty seemed to be the only one who felt like saying a +word, and she talked incessantly. +</p> +<p> +"O, what'd you send the p'lice after her for? To put her in the lockup, +and make her cry and think she's been naughty? It's the awfulest city +that ever I saw. Folks might send her home, if they were a mind to, but +they won't. They don't care what 'comes of you. There's cars and stages +going to which ways, and nothing but 'No Smoking,' inside. And I went +and peeped in at a window, and there was <i>onions</i>! And how'd I know +where to go to? There was a girl with a long curl, and she said, 'Go to +the 'pothecary's;' and what would Fly have known where she meant? And he +looked in a Dictionary, and put me in a stage,—I was going to tell you +about that when I got ready,—and asked me if I had ten cents, and I +had; and then I forgot what the number was, and that was the time I saw +the onions, or I should have gone right into somebody's else's house. +And I knew there was a church with ivy round, but Fly don't know; she's +nothing but a baby. And I should have thought, Horace Clifford, you +might have given her that money! That was what made her run off; you was +real cruel, and that's why I wouldn't mind what you said. And—and—" +</p> +<p> +"Hush," said Aunt Madge, brushing back a spray of fair curls, which the +wind had tossed over her forehead. "I don't allow a word of scolding in +my house. If you don't feel pleasant, Dotty, you may go into the back +yard and scold into a hole." +</p> +<p> +Dotty stopped suddenly. She knew her aunt was displeased; she felt it in +the tones of her voice. +</p> +<p> +"Dotty, the wind has been at play with your hair as well as mine. +Suppose we both go up stairs a few minutes?" +</p> +<p> +"There, auntie's going to reason with me," thought Dotty, winding slowly +up the staircase; "I didn't suppose she was one of that kind." +</p> +<p> +"No dear, I'm <i>not</i> one of that kind," said Mrs. Allen, roguishly; for +she saw just what the child was thinking. "'I come not here to talk.' +All I have to say is this: Disobey again, and I send you home +immediately." +</p> +<p> +"Yes'm," said the little culprit, blushing crimson. "Now, brush your +hair, and let us go down." This was the only allusion Mrs. Allen ever +made to the subject; but after this, she and Dotty understood each other +perfectly. Dotty had learned, once for all, that her aunt was not to be +trifled with. +</p> +<p> +The child really was ashamed—thoroughly ashamed; but do you suppose +she admitted it to Horace? Not she. And he, so full of anguish +concerning the lost Fly, found not a word of fault; scarcely even +thought of his naughty cousin at all. +</p> + + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="CH7"><!-- CH7 --></a> +<h2> + CHAPTER VII. +</h2> + +<h3> +THE LOST FLY. +</h3><p> </p> +<p> +Now we must go back and see what has become of the little one. +</p> +<p> +At first her heart had swollen with rage. Anger had set her going, just +as a blow from a battledoor sends off a shuttlecock. And, once being +started, the poor little shuttlecock couldn't stop. +</p> +<p> +"Auntie gave me that skipt. Hollis is a very wicked boy; steals skipt +from little gee-urls. I don't ever want to see Hollis no more." +</p> +<p> +What she meant to do, or where to go, she had no more idea than the blue +clouds overhead. She had no doubt her brother was close behind, trying +to overtake her. Her sole thought was, that she "wouldn't ever see +Hollis no more." She knew nothing could make him so unhappy as that. +"I'll lose me, and then how'll he feel?" +</p> +<p> +"Lose me!" A wild thought, gone in a moment; but meanwhile she was +already lost. +</p> +<p> +"I hope auntie won't give Hollis nuffin to eat, 'cause he's took away my +skipt; nuffin to eat but meat and vertato, athout any pie." +</p> +<p> +Flyaway shook her head so hard, that the "war-plume" under her bonnet +would have nodded, if the air could have got at it. "Why, where's +Hollis?" said she, looking back, and finding, to her surprise, he was +not to be seen. "I spected he'd come. I thought I heard him walking +ahind me." +</p> +<p> +Flyaway's anger had died out by this time. It never lasted longer than +a Fourth of July torpedo. +</p> +<p> +"He didn't know I runned off. Guess I'll go back, and he'll give me the +skipt; and then I'll forgive him all goody." +</p> +<p> +A very nice plan; only, instead of going back, she turned a corner, and +tripped along towards University Place. She had twisted her head so much +in looking for Horace, that it was completely turned round. And, +besides, a little farther on was a man playing a harp, and a small boy a +violin. Fly paused and listened, till she no longer remembered Horace or +the "skipt." She forgot this was New York, and dreamed she had come to +fairy-land. Her soul was full of music. Happy thoughts about nothing in +particular made her smile and clap her hands. Birds, flowers, Santa +Clauses, Flipperties, and "pepnits" seemed to hover near. Something +beautiful was just going to happen, she didn't know what. +</p> +<p> +After the man had played for some time without attracting attention from +any body but Flyaway and a poor old beggar woman, he put his harp in a +green bag, slung it over his shoulder, and walked off. Flyaway followed +without knowing it. Down Sixth Avenue went the music-man, and close at +his heels went she. By and by she saw a little girl, no larger than +herself, with a great bundle on her shoulders. +</p> +<p> +"You don't s'pose she's got a music on <i>her</i> back?—No, not a music; +it's too soft all swelled out in a bunch." +</p> +<p> +Fly went nearer the little girl, to see what she was carrying; and as +she did so, some gray coals, mixed with ashes, fell out of the bundle +upon her nice cloak. +</p> +<p> +"Why, she's been and carried off her mother's fireplace," thought Fly, +shaking her cloak in disgust; "what you s'pose she wanted to do that +for?" +</p> +<p> +But far from carrying off her mother's fireplace, the ragged little girl +had only been picking up old coal out of barrels, and was taking it home +to burn. It had already been burned once, and picked over and burned +again, and thrown away; but perhaps this poor child's mother could coax +it into a faint glow, warm enough to fry a few potatoes. +</p> +<p> +While Flyaway was shaking her cloak, and staring at some old silk +dresses and bed-quilts, which were hung before a shop-door, the man with +the harp on his back, and the boy with a violin under his arm, had +turned a corner, and passed out of sight. Flyaway rubbed her eyes, and +looked again. They must have gone down through the brick pavement, but +she couldn't see any hole. Far away in the distance she heard their +music again, and it did not come from under ground. She ran to overtake +it, and turned into Bleecker Street. No music-man there, but a good +supply of oranges and apples. +</p> +<p> +"Needn't folks put their hands in, and take some out the barrels? Then +why for did the folks put 'em on' doors?" +</p> +<p> +While pondering this grave question, she was jostled by a man carrying a +rocking-chair, and very nearly fell down stairs into an oyster-saloon. A +minute more and she was back on Broadway, the very street, where Aunt +Madge and Prudy were waiting for her, but so much lower down that she +might as well have been in the State of Maine. +</p> +<p> +"Now, I'll go find my Hollis," said she turning another corner, and +running the wrong way with all her might. Past candy-stalls, past +toy-shops, past orange-wagons. Hark, music again! Not the soft strains +of a harp, but the stirring notes of bugle, fife, and drum. Fly kept +time with her feet. +</p> +<p> +"Here we go marchin' on," hummed she. But the crowd "marchin' on" with +her was a strange one. Carts full of hammers, pincers, and all sorts of +iron tools, and men in gray shirts, with black caps on their heads. Some +of the men had banners, with great black words, such as "Equal Rights," +or something like them, in German; but of course Fly could not tell one +letter from another. She only knew it was all very "homebly," in spite +of the music. She began to think she had better get away as soon as she +could; so she tried to cross the street, but some one held her back; it +was a lady, carrying a small dog in her arms, like a baby. +</p> +<p> +"Don't go there, child; that's a strike, you'll get killed." +</p> +<p> +Fly knew but one meaning for the word <i>strike</i>; and, tearing herself +from the lady, ran screaming down Broadway, with the thought that every +man's hand was against her. +</p> +<p> +On she went, and on went the strike, close behind her. A little while +ago she had been following music, and now music was following her. But +the fifes and drums were rather slow, and Flyaway's feet were very +swift; so it was not long before the gray men, with their white banners +and clattering carts, were far behind her. No danger now that any of the +wicked creatures would strike her; so she slackened her pace. +</p> +<p> +She did begin to wonder why she had not found Horace; still, she was not +at all alarmed, and there was a dreadful din in the streets, which +confused her thoughts. It seemed as if people were making it on purpose. +Once, at Willowbrook, she had heard boys banging tin pans, grinding +coffee mills, and pounding with mortars. She had liked that,—they +called it the "Calathumpian Band,"—and she liked this too; it sounded +about as uproarious. +</p> +<p> +While she sauntered along, spying wonders, her eye was attracted by some +balancing-toys, which a man was showing off at one of the corners. What +a pleasant man he was, to set them spinning just to amuse little girls! +Fly was delighted with one wee soldier, in a blue coat with brass +buttons, who kept dancing and bowing with the greatest politeness. +"Captain Jinks, of the horse-marines," said the toy-man, introducing +him. "Buy him, miss; he'll make a nice little husband for you; only +fifteen cents." +</p> +<p> +Fly felt quite flattered. It was the first time in her life any one had +ever asked her to buy anything, and she thought she must have grown tall +since she came from Indiana. She put her fingers in her mouth, then took +them out, and put them in her pocket. +</p> +<p> +"Here's my porte-monnaie-ry," said she, dolefully; "but I haven't but +two cents—no more. Hollis carried it off." +</p> +<p> +"Well, well, run along, then. Don't you see you're right in the way?" +</p> +<p> +Fly was surprised and grieved at the change in the man's tone: she had +expected he would pity her for not having any money. +</p> +<p> +"Come here, you little lump of love," called out a mellow voice; and +there, close by, sat a wizened old woman, making flowers into nosegays. +She had on a quilted hood as soft as her voice, but everything else +about her was as hard as the door-stone she sat on. +</p> +<p> +"See my beautiful flowers," said the old crone, pointing to the table +before her; "who cares for them jumping things over yonder? I don't." +</p> +<p> +The flowers were tied in bouquets—sweet violets, rosebuds, and +heliotrope. Fly, whose head just reached the top of the table, smelt +them, and forgot the "little husband, for fifteen cents." +</p> +<p> +"He's a cross man, dearie," said the old woman, lowering her voice, "or +he wouldn't have sent you off so quick, just because you hadn't any +money. Now, I love little girls, and I'll warrant we can make some kind +of a trade for one of my posies." +</p> +<p> +Fly smiled, and quickly seized a bouquet with a clove pink in it. +</p> +<p> +"Not so fast, child! What you got that you can give me for it? I don't +mind the money. That old pocket-book will do, though 'tain't wuth much." +</p> +<p> +It was very surprising to Fly to hear her port-monnaie called old; for +it was bought last week, and was still as red as the cheeks of the +painted lady. +</p> +<p> +"I don't <i>dass</i> to give folks my porte-monnaie-ry," said she, clutching +it tighter, but holding the flowers to her nose all the while. +</p> +<p> +"O, fudge! Well, what else you got in your pocket? A handkerchief?" +</p> +<p> +"No, my hangerfiss is in my muff." +</p> +<p> +"That? Why, there isn't a speck o' lace on it. Nice little ladies always +has lace. Here's a letter in the corner; what is it?" +</p> +<p> +"Hollis says it's K; stands for Flyaway." +</p> +<p> +"Well, you're such a pretty little pink, I guess I'll take it; but +'tain't wuth lookin' at," said the crafty old woman, who saw at a glance +it was pure linen, and quite fine. +</p> +<p> +"Now run along, baby; your mummer will be waitin' for you." +</p> +<p> +Fly walked on slowly. Ought she to have parted with her very best +hangerfiss! +</p> +<p> +"Nice ole lady, loved little gee-urls; but what you s'pose folks was +goin' to cry into now?" +</p> +<p> +Tears started at the thought. One of them dropped into the eye of the +squirrel, who sat on the muff, peeping up into her face. +</p> +<p> +"Nice ole lady, I s'pose; but folks never wanted to buy my +<i>hangerfisses</i> byfore!" thought Fly, much puzzled by the state of +society in New York. "And I've got some beau-fler flowers to my auntie's +house. Wake up—wake up!" added she, blowing open a pink rose-bud; +"you's too little for me." +</p> +<p> +But the bud did not wish to wake up and be a rose; it curled itself +together, and went to sleep again. +</p> +<p> +"I don't see where Hollis stays to all the time," exclaimed the little +one, beginning to have a faint curiosity about it. +</p> + + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="CH8"><!-- CH8 --></a> +<h2> + CHAPTER VIII. +</h2> + +<h3> +"THE FRECKLED DOG." +</h3><p> </p> +<p> +But just then a gentle-looking blind girl came along led by a dog. The +sight was so strange that Flyaway stopped to admire; for whatever else +she might be afraid of, she always loved and trusted a dog. +</p> +<p> +"Doggie, doggie," cried she, patting the little animal's head. +</p> +<p> +"O, <i>what</i> a sweet voice," said the blind girl, putting out her hand and +groping till she touched Fly's shoulder. "I never heard such a voice!" +</p> +<p> +This was what strangers often said, and Flyaway never doubted the +sweetness was caused by eating so much candy; but just now she had had +none for two days. +</p> +<p> +"What makes you shut your eyes up, right in the street, girl? Is the +<i>seeingness</i> all gone out of 'em?" +</p> +<p> +"Yes, you darling. I haven't had any seeingness in my eyes for a year." +</p> +<p> +"You didn't? Then you's <i>blind-eyed</i>," returned Flyaway, with perfect +coolness. +</p> +<p> +"And don't you feel sorry for me—not a bit?" +</p> +<p> +"No, 'cause your dog is freckled so pretty." +</p> +<p> +"But I can't see his freckles." +</p> +<p> +"Well, he's got 'em. Little yellow ones, spattered out all over him." +</p> +<p> +"But if I had eyes like you, I shouldn't need any dog. I could go about +the streets alone." +</p> +<p> +"Well, I don't like to go 'bout the streets alone; I want my own +brother Hollis." +</p> +<p> +"I hope you haven't got lost, little dear?" +</p> +<p> +"No," laughed Fly, gayly; "I didn't get lost! But I don't know where +nobody is! And there don't nobody know where <i>I</i> am!" +</p> +<p> +The blind girl took Fly's little hand tenderly in hers. +</p> +<p> +"Come, turn down this street with me, and tell me all about it." +</p> +<p> +Fly trudged along, prattling merrily, for about a minute: then she drew +away. "'Tisn't a nice place; I don't want to go there." +</p> +<p> +A look of pain crossed the blind girl's face. +</p> +<p> +"No, I dare say you don't. It isn't much of a place for folks with silk +bonnets on." +</p> +<p> +"You can't see my bonnet; you can't see anything, you're blind-eyed; +but," said Fly, glancing sharply around, "it isn't pretty here, at all; +and there's a dead cat right in the street." +</p> +<p> +"Yes, I think likely." +</p> +<p> +"And there's a boy. I spect he frowed the cat out the window; he hasn't +nuffin on but dirty cloe's." +</p> +<p> +"Do you see some steps?" said the blind girl, putting her hand out +cautiously. "Don't fall down." +</p> +<p> +"I shan't fall down; I'm going home." +</p> +<p> +"O, don't child; you must come with me. My mother will take care of +you." +</p> +<p> +"I don't want nobody's mother to take 'are o' me; I've got a mamma +myself!" +</p> +<p> +"How little you know!" said the blind girl, thinking aloud; "how lucky +it is I found you! and O, dear, how I wish I could see! You'll slip +away in spite of me." +</p> +<p> +But Flyaway allowed herself to be drawn along, step by step, partly +because she liked the "freckled dog," and partly because she had not +ceased being amused by the droll sight of a person walking with closed +eyes. +</p> +<p> +"What's the name of you, girl?" +</p> +<p> +"Maria." +</p> +<p> +"Maria? So was my mamma; her name was Maria, when she was a little girl. +O, look, there's another boy; don't you see him? Up high, in that house. +Got a big box with a string to it." +</p> +<p> +A very rough-looking boy was standing at a third-story window, lowering +a bandbox by a clothes-line. As Fly watched the box slowly coming down, +the boy called out,— +</p> +<p> +"Get in, little un, and I'll give you a free ride." +</p> +<p> +"O, no—O, no; I don't <i>dass</i> to." +</p> +<p> +"Yes, yes; go in, lemons," said the boy, choking with laughter, as he +saw the child's horror. "If you don't do it, by cracky, I'll come down +and fetch you." +</p> +<p> +At this, Fly was frightened nearly out of her senses, and ran so fast +that the dog could scarcely have kept up with her, even if he had not +had a blind mistress pulling him back. +</p> +<p> +"O, where are you?" exclaimed Maria. "Don't run away from me,—don't!" +</p> +<p> +"He's a-gon to kill me in two," cried Flyaway, stopping for breath.' +"he's a-gon to kill me in two-oo!" +</p> +<p> +"No, he isn't, dear! It's only Izzy Paul He couldn't catch you, if he +tried. He's lame, and goes on crutches." +</p> +<p> +"But he said a swear word,—yes he, did," sobbed the child, never +doubting that a boy who could swear was capable of murder, though he had +neither hands nor feet. +</p> +<p> +"Stop, now," said Maria, clutching Fly as if she had been a spinning +top. "This is my house. Mother, mother, here's a little girl; catch +her—hold her—keep her!" +</p> +<p> +"Me? What should I catch a little girl for?" said Mrs. Brooks, a faded +woman with a tired face, and a nose that moved up and down when she +talked. She had been standing at the door of their tumbledown tenement, +looking for her daughter, and was surprised to see her bringing a +strange child with her. It was not often that well-dressed people +wandered into that dirty alley. +</p> +<p> +"The poor little thing has got lost, mother. Perhaps <i>you</i> can find out +where she came from. I didn't ask her any questions; it was as much as I +could do to keep up with her." +</p> +<p> +Maria put her hand on her side. Fast walking always tired her, for she +was afraid every moment of falling. +</p> +<p> +They had to go down a flight of stairs to get into the house; and after +they got there Fly looked around in dismay. +</p> +<p> +"I don't want to stay in the stable," she murmured. Indeed it was not +half as nice as the place where her father kept his horse. +</p> +<p> +"But this is where we have to live," sighed Maria. +</p> +<p> +"Have things to eat?" asked the little stranger, in a solemn whisper. +</p> +<p> +There were a few chairs with broken backs, a few shelves with clean +dishes, a few children with hungry faces. In one corner was a clumsy +bedstead, and in a tidy bed lay a pale man. +</p> +<p> +"Who've you got there, Maria?" said he. "Bring her along, and stick her +up on the bed." +</p> +<p> +"Don't be afraid," said Mrs. Brooks; "it's only pa; wouldn't the little +girl like to talk to him? He's sick." +</p> +<p> +Flyaway was not at all afraid, for the man smiled pleasantly, and did +not look as if he would hurt anybody. Mrs. Brooks set her on the bed, +and Maria, afraid of losing her, held her by one foot. The children all +crowded around to see the little lady in a silk bonnet holding a +button-hole bouquet to her bosom. +</p> +<p> +"Ain't she a ducky dilver!" said the oldest boy. "Pa'll be pleased, for +he don't see things much. Has to keep abed all the time." +</p> +<p> +Mr. Brooks tried to smile, and Flyaway whispered to Maria, with sudden +pity,— +</p> +<p> +"Sorry he's sick. Has he got to stay sick? Can't you find the camphor +bottle?" +</p> +<p> +"O, father, she thinks if ycu had some camphor to smell of, 'twould cure +you." +</p> +<p> +Then they all laughed, and Fly timidly offered the sick man her flowers. +</p> +<p> +"What, that pretty posy for me? Bless you, baby, they'll do me a sight +more good than camfire!" +</p> +<p> +"There," said Maria, joyfully, "now pa is pleased; I know by the sound +of his voice. Poor pa! only think, little girl, a stick of timber fell +on him, and lamed him for life!" +</p> +<p> +"Yes," said Bennie, "the lower part of him is as limber as a rag." +</p> +<p> +"She don't sense a word you say," remarked Mrs. Brooks, shaking up a +pillow, "See what we can get out of her. What's your name, dear?" +</p> +<p> +"Katie Clifford." +</p> +<p> +"Where do you live?" +</p> +<p> +"I <i>have</i> been borned in Nindiana." +</p> +<p> +Fly spoke with some pride. She considered her birth an honor to the +state. +</p> +<p> +"But where did you come from, Katie? That's what we mean." +</p> +<p> +"I camed from heaven," said the child, with one of her wise looks. +</p> +<p> +"Beats all, don't she?" cried Mr. Brooks, admiringly. "Looks like an +angel, I declare for't. Did you just drop down out of the sky?" +</p> +<p> +"No, sir," answered Flyaway, folding her little hands as if she were +saying her prayers; "I camed down when I was a baby." +</p> + +<a name="image-1"><!-- Image 1 --></a> +<p class="figure"> +<img src="angel.jpg" width="80%" +alt="'I Camed Down when I Was a Baby.'"><br /> +<b>'I Camed Down when I Was a Baby.'</b></p> + +<p> +"That's what makes your hair so <i>goldy</i>," said Bennie. "Mother, did you +ever see such eyes? Say, did you ever? So soft, and kinder shiny, too." +</p> +<p> +"Children, don't stare at her; it makes her uneasy." +</p> +<p> +"<i>I</i> can't stare at her," said Maria, bitterly. "I suppose you don't +mean me, mother." +</p> +<p> +Mrs. Brooks only answered her poor daughter by a kiss. +</p> +<p> +"Well, little Katie, after you were born in <i>Nindiana</i>, you came to New +York. When did you come?" +</p> +<p> +"One of these other days I camed here with Hollis." +</p> +<p> +"Who's Hollis?" +</p> +<p> +"He's my own brother. Got a new cap. Had his hair cut." +</p> +<p> +"Who did you come to New York to see?" "My auntie." +</p> +<p> +"Her auntie! A great deal of satisfaction we are likely to get out of +this child," said Mr. Brooks, laughing. He had not laughed before for a +week. +</p> +<p> +"What's your auntie's name?" +</p> +<p> +"Aunt Madge." +</p> +<p> +"Is she married?" +</p> +<p> +"O, yes; and so's Uncle 'Gustus. Married together, and live together, +just the same." +</p> +<p> +"Uncle 'Gustus who? Now we'll come at it!" +</p> +<p> +"Alling," replied Fly, her quick eyes roving about the room, for she was +tired of these questions. +</p> +<p> +"Allen, Augustus Allen!" said Mr. Brooks, in surprise; "I wonder if +there can be two of them. Tell me, child, how does he look?" +</p> +<p> +"Don't look like you," replied Fly, after a keen survey of Mr. Brooks. +"Your face is pulled away down long, like that;" (stretching her hand +out straight) "Uncle 'Gustus's face is squeezed up short" (doubling her +hand into a ball) +</p> +<p> +"I'll warrant it is the colonel himself," said Mrs. Brooks, smiling at +the description. +</p> +<p> +"Yes, that's the name of him; the 'kernil's' the name of him." +</p> +<p> +"Is it possible!" said Mr. Brooks, looking very much pleased. +</p> +<p> +"Uncle 'Gustus has curly hair on his cheeks, on his mouf, all round. +<i>Not</i> little prickles, sticking out like needles." +</p> +<p> +"O, you girl!" said Bennie, frowning at Fly. "You mustn't laugh at my +pa's beard. There's a man comes in, sometimes, and shaves him nice; but +now the man's gone to Newark." +</p> +<p> +"Is it possible," repeated Mrs. Brooks, taking the child's hand, "that +this is Colonel Allen's little niece, and my Maria found her!" +</p> +<p> +"Your Maria didn't find me," said Fly, decidedly; "I founded Maria." +</p> +<p> +"So she did, pa. The first thing I knew, I heard somebody calling, +Doggie, doggie,' in such a sweet voice; and then I looked—no, of course +I <i>couldn't</i> look." +</p> +<p> +Here the discouraged look came over Maria's mouth, and she said no more. +</p> +<p> +"There, there, cheer up, daughter," said Mr. Brooks, with tears in his +eyes; "I was only going on to say, it is passing strange that any of our +family should run afoul of one of the colonel's folks." +</p> +<p> +"It's the Lord's doings; I haven't the slightest doubt of it," said Mrs. +Brooks, earnestly. "You know what I've been saying to you, pa." +</p> +<p> +"There, there, ma'am, <i>don't</i>," said Mr. Brooks; "don't go to raising +false hopes. You know I'm too proud to beg of anybody's folks." +</p> +<p> +"Why, pa, I shouldn't call it begging just to tell Colonel Allen how you +are situated! Do you suppose, if he knew the facts of the case, he'd be +willing to let you suffer? Such a faithful man as you used to be to +work." +</p> +<p> +"No, I think it's likely he wouldn't. He's got more heart than some rich +folks; but I hain't no sort of claim on the colonel, if I did help build +his house. And then, ma'am, you know I've been kind o' hopin'—" +</p> +<p> +"Guess I'll go now, and find Hollis," said Fly, slipping down from the +bed, for the talk did not interest her. +</p> +<p> +"O, but I want to go with you, Katie," said Mrs. Brooks, coaxingly. +"Bennie, you amuse her, while I change my dress." +</p> + + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="CH9"><!-- CH9 --></a> +<h2> + CHAPTER IX. +</h2> + +<h3> +MARIA'S MOTHER. +</h3><p> </p> +<p> +"I know your uncle must feel dreadfully to lose you; but never +mind—he'll see you soon," said Mr. Brooks. +</p> +<p> +"O, Uncle 'Gustus isn't there." +</p> +<p> +"Not there?" said Mrs. Brooks, turning round from the cracked +looking-glass. "Where then?" +</p> +<p> +"O, he's gone off." +</p> +<p> +"Gone off? Why, pa, ain't that too bad? I'm right up and down +disappointed. But, then, the colonel has a wife; I can go to see her, +you know; and I'll tell her just how you're situ—" +</p> +<p> +"My Aunt Madge is gone off, too." +</p> +<p> +"You don't say so!" +</p> +<p> +"And my brother Hollis is gone." +</p> +<p> +"This is a funny piece of work if it's true," said Mr. Brooks, with +another genuine laugh; "you'd better ask her a few more questions before +you start out. Who else is gone? Have they shut the house up?" +</p> +<p> +"Yes, sir; shut it right up tight." +</p> +<p> +"Nobody in it, at all?" +</p> +<p> +"No, only the men and women. Prudy's gone, and Dotty Dimple's gone, and +I'm gone." +</p> +<p> +"Only the men and women, she says. That must be the servants. So the +house must be open, pa. At any rate, I shall take her. Say by-bye, my +pretty, and we'll be starting." +</p> +<p> +Fly was very glad to go, but Maria clung to her fondly, and Bennie ran +after her almost to Broadway, where Mrs. Brooks took a Fifth Avenue +stage. She knew Colonel Allen's house very well, for she had seen it +more than once, while it was in process of building. That was two or +three years ago, when her husband was well, and the family lived very +comfortably on Thirty-third Street. She sighed as she thought how +different it was now. Mr. Brooks would never be able to work any more; +they hardly had food enough to eat, and poor Maria had lost her +eyesight. +</p> +<p> +"Here we are, little Katie," said she. +</p> +<p> +But the child did not wait to be helped out; she danced down the steps, +and would have flown across the street, if Mrs. Brooks had not caught +her. +</p> +<p> +"I see it—I see it; my auntie's house. But there isn't nobody to it." +</p> +<p> +The man who met them at the door was so surprised and delighted to see +Fly, that he forgot his manners, and did not ask Mrs. Brooks in. +</p> +<p> +"Bless us, the baby's found!" cried he, and ran to spread the news. +</p> +<p> +Aunt Madge was walking the parlor floor, and Horace sitting on the sofa, +as rigid as the marble elf Puck, just over his head. Prudy and Dotty had +joined hands, and were crying softly on the rug. As the police had been +notified of Fly's loss, all the family had to do was to wait. A servant +was at the nearest telegraph office, with a horse and carriage, and at +the first tidings would drive home and report. +</p> +<p> +The words "The baby's found" rang through the house like a peal of +bells. In an instant Flyaway Runaway was clasped in everybody's arms, +and wet with everybody's tears. +</p> +<p> +"Thought I'd come back," said the little truant, peeping up at her +agitated friends' with some surprise; "thought I'd come back and get my +skipt!" +</p> +<p> +Then they exclaimed, in chorus,— +</p> +<p> +"Topknot <i>shall</i> have her skipt! The blessed baby! The darling old Fly!" +</p> +<p> +And Dotty wound up by saying,— +</p> +<p> +"Why, you see, we thought you's dead!" +</p> +<p> +Flyaway, who had at first been very much astonished at the fuss made +over her, now looked deeply offended. +</p> +<p> +"Who said I's dead? What—a—drefful—lie!" +</p> +<p> +"O, nobody said so, Fly; only we thought p'rhaps you was; and <i>what</i> +would we do without you, you know?" +</p> +<p> +"Why, if I's dead," said Fly, untying her bonnet strings, "then the +funy-yal would come round and take me; that's all." +</p> +<p> +"We are most grateful to you," said Aunt Madge, turning to Mrs. Brooks, +"for bringing home this lost child; but do tell us where you found her." +</p> +<p> +Then Mrs. Brooks related all she knew of Fly's wanderings, the little +one putting in her own explanations. +</p> +<p> +"I didn' be lost," said she sharply. "I feel jus' like frettin', when +you say I's lost. 'Tis the truly truth; I's walking on the streets, and +a naughty woman, she's got my hangerfiss—had ashes roses on it." +</p> +<p> +"Yes, I put some otto of rose on it this morning," said Prudy. "What a +shame!" +</p> +<p> +"And I gave my flowers to the sick man. He was on the bed, with a blue +bed-kilt. A girl name o' Maria, tookened me home. The seeingness is all +gone out of her eyes, so she can't see." +</p> +<p> +"How long has your husband been sick?" asked Mrs. Allen of the woman, +while she was taking lunch in the dining-room. "Did you tell me he knew +Colonel Allen?" +</p> +<p> +Mrs. Brooks dropped her knife and fork; but her lips trembled so she +could not speak. Flyaway, who sat in Horace's lap, eating ginger-snaps, +exclaimed, "She wants some perjerves, auntie. She don't get no +perjerves, nor nuffin nice to her house." +</p> +<p> +"'Sh!" whispered Horace. The woman looked so respectable and well bred, +that it seemed a great rudeness to allude to her poverty. +</p> +<p> +But Mrs. Brooks drank some water, and then answered Aunt Madge, +calmly,— +</p> +<p> +"I'm not ashamed of being poor, Mrs. Allen; it's no disgrace, for there +never was an honester man than my husband, nor none that worked harder, +till a beam fell on him from the roof of a house, two years ago, and he +lost the use of his limbs.—Yes, ma'am; he did use to know your husband. +He was one of the workmen that helped build this house. I came and +looked on when he was setting these very doors." +</p> +<p> +"What is his name?" asked Aunt Madge, looking very much interested, and +taking out her note-book and pencil. "What street and number?" +</p> +<p> +"Cyrus Brooks, Number Blank, Blank Street, ma'am. Before the accident, +we lived on Thirty-third Street, in very good shape; but, little by +little, we were obliged to sell off, and finally had to move into pretty +snug quarters. But we've always got enough to eat, such as it was," +added the good woman, trying not to show much she enjoyed her lunch. +</p> +<p> +"I am very glad Providence has sent you here, Mrs. Brooks," said Aunt +Madge, warmly. "I know Colonel Allen will seek you out when he comes +home next week; but I shall not wait for that; I shall write him this +very night." +</p> +<p> +Mrs. Brooks' heart was so full that she had to cry into a coarse purple +handkerchief of Bennie's, which happened to be in her pocket, and felt +very much ashamed because she could not find her voice again, or any +words in which to tell her gratitude. It was just as well, though. Mrs. +Allen knew words were not everything. It gave her pleasure to fill a +huge basket with nice things—wine and jelly for the sick man, plain +food for the family, and a pretty woolen dress for Maria, which had been +intended for Mrs. Fixfax, the housekeeper. +</p> +<p> +The children looked on delighted, while the basket was filled with +these articles, then passed over to Nathaniel, who was going home with +Mrs. Brooks. It was amusing to watch Nathaniel, with the monstrous +burden in his hands trying to help Mrs. Brooks down the front steps; for +Aunt Madge was not enough of a fine lady to send the pair around by the +servants' door. +</p> +<p> +It was pleasant, too, to watch Mrs. Brooks's happy face, half hidden in +the hood of her water-proof cloak, which kept puffing out, in the high +wind, like a sail. She was going home to tell her husband the Lord had +heard her prayers, and she had found a friend. +</p> +<p> +"And you may depend I never talked so easy to anybody in my life, pa;" +this was what she thought she should say. "I didn't <i>have</i> to beg. Mrs. +Allen is one of the Lord's own; I saw it the minute I clapped my eyes +on her face." +</p> +<p> +"I am going to see that woman to-morrow, and ask some questions about +her blind daughter," said Aunt Madge, turning away from the window. +</p> +<p> +"Ask 'bout her nose, too." +</p> +<p> +"Whose nose, Fly?" +</p> +<p> +"The woman's. It keeps a-moving when she talks." +</p> +<p> +"There, who else noticed that?" exclaimed Horace, tossing his young +sister aloft. "It takes Fly, with her little eye, to see things." +</p> +<p> +"But I didn't ask her nuffin 'bout it, though, Horace Clifford. God made +her so, with a wire in." +</p> +<p> +Everybody smiled at the notion of Mrs. Brooks being a wax doll. +</p> +<p> +"What a queer day it has been!" said Prudy. "Nothing but hide and seek. +We'll all keep together next time, and lock hands tight." +</p> +<p> +"Of course," said Dotty, quickly; "but look here; don't you think +'twould be safer not to let Fly go with us? She was the one that made +all the fuss." +</p> +<p> +"Want to know if she was," said Horace, slyly. "Guess there are two +sides to that story." +</p> +<p> +"At any rate," struck in Aunt Madge, "Fly was the one that did the most +business. You went round doing good—didn't you, dear?" +</p> +<p> +"Little city missionary," said Horace. +</p> +<p> +Whereupon Miss Fly modestly dropped her head on her brother's shoulder. +She concluded she had done something wonderful in running after a dog. +</p> +<p> +"On the whole," continued auntie, "we've all had a very hard time. It's +only three o'clock; but seems to me the day has been forty hours long. +Let us rest, now, and have a quiet little evening, and go to bed early." +</p> + + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="CH10"><!-- CH10 --></a> +<h2> + CHAPTER X. +</h2> + +<h3> +FIVE MAKING A CALL. +</h3><p> </p> +<p> +The next morning everybody felt fresh, and ready for new adventures. +</p> +<p> +"All going but the cat," said Fly, never doubting that her own company +was most desirable. +</p> +<p> +"Look up in my eyes, little Topknot with the blue bonnet on. Will you +run away from brother Hollis again?" +</p> +<p> +"Not if you don't take my skipt," replied Fly, looking as innocent as a +spring violet. +</p> +<p> +"And look up in <i>my</i> eyes, Horace Clifford. Will you run away from +Cousin Dotty, again?" said Miss Dimple, in a hurry to speak before Aunt +Madge came up to them, and before Horace had time for a joke. +</p> +<p> +"I didn't run away from you, young lady, but I ran <i>after</i> you, if I +remember," said Horace, dryly. "I don't mean to pursue you with my +attentions to-day. You seem to be able to take care of yourself." +</p> +<p> +"Look," cried Aunt Madge, coming up to them with Prudy; "did you ever +before see a span of horses with a dog running between them?" +</p> +<p> +"Never," said Doty; "what splendid horses! and don't the dog have to +trot, to keep up? How do you suppose he happened to get in there?" +</p> +<p> +"O, he has been trained to it; dogs often are. Now, my young friends, it +seems we have started for Brooklyn again; but on our way to Fulton +Ferry, I would like to stop and see the Brooks family. We must all go +together, though. 'United we stand, divided we fall.'" +</p> +<p> +"That's so," said Horace, as they entered the stage. "But, auntie, do +you have perfect faith in the story that woman tells? Perhaps her +hushand is only just lazy, and her daughter shams blindness. You know +what humbugs some of 'em are. I've read there's something they rub over +their eyes, that gives 'em the appearance of being as blind as a bat." +</p> +<p> +Prudy looked up at Horace with admiration and respect. He spoke like a +person of deep wisdom and wide experience. +</p> +<p> +"We will see for ourselves what we think of the family," said Aunt +Madge. +</p> +<p> +"Now," said she, after they had ridden a mile or two, "we must get out +here, and walk a few blocks to the house. Fly, hold your brother's hand +tight." +</p> +<p> +"There's the chamer where the boy lives that says swear words; and +there's the boy, ahind the window." +</p> +<p> +"Have a free ride, little girl?" shouted Izzy Paul, laughing; for he +remembered faces as well as Fly did, and saw at once that it was the +same child he had frightened so the day before. But Fly never knew fear +where Horace was; she clung to him, and peeped out boldly between her +fingers. +</p> +<p> +When they went "down cellow," as she called it, into Mr. Brooks's house, +Aunt Madge was surprised to see how bare it looked. But Dotty Dimple +need not have held her skirts so tightly about her, and brushed her +elbow so carefully when it hit against the wall; for the house was as +clean as hands could make it. +</p> +<p> +"Mrs. Brooks, I hope you will forgive me for coming down upon you with +this little army," said Mrs. Allen, with such a cheery smile that the +sick man on the bed felt as if a flood of pure sunshine had burst into +the room. He was so tired of lying there, day after day, like a great +rag baby, and so glad to see anybody, especially the good lady who, his +wife said, was "so easy to talk to!" +</p> +<p> +"Auntie, look! see the freckled doggie; and there's my flowers, true's +you live," cried Flyaway. +</p> +<p> +"Yes, pa wanted them in a vial, close to his bed; it's the first he's +seen this winter," said Maria, stroking Fly as if she had been a kitten. +</p> +<p> +"You may be sure, little lady, it will be as I said; they'll cure me +full as quick as camphire. And, thank the Lord, I can see as well as +smell," said Mr. Brooks, with a tender glance at Maria which made +Horace feel ashamed of himself. The idea of that poor child's rubbing +anything into her eyes? Why, she looked like a wounded bird that had +been out in a storm. Her face was really almost beautiful, but so sad +that you could not see it without a feeling of pity. +</p> +<p> +"She looks as if she was walking in her sleep," thought Prudy, and +turned away to hide a tear; for somehow there was a chord in her heart +that thrilled strangely. That "slow winter" came back to her with a +rush, and she was sure she knew how Maria felt. +</p> +<p> +"She is blind, and I was lame; but it is the same kind of a feeling. O, +how I wish I could help her!" +</p> +<p> +Dotty was as sorry for Maria as she knew how to be, but she could not be +as sorry as Prudy was; for she had never had any trouble greater than a +sore throat. +</p> +<p> +"I don't see why the tears don't come into my eyes as easy as they do +into Prudy's," thought she, trying to squeeze out a salt drop; "Mrs. +Brooks'll think I don't care a speck; but I do care." +</p> +<p> +As for wee Fly, she took Maria's blindness to heart about as much as she +did the murder of the Hebrew children off in Judea. +</p> +<p> +"Pitiful 'bout her seeingness; but I wished I had such a beauful dog!" +</p> +<p> +Aunt Madge was struck with the exalted expression of Maria's face. The +child was only thirteen, but suffering had made her look much older. +</p> +<p> +"My child," said she, putting her arm around the little girl, and +drawing her towards her, "I know you see a great deal with your mind, +even though your eyes are shut. Now, do tell me all about your +misfortune, and how it happened, for I came on purpose to hear." +</p> +<p> +"Yes, we camed to purpose to hear," said Fly, from the foot-board of the +bed, where she had perched and prattled every moment since she came in. +"I founded Maria, and then I went up to her, and says I, 'Doggie, +doggie!'" +</p> +<p> +"That was a pretty way to speak to her, I should think," said Dotty; +"but can't you just please to hush while auntie is talking?" +</p> +<p> +"As near as I can tell the story," said Mrs. Brooks, rattling the poor +old coal-stove,—for she always had to be moving something else, as well +as her nose, when she talked,—"she lost her sight by studying too +hard, and then getting cold in her eyes." +</p> +<p> +"She was always a master hand to study," put in Mr. Brooks. +</p> +<p> +Maria looked as if she wanted to run and hide. She did not like to have +her father praise her before people. +</p> +<p> +"Yes," said Mrs. Brooks, setting a chair straight; "and by and by the +<i>leds</i> began to draw together, and she couldn't keep 'em open; and there +was such a pain in her eyes, too, that I had to be up nights, bathing +'em in all kinds of messes." +</p> +<p> +"<i>Don't</i> her nose jiggle?" whispered Fly to Horace. +</p> +<p> +"Of course you took her to a good physician?" +</p> +<p> +"Well, yes; we thought he was good. We went to three, off and on, but +she kept growing worse and worse. It was about the time her father was +hurt, and we spent an awful sight on her, till we couldn't spend any +more." +</p> +<p> +"And it was all a cheat and a swindle," exclaimed Mr. Brooks, +indignantly. "We'd better have spent the money for a horsewhip, and +whipped them doctors with it!" +</p> +<p> +"Don't, pa, don't! You see, Mrs. Allen, he gets so excited about it he +don't know what he says." +</p> +<p> +"I wonder you did not take her to the City Hospital, Mrs. Brooks. There +she could be treated free of expense." +</p> +<p> +"The fact is, we didn't dare to," replied Mrs. Brooks, taking up an old +shoe of Bennie's, and beginning to brush it; "there are folks that have +told us it ain't safe; they try experiments on poor folks." +</p> +<p> +"O, I don't believe you need fear the City Hospital," said Mrs. Allen; +"the physicians there are honest men, and among the most skillful in +the country." +</p> +<p> +"But that's our feeling on the subject, ma'am, you see," spoke up Mr. +Brooks, so decidedly, that Aunt Madge saw it was of no use to say any +more about it. "We don't want her eyes put out; there are times when she +can just see a little glimmer, and we want to save all there is left." +</p> +<p> +"There are times when she can see? Then there must be hope, Mr. Brooks! +Let me take her to Dr. Blank; he can help her if any one can." +</p> +<p> +"Well, now, I take it you're joking, Mrs. Allen. That is the very doctor +I wanted her to see in the first place; but they do say he'd ask six +hundred dollars for looking into her eyes while you'd wink twice." +</p> +<p> +"You have been misinformed, Mr. Brooks; he never asks anything of +people who are unable to pay him. But even if he should in Maria's case, +I promise to take the matter into my own hands, and settle the bill +myself." +</p> +<p> +"Mother, do you hear what she says!" cried Mr. Brooks, forgetting +himself, and trying to sit up in bed. +</p> +<p> +But his wife had broken down, and was polishing Bennie's shoe with her +tears. +</p> +<p> +"O, will you take me? Can I go to that doctor?" cried Maria, forgetting +her timidity, and turning her sightless eyes towards Mrs. Allen with a +joyful look, which seemed to glow through the lids. +</p> +<p> +"Yes, dear child, I will take you with the greatest pleasure in life; +but remember, I don't promise you can be cured. Come with your mother, +to-morrow morning, at ten. Will that do, Mrs. Brooks? And now, good by, +all. Children, we must certainly be going." +</p> +<p> +"God bless her," murmured the sick man, as the little party passed out. +</p> +<p> +"Didn't I tell you she was an angel?" said his wife. +</p> +<p> +"No, mother; it's that little tot that's the 'angel.' The Lord sent her +on ahead to spy out the land; and afterwards there comes a +flesh-and-blood woman to see it laid straight." +</p> +<p> +"Pa thinks that baby is a spirit made out of air," said Maria, laughing +in high excitement. "And, mother, don't you really believe now the Lord +did send her, just as much as if she dropped down out of the sky?" +</p> +<p> +"Yes, I hain't a doubt of it, Maria, but what the Lord had us in his +mind when he let the child slip off and get lost.—Pa, I'm going to +give you some of that blackberry cordial now: you look all gone." +</p> + + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="CH11"><!-- CH11 --></a> +<h2> + CHAPTER XI. +</h2> + +<h3> +"THE HEN-HOUSES." +</h3><p> </p> +<p> +While the Brooks family were talking so gratefully, and Maria counting +over the cookies and cups of jelly for the twentieth time, Fly, was +holding on to Horace's thumb, saying, as she skipped along,—"I hope the +doctor'll take a knife, and pick Maria's eyes open, so she can see." +</p> +<p> +"Precious little <i>you</i> care whether she can see or not," said Dotty. "I +don't think Fly has much feeling,—do you, Prudy?—not like you and I, I +mean!" +</p> +<p> +"Pshaw! what do you expect of such a baby?" said Horace, indignantly. +"You never saw a child so full of pity as this one is, when she knows +what to be sorry for. But a great deal she understands about blindness! +And why should she?—Look here, Topknot; which would you rather do? Have +your eyes put out, and lots of candy to eat, <i>or</i>, your eyes all good, +and not a speck of candy as long as you live?" +</p> +<p> +"I'd ravver have the candy '<i>thout</i> blind-eyed?" +</p> +<p> +"But supposing you couldn't have but one?" +</p> +<p> +Fly reflected seriously for half a minute, and then answered, +</p> +<p> +"I'd ravver have the candy <i>with</i> blind-eyed!" +</p> +<p> +"There, girls, what did I tell you?" +</p> +<p> +"'Cause I could eat the candy athout looking, you know," added Fly, +shutting her eyes, and putting a sprig of cedar in her mouth, by way of +experiment. +</p> +<p> +"You little goosie," said Prudy; "when Aunt Madge was crying so about +Maria, I did think you were a hard-hearted thing to look up and laugh; +but now, I don't believe you knew any better." +</p> +<p> +"Hard-hearted things will soften," said auntie, kissing the baby's +puzzled face. "Little bits of green apples, how hard they are! but they +keep growing mellow." +</p> +<p> +"O, you little green apple," cried Dotty, pinching Fly's cheek. +</p> +<p> +"I was rather hard-hearted, if I remember, when I was an apple of that +size," continued Aunt Madge. "I could tell you of a few cruel things I +said and did." +</p> +<p> +"Tell them," said Horace; "please 'fess." +</p> +<p> +"Yes, auntie, naughty things are so interesting. Do begin and tell all +about it." +</p> +<p> +"Not on the street, dears. Some time, during the holidays, I may turn +story-teller, if you wish it; but here we are at the ferry; now look out +for the mud." +</p> +<p> +"O, what a place," cried Fly, clinging to Horace, and trying to walk on +his boots. "Just like where grampa keeps his pig!" +</p> +<p> +"How true, little sister! but you needn't use my feet for a sidewalk. +I'll take you up in my arms. It snowed in the night; but that makes it +all the muddier." +</p> +<p> +"Yes, it doesn't do snow any good to fall into New York mud," said Aunt +Madge; "it is like touching pitch." +</p> +<p> +"I thought it felt like pitch," remarked Dotty; "sticks to your boots +so." +</p> +<p> +"But, then, overhead how beautiful it is!" said Prudy. "I should think +the dirty earth would be ashamed to look up at such a clear sky." +</p> +<p> +"But the sky don't mind," returned Horace; "it always overlooks dirt." +</p> +<p> +"How very sharp we are getting!" laughed auntie; "we have begun the day +brilliantly. Any more remarks from anybody?" +</p> +<p> +"I should like to know," said Dotty, "what all those great wooden things +are made for? I never saw such big hen-houses before!" +</p> +<p> +"Hear her talk!" exclaimed auntie. "Hen-houses, indeed! Why, that is +Fulton Market. I shall take you through it when we come back. You can +buy anything in there, from a live eel to a book of poetry." +</p> +<p> +"'In mud eel is,'" quoted Horace. "Reckon I'll buy one, auntie, and +carry it home in a piece of brown paper. I believe Dotty is fond of +eels." +</p> +<p> +"Fond of eels! Why, Horace Clifford, you know I can't bear 'em, any +more'n a snake. If you do such a thing, Horace Clifford!" +</p> +<p> +Here Prudy gave her talkative sister a pinch; for they were surrounded +by people, and Aunt Madge was giving ferry-tickets to a man who stood in +a stall, and brushed them towards him into a drawer. +</p> +<p> +"Does he stay in it all night?" whispered Fly; "he can't lie down, no +more'n a hossy can." +</p> +<p> +"Here, child, don't try to get down out of my arms. I must carry you +into the boat. Do you suppose I'd trust those wee, wee feet to go flying +over East River?" +</p> +<p> +"For don't we know she has wings on her heels?" said Aunt Madge. +</p> +<p> +Fly twisted around one of her little rubbers, and looked at it. She +understood the joke, but thought it too silly to laugh at. East River +lay smiling in the sun, white with sails. +</p> +<p> +"Almost as pretty as our Casco Bay," said Dotty. "'Winona;' is that the +boat we are going in? But, Horace, you must cross to the other side, +where it says 'Gentlemen's Cabin.'" +</p> +<p> +"How kind you are to take care of me! Wish you'd take as good care of +yourself, Cousin Dimple." +</p> +<p> +And Horace walked straight into the "Ladies' Cabin." There were more men +in it, though, than women; so he had the best side of the argument. +</p> +<p> +"Horace," said Aunt Madge, as they seated themselves, "where is your +money?" +</p> +<p> +"Money? O, in the breast pocket of my coat." +</p> +<p> +"But don't you remember, my boy, I advised you to leave it at home? See +that placard, right before your eyes." +</p> +<p> +"'Beware of Pickpockets!'" read Horace. "Well, auntie, I intend to +beware." +</p> +<p> +Mrs. Allen did not like his lord-of-creation tone. It was not exactly +disrespectful. He adored his aunt, and did not mean to snub her. At the +same time he had paid no attention to her advice, and his cool, +self-possessed way of setting it one side was very irritating. If Mrs. +Allen had not been the sweetest of women, she would have enjoyed boxing +his ears. +</p> +<p> +"I wish he was two years younger, and then he would have to obey me," +thought she; "but I don't like to lay my commands on a boy of fourteen." +</p> +<p> +The truth was, Horace had a large swelling on the top of his head, known +by the name of self-esteem; and it had got bruised a little the day +before, when he was obliged to stand one side, and let his aunt manage +about finding Flyaway. +</p> +<p> +"I suppose she thinks I'm a ninny, just because I don't understand this +bothersome city; but I reckon I know a thing or two, if I don't live in +New York!" +</p> +<p> +And the foolish boy really took some satisfaction in slapping his breast +pockets, and remarking to his friends,— +</p> +<p> +"'Twould take a smart chap to get his hand in there without my knowing +it. O, Prudy, where's your wallet? And yours, Dotty? I can carry them as +well as not. There's no knowing what kind of a muss you may be getting +into before night." +</p> +<p> +Prudy gave up hers without a word, but Dotty demurred. +</p> +<p> +"I guess I've got eyes both sides my head, just the same as Horace has, +if I am a girl." +</p> +<p> +She and Cousin Horace usually agreed, but this visit had begun wrong. +</p> +<p> +"Very well, Dot; if you think 'twould be any consolation to you to have +somebody come along with a pair of scissors, and snip off your pocket, I +don't know as it's any of my business." +</p> +<p> +"See if they do," replied Dotty, clutching her pocket in her right hand. +</p> +<p> +They had been speaking in loud tones, and perhaps had been overheard; +for two men, on the same seat, began to talk of the unusual number of +robberies that had happened within a few days and to wonder "what we +were coming to next." In consequence of this, Dotty pinned up her +pocket. When they reached Brooklyn, she gave her left hand to Horace, in +stepping off the boat, and walked up Fulton Street, with her right hand +firmly grasping the skirt of her dress. +</p> +<p> +"Good for you, Dimple!" said Horace, in a low tone; "that's one way of +letting people know you've got money. Look behind you! There's been a +man following you for some time." +</p> +<p> +"Where? O, where?" cried Dotty, whirling round and round in wild alarm; +"I don't see a man anywhere near." +</p> +<p> +"And there isn't one to be seen," said Aunt Madge, laughing; "there's +nobody following you but Horace himself. He had no right to frighten you +so." +</p> +<p> +"Horace!" echoed Dotty, with infinite scorn; "I don't call <i>him</i> a man! +He's nothing but a small boy!" +</p> +<p> +"A small boy!" She had finished the business now. +</p> +<p> +"The hateful young monkey!" thought Horace. "I shouldn't care much if +she did have her pocket picked." +</p> +<p> +If he had meant a word of this, which he certainly did not, he was well +paid for it afterwards. +</p> +<p> +They went to Greenwood Cemetery, which Dotty had to confess was +handsomer than the one in Portland. Fly thought there were nice places +to "hide ahind the little white houses," which frightened her brother so +much, that he carried her in his arms every step of the way. After +strolling for some time about Greenwood, and taking a peep at Prospect +Park, they left the "city of churches," and entered a crowded car to go +back to the ferry. +</p> +<p> +"Look out for <i>our</i> money," whispered Prudy; "you know auntie says a car +is the very place to lose it in." +</p> +<p> +"Yes; I'll look out for your pile, Prue, though I dare say you don't +feel quite so easy about it as you would if Dot had it." +</p> +<p> +"Wow, Horace, don't be cross; you know it isn't often I have so much +money." +</p> +<p> +Aunt Madge here gave both the children a very expressive glance, as much +as to say,— +</p> +<p> +"Don't mention private affairs in such a crowd." +</p> +<p> +Colonel Allen said if his wife had been born deaf and dumb nobody would +have mistrusted it, for she could talk with her eyes as well as other +people with their tongues. +</p> +<p> +When they were on the New York side once more, Mrs. Allen said,— +</p> +<p> +"Now I will take you through Dotty's hen-houses. What have we here? O, +Christmas greens." +</p> +<p> +A woman stood at one of the stands, tying holly and evergreens together +into long strips, which she sold by the yard. +</p> +<p> +"We must adorn the house, children. I will buy some of this, if you will +help carry it home." +</p> +<p> +"Load me down," said Horace; "I'll take a mile of it." +</p> +<p> +"Loaden me down, too; <i>I'll</i> take it a mile," said Fly. +</p> +<p> +"Give me that beautiful cross to carry, auntie." +</p> +<p> +"Are you willing to carry crosses, Prudy? Ah, you've learned the lesson +young!" +</p> +<p> +"I like the star best," said Dotty; "why can't they make suns and moons, +too!" +</p> +<p> +"Will you have a <i>hanker</i>, my pretty miss?" said the woman, dropping a +courtesy. +</p> +<p> +"I never heard of a <i>hanker</i>; it looks some like a kettle-hook. Let's +buy it; see how nicely it fits on Fly's shoulder." +</p> +<p> +"It would look better for Fly to sit on the anchor," said Mrs. Allen, +smiling. "It is droll enough to see such a big thing walking off with a +little girl under it. Come, children, we have bought all we can carry." +</p> +<p> +"Thank you kindly, lady," said the evergreen woman, with another +courtesy. +</p> +<p> +"I don't see why she need thank you kindly, auntie," said Dotty. "You +wouldn't have bought her wreaths if you hadn't liked 'em." +</p> +<p> +They walked through a long space lined with such nice things that the +children's mouths watered—oranges, figs, grapes, pears, French +chestnuts larger than oil-nuts, and, as if that were not enough, +delicious-looking pies, cakes, cold ham, and doughnuts. On little +charcoal stoves stood coffee-pots; and there was a great clattering of +plates and cups and saucers, which men were washing in little pans, and +wiping on rather dark towels. +</p> +<p> +"It strikes me I should enjoy going into one of those cuddy-holes and +eating my dinner," said Horace. "I feel about starved." +</p> +<p> +"You have a right to be hungry. It is two o'clock. How would you like +some oysters? In here is a large room, with tables; rather more +comfortable than these 'cuddy-holes,' as you call them." +</p> +<p> +"Only not nice," said Prudy. "O, Horace, if you should go once to an +oyster saloon in Boston, you'd see the difference!" +</p> +<p> +"The probability is, I've been in Boston saloons twice to your once, +ma'am." +</p> +<p> +Which was correct. She had been once, and he twice. +</p> + + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="CH12"><!-- CH12 --></a> +<h2> + CHAPTER XII. +</h2> + +<h3> +"GRANNY." +</h3><p> </p> +<p> +Aunt Madge seated her four guests at a little table. +</p> +<p> +"Will you have oysters or scallops?" +</p> +<p> +"What are scallops?" +</p> +<p> +"They are a sort of fish; taste a little like oysters. They come out of +those small shells, such as you've seen pin-cushions made of." +</p> +<p> +The children thought they should prefer oysters; and after the stews +were ordered, Mrs. Allen went out, and soon returned with a dessert of +cake, pie, and fruit. +</p> +<p> +"I thought I would bring it all at once," said she, "just what I know +you will like; and then sit down and be comfortable. We'll lay the +wreaths under the table. There are no napkins, girls (this isn't Boston, +you know); so you'd better tuck your handkerchiefs under your chins." +</p> +<p> +"But is this the handsomest place they've got in New York, without any +carpet to it?" whispered Dotty. +</p> +<p> +"We'll see, one of these days," replied auntie, with a smile that spoke +volumes. +</p> +<p> +It was a very jolly dinner, and Mrs. Allen had to send for three plates +of scallops; for the children found, after tasting hers, that they were +very nice; all but Fly, who did not relish them, and thought it was +because she did not like to eat pin-cushions. +</p> +<p> +"Now, little folks, if you have eaten sufficiently, and are thoroughly +rested, shall we start for home? I think a journey to Brooklyn is about +enough for one day—don't you? But you musn't leave without seeing +Granny." +</p> +<p> +"Granny?" +</p> +<p> +"Yes, I call her so, and it pleases her. She has had a little table in +the market for a long while, and I like to buy some of her goodies just +to encourage her, for she has such a way of looking on the bright side +that she wins my respect. Listen, now, while I speak to her." +</p> +<p> +Auntie's old woman had on a hood and shawl, and was curled up in a +little heap, half asleep. +</p> +<p> +"Pleasant day," said Mrs. Allen, going up to the table. +</p> +<p> +"Yes, mum; nice weather <i>underful</i>," returned the old woman, rousing +herself, and rubbing an apple with her shawl. +</p> +<p> +"And how do you do, Granny?" +</p> +<p> +"Why, is that you?" said she, the sun coming out all over her face. +"And how've you been, mum, since the last time I've seen yer?" +</p> +<p> +"Very well, Granny; and how do things prosper with you?" +</p> +<p> +"O, <i>I'm</i> all right! I've had a touch of rheumaty, and this is the fust +I've stirred for two weeks." +</p> +<p> +"Sorry to hear it, Granny. Rheumatism can't be very comfortable." +</p> +<p> +"Well, no; it's bahd for the jints," said the old woman, holding up her +fingers, which were as shapeless as knobby potatoes. +</p> +<p> +"Poor Granny! How hard that is!" +</p> +<p> +"Well, they be hard, and kind o' stiff-like. But bless ye," laughed she, +"that's nothing. I wouldn't 'a' cared, only I's afeared I'd lose this +stand. There was a gyurl come and kep' it for me, what time she could +spare." +</p> +<p> +"I'm glad you havn't lost the stand, Granny; but I don't see how you can +laugh at the rheumatism." +</p> +<p> +"Well, mum, what'd be the use to cry? Why, bless ye, there's wus +things'n that! As long's I hain't got no husband, I don't feel to +complain!" +</p> +<p> +She shook her sides so heartily at this, that Fly laughed aloud. +</p> +<p> +"So you don't approve of husbands, Granny?" +</p> +<p> +"No more I don't, mum; they're troublesome craychers, so fur as I've +seen." +</p> +<p> +"But don't you get down-hearted, living all alone?" +</p> +<p> +"O, no, mum; I do suppose I'm the happiest woman in the city o' New +Yorruk. When I goes to bed, I just gives up all my thrubbles to the +Lord, and goes to sleep." +</p> +<p> +"But when you are sick, Granny?" +</p> +<p> +"O, then, sometimes I feels bahd, not to be airnin' nothin', and gets +some afeard o' the poorhouse; but, bless ye, I can't help thinking the +Lord'll keep me out." +</p> +<p> +"I'm pretty sure He will," said Aunt Madge, resolving on the spot that +the good old soul never should go to a place she dreaded so much. "Have +you any butter-scotch to-day, Granny?" +</p> +<p> +"O, yes, mum; sights of it. Help yourself. I want to tell you +something'll please you," said the old woman, bending forward, and +speaking in a low tone, and with sparkling eyes. "I've put some money in +the bank, mum; enough to bury me! <i>Ain't</i> that good!" +</p> +<p> +Prudy and Dotty were terribly shocked. She must be crazy to talk about +her own funeral. As if she was glad of it, too? But Horace thought it a +capital joke. +</p> +<p> +"That's a jolly way to use your money," whispered he to Prudy; "much +good may it do her?" And then aloud, in a patronizing tone, "I'll take a +few of your apples, Granny. How do you sell 'em?" +</p> +<p> +"These here, a penny apiece; them there, two pennies; and them, three." +</p> +<p> +Horace felt in his coat pocket for his purse; and drew out his hand +quickly, as if a bee had stung it. +</p> +<p> +"Why, what! What does this mean?" +</p> +<p> +"What is it, Horace?" +</p> +<p> +"Nothing, auntie, only my wallet's gone," replied the boy, very white +about the mouth. +</p> +<p> +"Gone? Look again. Are you sure?" +</p> +<p> +"Yes, as sure as I want to be?" +</p> +<p> +"Mine,—is mine gone too?" cried Prudy. +</p> +<p> +Horace did not seem willing to answer. +</p> +<p> +"Where did you have your purse last?" +</p> +<p> +"Just before we came out of Dorlon's oyster saloon. Just before we came +here for butter-scotch," replied Horace, glaring fiercely at Granny. +</p> +<p> +"Are you quite sure?" +</p> +<p> +"Is mine gone, too?" cried Prudy again. "Did you put mine in the same +pocket?" +</p> +<p> +"Yes, Prue; I put yours in the same pocket; and it's gone, too." +</p> +<p> +"O, Horace!" +</p> +<p> +"A pretty clean sweep, Prue." +</p> +<p> +"The <i>vilyins</i>!" cried Granny; looking, auntie thought, as if her whole +soul was stirred with pity for the children; but, as Horace thought, as +if she were trying to put a bold face on a very black crime. +</p> +<p> +"Let us go back to Dorlon's, and ask the waiters if you dropped it in +there," suggested Aunt Madge. +</p> +<p> +"Yes, but <i>I know I didn't,"</i> said Horace, with another scowl at Granny. +</p> +<p> +"<i>My</i> money is safe," said self-righteous Dotty, as they walked away; +"don't you wish you <i>had</i> given yours to me, Prudy?" +</p> +<p> +"The deceitful old witch!" muttered Horace; meaning Granny, of course. +</p> +<p> +And lo, there she stood close behind them! She was beckoning Mrs. Allen +back to her fruit-stand. +</p> +<p> +"Wait here one minute, children; I'll be right back." +</p> +<p> +"Nothin', mum," said Granny, looking very much grieved; "nothin' only I +wants to say, mum, if that youngster thinks as I took his money, I wisht +you'd sarch me." +</p> +<p> +"Fie, Granny! Never mind what a boy like that says, when he is excited. +I know you too well to think you'd steal." +</p> +<p> +"The Lord bless you, mum," cried the old woman, all smiles again. +</p> +<p> +"And, Granny, I mean to come here next week, and I'll bring you some +flannel and liniment for your rheumatism. Where shall I leave them if +you're sick, and can't be here?" +</p> +<p> +"O, thank ye, mum; thank ye kindly. The ain't many o' the likes of you, +mum. And if ye does bring the things for my rheumaty, and I ain't here, +just ye leave 'em with the gyurl at this stand, if yer will." +</p> +<p> +"Did she give it back?" cried Horace, the moment his aunt appeared. +</p> +<p> +"No, my boy; how could she when she hadn't it to give?" +</p> +<p> +"But, auntie, I'm up and down sure I felt that wallet in my +breast-pocket, when we came out of Dorlon's," persisted Horace. "I don't +see how on earth that old woman contrived it; but I can't help +remembering how she kept leaning forward when she talked; and once she +hit square against me. And just about that time I was drawing out my +handkerchief to wipe my nose." +</p> +<p> +"Yes, he did! He wiped his nose. And the woman tookened the money; I saw +her do it." +</p> +<p> +"There, I told you so!" +</p> +<p> +"You saw her, Miss Policeman Flyaway?" said Aunt Madge. "And pray how +did she take it?" +</p> +<p> +"Just so,—right in her hand." +</p> +<p> +"O, you mean the money for the butter-scotch, you little tease!" +</p> +<p> +"Yes," replied the child, with a roguish twinkle over the sensation she +had made. +</p> +<p> +"Just like little bits o' flies," said Dotty. "Don't care how folks +feel. And here's her brother ready to cry; heart all broken." +</p> +<p> +"Needn't be concerned about my heart, Dot; 'tisn't broken yet; only +cracked. But how anybody could get at my pocket, without my knowing it, +is a mystery to me, unless Granny is a witch." +</p> +<p> +"Horace, I pledge you my word Granny is innocent." +</p> +<p> +"And I'm sure nobody else could take it, auntie. The clerks at Dorlon's +had no knowledge of the money; neither had any of the apple or pie +merchants along the market. Things look darker for us, Prue; but I will +give you the credit of behaving like a lady. And one thing is sure—the +moment I get home to Indiana I shall send you back your money." +</p> +<p> +"Horace," said Aunt Madge, "I am very suspicious that you lost your +purse in one of those cars, on the Brooklyn side." +</p> +<p> +"But, auntie, I tell you there couldn't anybody get at my pockets +without my knowing it!" +</p> +<p> +"Just as Prudy told you you would, you lost it in that car," echoed +Dotty. "Don't you remember what you said, Prudy?" +</p> +<p> +"That's right; hit him again," growled Horace. +</p> +<p> +"Now, Dotty," said Prudy, suppressing a great sob in her effort to +"behave like a lady," "what's the use? Don't you suppose Horace feels +bad enough without being scolded at?" +</p> +<p> +"Auntie don't scold, nor Prudy don't, 'cause he didn't mean to lose +it," said Fly, frowning at Dotty, and caressing Horace, with her hands +full of evergreens. +</p> +<p> +"Besides, he has lost more than I have," continued Prudy. +</p> +<p> +"Well, a trifle more! Fifty times as much, say. I shouldn't care a +fig,—speaking figuratively,—only it was all I had to get home with." +</p> +<p> +"Don't fret about that," said Aunt Madge; "I'll see that you go home +with as full a purse as you brought to my house." +</p> +<p> +"O, auntie, how can I thank you? But you know father never would allow +that!" +</p> +<p> +"I could tell you how to thank me," thought Mrs. Allen, though she was +so kind she would <i>not</i> tell; "you could thank me by saying, 'Auntie, +I've been a naughty boy.'" +</p> +<p> +But Horace had no idea of making such a confession as that. "The +money'll come up," said he; "I'm one of the lucky kind. Let's see; +wouldn't it be best to advertise?" +</p> +<p> +"Thieves won't answer advertisements," said Mrs. Allen. +</p> +<p> +"But, I tell you, auntie, I dropped that wallet. I could take my oath of +it." +</p> +<p> +"Well, in such a case an advertisement is the proper thing. But, my boy, +your positiveness on this subject is extraordinary. How could you drop +the wallet? Do you keep it in the same pocket with your handkerchief?" +</p> +<p> +"On, no, auntie; right in here." +</p> +<p> +"And you haven't bought anything?" +</p> +<p> +"No, auntie; you wouldn't let me pay the car fare, or anything else. But +still I must have taken out the wallet by mistake. You see I <i>know</i> +nobody's picked my pockets." +</p> +<p> +"Why, Horace, you just said Granny picked 'em." +</p> +<p> +"No, Dot, I didn't! I only spoke of the queer way she had of leaning +forward." +</p> +<p> +"But you scowled at her sharp enough to take head off." +</p> +<p> +"If I were you, Dot, I wouldn't be any more disagreeable than I was +absolutely obliged to.—Now, auntie, how much does it cost to +advertise?" +</p> +<p> +"A dollar or so I believe." +</p> +<p> +"Well, if you'll lend me the money, I want to do it." +</p> +<p> +"To be plain with you, Horace, I really do not think it will be of the +slightest use in this case; but I will consent to it if it will be any +relief to your mind. We shall be obliged to cross the ferry again, for +the advertisement ought to go into a Brooklyn paper." +</p> +<p> +"We are tired enough to drop," said Dotty; "and all these stars and +things, too!" +</p> +<p> +"Yes, we are all tired; but we will leave you little girls at the +ferry-house on the other side." +</p> +<p> +"But, auntie," said Prudy, anxiously, "I shouldn't really dare have the +care of Fly. You know just how it is." +</p> +<p> +"Yes, I do know just how it is. Fly must walk, with her tired little +feet, to the Eagle office, with Horace and me; or else she must make a +solemn promise not to go out of the ferry-house." +</p> +<p> +"But I don't want to make a <i>solomon</i> promise, auntie; I want to see the +eagle." +</p> +<p> +Mrs. Allen sighed. She began to think she had undertaken a great task +in inviting these children to visit her. Instead of a pleasure, they had +proved, thus far, a weariness—always excepting Prudy. She, dear, +self-forgetting little girl, could not fail to be a comfort wherever she +went. +</p> + + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="CH13"><!-- CH13 --></a> +<h2> + CHAPTER XIII. +</h2> + +<h3> +THE PUMPKIN HOOD. +</h3><p> </p> +<p> +To the "Eagle" office they went—obstinate Horace, patient Annt Madge, +and between them the "blue-bottle Fly." +</p> +<p> +"I do feel right sorry, auntie," said Horace, a sudden sense of shame +coming over him; "but I'm so sure I dropped the money, you know; or I +wouldn't drag you up this hill when you're so tired." +</p> +<p> +A sharp answer rose to Mrs. Allen's lips, but she held it back. +</p> +<p> +"Only a boy! In a fair way to learn a useful lesson, too. Let me keep my +temper! If I scold, I spoil the whole." +</p> +<p> +They entered the office, and left with the editor this advertisement:— +</p> +<p> +"Lost.—Between Prospect Park and Fulton Ferry, a porte-monnaie, marked +'Horace S. Clifford,' containing thirty-five dollars. The finder will be +suitably rewarded by leaving the same at No. ——, Cor. Fifth Ave. and +—— Street." +</p> +<p> +"It is no matter about advertising Prudy's purse, it was so shabby," +said Aunt Madge; and on their way back to the ferry-house she bought her +another. +</p> +<p> +"O, thank you, auntie, darling," said Prudy; "and thank you, too, +Horace, for losing my old one; it wasn't fit to be seen. And here is a +whole dollar inside! O, Aunt Madge, <i>are</i> you an angel?" +</p> +<p> +"Prue, you deserve your good luck; you don't come down on a fellow, +hammer and tongs, because he happens to meet with an accident." +</p> +<p> +"Horace," said Dotty, meekly, "are you willing to carry my gloves?" +</p> +<p> +"Yes, to be sure; but you don't want to go home bare-handed—do you?" +</p> +<p> +"Why, I was thinking how nice 'twould be, Horace, to have you take 'em, +and lose 'em, and me have a new pair. There's a hole in the thumb." +</p> +<p> +This little sally amused everybody, and Horace had the grace not to be +sensitive, though the laugh was against him. +</p> +<p> +"Another queer day," said he, when they were at last at home again. "I +don't know what will become of us all, if we keep on like this." +</p> +<p> +The poor boy was trying his best to brave it out; but Aunt Madge could +see that his heart was sore. +</p> +<p> +"Lost every cent I'm worth," mused he, turning his coat-pocket inside +out, and scowling at it. "Got to be a beggar as long as I stay in New +York!" +</p> +<p> +The whole party were tired, and Horace's gloom seemed to fill the parlor +like a fog, and make even the gas look dim. +</p> +<p> +"I feel dreffly," said Fly, curling her head under her brother's arm, +like a chicken under its mother's wing—a way she had when she was +troubled. "I feel just zif I didn't love nobody in the world, and there +didn't nobody love me." +</p> +<p> +This brought Horace around in a minute, and called forth a pickaback +ride. +</p> +<p> +"Music! let us have music," said Aunt Madge, flying to the piano. "When +little folks grow so cold-hearted, in my house, that they don't love +anybody, it's time to warm their hearts with some happy little songs. +Come, girls!" +</p> +<p> +She played a few simple tunes, and the children all sang till the fog +of gloom had disappeared, and the gas burned brightly once more. +</p> +<p> +Half an hour afterwards, just as Fly was told she ought to be sleepy, +because her bye-low hymn had been sung,—"Sleep, little one, like a lamb +in the fold,"—and she had answered that she "couldn't be sleepy, athout +auntie would hurry quick to come in with a drink of water," there was a +strange arrival. Nathaniel, the waiting man, ushered into the parlor a +droll little old woman, dressed in a short calico gown, with gay figures +over it as large as cabbages; calf-skin shoes; and a green pumpkin hood, +with a bow on top. +</p> +<p> +"Good evening, ma'am," said Horace, rising, and offering her a chair. +She did not seem to see very well, in spite of her enormous spectacles; +for she took no notice of the chair, and remained standing in the +middle of the floor. +</p> + +<a name="image-2"><!-- Image 2 --></a> +<p class="figure"> +<img src="pumpkin.jpg" width="40%" +alt="The Pumpkin Hood."><br /> +<b>The Pumpkin Hood</b></p> + +<p> +"She stares at me so hard!" thought Horace—"that's the reason she can't +see anything else."—"Please take a chair, ma'am." +</p> +<p> +"Can't stop to sit down. Is your name Horace S. Clifford?" said the old +woman, in a very feeble voice. +</p> +<p> +Horace looked at her; she had not a tooth in her head. +</p> +<p> +"Yes, ma'am; my name is Horace Clifford," said he, respectfully. He had +great reverence for age, and could keep his mouth from twitching; but +I'm sorry to say Prudy's danced up at the corners, and Dotty's opened +and showed her back teeth The woman must have had all those clothes made +when she was young, for nobody wore such things now; but it wasn't +likely she knew that, poor soul! +</p> +<p> +"Did you go to the 'Brooklyn Eagle' office, to-day, to ad-<i>ver</i>-tise +some lost money, little boy?" +</p> +<p> +"Yes, ma'am.—Why, that advertisement can't have been printed <i>so</i> +quick!" +</p> +<p> +"No, I calculate not. Did you go in with a lady, and a leetle, oneasy, +springy kind of a leetle girl?" +</p> +<p> +"Why, that's me," put in Fly. +</p> +<p> +"Yes, ma'am—yes; were you there? What do you know about it?" +</p> +<p> +"Don't be in a hurry, little boy. I want to be safe and sure. I expect +you took notice of a young man in a bottle-green coat,—no, a +greenish-black coat,—a-sittin' down by the door." +</p> +<p> +"O, I don't know. Yes, I think I did. Was he the one? Did he find the +money?" +</p> +<p> +"Did you walk up Orange Street?" continued the old woman. "No, I mean +Cranberry Street?" +</p> +<p> +"O, <i>dear</i>, I don't know! Prudy, run, call Aunt Madge. Please tell me, +ma'am, have you got it with you? Is my name on the inside?" +</p> +<p> +"Wait till the little girl calls your aunt. Perhaps she'd be willing to +let me tell the story in my own way. I'd ruther deal with grown folks," +said the provoking old lady. +</p> +<p> +Horace's eyes flashed, but he contrived to keep his temper. +</p> +<p> +"It is my purse, ma'am, and my aunt knows nothing about it. I can tell +you just how it looks, and all there is in it." +</p> +<p> +"Perhaps you are one of the kind that can tell folks a good deal, and +thinks nobody knows things so well as yourself," returned the +disagreeable old woman, smiling and showing her toothless gums. "From +what I can learn, I should judge you talked ruther too loud about your +money; for there was a pusson heerd you in the ferry-boat, and took +pains to go in the same car afterwards, and pick your pocket." +</p> +<p> +"Pick—my—pocket?" +</p> +<p> +"Yes, your pocket. You wise, wonderful young man!" +</p> +<p> +"How? When? Where?" +</p> +<p> +"This is how," said the old woman, quick as a thought putting out her +hand, and thrusting it into Horace's breast pocket. +</p> +<p> +"O, it's auntie's rings—it's auntie's rings," cried Fly, jumping up, +and seizing the pretended old woman by her calico sleeve. +</p> +<p> +"Why, Aunt Madge, that isn't you!" +</p> +<p> +"But how'd you take out yer teeth?" said Fly; "your teeth? your teeth?" +</p> +<p> +"O, I didn't take them out, Miss Bright-eyes. I only put a little spruce +gum over them." +</p> +<p> +"Horace, I can't find auntie anywhere in this house," said Prudy, +appearing at the parlor door. "Do you suppose she's gone off and hid?" +</p> +<p> +"Yes, she's hid inside that old gown." +</p> +<p> +"What do you mean?" +</p> +<p> +"That's auntie, and her teeth's <i>in</i>," explained Fly. +</p> +<p> +"Only I wish she was an old woman, and had really brought me my money," +said Horace, in a disappointed tone. "I declare, there was one time I +thought the old nuisance was coming round to it, and going to give me +the wallet." +</p> +<p> +"What a wise, wonderful youth!" said the aged dame, in a cracked voice. +"Thinks I can give him his wallet, when he's got it himself, right close +to his heart." +</p> +<p> +Horace put his hand in his breast pocket. +</p> +<p> +Wonder of wonders! There was the wallet! And not only his, but Prudy's! +Had he been asleep all day? Or was he asleep now? +</p> +<p> +"Money safe? Not a cent gone. Hoo-rah! Hoo-ra-ah!" +</p> +<p> +And for want of a cap to throw, he threw up Fly. +</p> +<p> +"Where did it come from? Where did the old woman find it? O, no; the man +in the green-bottle coat?—O, no; there wasn't any old woman," cried the +children, hopelessly confused. "But who found the money? Did I drop it +on Cranberry Street?" "Did he drop it on Quamby Street?" "Who brought +it?" "Who bringed it?" +</p> +<p> +Aunt Madge stuffed her fingers into her ears. "They are all talking at +once; they're enough to craze a body! They forget how old I am! Came all +the way from the Eagle office, afoot and alone, with only four children +to—" +</p> +<p> +"O, auntie, don't play any more! Talk sober! Talk honest! Did Horace +have his pockets picked?" +</p> +<p> +"Yes, he did," replied Aunt Madge, speaking in her natural tones, and +throwing off the pumpkin hood; "if you want the truth, he did." +</p> +<p> +"Why Aunt Madge Allen! It does not seem possible! Who picked my +pockets?" +</p> +<p> +"Some one who heard you talking so loud about your money." +</p> +<p> +"But how could it be taken out, and I not know it?" +</p> +<p> +"Quite as easily as it could be put back, and you not know it." +</p> +<p> +"That's true, Horace Clifford! Auntie put it back, and you never knew +it." +</p> +<p> +"So she did," said Horace, looking as bewildered as if he had been +whirling around with his eyes shut; "so she did—didn't she? But that +was because I was taken by surprise, seeing her without a tooth in her +head, you know." +</p> +<p> +"You have been taken by surprise twice to-day, then," said Aunt Madge, +demurely. "It is really refreshing, Horace, to find that such a sharp +young man <i>can</i> be caught napping!" +</p> +<p> +"Well, I—I—I must have been thinking, of something else, auntie." +</p> +<p> +"So I conclude. And you must be thinking of something else still, or +you'd ask me—" +</p> +<p> +"O, yes, auntie; how did the thief happen to give it up? There, there, +you needn't say a word! I see it all in your eyes! You took the money +yourself. O, Aunt Madge!" +</p> +<p> +"Well, if that wasn't queer doings!" cried Dotty. +</p> +<p> +"Yes, it is quite contrary to my usual habits. I never robbed anybody +before. I hadn't the faintest idea I could do it without Horace's +knowledge." +</p> +<p> +"Why, auntie, I never was so astonished in my life!" said the youth, +looking greatly confused. +</p> +<p> +"I never heard of a person's being robbed that wasn't astonished," said +Aunt Madge, with a mischievous smile. "Will you be quite as sure of +yourself another time, think?" +</p> +<p> +"No, auntie, I shan't; that's a fact." +</p> +<p> +"That's my good, frank boy," said Aunt Madge, kissing his forehead. "And +he won't toss his head,—just this way,—like a young lord of creation, +when meddlesome aunties venture to give him advice." +</p> +<p> +Horace kissed Mrs. Allen's cheek rather thoughtfully, by way of reply. +</p> +<p> +"I don't see, Aunt Madge," said Prudy, "why you went back across the +river to put that piece in the paper, when you were the one that had the +money all the time." +</p> +<p> +"I did it to pacify Horace. He <i>knew</i> his pockets hadn't been pieked. +Besides I felt guilty. It was rather cruel in me—wasn't it?—to let him +suffer so long." +</p> +<p> +"Not cruel a bit; good enough for me," cried Horace, with a generous +outburst. "You're just the jolliest woman, auntie—the jolliest woman! +There you are; you look so little and sweet! But if folks think they're +going to get ahead of you, why, just let 'em try it, say I!" +</p> +<p> </p> +<p> +DEAR READERS: Horace was scarcely more astonished, when his pocket was +picked, than I am this minute, to find myself at the end of my book! I +had very much more to tell; but now it must wait till another time. +</p> +<p> +Meanwhile the Parlins and Cliffords are "climbing the dream tree." Let +us hope they are destined to meet with no more misfortunes during the +rest of their stay in New York. +</p> + +<p> </p> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Little Folks Astray +by Sophia May (Rebecca Sophia Clarke) + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LITTLE FOLKS ASTRAY *** + +***** This file should be named 11257-h.htm or 11257-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/1/2/5/11257/ + +Produced by Steven desJardins and Distributed Proofreading + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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For +example an eBook of filename 10234 would be found at: + + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/0/2/3/10234 + +or filename 24689 would be found at: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/4/6/8/24689 + +An alternative method of locating eBooks: + https://www.gutenberg.org/GUTINDEX.ALL + + + + +</pre> + +</body> +</html> + diff --git a/11257-h/angel.jpg b/11257-h/angel.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ba43023 --- /dev/null +++ b/11257-h/angel.jpg diff --git a/11257-h/pumpkin.jpg b/11257-h/pumpkin.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b9951bd --- /dev/null +++ b/11257-h/pumpkin.jpg diff --git a/11257.txt b/11257.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e8c9c35 --- /dev/null +++ b/11257.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3859 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Little Folks Astray +by Sophia May (Rebecca Sophia Clarke) + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Little Folks Astray + +Author: Sophia May (Rebecca Sophia Clarke) + +Release Date: February 24, 2004 [EBook #11257] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: US-ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LITTLE FOLKS ASTRAY *** + + + + +Produced by Steven desJardins and Distributed Proofreading + + + + + +LITTLE FOLKS ASTRAY. + +BY SOPHIE MAY + + +"To give room for wandering is it +That the world was made so wide." + +1872 + + + +TO + +MY YOUNG FRIEND, + +EMMA ADAMS. + +"JOHNNIE OPTIC." + + + + +TO PARENTS. + +Here come the Parlins and Cliffords again. They had been sent to bed and +nicely tucked in, but would not stay asleep. They "wanted to see the +company down stairs;" so they have dressed themselves, and come back to +the parlor. I trust you will pardon them, dear friends. Is it not a +common thing, in this degenerate age, for grown people to frown and +shake their heads, while little people do exactly as they please? + +Well, one thing is certain: if these children insist upon sitting up, +they shall listen to lectures on self-will and disrespect to superiors, +which will make their ears tingle. + +Moreover, they shall hear of other people, and not always of themselves. +Fly Clifford, who expects to be in the middle, will be somewhat +overwhelmed, like a fly in a cup of milk; for Grandma Read is to talk +her down with her Quaker speech, and Aunt Madge with her story of the +summer when she was a child. It is but fair that the elders should have +a voice. That they may speak words which shall come home to many little +hearts, and move them for good, is the earnest wish of + +THE AUTHOR. + + + + +CONTENTS. + + +CHAPTER + + +I. THE LETTER + +II. THE UNDERTAKING + +III. THE FROLIC + +IV. "TAKING OUR AIRS" + +V. DOTTY HAVING HER OWN WAY + +VI. DOTTY REBUKED + +VII. THE LOST FLY + +VIII. "THE FRECKLED DOG" + +IX. MARIA'S MOTHER + +X. FIVE MAKING A CALL + +XI. "THE HEN-HOUSES" + +XII. "GRANNY" + +XIII. THE PUMPKIN HOOD + + + + +LITTLE FOLKS ASTRAY. + + + +CHAPTER I. + +THE LETTER. + + +Katie Clifford sat on the floor, in the sun, feeding her white mice. She +had a tea-spoon and a cup of bread and milk in her hands. If she had +been their own mother she could not have smiled down on the little +creatures more sweetly. + +"'Cause I spect they's hungry, and that's why I'm goin' to give 'em +sumpin' to eat. Shut your moufs and open your eyes," said she, waving +the tea-spoon, and spattering the bread and milk over their backs. + +"Quee, quee," squeaked the little mice, very well pleased when a drop +happened to go into their mouths. + +"What are you doing there, Miss Topknot," said Horace: "O, I see; +catching rats." + +Flyaway frowned fearfully, and the tuft of hair atop of her head danced +like a war-plume. + +"I shouldn't think folks would call 'em names, Hollis, when they never +did a thing to you. Nothing but clean white mouses!" + +"Let's see; now I look at 'em, Topknot, they _are_ white. And what's all +this paper?" + +"Bed-kilts." + +"_In_-deed?" + +"You knew it by-fore!" + +"One, two, three; I thought the doctor gave you five. Where are they +gone?" + +"Well, there hasn't but two died; the rest'll live," said Fly, swinging +one of them around by its tail, as if it had been a tame cherry. + +Just then Grace came and stood in the parlor doorway. + +"O, fie!" said she; "what work! Ma doesn't allow that cage in the +parlor. You just carry it out, Fly Clifford." + +Miss Thistledown Flyaway looked up at her sister shyly, out of the +corners of her eyes. Grace was now a beautiful young lady of sixteen, +and almost as tall as her mother. Flyaway adored her, but there was a +growing doubt in her mind whether sister Grace had a right to use the +tone of command. + +"'Cause I spect she isn't my mamma." + +"Why, Fly, you haven't started yet!" + +"I didn't think 'twas best," responded the child, sulkily, fixing her +eyes on the mice, who were dancing whirligigs round the wheel. + +"Come here to your best friend, little Topknot," said Horace. "Let's +take that cage into the green-house, and ask papa to keep it there, +because the mice look like water-lilies on long stems." + +Flyaway brightened at once. She knew water-lilies were lovely. Giving +Grace a triumphant glance, she danced across the room, and put the cage +in Horace's hands, with a smile of trusting love that thrilled his +heart. + +"Hollis laughs at my mouses, but he don't say, 'Put 'em away,' and, +'_Put_ 'em away;' he says, 'Little gee-urls wants to see things as much +as anybody else,'" thought she, gratefully. + +"Horace," said Grace, with a curling lip, "that child is growing up +just like you--fond of worms, and bugs, and all such disgusting things." + +Horace smiled. No matter for the scorn in Grace's tone; it pleased him +to be compared in any way with his precious little Flyaway. + +"Topknot has a spark of sense," said he, leading her along to the +green-house. "I'll bring her up not to scream at a spider." + +"Now, young lady," said he, setting the cage on the shelf beside a +camellia, and speaking in a low voice, though they were quite alone, +"_can_ you keep a secret?" + +"Course I can; What _is_ a _secrid_?" + +"Why, it's something you musn't ever tell, Topknot, not to anybody that +lives." + +"Then I won't, _cerdily_,--not to mamma, nor papa, nor Gracie." + +"Nor anybody else?" + +"No; course not. _Whobody_ else could I? O, 'cept Phibby. There, now, +what's the name of it." + +"The name of it is--a secret, and the secret is this--Sure you won't +tell any single body, Topknot?" + +"No; I said, _whobody_ could I tell? O, 'cept Tinka! There now!" + +"Well, the secret is this," said Horace, laying his forefingers +together, and speaking very slowly, in order to prolong the immense +delight he felt in watching the little one's eager face. "You know +you've got an aunt Madge?" + +"Yes; so've you, too." + +"And she lives in the city of New York." + +"Does she? When'd she go?" + +"Why, she has always lived there; ever since she was married." + +"O, yes; and uncle Gustus was married, too; they was both married. Is +that all?" + +"And she thinks you and I are 'cute chicks, and wants us to go and see +her." + +"Well, course she does; I knew that before," said Fly, turning away with +indifference; "I did go with mamma." + +"O, but she means now, Topknot; this very Christmas. She said it in a +letter." + +"Does she truly?" said Fly, beginning to look pleased. "But it can't be +a _secrid_, though," added she, next moment, sadly, "'cause we can't go, +Hollis." + +"But I really think we shall go, Topknot; that is, if you don't spoil +the whole by telling." + +"O, I cerdily won't tell!" said Fly, fluttering all over with a sense of +importance, like a kitten with its first mouse. + +The breakfast bell rang; and, with many a word of warning, Horace led +his little sister into the dining-room. + +"Papa," said she, the moment she was established in her high chair, "I +know sumpin'." + +"O, Topknot!" cried Horace. + +"I know Hollis has got his elbows on the table. There, now, _did_ I +tell?" + +"Hu--sh, Topknot!" + +There was a quiet moment while Mr. Clifford said grace. + +"Hollis," whispered Katie immediately afterwards, "will I take my +mouses?" + +"'Sh, Topknot!" + +"What's going on there between you and Horace?" laughed Grace. + +"A _secrid_," said Fly, nipping her little lips together. "You won't get +me to tell." + +"Horace," exclaimed Mrs. Clifford, "you haven't--" + +"Why, mother, I thought it was all settled, and wouldn't do any harm; +and it pleases her so!" + +"Well, my son, you've made a hard day's work for me," said Mrs. +Clifford, smiling behind her coffee-cup, as eager little Katie swayed +back and forth in her high chair. + +"You won't get me to tell, Gracie Clifford. She don't want nobody but +Hollis and me; she thinks we're very 'cute." + +"Who? O, Aunt Louise, probably." + +"No, aunt Louise never! It's the auntie that lives to New York." + +"Sh, Topknot!" + +"Well, I didn't tell, Hollis Clifford!" + +"So you didn't," said Grace. "But wouldn't it be nice if somebody should +ask you to go somewhere to spend Christmas?" + +"Well, _there is_!" + +"O, Topknot," cried Horace, in mock distress, "you said you could keep +a secret." + +Flyaway looked frightened. + +"What'd I do?" cried she; "I didn't tell nuffin 'bout the letter!" + +This last speech set everybody to laughing; and the little tell-tale +looked around from one to another with a face full of innocent wonder. +They couldn't be laughing at _her_! + +"I can keep secrids," said she, with dignity. "It was what I was +a-doin'." + +"It is your brother Horace who cannot be trusted to keep secrets," said +Mrs. Clifford, taking a letter from her pocket. "Hear, now, what your +Aunt Madge has written: 'Will you lend me your children for the +holidays, Maria? I want all three; at any rate, two.'" + +"That's me," cried Flyaway, tipping over her white coffee; "'_tenny +rate two_,' means me." + +"Don't interrupt me, dear. 'Brother Edward has promised me Prudy and +Dotty Dimple. They may have a Santa Claus, or whatever they like. I +shall devote myself to making them happy, and I am sure there are plenty +of things in New York to amuse them. Horace must come without fail; for +the little girl-cousins always depend so much upon him.'" + +A smile rose to Horace's mouth; but he rubbed it off with his napkin. It +was his boast that he was above being flattered. + +"But why not have Grace go, too, to keep them steady?" said Mr. +Clifford, bluntly. + +Horace applied himself to his buckwheat cakes in silence, and looked +rather gloomy. + +"Why, I suppose, Henry, it would hardly be safe to send Grace, on +account of her cough." + +"I'm so sorry you asked Dr. De Bruler a word about it, mamma; but I +suppose I must submit," said Grace, with a face as cloudy as Horace's. + +"Horace, my son, do you really feel equal to the task of taking this +tuft of feathers to New York?" + +"I don't know why not, father; I'm willing to try." + +"Horace has good courage," said Grace, shaking her auburn curls like so +many exclamation points. "I never could! I never would! I'd as soon have +the care of a flying squirrel!" + +"Hollis never called me a _squirl_," said Fly, demurely. "I've got two +brothers, and one of 'em is an angel, and the other isn't; but Hollis +is _'most_ as good as the one up in the sky." + +"Well, my son," remarked Mr. Clifford, after a pause, "if your mother +gives her consent, I suppose I shall give mine; but it does not look +clear to me yet. One thing is certain, Horace; if you do undertake this +journey, you must live on the watch: you must sleep with both eyes open. +Don't trust the child out of your sight--not for a moment. Don't even +let go her hand on the street." + +"I do believe Horace will be as careful as either you or I, Henry, or I +certainly wouldn't trust him with our last little darling," said Mrs. +Clifford. + +His mother's words dropped like balm upon Horace's wounded spirit. He +looked up, and felt himself a man again. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +THE UNDERTAKING. + + +When Flyaway knew she was going to New York, it was about as easy to fit +her dresses as to clothe a buzzing blue-bottle fly. With spinning head +and dancing feet, she was set down, at last, in the cars. + +"Here we are, all by ourselves, darling, starting off for Gotham. Wave +your handkerchief to mamma. Don't you see her kissing her hand? There, +you needn't spring out of the window! And I declare, Brown-brimmer, if +you haven't thrown away your handkerchief! Here, cry into mine!" + +"I didn't want to cry, Hollis; I wanted to laugh," said the child, +wiping her eyes with her doll's cloak. "When you ride in carriages, you +don't get anywhere; but when you ride in the cars, you get there right +off." + +"Yes; that's so, my dear. You are in the right of it, as you always are. +Now I am going to turn the seat over, and sit where I can look at +you--just so." + +"O, that's just as splendid, Hollis! Now there's only me and Flipperty. +There, I put her 'pellent cloak on wrong; but see, now, I've +un-_wrong-side-outed_ it! Don't she sit up like a lady?" + +Her name was Flipperty Flop. She was a large jointed doll (not a doll +with large joints,) had seen a great deal of the world, and didn't think +much of it. She came of a high family, and had such blue blood in her +veins, that the ground wasn't good enough for her to walk on. She wore +a "'pellent cloak" and rubber boots, and had a shopping-bag on her arm +full of "choclid" cakes. She was nearly as large as her mother, and all +of two years older. A great deal had happened to her before her mother +was born, and a great deal more since. Sometimes it was dropsy, and she +had to be tapped, when pints of sawdust would run out. Sometimes it was +consumption, and she wasted to such a skeleton that she had to be +revived with cotton. She had lost her head more than once, but it never +affected her brains: she was all the better with a young head now and +then on her old shoulders. Her present ailment appeared to be small-pox; +she was badly pitted with pins and a penknife. "I declare I forgot to +get a ticket for her," said Horace. "What if the conductor shouldn't +let her pass?" + +"O, Hollis, but he must?" cried Fly, springing to her feet; "_I_ shan't +pass athout my Flipperty! Tell the 'ductor 'bout my white mouses died, +and I can't go athout sumpin to carry." + +"Pshaw! Dotty Dimple don't carry dolls. She don't like 'em: sensible +girls never do." + +"Well, _I_ like 'em," said Flyaway, nothing daunted. "You knew it +byfore; 'n if you didn't want Flipperty, you'd ought to not come!" + +Horace laughed, as he always did when his little sister tried her power +over him. The conductor was an old acquaintance, and he told him how it +stood with Flipperty, how she was needed at New York, and all that; +whereupon Mr. Van Dusen gave Fly a little green card, and told her to +keep it to show to all the conductors on the road; for it was a free +pass, and would take Flipperty all over the United States. + +"Yes, sir, if you please," said Fly, with a blush and a smile, and put +the "free pass" in Miss Flop's cloak pocket. + +After this, she never once failed to show it, whenever Mr. Van Dusen, or +any other conductor, came near, but always had to hunt for it, and once +brought up a cookie instead, which fearful mistake mortified her to the +depths of her soul. + +Horace was sure all eyes were fixed on his charming little charge, and +was proud of the honor of showing her off; but he paid for it dearly; it +cost him more than his Latin, with all the irregular verbs. There was no +such thing as her being comfortable. She was full of care about him, +herself, and the baggage. Flipperty lost off a rubber boot, which +bounced over into the next seat. Horace had to ask a gentleman and his +sick daughter to move, and, after all, it was in an old lady's lap. + +Then Fly's feet were cold, and Horace took her to the stove; but that +made her eyes too hot, and she danced back, to lie with her head on his +breast and her feet against the window, till she suddenly whirled +straight about, and planted her tiny boots under his chin. + +"O, Topknot, Topknot, I pity that woman with the baby, if she feels as +lame all over as I do!" + +"Where's the baby, Hollis? O, I see." + +"What's the matter, now? Why upon earth can't you sit still, child?" +said Horace, next minute, catching her as she was darting into the +aisle, dragging Miss Flop by the hair of the head. + +"O, Hollis, don't you see there's a dolly over there, with two girls and +a lady with red clo'es on? 'Haps they'd be willing for her to get +'quainted with Flipperty?" + +"Well, Topknot, 'haps they would, but 'haps I wouldn't. I can't have you +dancing all over the car, in this style." + +Flyaways's lip quivered, and a tear started. Horace was moved. One of +Fly's tears weighed a pound with him, even when it only wet her +eyelashes, and wasn't heavy enough to drop. + +"Well, there, darling, you just sit still,--not still enough, though, to +give you a pain (Fly always said it gave her a pain to sit still),--and +I'll bring the girls and dollie over here to you. Will that do?" + +Fly thought it would. + +A dreadful fit of bashfulness came over Horace, when he stood face to +face with the black-eyed lady and her daughters, and tried to speak. + +"I've got a little girl travelling with me, ma'am; she's so--so uneasy, +that I don't know what to do with her. Will you let me take--I mean, are +you willing--" + +"Bring her over here, and we will try to amuse her," said the black-eyed +lady, pleasantly; but Horace was sure he saw the oldest girl laughing at +him. + +"It's no fun to go and make a fool of yourself," thought he, leading Fly +to the new acquaintances, and standing by as she settled herself shyly +in the seat. + +"How do you do, little one? What is your name?--_Flyaway_?--Well, you +look like it. We saw you were a darling, clear across the aisle. And you +have a kind brother, I know." + +At these words Fly, for want of some answer to make, sprang forward and +kissed Horace on the bridge of the nose. + +"There, you've knocked off my cap." + +In stooping to pick it up, he awkwardly hit his head against the older +girl, who already looked so mischievous that he was rather afraid of +her. + +"Wish I could get out of the way. She expects me to speak, but I shan't. + + "'Needles and pins, needles and pins, + When a man travels his trouble begins.'" + +Horace was obliged to stand, very ill at ease, till the black-eyed lady +had found out where he lived, who his father was, and what was his +mother's name before she was married. + +"Tell your father, when you go home, you have seen Mrs. Bonnycastle, +formerly Ann Jones, and give him my regards. I knew he married a lady +from Maine." + +"I know sumpin," struck in Fly; "if ever _I_ marry anybody, I'll marry +my own brother Hollis. I mean if I don't be a ole maid!" + +"And what is 'a ole maid,' you little witch?" + +"I don' know; some folks is," was the wise reply. Flyaway was about to +add "Gampa Clifford," but did not feel well enough acquainted to talk of +family matters. + +When the Bonnycastles left, at Cleveland, Horace thought that was the +last of them. Miss Gerty was "decent-looking, looked some like Cassy +Hallock; but he couldn't bear to see folks giggle; hoped he never should +set eyes on those people again." Whether he ever did, you shall hear one +of these days. + +"O, Topknot," said he, "your hair looks like a mop. Do you want all +creation laughing at you? You'll mortify me to death." + +"You ought to water it. If you don't take better care o' your little +sister, I won't never ride with you no more, Hollis Clifford!" + +"Well, see that you don't, you little scarecrow," said the suffering +boy, out of all patience. "If you are going to act in New York as you +have on the road, I wish I was well out of this scrape." + +Flyaway was really a sight to behold. How she managed to tear her dress +off the waist, and loose five boot buttons, and last, but not least, the +very hat she wore on her head, _would_ have been a mystery if you hadn't +seen her run. + +When they reached the city, Horace put the soft, flying locks in as +good order as he could, and tied them up in his handkerchief. + +"I wisht I hadn't come," whined Fly; "I don't want to wear a hangerfiss; +'tisn't speckerble!" + +"Hush right up! I'm not going to have you get cold!--My sorrows! Shan't +I be thankful when I get where there's a woman to take care of her?" + +On the platform at the depot, aunt Madge, Prudy, and Dotty Dimple, were +waiting for them. A hearty laugh went the rounds, which Fly thought was +decidedly silly. Aunt Madge took the young travellers right into her +arms, and hugged them in her own cordial style, as if her heart had been +hungry for them for many a day. + +"We're so glad!--for it did seem as if you'd never come," exclaimed +Dotty Dimple. + +"And I'd like to know," said Horace, "how you happened to get here +first." + +"O, we came by express--came yesterday." + +"By 'spress?" cried Flyaway, pulling away from aunt Madge, who was +trying to pin her frock together; "_we_ came by a 'ductor.--Why, where's +Flipperty's ticket?" + +Horace seized Prudy with one hand, and Dotty Dimple with the other, +turning them round and round. + +"I don't see anything of the express mark, 'Handle with care.' What has +become of it?" + +"O, we were done up in brown paper," said Prudy, laughing, "and the +express mark was on that; but aunt Madge took it off as soon as she got +the packages home." + +"Why, what a story, Prudy Parlin! We didn't have a speck of brown paper +round us. Just cloaks and hats with feathers in!" + +Dotty spoke with some irritation. She had all along been rather +sensitive about being sent by express, and could not bear any allusion +to the subject. + +"There, that's Miss Dimple herself. Let me shake hands with your +Dimpleship! Didn't come to New York to take a joke,--did you?" + +"No, her Dimpleship came to New York to get warm," said Peacemaker +Prudy; "and so did I, too. You don't know how cold it is in Maine." + +By this time they were rattling over the stones in their aunt's elegant +carriage. It was dusk; the lamps were lighted, the streets crowded with +people, the shops blazing with gay colors. + +"I didn't come here to get warm, either," said Dotty, determined to +have the last word: "I was warm enough in Portland. I s'pose we've got a +furnace,--haven't we?--and a coal grate, too." + +"I do hope Horace hasnt't got her started in a contrary fit," thought +Prudy; "I brought her all the way from home without her saying a cross +word." + +But aunt Madge had a witch's broom, to sweep cobwebs out of the sky. +Putting her arm around Dotty, she said,-- + +"You all came to bring sunshine into my house; bless your happy hearts." + +That cleared Dotty's sky, and she put up her lips for a kiss; while +Flyaway, with her "hangerfiss" on, danced about the carriage like a fly +in a bottle, kissing everybody, and Horace twice over. + +"'Cause I spect we've got there. But, Hollis," said she, with the +comical shade of care which so often flitted across her little face, +"you never put the trunk in here. Now that 'ductor has gone and carried +off my nightie." + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +THE FROLIC. + + +If Aunt Madge had dressed in linsey woolsey, with a checked apron on, +she would still have been lovely. A white rose is lovely even in a +cracked tea-cup. But Colonel Augustus Allen was a rich man, and his wife +could afford to dress elegantly. Horace followed her to-night with +admiring eyes. + +"They say she isn't as handsome as Aunt Louise, but I know better; you +needn't tell me! Her eyes have got the real good twinkle, and that's +enough said." + +Horace was like most boys; he mistook loveliness for beauty. Mrs. +Allen's small figure, gentle gray eyes, and fair curls made her seem +almost insignificant beside the splendid Louise; but Horace knew better; +you needn't tell _him_! + +"Horace," said Aunt Madge, "your Uncle Augustus is gone, and that is one +reason, you know, why I begged for company during the holidays. You will +be the only gentleman in the house, and we ladies herewith put ourselves +under your protection. Will you accept the charge?" + +"He needn't _pertect_ ME," spoke up Miss Dimple, from the depths of an +easy-chair; "I can pertect myself." + +"Don't mind going to the Museum alone, I suppose, and crossing ferries, +and riding in the Park, and being out after dark?" + +"No; I'm not afraid of things," replied the strong-minded young lady; +"ask Prudy if I am. And my father lets me go in the horse-cars all over +Portland. That's since I travelled out west." + +Here the bell sounded, and the only gentleman of the house gave his arm +to Mrs. Allen, to lead her out to what he supposed was supper, though he +soon found it went by the name of dinner. Neither he nor his young +cousins were accustomed to seeing so much silver and so many servants; +but they tried to appear as unconcerned as if it were an every-day +affair. Dotty afterwards said to Prudy and Horace, "I was 'stonished +when that man came to the back of my chair with the butter; but I said, +'_If_ you please, sir,' just as if I 'spected it. _He_ don't know but my +father's rich." + +After dinner Fly's eyes drew together, and Prudy said,-- + +"O, darling, you don't know what's going to happen. Auntie said you +might sleep with Dotty and me to-night, right in the middle." + +"O, dear!" drawled Flyaway; "when there's two abed, I sleep; but when +there's three abed, I open out my eyes, and can't." + +"So you don't like to sleep with your cousins," said Dotty, "your dear +cousins, that came all the way from Portland to see you." + +"Yes, I do," said Fly, quickly; "my eyes'll open out; but that's no +matter, 'cause I don't want to go to sleep; I'd ravver not." + +They went up stairs, into a beautiful room, which aunt Madge had +arranged for them with two beds, to suit a whim of Dotty's. + +"Now isn't this just splendid?" said Miss Dimple; "the carpet so soft +your boots go in like feathers; and then such pictures! Look, Fly! here +are two little girls out in a snow-storm, with an umbrella over 'em. +Aren't you glad it isn't you? And here are some squirrels, just as +natural as if they were eating grandpa's oilnuts. And see that pretty +lady with the kid, or the dog. Any way she is kissing him; and it was +all she had left out of the whole family, and she wanted to kiss +somebody." + +"Yes," said aunt Madge. + + "'Her sole companion in a dearth + Of love upon a hopeless earth.' + +"If that makes you look so sober, children, I'm going to take it down. +Here, on this bracket, is the head of our blessed Saviour." + +"O, I'm glad," said Fly. "He'll be right there, a-looking on, when we +say our prayers." + +"Hear that creature talk!" whispered Dotty. + +"And these things a-shinin' down over the bed: who's these?" said +Flyaway, dancing about the room, with "opened-out" eyes. + +"Don't you know? That's Christ blessing little children," said Dotty, +gently. "I always know Him by the rainbow round His head." + +"Aureole," corrected Aunt Madge. + +"But wasn't it just _like_ a rainbow--red, blue and green?" + +"O, no; our Saviour did not really have any such crown of light, Dotty. +He looked just like other men, only purer and holier. Artists have tried +in vain to make his expression heavenly enough; so they paint him with +an aureole." + +Prudy said nothing; but as she looked at the picture, a happy feeling +came over her. She remembered how Christ "called little children like +lambs to his fold," and it seemed as if He was very near to-night, and +the room was full of peace. Aunt Madge had done well to place such +paintings before her young guests; good pictures bring good thoughts. + +"All, everywhere, it's so spl-endid!" said Fly; "what's that thing with +a glass house over it!" + +"A clock." + +"What a funny clock! It looks like a little dog wagging its tail." + +"That's the _penderlum_," explained Dotty; "it beats the time. Every +clock has a penderlum. Generally hangs down before though, and this +hangs behind. I declare, Prudy, it does look like a dog wagging its +tail." + +"Hark! it strikes eight," said Aunt Madge. "Time little girls were in +bed, getting rested for a happy day to-morrow." + +"I don't spect that thing knows what time it is," said Fly, gazing at +the clock doubtfully, "and my eyes are all opened out; but if you want +me to, auntie, I will!" + +So Flyaway slipped off her clothes in a twinkling. + +"We're going to lie, all three, in this big bed, Fly, just for one +night," said Dotty; "and after that we must take turns which shall sleep +with you. There, child, you're all undressed, and I haven't got my boots +off yet. You're quicker'n a chain o' lightning, and always was." + +"Why, how did that kitty get in here?" said auntie, as a loud mewing +was heard. "I certainly shut her out before we came up stairs." + +Dotty ran round the room, with one boot on, and Prudy in her stockings, +helping their aunt in the search. The kitten was not under the bed, or +in either of the closets, or inside the curtains. + +"Look ahind the _pendlum_," said Fly, laughing and skipping about in +high glee; "look ahind the pendlum; look atween the pillow-case." + +Still the mewing went on. + +"O, here is the kitty--I've found her," said auntie, suddenly seizing +Fly by the shoulders, and stopping her mocking-bird mouth. "Poor pussy, +she has turned white--white all over!" + +"You don't mean to say that was Fly Clifford?" cried Prudy. + +"Shut her up, auntie," said Dotty Dimple; "she's a kitty. I always knew +her name was Kitty." + +Fly ran and courtesied before the mirror in her nightie. + +"O, Kitty Clifford, Kitty Clifford," she cried, "when'll you be a cat?" + +"Pretty soon, if you can catch mice as well as you can mew," laughed +auntie; "but look you, my dear; are you going to bed to-night? or shall +I shut you down cellar?" + +"Don't shut me down _cellow_, auntie," cried the mocking-bird, crowing +like a chicken; "shut me in the barn with the banties." + +Next moment it occurred to the child that this style of behavior was not +very "speckerful;" so she hastily dropped on her knees before her +auntie, and began to say her prayers. The change was so sudden, from +the shrill crow of a chicken to the gentle voice of a little girl +praying, that no one could keep a sober face. Prudy ran into the closet, +and Dotty laughed into her handkerchief. + +"There, now, that's done," said Flyaway, jumping up as suddenly as she +had knelt down. "Now I must pray Flipperty." + +And before any one could think what the child meant to do, she had +dragged out her dolly, and knelt it on the rug, face downward, over her +own lap. + +"O, the wicked creature!" whispered Dotty. But Aunt Madge said nothing. + +"Pray," said the little one, in a tone of command. Then, in a fine, +squeaking voice, Fly repeated a prayer. It was intended to be +Flipperty's voice, and Flipperty was too young to talk plain. + +"There, that will do," said Aunt Madge, her large gray eyes trying not +to twinkle; "did she ever say her prayers before?" + +"Yes, um; she's a goody girl--when I 'member to pray her!" + +"Well, dear, I wouldn't 'pray her' any more. It makes us laugh to see +such a droll sight, and nobody wishes to laugh when you are talking to +your Father in heaven." + +"No'm," replied Flyaway, winking her eyes solemnly. + +But when the "three abed" had been tucked in and kissed, Fly called her +auntie back to ask, "How can Flipperty grow up a goody girl _athout_ she +says her prayers?" + +There was such a mixture of play and earnestness in the child's eyes, +that auntie had to turn away her face before she could answer seriously. + +"Why, little girls can think and feel you know; but with dollies it is +different. Now, good night, pet; you won't have beautiful dreams, if you +talk any more." + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +"TAKING OUR AIRS." + + +Flyaway awoke singing, and sprang up in bed, saying,-- + +"Why, I thought I's a car, and that's why I whissiled." + +"But you are not a car," yawned Prudy; "please don't sing again, or +dance, either." + +"It's the _happerness_ in me, Prudy; and that's what dances; it's the +happerness." + +"That's the worst part of Fly Clifford," groaned Dotty; "she won't keep +still in the morning. Might have known there wouldn't be any peace after +she got here." + +Dotty always came out of sleep by slow stages, and her affections were +the last part of her to wake up. Just now she did not love Katie +Clifford one bit, nor her own mother either. + +"Won't you light the lamp?" piped Flyaway. + +"Please don't, Fly," said Prudy; "don't talk!" + +"Won't you light the la-amp?" + +"No, we will not," said Dotty, firmly. + +"Won't you light the la-amp?" + +"Is this what we came to New York for?" moaned Dotty; "to be waked up in +the middle of the night by folks singing?" + +"Won't you light the la-amp?" + +"I'll pack my dresses, and go right home! I'll--I'll have Fly Clifford +sleep out o' this room. Why, I--I--" + +"Won't you light the la-amp?" + +Prudy sprang out of bed, convulsed with laughter, and lighted the gas; +whereupon Fly began to dance "Little Zephyrs," on the pillow, and Dotty +to declare her eyes were put out. + +"Little try-patiences, both of them," thought Prudy; "but then they've +always had their own way, and what can you expect? I'm so glad I wasn't +born the youngest of the family; it does make children _so_ +disagreeable!" + +As soon as Dotty was fairly awake, her love for her friends came back +again, and her good humor with it. She made Fly bleat like a lamb and +spin like a top, and applauded her loudly. + +"It's gl-orious to have you here, Fly Clifford. I wouldn't let you go in +any other room to sleep for anything." + +Which shows that the same thing looked very different to Dotty after she +got her eyes open. + +When the children went down to breakfast, they found bouquets of +flowers by their plates. + +"I am delighted to see such happy faces." said Aunt Madge. "How would +you all like to go out by and by, and take the air?" + +"We'd like it, auntie; and I'll tell you what would be prime," remarked +Horace, from his uncle's place at the head of the table; "and that is, +to take Fly to Stewart's, and have her go up in an elevator." + +"Why couldn't I go up, too?" asked Dotty, with the slightest possible +shade of discontent in her voice. She did not mean to be jealous, but +she had noticed that Flyaway always came first with Horace, and if there +was anything hard for Dotty's patience, it was playing the part of +Number Two. + +"We'll all go up," said Aunt Madge. "I've an idea of taking you over +to Brooklyn; and in that case we shan't come home before night." + +"Carry our dinner in a basket?" suggested Dotty. + +"O, no; we'll go into a restaurant, somewhere, and order whatever you +like." + +"Will you, auntie? Well, there, I never went to such a place in my life, +only once; and then Percy Eastman, he just cried 'Fire!' and I broke the +saucer all to pieces." + +"I've been to it a great many times," said Fly, catching part of Dotty's +meaning; "my mamma bakes 'em in a freezer." + +At nine o'clock the party of five started out to see New York. Aunt +Madge and Horace walked first, with Flyaway between them. "We are going +out to take our _airs_," said the little one. + +"I don't think you need any more," said Horace, looking fondly at his +pretty sister. "You're so airy now, it's as much as we can do to keep +your feet on the ground." + +Flyaway wore a blue silk bonnet, with white lace around the face, a blue +dress and cloak, and pretty furs with a squirrel's head on the muff. She +had never been dressed so well before, and she knew it. She remembered +hearing "Phibby" say to "Tinka," "Don't that child look like an angel?" +Fly was sure she did, for big folks like Tinka must know. But here her +thoughts grew misty. All the angels she had ever heard of were brother +Harry and "the Charlie boy." How could she look like them? + +"Does God dress 'em in a cloak and bonnet, you s'pose?" asked she of her +own thoughts. + +Prudy and Dotty Dimple wore frocks of black and red plaid, white +cloaks, and black hats with scarlet feathers. Horace was satisfied that +a finer group of children could not be found in the city. + +"Aunt Madge and I have no reason to be ashamed of them, I am sure," +thought he, taking out his new watch every few minutes, not because he +wished to show it, but for fear it was losing time. + +"How I wish we had Grace and Susey here! and then I should have all my +nieces," said Aunt Madge. "Is it possible these are the same children I +used to see at Willowbrook? Here is my only nephew, that drowned Prudy +on a log, grown tall enough to offer me his arm. (Why, Horace, your head +is higher than mine!) Here is Prudy, who tried yesterday--didn't +she?--to go up to heaven on a ladder, almost a young lady. Why, how old +it makes me feel!" + +"But you don't look old," said Dotty, consolingly; "you don't look +married any more than Aunt Louise?" + +Here they took an omnibus, and the children interested themselves in +watching the different people who sat near them. + +"Aren't you glad to come?" said Dotty. "See that man getting out. What +is that little thing he's switching himself with?" + +"That's a cane," replied Horace. + +"A cane? Why, if Flyaway should lean on it, she'd break it in +two.--Prudy, look at that man in the corner; _his_ cane is funnier than +the other one." + +Horace laughed. + +"That is a pipe, Dotty--a meerschaum." + +"Well, I don't see much difference," said Miss Dimple; "New York is the +queerest place. Such long pipes, and such short canes!" + +Fly was too happy to talk, and sat looking out of the window until an +elegantly-dressed lady entered the stage, who attracted everybody's +attention; and then Flyaway started up, and stood on her tiptoes. The +lady's face was painted so brightly that even a child could not help +noticing it. It was haggard and wrinkled, all but the cheeks, and those +bloomed out like a red, red rose. Flyaway had never seen such a sight +before, and thought if the lady only knew how she looked, she would go +right home and wash her face. + +"What a chee-arming little girl!" said the painted woman, crowding in +between Aunt Madge and Flyaway, and patting the child's shoulder with +her ungloved hand, which was fairly ablaze with jewels; "bee-youtiful!" + +Flyaway turned quickly around to Aunt Madge, and said, in one of her +very loud whispers, "What's the matter with her? She's got sumpin on her +face." + +"Hush," whispered Aunt Madge, pinching the child's hand. + +"But there is," spoke up Flyaway, very loud in her earnestness; "O, +there is sumpin on her face--sumpin red." + +There was "sumpin" now on all the other faces in the omnibus, and it was +a smile. The lady must have blushed away down under the paint. She +looked at her jewelled fingers, tossed her head proudly, and very soon +left the stage. + +"Topknot, how could you be so rude?" said Horace, severely; "little +girls should be seen, and not heard." + +"But she speaked to me first," said Flyaway. "I wasn't goin' to say +nuffin, and then she speaked." + +A young gentleman and lady opposite seemed very much amused. + +"I'm afraid of your bright eyes, little dear. I'll give you some candy +if you won't tell me how I look," said the young lady, showering +sweetmeats into Flyaway's lap. + +"Why, I wasn't goin' to tell her how she looked," whispered Fly, very +much surprised, and trying to nestle out of sight behind Horace's +shoulder. + +When they left the omnibus, the children had a discussion about the +painted lady, and could not decide whether they were glad or sorry that +Fly had spoken out so plainly. + +"Good enough for her," said Dotty. + +"But it was such a pity to hurt her feelings!" said Prudy. + +"Who hurted 'em?" asked Fly, looking rather sheepish. + +"Poh! her feelings can't be worth much," remarked Horace; "a woman +that'll go and rig herself up in that style." + +"She must be near-sighted," said Aunt Madge. "She certainly can't have +the faintest idea how thick that paint is. She ought to let somebody +else put it on." + +"But, auntie, isn't it wicked to wear paint on your cheeks?" + +"No, Dotty, only foolish. That woman was handsome once, but her beauty +is gone. She thinks she can make herself young again, and then people +will admire her." + +"O, but they won't; they'll only laugh." + +"Very true, Dotty; but I dare say she never thought of that till this +little child told her." + +"Fly," said Horace, "You are doing a great deal of good going round +hurting folks' feelings." + +"Poor woman!" said Aunt Madge, with a pitying smile; "she might comfort +herself by trying to make her soul beautiful." + +"That would be altogether the best plan," said Horace, aside to Prudy; +"she can't do much with her body, that's a fact; it's too dried up." + +All this while they were passing elegant shops, and Aunt Madge let the +children pause as long as they liked before the windows, to admire the +beautiful things. + +"Whose little grampa is that?" cried Fly, pointing to a Santa Claus +standing on the pavement and holding out his hands with a very pleasant +smile; "he's all covered with a snow-storm." + +"He isn't alive," said Dotty; "and the snow is only painted on his coat +in little dots." + +"Well, I didn't spect he was alive, Dotty Dimple, only but he made +believe he was. And O, see that hossy! he's dead, too, but he looks as +if you could ride on him." + +"This other window is the handsomest, Fly; don't I wish I had some of +those beautiful dripping, red ear-rings?" + +"Why, little sister," said Prudy, "I'd as soon think of wanting a gold +nose as those cat-tail ear-rings. What would Grandma Read say?" + +"Why, she'd say 'thee' and 'thou,' I s'pose, and ask me if I called 'em +the ornaments of meek and quiet spirits," said Dotty, with a slight curl +of the lip. "Auntie, is it wicked to wear jewels, if your grandma's a +Quaker?" + +"I think not; that is, if somebody should give you a pair; but I hope +somebody never will. It is a mere matter of taste, however. O, children, +now I think of it, I'll give you each a little pin-money to spend, +to-day, just as you like. A dollar each to Prudy and Dotty; and, Horace, +here is fifty cents for Flyaway." + +"O, you darling auntie!" cried the little Parlins, in a breath. Dotty +shut this, the largest bill she had ever owned, into her red +porte-monnaie, feeling sure she should never want for anything again +that money can buy. + +"There, now, Hollis," said Fly, drawing her mouth down and her eyebrows +up, "where's my skipt? _my_ skipt?" + +"What? A little snip like you mustn't have money," answered Horace, +carelessly; "auntie gave it to me." + +The moment he had spoken the words, he was sorry, for the child was too +young and sensitive to be trifled with. She never doubted that her great +cruel brother had robbed her. It was too much. Her "dove's eyes" shot +fire. Flyaway could be terribly angry, and her anger was "as quick as a +chain o' lightning." Before any one had time to think twice, she had +turned on her little heel, and was running away. With one impulse the +whole party turned and followed. + +"Prudy and I haven't breath enough to run," said Aunt Madge. "Here we +are at Stewart's. You'll find us in the rotunda, Horace. Come back here +with Fly, as soon as you have caught her." + +As soon as he had caught her! + +They were on Broadway, which was lined with people, moving to and fro. +Horace and Dotty had to push their way through the crowd, while little +Fly seemed to float like a creature of air. + +"Stop, Fly! Stop, Fly!" cried Horace; but that only added speed to her +wings. + +"She's like a piece of thistle-down," laughed Horace; "when you get near +her you blow her away." + +"Stop, O, stop," cried Dotty; "Horace was only in fun. Don't run away +from us, Fly." + +But by this time the child was so far off that the words were lost in +the din. + +"Why, where is she? I don't see her," exclaimed Horace, as the little +blue figure suddenly vanished, like a puff of smoke. "Did she cross the +street?" + +"I don't know, Horace. O, dear, I don't know." + +It was the first time a fear had entered either of their minds. Knowing +very little of the danger of large cities, they had not dreamed that the +foolish little Fly might get caught in some dreadful spider's web. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +DOTTY HAVING HER OWN WAY. + + +Yes, Fly was out of sight; that was certain. Whether she had turned to +the right, or to the left, or had merely gone straight on, fallen down, +and been trampled on, that was the question. How was one to find out? +People enough to inquire of, but nobody to answer. + +Horace had as many thoughts as a drowning man. How had he ever dared +bring such a will-o'-the-wisp away from home? How had his mother +consented to let him? His father had charged him, over and over, not to +let go Fly's hand in the street. That did very well to talk about; but +what could you do with a child that wasn't made of flesh and blood, but +the very lightest kind of gas? + +"Dotty, turn down this street, and I'll keep on up Broadway. No--no; +you'd get lost. What shall we do? Go just where I do, as hard as you can +run, and don't lose sight of me." + +Dotty began to pant. She could not keep on at this rate of speed, and +Horace saw it. + +"You'll have to go back to Stewart's." + +"Where's Stewart's?" gasped Dotty, still running. + +"Why, that stone building on Tenth Street, with blue curtains, where we +left auntie." + +"I don't know anything about Tenth Street or blue curtains." + +"But you'll know it when you get there. Just cross over--" + +"O, Horace Clifford, I can't cross over! There's horses and carriages +every minute; and my mother made me almost promise I wouldn't ever cross +over." + +"There are plenty of policemen, Dotty; they'll take you by the +shoulder--" + +"O, Horace Clifford, they shan't take me by the shoulder! S'pose I want +'em marching me off to the lockup?" screamed Dotty, who believed the +lockup was the chief end and aim of policemen. + +"Well, then, I don't know anything what to do with you," said Horace, in +despair. + +It seemed very hard that he should have the care of this willful little +cousin, just when he wanted so much to be free to pursue Flyaway. + +"If you won't go back to Stewart's, you won't. Will you go into this +shop, then, and wait till I call for you?" + +"You'll forget to call." + +"I certainly won't forget." + +"Well, then, I'll go in; but I won't promise to stay. I want to help +hunt for Fly just as much as you do." + +"Dotty Dimple, look me right in the eye. I can't stop to coax you. I'm +frightened to death about Fly. Do you go into this store, and stay in it +till I call for you, if it's six hours. If you stir, you're lost. +Do--you--_hear_?" + +"Yes, I _hear_.--H'm, he thinks my ears are thick as ears o' corn? No +holes in 'em to hear with, I s'pose! Horace Clifford hasn't got the +_say_ o' me, though. I can go all over town for all o' him!" + +"What will you have, my little lady?" said a clerk, bowing to Dotty. + +"I don't want anything, if you please, sir. There was a boy, and he +asked me to stay here while he went to find something." + +"Very well; sit as long as you please." + +"Screwed right down into the floor, this piano stool is," thought Dotty; +"makes it real hard to sit on, because you can't whirl it. Guess I'll +walk 'round a while. Why, if here isn't a window right in the floor! +Strong enough to walk on. There's a man going over it with big boots and +a cane. I can look right down into the cellar. Only just I can't see any +thing, though, the glass is so thick." + +Dotty watched the clerks measuring off yards of cloth, tapping on the +counter, and calling out, "Cash." It was rather funny, at first, to see +the little boys run; but Dotty soon tired of it. + +"Horace is gone a long while," thought she, going to the door and +looking out. + +"He has forgotten to call, or he's forgotten where he left me, or else +he hasn't found Fly. Dear, dear! I can't wait. I'll just go out a few +steps, and p'rhaps I'll meet 'em." + +She walked out a little way, seeing nothing but a multitude of strange +faces. + +"Well, I should think this was queer! I'll go right back to that store, +and sit down on the piano stool. If Horace Clifford can't be more +polite! Well, I should think!" + +Dotty went back, and entered, as she supposed, the store she had left; +but a great change had come over it. It had the same counters, and +stools, and goods on lines, marked "Selling off below cost;" but the men +looked very different. "I don't see how they could change round so +quick," thought Dotty; "I haven't been gone _more'n_ a minute." + +"What shall I serve you to, mees," said one of them, with a smile that +was all black eyes and white teeth. Dotty thought he looked very much +like Lina _Rosenbug's_ brother; and his hair was so shiny and sticky, it +must have been dipped in molasses. + +She answered him with some confusion. "I don't want anything. I was the +girl, you know, that the boy was going somewhere to find something." + +The man smiled wickedly, and said, "Yees, mees." In an instant it +flashed across Dotty that she had got into the wrong store. Where was +the glass window she had walked on? They couldn't have taken that out +while she was gone. The floor was whole, and made of nothing but boards. + +"Well, it's very queer stores should be _twins_," thought Dotty. + +She entered the next one. It was not a "twin;" it was full of books and +pictures. + +"Why didn't Horace leave me here, in the first place, it was so much +nicer. And they let people read and handle the pictures. O, they have +the _goldest_-looking things!" + +How shocked Prudy would have been, if she had seen her little sister +reaching up to the counter, and turning over the leaves of books, side +by side with grown people! Miss Dimple was never very bashful; and what +did she care for the people in New York, who never saw her before? She +soon became absorbed in a fairy story. Seconds, minutes, quarters; it +was a whole hour before she came to herself enough to remember that +Horace was to call for her, and she was not where he had left her. + +"But he can't scold; for didn't he keep me waiting, too? Now I'll go +back." + +The next place she entered was a cigar store. + +"I might have known better than to go in; for there's that wooden Indian +standing there, a-purpose to keep ladies out!" + +"O, here's a 'Sample Room.' Now this _must_ be the place, for it says +'Push,' on the green door, just as the other one did." + +What was Dotty's astonishment, when she found she had rushed into a room +which held only tables, bottles, and glasses, and men drinking something +that smelt like hot brandy! + +"I shan't go into any more 'Sample Rooms.' I didn't know a 'Sample' +meant whiskey! But, I do declare, it's funny where _my_ store is gone +to." + +The child was going farther and farther away from it. + +"Here is one that looks a little like it Any way, I can see a glass +window in there, on the floor." + +A lady stood at a counter, folding a piece of green velvet ribbon. Dotty +determined to make friends with her; so she went up to her, and said, in +a low voice, "Will you please tell me, ma'am, if I'm the same little +girl that was in here before? No, I don't mean so. I mean, did I go into +the same store, or is this a different one? Because there's a boy going +to call for me, and I thought I'd better know." + +Of course the lady smiled, and said it might, or might not be the same +place; but she did not remember to have seen Dotty before. + +"What was the number of the store? The boy ought to have known." + +"But I don't believe he did," replied Dotty, indignantly; "he never said +a word to me about numbers. I'm almost afraid I'll get lost!" + +"I should be quite afraid of it, child. Where do you live?" + +"In Portland, in the State of Maine. Prudy and I came to New York: our +auntie sent for us--I know the place when I see it; side of a church +with ivy; but O, dear! I'm afraid the stage don't stop there. She's at +Mr. Stewart's--she and Prudy." + +"Do you mean Stewart's store?" + +"O, no'm; it's a man she knows," replied Dotty, confidently; "he lives +in a blue house." + +The lady asked no more questions. If Dotty had said "Stewart's store," +and had remembered that the curtains were blue, and not the building, +Miss Kopper would have thought she knew what to do; she would have sent +the child straight to Stewart's. + +"Poor little thing!" said she, twisting the long curl, which hung down +the back of her neck like a bell-rope, and looking as if she cared more +about her hair than she cared for all the children in Portland. "The +best thing you can do is to go right into the druggist's, next door but +one, and look in the City Directory. Do you know your aunt's husband's +name?" + +"O, yes'm. Colonel Augustus Allen, _Fiftieth_ Avenue." + +"Well, then, there'll be no difficulty. Just go in and ask to look in +the Directory; they'll tell you what stage to take. Now I must attend to +these ladies. Hope you'll get home safe." + +"A handsome child," said one of the ladies. "Yes, from the country," +replied Miss Kopper with a sweet smile; "I have just been showing her +the way home." + +Ah, Miss Kopper, perhaps you thought you were telling the truth; but +instead of relieving the country child's perplexity, you had confused +her more than ever. What should Dotty Dimple know about a City +Directory? She forgot the name of it before she got to the druggist's. + +"Please, sir, there's something in here,--may I see it?--that shows +folks where they live." + +"A policeman?" + +"No; O, no, sir." + +After some time, the gentleman, being rather shrewd, surmised what she +wanted, and gave her the book. + +"Not that, sir," said Dotty, ready to cry. + +Perhaps you will be as ready to laugh, when you hear that the child +really supposed a City Directory was an instrument that drew out and +shut up like a telescope, and, by peeping through it, she could see the +distant home of Colonel Allen, on "Fiftieth Avenue." + +The apothecary did not laugh at her; but, being a kind man, and, +moreover, not having curls hanging down his neck which needed attention, +he gave his whole care to Dotty, found an omnibus for her, told the +driver just where to let her out, and made her repeat her uncle's street +and number till he thought there was no danger of a mistake. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +DOTTY REBUKED. + + +One would have thought that now all Dotty's troubles were over; and so +they would have been, if she had not tried so hard to remember the +number. She said it over and over so many times, that all of a sudden it +went out of her mind. It was like rolling a ball on the ground, backward +and forward, till most unexpectedly it pops into a hole. Very much +frightened, Dotty bit her lip, twirled her front hair, and pinched her +left cheek--all in vain; the number wouldn't come. + +"O, dear, what'll I do? I'd open that cellar door, where the driver is; +but he's all done up in a blue cape, and don't know anything only how +to whip his horses. And there don't anybody know where anybody lives in +this city; so it's no use to ask. For what do they care? They'd tell you +to look in the Dictionary. There's nobody in Portland ever told me to +look in a Dictionary. Here they are, sitting round here, just as happy, +all but me. They all live in a number, and they know what it is; but +they keep it to themselves,--they don't tell. It always makes people +feel better to know where they're going to. When I'm in Portland I know +how to get to Park Street, and how to get to Munjoy, and how to get to +Back Cove, with my eyes shut. But they don't make things as they ought +to in New York. You can't find out what to do." + +So the stage rumbled, and Dotty grumbled. Presently a lady in an ermine +cloak got out, and Dotty did not know of anything better to do than to +follow. She certainly was on Fifth Avenue, and perhaps, if she walked +on, she should come to the number. + +"There isn't any house along here that looks like auntie's," said she, +anxiously; "only they all look like it some. I never saw such a place as +this city, So many same things right over, and over; and then, when you +go into 'em, its just as different, and not the place you s'posed it +was." + +Here Dotty ran up some steps, and rang a bell. She thought the damask +curtains looked familiar. + +"No, no," cried she, running down again, as fast as the mouse ran down +the clock; "my auntie don't keep onions in her bay window, I hope!" + +It was hyacinth bulbs, in glass vases, which had excited Dotty's +disgust. + +"O, I guess I'm on the wrong side of the street; no wonder I can't find +the house. There, I see a chamber window open; _our_ chamber window was +open. I'm going to cross over and get near enough to see if there's a +little clock on the shelf that ticks like a dog wagging his tail." + +No, there was no clock of any sort, and where the shelf ought to be was +a baby's crib. + +"Well, any way, here's that beautiful church, with ivy round it; it's +ever so near auntie's; so I'll keep walking." + +Dotty was right when she said the church was near auntie's--it was +within three doors; but she was wrong when she kept walking precisely +the wrong way. She crossed over to Sixth Avenue. Now, where were the +brown houses? She saw the horse-cars plodding along, and tried to read +the words on them. + +"'Sixth Ave. and Fifty-Ninth Street.' Why, what's an _ave_? I never heard +of such a thing before; we don't have 'aves' in Portland. There are ever +so many people getting out of that car. While it stops, I'll peep in, +and see where it's going to. Perhaps there's a name inside that tells." + +And, with her usual rashness, Dotty stepped upon the platform of the +car, and looked in. What she expected to see she hardly knew,--perhaps +"Aunt Madge's House," in gold letters; but what she really saw was, "No +Smoking;" those two words, and nothing more. + +"Well, who wants to smoke? I'm sure _I_ don't," thought Dotty, +disdainfully, and was turning to step off the platform, when Horace +Clifford seized her by the shoulder. + +"Where did you come from, you runaway?" said he, gruffly. + +Close beside him were Aunt Madge and Prudy; all three were getting out +of the car. + +"Thank Heaven, one of them is found," cried Aunt Madge, her face very +pale, her large eyes full of trouble. + +Prudy kissed and scolded in the same breath. "O, Dotty Dimple, you'd +better believe we're glad to see you?--but what a naughty girl! A pretty +race you've led Horace, and he just wild about Fly!" + +"H'm! what'd he go off for, then, and leave me there, sitting on a piano +stool? S'pose I's going to sit there all day? Didn't I want to go home +as much as the rest of you." + +"And how did you get home? I'd like to know that," said Horace, walking +on with great strides, and then coming back again to the "ladies;" for +his anxiety about his little sister would not allow him to behave +calmly. + +"I rode." + +"You weren't in the car _we_ came in." + +"N-o; I just happened to be peeking in there you know. But I came in an +_omnibius_." + +"It is wonderful," said Aunt Madge, looking puzzled, "that you ever knew +what omnibus to take." + +Dotty looked down to see if her boot was buttoned, and forgot to look up +again. "Well, _I_ shouldn't have known one _omnibius_, as you call it, +from another," said Prudy, lost in admiration. "Why, Dotty, how bright +you are! And there we were, so afraid about you, and spoke to a +policeman to look you up." + +"I wouldn't let a p'liceman catch _me_," said Dotty, tossing her head. +"But haven't you found Fly yet?" + +They were at home by this time, and Horace was ringing the bell. + +"No, the dear child is still missing; but the police are on her track," +said Aunt Madge, looking at her watch. "It is now one o'clock. Keep a +good heart, Horace, my boy. John shall go straight to the telegraph +office, and wait there for a despatch. Don't you leave us, dear; we +can't spare you, and you can do no good." + +Horace made no reply, except to tap the heels of his boots together. He +looked utterly crushed. A large city was just as strange to him as it +was to Dotty, and he could only obey his aunt's orders, and try to hope +for the best. Dotty seemed to be the only one who felt like saying a +word, and she talked incessantly. + +"O, what'd you send the p'lice after her for? To put her in the lockup, +and make her cry and think she's been naughty? It's the awfulest city +that ever I saw. Folks might send her home, if they were a mind to, but +they won't. They don't care what 'comes of you. There's cars and stages +going to which ways, and nothing but 'No Smoking,' inside. And I went +and peeped in at a window, and there was _onions_! And how'd I know +where to go to? There was a girl with a long curl, and she said, 'Go to +the 'pothecary's;' and what would Fly have known where she meant? And he +looked in a Dictionary, and put me in a stage,--I was going to tell you +about that when I got ready,--and asked me if I had ten cents, and I +had; and then I forgot what the number was, and that was the time I saw +the onions, or I should have gone right into somebody's else's house. +And I knew there was a church with ivy round, but Fly don't know; she's +nothing but a baby. And I should have thought, Horace Clifford, you +might have given her that money! That was what made her run off; you was +real cruel, and that's why I wouldn't mind what you said. And--and--" + +"Hush," said Aunt Madge, brushing back a spray of fair curls, which the +wind had tossed over her forehead. "I don't allow a word of scolding in +my house. If you don't feel pleasant, Dotty, you may go into the back +yard and scold into a hole." + +Dotty stopped suddenly. She knew her aunt was displeased; she felt it in +the tones of her voice. + +"Dotty, the wind has been at play with your hair as well as mine. +Suppose we both go up stairs a few minutes?" + +"There, auntie's going to reason with me," thought Dotty, winding slowly +up the staircase; "I didn't suppose she was one of that kind." + +"No dear, I'm _not_ one of that kind," said Mrs. Allen, roguishly; for +she saw just what the child was thinking. "'I come not here to talk.' +All I have to say is this: Disobey again, and I send you home +immediately." + +"Yes'm," said the little culprit, blushing crimson. "Now, brush your +hair, and let us go down." This was the only allusion Mrs. Allen ever +made to the subject; but after this, she and Dotty understood each other +perfectly. Dotty had learned, once for all, that her aunt was not to be +trifled with. + +The child really was ashamed--thoroughly ashamed; but do you suppose +she admitted it to Horace? Not she. And he, so full of anguish +concerning the lost Fly, found not a word of fault; scarcely even +thought of his naughty cousin at all. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +THE LOST FLY. + + +Now we must go back and see what has become of the little one. + +At first her heart had swollen with rage. Anger had set her going, just +as a blow from a battledoor sends off a shuttlecock. And, once being +started, the poor little shuttlecock couldn't stop. + +"Auntie gave me that skipt. Hollis is a very wicked boy; steals skipt +from little gee-urls. I don't ever want to see Hollis no more." + +What she meant to do, or where to go, she had no more idea than the blue +clouds overhead. She had no doubt her brother was close behind, trying +to overtake her. Her sole thought was, that she "wouldn't ever see +Hollis no more." She knew nothing could make him so unhappy as that. +"I'll lose me, and then how'll he feel?" + +"Lose me!" A wild thought, gone in a moment; but meanwhile she was +already lost. + +"I hope auntie won't give Hollis nuffin to eat, 'cause he's took away my +skipt; nuffin to eat but meat and vertato, athout any pie." + +Flyaway shook her head so hard, that the "war-plume" under her bonnet +would have nodded, if the air could have got at it. "Why, where's +Hollis?" said she, looking back, and finding, to her surprise, he was +not to be seen. "I spected he'd come. I thought I heard him walking +ahind me." + +Flyaway's anger had died out by this time. It never lasted longer than +a Fourth of July torpedo. + +"He didn't know I runned off. Guess I'll go back, and he'll give me the +skipt; and then I'll forgive him all goody." + +A very nice plan; only, instead of going back, she turned a corner, and +tripped along towards University Place. She had twisted her head so much +in looking for Horace, that it was completely turned round. And, +besides, a little farther on was a man playing a harp, and a small boy a +violin. Fly paused and listened, till she no longer remembered Horace or +the "skipt." She forgot this was New York, and dreamed she had come to +fairy-land. Her soul was full of music. Happy thoughts about nothing in +particular made her smile and clap her hands. Birds, flowers, Santa +Clauses, Flipperties, and "pepnits" seemed to hover near. Something +beautiful was just going to happen, she didn't know what. + +After the man had played for some time without attracting attention from +any body but Flyaway and a poor old beggar woman, he put his harp in a +green bag, slung it over his shoulder, and walked off. Flyaway followed +without knowing it. Down Sixth Avenue went the music-man, and close at +his heels went she. By and by she saw a little girl, no larger than +herself, with a great bundle on her shoulders. + +"You don't s'pose she's got a music on _her_ back?--No, not a music; +it's too soft all swelled out in a bunch." + +Fly went nearer the little girl, to see what she was carrying; and as +she did so, some gray coals, mixed with ashes, fell out of the bundle +upon her nice cloak. + +"Why, she's been and carried off her mother's fireplace," thought Fly, +shaking her cloak in disgust; "what you s'pose she wanted to do that +for?" + +But far from carrying off her mother's fireplace, the ragged little girl +had only been picking up old coal out of barrels, and was taking it home +to burn. It had already been burned once, and picked over and burned +again, and thrown away; but perhaps this poor child's mother could coax +it into a faint glow, warm enough to fry a few potatoes. + +While Flyaway was shaking her cloak, and staring at some old silk +dresses and bed-quilts, which were hung before a shop-door, the man with +the harp on his back, and the boy with a violin under his arm, had +turned a corner, and passed out of sight. Flyaway rubbed her eyes, and +looked again. They must have gone down through the brick pavement, but +she couldn't see any hole. Far away in the distance she heard their +music again, and it did not come from under ground. She ran to overtake +it, and turned into Bleecker Street. No music-man there, but a good +supply of oranges and apples. + +"Needn't folks put their hands in, and take some out the barrels? Then +why for did the folks put 'em on' doors?" + +While pondering this grave question, she was jostled by a man carrying a +rocking-chair, and very nearly fell down stairs into an oyster-saloon. A +minute more and she was back on Broadway, the very street, where Aunt +Madge and Prudy were waiting for her, but so much lower down that she +might as well have been in the State of Maine. + +"Now, I'll go find my Hollis," said she turning another corner, and +running the wrong way with all her might. Past candy-stalls, past +toy-shops, past orange-wagons. Hark, music again! Not the soft strains +of a harp, but the stirring notes of bugle, fife, and drum. Fly kept +time with her feet. + +"Here we go marchin' on," hummed she. But the crowd "marchin' on" with +her was a strange one. Carts full of hammers, pincers, and all sorts of +iron tools, and men in gray shirts, with black caps on their heads. Some +of the men had banners, with great black words, such as "Equal Rights," +or something like them, in German; but of course Fly could not tell one +letter from another. She only knew it was all very "homebly," in spite +of the music. She began to think she had better get away as soon as she +could; so she tried to cross the street, but some one held her back; it +was a lady, carrying a small dog in her arms, like a baby. + +"Don't go there, child; that's a strike, you'll get killed." + +Fly knew but one meaning for the word _strike_; and, tearing herself +from the lady, ran screaming down Broadway, with the thought that every +man's hand was against her. + +On she went, and on went the strike, close behind her. A little while +ago she had been following music, and now music was following her. But +the fifes and drums were rather slow, and Flyaway's feet were very +swift; so it was not long before the gray men, with their white banners +and clattering carts, were far behind her. No danger now that any of the +wicked creatures would strike her; so she slackened her pace. + +She did begin to wonder why she had not found Horace; still, she was not +at all alarmed, and there was a dreadful din in the streets, which +confused her thoughts. It seemed as if people were making it on purpose. +Once, at Willowbrook, she had heard boys banging tin pans, grinding +coffee mills, and pounding with mortars. She had liked that,--they +called it the "Calathumpian Band,"--and she liked this too; it sounded +about as uproarious. + +While she sauntered along, spying wonders, her eye was attracted by some +balancing-toys, which a man was showing off at one of the corners. What +a pleasant man he was, to set them spinning just to amuse little girls! +Fly was delighted with one wee soldier, in a blue coat with brass +buttons, who kept dancing and bowing with the greatest politeness. +"Captain Jinks, of the horse-marines," said the toy-man, introducing +him. "Buy him, miss; he'll make a nice little husband for you; only +fifteen cents." + +Fly felt quite flattered. It was the first time in her life any one had +ever asked her to buy anything, and she thought she must have grown tall +since she came from Indiana. She put her fingers in her mouth, then took +them out, and put them in her pocket. + +"Here's my porte-monnaie-ry," said she, dolefully; "but I haven't but +two cents--no more. Hollis carried it off." + +"Well, well, run along, then. Don't you see you're right in the way?" + +Fly was surprised and grieved at the change in the man's tone: she had +expected he would pity her for not having any money. + +"Come here, you little lump of love," called out a mellow voice; and +there, close by, sat a wizened old woman, making flowers into nosegays. +She had on a quilted hood as soft as her voice, but everything else +about her was as hard as the door-stone she sat on. + +"See my beautiful flowers," said the old crone, pointing to the table +before her; "who cares for them jumping things over yonder? I don't." + +The flowers were tied in bouquets--sweet violets, rosebuds, and +heliotrope. Fly, whose head just reached the top of the table, smelt +them, and forgot the "little husband, for fifteen cents." + +"He's a cross man, dearie," said the old woman, lowering her voice, "or +he wouldn't have sent you off so quick, just because you hadn't any +money. Now, I love little girls, and I'll warrant we can make some kind +of a trade for one of my posies." + +Fly smiled, and quickly seized a bouquet with a clove pink in it. + +"Not so fast, child! What you got that you can give me for it? I don't +mind the money. That old pocket-book will do, though 'tain't wuth much." + +It was very surprising to Fly to hear her port-monnaie called old; for +it was bought last week, and was still as red as the cheeks of the +painted lady. + +"I don't _dass_ to give folks my porte-monnaie-ry," said she, clutching +it tighter, but holding the flowers to her nose all the while. + +"O, fudge! Well, what else you got in your pocket? A handkerchief?" + +"No, my hangerfiss is in my muff." + +"That? Why, there isn't a speck o' lace on it. Nice little ladies always +has lace. Here's a letter in the corner; what is it?" + +"Hollis says it's K; stands for Flyaway." + +"Well, you're such a pretty little pink, I guess I'll take it; but +'tain't wuth lookin' at," said the crafty old woman, who saw at a glance +it was pure linen, and quite fine. + +"Now run along, baby; your mummer will be waitin' for you." + +Fly walked on slowly. Ought she to have parted with her very best +hangerfiss! + +"Nice ole lady, loved little gee-urls; but what you s'pose folks was +goin' to cry into now?" + +Tears started at the thought. One of them dropped into the eye of the +squirrel, who sat on the muff, peeping up into her face. + +"Nice ole lady, I s'pose; but folks never wanted to buy my +_hangerfisses_ byfore!" thought Fly, much puzzled by the state of +society in New York. "And I've got some beau-fler flowers to my auntie's +house. Wake up--wake up!" added she, blowing open a pink rose-bud; +"you's too little for me." + +But the bud did not wish to wake up and be a rose; it curled itself +together, and went to sleep again. + +"I don't see where Hollis stays to all the time," exclaimed the little +one, beginning to have a faint curiosity about it. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +"THE FRECKLED DOG." + + +But just then a gentle-looking blind girl came along led by a dog. The +sight was so strange that Flyaway stopped to admire; for whatever else +she might be afraid of, she always loved and trusted a dog. + +"Doggie, doggie," cried she, patting the little animal's head. + +"O, _what_ a sweet voice," said the blind girl, putting out her hand and +groping till she touched Fly's shoulder. "I never heard such a voice!" + +This was what strangers often said, and Flyaway never doubted the +sweetness was caused by eating so much candy; but just now she had had +none for two days. + +"What makes you shut your eyes up, right in the street, girl? Is the +_seeingness_ all gone out of 'em?" + +"Yes, you darling. I haven't had any seeingness in my eyes for a year." + +"You didn't? Then you's _blind-eyed_," returned Flyaway, with perfect +coolness. + +"And don't you feel sorry for me--not a bit?" + +"No, 'cause your dog is freckled so pretty." + +"But I can't see his freckles." + +"Well, he's got 'em. Little yellow ones, spattered out all over him." + +"But if I had eyes like you, I shouldn't need any dog. I could go about +the streets alone." + +"Well, I don't like to go 'bout the streets alone; I want my own +brother Hollis." + +"I hope you haven't got lost, little dear?" + +"No," laughed Fly, gayly; "I didn't get lost! But I don't know where +nobody is! And there don't nobody know where _I_ am!" + +The blind girl took Fly's little hand tenderly in hers. + +"Come, turn down this street with me, and tell me all about it." + +Fly trudged along, prattling merrily, for about a minute: then she drew +away. "'Tisn't a nice place; I don't want to go there." + +A look of pain crossed the blind girl's face. + +"No, I dare say you don't. It isn't much of a place for folks with silk +bonnets on." + +"You can't see my bonnet; you can't see anything, you're blind-eyed; +but," said Fly, glancing sharply around, "it isn't pretty here, at all; +and there's a dead cat right in the street." + +"Yes, I think likely." + +"And there's a boy. I spect he frowed the cat out the window; he hasn't +nuffin on but dirty cloe's." + +"Do you see some steps?" said the blind girl, putting her hand out +cautiously. "Don't fall down." + +"I shan't fall down; I'm going home." + +"O, don't child; you must come with me. My mother will take care of +you." + +"I don't want nobody's mother to take 'are o' me; I've got a mamma +myself!" + +"How little you know!" said the blind girl, thinking aloud; "how lucky +it is I found you! and O, dear, how I wish I could see! You'll slip +away in spite of me." + +But Flyaway allowed herself to be drawn along, step by step, partly +because she liked the "freckled dog," and partly because she had not +ceased being amused by the droll sight of a person walking with closed +eyes. + +"What's the name of you, girl?" + +"Maria." + +"Maria? So was my mamma; her name was Maria, when she was a little girl. +O, look, there's another boy; don't you see him? Up high, in that house. +Got a big box with a string to it." + +A very rough-looking boy was standing at a third-story window, lowering +a bandbox by a clothes-line. As Fly watched the box slowly coming down, +the boy called out,-- + +"Get in, little un, and I'll give you a free ride." + +"O, no--O, no; I don't _dass_ to." + +"Yes, yes; go in, lemons," said the boy, choking with laughter, as he +saw the child's horror. "If you don't do it, by cracky, I'll come down +and fetch you." + +At this, Fly was frightened nearly out of her senses, and ran so fast +that the dog could scarcely have kept up with her, even if he had not +had a blind mistress pulling him back. + +"O, where are you?" exclaimed Maria. "Don't run away from me,--don't!" + +"He's a-gon to kill me in two," cried Flyaway, stopping for breath.' +"he's a-gon to kill me in two-oo!" + +"No, he isn't, dear! It's only Izzy Paul He couldn't catch you, if he +tried. He's lame, and goes on crutches." + +"But he said a swear word,--yes he, did," sobbed the child, never +doubting that a boy who could swear was capable of murder, though he had +neither hands nor feet. + +"Stop, now," said Maria, clutching Fly as if she had been a spinning +top. "This is my house. Mother, mother, here's a little girl; catch +her--hold her--keep her!" + +"Me? What should I catch a little girl for?" said Mrs. Brooks, a faded +woman with a tired face, and a nose that moved up and down when she +talked. She had been standing at the door of their tumbledown tenement, +looking for her daughter, and was surprised to see her bringing a +strange child with her. It was not often that well-dressed people +wandered into that dirty alley. + +"The poor little thing has got lost, mother. Perhaps _you_ can find out +where she came from. I didn't ask her any questions; it was as much as I +could do to keep up with her." + +Maria put her hand on her side. Fast walking always tired her, for she +was afraid every moment of falling. + +They had to go down a flight of stairs to get into the house; and after +they got there Fly looked around in dismay. + +"I don't want to stay in the stable," she murmured. Indeed it was not +half as nice as the place where her father kept his horse. + +"But this is where we have to live," sighed Maria. + +"Have things to eat?" asked the little stranger, in a solemn whisper. + +There were a few chairs with broken backs, a few shelves with clean +dishes, a few children with hungry faces. In one corner was a clumsy +bedstead, and in a tidy bed lay a pale man. + +"Who've you got there, Maria?" said he. "Bring her along, and stick her +up on the bed." + +"Don't be afraid," said Mrs. Brooks; "it's only pa; wouldn't the little +girl like to talk to him? He's sick." + +Flyaway was not at all afraid, for the man smiled pleasantly, and did +not look as if he would hurt anybody. Mrs. Brooks set her on the bed, +and Maria, afraid of losing her, held her by one foot. The children all +crowded around to see the little lady in a silk bonnet holding a +button-hole bouquet to her bosom. + +"Ain't she a ducky dilver!" said the oldest boy. "Pa'll be pleased, for +he don't see things much. Has to keep abed all the time." + +Mr. Brooks tried to smile, and Flyaway whispered to Maria, with sudden +pity,-- + +"Sorry he's sick. Has he got to stay sick? Can't you find the camphor +bottle?" + +"O, father, she thinks if ycu had some camphor to smell of, 'twould cure +you." + +Then they all laughed, and Fly timidly offered the sick man her flowers. + +"What, that pretty posy for me? Bless you, baby, they'll do me a sight +more good than camfire!" + +"There," said Maria, joyfully, "now pa is pleased; I know by the sound +of his voice. Poor pa! only think, little girl, a stick of timber fell +on him, and lamed him for life!" + +"Yes," said Bennie, "the lower part of him is as limber as a rag." + +"She don't sense a word you say," remarked Mrs. Brooks, shaking up a +pillow, "See what we can get out of her. What's your name, dear?" + +"Katie Clifford." + +"Where do you live?" + +"I _have_ been borned in Nindiana." + +Fly spoke with some pride. She considered her birth an honor to the +state. + +"But where did you come from, Katie? That's what we mean." + +"I camed from heaven," said the child, with one of her wise looks. + +"Beats all, don't she?" cried Mr. Brooks, admiringly. "Looks like an +angel, I declare for't. Did you just drop down out of the sky?" + +"No, sir," answered Flyaway, folding her little hands as if she were +saying her prayers; "I camed down when I was a baby." + +[Illustration: "I CAMED DOWN WHEN I WAS A BABY."] + +"That's what makes your hair so _goldy_," said Bennie. "Mother, did you +ever see such eyes? Say, did you ever? So soft, and kinder shiny, too." + +"Children, don't stare at her; it makes her uneasy." + +"_I_ can't stare at her," said Maria, bitterly. "I suppose you don't +mean me, mother." + +Mrs. Brooks only answered her poor daughter by a kiss. + +"Well, little Katie, after you were born in _Nindiana_, you came to New +York. When did you come?" + +"One of these other days I camed here with Hollis." + +"Who's Hollis?" + +"He's my own brother. Got a new cap. Had his hair cut." + +"Who did you come to New York to see?" "My auntie." + +"Her auntie! A great deal of satisfaction we are likely to get out of +this child," said Mr. Brooks, laughing. He had not laughed before for a +week. + +"What's your auntie's name?" + +"Aunt Madge." + +"Is she married?" + +"O, yes; and so's Uncle 'Gustus. Married together, and live together, +just the same." + +"Uncle 'Gustus who? Now we'll come at it!" + +"Alling," replied Fly, her quick eyes roving about the room, for she was +tired of these questions. + +"Allen, Augustus Allen!" said Mr. Brooks, in surprise; "I wonder if +there can be two of them. Tell me, child, how does he look?" + +"Don't look like you," replied Fly, after a keen survey of Mr. Brooks. +"Your face is pulled away down long, like that;" (stretching her hand +out straight) "Uncle 'Gustus's face is squeezed up short" (doubling her +hand into a ball) + +"I'll warrant it is the colonel himself," said Mrs. Brooks, smiling at +the description. + +"Yes, that's the name of him; the 'kernil's' the name of him." + +"Is it possible!" said Mr. Brooks, looking very much pleased. + +"Uncle 'Gustus has curly hair on his cheeks, on his mouf, all round. +_Not_ little prickles, sticking out like needles." + +"O, you girl!" said Bennie, frowning at Fly. "You mustn't laugh at my +pa's beard. There's a man comes in, sometimes, and shaves him nice; but +now the man's gone to Newark." + +"Is it possible," repeated Mrs. Brooks, taking the child's hand, "that +this is Colonel Allen's little niece, and my Maria found her!" + +"Your Maria didn't find me," said Fly, decidedly; "I founded Maria." + +"So she did, pa. The first thing I knew, I heard somebody calling, +Doggie, doggie,' in such a sweet voice; and then I looked--no, of course +I _couldn't_ look." + +Here the discouraged look came over Maria's mouth, and she said no more. + +"There, there, cheer up, daughter," said Mr. Brooks, with tears in his +eyes; "I was only going on to say, it is passing strange that any of our +family should run afoul of one of the colonel's folks." + +"It's the Lord's doings; I haven't the slightest doubt of it," said Mrs. +Brooks, earnestly. "You know what I've been saying to you, pa." + +"There, there, ma'am, _don't_," said Mr. Brooks; "don't go to raising +false hopes. You know I'm too proud to beg of anybody's folks." + +"Why, pa, I shouldn't call it begging just to tell Colonel Allen how you +are situated! Do you suppose, if he knew the facts of the case, he'd be +willing to let you suffer? Such a faithful man as you used to be to +work." + +"No, I think it's likely he wouldn't. He's got more heart than some rich +folks; but I hain't no sort of claim on the colonel, if I did help build +his house. And then, ma'am, you know I've been kind o' hopin'--" + +"Guess I'll go now, and find Hollis," said Fly, slipping down from the +bed, for the talk did not interest her. + +"O, but I want to go with you, Katie," said Mrs. Brooks, coaxingly. +"Bennie, you amuse her, while I change my dress." + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +MARIA'S MOTHER. + + +"I know your uncle must feel dreadfully to lose you; but never +mind--he'll see you soon," said Mr. Brooks. + +"O, Uncle 'Gustus isn't there." + +"Not there?" said Mrs. Brooks, turning round from the cracked +looking-glass. "Where then?" + +"O, he's gone off." + +"Gone off? Why, pa, ain't that too bad? I'm right up and down +disappointed. But, then, the colonel has a wife; I can go to see her, +you know; and I'll tell her just how you're situ--" + +"My Aunt Madge is gone off, too." + +"You don't say so!" + +"And my brother Hollis is gone." + +"This is a funny piece of work if it's true," said Mr. Brooks, with +another genuine laugh; "you'd better ask her a few more questions before +you start out. Who else is gone? Have they shut the house up?" + +"Yes, sir; shut it right up tight." + +"Nobody in it, at all?" + +"No, only the men and women. Prudy's gone, and Dotty Dimple's gone, and +I'm gone." + +"Only the men and women, she says. That must be the servants. So the +house must be open, pa. At any rate, I shall take her. Say by-bye, my +pretty, and we'll be starting." + +Fly was very glad to go, but Maria clung to her fondly, and Bennie ran +after her almost to Broadway, where Mrs. Brooks took a Fifth Avenue +stage. She knew Colonel Allen's house very well, for she had seen it +more than once, while it was in process of building. That was two or +three years ago, when her husband was well, and the family lived very +comfortably on Thirty-third Street. She sighed as she thought how +different it was now. Mr. Brooks would never be able to work any more; +they hardly had food enough to eat, and poor Maria had lost her +eyesight. + +"Here we are, little Katie," said she. + +But the child did not wait to be helped out; she danced down the steps, +and would have flown across the street, if Mrs. Brooks had not caught +her. + +"I see it--I see it; my auntie's house. But there isn't nobody to it." + +The man who met them at the door was so surprised and delighted to see +Fly, that he forgot his manners, and did not ask Mrs. Brooks in. + +"Bless us, the baby's found!" cried he, and ran to spread the news. + +Aunt Madge was walking the parlor floor, and Horace sitting on the sofa, +as rigid as the marble elf Puck, just over his head. Prudy and Dotty had +joined hands, and were crying softly on the rug. As the police had been +notified of Fly's loss, all the family had to do was to wait. A servant +was at the nearest telegraph office, with a horse and carriage, and at +the first tidings would drive home and report. + +The words "The baby's found" rang through the house like a peal of +bells. In an instant Flyaway Runaway was clasped in everybody's arms, +and wet with everybody's tears. + +"Thought I'd come back," said the little truant, peeping up at her +agitated friends' with some surprise; "thought I'd come back and get my +skipt!" + +Then they exclaimed, in chorus,-- + +"Topknot _shall_ have her skipt! The blessed baby! The darling old Fly!" + +And Dotty wound up by saying,-- + +"Why, you see, we thought you's dead!" + +Flyaway, who had at first been very much astonished at the fuss made +over her, now looked deeply offended. + +"Who said I's dead? What--a--drefful--lie!" + +"O, nobody said so, Fly; only we thought p'rhaps you was; and _what_ +would we do without you, you know?" + +"Why, if I's dead," said Fly, untying her bonnet strings, "then the +funy-yal would come round and take me; that's all." + +"We are most grateful to you," said Aunt Madge, turning to Mrs. Brooks, +"for bringing home this lost child; but do tell us where you found her." + +Then Mrs. Brooks related all she knew of Fly's wanderings, the little +one putting in her own explanations. + +"I didn' be lost," said she sharply. "I feel jus' like frettin', when +you say I's lost. 'Tis the truly truth; I's walking on the streets, and +a naughty woman, she's got my hangerfiss--had ashes roses on it." + +"Yes, I put some otto of rose on it this morning," said Prudy. "What a +shame!" + +"And I gave my flowers to the sick man. He was on the bed, with a blue +bed-kilt. A girl name o' Maria, tookened me home. The seeingness is all +gone out of her eyes, so she can't see." + +"How long has your husband been sick?" asked Mrs. Allen of the woman, +while she was taking lunch in the dining-room. "Did you tell me he knew +Colonel Allen?" + +Mrs. Brooks dropped her knife and fork; but her lips trembled so she +could not speak. Flyaway, who sat in Horace's lap, eating ginger-snaps, +exclaimed, "She wants some perjerves, auntie. She don't get no +perjerves, nor nuffin nice to her house." + +"'Sh!" whispered Horace. The woman looked so respectable and well bred, +that it seemed a great rudeness to allude to her poverty. + +But Mrs. Brooks drank some water, and then answered Aunt Madge, +calmly,-- + +"I'm not ashamed of being poor, Mrs. Allen; it's no disgrace, for there +never was an honester man than my husband, nor none that worked harder, +till a beam fell on him from the roof of a house, two years ago, and he +lost the use of his limbs.--Yes, ma'am; he did use to know your husband. +He was one of the workmen that helped build this house. I came and +looked on when he was setting these very doors." + +"What is his name?" asked Aunt Madge, looking very much interested, and +taking out her note-book and pencil. "What street and number?" + +"Cyrus Brooks, Number Blank, Blank Street, ma'am. Before the accident, +we lived on Thirty-third Street, in very good shape; but, little by +little, we were obliged to sell off, and finally had to move into pretty +snug quarters. But we've always got enough to eat, such as it was," +added the good woman, trying not to show much she enjoyed her lunch. + +"I am very glad Providence has sent you here, Mrs. Brooks," said Aunt +Madge, warmly. "I know Colonel Allen will seek you out when he comes +home next week; but I shall not wait for that; I shall write him this +very night." + +Mrs. Brooks' heart was so full that she had to cry into a coarse purple +handkerchief of Bennie's, which happened to be in her pocket, and felt +very much ashamed because she could not find her voice again, or any +words in which to tell her gratitude. It was just as well, though. Mrs. +Allen knew words were not everything. It gave her pleasure to fill a +huge basket with nice things--wine and jelly for the sick man, plain +food for the family, and a pretty woolen dress for Maria, which had been +intended for Mrs. Fixfax, the housekeeper. + +The children looked on delighted, while the basket was filled with +these articles, then passed over to Nathaniel, who was going home with +Mrs. Brooks. It was amusing to watch Nathaniel, with the monstrous +burden in his hands trying to help Mrs. Brooks down the front steps; for +Aunt Madge was not enough of a fine lady to send the pair around by the +servants' door. + +It was pleasant, too, to watch Mrs. Brooks's happy face, half hidden in +the hood of her water-proof cloak, which kept puffing out, in the high +wind, like a sail. She was going home to tell her husband the Lord had +heard her prayers, and she had found a friend. + +"And you may depend I never talked so easy to anybody in my life, pa;" +this was what she thought she should say. "I didn't _have_ to beg. Mrs. +Allen is one of the Lord's own; I saw it the minute I clapped my eyes +on her face." + +"I am going to see that woman to-morrow, and ask some questions about +her blind daughter," said Aunt Madge, turning away from the window. + +"Ask 'bout her nose, too." + +"Whose nose, Fly?" + +"The woman's. It keeps a-moving when she talks." + +"There, who else noticed that?" exclaimed Horace, tossing his young +sister aloft. "It takes Fly, with her little eye, to see things." + +"But I didn't ask her nuffin 'bout it, though, Horace Clifford. God made +her so, with a wire in." + +Everybody smiled at the notion of Mrs. Brooks being a wax doll. + +"What a queer day it has been!" said Prudy. "Nothing but hide and seek. +We'll all keep together next time, and lock hands tight." + +"Of course," said Dotty, quickly; "but look here; don't you think +'twould be safer not to let Fly go with us? She was the one that made +all the fuss." + +"Want to know if she was," said Horace, slyly. "Guess there are two +sides to that story." + +"At any rate," struck in Aunt Madge, "Fly was the one that did the most +business. You went round doing good--didn't you, dear?" + +"Little city missionary," said Horace. + +Whereupon Miss Fly modestly dropped her head on her brother's shoulder. +She concluded she had done something wonderful in running after a dog. + +"On the whole," continued auntie, "we've all had a very hard time. It's +only three o'clock; but seems to me the day has been forty hours long. +Let us rest, now, and have a quiet little evening, and go to bed early." + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +FIVE MAKING A CALL. + + +The next morning everybody felt fresh, and ready for new adventures. + +"All going but the cat," said Fly, never doubting that her own company +was most desirable. + +"Look up in my eyes, little Topknot with the blue bonnet on. Will you +run away from brother Hollis again?" + +"Not if you don't take my skipt," replied Fly, looking as innocent as a +spring violet. + +"And look up in _my_ eyes, Horace Clifford. Will you run away from +Cousin Dotty, again?" said Miss Dimple, in a hurry to speak before Aunt +Madge came up to them, and before Horace had time for a joke. + +"I didn't run away from you, young lady, but I ran _after_ you, if I +remember," said Horace, dryly. "I don't mean to pursue you with my +attentions to-day. You seem to be able to take care of yourself." + +"Look," cried Aunt Madge, coming up to them with Prudy; "did you ever +before see a span of horses with a dog running between them?" + +"Never," said Doty; "what splendid horses! and don't the dog have to +trot, to keep up? How do you suppose he happened to get in there?" + +"O, he has been trained to it; dogs often are. Now, my young friends, it +seems we have started for Brooklyn again; but on our way to Fulton +Ferry, I would like to stop and see the Brooks family. We must all go +together, though. 'United we stand, divided we fall.'" + +"That's so," said Horace, as they entered the stage. "But, auntie, do +you have perfect faith in the story that woman tells? Perhaps her +hushand is only just lazy, and her daughter shams blindness. You know +what humbugs some of 'em are. I've read there's something they rub over +their eyes, that gives 'em the appearance of being as blind as a bat." + +Prudy looked up at Horace with admiration and respect. He spoke like a +person of deep wisdom and wide experience. + +"We will see for ourselves what we think of the family," said Aunt +Madge. + +"Now," said she, after they had ridden a mile or two, "we must get out +here, and walk a few blocks to the house. Fly, hold your brother's hand +tight." + +"There's the chamer where the boy lives that says swear words; and +there's the boy, ahind the window." + +"Have a free ride, little girl?" shouted Izzy Paul, laughing; for he +remembered faces as well as Fly did, and saw at once that it was the +same child he had frightened so the day before. But Fly never knew fear +where Horace was; she clung to him, and peeped out boldly between her +fingers. + +When they went "down cellow," as she called it, into Mr. Brooks's house, +Aunt Madge was surprised to see how bare it looked. But Dotty Dimple +need not have held her skirts so tightly about her, and brushed her +elbow so carefully when it hit against the wall; for the house was as +clean as hands could make it. + +"Mrs. Brooks, I hope you will forgive me for coming down upon you with +this little army," said Mrs. Allen, with such a cheery smile that the +sick man on the bed felt as if a flood of pure sunshine had burst into +the room. He was so tired of lying there, day after day, like a great +rag baby, and so glad to see anybody, especially the good lady who, his +wife said, was "so easy to talk to!" + +"Auntie, look! see the freckled doggie; and there's my flowers, true's +you live," cried Flyaway. + +"Yes, pa wanted them in a vial, close to his bed; it's the first he's +seen this winter," said Maria, stroking Fly as if she had been a kitten. + +"You may be sure, little lady, it will be as I said; they'll cure me +full as quick as camphire. And, thank the Lord, I can see as well as +smell," said Mr. Brooks, with a tender glance at Maria which made +Horace feel ashamed of himself. The idea of that poor child's rubbing +anything into her eyes? Why, she looked like a wounded bird that had +been out in a storm. Her face was really almost beautiful, but so sad +that you could not see it without a feeling of pity. + +"She looks as if she was walking in her sleep," thought Prudy, and +turned away to hide a tear; for somehow there was a chord in her heart +that thrilled strangely. That "slow winter" came back to her with a +rush, and she was sure she knew how Maria felt. + +"She is blind, and I was lame; but it is the same kind of a feeling. O, +how I wish I could help her!" + +Dotty was as sorry for Maria as she knew how to be, but she could not be +as sorry as Prudy was; for she had never had any trouble greater than a +sore throat. + +"I don't see why the tears don't come into my eyes as easy as they do +into Prudy's," thought she, trying to squeeze out a salt drop; "Mrs. +Brooks'll think I don't care a speck; but I do care." + +As for wee Fly, she took Maria's blindness to heart about as much as she +did the murder of the Hebrew children off in Judea. + +"Pitiful 'bout her seeingness; but I wished I had such a beauful dog!" + +Aunt Madge was struck with the exalted expression of Maria's face. The +child was only thirteen, but suffering had made her look much older. + +"My child," said she, putting her arm around the little girl, and +drawing her towards her, "I know you see a great deal with your mind, +even though your eyes are shut. Now, do tell me all about your +misfortune, and how it happened, for I came on purpose to hear." + +"Yes, we camed to purpose to hear," said Fly, from the foot-board of the +bed, where she had perched and prattled every moment since she came in. +"I founded Maria, and then I went up to her, and says I, 'Doggie, +doggie!'" + +"That was a pretty way to speak to her, I should think," said Dotty; +"but can't you just please to hush while auntie is talking?" + +"As near as I can tell the story," said Mrs. Brooks, rattling the poor +old coal-stove,--for she always had to be moving something else, as well +as her nose, when she talked,--"she lost her sight by studying too +hard, and then getting cold in her eyes." + +"She was always a master hand to study," put in Mr. Brooks. + +Maria looked as if she wanted to run and hide. She did not like to have +her father praise her before people. + +"Yes," said Mrs. Brooks, setting a chair straight; "and by and by the +_leds_ began to draw together, and she couldn't keep 'em open; and there +was such a pain in her eyes, too, that I had to be up nights, bathing +'em in all kinds of messes." + +"_Don't_ her nose jiggle?" whispered Fly to Horace. + +"Of course you took her to a good physician?" + +"Well, yes; we thought he was good. We went to three, off and on, but +she kept growing worse and worse. It was about the time her father was +hurt, and we spent an awful sight on her, till we couldn't spend any +more." + +"And it was all a cheat and a swindle," exclaimed Mr. Brooks, +indignantly. "We'd better have spent the money for a horsewhip, and +whipped them doctors with it!" + +"Don't, pa, don't! You see, Mrs. Allen, he gets so excited about it he +don't know what he says." + +"I wonder you did not take her to the City Hospital, Mrs. Brooks. There +she could be treated free of expense." + +"The fact is, we didn't dare to," replied Mrs. Brooks, taking up an old +shoe of Bennie's, and beginning to brush it; "there are folks that have +told us it ain't safe; they try experiments on poor folks." + +"O, I don't believe you need fear the City Hospital," said Mrs. Allen; +"the physicians there are honest men, and among the most skillful in +the country." + +"But that's our feeling on the subject, ma'am, you see," spoke up Mr. +Brooks, so decidedly, that Aunt Madge saw it was of no use to say any +more about it. "We don't want her eyes put out; there are times when she +can just see a little glimmer, and we want to save all there is left." + +"There are times when she can see? Then there must be hope, Mr. Brooks! +Let me take her to Dr. Blank; he can help her if any one can." + +"Well, now, I take it you're joking, Mrs. Allen. That is the very doctor +I wanted her to see in the first place; but they do say he'd ask six +hundred dollars for looking into her eyes while you'd wink twice." + +"You have been misinformed, Mr. Brooks; he never asks anything of +people who are unable to pay him. But even if he should in Maria's case, +I promise to take the matter into my own hands, and settle the bill +myself." + +"Mother, do you hear what she says!" cried Mr. Brooks, forgetting +himself, and trying to sit up in bed. + +But his wife had broken down, and was polishing Bennie's shoe with her +tears. + +"O, will you take me? Can I go to that doctor?" cried Maria, forgetting +her timidity, and turning her sightless eyes towards Mrs. Allen with a +joyful look, which seemed to glow through the lids. + +"Yes, dear child, I will take you with the greatest pleasure in life; +but remember, I don't promise you can be cured. Come with your mother, +to-morrow morning, at ten. Will that do, Mrs. Brooks? And now, good by, +all. Children, we must certainly be going." + +"God bless her," murmured the sick man, as the little party passed out. + +"Didn't I tell you she was an angel?" said his wife. + +"No, mother; it's that little tot that's the 'angel.' The Lord sent her +on ahead to spy out the land; and afterwards there comes a +flesh-and-blood woman to see it laid straight." + +"Pa thinks that baby is a spirit made out of air," said Maria, laughing +in high excitement. "And, mother, don't you really believe now the Lord +did send her, just as much as if she dropped down out of the sky?" + +"Yes, I hain't a doubt of it, Maria, but what the Lord had us in his +mind when he let the child slip off and get lost.--Pa, I'm going to +give you some of that blackberry cordial now: you look all gone." + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +"THE HEN-HOUSES." + + +While the Brooks family were talking so gratefully, and Maria counting +over the cookies and cups of jelly for the twentieth time, Fly, was +holding on to Horace's thumb, saying, as she skipped along,--"I hope the +doctor'll take a knife, and pick Maria's eyes open, so she can see." + +"Precious little _you_ care whether she can see or not," said Dotty. "I +don't think Fly has much feeling,--do you, Prudy?--not like you and I, I +mean!" + +"Pshaw! what do you expect of such a baby?" said Horace, indignantly. +"You never saw a child so full of pity as this one is, when she knows +what to be sorry for. But a great deal she understands about blindness! +And why should she?--Look here, Topknot; which would you rather do? Have +your eyes put out, and lots of candy to eat, _or_, your eyes all good, +and not a speck of candy as long as you live?" + +"I'd ravver have the candy '_thout_ blind-eyed?" + +"But supposing you couldn't have but one?" + +Fly reflected seriously for half a minute, and then answered, + +"I'd ravver have the candy _with_ blind-eyed!" + +"There, girls, what did I tell you?" + +"'Cause I could eat the candy athout looking, you know," added Fly, +shutting her eyes, and putting a sprig of cedar in her mouth, by way of +experiment. + +"You little goosie," said Prudy; "when Aunt Madge was crying so about +Maria, I did think you were a hard-hearted thing to look up and laugh; +but now, I don't believe you knew any better." + +"Hard-hearted things will soften," said auntie, kissing the baby's +puzzled face. "Little bits of green apples, how hard they are! but they +keep growing mellow." + +"O, you little green apple," cried Dotty, pinching Fly's cheek. + +"I was rather hard-hearted, if I remember, when I was an apple of that +size," continued Aunt Madge. "I could tell you of a few cruel things I +said and did." + +"Tell them," said Horace; "please 'fess." + +"Yes, auntie, naughty things are so interesting. Do begin and tell all +about it." + +"Not on the street, dears. Some time, during the holidays, I may turn +story-teller, if you wish it; but here we are at the ferry; now look out +for the mud." + +"O, what a place," cried Fly, clinging to Horace, and trying to walk on +his boots. "Just like where grampa keeps his pig!" + +"How true, little sister! but you needn't use my feet for a sidewalk. +I'll take you up in my arms. It snowed in the night; but that makes it +all the muddier." + +"Yes, it doesn't do snow any good to fall into New York mud," said Aunt +Madge; "it is like touching pitch." + +"I thought it felt like pitch," remarked Dotty; "sticks to your boots +so." + +"But, then, overhead how beautiful it is!" said Prudy. "I should think +the dirty earth would be ashamed to look up at such a clear sky." + +"But the sky don't mind," returned Horace; "it always overlooks dirt." + +"How very sharp we are getting!" laughed auntie; "we have begun the day +brilliantly. Any more remarks from anybody?" + +"I should like to know," said Dotty, "what all those great wooden things +are made for? I never saw such big hen-houses before!" + +"Hear her talk!" exclaimed auntie. "Hen-houses, indeed! Why, that is +Fulton Market. I shall take you through it when we come back. You can +buy anything in there, from a live eel to a book of poetry." + +"'In mud eel is,'" quoted Horace. "Reckon I'll buy one, auntie, and +carry it home in a piece of brown paper. I believe Dotty is fond of +eels." + +"Fond of eels! Why, Horace Clifford, you know I can't bear 'em, any +more'n a snake. If you do such a thing, Horace Clifford!" + +Here Prudy gave her talkative sister a pinch; for they were surrounded +by people, and Aunt Madge was giving ferry-tickets to a man who stood in +a stall, and brushed them towards him into a drawer. + +"Does he stay in it all night?" whispered Fly; "he can't lie down, no +more'n a hossy can." + +"Here, child, don't try to get down out of my arms. I must carry you +into the boat. Do you suppose I'd trust those wee, wee feet to go flying +over East River?" + +"For don't we know she has wings on her heels?" said Aunt Madge. + +Fly twisted around one of her little rubbers, and looked at it. She +understood the joke, but thought it too silly to laugh at. East River +lay smiling in the sun, white with sails. + +"Almost as pretty as our Casco Bay," said Dotty. "'Winona;' is that the +boat we are going in? But, Horace, you must cross to the other side, +where it says 'Gentlemen's Cabin.'" + +"How kind you are to take care of me! Wish you'd take as good care of +yourself, Cousin Dimple." + +And Horace walked straight into the "Ladies' Cabin." There were more men +in it, though, than women; so he had the best side of the argument. + +"Horace," said Aunt Madge, as they seated themselves, "where is your +money?" + +"Money? O, in the breast pocket of my coat." + +"But don't you remember, my boy, I advised you to leave it at home? See +that placard, right before your eyes." + +"'Beware of Pickpockets!'" read Horace. "Well, auntie, I intend to +beware." + +Mrs. Allen did not like his lord-of-creation tone. It was not exactly +disrespectful. He adored his aunt, and did not mean to snub her. At the +same time he had paid no attention to her advice, and his cool, +self-possessed way of setting it one side was very irritating. If Mrs. +Allen had not been the sweetest of women, she would have enjoyed boxing +his ears. + +"I wish he was two years younger, and then he would have to obey me," +thought she; "but I don't like to lay my commands on a boy of fourteen." + +The truth was, Horace had a large swelling on the top of his head, known +by the name of self-esteem; and it had got bruised a little the day +before, when he was obliged to stand one side, and let his aunt manage +about finding Flyaway. + +"I suppose she thinks I'm a ninny, just because I don't understand this +bothersome city; but I reckon I know a thing or two, if I don't live in +New York!" + +And the foolish boy really took some satisfaction in slapping his breast +pockets, and remarking to his friends,-- + +"'Twould take a smart chap to get his hand in there without my knowing +it. O, Prudy, where's your wallet? And yours, Dotty? I can carry them as +well as not. There's no knowing what kind of a muss you may be getting +into before night." + +Prudy gave up hers without a word, but Dotty demurred. + +"I guess I've got eyes both sides my head, just the same as Horace has, +if I am a girl." + +She and Cousin Horace usually agreed, but this visit had begun wrong. + +"Very well, Dot; if you think 'twould be any consolation to you to have +somebody come along with a pair of scissors, and snip off your pocket, I +don't know as it's any of my business." + +"See if they do," replied Dotty, clutching her pocket in her right hand. + +They had been speaking in loud tones, and perhaps had been overheard; +for two men, on the same seat, began to talk of the unusual number of +robberies that had happened within a few days and to wonder "what we +were coming to next." In consequence of this, Dotty pinned up her +pocket. When they reached Brooklyn, she gave her left hand to Horace, in +stepping off the boat, and walked up Fulton Street, with her right hand +firmly grasping the skirt of her dress. + +"Good for you, Dimple!" said Horace, in a low tone; "that's one way of +letting people know you've got money. Look behind you! There's been a +man following you for some time." + +"Where? O, where?" cried Dotty, whirling round and round in wild alarm; +"I don't see a man anywhere near." + +"And there isn't one to be seen," said Aunt Madge, laughing; "there's +nobody following you but Horace himself. He had no right to frighten you +so." + +"Horace!" echoed Dotty, with infinite scorn; "I don't call _him_ a man! +He's nothing but a small boy!" + +"A small boy!" She had finished the business now. + +"The hateful young monkey!" thought Horace. "I shouldn't care much if +she did have her pocket picked." + +If he had meant a word of this, which he certainly did not, he was well +paid for it afterwards. + +They went to Greenwood Cemetery, which Dotty had to confess was +handsomer than the one in Portland. Fly thought there were nice places +to "hide ahind the little white houses," which frightened her brother so +much, that he carried her in his arms every step of the way. After +strolling for some time about Greenwood, and taking a peep at Prospect +Park, they left the "city of churches," and entered a crowded car to go +back to the ferry. + +"Look out for _our_ money," whispered Prudy; "you know auntie says a car +is the very place to lose it in." + +"Yes; I'll look out for your pile, Prue, though I dare say you don't +feel quite so easy about it as you would if Dot had it." + +"Wow, Horace, don't be cross; you know it isn't often I have so much +money." + +Aunt Madge here gave both the children a very expressive glance, as much +as to say,-- + +"Don't mention private affairs in such a crowd." + +Colonel Allen said if his wife had been born deaf and dumb nobody would +have mistrusted it, for she could talk with her eyes as well as other +people with their tongues. + +When they were on the New York side once more, Mrs. Allen said,-- + +"Now I will take you through Dotty's hen-houses. What have we here? O, +Christmas greens." + +A woman stood at one of the stands, tying holly and evergreens together +into long strips, which she sold by the yard. + +"We must adorn the house, children. I will buy some of this, if you will +help carry it home." + +"Load me down," said Horace; "I'll take a mile of it." + +"Loaden me down, too; _I'll_ take it a mile," said Fly. + +"Give me that beautiful cross to carry, auntie." + +"Are you willing to carry crosses, Prudy? Ah, you've learned the lesson +young!" + +"I like the star best," said Dotty; "why can't they make suns and moons, +too!" + +"Will you have a _hanker_, my pretty miss?" said the woman, dropping a +courtesy. + +"I never heard of a _hanker_; it looks some like a kettle-hook. Let's +buy it; see how nicely it fits on Fly's shoulder." + +"It would look better for Fly to sit on the anchor," said Mrs. Allen, +smiling. "It is droll enough to see such a big thing walking off with a +little girl under it. Come, children, we have bought all we can carry." + +"Thank you kindly, lady," said the evergreen woman, with another +courtesy. + +"I don't see why she need thank you kindly, auntie," said Dotty. "You +wouldn't have bought her wreaths if you hadn't liked 'em." + +They walked through a long space lined with such nice things that the +children's mouths watered--oranges, figs, grapes, pears, French +chestnuts larger than oil-nuts, and, as if that were not enough, +delicious-looking pies, cakes, cold ham, and doughnuts. On little +charcoal stoves stood coffee-pots; and there was a great clattering of +plates and cups and saucers, which men were washing in little pans, and +wiping on rather dark towels. + +"It strikes me I should enjoy going into one of those cuddy-holes and +eating my dinner," said Horace. "I feel about starved." + +"You have a right to be hungry. It is two o'clock. How would you like +some oysters? In here is a large room, with tables; rather more +comfortable than these 'cuddy-holes,' as you call them." + +"Only not nice," said Prudy. "O, Horace, if you should go once to an +oyster saloon in Boston, you'd see the difference!" + +"The probability is, I've been in Boston saloons twice to your once, +ma'am." + +Which was correct. She had been once, and he twice. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +"GRANNY." + + +Aunt Madge seated her four guests at a little table. + +"Will you have oysters or scallops?" + +"What are scallops?" + +"They are a sort of fish; taste a little like oysters. They come out of +those small shells, such as you've seen pin-cushions made of." + +The children thought they should prefer oysters; and after the stews +were ordered, Mrs. Allen went out, and soon returned with a dessert of +cake, pie, and fruit. + +"I thought I would bring it all at once," said she, "just what I know +you will like; and then sit down and be comfortable. We'll lay the +wreaths under the table. There are no napkins, girls (this isn't Boston, +you know); so you'd better tuck your handkerchiefs under your chins." + +"But is this the handsomest place they've got in New York, without any +carpet to it?" whispered Dotty. + +"We'll see, one of these days," replied auntie, with a smile that spoke +volumes. + +It was a very jolly dinner, and Mrs. Allen had to send for three plates +of scallops; for the children found, after tasting hers, that they were +very nice; all but Fly, who did not relish them, and thought it was +because she did not like to eat pin-cushions. + +"Now, little folks, if you have eaten sufficiently, and are thoroughly +rested, shall we start for home? I think a journey to Brooklyn is about +enough for one day--don't you? But you musn't leave without seeing +Granny." + +"Granny?" + +"Yes, I call her so, and it pleases her. She has had a little table in +the market for a long while, and I like to buy some of her goodies just +to encourage her, for she has such a way of looking on the bright side +that she wins my respect. Listen, now, while I speak to her." + +Auntie's old woman had on a hood and shawl, and was curled up in a +little heap, half asleep. + +"Pleasant day," said Mrs. Allen, going up to the table. + +"Yes, mum; nice weather _underful_," returned the old woman, rousing +herself, and rubbing an apple with her shawl. + +"And how do you do, Granny?" + +"Why, is that you?" said she, the sun coming out all over her face. +"And how've you been, mum, since the last time I've seen yer?" + +"Very well, Granny; and how do things prosper with you?" + +"O, _I'm_ all right! I've had a touch of rheumaty, and this is the fust +I've stirred for two weeks." + +"Sorry to hear it, Granny. Rheumatism can't be very comfortable." + +"Well, no; it's bahd for the jints," said the old woman, holding up her +fingers, which were as shapeless as knobby potatoes. + +"Poor Granny! How hard that is!" + +"Well, they be hard, and kind o' stiff-like. But bless ye," laughed she, +"that's nothing. I wouldn't 'a' cared, only I's afeared I'd lose this +stand. There was a gyurl come and kep' it for me, what time she could +spare." + +"I'm glad you havn't lost the stand, Granny; but I don't see how you can +laugh at the rheumatism." + +"Well, mum, what'd be the use to cry? Why, bless ye, there's wus +things'n that! As long's I hain't got no husband, I don't feel to +complain!" + +She shook her sides so heartily at this, that Fly laughed aloud. + +"So you don't approve of husbands, Granny?" + +"No more I don't, mum; they're troublesome craychers, so fur as I've +seen." + +"But don't you get down-hearted, living all alone?" + +"O, no, mum; I do suppose I'm the happiest woman in the city o' New +Yorruk. When I goes to bed, I just gives up all my thrubbles to the +Lord, and goes to sleep." + +"But when you are sick, Granny?" + +"O, then, sometimes I feels bahd, not to be airnin' nothin', and gets +some afeard o' the poorhouse; but, bless ye, I can't help thinking the +Lord'll keep me out." + +"I'm pretty sure He will," said Aunt Madge, resolving on the spot that +the good old soul never should go to a place she dreaded so much. "Have +you any butter-scotch to-day, Granny?" + +"O, yes, mum; sights of it. Help yourself. I want to tell you +something'll please you," said the old woman, bending forward, and +speaking in a low tone, and with sparkling eyes. "I've put some money in +the bank, mum; enough to bury me! _Ain't_ that good!" + +Prudy and Dotty were terribly shocked. She must be crazy to talk about +her own funeral. As if she was glad of it, too? But Horace thought it a +capital joke. + +"That's a jolly way to use your money," whispered he to Prudy; "much +good may it do her?" And then aloud, in a patronizing tone, "I'll take a +few of your apples, Granny. How do you sell 'em?" + +"These here, a penny apiece; them there, two pennies; and them, three." + +Horace felt in his coat pocket for his purse; and drew out his hand +quickly, as if a bee had stung it. + +"Why, what! What does this mean?" + +"What is it, Horace?" + +"Nothing, auntie, only my wallet's gone," replied the boy, very white +about the mouth. + +"Gone? Look again. Are you sure?" + +"Yes, as sure as I want to be?" + +"Mine,--is mine gone too?" cried Prudy. + +Horace did not seem willing to answer. + +"Where did you have your purse last?" + +"Just before we came out of Dorlon's oyster saloon. Just before we came +here for butter-scotch," replied Horace, glaring fiercely at Granny. + +"Are you quite sure?" + +"Is mine gone, too?" cried Prudy again. "Did you put mine in the same +pocket?" + +"Yes, Prue; I put yours in the same pocket; and it's gone, too." + +"O, Horace!" + +"A pretty clean sweep, Prue." + +"The _vilyins_!" cried Granny; looking, auntie thought, as if her whole +soul was stirred with pity for the children; but, as Horace thought, as +if she were trying to put a bold face on a very black crime. + +"Let us go back to Dorlon's, and ask the waiters if you dropped it in +there," suggested Aunt Madge. + +"Yes, but _I know I didn't,"_ said Horace, with another scowl at Granny. + +"_My_ money is safe," said self-righteous Dotty, as they walked away; +"don't you wish you _had_ given yours to me, Prudy?" + +"The deceitful old witch!" muttered Horace; meaning Granny, of course. + +And lo, there she stood close behind them! She was beckoning Mrs. Allen +back to her fruit-stand. + +"Wait here one minute, children; I'll be right back." + +"Nothin', mum," said Granny, looking very much grieved; "nothin' only I +wants to say, mum, if that youngster thinks as I took his money, I wisht +you'd sarch me." + +"Fie, Granny! Never mind what a boy like that says, when he is excited. +I know you too well to think you'd steal." + +"The Lord bless you, mum," cried the old woman, all smiles again. + +"And, Granny, I mean to come here next week, and I'll bring you some +flannel and liniment for your rheumatism. Where shall I leave them if +you're sick, and can't be here?" + +"O, thank ye, mum; thank ye kindly. The ain't many o' the likes of you, +mum. And if ye does bring the things for my rheumaty, and I ain't here, +just ye leave 'em with the gyurl at this stand, if yer will." + +"Did she give it back?" cried Horace, the moment his aunt appeared. + +"No, my boy; how could she when she hadn't it to give?" + +"But, auntie, I'm up and down sure I felt that wallet in my +breast-pocket, when we came out of Dorlon's," persisted Horace. "I don't +see how on earth that old woman contrived it; but I can't help +remembering how she kept leaning forward when she talked; and once she +hit square against me. And just about that time I was drawing out my +handkerchief to wipe my nose." + +"Yes, he did! He wiped his nose. And the woman tookened the money; I saw +her do it." + +"There, I told you so!" + +"You saw her, Miss Policeman Flyaway?" said Aunt Madge. "And pray how +did she take it?" + +"Just so,--right in her hand." + +"O, you mean the money for the butter-scotch, you little tease!" + +"Yes," replied the child, with a roguish twinkle over the sensation she +had made. + +"Just like little bits o' flies," said Dotty. "Don't care how folks +feel. And here's her brother ready to cry; heart all broken." + +"Needn't be concerned about my heart, Dot; 'tisn't broken yet; only +cracked. But how anybody could get at my pocket, without my knowing it, +is a mystery to me, unless Granny is a witch." + +"Horace, I pledge you my word Granny is innocent." + +"And I'm sure nobody else could take it, auntie. The clerks at Dorlon's +had no knowledge of the money; neither had any of the apple or pie +merchants along the market. Things look darker for us, Prue; but I will +give you the credit of behaving like a lady. And one thing is sure--the +moment I get home to Indiana I shall send you back your money." + +"Horace," said Aunt Madge, "I am very suspicious that you lost your +purse in one of those cars, on the Brooklyn side." + +"But, auntie, I tell you there couldn't anybody get at my pockets +without my knowing it!" + +"Just as Prudy told you you would, you lost it in that car," echoed +Dotty. "Don't you remember what you said, Prudy?" + +"That's right; hit him again," growled Horace. + +"Now, Dotty," said Prudy, suppressing a great sob in her effort to +"behave like a lady," "what's the use? Don't you suppose Horace feels +bad enough without being scolded at?" + +"Auntie don't scold, nor Prudy don't, 'cause he didn't mean to lose +it," said Fly, frowning at Dotty, and caressing Horace, with her hands +full of evergreens. + +"Besides, he has lost more than I have," continued Prudy. + +"Well, a trifle more! Fifty times as much, say. I shouldn't care a +fig,--speaking figuratively,--only it was all I had to get home with." + +"Don't fret about that," said Aunt Madge; "I'll see that you go home +with as full a purse as you brought to my house." + +"O, auntie, how can I thank you? But you know father never would allow +that!" + +"I could tell you how to thank me," thought Mrs. Allen, though she was +so kind she would _not_ tell; "you could thank me by saying, 'Auntie, +I've been a naughty boy.'" + +But Horace had no idea of making such a confession as that. "The +money'll come up," said he; "I'm one of the lucky kind. Let's see; +wouldn't it be best to advertise?" + +"Thieves won't answer advertisements," said Mrs. Allen. + +"But, I tell you, auntie, I dropped that wallet. I could take my oath of +it." + +"Well, in such a case an advertisement is the proper thing. But, my boy, +your positiveness on this subject is extraordinary. How could you drop +the wallet? Do you keep it in the same pocket with your handkerchief?" + +"On, no, auntie; right in here." + +"And you haven't bought anything?" + +"No, auntie; you wouldn't let me pay the car fare, or anything else. But +still I must have taken out the wallet by mistake. You see I _know_ +nobody's picked my pockets." + +"Why, Horace, you just said Granny picked 'em." + +"No, Dot, I didn't! I only spoke of the queer way she had of leaning +forward." + +"But you scowled at her sharp enough to take head off." + +"If I were you, Dot, I wouldn't be any more disagreeable than I was +absolutely obliged to.--Now, auntie, how much does it cost to +advertise?" + +"A dollar or so I believe." + +"Well, if you'll lend me the money, I want to do it." + +"To be plain with you, Horace, I really do not think it will be of the +slightest use in this case; but I will consent to it if it will be any +relief to your mind. We shall be obliged to cross the ferry again, for +the advertisement ought to go into a Brooklyn paper." + +"We are tired enough to drop," said Dotty; "and all these stars and +things, too!" + +"Yes, we are all tired; but we will leave you little girls at the +ferry-house on the other side." + +"But, auntie," said Prudy, anxiously, "I shouldn't really dare have the +care of Fly. You know just how it is." + +"Yes, I do know just how it is. Fly must walk, with her tired little +feet, to the Eagle office, with Horace and me; or else she must make a +solemn promise not to go out of the ferry-house." + +"But I don't want to make a _solomon_ promise, auntie; I want to see the +eagle." + +Mrs. Allen sighed. She began to think she had undertaken a great task +in inviting these children to visit her. Instead of a pleasure, they had +proved, thus far, a weariness--always excepting Prudy. She, dear, +self-forgetting little girl, could not fail to be a comfort wherever she +went. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +THE PUMPKIN HOOD. + + +To the "Eagle" office they went--obstinate Horace, patient Annt Madge, +and between them the "blue-bottle Fly." + +"I do feel right sorry, auntie," said Horace, a sudden sense of shame +coming over him; "but I'm so sure I dropped the money, you know; or I +wouldn't drag you up this hill when you're so tired." + +A sharp answer rose to Mrs. Allen's lips, but she held it back. + +"Only a boy! In a fair way to learn a useful lesson, too. Let me keep my +temper! If I scold, I spoil the whole." + +They entered the office, and left with the editor this advertisement:-- + +"Lost.--Between Prospect Park and Fulton Ferry, a porte-monnaie, marked +'Horace S. Clifford,' containing thirty-five dollars. The finder will be +suitably rewarded by leaving the same at No. ----, Cor. Fifth Ave. and +---- Street." + +"It is no matter about advertising Prudy's purse, it was so shabby," +said Aunt Madge; and on their way back to the ferry-house she bought her +another. + +"O, thank you, auntie, darling," said Prudy; "and thank you, too, +Horace, for losing my old one; it wasn't fit to be seen. And here is a +whole dollar inside! O, Aunt Madge, _are_ you an angel?" + +"Prue, you deserve your good luck; you don't come down on a fellow, +hammer and tongs, because he happens to meet with an accident." + +"Horace," said Dotty, meekly, "are you willing to carry my gloves?" + +"Yes, to be sure; but you don't want to go home bare-handed--do you?" + +"Why, I was thinking how nice 'twould be, Horace, to have you take 'em, +and lose 'em, and me have a new pair. There's a hole in the thumb." + +This little sally amused everybody, and Horace had the grace not to be +sensitive, though the laugh was against him. + +"Another queer day," said he, when they were at last at home again. "I +don't know what will become of us all, if we keep on like this." + +The poor boy was trying his best to brave it out; but Aunt Madge could +see that his heart was sore. + +"Lost every cent I'm worth," mused he, turning his coat-pocket inside +out, and scowling at it. "Got to be a beggar as long as I stay in New +York!" + +The whole party were tired, and Horace's gloom seemed to fill the parlor +like a fog, and make even the gas look dim. + +"I feel dreffly," said Fly, curling her head under her brother's arm, +like a chicken under its mother's wing--a way she had when she was +troubled. "I feel just zif I didn't love nobody in the world, and there +didn't nobody love me." + +This brought Horace around in a minute, and called forth a pickaback +ride. + +"Music! let us have music," said Aunt Madge, flying to the piano. "When +little folks grow so cold-hearted, in my house, that they don't love +anybody, it's time to warm their hearts with some happy little songs. +Come, girls!" + +She played a few simple tunes, and the children all sang till the fog +of gloom had disappeared, and the gas burned brightly once more. + +Half an hour afterwards, just as Fly was told she ought to be sleepy, +because her bye-low hymn had been sung,--"Sleep, little one, like a lamb +in the fold,"--and she had answered that she "couldn't be sleepy, athout +auntie would hurry quick to come in with a drink of water," there was a +strange arrival. Nathaniel, the waiting man, ushered into the parlor a +droll little old woman, dressed in a short calico gown, with gay figures +over it as large as cabbages; calf-skin shoes; and a green pumpkin hood, +with a bow on top. + +"Good evening, ma'am," said Horace, rising, and offering her a chair. +She did not seem to see very well, in spite of her enormous spectacles; +for she took no notice of the chair, and remained standing in the +middle of the floor. + +[Illustration: THE PUMPKIN HOOD.] + +"She stares at me so hard!" thought Horace--"that's the reason she can't +see anything else."--"Please take a chair, ma'am." + +"Can't stop to sit down. Is your name Horace S. Clifford?" said the old +woman, in a very feeble voice. + +Horace looked at her; she had not a tooth in her head. + +"Yes, ma'am; my name is Horace Clifford," said he, respectfully. He had +great reverence for age, and could keep his mouth from twitching; but +I'm sorry to say Prudy's danced up at the corners, and Dotty's opened +and showed her back teeth The woman must have had all those clothes made +when she was young, for nobody wore such things now; but it wasn't +likely she knew that, poor soul! + +"Did you go to the 'Brooklyn Eagle' office, to-day, to ad-_ver_-tise +some lost money, little boy?" + +"Yes, ma'am.--Why, that advertisement can't have been printed _so_ +quick!" + +"No, I calculate not. Did you go in with a lady, and a leetle, oneasy, +springy kind of a leetle girl?" + +"Why, that's me," put in Fly. + +"Yes, ma'am--yes; were you there? What do you know about it?" + +"Don't be in a hurry, little boy. I want to be safe and sure. I expect +you took notice of a young man in a bottle-green coat,--no, a +greenish-black coat,--a-sittin' down by the door." + +"O, I don't know. Yes, I think I did. Was he the one? Did he find the +money?" + +"Did you walk up Orange Street?" continued the old woman. "No, I mean +Cranberry Street?" + +"O, _dear_, I don't know! Prudy, run, call Aunt Madge. Please tell me, +ma'am, have you got it with you? Is my name on the inside?" + +"Wait till the little girl calls your aunt. Perhaps she'd be willing to +let me tell the story in my own way. I'd ruther deal with grown folks," +said the provoking old lady. + +Horace's eyes flashed, but he contrived to keep his temper. + +"It is my purse, ma'am, and my aunt knows nothing about it. I can tell +you just how it looks, and all there is in it." + +"Perhaps you are one of the kind that can tell folks a good deal, and +thinks nobody knows things so well as yourself," returned the +disagreeable old woman, smiling and showing her toothless gums. "From +what I can learn, I should judge you talked ruther too loud about your +money; for there was a pusson heerd you in the ferry-boat, and took +pains to go in the same car afterwards, and pick your pocket." + +"Pick--my--pocket?" + +"Yes, your pocket. You wise, wonderful young man!" + +"How? When? Where?" + +"This is how," said the old woman, quick as a thought putting out her +hand, and thrusting it into Horace's breast pocket. + +"O, it's auntie's rings--it's auntie's rings," cried Fly, jumping up, +and seizing the pretended old woman by her calico sleeve. + +"Why, Aunt Madge, that isn't you!" + +"But how'd you take out yer teeth?" said Fly; "your teeth? your teeth?" + +"O, I didn't take them out, Miss Bright-eyes. I only put a little spruce +gum over them." + +"Horace, I can't find auntie anywhere in this house," said Prudy, +appearing at the parlor door. "Do you suppose she's gone off and hid?" + +"Yes, she's hid inside that old gown." + +"What do you mean?" + +"That's auntie, and her teeth's _in_," explained Fly. + +"Only I wish she was an old woman, and had really brought me my money," +said Horace, in a disappointed tone. "I declare, there was one time I +thought the old nuisance was coming round to it, and going to give me +the wallet." + +"What a wise, wonderful youth!" said the aged dame, in a cracked voice. +"Thinks I can give him his wallet, when he's got it himself, right close +to his heart." + +Horace put his hand in his breast pocket. + +Wonder of wonders! There was the wallet! And not only his, but Prudy's! +Had he been asleep all day? Or was he asleep now? + +"Money safe? Not a cent gone. Hoo-rah! Hoo-ra-ah!" + +And for want of a cap to throw, he threw up Fly. + +"Where did it come from? Where did the old woman find it? O, no; the man +in the green-bottle coat?--O, no; there wasn't any old woman," cried the +children, hopelessly confused. "But who found the money? Did I drop it +on Cranberry Street?" "Did he drop it on Quamby Street?" "Who brought +it?" "Who bringed it?" + +Aunt Madge stuffed her fingers into her ears. "They are all talking at +once; they're enough to craze a body! They forget how old I am! Came all +the way from the Eagle office, afoot and alone, with only four children +to--" + +"O, auntie, don't play any more! Talk sober! Talk honest! Did Horace +have his pockets picked?" + +"Yes, he did," replied Aunt Madge, speaking in her natural tones, and +throwing off the pumpkin hood; "if you want the truth, he did." + +"Why Aunt Madge Allen! It does not seem possible! Who picked my +pockets?" + +"Some one who heard you talking so loud about your money." + +"But how could it be taken out, and I not know it?" + +"Quite as easily as it could be put back, and you not know it." + +"That's true, Horace Clifford! Auntie put it back, and you never knew +it." + +"So she did," said Horace, looking as bewildered as if he had been +whirling around with his eyes shut; "so she did--didn't she? But that +was because I was taken by surprise, seeing her without a tooth in her +head, you know." + +"You have been taken by surprise twice to-day, then," said Aunt Madge, +demurely. "It is really refreshing, Horace, to find that such a sharp +young man _can_ be caught napping!" + +"Well, I--I--I must have been thinking, of something else, auntie." + +"So I conclude. And you must be thinking of something else still, or +you'd ask me--" + +"O, yes, auntie; how did the thief happen to give it up? There, there, +you needn't say a word! I see it all in your eyes! You took the money +yourself. O, Aunt Madge!" + +"Well, if that wasn't queer doings!" cried Dotty. + +"Yes, it is quite contrary to my usual habits. I never robbed anybody +before. I hadn't the faintest idea I could do it without Horace's +knowledge." + +"Why, auntie, I never was so astonished in my life!" said the youth, +looking greatly confused. + +"I never heard of a person's being robbed that wasn't astonished," said +Aunt Madge, with a mischievous smile. "Will you be quite as sure of +yourself another time, think?" + +"No, auntie, I shan't; that's a fact." + +"That's my good, frank boy," said Aunt Madge, kissing his forehead. "And +he won't toss his head,--just this way,--like a young lord of creation, +when meddlesome aunties venture to give him advice." + +Horace kissed Mrs. Allen's cheek rather thoughtfully, by way of reply. + +"I don't see, Aunt Madge," said Prudy, "why you went back across the +river to put that piece in the paper, when you were the one that had the +money all the time." + +"I did it to pacify Horace. He _knew_ his pockets hadn't been pieked. +Besides I felt guilty. It was rather cruel in me--wasn't it?--to let him +suffer so long." + +"Not cruel a bit; good enough for me," cried Horace, with a generous +outburst. "You're just the jolliest woman, auntie--the jolliest woman! +There you are; you look so little and sweet! But if folks think they're +going to get ahead of you, why, just let 'em try it, say I!" + + +DEAR READERS: Horace was scarcely more astonished, when his pocket was +picked, than I am this minute, to find myself at the end of my book! I +had very much more to tell; but now it must wait till another time. + +Meanwhile the Parlins and Cliffords are "climbing the dream tree." Let +us hope they are destined to meet with no more misfortunes during the +rest of their stay in New York. + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Little Folks Astray +by Sophia May (Rebecca Sophia Clarke) + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LITTLE FOLKS ASTRAY *** + +***** This file should be named 11257.txt or 11257.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/1/2/5/11257/ + +Produced by Steven desJardins and Distributed Proofreading + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Little Folks Astray + +Author: Sophia May (Rebecca Sophia Clarke) + +Release Date: February 24, 2004 [EBook #11257] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: US-ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LITTLE FOLKS ASTRAY *** + + + + +Produced by Steven desJardins and Distributed Proofreading + + + + + +</pre> + +<p> </p> +<h1>LITTLE FOLKS ASTRAY.</h1> +<h2>BY SOPHIE MAY </h2> +<p> </p> +<center> +"To give room for wandering is it<br /> +That the world was made so wide." +</center> +<p> </p> +<center> +1872 +</center> +<p> </p> +<center> +TO<br /> +<i>MY YOUNG FRIEND</i>,<br /> +EMMA ADAMS.<br /> +"JOHNNIE OPTIC." +</center> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<a name="RULE4_1"><!-- RULE4 1 --></a> +<p> </p> +<h2> + TO PARENTS. +</h2> + +<p> +Here come the Parlins and Cliffords again. They had been sent to bed and +nicely tucked in, but would not stay asleep. They "wanted to see the +company down stairs;" so they have dressed themselves, and come back to +the parlor. I trust you will pardon them, dear friends. Is it not a +common thing, in this degenerate age, for grown people to frown and +shake their heads, while little people do exactly as they please? +</p> +<p> +Well, one thing is certain: if these children insist upon sitting up, +they shall listen to lectures on self-will and disrespect to superiors, +which will make their ears tingle. +</p> +<p> +Moreover, they shall hear of other people, and not always of themselves. +Fly Clifford, who expects to be in the middle, will be somewhat +overwhelmed, like a fly in a cup of milk; for Grandma Read is to talk +her down with her Quaker speech, and Aunt Madge with her story of the +summer when she was a child. It is but fair that the elders should have +a voice. That they may speak words which shall come home to many little +hearts, and move them for good, is the earnest wish of +</p> +<center> +THE AUTHOR. +</center> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<hr> +<p> </p> +<a name="TOC"><!-- TOC --></a> +<h2> + CONTENTS. +</h2> +<p> </p> +<p> +<a href="#CH1">CHAPTER I.</a> — THE LETTER +</p> +<p> +<a href="#CH2">CHAPTER II.</a> — THE UNDERTAKING +</p> +<p> +<a href="#CH3">CHAPTER III.</a> — THE FROLIC +</p> +<p> +<a href="#CH4">CHAPTER IV.</a> — "TAKING OUR AIRS" +</p> +<p> +<a href="#CH5">CHAPTER V.</a> — DOTTY HAVING HER OWN WAY +</p> +<p> +<a href="#CH6">CHAPTER VI.</a> — DOTTY REBUKED +</p> +<p> +<a href="#CH7">CHAPTER VII.</a> — THE LOST FLY +</p> +<p> +<a href="#CH8">CHAPTER VIII.</a> — "THE FRECKLED DOG" +</p> +<p> +<a href="#CH9">CHAPTER IX.</a> — MARIA'S MOTHER +</p> +<p> +<a href="#CH10">CHAPTER X.</a> — FIVE MAKING A CALL +</p> +<p> +<a href="#CH11">CHAPTER XI.</a> — "THE HEN-HOUSES" +</p> +<p> +<a href="#CH12">CHAPTER XII.</a> — "GRANNY" +</p> +<p> +<a href="#CH13">CHAPTER XIII.</a> — THE PUMPKIN HOOD +</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<h2>Illustrations</h2> +<p> </p> +<p>1. <a href="#image-1"> +'I Camed Down when I Was a Baby.' +</a></p> +<p>2. <a href="#image-2"> +The Pumpkin Hood. +</a></p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<a name="RULE4_2"><!-- RULE4 2 --></a> +<h2> + LITTLE FOLKS ASTRAY. +</h2> + + + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="CH1"><!-- CH1 --></a> +<h2> + CHAPTER I. +</h2> + +<h3> +THE LETTER. +</h3><p> </p> +<p> +Katie Clifford sat on the floor, in the sun, feeding her white mice. She +had a tea-spoon and a cup of bread and milk in her hands. If she had +been their own mother she could not have smiled down on the little +creatures more sweetly. +</p> +<p> +"'Cause I spect they's hungry, and that's why I'm goin' to give 'em +sumpin' to eat. Shut your moufs and open your eyes," said she, waving +the tea-spoon, and spattering the bread and milk over their backs. +</p> +<p> +"Quee, quee," squeaked the little mice, very well pleased when a drop +happened to go into their mouths. +</p> +<p> +"What are you doing there, Miss Topknot," said Horace: "O, I see; +catching rats." +</p> +<p> +Flyaway frowned fearfully, and the tuft of hair atop of her head danced +like a war-plume. +</p> +<p> +"I shouldn't think folks would call 'em names, Hollis, when they never +did a thing to you. Nothing but clean white mouses!" +</p> +<p> +"Let's see; now I look at 'em, Topknot, they <i>are</i> white. And what's all +this paper?" +</p> +<p> +"Bed-kilts." +</p> +<p> +"<i>In</i>-deed?" +</p> +<p> +"You knew it by-fore!" +</p> +<p> +"One, two, three; I thought the doctor gave you five. Where are they +gone?" +</p> +<p> +"Well, there hasn't but two died; the rest'll live," said Fly, swinging +one of them around by its tail, as if it had been a tame cherry. +</p> +<p> +Just then Grace came and stood in the parlor doorway. +</p> +<p> +"O, fie!" said she; "what work! Ma doesn't allow that cage in the +parlor. You just carry it out, Fly Clifford." +</p> +<p> +Miss Thistledown Flyaway looked up at her sister shyly, out of the +corners of her eyes. Grace was now a beautiful young lady of sixteen, +and almost as tall as her mother. Flyaway adored her, but there was a +growing doubt in her mind whether sister Grace had a right to use the +tone of command. +</p> +<p> +"'Cause I spect she isn't my mamma." +</p> +<p> +"Why, Fly, you haven't started yet!" +</p> +<p> +"I didn't think 'twas best," responded the child, sulkily, fixing her +eyes on the mice, who were dancing whirligigs round the wheel. +</p> +<p> +"Come here to your best friend, little Topknot," said Horace. "Let's +take that cage into the green-house, and ask papa to keep it there, +because the mice look like water-lilies on long stems." +</p> +<p> +Flyaway brightened at once. She knew water-lilies were lovely. Giving +Grace a triumphant glance, she danced across the room, and put the cage +in Horace's hands, with a smile of trusting love that thrilled his +heart. +</p> +<p> +"Hollis laughs at my mouses, but he don't say, 'Put 'em away,' and, +'<i>Put</i> 'em away;' he says, 'Little gee-urls wants to see things as much +as anybody else,'" thought she, gratefully. +</p> +<p> +"Horace," said Grace, with a curling lip, "that child is growing up +just like you—fond of worms, and bugs, and all such disgusting things." +</p> +<p> +Horace smiled. No matter for the scorn in Grace's tone; it pleased him +to be compared in any way with his precious little Flyaway. +</p> +<p> +"Topknot has a spark of sense," said he, leading her along to the +green-house. "I'll bring her up not to scream at a spider." +</p> +<p> +"Now, young lady," said he, setting the cage on the shelf beside a +camellia, and speaking in a low voice, though they were quite alone, +"<i>can</i> you keep a secret?" +</p> +<p> +"Course I can; What <i>is</i> a <i>secrid</i>?" +</p> +<p> +"Why, it's something you musn't ever tell, Topknot, not to anybody that +lives." +</p> +<p> +"Then I won't, <i>cerdily</i>,—not to mamma, nor papa, nor Gracie." +</p> +<p> +"Nor anybody else?" +</p> +<p> +"No; course not. <i>Whobody</i> else could I? O, 'cept Phibby. There, now, +what's the name of it." +</p> +<p> +"The name of it is—a secret, and the secret is this—Sure you won't +tell any single body, Topknot?" +</p> +<p> +"No; I said, <i>whobody</i> could I tell? O, 'cept Tinka! There now!" +</p> +<p> +"Well, the secret is this," said Horace, laying his forefingers +together, and speaking very slowly, in order to prolong the immense +delight he felt in watching the little one's eager face. "You know +you've got an aunt Madge?" +</p> +<p> +"Yes; so've you, too." +</p> +<p> +"And she lives in the city of New York." +</p> +<p> +"Does she? When'd she go?" +</p> +<p> +"Why, she has always lived there; ever since she was married." +</p> +<p> +"O, yes; and uncle Gustus was married, too; they was both married. Is +that all?" +</p> +<p> +"And she thinks you and I are 'cute chicks, and wants us to go and see +her." +</p> +<p> +"Well, course she does; I knew that before," said Fly, turning away with +indifference; "I did go with mamma." +</p> +<p> +"O, but she means now, Topknot; this very Christmas. She said it in a +letter." +</p> +<p> +"Does she truly?" said Fly, beginning to look pleased. "But it can't be +a <i>secrid</i>, though," added she, next moment, sadly, "'cause we can't go, +Hollis." +</p> +<p> +"But I really think we shall go, Topknot; that is, if you don't spoil +the whole by telling." +</p> +<p> +"O, I cerdily won't tell!" said Fly, fluttering all over with a sense of +importance, like a kitten with its first mouse. +</p> +<p> +The breakfast bell rang; and, with many a word of warning, Horace led +his little sister into the dining-room. +</p> +<p> +"Papa," said she, the moment she was established in her high chair, "I +know sumpin'." +</p> +<p> +"O, Topknot!" cried Horace. +</p> +<p> +"I know Hollis has got his elbows on the table. There, now, <i>did</i> I +tell?" +</p> +<p> +"Hu—sh, Topknot!" +</p> +<p> +There was a quiet moment while Mr. Clifford said grace. +</p> +<p> +"Hollis," whispered Katie immediately afterwards, "will I take my +mouses?" +</p> +<p> +"'Sh, Topknot!" +</p> +<p> +"What's going on there between you and Horace?" laughed Grace. +</p> +<p> +"A <i>secrid</i>," said Fly, nipping her little lips together. "You won't get +me to tell." +</p> +<p> +"Horace," exclaimed Mrs. Clifford, "you haven't—" +</p> +<p> +"Why, mother, I thought it was all settled, and wouldn't do any harm; +and it pleases her so!" +</p> +<p> +"Well, my son, you've made a hard day's work for me," said Mrs. +Clifford, smiling behind her coffee-cup, as eager little Katie swayed +back and forth in her high chair. +</p> +<p> +"You won't get me to tell, Gracie Clifford. She don't want nobody but +Hollis and me; she thinks we're very 'cute." +</p> +<p> +"Who? O, Aunt Louise, probably." +</p> +<p> +"No, aunt Louise never! It's the auntie that lives to New York." +</p> +<p> +"Sh, Topknot!" +</p> +<p> +"Well, I didn't tell, Hollis Clifford!" +</p> +<p> +"So you didn't," said Grace. "But wouldn't it be nice if somebody should +ask you to go somewhere to spend Christmas?" +</p> +<p> +"Well, <i>there is</i>!" +</p> +<p> +"O, Topknot," cried Horace, in mock distress, "you said you could keep +a secret." +</p> +<p> +Flyaway looked frightened. +</p> +<p> +"What'd I do?" cried she; "I didn't tell nuffin 'bout the letter!" +</p> +<p> +This last speech set everybody to laughing; and the little tell-tale +looked around from one to another with a face full of innocent wonder. +They couldn't be laughing at <i>her</i>! +</p> +<p> +"I can keep secrids," said she, with dignity. "It was what I was +a-doin'." +</p> +<p> +"It is your brother Horace who cannot be trusted to keep secrets," said +Mrs. Clifford, taking a letter from her pocket. "Hear, now, what your +Aunt Madge has written: 'Will you lend me your children for the +holidays, Maria? I want all three; at any rate, two.'" +</p> +<p> +"That's me," cried Flyaway, tipping over her white coffee; "'<i>tenny +rate two</i>,' means me." +</p> +<p> +"Don't interrupt me, dear. 'Brother Edward has promised me Prudy and +Dotty Dimple. They may have a Santa Claus, or whatever they like. I +shall devote myself to making them happy, and I am sure there are plenty +of things in New York to amuse them. Horace must come without fail; for +the little girl-cousins always depend so much upon him.'" +</p> +<p> +A smile rose to Horace's mouth; but he rubbed it off with his napkin. It +was his boast that he was above being flattered. +</p> +<p> +"But why not have Grace go, too, to keep them steady?" said Mr. +Clifford, bluntly. +</p> +<p> +Horace applied himself to his buckwheat cakes in silence, and looked +rather gloomy. +</p> +<p> +"Why, I suppose, Henry, it would hardly be safe to send Grace, on +account of her cough." +</p> +<p> +"I'm so sorry you asked Dr. De Bruler a word about it, mamma; but I +suppose I must submit," said Grace, with a face as cloudy as Horace's. +</p> +<p> +"Horace, my son, do you really feel equal to the task of taking this +tuft of feathers to New York?" +</p> +<p> +"I don't know why not, father; I'm willing to try." +</p> +<p> +"Horace has good courage," said Grace, shaking her auburn curls like so +many exclamation points. "I never could! I never would! I'd as soon have +the care of a flying squirrel!" +</p> +<p> +"Hollis never called me a <i>squirl</i>," said Fly, demurely. "I've got two +brothers, and one of 'em is an angel, and the other isn't; but Hollis +is <i>'most</i> as good as the one up in the sky." +</p> +<p> +"Well, my son," remarked Mr. Clifford, after a pause, "if your mother +gives her consent, I suppose I shall give mine; but it does not look +clear to me yet. One thing is certain, Horace; if you do undertake this +journey, you must live on the watch: you must sleep with both eyes open. +Don't trust the child out of your sight—not for a moment. Don't even +let go her hand on the street." +</p> +<p> +"I do believe Horace will be as careful as either you or I, Henry, or I +certainly wouldn't trust him with our last little darling," said Mrs. +Clifford. +</p> +<p> +His mother's words dropped like balm upon Horace's wounded spirit. He +looked up, and felt himself a man again. +</p> + + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="CH2"><!-- CH2 --></a> +<h2> + CHAPTER II. +</h2> + +<h3> +THE UNDERTAKING. +</h3><p> </p> +<p> +When Flyaway knew she was going to New York, it was about as easy to fit +her dresses as to clothe a buzzing blue-bottle fly. With spinning head +and dancing feet, she was set down, at last, in the cars. +</p> +<p> +"Here we are, all by ourselves, darling, starting off for Gotham. Wave +your handkerchief to mamma. Don't you see her kissing her hand? There, +you needn't spring out of the window! And I declare, Brown-brimmer, if +you haven't thrown away your handkerchief! Here, cry into mine!" +</p> +<p> +"I didn't want to cry, Hollis; I wanted to laugh," said the child, +wiping her eyes with her doll's cloak. "When you ride in carriages, you +don't get anywhere; but when you ride in the cars, you get there right +off." +</p> +<p> +"Yes; that's so, my dear. You are in the right of it, as you always are. +Now I am going to turn the seat over, and sit where I can look at +you—just so." +</p> +<p> +"O, that's just as splendid, Hollis! Now there's only me and Flipperty. +There, I put her 'pellent cloak on wrong; but see, now, I've +un-<i>wrong-side-outed</i> it! Don't she sit up like a lady?" +</p> +<p> +Her name was Flipperty Flop. She was a large jointed doll (not a doll +with large joints,) had seen a great deal of the world, and didn't think +much of it. She came of a high family, and had such blue blood in her +veins, that the ground wasn't good enough for her to walk on. She wore +a "'pellent cloak" and rubber boots, and had a shopping-bag on her arm +full of "choclid" cakes. She was nearly as large as her mother, and all +of two years older. A great deal had happened to her before her mother +was born, and a great deal more since. Sometimes it was dropsy, and she +had to be tapped, when pints of sawdust would run out. Sometimes it was +consumption, and she wasted to such a skeleton that she had to be +revived with cotton. She had lost her head more than once, but it never +affected her brains: she was all the better with a young head now and +then on her old shoulders. Her present ailment appeared to be small-pox; +she was badly pitted with pins and a penknife. "I declare I forgot to +get a ticket for her," said Horace. "What if the conductor shouldn't +let her pass?" +</p> +<p> +"O, Hollis, but he must?" cried Fly, springing to her feet; "<i>I</i> shan't +pass athout my Flipperty! Tell the 'ductor 'bout my white mouses died, +and I can't go athout sumpin to carry." +</p> +<p> +"Pshaw! Dotty Dimple don't carry dolls. She don't like 'em: sensible +girls never do." +</p> +<p> +"Well, <i>I</i> like 'em," said Flyaway, nothing daunted. "You knew it +byfore; 'n if you didn't want Flipperty, you'd ought to not come!" +</p> +<p> +Horace laughed, as he always did when his little sister tried her power +over him. The conductor was an old acquaintance, and he told him how it +stood with Flipperty, how she was needed at New York, and all that; +whereupon Mr. Van Dusen gave Fly a little green card, and told her to +keep it to show to all the conductors on the road; for it was a free +pass, and would take Flipperty all over the United States. +</p> +<p> +"Yes, sir, if you please," said Fly, with a blush and a smile, and put +the "free pass" in Miss Flop's cloak pocket. +</p> +<p> +After this, she never once failed to show it, whenever Mr. Van Dusen, or +any other conductor, came near, but always had to hunt for it, and once +brought up a cookie instead, which fearful mistake mortified her to the +depths of her soul. +</p> +<p> +Horace was sure all eyes were fixed on his charming little charge, and +was proud of the honor of showing her off; but he paid for it dearly; it +cost him more than his Latin, with all the irregular verbs. There was no +such thing as her being comfortable. She was full of care about him, +herself, and the baggage. Flipperty lost off a rubber boot, which +bounced over into the next seat. Horace had to ask a gentleman and his +sick daughter to move, and, after all, it was in an old lady's lap. +</p> +<p> +Then Fly's feet were cold, and Horace took her to the stove; but that +made her eyes too hot, and she danced back, to lie with her head on his +breast and her feet against the window, till she suddenly whirled +straight about, and planted her tiny boots under his chin. +</p> +<p> +"O, Topknot, Topknot, I pity that woman with the baby, if she feels as +lame all over as I do!" +</p> +<p> +"Where's the baby, Hollis? O, I see." +</p> +<p> +"What's the matter, now? Why upon earth can't you sit still, child?" +said Horace, next minute, catching her as she was darting into the +aisle, dragging Miss Flop by the hair of the head. +</p> +<p> +"O, Hollis, don't you see there's a dolly over there, with two girls and +a lady with red clo'es on? 'Haps they'd be willing for her to get +'quainted with Flipperty?" +</p> +<p> +"Well, Topknot, 'haps they would, but 'haps I wouldn't. I can't have you +dancing all over the car, in this style." +</p> +<p> +Flyaways's lip quivered, and a tear started. Horace was moved. One of +Fly's tears weighed a pound with him, even when it only wet her +eyelashes, and wasn't heavy enough to drop. +</p> +<p> +"Well, there, darling, you just sit still,—not still enough, though, to +give you a pain (Fly always said it gave her a pain to sit still),—and +I'll bring the girls and dollie over here to you. Will that do?" +</p> +<p> +Fly thought it would. +</p> +<p> +A dreadful fit of bashfulness came over Horace, when he stood face to +face with the black-eyed lady and her daughters, and tried to speak. +</p> +<p> +"I've got a little girl travelling with me, ma'am; she's so—so uneasy, +that I don't know what to do with her. Will you let me take—I mean, are +you willing—" +</p> +<p> +"Bring her over here, and we will try to amuse her," said the black-eyed +lady, pleasantly; but Horace was sure he saw the oldest girl laughing at +him. +</p> +<p> +"It's no fun to go and make a fool of yourself," thought he, leading Fly +to the new acquaintances, and standing by as she settled herself shyly +in the seat. +</p> +<p> +"How do you do, little one? What is your name?—<i>Flyaway</i>?—Well, you +look like it. We saw you were a darling, clear across the aisle. And you +have a kind brother, I know." +</p> +<p> +At these words Fly, for want of some answer to make, sprang forward and +kissed Horace on the bridge of the nose. +</p> +<p> +"There, you've knocked off my cap." +</p> +<p> +In stooping to pick it up, he awkwardly hit his head against the older +girl, who already looked so mischievous that he was rather afraid of +her. +</p> +<p> +"Wish I could get out of the way. She expects me to speak, but I shan't. +</p> +<pre> + "'Needles and pins, needles and pins, + When a man travels his trouble begins.'" +</pre> +<p> +Horace was obliged to stand, very ill at ease, till the black-eyed lady +had found out where he lived, who his father was, and what was his +mother's name before she was married. +</p> +<p> +"Tell your father, when you go home, you have seen Mrs. Bonnycastle, +formerly Ann Jones, and give him my regards. I knew he married a lady +from Maine." +</p> +<p> +"I know sumpin," struck in Fly; "if ever <i>I</i> marry anybody, I'll marry +my own brother Hollis. I mean if I don't be a ole maid!" +</p> +<p> +"And what is 'a ole maid,' you little witch?" +</p> +<p> +"I don' know; some folks is," was the wise reply. Flyaway was about to +add "Gampa Clifford," but did not feel well enough acquainted to talk of +family matters. +</p> +<p> +When the Bonnycastles left, at Cleveland, Horace thought that was the +last of them. Miss Gerty was "decent-looking, looked some like Cassy +Hallock; but he couldn't bear to see folks giggle; hoped he never should +set eyes on those people again." Whether he ever did, you shall hear one +of these days. +</p> +<p> +"O, Topknot," said he, "your hair looks like a mop. Do you want all +creation laughing at you? You'll mortify me to death." +</p> +<p> +"You ought to water it. If you don't take better care o' your little +sister, I won't never ride with you no more, Hollis Clifford!" +</p> +<p> +"Well, see that you don't, you little scarecrow," said the suffering +boy, out of all patience. "If you are going to act in New York as you +have on the road, I wish I was well out of this scrape." +</p> +<p> +Flyaway was really a sight to behold. How she managed to tear her dress +off the waist, and loose five boot buttons, and last, but not least, the +very hat she wore on her head, <i>would</i> have been a mystery if you hadn't +seen her run. +</p> +<p> +When they reached the city, Horace put the soft, flying locks in as +good order as he could, and tied them up in his handkerchief. +</p> +<p> +"I wisht I hadn't come," whined Fly; "I don't want to wear a hangerfiss; +'tisn't speckerble!" +</p> +<p> +"Hush right up! I'm not going to have you get cold!—My sorrows! Shan't +I be thankful when I get where there's a woman to take care of her?" +</p> +<p> +On the platform at the depot, aunt Madge, Prudy, and Dotty Dimple, were +waiting for them. A hearty laugh went the rounds, which Fly thought was +decidedly silly. Aunt Madge took the young travellers right into her +arms, and hugged them in her own cordial style, as if her heart had been +hungry for them for many a day. +</p> +<p> +"We're so glad!—for it did seem as if you'd never come," exclaimed +Dotty Dimple. +</p> +<p> +"And I'd like to know," said Horace, "how you happened to get here +first." +</p> +<p> +"O, we came by express—came yesterday." +</p> +<p> +"By 'spress?" cried Flyaway, pulling away from aunt Madge, who was +trying to pin her frock together; "<i>we</i> came by a 'ductor.—Why, where's +Flipperty's ticket?" +</p> +<p> +Horace seized Prudy with one hand, and Dotty Dimple with the other, +turning them round and round. +</p> +<p> +"I don't see anything of the express mark, 'Handle with care.' What has +become of it?" +</p> +<p> +"O, we were done up in brown paper," said Prudy, laughing, "and the +express mark was on that; but aunt Madge took it off as soon as she got +the packages home." +</p> +<p> +"Why, what a story, Prudy Parlin! We didn't have a speck of brown paper +round us. Just cloaks and hats with feathers in!" +</p> +<p> +Dotty spoke with some irritation. She had all along been rather +sensitive about being sent by express, and could not bear any allusion +to the subject. +</p> +<p> +"There, that's Miss Dimple herself. Let me shake hands with your +Dimpleship! Didn't come to New York to take a joke,—did you?" +</p> +<p> +"No, her Dimpleship came to New York to get warm," said Peacemaker +Prudy; "and so did I, too. You don't know how cold it is in Maine." +</p> +<p> +By this time they were rattling over the stones in their aunt's elegant +carriage. It was dusk; the lamps were lighted, the streets crowded with +people, the shops blazing with gay colors. +</p> +<p> +"I didn't come here to get warm, either," said Dotty, determined to +have the last word: "I was warm enough in Portland. I s'pose we've got a +furnace,—haven't we?—and a coal grate, too." +</p> +<p> +"I do hope Horace hasnt't got her started in a contrary fit," thought +Prudy; "I brought her all the way from home without her saying a cross +word." +</p> +<p> +But aunt Madge had a witch's broom, to sweep cobwebs out of the sky. +Putting her arm around Dotty, she said,— +</p> +<p> +"You all came to bring sunshine into my house; bless your happy hearts." +</p> +<p> +That cleared Dotty's sky, and she put up her lips for a kiss; while +Flyaway, with her "hangerfiss" on, danced about the carriage like a fly +in a bottle, kissing everybody, and Horace twice over. +</p> +<p> +"'Cause I spect we've got there. But, Hollis," said she, with the +comical shade of care which so often flitted across her little face, +"you never put the trunk in here. Now that 'ductor has gone and carried +off my nightie." +</p> + + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="CH3"><!-- CH3 --></a> +<h2> + CHAPTER III. +</h2> + +<h3> +THE FROLIC. +</h3><p> </p> +<p> +If Aunt Madge had dressed in linsey woolsey, with a checked apron on, +she would still have been lovely. A white rose is lovely even in a +cracked tea-cup. But Colonel Augustus Allen was a rich man, and his wife +could afford to dress elegantly. Horace followed her to-night with +admiring eyes. +</p> +<p> +"They say she isn't as handsome as Aunt Louise, but I know better; you +needn't tell me! Her eyes have got the real good twinkle, and that's +enough said." +</p> +<p> +Horace was like most boys; he mistook loveliness for beauty. Mrs. +Allen's small figure, gentle gray eyes, and fair curls made her seem +almost insignificant beside the splendid Louise; but Horace knew better; +you needn't tell <i>him</i>! +</p> +<p> +"Horace," said Aunt Madge, "your Uncle Augustus is gone, and that is one +reason, you know, why I begged for company during the holidays. You will +be the only gentleman in the house, and we ladies herewith put ourselves +under your protection. Will you accept the charge?" +</p> +<p> +"He needn't <i>pertect</i> ME," spoke up Miss Dimple, from the depths of an +easy-chair; "I can pertect myself." +</p> +<p> +"Don't mind going to the Museum alone, I suppose, and crossing ferries, +and riding in the Park, and being out after dark?" +</p> +<p> +"No; I'm not afraid of things," replied the strong-minded young lady; +"ask Prudy if I am. And my father lets me go in the horse-cars all over +Portland. That's since I travelled out west." +</p> +<p> +Here the bell sounded, and the only gentleman of the house gave his arm +to Mrs. Allen, to lead her out to what he supposed was supper, though he +soon found it went by the name of dinner. Neither he nor his young +cousins were accustomed to seeing so much silver and so many servants; +but they tried to appear as unconcerned as if it were an every-day +affair. Dotty afterwards said to Prudy and Horace, "I was 'stonished +when that man came to the back of my chair with the butter; but I said, +'<i>If</i> you please, sir,' just as if I 'spected it. <i>He</i> don't know but my +father's rich." +</p> +<p> +After dinner Fly's eyes drew together, and Prudy said,— +</p> +<p> +"O, darling, you don't know what's going to happen. Auntie said you +might sleep with Dotty and me to-night, right in the middle." +</p> +<p> +"O, dear!" drawled Flyaway; "when there's two abed, I sleep; but when +there's three abed, I open out my eyes, and can't." +</p> +<p> +"So you don't like to sleep with your cousins," said Dotty, "your dear +cousins, that came all the way from Portland to see you." +</p> +<p> +"Yes, I do," said Fly, quickly; "my eyes'll open out; but that's no +matter, 'cause I don't want to go to sleep; I'd ravver not." +</p> +<p> +They went up stairs, into a beautiful room, which aunt Madge had +arranged for them with two beds, to suit a whim of Dotty's. +</p> +<p> +"Now isn't this just splendid?" said Miss Dimple; "the carpet so soft +your boots go in like feathers; and then such pictures! Look, Fly! here +are two little girls out in a snow-storm, with an umbrella over 'em. +Aren't you glad it isn't you? And here are some squirrels, just as +natural as if they were eating grandpa's oilnuts. And see that pretty +lady with the kid, or the dog. Any way she is kissing him; and it was +all she had left out of the whole family, and she wanted to kiss +somebody." +</p> +<p> +"Yes," said aunt Madge. +</p> +<pre> + "'Her sole companion in a dearth + Of love upon a hopeless earth.' +</pre> +<p> +"If that makes you look so sober, children, I'm going to take it down. +Here, on this bracket, is the head of our blessed Saviour." +</p> +<p> +"O, I'm glad," said Fly. "He'll be right there, a-looking on, when we +say our prayers." +</p> +<p> +"Hear that creature talk!" whispered Dotty. +</p> +<p> +"And these things a-shinin' down over the bed: who's these?" said +Flyaway, dancing about the room, with "opened-out" eyes. +</p> +<p> +"Don't you know? That's Christ blessing little children," said Dotty, +gently. "I always know Him by the rainbow round His head." +</p> +<p> +"Aureole," corrected Aunt Madge. +</p> +<p> +"But wasn't it just <i>like</i> a rainbow—red, blue and green?" +</p> +<p> +"O, no; our Saviour did not really have any such crown of light, Dotty. +He looked just like other men, only purer and holier. Artists have tried +in vain to make his expression heavenly enough; so they paint him with +an aureole." +</p> +<p> +Prudy said nothing; but as she looked at the picture, a happy feeling +came over her. She remembered how Christ "called little children like +lambs to his fold," and it seemed as if He was very near to-night, and +the room was full of peace. Aunt Madge had done well to place such +paintings before her young guests; good pictures bring good thoughts. +</p> +<p> +"All, everywhere, it's so spl-endid!" said Fly; "what's that thing with +a glass house over it!" +</p> +<p> +"A clock." +</p> +<p> +"What a funny clock! It looks like a little dog wagging its tail." +</p> +<p> +"That's the <i>penderlum</i>," explained Dotty; "it beats the time. Every +clock has a penderlum. Generally hangs down before though, and this +hangs behind. I declare, Prudy, it does look like a dog wagging its +tail." +</p> +<p> +"Hark! it strikes eight," said Aunt Madge. "Time little girls were in +bed, getting rested for a happy day to-morrow." +</p> +<p> +"I don't spect that thing knows what time it is," said Fly, gazing at +the clock doubtfully, "and my eyes are all opened out; but if you want +me to, auntie, I will!" +</p> +<p> +So Flyaway slipped off her clothes in a twinkling. +</p> +<p> +"We're going to lie, all three, in this big bed, Fly, just for one +night," said Dotty; "and after that we must take turns which shall sleep +with you. There, child, you're all undressed, and I haven't got my boots +off yet. You're quicker'n a chain o' lightning, and always was." +</p> +<p> +"Why, how did that kitty get in here?" said auntie, as a loud mewing +was heard. "I certainly shut her out before we came up stairs." +</p> +<p> +Dotty ran round the room, with one boot on, and Prudy in her stockings, +helping their aunt in the search. The kitten was not under the bed, or +in either of the closets, or inside the curtains. +</p> +<p> +"Look ahind the <i>pendlum</i>," said Fly, laughing and skipping about in +high glee; "look ahind the pendlum; look atween the pillow-case." +</p> +<p> +Still the mewing went on. +</p> +<p> +"O, here is the kitty—I've found her," said auntie, suddenly seizing +Fly by the shoulders, and stopping her mocking-bird mouth. "Poor pussy, +she has turned white—white all over!" +</p> +<p> +"You don't mean to say that was Fly Clifford?" cried Prudy. +</p> +<p> +"Shut her up, auntie," said Dotty Dimple; "she's a kitty. I always knew +her name was Kitty." +</p> +<p> +Fly ran and courtesied before the mirror in her nightie. +</p> +<p> +"O, Kitty Clifford, Kitty Clifford," she cried, "when'll you be a cat?" +</p> +<p> +"Pretty soon, if you can catch mice as well as you can mew," laughed +auntie; "but look you, my dear; are you going to bed to-night? or shall +I shut you down cellar?" +</p> +<p> +"Don't shut me down <i>cellow</i>, auntie," cried the mocking-bird, crowing +like a chicken; "shut me in the barn with the banties." +</p> +<p> +Next moment it occurred to the child that this style of behavior was not +very "speckerful;" so she hastily dropped on her knees before her +auntie, and began to say her prayers. The change was so sudden, from +the shrill crow of a chicken to the gentle voice of a little girl +praying, that no one could keep a sober face. Prudy ran into the closet, +and Dotty laughed into her handkerchief. +</p> +<p> +"There, now, that's done," said Flyaway, jumping up as suddenly as she +had knelt down. "Now I must pray Flipperty." +</p> +<p> +And before any one could think what the child meant to do, she had +dragged out her dolly, and knelt it on the rug, face downward, over her +own lap. +</p> +<p> +"O, the wicked creature!" whispered Dotty. But Aunt Madge said nothing. +</p> +<p> +"Pray," said the little one, in a tone of command. Then, in a fine, +squeaking voice, Fly repeated a prayer. It was intended to be +Flipperty's voice, and Flipperty was too young to talk plain. +</p> +<p> +"There, that will do," said Aunt Madge, her large gray eyes trying not +to twinkle; "did she ever say her prayers before?" +</p> +<p> +"Yes, um; she's a goody girl—when I 'member to pray her!" +</p> +<p> +"Well, dear, I wouldn't 'pray her' any more. It makes us laugh to see +such a droll sight, and nobody wishes to laugh when you are talking to +your Father in heaven." +</p> +<p> +"No'm," replied Flyaway, winking her eyes solemnly. +</p> +<p> +But when the "three abed" had been tucked in and kissed, Fly called her +auntie back to ask, "How can Flipperty grow up a goody girl <i>athout</i> she +says her prayers?" +</p> +<p> +There was such a mixture of play and earnestness in the child's eyes, +that auntie had to turn away her face before she could answer seriously. +</p> +<p> +"Why, little girls can think and feel you know; but with dollies it is +different. Now, good night, pet; you won't have beautiful dreams, if you +talk any more." +</p> + + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="CH4"><!-- CH4 --></a> +<h2> + CHAPTER IV. +</h2> + +<h3> +"TAKING OUR AIRS." +</h3><p> </p> +<p> +Flyaway awoke singing, and sprang up in bed, saying,— +</p> +<p> +"Why, I thought I's a car, and that's why I whissiled." +</p> +<p> +"But you are not a car," yawned Prudy; "please don't sing again, or +dance, either." +</p> +<p> +"It's the <i>happerness</i> in me, Prudy; and that's what dances; it's the +happerness." +</p> +<p> +"That's the worst part of Fly Clifford," groaned Dotty; "she won't keep +still in the morning. Might have known there wouldn't be any peace after +she got here." +</p> +<p> +Dotty always came out of sleep by slow stages, and her affections were +the last part of her to wake up. Just now she did not love Katie +Clifford one bit, nor her own mother either. +</p> +<p> +"Won't you light the lamp?" piped Flyaway. +</p> +<p> +"Please don't, Fly," said Prudy; "don't talk!" +</p> +<p> +"Won't you light the la-amp?" +</p> +<p> +"No, we will not," said Dotty, firmly. +</p> +<p> +"Won't you light the la-amp?" +</p> +<p> +"Is this what we came to New York for?" moaned Dotty; "to be waked up in +the middle of the night by folks singing?" +</p> +<p> +"Won't you light the la-amp?" +</p> +<p> +"I'll pack my dresses, and go right home! I'll—I'll have Fly Clifford +sleep out o' this room. Why, I—I—" +</p> +<p> +"Won't you light the la-amp?" +</p> +<p> +Prudy sprang out of bed, convulsed with laughter, and lighted the gas; +whereupon Fly began to dance "Little Zephyrs," on the pillow, and Dotty +to declare her eyes were put out. +</p> +<p> +"Little try-patiences, both of them," thought Prudy; "but then they've +always had their own way, and what can you expect? I'm so glad I wasn't +born the youngest of the family; it does make children <i>so</i> +disagreeable!" +</p> +<p> +As soon as Dotty was fairly awake, her love for her friends came back +again, and her good humor with it. She made Fly bleat like a lamb and +spin like a top, and applauded her loudly. +</p> +<p> +"It's gl-orious to have you here, Fly Clifford. I wouldn't let you go in +any other room to sleep for anything." +</p> +<p> +Which shows that the same thing looked very different to Dotty after she +got her eyes open. +</p> +<p> +When the children went down to breakfast, they found bouquets of +flowers by their plates. +</p> +<p> +"I am delighted to see such happy faces." said Aunt Madge. "How would +you all like to go out by and by, and take the air?" +</p> +<p> +"We'd like it, auntie; and I'll tell you what would be prime," remarked +Horace, from his uncle's place at the head of the table; "and that is, +to take Fly to Stewart's, and have her go up in an elevator." +</p> +<p> +"Why couldn't I go up, too?" asked Dotty, with the slightest possible +shade of discontent in her voice. She did not mean to be jealous, but +she had noticed that Flyaway always came first with Horace, and if there +was anything hard for Dotty's patience, it was playing the part of +Number Two. +</p> +<p> +"We'll all go up," said Aunt Madge. "I've an idea of taking you over +to Brooklyn; and in that case we shan't come home before night." +</p> +<p> +"Carry our dinner in a basket?" suggested Dotty. +</p> +<p> +"O, no; we'll go into a restaurant, somewhere, and order whatever you +like." +</p> +<p> +"Will you, auntie? Well, there, I never went to such a place in my life, +only once; and then Percy Eastman, he just cried 'Fire!' and I broke the +saucer all to pieces." +</p> +<p> +"I've been to it a great many times," said Fly, catching part of Dotty's +meaning; "my mamma bakes 'em in a freezer." +</p> +<p> +At nine o'clock the party of five started out to see New York. Aunt +Madge and Horace walked first, with Flyaway between them. "We are going +out to take our <i>airs</i>," said the little one. +</p> +<p> +"I don't think you need any more," said Horace, looking fondly at his +pretty sister. "You're so airy now, it's as much as we can do to keep +your feet on the ground." +</p> +<p> +Flyaway wore a blue silk bonnet, with white lace around the face, a blue +dress and cloak, and pretty furs with a squirrel's head on the muff. She +had never been dressed so well before, and she knew it. She remembered +hearing "Phibby" say to "Tinka," "Don't that child look like an angel?" +Fly was sure she did, for big folks like Tinka must know. But here her +thoughts grew misty. All the angels she had ever heard of were brother +Harry and "the Charlie boy." How could she look like them? +</p> +<p> +"Does God dress 'em in a cloak and bonnet, you s'pose?" asked she of her +own thoughts. +</p> +<p> +Prudy and Dotty Dimple wore frocks of black and red plaid, white +cloaks, and black hats with scarlet feathers. Horace was satisfied that +a finer group of children could not be found in the city. +</p> +<p> +"Aunt Madge and I have no reason to be ashamed of them, I am sure," +thought he, taking out his new watch every few minutes, not because he +wished to show it, but for fear it was losing time. +</p> +<p> +"How I wish we had Grace and Susey here! and then I should have all my +nieces," said Aunt Madge. "Is it possible these are the same children I +used to see at Willowbrook? Here is my only nephew, that drowned Prudy +on a log, grown tall enough to offer me his arm. (Why, Horace, your head +is higher than mine!) Here is Prudy, who tried yesterday—didn't +she?—to go up to heaven on a ladder, almost a young lady. Why, how old +it makes me feel!" +</p> +<p> +"But you don't look old," said Dotty, consolingly; "you don't look +married any more than Aunt Louise?" +</p> +<p> +Here they took an omnibus, and the children interested themselves in +watching the different people who sat near them. +</p> +<p> +"Aren't you glad to come?" said Dotty. "See that man getting out. What +is that little thing he's switching himself with?" +</p> +<p> +"That's a cane," replied Horace. +</p> +<p> +"A cane? Why, if Flyaway should lean on it, she'd break it in +two.—Prudy, look at that man in the corner; <i>his</i> cane is funnier than +the other one." +</p> +<p> +Horace laughed. +</p> +<p> +"That is a pipe, Dotty—a meerschaum." +</p> +<p> +"Well, I don't see much difference," said Miss Dimple; "New York is the +queerest place. Such long pipes, and such short canes!" +</p> +<p> +Fly was too happy to talk, and sat looking out of the window until an +elegantly-dressed lady entered the stage, who attracted everybody's +attention; and then Flyaway started up, and stood on her tiptoes. The +lady's face was painted so brightly that even a child could not help +noticing it. It was haggard and wrinkled, all but the cheeks, and those +bloomed out like a red, red rose. Flyaway had never seen such a sight +before, and thought if the lady only knew how she looked, she would go +right home and wash her face. +</p> +<p> +"What a chee-arming little girl!" said the painted woman, crowding in +between Aunt Madge and Flyaway, and patting the child's shoulder with +her ungloved hand, which was fairly ablaze with jewels; "bee-youtiful!" +</p> +<p> +Flyaway turned quickly around to Aunt Madge, and said, in one of her +very loud whispers, "What's the matter with her? She's got sumpin on her +face." +</p> +<p> +"Hush," whispered Aunt Madge, pinching the child's hand. +</p> +<p> +"But there is," spoke up Flyaway, very loud in her earnestness; "O, +there is sumpin on her face—sumpin red." +</p> +<p> +There was "sumpin" now on all the other faces in the omnibus, and it was +a smile. The lady must have blushed away down under the paint. She +looked at her jewelled fingers, tossed her head proudly, and very soon +left the stage. +</p> +<p> +"Topknot, how could you be so rude?" said Horace, severely; "little +girls should be seen, and not heard." +</p> +<p> +"But she speaked to me first," said Flyaway. "I wasn't goin' to say +nuffin, and then she speaked." +</p> +<p> +A young gentleman and lady opposite seemed very much amused. +</p> +<p> +"I'm afraid of your bright eyes, little dear. I'll give you some candy +if you won't tell me how I look," said the young lady, showering +sweetmeats into Flyaway's lap. +</p> +<p> +"Why, I wasn't goin' to tell her how she looked," whispered Fly, very +much surprised, and trying to nestle out of sight behind Horace's +shoulder. +</p> +<p> +When they left the omnibus, the children had a discussion about the +painted lady, and could not decide whether they were glad or sorry that +Fly had spoken out so plainly. +</p> +<p> +"Good enough for her," said Dotty. +</p> +<p> +"But it was such a pity to hurt her feelings!" said Prudy. +</p> +<p> +"Who hurted 'em?" asked Fly, looking rather sheepish. +</p> +<p> +"Poh! her feelings can't be worth much," remarked Horace; "a woman +that'll go and rig herself up in that style." +</p> +<p> +"She must be near-sighted," said Aunt Madge. "She certainly can't have +the faintest idea how thick that paint is. She ought to let somebody +else put it on." +</p> +<p> +"But, auntie, isn't it wicked to wear paint on your cheeks?" +</p> +<p> +"No, Dotty, only foolish. That woman was handsome once, but her beauty +is gone. She thinks she can make herself young again, and then people +will admire her." +</p> +<p> +"O, but they won't; they'll only laugh." +</p> +<p> +"Very true, Dotty; but I dare say she never thought of that till this +little child told her." +</p> +<p> +"Fly," said Horace, "You are doing a great deal of good going round +hurting folks' feelings." +</p> +<p> +"Poor woman!" said Aunt Madge, with a pitying smile; "she might comfort +herself by trying to make her soul beautiful." +</p> +<p> +"That would be altogether the best plan," said Horace, aside to Prudy; +"she can't do much with her body, that's a fact; it's too dried up." +</p> +<p> +All this while they were passing elegant shops, and Aunt Madge let the +children pause as long as they liked before the windows, to admire the +beautiful things. +</p> +<p> +"Whose little grampa is that?" cried Fly, pointing to a Santa Claus +standing on the pavement and holding out his hands with a very pleasant +smile; "he's all covered with a snow-storm." +</p> +<p> +"He isn't alive," said Dotty; "and the snow is only painted on his coat +in little dots." +</p> +<p> +"Well, I didn't spect he was alive, Dotty Dimple, only but he made +believe he was. And O, see that hossy! he's dead, too, but he looks as +if you could ride on him." +</p> +<p> +"This other window is the handsomest, Fly; don't I wish I had some of +those beautiful dripping, red ear-rings?" +</p> +<p> +"Why, little sister," said Prudy, "I'd as soon think of wanting a gold +nose as those cat-tail ear-rings. What would Grandma Read say?" +</p> +<p> +"Why, she'd say 'thee' and 'thou,' I s'pose, and ask me if I called 'em +the ornaments of meek and quiet spirits," said Dotty, with a slight curl +of the lip. "Auntie, is it wicked to wear jewels, if your grandma's a +Quaker?" +</p> +<p> +"I think not; that is, if somebody should give you a pair; but I hope +somebody never will. It is a mere matter of taste, however. O, children, +now I think of it, I'll give you each a little pin-money to spend, +to-day, just as you like. A dollar each to Prudy and Dotty; and, Horace, +here is fifty cents for Flyaway." +</p> +<p> +"O, you darling auntie!" cried the little Parlins, in a breath. Dotty +shut this, the largest bill she had ever owned, into her red +porte-monnaie, feeling sure she should never want for anything again +that money can buy. +</p> +<p> +"There, now, Hollis," said Fly, drawing her mouth down and her eyebrows +up, "where's my skipt? <i>my</i> skipt?" +</p> +<p> +"What? A little snip like you mustn't have money," answered Horace, +carelessly; "auntie gave it to me." +</p> +<p> +The moment he had spoken the words, he was sorry, for the child was too +young and sensitive to be trifled with. She never doubted that her great +cruel brother had robbed her. It was too much. Her "dove's eyes" shot +fire. Flyaway could be terribly angry, and her anger was "as quick as a +chain o' lightning." Before any one had time to think twice, she had +turned on her little heel, and was running away. With one impulse the +whole party turned and followed. +</p> +<p> +"Prudy and I haven't breath enough to run," said Aunt Madge. "Here we +are at Stewart's. You'll find us in the rotunda, Horace. Come back here +with Fly, as soon as you have caught her." +</p> +<p> +As soon as he had caught her! +</p> +<p> +They were on Broadway, which was lined with people, moving to and fro. +Horace and Dotty had to push their way through the crowd, while little +Fly seemed to float like a creature of air. +</p> +<p> +"Stop, Fly! Stop, Fly!" cried Horace; but that only added speed to her +wings. +</p> +<p> +"She's like a piece of thistle-down," laughed Horace; "when you get near +her you blow her away." +</p> +<p> +"Stop, O, stop," cried Dotty; "Horace was only in fun. Don't run away +from us, Fly." +</p> +<p> +But by this time the child was so far off that the words were lost in +the din. +</p> +<p> +"Why, where is she? I don't see her," exclaimed Horace, as the little +blue figure suddenly vanished, like a puff of smoke. "Did she cross the +street?" +</p> +<p> +"I don't know, Horace. O, dear, I don't know." +</p> +<p> +It was the first time a fear had entered either of their minds. Knowing +very little of the danger of large cities, they had not dreamed that the +foolish little Fly might get caught in some dreadful spider's web. +</p> + + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="CH5"><!-- CH5 --></a> +<h2> + CHAPTER V. +</h2> + +<h3> +DOTTY HAVING HER OWN WAY. +</h3><p> </p> +<p> +Yes, Fly was out of sight; that was certain. Whether she had turned to +the right, or to the left, or had merely gone straight on, fallen down, +and been trampled on, that was the question. How was one to find out? +People enough to inquire of, but nobody to answer. +</p> +<p> +Horace had as many thoughts as a drowning man. How had he ever dared +bring such a will-o'-the-wisp away from home? How had his mother +consented to let him? His father had charged him, over and over, not to +let go Fly's hand in the street. That did very well to talk about; but +what could you do with a child that wasn't made of flesh and blood, but +the very lightest kind of gas? +</p> +<p> +"Dotty, turn down this street, and I'll keep on up Broadway. No—no; +you'd get lost. What shall we do? Go just where I do, as hard as you can +run, and don't lose sight of me." +</p> +<p> +Dotty began to pant. She could not keep on at this rate of speed, and +Horace saw it. +</p> +<p> +"You'll have to go back to Stewart's." +</p> +<p> +"Where's Stewart's?" gasped Dotty, still running. +</p> +<p> +"Why, that stone building on Tenth Street, with blue curtains, where we +left auntie." +</p> +<p> +"I don't know anything about Tenth Street or blue curtains." +</p> +<p> +"But you'll know it when you get there. Just cross over—" +</p> +<p> +"O, Horace Clifford, I can't cross over! There's horses and carriages +every minute; and my mother made me almost promise I wouldn't ever cross +over." +</p> +<p> +"There are plenty of policemen, Dotty; they'll take you by the +shoulder—" +</p> +<p> +"O, Horace Clifford, they shan't take me by the shoulder! S'pose I want +'em marching me off to the lockup?" screamed Dotty, who believed the +lockup was the chief end and aim of policemen. +</p> +<p> +"Well, then, I don't know anything what to do with you," said Horace, in +despair. +</p> +<p> +It seemed very hard that he should have the care of this willful little +cousin, just when he wanted so much to be free to pursue Flyaway. +</p> +<p> +"If you won't go back to Stewart's, you won't. Will you go into this +shop, then, and wait till I call for you?" +</p> +<p> +"You'll forget to call." +</p> +<p> +"I certainly won't forget." +</p> +<p> +"Well, then, I'll go in; but I won't promise to stay. I want to help +hunt for Fly just as much as you do." +</p> +<p> +"Dotty Dimple, look me right in the eye. I can't stop to coax you. I'm +frightened to death about Fly. Do you go into this store, and stay in it +till I call for you, if it's six hours. If you stir, you're lost. +Do—you—<i>hear</i>?" +</p> +<p> +"Yes, I <i>hear</i>.—H'm, he thinks my ears are thick as ears o' corn? No +holes in 'em to hear with, I s'pose! Horace Clifford hasn't got the +<i>say</i> o' me, though. I can go all over town for all o' him!" +</p> +<p> +"What will you have, my little lady?" said a clerk, bowing to Dotty. +</p> +<p> +"I don't want anything, if you please, sir. There was a boy, and he +asked me to stay here while he went to find something." +</p> +<p> +"Very well; sit as long as you please." +</p> +<p> +"Screwed right down into the floor, this piano stool is," thought Dotty; +"makes it real hard to sit on, because you can't whirl it. Guess I'll +walk 'round a while. Why, if here isn't a window right in the floor! +Strong enough to walk on. There's a man going over it with big boots and +a cane. I can look right down into the cellar. Only just I can't see any +thing, though, the glass is so thick." +</p> +<p> +Dotty watched the clerks measuring off yards of cloth, tapping on the +counter, and calling out, "Cash." It was rather funny, at first, to see +the little boys run; but Dotty soon tired of it. +</p> +<p> +"Horace is gone a long while," thought she, going to the door and +looking out. +</p> +<p> +"He has forgotten to call, or he's forgotten where he left me, or else +he hasn't found Fly. Dear, dear! I can't wait. I'll just go out a few +steps, and p'rhaps I'll meet 'em." +</p> +<p> +She walked out a little way, seeing nothing but a multitude of strange +faces. +</p> +<p> +"Well, I should think this was queer! I'll go right back to that store, +and sit down on the piano stool. If Horace Clifford can't be more +polite! Well, I should think!" +</p> +<p> +Dotty went back, and entered, as she supposed, the store she had left; +but a great change had come over it. It had the same counters, and +stools, and goods on lines, marked "Selling off below cost;" but the men +looked very different. "I don't see how they could change round so +quick," thought Dotty; "I haven't been gone <i>more'n</i> a minute." +</p> +<p> +"What shall I serve you to, mees," said one of them, with a smile that +was all black eyes and white teeth. Dotty thought he looked very much +like Lina <i>Rosenbug's</i> brother; and his hair was so shiny and sticky, it +must have been dipped in molasses. +</p> +<p> +She answered him with some confusion. "I don't want anything. I was the +girl, you know, that the boy was going somewhere to find something." +</p> +<p> +The man smiled wickedly, and said, "Yees, mees." In an instant it +flashed across Dotty that she had got into the wrong store. Where was +the glass window she had walked on? They couldn't have taken that out +while she was gone. The floor was whole, and made of nothing but boards. +</p> +<p> +"Well, it's very queer stores should be <i>twins</i>," thought Dotty. +</p> +<p> +She entered the next one. It was not a "twin;" it was full of books and +pictures. +</p> +<p> +"Why didn't Horace leave me here, in the first place, it was so much +nicer. And they let people read and handle the pictures. O, they have +the <i>goldest</i>-looking things!" +</p> +<p> +How shocked Prudy would have been, if she had seen her little sister +reaching up to the counter, and turning over the leaves of books, side +by side with grown people! Miss Dimple was never very bashful; and what +did she care for the people in New York, who never saw her before? She +soon became absorbed in a fairy story. Seconds, minutes, quarters; it +was a whole hour before she came to herself enough to remember that +Horace was to call for her, and she was not where he had left her. +</p> +<p> +"But he can't scold; for didn't he keep me waiting, too? Now I'll go +back." +</p> +<p> +The next place she entered was a cigar store. +</p> +<p> +"I might have known better than to go in; for there's that wooden Indian +standing there, a-purpose to keep ladies out!" +</p> +<p> +"O, here's a 'Sample Room.' Now this <i>must</i> be the place, for it says +'Push,' on the green door, just as the other one did." +</p> +<p> +What was Dotty's astonishment, when she found she had rushed into a room +which held only tables, bottles, and glasses, and men drinking something +that smelt like hot brandy! +</p> +<p> +"I shan't go into any more 'Sample Rooms.' I didn't know a 'Sample' +meant whiskey! But, I do declare, it's funny where <i>my</i> store is gone +to." +</p> +<p> +The child was going farther and farther away from it. +</p> +<p> +"Here is one that looks a little like it Any way, I can see a glass +window in there, on the floor." +</p> +<p> +A lady stood at a counter, folding a piece of green velvet ribbon. Dotty +determined to make friends with her; so she went up to her, and said, in +a low voice, "Will you please tell me, ma'am, if I'm the same little +girl that was in here before? No, I don't mean so. I mean, did I go into +the same store, or is this a different one? Because there's a boy going +to call for me, and I thought I'd better know." +</p> +<p> +Of course the lady smiled, and said it might, or might not be the same +place; but she did not remember to have seen Dotty before. +</p> +<p> +"What was the number of the store? The boy ought to have known." +</p> +<p> +"But I don't believe he did," replied Dotty, indignantly; "he never said +a word to me about numbers. I'm almost afraid I'll get lost!" +</p> +<p> +"I should be quite afraid of it, child. Where do you live?" +</p> +<p> +"In Portland, in the State of Maine. Prudy and I came to New York: our +auntie sent for us—I know the place when I see it; side of a church +with ivy; but O, dear! I'm afraid the stage don't stop there. She's at +Mr. Stewart's—she and Prudy." +</p> +<p> +"Do you mean Stewart's store?" +</p> +<p> +"O, no'm; it's a man she knows," replied Dotty, confidently; "he lives +in a blue house." +</p> +<p> +The lady asked no more questions. If Dotty had said "Stewart's store," +and had remembered that the curtains were blue, and not the building, +Miss Kopper would have thought she knew what to do; she would have sent +the child straight to Stewart's. +</p> +<p> +"Poor little thing!" said she, twisting the long curl, which hung down +the back of her neck like a bell-rope, and looking as if she cared more +about her hair than she cared for all the children in Portland. "The +best thing you can do is to go right into the druggist's, next door but +one, and look in the City Directory. Do you know your aunt's husband's +name?" +</p> +<p> +"O, yes'm. Colonel Augustus Allen, <i>Fiftieth</i> Avenue." +</p> +<p> +"Well, then, there'll be no difficulty. Just go in and ask to look in +the Directory; they'll tell you what stage to take. Now I must attend to +these ladies. Hope you'll get home safe." +</p> +<p> +"A handsome child," said one of the ladies. "Yes, from the country," +replied Miss Kopper with a sweet smile; "I have just been showing her +the way home." +</p> +<p> +Ah, Miss Kopper, perhaps you thought you were telling the truth; but +instead of relieving the country child's perplexity, you had confused +her more than ever. What should Dotty Dimple know about a City +Directory? She forgot the name of it before she got to the druggist's. +</p> +<p> +"Please, sir, there's something in here,—may I see it?—that shows +folks where they live." +</p> +<p> +"A policeman?" +</p> +<p> +"No; O, no, sir." +</p> +<p> +After some time, the gentleman, being rather shrewd, surmised what she +wanted, and gave her the book. +</p> +<p> +"Not that, sir," said Dotty, ready to cry. +</p> +<p> +Perhaps you will be as ready to laugh, when you hear that the child +really supposed a City Directory was an instrument that drew out and +shut up like a telescope, and, by peeping through it, she could see the +distant home of Colonel Allen, on "Fiftieth Avenue." +</p> +<p> +The apothecary did not laugh at her; but, being a kind man, and, +moreover, not having curls hanging down his neck which needed attention, +he gave his whole care to Dotty, found an omnibus for her, told the +driver just where to let her out, and made her repeat her uncle's street +and number till he thought there was no danger of a mistake. +</p> + + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="CH6"><!-- CH6 --></a> +<h2> + CHAPTER VI. +</h2> + +<h3> +DOTTY REBUKED. +</h3><p> </p> +<p> +One would have thought that now all Dotty's troubles were over; and so +they would have been, if she had not tried so hard to remember the +number. She said it over and over so many times, that all of a sudden it +went out of her mind. It was like rolling a ball on the ground, backward +and forward, till most unexpectedly it pops into a hole. Very much +frightened, Dotty bit her lip, twirled her front hair, and pinched her +left cheek—all in vain; the number wouldn't come. +</p> +<p> +"O, dear, what'll I do? I'd open that cellar door, where the driver is; +but he's all done up in a blue cape, and don't know anything only how +to whip his horses. And there don't anybody know where anybody lives in +this city; so it's no use to ask. For what do they care? They'd tell you +to look in the Dictionary. There's nobody in Portland ever told me to +look in a Dictionary. Here they are, sitting round here, just as happy, +all but me. They all live in a number, and they know what it is; but +they keep it to themselves,—they don't tell. It always makes people +feel better to know where they're going to. When I'm in Portland I know +how to get to Park Street, and how to get to Munjoy, and how to get to +Back Cove, with my eyes shut. But they don't make things as they ought +to in New York. You can't find out what to do." +</p> +<p> +So the stage rumbled, and Dotty grumbled. Presently a lady in an ermine +cloak got out, and Dotty did not know of anything better to do than to +follow. She certainly was on Fifth Avenue, and perhaps, if she walked +on, she should come to the number. +</p> +<p> +"There isn't any house along here that looks like auntie's," said she, +anxiously; "only they all look like it some. I never saw such a place as +this city, So many same things right over, and over; and then, when you +go into 'em, its just as different, and not the place you s'posed it +was." +</p> +<p> +Here Dotty ran up some steps, and rang a bell. She thought the damask +curtains looked familiar. +</p> +<p> +"No, no," cried she, running down again, as fast as the mouse ran down +the clock; "my auntie don't keep onions in her bay window, I hope!" +</p> +<p> +It was hyacinth bulbs, in glass vases, which had excited Dotty's +disgust. +</p> +<p> +"O, I guess I'm on the wrong side of the street; no wonder I can't find +the house. There, I see a chamber window open; <i>our</i> chamber window was +open. I'm going to cross over and get near enough to see if there's a +little clock on the shelf that ticks like a dog wagging his tail." +</p> +<p> +No, there was no clock of any sort, and where the shelf ought to be was +a baby's crib. +</p> +<p> +"Well, any way, here's that beautiful church, with ivy round it; it's +ever so near auntie's; so I'll keep walking." +</p> +<p> +Dotty was right when she said the church was near auntie's—it was +within three doors; but she was wrong when she kept walking precisely +the wrong way. She crossed over to Sixth Avenue. Now, where were the +brown houses? She saw the horse-cars plodding along, and tried to read +the words on them. +</p> +<p> +"'Sixth Ave. and Fifty-Ninth Street.' Why, what's an <i>ave</i>? I never heard +of such a thing before; we don't have 'aves' in Portland. There are ever +so many people getting out of that car. While it stops, I'll peep in, +and see where it's going to. Perhaps there's a name inside that tells." +</p> +<p> +And, with her usual rashness, Dotty stepped upon the platform of the +car, and looked in. What she expected to see she hardly knew,—perhaps +"Aunt Madge's House," in gold letters; but what she really saw was, "No +Smoking;" those two words, and nothing more. +</p> +<p> +"Well, who wants to smoke? I'm sure <i>I</i> don't," thought Dotty, +disdainfully, and was turning to step off the platform, when Horace +Clifford seized her by the shoulder. +</p> +<p> +"Where did you come from, you runaway?" said he, gruffly. +</p> +<p> +Close beside him were Aunt Madge and Prudy; all three were getting out +of the car. +</p> +<p> +"Thank Heaven, one of them is found," cried Aunt Madge, her face very +pale, her large eyes full of trouble. +</p> +<p> +Prudy kissed and scolded in the same breath. "O, Dotty Dimple, you'd +better believe we're glad to see you?—but what a naughty girl! A pretty +race you've led Horace, and he just wild about Fly!" +</p> +<p> +"H'm! what'd he go off for, then, and leave me there, sitting on a piano +stool? S'pose I's going to sit there all day? Didn't I want to go home +as much as the rest of you." +</p> +<p> +"And how did you get home? I'd like to know that," said Horace, walking +on with great strides, and then coming back again to the "ladies;" for +his anxiety about his little sister would not allow him to behave +calmly. +</p> +<p> +"I rode." +</p> +<p> +"You weren't in the car <i>we</i> came in." +</p> +<p> +"N-o; I just happened to be peeking in there you know. But I came in an +<i>omnibius</i>." +</p> +<p> +"It is wonderful," said Aunt Madge, looking puzzled, "that you ever knew +what omnibus to take." +</p> +<p> +Dotty looked down to see if her boot was buttoned, and forgot to look up +again. "Well, <i>I</i> shouldn't have known one <i>omnibius</i>, as you call it, +from another," said Prudy, lost in admiration. "Why, Dotty, how bright +you are! And there we were, so afraid about you, and spoke to a +policeman to look you up." +</p> +<p> +"I wouldn't let a p'liceman catch <i>me</i>," said Dotty, tossing her head. +"But haven't you found Fly yet?" +</p> +<p> +They were at home by this time, and Horace was ringing the bell. +</p> +<p> +"No, the dear child is still missing; but the police are on her track," +said Aunt Madge, looking at her watch. "It is now one o'clock. Keep a +good heart, Horace, my boy. John shall go straight to the telegraph +office, and wait there for a despatch. Don't you leave us, dear; we +can't spare you, and you can do no good." +</p> +<p> +Horace made no reply, except to tap the heels of his boots together. He +looked utterly crushed. A large city was just as strange to him as it +was to Dotty, and he could only obey his aunt's orders, and try to hope +for the best. Dotty seemed to be the only one who felt like saying a +word, and she talked incessantly. +</p> +<p> +"O, what'd you send the p'lice after her for? To put her in the lockup, +and make her cry and think she's been naughty? It's the awfulest city +that ever I saw. Folks might send her home, if they were a mind to, but +they won't. They don't care what 'comes of you. There's cars and stages +going to which ways, and nothing but 'No Smoking,' inside. And I went +and peeped in at a window, and there was <i>onions</i>! And how'd I know +where to go to? There was a girl with a long curl, and she said, 'Go to +the 'pothecary's;' and what would Fly have known where she meant? And he +looked in a Dictionary, and put me in a stage,—I was going to tell you +about that when I got ready,—and asked me if I had ten cents, and I +had; and then I forgot what the number was, and that was the time I saw +the onions, or I should have gone right into somebody's else's house. +And I knew there was a church with ivy round, but Fly don't know; she's +nothing but a baby. And I should have thought, Horace Clifford, you +might have given her that money! That was what made her run off; you was +real cruel, and that's why I wouldn't mind what you said. And—and—" +</p> +<p> +"Hush," said Aunt Madge, brushing back a spray of fair curls, which the +wind had tossed over her forehead. "I don't allow a word of scolding in +my house. If you don't feel pleasant, Dotty, you may go into the back +yard and scold into a hole." +</p> +<p> +Dotty stopped suddenly. She knew her aunt was displeased; she felt it in +the tones of her voice. +</p> +<p> +"Dotty, the wind has been at play with your hair as well as mine. +Suppose we both go up stairs a few minutes?" +</p> +<p> +"There, auntie's going to reason with me," thought Dotty, winding slowly +up the staircase; "I didn't suppose she was one of that kind." +</p> +<p> +"No dear, I'm <i>not</i> one of that kind," said Mrs. Allen, roguishly; for +she saw just what the child was thinking. "'I come not here to talk.' +All I have to say is this: Disobey again, and I send you home +immediately." +</p> +<p> +"Yes'm," said the little culprit, blushing crimson. "Now, brush your +hair, and let us go down." This was the only allusion Mrs. Allen ever +made to the subject; but after this, she and Dotty understood each other +perfectly. Dotty had learned, once for all, that her aunt was not to be +trifled with. +</p> +<p> +The child really was ashamed—thoroughly ashamed; but do you suppose +she admitted it to Horace? Not she. And he, so full of anguish +concerning the lost Fly, found not a word of fault; scarcely even +thought of his naughty cousin at all. +</p> + + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="CH7"><!-- CH7 --></a> +<h2> + CHAPTER VII. +</h2> + +<h3> +THE LOST FLY. +</h3><p> </p> +<p> +Now we must go back and see what has become of the little one. +</p> +<p> +At first her heart had swollen with rage. Anger had set her going, just +as a blow from a battledoor sends off a shuttlecock. And, once being +started, the poor little shuttlecock couldn't stop. +</p> +<p> +"Auntie gave me that skipt. Hollis is a very wicked boy; steals skipt +from little gee-urls. I don't ever want to see Hollis no more." +</p> +<p> +What she meant to do, or where to go, she had no more idea than the blue +clouds overhead. She had no doubt her brother was close behind, trying +to overtake her. Her sole thought was, that she "wouldn't ever see +Hollis no more." She knew nothing could make him so unhappy as that. +"I'll lose me, and then how'll he feel?" +</p> +<p> +"Lose me!" A wild thought, gone in a moment; but meanwhile she was +already lost. +</p> +<p> +"I hope auntie won't give Hollis nuffin to eat, 'cause he's took away my +skipt; nuffin to eat but meat and vertato, athout any pie." +</p> +<p> +Flyaway shook her head so hard, that the "war-plume" under her bonnet +would have nodded, if the air could have got at it. "Why, where's +Hollis?" said she, looking back, and finding, to her surprise, he was +not to be seen. "I spected he'd come. I thought I heard him walking +ahind me." +</p> +<p> +Flyaway's anger had died out by this time. It never lasted longer than +a Fourth of July torpedo. +</p> +<p> +"He didn't know I runned off. Guess I'll go back, and he'll give me the +skipt; and then I'll forgive him all goody." +</p> +<p> +A very nice plan; only, instead of going back, she turned a corner, and +tripped along towards University Place. She had twisted her head so much +in looking for Horace, that it was completely turned round. And, +besides, a little farther on was a man playing a harp, and a small boy a +violin. Fly paused and listened, till she no longer remembered Horace or +the "skipt." She forgot this was New York, and dreamed she had come to +fairy-land. Her soul was full of music. Happy thoughts about nothing in +particular made her smile and clap her hands. Birds, flowers, Santa +Clauses, Flipperties, and "pepnits" seemed to hover near. Something +beautiful was just going to happen, she didn't know what. +</p> +<p> +After the man had played for some time without attracting attention from +any body but Flyaway and a poor old beggar woman, he put his harp in a +green bag, slung it over his shoulder, and walked off. Flyaway followed +without knowing it. Down Sixth Avenue went the music-man, and close at +his heels went she. By and by she saw a little girl, no larger than +herself, with a great bundle on her shoulders. +</p> +<p> +"You don't s'pose she's got a music on <i>her</i> back?—No, not a music; +it's too soft all swelled out in a bunch." +</p> +<p> +Fly went nearer the little girl, to see what she was carrying; and as +she did so, some gray coals, mixed with ashes, fell out of the bundle +upon her nice cloak. +</p> +<p> +"Why, she's been and carried off her mother's fireplace," thought Fly, +shaking her cloak in disgust; "what you s'pose she wanted to do that +for?" +</p> +<p> +But far from carrying off her mother's fireplace, the ragged little girl +had only been picking up old coal out of barrels, and was taking it home +to burn. It had already been burned once, and picked over and burned +again, and thrown away; but perhaps this poor child's mother could coax +it into a faint glow, warm enough to fry a few potatoes. +</p> +<p> +While Flyaway was shaking her cloak, and staring at some old silk +dresses and bed-quilts, which were hung before a shop-door, the man with +the harp on his back, and the boy with a violin under his arm, had +turned a corner, and passed out of sight. Flyaway rubbed her eyes, and +looked again. They must have gone down through the brick pavement, but +she couldn't see any hole. Far away in the distance she heard their +music again, and it did not come from under ground. She ran to overtake +it, and turned into Bleecker Street. No music-man there, but a good +supply of oranges and apples. +</p> +<p> +"Needn't folks put their hands in, and take some out the barrels? Then +why for did the folks put 'em on' doors?" +</p> +<p> +While pondering this grave question, she was jostled by a man carrying a +rocking-chair, and very nearly fell down stairs into an oyster-saloon. A +minute more and she was back on Broadway, the very street, where Aunt +Madge and Prudy were waiting for her, but so much lower down that she +might as well have been in the State of Maine. +</p> +<p> +"Now, I'll go find my Hollis," said she turning another corner, and +running the wrong way with all her might. Past candy-stalls, past +toy-shops, past orange-wagons. Hark, music again! Not the soft strains +of a harp, but the stirring notes of bugle, fife, and drum. Fly kept +time with her feet. +</p> +<p> +"Here we go marchin' on," hummed she. But the crowd "marchin' on" with +her was a strange one. Carts full of hammers, pincers, and all sorts of +iron tools, and men in gray shirts, with black caps on their heads. Some +of the men had banners, with great black words, such as "Equal Rights," +or something like them, in German; but of course Fly could not tell one +letter from another. She only knew it was all very "homebly," in spite +of the music. She began to think she had better get away as soon as she +could; so she tried to cross the street, but some one held her back; it +was a lady, carrying a small dog in her arms, like a baby. +</p> +<p> +"Don't go there, child; that's a strike, you'll get killed." +</p> +<p> +Fly knew but one meaning for the word <i>strike</i>; and, tearing herself +from the lady, ran screaming down Broadway, with the thought that every +man's hand was against her. +</p> +<p> +On she went, and on went the strike, close behind her. A little while +ago she had been following music, and now music was following her. But +the fifes and drums were rather slow, and Flyaway's feet were very +swift; so it was not long before the gray men, with their white banners +and clattering carts, were far behind her. No danger now that any of the +wicked creatures would strike her; so she slackened her pace. +</p> +<p> +She did begin to wonder why she had not found Horace; still, she was not +at all alarmed, and there was a dreadful din in the streets, which +confused her thoughts. It seemed as if people were making it on purpose. +Once, at Willowbrook, she had heard boys banging tin pans, grinding +coffee mills, and pounding with mortars. She had liked that,—they +called it the "Calathumpian Band,"—and she liked this too; it sounded +about as uproarious. +</p> +<p> +While she sauntered along, spying wonders, her eye was attracted by some +balancing-toys, which a man was showing off at one of the corners. What +a pleasant man he was, to set them spinning just to amuse little girls! +Fly was delighted with one wee soldier, in a blue coat with brass +buttons, who kept dancing and bowing with the greatest politeness. +"Captain Jinks, of the horse-marines," said the toy-man, introducing +him. "Buy him, miss; he'll make a nice little husband for you; only +fifteen cents." +</p> +<p> +Fly felt quite flattered. It was the first time in her life any one had +ever asked her to buy anything, and she thought she must have grown tall +since she came from Indiana. She put her fingers in her mouth, then took +them out, and put them in her pocket. +</p> +<p> +"Here's my porte-monnaie-ry," said she, dolefully; "but I haven't but +two cents—no more. Hollis carried it off." +</p> +<p> +"Well, well, run along, then. Don't you see you're right in the way?" +</p> +<p> +Fly was surprised and grieved at the change in the man's tone: she had +expected he would pity her for not having any money. +</p> +<p> +"Come here, you little lump of love," called out a mellow voice; and +there, close by, sat a wizened old woman, making flowers into nosegays. +She had on a quilted hood as soft as her voice, but everything else +about her was as hard as the door-stone she sat on. +</p> +<p> +"See my beautiful flowers," said the old crone, pointing to the table +before her; "who cares for them jumping things over yonder? I don't." +</p> +<p> +The flowers were tied in bouquets—sweet violets, rosebuds, and +heliotrope. Fly, whose head just reached the top of the table, smelt +them, and forgot the "little husband, for fifteen cents." +</p> +<p> +"He's a cross man, dearie," said the old woman, lowering her voice, "or +he wouldn't have sent you off so quick, just because you hadn't any +money. Now, I love little girls, and I'll warrant we can make some kind +of a trade for one of my posies." +</p> +<p> +Fly smiled, and quickly seized a bouquet with a clove pink in it. +</p> +<p> +"Not so fast, child! What you got that you can give me for it? I don't +mind the money. That old pocket-book will do, though 'tain't wuth much." +</p> +<p> +It was very surprising to Fly to hear her port-monnaie called old; for +it was bought last week, and was still as red as the cheeks of the +painted lady. +</p> +<p> +"I don't <i>dass</i> to give folks my porte-monnaie-ry," said she, clutching +it tighter, but holding the flowers to her nose all the while. +</p> +<p> +"O, fudge! Well, what else you got in your pocket? A handkerchief?" +</p> +<p> +"No, my hangerfiss is in my muff." +</p> +<p> +"That? Why, there isn't a speck o' lace on it. Nice little ladies always +has lace. Here's a letter in the corner; what is it?" +</p> +<p> +"Hollis says it's K; stands for Flyaway." +</p> +<p> +"Well, you're such a pretty little pink, I guess I'll take it; but +'tain't wuth lookin' at," said the crafty old woman, who saw at a glance +it was pure linen, and quite fine. +</p> +<p> +"Now run along, baby; your mummer will be waitin' for you." +</p> +<p> +Fly walked on slowly. Ought she to have parted with her very best +hangerfiss! +</p> +<p> +"Nice ole lady, loved little gee-urls; but what you s'pose folks was +goin' to cry into now?" +</p> +<p> +Tears started at the thought. One of them dropped into the eye of the +squirrel, who sat on the muff, peeping up into her face. +</p> +<p> +"Nice ole lady, I s'pose; but folks never wanted to buy my +<i>hangerfisses</i> byfore!" thought Fly, much puzzled by the state of +society in New York. "And I've got some beau-fler flowers to my auntie's +house. Wake up—wake up!" added she, blowing open a pink rose-bud; +"you's too little for me." +</p> +<p> +But the bud did not wish to wake up and be a rose; it curled itself +together, and went to sleep again. +</p> +<p> +"I don't see where Hollis stays to all the time," exclaimed the little +one, beginning to have a faint curiosity about it. +</p> + + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="CH8"><!-- CH8 --></a> +<h2> + CHAPTER VIII. +</h2> + +<h3> +"THE FRECKLED DOG." +</h3><p> </p> +<p> +But just then a gentle-looking blind girl came along led by a dog. The +sight was so strange that Flyaway stopped to admire; for whatever else +she might be afraid of, she always loved and trusted a dog. +</p> +<p> +"Doggie, doggie," cried she, patting the little animal's head. +</p> +<p> +"O, <i>what</i> a sweet voice," said the blind girl, putting out her hand and +groping till she touched Fly's shoulder. "I never heard such a voice!" +</p> +<p> +This was what strangers often said, and Flyaway never doubted the +sweetness was caused by eating so much candy; but just now she had had +none for two days. +</p> +<p> +"What makes you shut your eyes up, right in the street, girl? Is the +<i>seeingness</i> all gone out of 'em?" +</p> +<p> +"Yes, you darling. I haven't had any seeingness in my eyes for a year." +</p> +<p> +"You didn't? Then you's <i>blind-eyed</i>," returned Flyaway, with perfect +coolness. +</p> +<p> +"And don't you feel sorry for me—not a bit?" +</p> +<p> +"No, 'cause your dog is freckled so pretty." +</p> +<p> +"But I can't see his freckles." +</p> +<p> +"Well, he's got 'em. Little yellow ones, spattered out all over him." +</p> +<p> +"But if I had eyes like you, I shouldn't need any dog. I could go about +the streets alone." +</p> +<p> +"Well, I don't like to go 'bout the streets alone; I want my own +brother Hollis." +</p> +<p> +"I hope you haven't got lost, little dear?" +</p> +<p> +"No," laughed Fly, gayly; "I didn't get lost! But I don't know where +nobody is! And there don't nobody know where <i>I</i> am!" +</p> +<p> +The blind girl took Fly's little hand tenderly in hers. +</p> +<p> +"Come, turn down this street with me, and tell me all about it." +</p> +<p> +Fly trudged along, prattling merrily, for about a minute: then she drew +away. "'Tisn't a nice place; I don't want to go there." +</p> +<p> +A look of pain crossed the blind girl's face. +</p> +<p> +"No, I dare say you don't. It isn't much of a place for folks with silk +bonnets on." +</p> +<p> +"You can't see my bonnet; you can't see anything, you're blind-eyed; +but," said Fly, glancing sharply around, "it isn't pretty here, at all; +and there's a dead cat right in the street." +</p> +<p> +"Yes, I think likely." +</p> +<p> +"And there's a boy. I spect he frowed the cat out the window; he hasn't +nuffin on but dirty cloe's." +</p> +<p> +"Do you see some steps?" said the blind girl, putting her hand out +cautiously. "Don't fall down." +</p> +<p> +"I shan't fall down; I'm going home." +</p> +<p> +"O, don't child; you must come with me. My mother will take care of +you." +</p> +<p> +"I don't want nobody's mother to take 'are o' me; I've got a mamma +myself!" +</p> +<p> +"How little you know!" said the blind girl, thinking aloud; "how lucky +it is I found you! and O, dear, how I wish I could see! You'll slip +away in spite of me." +</p> +<p> +But Flyaway allowed herself to be drawn along, step by step, partly +because she liked the "freckled dog," and partly because she had not +ceased being amused by the droll sight of a person walking with closed +eyes. +</p> +<p> +"What's the name of you, girl?" +</p> +<p> +"Maria." +</p> +<p> +"Maria? So was my mamma; her name was Maria, when she was a little girl. +O, look, there's another boy; don't you see him? Up high, in that house. +Got a big box with a string to it." +</p> +<p> +A very rough-looking boy was standing at a third-story window, lowering +a bandbox by a clothes-line. As Fly watched the box slowly coming down, +the boy called out,— +</p> +<p> +"Get in, little un, and I'll give you a free ride." +</p> +<p> +"O, no—O, no; I don't <i>dass</i> to." +</p> +<p> +"Yes, yes; go in, lemons," said the boy, choking with laughter, as he +saw the child's horror. "If you don't do it, by cracky, I'll come down +and fetch you." +</p> +<p> +At this, Fly was frightened nearly out of her senses, and ran so fast +that the dog could scarcely have kept up with her, even if he had not +had a blind mistress pulling him back. +</p> +<p> +"O, where are you?" exclaimed Maria. "Don't run away from me,—don't!" +</p> +<p> +"He's a-gon to kill me in two," cried Flyaway, stopping for breath.' +"he's a-gon to kill me in two-oo!" +</p> +<p> +"No, he isn't, dear! It's only Izzy Paul He couldn't catch you, if he +tried. He's lame, and goes on crutches." +</p> +<p> +"But he said a swear word,—yes he, did," sobbed the child, never +doubting that a boy who could swear was capable of murder, though he had +neither hands nor feet. +</p> +<p> +"Stop, now," said Maria, clutching Fly as if she had been a spinning +top. "This is my house. Mother, mother, here's a little girl; catch +her—hold her—keep her!" +</p> +<p> +"Me? What should I catch a little girl for?" said Mrs. Brooks, a faded +woman with a tired face, and a nose that moved up and down when she +talked. She had been standing at the door of their tumbledown tenement, +looking for her daughter, and was surprised to see her bringing a +strange child with her. It was not often that well-dressed people +wandered into that dirty alley. +</p> +<p> +"The poor little thing has got lost, mother. Perhaps <i>you</i> can find out +where she came from. I didn't ask her any questions; it was as much as I +could do to keep up with her." +</p> +<p> +Maria put her hand on her side. Fast walking always tired her, for she +was afraid every moment of falling. +</p> +<p> +They had to go down a flight of stairs to get into the house; and after +they got there Fly looked around in dismay. +</p> +<p> +"I don't want to stay in the stable," she murmured. Indeed it was not +half as nice as the place where her father kept his horse. +</p> +<p> +"But this is where we have to live," sighed Maria. +</p> +<p> +"Have things to eat?" asked the little stranger, in a solemn whisper. +</p> +<p> +There were a few chairs with broken backs, a few shelves with clean +dishes, a few children with hungry faces. In one corner was a clumsy +bedstead, and in a tidy bed lay a pale man. +</p> +<p> +"Who've you got there, Maria?" said he. "Bring her along, and stick her +up on the bed." +</p> +<p> +"Don't be afraid," said Mrs. Brooks; "it's only pa; wouldn't the little +girl like to talk to him? He's sick." +</p> +<p> +Flyaway was not at all afraid, for the man smiled pleasantly, and did +not look as if he would hurt anybody. Mrs. Brooks set her on the bed, +and Maria, afraid of losing her, held her by one foot. The children all +crowded around to see the little lady in a silk bonnet holding a +button-hole bouquet to her bosom. +</p> +<p> +"Ain't she a ducky dilver!" said the oldest boy. "Pa'll be pleased, for +he don't see things much. Has to keep abed all the time." +</p> +<p> +Mr. Brooks tried to smile, and Flyaway whispered to Maria, with sudden +pity,— +</p> +<p> +"Sorry he's sick. Has he got to stay sick? Can't you find the camphor +bottle?" +</p> +<p> +"O, father, she thinks if ycu had some camphor to smell of, 'twould cure +you." +</p> +<p> +Then they all laughed, and Fly timidly offered the sick man her flowers. +</p> +<p> +"What, that pretty posy for me? Bless you, baby, they'll do me a sight +more good than camfire!" +</p> +<p> +"There," said Maria, joyfully, "now pa is pleased; I know by the sound +of his voice. Poor pa! only think, little girl, a stick of timber fell +on him, and lamed him for life!" +</p> +<p> +"Yes," said Bennie, "the lower part of him is as limber as a rag." +</p> +<p> +"She don't sense a word you say," remarked Mrs. Brooks, shaking up a +pillow, "See what we can get out of her. What's your name, dear?" +</p> +<p> +"Katie Clifford." +</p> +<p> +"Where do you live?" +</p> +<p> +"I <i>have</i> been borned in Nindiana." +</p> +<p> +Fly spoke with some pride. She considered her birth an honor to the +state. +</p> +<p> +"But where did you come from, Katie? That's what we mean." +</p> +<p> +"I camed from heaven," said the child, with one of her wise looks. +</p> +<p> +"Beats all, don't she?" cried Mr. Brooks, admiringly. "Looks like an +angel, I declare for't. Did you just drop down out of the sky?" +</p> +<p> +"No, sir," answered Flyaway, folding her little hands as if she were +saying her prayers; "I camed down when I was a baby." +</p> + +<a name="image-1"><!-- Image 1 --></a> +<p class="figure"> +<img src="angel.jpg" width="80%" +alt="'I Camed Down when I Was a Baby.'"><br /> +<b>'I Camed Down when I Was a Baby.'</b></p> + +<p> +"That's what makes your hair so <i>goldy</i>," said Bennie. "Mother, did you +ever see such eyes? Say, did you ever? So soft, and kinder shiny, too." +</p> +<p> +"Children, don't stare at her; it makes her uneasy." +</p> +<p> +"<i>I</i> can't stare at her," said Maria, bitterly. "I suppose you don't +mean me, mother." +</p> +<p> +Mrs. Brooks only answered her poor daughter by a kiss. +</p> +<p> +"Well, little Katie, after you were born in <i>Nindiana</i>, you came to New +York. When did you come?" +</p> +<p> +"One of these other days I camed here with Hollis." +</p> +<p> +"Who's Hollis?" +</p> +<p> +"He's my own brother. Got a new cap. Had his hair cut." +</p> +<p> +"Who did you come to New York to see?" "My auntie." +</p> +<p> +"Her auntie! A great deal of satisfaction we are likely to get out of +this child," said Mr. Brooks, laughing. He had not laughed before for a +week. +</p> +<p> +"What's your auntie's name?" +</p> +<p> +"Aunt Madge." +</p> +<p> +"Is she married?" +</p> +<p> +"O, yes; and so's Uncle 'Gustus. Married together, and live together, +just the same." +</p> +<p> +"Uncle 'Gustus who? Now we'll come at it!" +</p> +<p> +"Alling," replied Fly, her quick eyes roving about the room, for she was +tired of these questions. +</p> +<p> +"Allen, Augustus Allen!" said Mr. Brooks, in surprise; "I wonder if +there can be two of them. Tell me, child, how does he look?" +</p> +<p> +"Don't look like you," replied Fly, after a keen survey of Mr. Brooks. +"Your face is pulled away down long, like that;" (stretching her hand +out straight) "Uncle 'Gustus's face is squeezed up short" (doubling her +hand into a ball) +</p> +<p> +"I'll warrant it is the colonel himself," said Mrs. Brooks, smiling at +the description. +</p> +<p> +"Yes, that's the name of him; the 'kernil's' the name of him." +</p> +<p> +"Is it possible!" said Mr. Brooks, looking very much pleased. +</p> +<p> +"Uncle 'Gustus has curly hair on his cheeks, on his mouf, all round. +<i>Not</i> little prickles, sticking out like needles." +</p> +<p> +"O, you girl!" said Bennie, frowning at Fly. "You mustn't laugh at my +pa's beard. There's a man comes in, sometimes, and shaves him nice; but +now the man's gone to Newark." +</p> +<p> +"Is it possible," repeated Mrs. Brooks, taking the child's hand, "that +this is Colonel Allen's little niece, and my Maria found her!" +</p> +<p> +"Your Maria didn't find me," said Fly, decidedly; "I founded Maria." +</p> +<p> +"So she did, pa. The first thing I knew, I heard somebody calling, +Doggie, doggie,' in such a sweet voice; and then I looked—no, of course +I <i>couldn't</i> look." +</p> +<p> +Here the discouraged look came over Maria's mouth, and she said no more. +</p> +<p> +"There, there, cheer up, daughter," said Mr. Brooks, with tears in his +eyes; "I was only going on to say, it is passing strange that any of our +family should run afoul of one of the colonel's folks." +</p> +<p> +"It's the Lord's doings; I haven't the slightest doubt of it," said Mrs. +Brooks, earnestly. "You know what I've been saying to you, pa." +</p> +<p> +"There, there, ma'am, <i>don't</i>," said Mr. Brooks; "don't go to raising +false hopes. You know I'm too proud to beg of anybody's folks." +</p> +<p> +"Why, pa, I shouldn't call it begging just to tell Colonel Allen how you +are situated! Do you suppose, if he knew the facts of the case, he'd be +willing to let you suffer? Such a faithful man as you used to be to +work." +</p> +<p> +"No, I think it's likely he wouldn't. He's got more heart than some rich +folks; but I hain't no sort of claim on the colonel, if I did help build +his house. And then, ma'am, you know I've been kind o' hopin'—" +</p> +<p> +"Guess I'll go now, and find Hollis," said Fly, slipping down from the +bed, for the talk did not interest her. +</p> +<p> +"O, but I want to go with you, Katie," said Mrs. Brooks, coaxingly. +"Bennie, you amuse her, while I change my dress." +</p> + + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="CH9"><!-- CH9 --></a> +<h2> + CHAPTER IX. +</h2> + +<h3> +MARIA'S MOTHER. +</h3><p> </p> +<p> +"I know your uncle must feel dreadfully to lose you; but never +mind—he'll see you soon," said Mr. Brooks. +</p> +<p> +"O, Uncle 'Gustus isn't there." +</p> +<p> +"Not there?" said Mrs. Brooks, turning round from the cracked +looking-glass. "Where then?" +</p> +<p> +"O, he's gone off." +</p> +<p> +"Gone off? Why, pa, ain't that too bad? I'm right up and down +disappointed. But, then, the colonel has a wife; I can go to see her, +you know; and I'll tell her just how you're situ—" +</p> +<p> +"My Aunt Madge is gone off, too." +</p> +<p> +"You don't say so!" +</p> +<p> +"And my brother Hollis is gone." +</p> +<p> +"This is a funny piece of work if it's true," said Mr. Brooks, with +another genuine laugh; "you'd better ask her a few more questions before +you start out. Who else is gone? Have they shut the house up?" +</p> +<p> +"Yes, sir; shut it right up tight." +</p> +<p> +"Nobody in it, at all?" +</p> +<p> +"No, only the men and women. Prudy's gone, and Dotty Dimple's gone, and +I'm gone." +</p> +<p> +"Only the men and women, she says. That must be the servants. So the +house must be open, pa. At any rate, I shall take her. Say by-bye, my +pretty, and we'll be starting." +</p> +<p> +Fly was very glad to go, but Maria clung to her fondly, and Bennie ran +after her almost to Broadway, where Mrs. Brooks took a Fifth Avenue +stage. She knew Colonel Allen's house very well, for she had seen it +more than once, while it was in process of building. That was two or +three years ago, when her husband was well, and the family lived very +comfortably on Thirty-third Street. She sighed as she thought how +different it was now. Mr. Brooks would never be able to work any more; +they hardly had food enough to eat, and poor Maria had lost her +eyesight. +</p> +<p> +"Here we are, little Katie," said she. +</p> +<p> +But the child did not wait to be helped out; she danced down the steps, +and would have flown across the street, if Mrs. Brooks had not caught +her. +</p> +<p> +"I see it—I see it; my auntie's house. But there isn't nobody to it." +</p> +<p> +The man who met them at the door was so surprised and delighted to see +Fly, that he forgot his manners, and did not ask Mrs. Brooks in. +</p> +<p> +"Bless us, the baby's found!" cried he, and ran to spread the news. +</p> +<p> +Aunt Madge was walking the parlor floor, and Horace sitting on the sofa, +as rigid as the marble elf Puck, just over his head. Prudy and Dotty had +joined hands, and were crying softly on the rug. As the police had been +notified of Fly's loss, all the family had to do was to wait. A servant +was at the nearest telegraph office, with a horse and carriage, and at +the first tidings would drive home and report. +</p> +<p> +The words "The baby's found" rang through the house like a peal of +bells. In an instant Flyaway Runaway was clasped in everybody's arms, +and wet with everybody's tears. +</p> +<p> +"Thought I'd come back," said the little truant, peeping up at her +agitated friends' with some surprise; "thought I'd come back and get my +skipt!" +</p> +<p> +Then they exclaimed, in chorus,— +</p> +<p> +"Topknot <i>shall</i> have her skipt! The blessed baby! The darling old Fly!" +</p> +<p> +And Dotty wound up by saying,— +</p> +<p> +"Why, you see, we thought you's dead!" +</p> +<p> +Flyaway, who had at first been very much astonished at the fuss made +over her, now looked deeply offended. +</p> +<p> +"Who said I's dead? What—a—drefful—lie!" +</p> +<p> +"O, nobody said so, Fly; only we thought p'rhaps you was; and <i>what</i> +would we do without you, you know?" +</p> +<p> +"Why, if I's dead," said Fly, untying her bonnet strings, "then the +funy-yal would come round and take me; that's all." +</p> +<p> +"We are most grateful to you," said Aunt Madge, turning to Mrs. Brooks, +"for bringing home this lost child; but do tell us where you found her." +</p> +<p> +Then Mrs. Brooks related all she knew of Fly's wanderings, the little +one putting in her own explanations. +</p> +<p> +"I didn' be lost," said she sharply. "I feel jus' like frettin', when +you say I's lost. 'Tis the truly truth; I's walking on the streets, and +a naughty woman, she's got my hangerfiss—had ashes roses on it." +</p> +<p> +"Yes, I put some otto of rose on it this morning," said Prudy. "What a +shame!" +</p> +<p> +"And I gave my flowers to the sick man. He was on the bed, with a blue +bed-kilt. A girl name o' Maria, tookened me home. The seeingness is all +gone out of her eyes, so she can't see." +</p> +<p> +"How long has your husband been sick?" asked Mrs. Allen of the woman, +while she was taking lunch in the dining-room. "Did you tell me he knew +Colonel Allen?" +</p> +<p> +Mrs. Brooks dropped her knife and fork; but her lips trembled so she +could not speak. Flyaway, who sat in Horace's lap, eating ginger-snaps, +exclaimed, "She wants some perjerves, auntie. She don't get no +perjerves, nor nuffin nice to her house." +</p> +<p> +"'Sh!" whispered Horace. The woman looked so respectable and well bred, +that it seemed a great rudeness to allude to her poverty. +</p> +<p> +But Mrs. Brooks drank some water, and then answered Aunt Madge, +calmly,— +</p> +<p> +"I'm not ashamed of being poor, Mrs. Allen; it's no disgrace, for there +never was an honester man than my husband, nor none that worked harder, +till a beam fell on him from the roof of a house, two years ago, and he +lost the use of his limbs.—Yes, ma'am; he did use to know your husband. +He was one of the workmen that helped build this house. I came and +looked on when he was setting these very doors." +</p> +<p> +"What is his name?" asked Aunt Madge, looking very much interested, and +taking out her note-book and pencil. "What street and number?" +</p> +<p> +"Cyrus Brooks, Number Blank, Blank Street, ma'am. Before the accident, +we lived on Thirty-third Street, in very good shape; but, little by +little, we were obliged to sell off, and finally had to move into pretty +snug quarters. But we've always got enough to eat, such as it was," +added the good woman, trying not to show much she enjoyed her lunch. +</p> +<p> +"I am very glad Providence has sent you here, Mrs. Brooks," said Aunt +Madge, warmly. "I know Colonel Allen will seek you out when he comes +home next week; but I shall not wait for that; I shall write him this +very night." +</p> +<p> +Mrs. Brooks' heart was so full that she had to cry into a coarse purple +handkerchief of Bennie's, which happened to be in her pocket, and felt +very much ashamed because she could not find her voice again, or any +words in which to tell her gratitude. It was just as well, though. Mrs. +Allen knew words were not everything. It gave her pleasure to fill a +huge basket with nice things—wine and jelly for the sick man, plain +food for the family, and a pretty woolen dress for Maria, which had been +intended for Mrs. Fixfax, the housekeeper. +</p> +<p> +The children looked on delighted, while the basket was filled with +these articles, then passed over to Nathaniel, who was going home with +Mrs. Brooks. It was amusing to watch Nathaniel, with the monstrous +burden in his hands trying to help Mrs. Brooks down the front steps; for +Aunt Madge was not enough of a fine lady to send the pair around by the +servants' door. +</p> +<p> +It was pleasant, too, to watch Mrs. Brooks's happy face, half hidden in +the hood of her water-proof cloak, which kept puffing out, in the high +wind, like a sail. She was going home to tell her husband the Lord had +heard her prayers, and she had found a friend. +</p> +<p> +"And you may depend I never talked so easy to anybody in my life, pa;" +this was what she thought she should say. "I didn't <i>have</i> to beg. Mrs. +Allen is one of the Lord's own; I saw it the minute I clapped my eyes +on her face." +</p> +<p> +"I am going to see that woman to-morrow, and ask some questions about +her blind daughter," said Aunt Madge, turning away from the window. +</p> +<p> +"Ask 'bout her nose, too." +</p> +<p> +"Whose nose, Fly?" +</p> +<p> +"The woman's. It keeps a-moving when she talks." +</p> +<p> +"There, who else noticed that?" exclaimed Horace, tossing his young +sister aloft. "It takes Fly, with her little eye, to see things." +</p> +<p> +"But I didn't ask her nuffin 'bout it, though, Horace Clifford. God made +her so, with a wire in." +</p> +<p> +Everybody smiled at the notion of Mrs. Brooks being a wax doll. +</p> +<p> +"What a queer day it has been!" said Prudy. "Nothing but hide and seek. +We'll all keep together next time, and lock hands tight." +</p> +<p> +"Of course," said Dotty, quickly; "but look here; don't you think +'twould be safer not to let Fly go with us? She was the one that made +all the fuss." +</p> +<p> +"Want to know if she was," said Horace, slyly. "Guess there are two +sides to that story." +</p> +<p> +"At any rate," struck in Aunt Madge, "Fly was the one that did the most +business. You went round doing good—didn't you, dear?" +</p> +<p> +"Little city missionary," said Horace. +</p> +<p> +Whereupon Miss Fly modestly dropped her head on her brother's shoulder. +She concluded she had done something wonderful in running after a dog. +</p> +<p> +"On the whole," continued auntie, "we've all had a very hard time. It's +only three o'clock; but seems to me the day has been forty hours long. +Let us rest, now, and have a quiet little evening, and go to bed early." +</p> + + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="CH10"><!-- CH10 --></a> +<h2> + CHAPTER X. +</h2> + +<h3> +FIVE MAKING A CALL. +</h3><p> </p> +<p> +The next morning everybody felt fresh, and ready for new adventures. +</p> +<p> +"All going but the cat," said Fly, never doubting that her own company +was most desirable. +</p> +<p> +"Look up in my eyes, little Topknot with the blue bonnet on. Will you +run away from brother Hollis again?" +</p> +<p> +"Not if you don't take my skipt," replied Fly, looking as innocent as a +spring violet. +</p> +<p> +"And look up in <i>my</i> eyes, Horace Clifford. Will you run away from +Cousin Dotty, again?" said Miss Dimple, in a hurry to speak before Aunt +Madge came up to them, and before Horace had time for a joke. +</p> +<p> +"I didn't run away from you, young lady, but I ran <i>after</i> you, if I +remember," said Horace, dryly. "I don't mean to pursue you with my +attentions to-day. You seem to be able to take care of yourself." +</p> +<p> +"Look," cried Aunt Madge, coming up to them with Prudy; "did you ever +before see a span of horses with a dog running between them?" +</p> +<p> +"Never," said Doty; "what splendid horses! and don't the dog have to +trot, to keep up? How do you suppose he happened to get in there?" +</p> +<p> +"O, he has been trained to it; dogs often are. Now, my young friends, it +seems we have started for Brooklyn again; but on our way to Fulton +Ferry, I would like to stop and see the Brooks family. We must all go +together, though. 'United we stand, divided we fall.'" +</p> +<p> +"That's so," said Horace, as they entered the stage. "But, auntie, do +you have perfect faith in the story that woman tells? Perhaps her +hushand is only just lazy, and her daughter shams blindness. You know +what humbugs some of 'em are. I've read there's something they rub over +their eyes, that gives 'em the appearance of being as blind as a bat." +</p> +<p> +Prudy looked up at Horace with admiration and respect. He spoke like a +person of deep wisdom and wide experience. +</p> +<p> +"We will see for ourselves what we think of the family," said Aunt +Madge. +</p> +<p> +"Now," said she, after they had ridden a mile or two, "we must get out +here, and walk a few blocks to the house. Fly, hold your brother's hand +tight." +</p> +<p> +"There's the chamer where the boy lives that says swear words; and +there's the boy, ahind the window." +</p> +<p> +"Have a free ride, little girl?" shouted Izzy Paul, laughing; for he +remembered faces as well as Fly did, and saw at once that it was the +same child he had frightened so the day before. But Fly never knew fear +where Horace was; she clung to him, and peeped out boldly between her +fingers. +</p> +<p> +When they went "down cellow," as she called it, into Mr. Brooks's house, +Aunt Madge was surprised to see how bare it looked. But Dotty Dimple +need not have held her skirts so tightly about her, and brushed her +elbow so carefully when it hit against the wall; for the house was as +clean as hands could make it. +</p> +<p> +"Mrs. Brooks, I hope you will forgive me for coming down upon you with +this little army," said Mrs. Allen, with such a cheery smile that the +sick man on the bed felt as if a flood of pure sunshine had burst into +the room. He was so tired of lying there, day after day, like a great +rag baby, and so glad to see anybody, especially the good lady who, his +wife said, was "so easy to talk to!" +</p> +<p> +"Auntie, look! see the freckled doggie; and there's my flowers, true's +you live," cried Flyaway. +</p> +<p> +"Yes, pa wanted them in a vial, close to his bed; it's the first he's +seen this winter," said Maria, stroking Fly as if she had been a kitten. +</p> +<p> +"You may be sure, little lady, it will be as I said; they'll cure me +full as quick as camphire. And, thank the Lord, I can see as well as +smell," said Mr. Brooks, with a tender glance at Maria which made +Horace feel ashamed of himself. The idea of that poor child's rubbing +anything into her eyes? Why, she looked like a wounded bird that had +been out in a storm. Her face was really almost beautiful, but so sad +that you could not see it without a feeling of pity. +</p> +<p> +"She looks as if she was walking in her sleep," thought Prudy, and +turned away to hide a tear; for somehow there was a chord in her heart +that thrilled strangely. That "slow winter" came back to her with a +rush, and she was sure she knew how Maria felt. +</p> +<p> +"She is blind, and I was lame; but it is the same kind of a feeling. O, +how I wish I could help her!" +</p> +<p> +Dotty was as sorry for Maria as she knew how to be, but she could not be +as sorry as Prudy was; for she had never had any trouble greater than a +sore throat. +</p> +<p> +"I don't see why the tears don't come into my eyes as easy as they do +into Prudy's," thought she, trying to squeeze out a salt drop; "Mrs. +Brooks'll think I don't care a speck; but I do care." +</p> +<p> +As for wee Fly, she took Maria's blindness to heart about as much as she +did the murder of the Hebrew children off in Judea. +</p> +<p> +"Pitiful 'bout her seeingness; but I wished I had such a beauful dog!" +</p> +<p> +Aunt Madge was struck with the exalted expression of Maria's face. The +child was only thirteen, but suffering had made her look much older. +</p> +<p> +"My child," said she, putting her arm around the little girl, and +drawing her towards her, "I know you see a great deal with your mind, +even though your eyes are shut. Now, do tell me all about your +misfortune, and how it happened, for I came on purpose to hear." +</p> +<p> +"Yes, we camed to purpose to hear," said Fly, from the foot-board of the +bed, where she had perched and prattled every moment since she came in. +"I founded Maria, and then I went up to her, and says I, 'Doggie, +doggie!'" +</p> +<p> +"That was a pretty way to speak to her, I should think," said Dotty; +"but can't you just please to hush while auntie is talking?" +</p> +<p> +"As near as I can tell the story," said Mrs. Brooks, rattling the poor +old coal-stove,—for she always had to be moving something else, as well +as her nose, when she talked,—"she lost her sight by studying too +hard, and then getting cold in her eyes." +</p> +<p> +"She was always a master hand to study," put in Mr. Brooks. +</p> +<p> +Maria looked as if she wanted to run and hide. She did not like to have +her father praise her before people. +</p> +<p> +"Yes," said Mrs. Brooks, setting a chair straight; "and by and by the +<i>leds</i> began to draw together, and she couldn't keep 'em open; and there +was such a pain in her eyes, too, that I had to be up nights, bathing +'em in all kinds of messes." +</p> +<p> +"<i>Don't</i> her nose jiggle?" whispered Fly to Horace. +</p> +<p> +"Of course you took her to a good physician?" +</p> +<p> +"Well, yes; we thought he was good. We went to three, off and on, but +she kept growing worse and worse. It was about the time her father was +hurt, and we spent an awful sight on her, till we couldn't spend any +more." +</p> +<p> +"And it was all a cheat and a swindle," exclaimed Mr. Brooks, +indignantly. "We'd better have spent the money for a horsewhip, and +whipped them doctors with it!" +</p> +<p> +"Don't, pa, don't! You see, Mrs. Allen, he gets so excited about it he +don't know what he says." +</p> +<p> +"I wonder you did not take her to the City Hospital, Mrs. Brooks. There +she could be treated free of expense." +</p> +<p> +"The fact is, we didn't dare to," replied Mrs. Brooks, taking up an old +shoe of Bennie's, and beginning to brush it; "there are folks that have +told us it ain't safe; they try experiments on poor folks." +</p> +<p> +"O, I don't believe you need fear the City Hospital," said Mrs. Allen; +"the physicians there are honest men, and among the most skillful in +the country." +</p> +<p> +"But that's our feeling on the subject, ma'am, you see," spoke up Mr. +Brooks, so decidedly, that Aunt Madge saw it was of no use to say any +more about it. "We don't want her eyes put out; there are times when she +can just see a little glimmer, and we want to save all there is left." +</p> +<p> +"There are times when she can see? Then there must be hope, Mr. Brooks! +Let me take her to Dr. Blank; he can help her if any one can." +</p> +<p> +"Well, now, I take it you're joking, Mrs. Allen. That is the very doctor +I wanted her to see in the first place; but they do say he'd ask six +hundred dollars for looking into her eyes while you'd wink twice." +</p> +<p> +"You have been misinformed, Mr. Brooks; he never asks anything of +people who are unable to pay him. But even if he should in Maria's case, +I promise to take the matter into my own hands, and settle the bill +myself." +</p> +<p> +"Mother, do you hear what she says!" cried Mr. Brooks, forgetting +himself, and trying to sit up in bed. +</p> +<p> +But his wife had broken down, and was polishing Bennie's shoe with her +tears. +</p> +<p> +"O, will you take me? Can I go to that doctor?" cried Maria, forgetting +her timidity, and turning her sightless eyes towards Mrs. Allen with a +joyful look, which seemed to glow through the lids. +</p> +<p> +"Yes, dear child, I will take you with the greatest pleasure in life; +but remember, I don't promise you can be cured. Come with your mother, +to-morrow morning, at ten. Will that do, Mrs. Brooks? And now, good by, +all. Children, we must certainly be going." +</p> +<p> +"God bless her," murmured the sick man, as the little party passed out. +</p> +<p> +"Didn't I tell you she was an angel?" said his wife. +</p> +<p> +"No, mother; it's that little tot that's the 'angel.' The Lord sent her +on ahead to spy out the land; and afterwards there comes a +flesh-and-blood woman to see it laid straight." +</p> +<p> +"Pa thinks that baby is a spirit made out of air," said Maria, laughing +in high excitement. "And, mother, don't you really believe now the Lord +did send her, just as much as if she dropped down out of the sky?" +</p> +<p> +"Yes, I hain't a doubt of it, Maria, but what the Lord had us in his +mind when he let the child slip off and get lost.—Pa, I'm going to +give you some of that blackberry cordial now: you look all gone." +</p> + + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="CH11"><!-- CH11 --></a> +<h2> + CHAPTER XI. +</h2> + +<h3> +"THE HEN-HOUSES." +</h3><p> </p> +<p> +While the Brooks family were talking so gratefully, and Maria counting +over the cookies and cups of jelly for the twentieth time, Fly, was +holding on to Horace's thumb, saying, as she skipped along,—"I hope the +doctor'll take a knife, and pick Maria's eyes open, so she can see." +</p> +<p> +"Precious little <i>you</i> care whether she can see or not," said Dotty. "I +don't think Fly has much feeling,—do you, Prudy?—not like you and I, I +mean!" +</p> +<p> +"Pshaw! what do you expect of such a baby?" said Horace, indignantly. +"You never saw a child so full of pity as this one is, when she knows +what to be sorry for. But a great deal she understands about blindness! +And why should she?—Look here, Topknot; which would you rather do? Have +your eyes put out, and lots of candy to eat, <i>or</i>, your eyes all good, +and not a speck of candy as long as you live?" +</p> +<p> +"I'd ravver have the candy '<i>thout</i> blind-eyed?" +</p> +<p> +"But supposing you couldn't have but one?" +</p> +<p> +Fly reflected seriously for half a minute, and then answered, +</p> +<p> +"I'd ravver have the candy <i>with</i> blind-eyed!" +</p> +<p> +"There, girls, what did I tell you?" +</p> +<p> +"'Cause I could eat the candy athout looking, you know," added Fly, +shutting her eyes, and putting a sprig of cedar in her mouth, by way of +experiment. +</p> +<p> +"You little goosie," said Prudy; "when Aunt Madge was crying so about +Maria, I did think you were a hard-hearted thing to look up and laugh; +but now, I don't believe you knew any better." +</p> +<p> +"Hard-hearted things will soften," said auntie, kissing the baby's +puzzled face. "Little bits of green apples, how hard they are! but they +keep growing mellow." +</p> +<p> +"O, you little green apple," cried Dotty, pinching Fly's cheek. +</p> +<p> +"I was rather hard-hearted, if I remember, when I was an apple of that +size," continued Aunt Madge. "I could tell you of a few cruel things I +said and did." +</p> +<p> +"Tell them," said Horace; "please 'fess." +</p> +<p> +"Yes, auntie, naughty things are so interesting. Do begin and tell all +about it." +</p> +<p> +"Not on the street, dears. Some time, during the holidays, I may turn +story-teller, if you wish it; but here we are at the ferry; now look out +for the mud." +</p> +<p> +"O, what a place," cried Fly, clinging to Horace, and trying to walk on +his boots. "Just like where grampa keeps his pig!" +</p> +<p> +"How true, little sister! but you needn't use my feet for a sidewalk. +I'll take you up in my arms. It snowed in the night; but that makes it +all the muddier." +</p> +<p> +"Yes, it doesn't do snow any good to fall into New York mud," said Aunt +Madge; "it is like touching pitch." +</p> +<p> +"I thought it felt like pitch," remarked Dotty; "sticks to your boots +so." +</p> +<p> +"But, then, overhead how beautiful it is!" said Prudy. "I should think +the dirty earth would be ashamed to look up at such a clear sky." +</p> +<p> +"But the sky don't mind," returned Horace; "it always overlooks dirt." +</p> +<p> +"How very sharp we are getting!" laughed auntie; "we have begun the day +brilliantly. Any more remarks from anybody?" +</p> +<p> +"I should like to know," said Dotty, "what all those great wooden things +are made for? I never saw such big hen-houses before!" +</p> +<p> +"Hear her talk!" exclaimed auntie. "Hen-houses, indeed! Why, that is +Fulton Market. I shall take you through it when we come back. You can +buy anything in there, from a live eel to a book of poetry." +</p> +<p> +"'In mud eel is,'" quoted Horace. "Reckon I'll buy one, auntie, and +carry it home in a piece of brown paper. I believe Dotty is fond of +eels." +</p> +<p> +"Fond of eels! Why, Horace Clifford, you know I can't bear 'em, any +more'n a snake. If you do such a thing, Horace Clifford!" +</p> +<p> +Here Prudy gave her talkative sister a pinch; for they were surrounded +by people, and Aunt Madge was giving ferry-tickets to a man who stood in +a stall, and brushed them towards him into a drawer. +</p> +<p> +"Does he stay in it all night?" whispered Fly; "he can't lie down, no +more'n a hossy can." +</p> +<p> +"Here, child, don't try to get down out of my arms. I must carry you +into the boat. Do you suppose I'd trust those wee, wee feet to go flying +over East River?" +</p> +<p> +"For don't we know she has wings on her heels?" said Aunt Madge. +</p> +<p> +Fly twisted around one of her little rubbers, and looked at it. She +understood the joke, but thought it too silly to laugh at. East River +lay smiling in the sun, white with sails. +</p> +<p> +"Almost as pretty as our Casco Bay," said Dotty. "'Winona;' is that the +boat we are going in? But, Horace, you must cross to the other side, +where it says 'Gentlemen's Cabin.'" +</p> +<p> +"How kind you are to take care of me! Wish you'd take as good care of +yourself, Cousin Dimple." +</p> +<p> +And Horace walked straight into the "Ladies' Cabin." There were more men +in it, though, than women; so he had the best side of the argument. +</p> +<p> +"Horace," said Aunt Madge, as they seated themselves, "where is your +money?" +</p> +<p> +"Money? O, in the breast pocket of my coat." +</p> +<p> +"But don't you remember, my boy, I advised you to leave it at home? See +that placard, right before your eyes." +</p> +<p> +"'Beware of Pickpockets!'" read Horace. "Well, auntie, I intend to +beware." +</p> +<p> +Mrs. Allen did not like his lord-of-creation tone. It was not exactly +disrespectful. He adored his aunt, and did not mean to snub her. At the +same time he had paid no attention to her advice, and his cool, +self-possessed way of setting it one side was very irritating. If Mrs. +Allen had not been the sweetest of women, she would have enjoyed boxing +his ears. +</p> +<p> +"I wish he was two years younger, and then he would have to obey me," +thought she; "but I don't like to lay my commands on a boy of fourteen." +</p> +<p> +The truth was, Horace had a large swelling on the top of his head, known +by the name of self-esteem; and it had got bruised a little the day +before, when he was obliged to stand one side, and let his aunt manage +about finding Flyaway. +</p> +<p> +"I suppose she thinks I'm a ninny, just because I don't understand this +bothersome city; but I reckon I know a thing or two, if I don't live in +New York!" +</p> +<p> +And the foolish boy really took some satisfaction in slapping his breast +pockets, and remarking to his friends,— +</p> +<p> +"'Twould take a smart chap to get his hand in there without my knowing +it. O, Prudy, where's your wallet? And yours, Dotty? I can carry them as +well as not. There's no knowing what kind of a muss you may be getting +into before night." +</p> +<p> +Prudy gave up hers without a word, but Dotty demurred. +</p> +<p> +"I guess I've got eyes both sides my head, just the same as Horace has, +if I am a girl." +</p> +<p> +She and Cousin Horace usually agreed, but this visit had begun wrong. +</p> +<p> +"Very well, Dot; if you think 'twould be any consolation to you to have +somebody come along with a pair of scissors, and snip off your pocket, I +don't know as it's any of my business." +</p> +<p> +"See if they do," replied Dotty, clutching her pocket in her right hand. +</p> +<p> +They had been speaking in loud tones, and perhaps had been overheard; +for two men, on the same seat, began to talk of the unusual number of +robberies that had happened within a few days and to wonder "what we +were coming to next." In consequence of this, Dotty pinned up her +pocket. When they reached Brooklyn, she gave her left hand to Horace, in +stepping off the boat, and walked up Fulton Street, with her right hand +firmly grasping the skirt of her dress. +</p> +<p> +"Good for you, Dimple!" said Horace, in a low tone; "that's one way of +letting people know you've got money. Look behind you! There's been a +man following you for some time." +</p> +<p> +"Where? O, where?" cried Dotty, whirling round and round in wild alarm; +"I don't see a man anywhere near." +</p> +<p> +"And there isn't one to be seen," said Aunt Madge, laughing; "there's +nobody following you but Horace himself. He had no right to frighten you +so." +</p> +<p> +"Horace!" echoed Dotty, with infinite scorn; "I don't call <i>him</i> a man! +He's nothing but a small boy!" +</p> +<p> +"A small boy!" She had finished the business now. +</p> +<p> +"The hateful young monkey!" thought Horace. "I shouldn't care much if +she did have her pocket picked." +</p> +<p> +If he had meant a word of this, which he certainly did not, he was well +paid for it afterwards. +</p> +<p> +They went to Greenwood Cemetery, which Dotty had to confess was +handsomer than the one in Portland. Fly thought there were nice places +to "hide ahind the little white houses," which frightened her brother so +much, that he carried her in his arms every step of the way. After +strolling for some time about Greenwood, and taking a peep at Prospect +Park, they left the "city of churches," and entered a crowded car to go +back to the ferry. +</p> +<p> +"Look out for <i>our</i> money," whispered Prudy; "you know auntie says a car +is the very place to lose it in." +</p> +<p> +"Yes; I'll look out for your pile, Prue, though I dare say you don't +feel quite so easy about it as you would if Dot had it." +</p> +<p> +"Wow, Horace, don't be cross; you know it isn't often I have so much +money." +</p> +<p> +Aunt Madge here gave both the children a very expressive glance, as much +as to say,— +</p> +<p> +"Don't mention private affairs in such a crowd." +</p> +<p> +Colonel Allen said if his wife had been born deaf and dumb nobody would +have mistrusted it, for she could talk with her eyes as well as other +people with their tongues. +</p> +<p> +When they were on the New York side once more, Mrs. Allen said,— +</p> +<p> +"Now I will take you through Dotty's hen-houses. What have we here? O, +Christmas greens." +</p> +<p> +A woman stood at one of the stands, tying holly and evergreens together +into long strips, which she sold by the yard. +</p> +<p> +"We must adorn the house, children. I will buy some of this, if you will +help carry it home." +</p> +<p> +"Load me down," said Horace; "I'll take a mile of it." +</p> +<p> +"Loaden me down, too; <i>I'll</i> take it a mile," said Fly. +</p> +<p> +"Give me that beautiful cross to carry, auntie." +</p> +<p> +"Are you willing to carry crosses, Prudy? Ah, you've learned the lesson +young!" +</p> +<p> +"I like the star best," said Dotty; "why can't they make suns and moons, +too!" +</p> +<p> +"Will you have a <i>hanker</i>, my pretty miss?" said the woman, dropping a +courtesy. +</p> +<p> +"I never heard of a <i>hanker</i>; it looks some like a kettle-hook. Let's +buy it; see how nicely it fits on Fly's shoulder." +</p> +<p> +"It would look better for Fly to sit on the anchor," said Mrs. Allen, +smiling. "It is droll enough to see such a big thing walking off with a +little girl under it. Come, children, we have bought all we can carry." +</p> +<p> +"Thank you kindly, lady," said the evergreen woman, with another +courtesy. +</p> +<p> +"I don't see why she need thank you kindly, auntie," said Dotty. "You +wouldn't have bought her wreaths if you hadn't liked 'em." +</p> +<p> +They walked through a long space lined with such nice things that the +children's mouths watered—oranges, figs, grapes, pears, French +chestnuts larger than oil-nuts, and, as if that were not enough, +delicious-looking pies, cakes, cold ham, and doughnuts. On little +charcoal stoves stood coffee-pots; and there was a great clattering of +plates and cups and saucers, which men were washing in little pans, and +wiping on rather dark towels. +</p> +<p> +"It strikes me I should enjoy going into one of those cuddy-holes and +eating my dinner," said Horace. "I feel about starved." +</p> +<p> +"You have a right to be hungry. It is two o'clock. How would you like +some oysters? In here is a large room, with tables; rather more +comfortable than these 'cuddy-holes,' as you call them." +</p> +<p> +"Only not nice," said Prudy. "O, Horace, if you should go once to an +oyster saloon in Boston, you'd see the difference!" +</p> +<p> +"The probability is, I've been in Boston saloons twice to your once, +ma'am." +</p> +<p> +Which was correct. She had been once, and he twice. +</p> + + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="CH12"><!-- CH12 --></a> +<h2> + CHAPTER XII. +</h2> + +<h3> +"GRANNY." +</h3><p> </p> +<p> +Aunt Madge seated her four guests at a little table. +</p> +<p> +"Will you have oysters or scallops?" +</p> +<p> +"What are scallops?" +</p> +<p> +"They are a sort of fish; taste a little like oysters. They come out of +those small shells, such as you've seen pin-cushions made of." +</p> +<p> +The children thought they should prefer oysters; and after the stews +were ordered, Mrs. Allen went out, and soon returned with a dessert of +cake, pie, and fruit. +</p> +<p> +"I thought I would bring it all at once," said she, "just what I know +you will like; and then sit down and be comfortable. We'll lay the +wreaths under the table. There are no napkins, girls (this isn't Boston, +you know); so you'd better tuck your handkerchiefs under your chins." +</p> +<p> +"But is this the handsomest place they've got in New York, without any +carpet to it?" whispered Dotty. +</p> +<p> +"We'll see, one of these days," replied auntie, with a smile that spoke +volumes. +</p> +<p> +It was a very jolly dinner, and Mrs. Allen had to send for three plates +of scallops; for the children found, after tasting hers, that they were +very nice; all but Fly, who did not relish them, and thought it was +because she did not like to eat pin-cushions. +</p> +<p> +"Now, little folks, if you have eaten sufficiently, and are thoroughly +rested, shall we start for home? I think a journey to Brooklyn is about +enough for one day—don't you? But you musn't leave without seeing +Granny." +</p> +<p> +"Granny?" +</p> +<p> +"Yes, I call her so, and it pleases her. She has had a little table in +the market for a long while, and I like to buy some of her goodies just +to encourage her, for she has such a way of looking on the bright side +that she wins my respect. Listen, now, while I speak to her." +</p> +<p> +Auntie's old woman had on a hood and shawl, and was curled up in a +little heap, half asleep. +</p> +<p> +"Pleasant day," said Mrs. Allen, going up to the table. +</p> +<p> +"Yes, mum; nice weather <i>underful</i>," returned the old woman, rousing +herself, and rubbing an apple with her shawl. +</p> +<p> +"And how do you do, Granny?" +</p> +<p> +"Why, is that you?" said she, the sun coming out all over her face. +"And how've you been, mum, since the last time I've seen yer?" +</p> +<p> +"Very well, Granny; and how do things prosper with you?" +</p> +<p> +"O, <i>I'm</i> all right! I've had a touch of rheumaty, and this is the fust +I've stirred for two weeks." +</p> +<p> +"Sorry to hear it, Granny. Rheumatism can't be very comfortable." +</p> +<p> +"Well, no; it's bahd for the jints," said the old woman, holding up her +fingers, which were as shapeless as knobby potatoes. +</p> +<p> +"Poor Granny! How hard that is!" +</p> +<p> +"Well, they be hard, and kind o' stiff-like. But bless ye," laughed she, +"that's nothing. I wouldn't 'a' cared, only I's afeared I'd lose this +stand. There was a gyurl come and kep' it for me, what time she could +spare." +</p> +<p> +"I'm glad you havn't lost the stand, Granny; but I don't see how you can +laugh at the rheumatism." +</p> +<p> +"Well, mum, what'd be the use to cry? Why, bless ye, there's wus +things'n that! As long's I hain't got no husband, I don't feel to +complain!" +</p> +<p> +She shook her sides so heartily at this, that Fly laughed aloud. +</p> +<p> +"So you don't approve of husbands, Granny?" +</p> +<p> +"No more I don't, mum; they're troublesome craychers, so fur as I've +seen." +</p> +<p> +"But don't you get down-hearted, living all alone?" +</p> +<p> +"O, no, mum; I do suppose I'm the happiest woman in the city o' New +Yorruk. When I goes to bed, I just gives up all my thrubbles to the +Lord, and goes to sleep." +</p> +<p> +"But when you are sick, Granny?" +</p> +<p> +"O, then, sometimes I feels bahd, not to be airnin' nothin', and gets +some afeard o' the poorhouse; but, bless ye, I can't help thinking the +Lord'll keep me out." +</p> +<p> +"I'm pretty sure He will," said Aunt Madge, resolving on the spot that +the good old soul never should go to a place she dreaded so much. "Have +you any butter-scotch to-day, Granny?" +</p> +<p> +"O, yes, mum; sights of it. Help yourself. I want to tell you +something'll please you," said the old woman, bending forward, and +speaking in a low tone, and with sparkling eyes. "I've put some money in +the bank, mum; enough to bury me! <i>Ain't</i> that good!" +</p> +<p> +Prudy and Dotty were terribly shocked. She must be crazy to talk about +her own funeral. As if she was glad of it, too? But Horace thought it a +capital joke. +</p> +<p> +"That's a jolly way to use your money," whispered he to Prudy; "much +good may it do her?" And then aloud, in a patronizing tone, "I'll take a +few of your apples, Granny. How do you sell 'em?" +</p> +<p> +"These here, a penny apiece; them there, two pennies; and them, three." +</p> +<p> +Horace felt in his coat pocket for his purse; and drew out his hand +quickly, as if a bee had stung it. +</p> +<p> +"Why, what! What does this mean?" +</p> +<p> +"What is it, Horace?" +</p> +<p> +"Nothing, auntie, only my wallet's gone," replied the boy, very white +about the mouth. +</p> +<p> +"Gone? Look again. Are you sure?" +</p> +<p> +"Yes, as sure as I want to be?" +</p> +<p> +"Mine,—is mine gone too?" cried Prudy. +</p> +<p> +Horace did not seem willing to answer. +</p> +<p> +"Where did you have your purse last?" +</p> +<p> +"Just before we came out of Dorlon's oyster saloon. Just before we came +here for butter-scotch," replied Horace, glaring fiercely at Granny. +</p> +<p> +"Are you quite sure?" +</p> +<p> +"Is mine gone, too?" cried Prudy again. "Did you put mine in the same +pocket?" +</p> +<p> +"Yes, Prue; I put yours in the same pocket; and it's gone, too." +</p> +<p> +"O, Horace!" +</p> +<p> +"A pretty clean sweep, Prue." +</p> +<p> +"The <i>vilyins</i>!" cried Granny; looking, auntie thought, as if her whole +soul was stirred with pity for the children; but, as Horace thought, as +if she were trying to put a bold face on a very black crime. +</p> +<p> +"Let us go back to Dorlon's, and ask the waiters if you dropped it in +there," suggested Aunt Madge. +</p> +<p> +"Yes, but <i>I know I didn't,"</i> said Horace, with another scowl at Granny. +</p> +<p> +"<i>My</i> money is safe," said self-righteous Dotty, as they walked away; +"don't you wish you <i>had</i> given yours to me, Prudy?" +</p> +<p> +"The deceitful old witch!" muttered Horace; meaning Granny, of course. +</p> +<p> +And lo, there she stood close behind them! She was beckoning Mrs. Allen +back to her fruit-stand. +</p> +<p> +"Wait here one minute, children; I'll be right back." +</p> +<p> +"Nothin', mum," said Granny, looking very much grieved; "nothin' only I +wants to say, mum, if that youngster thinks as I took his money, I wisht +you'd sarch me." +</p> +<p> +"Fie, Granny! Never mind what a boy like that says, when he is excited. +I know you too well to think you'd steal." +</p> +<p> +"The Lord bless you, mum," cried the old woman, all smiles again. +</p> +<p> +"And, Granny, I mean to come here next week, and I'll bring you some +flannel and liniment for your rheumatism. Where shall I leave them if +you're sick, and can't be here?" +</p> +<p> +"O, thank ye, mum; thank ye kindly. The ain't many o' the likes of you, +mum. And if ye does bring the things for my rheumaty, and I ain't here, +just ye leave 'em with the gyurl at this stand, if yer will." +</p> +<p> +"Did she give it back?" cried Horace, the moment his aunt appeared. +</p> +<p> +"No, my boy; how could she when she hadn't it to give?" +</p> +<p> +"But, auntie, I'm up and down sure I felt that wallet in my +breast-pocket, when we came out of Dorlon's," persisted Horace. "I don't +see how on earth that old woman contrived it; but I can't help +remembering how she kept leaning forward when she talked; and once she +hit square against me. And just about that time I was drawing out my +handkerchief to wipe my nose." +</p> +<p> +"Yes, he did! He wiped his nose. And the woman tookened the money; I saw +her do it." +</p> +<p> +"There, I told you so!" +</p> +<p> +"You saw her, Miss Policeman Flyaway?" said Aunt Madge. "And pray how +did she take it?" +</p> +<p> +"Just so,—right in her hand." +</p> +<p> +"O, you mean the money for the butter-scotch, you little tease!" +</p> +<p> +"Yes," replied the child, with a roguish twinkle over the sensation she +had made. +</p> +<p> +"Just like little bits o' flies," said Dotty. "Don't care how folks +feel. And here's her brother ready to cry; heart all broken." +</p> +<p> +"Needn't be concerned about my heart, Dot; 'tisn't broken yet; only +cracked. But how anybody could get at my pocket, without my knowing it, +is a mystery to me, unless Granny is a witch." +</p> +<p> +"Horace, I pledge you my word Granny is innocent." +</p> +<p> +"And I'm sure nobody else could take it, auntie. The clerks at Dorlon's +had no knowledge of the money; neither had any of the apple or pie +merchants along the market. Things look darker for us, Prue; but I will +give you the credit of behaving like a lady. And one thing is sure—the +moment I get home to Indiana I shall send you back your money." +</p> +<p> +"Horace," said Aunt Madge, "I am very suspicious that you lost your +purse in one of those cars, on the Brooklyn side." +</p> +<p> +"But, auntie, I tell you there couldn't anybody get at my pockets +without my knowing it!" +</p> +<p> +"Just as Prudy told you you would, you lost it in that car," echoed +Dotty. "Don't you remember what you said, Prudy?" +</p> +<p> +"That's right; hit him again," growled Horace. +</p> +<p> +"Now, Dotty," said Prudy, suppressing a great sob in her effort to +"behave like a lady," "what's the use? Don't you suppose Horace feels +bad enough without being scolded at?" +</p> +<p> +"Auntie don't scold, nor Prudy don't, 'cause he didn't mean to lose +it," said Fly, frowning at Dotty, and caressing Horace, with her hands +full of evergreens. +</p> +<p> +"Besides, he has lost more than I have," continued Prudy. +</p> +<p> +"Well, a trifle more! Fifty times as much, say. I shouldn't care a +fig,—speaking figuratively,—only it was all I had to get home with." +</p> +<p> +"Don't fret about that," said Aunt Madge; "I'll see that you go home +with as full a purse as you brought to my house." +</p> +<p> +"O, auntie, how can I thank you? But you know father never would allow +that!" +</p> +<p> +"I could tell you how to thank me," thought Mrs. Allen, though she was +so kind she would <i>not</i> tell; "you could thank me by saying, 'Auntie, +I've been a naughty boy.'" +</p> +<p> +But Horace had no idea of making such a confession as that. "The +money'll come up," said he; "I'm one of the lucky kind. Let's see; +wouldn't it be best to advertise?" +</p> +<p> +"Thieves won't answer advertisements," said Mrs. Allen. +</p> +<p> +"But, I tell you, auntie, I dropped that wallet. I could take my oath of +it." +</p> +<p> +"Well, in such a case an advertisement is the proper thing. But, my boy, +your positiveness on this subject is extraordinary. How could you drop +the wallet? Do you keep it in the same pocket with your handkerchief?" +</p> +<p> +"On, no, auntie; right in here." +</p> +<p> +"And you haven't bought anything?" +</p> +<p> +"No, auntie; you wouldn't let me pay the car fare, or anything else. But +still I must have taken out the wallet by mistake. You see I <i>know</i> +nobody's picked my pockets." +</p> +<p> +"Why, Horace, you just said Granny picked 'em." +</p> +<p> +"No, Dot, I didn't! I only spoke of the queer way she had of leaning +forward." +</p> +<p> +"But you scowled at her sharp enough to take head off." +</p> +<p> +"If I were you, Dot, I wouldn't be any more disagreeable than I was +absolutely obliged to.—Now, auntie, how much does it cost to +advertise?" +</p> +<p> +"A dollar or so I believe." +</p> +<p> +"Well, if you'll lend me the money, I want to do it." +</p> +<p> +"To be plain with you, Horace, I really do not think it will be of the +slightest use in this case; but I will consent to it if it will be any +relief to your mind. We shall be obliged to cross the ferry again, for +the advertisement ought to go into a Brooklyn paper." +</p> +<p> +"We are tired enough to drop," said Dotty; "and all these stars and +things, too!" +</p> +<p> +"Yes, we are all tired; but we will leave you little girls at the +ferry-house on the other side." +</p> +<p> +"But, auntie," said Prudy, anxiously, "I shouldn't really dare have the +care of Fly. You know just how it is." +</p> +<p> +"Yes, I do know just how it is. Fly must walk, with her tired little +feet, to the Eagle office, with Horace and me; or else she must make a +solemn promise not to go out of the ferry-house." +</p> +<p> +"But I don't want to make a <i>solomon</i> promise, auntie; I want to see the +eagle." +</p> +<p> +Mrs. Allen sighed. She began to think she had undertaken a great task +in inviting these children to visit her. Instead of a pleasure, they had +proved, thus far, a weariness—always excepting Prudy. She, dear, +self-forgetting little girl, could not fail to be a comfort wherever she +went. +</p> + + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="CH13"><!-- CH13 --></a> +<h2> + CHAPTER XIII. +</h2> + +<h3> +THE PUMPKIN HOOD. +</h3><p> </p> +<p> +To the "Eagle" office they went—obstinate Horace, patient Annt Madge, +and between them the "blue-bottle Fly." +</p> +<p> +"I do feel right sorry, auntie," said Horace, a sudden sense of shame +coming over him; "but I'm so sure I dropped the money, you know; or I +wouldn't drag you up this hill when you're so tired." +</p> +<p> +A sharp answer rose to Mrs. Allen's lips, but she held it back. +</p> +<p> +"Only a boy! In a fair way to learn a useful lesson, too. Let me keep my +temper! If I scold, I spoil the whole." +</p> +<p> +They entered the office, and left with the editor this advertisement:— +</p> +<p> +"Lost.—Between Prospect Park and Fulton Ferry, a porte-monnaie, marked +'Horace S. Clifford,' containing thirty-five dollars. The finder will be +suitably rewarded by leaving the same at No. ——, Cor. Fifth Ave. and +—— Street." +</p> +<p> +"It is no matter about advertising Prudy's purse, it was so shabby," +said Aunt Madge; and on their way back to the ferry-house she bought her +another. +</p> +<p> +"O, thank you, auntie, darling," said Prudy; "and thank you, too, +Horace, for losing my old one; it wasn't fit to be seen. And here is a +whole dollar inside! O, Aunt Madge, <i>are</i> you an angel?" +</p> +<p> +"Prue, you deserve your good luck; you don't come down on a fellow, +hammer and tongs, because he happens to meet with an accident." +</p> +<p> +"Horace," said Dotty, meekly, "are you willing to carry my gloves?" +</p> +<p> +"Yes, to be sure; but you don't want to go home bare-handed—do you?" +</p> +<p> +"Why, I was thinking how nice 'twould be, Horace, to have you take 'em, +and lose 'em, and me have a new pair. There's a hole in the thumb." +</p> +<p> +This little sally amused everybody, and Horace had the grace not to be +sensitive, though the laugh was against him. +</p> +<p> +"Another queer day," said he, when they were at last at home again. "I +don't know what will become of us all, if we keep on like this." +</p> +<p> +The poor boy was trying his best to brave it out; but Aunt Madge could +see that his heart was sore. +</p> +<p> +"Lost every cent I'm worth," mused he, turning his coat-pocket inside +out, and scowling at it. "Got to be a beggar as long as I stay in New +York!" +</p> +<p> +The whole party were tired, and Horace's gloom seemed to fill the parlor +like a fog, and make even the gas look dim. +</p> +<p> +"I feel dreffly," said Fly, curling her head under her brother's arm, +like a chicken under its mother's wing—a way she had when she was +troubled. "I feel just zif I didn't love nobody in the world, and there +didn't nobody love me." +</p> +<p> +This brought Horace around in a minute, and called forth a pickaback +ride. +</p> +<p> +"Music! let us have music," said Aunt Madge, flying to the piano. "When +little folks grow so cold-hearted, in my house, that they don't love +anybody, it's time to warm their hearts with some happy little songs. +Come, girls!" +</p> +<p> +She played a few simple tunes, and the children all sang till the fog +of gloom had disappeared, and the gas burned brightly once more. +</p> +<p> +Half an hour afterwards, just as Fly was told she ought to be sleepy, +because her bye-low hymn had been sung,—"Sleep, little one, like a lamb +in the fold,"—and she had answered that she "couldn't be sleepy, athout +auntie would hurry quick to come in with a drink of water," there was a +strange arrival. Nathaniel, the waiting man, ushered into the parlor a +droll little old woman, dressed in a short calico gown, with gay figures +over it as large as cabbages; calf-skin shoes; and a green pumpkin hood, +with a bow on top. +</p> +<p> +"Good evening, ma'am," said Horace, rising, and offering her a chair. +She did not seem to see very well, in spite of her enormous spectacles; +for she took no notice of the chair, and remained standing in the +middle of the floor. +</p> + +<a name="image-2"><!-- Image 2 --></a> +<p class="figure"> +<img src="pumpkin.jpg" width="40%" +alt="The Pumpkin Hood."><br /> +<b>The Pumpkin Hood</b></p> + +<p> +"She stares at me so hard!" thought Horace—"that's the reason she can't +see anything else."—"Please take a chair, ma'am." +</p> +<p> +"Can't stop to sit down. Is your name Horace S. Clifford?" said the old +woman, in a very feeble voice. +</p> +<p> +Horace looked at her; she had not a tooth in her head. +</p> +<p> +"Yes, ma'am; my name is Horace Clifford," said he, respectfully. He had +great reverence for age, and could keep his mouth from twitching; but +I'm sorry to say Prudy's danced up at the corners, and Dotty's opened +and showed her back teeth The woman must have had all those clothes made +when she was young, for nobody wore such things now; but it wasn't +likely she knew that, poor soul! +</p> +<p> +"Did you go to the 'Brooklyn Eagle' office, to-day, to ad-<i>ver</i>-tise +some lost money, little boy?" +</p> +<p> +"Yes, ma'am.—Why, that advertisement can't have been printed <i>so</i> +quick!" +</p> +<p> +"No, I calculate not. Did you go in with a lady, and a leetle, oneasy, +springy kind of a leetle girl?" +</p> +<p> +"Why, that's me," put in Fly. +</p> +<p> +"Yes, ma'am—yes; were you there? What do you know about it?" +</p> +<p> +"Don't be in a hurry, little boy. I want to be safe and sure. I expect +you took notice of a young man in a bottle-green coat,—no, a +greenish-black coat,—a-sittin' down by the door." +</p> +<p> +"O, I don't know. Yes, I think I did. Was he the one? Did he find the +money?" +</p> +<p> +"Did you walk up Orange Street?" continued the old woman. "No, I mean +Cranberry Street?" +</p> +<p> +"O, <i>dear</i>, I don't know! Prudy, run, call Aunt Madge. Please tell me, +ma'am, have you got it with you? Is my name on the inside?" +</p> +<p> +"Wait till the little girl calls your aunt. Perhaps she'd be willing to +let me tell the story in my own way. I'd ruther deal with grown folks," +said the provoking old lady. +</p> +<p> +Horace's eyes flashed, but he contrived to keep his temper. +</p> +<p> +"It is my purse, ma'am, and my aunt knows nothing about it. I can tell +you just how it looks, and all there is in it." +</p> +<p> +"Perhaps you are one of the kind that can tell folks a good deal, and +thinks nobody knows things so well as yourself," returned the +disagreeable old woman, smiling and showing her toothless gums. "From +what I can learn, I should judge you talked ruther too loud about your +money; for there was a pusson heerd you in the ferry-boat, and took +pains to go in the same car afterwards, and pick your pocket." +</p> +<p> +"Pick—my—pocket?" +</p> +<p> +"Yes, your pocket. You wise, wonderful young man!" +</p> +<p> +"How? When? Where?" +</p> +<p> +"This is how," said the old woman, quick as a thought putting out her +hand, and thrusting it into Horace's breast pocket. +</p> +<p> +"O, it's auntie's rings—it's auntie's rings," cried Fly, jumping up, +and seizing the pretended old woman by her calico sleeve. +</p> +<p> +"Why, Aunt Madge, that isn't you!" +</p> +<p> +"But how'd you take out yer teeth?" said Fly; "your teeth? your teeth?" +</p> +<p> +"O, I didn't take them out, Miss Bright-eyes. I only put a little spruce +gum over them." +</p> +<p> +"Horace, I can't find auntie anywhere in this house," said Prudy, +appearing at the parlor door. "Do you suppose she's gone off and hid?" +</p> +<p> +"Yes, she's hid inside that old gown." +</p> +<p> +"What do you mean?" +</p> +<p> +"That's auntie, and her teeth's <i>in</i>," explained Fly. +</p> +<p> +"Only I wish she was an old woman, and had really brought me my money," +said Horace, in a disappointed tone. "I declare, there was one time I +thought the old nuisance was coming round to it, and going to give me +the wallet." +</p> +<p> +"What a wise, wonderful youth!" said the aged dame, in a cracked voice. +"Thinks I can give him his wallet, when he's got it himself, right close +to his heart." +</p> +<p> +Horace put his hand in his breast pocket. +</p> +<p> +Wonder of wonders! There was the wallet! And not only his, but Prudy's! +Had he been asleep all day? Or was he asleep now? +</p> +<p> +"Money safe? Not a cent gone. Hoo-rah! Hoo-ra-ah!" +</p> +<p> +And for want of a cap to throw, he threw up Fly. +</p> +<p> +"Where did it come from? Where did the old woman find it? O, no; the man +in the green-bottle coat?—O, no; there wasn't any old woman," cried the +children, hopelessly confused. "But who found the money? Did I drop it +on Cranberry Street?" "Did he drop it on Quamby Street?" "Who brought +it?" "Who bringed it?" +</p> +<p> +Aunt Madge stuffed her fingers into her ears. "They are all talking at +once; they're enough to craze a body! They forget how old I am! Came all +the way from the Eagle office, afoot and alone, with only four children +to—" +</p> +<p> +"O, auntie, don't play any more! Talk sober! Talk honest! Did Horace +have his pockets picked?" +</p> +<p> +"Yes, he did," replied Aunt Madge, speaking in her natural tones, and +throwing off the pumpkin hood; "if you want the truth, he did." +</p> +<p> +"Why Aunt Madge Allen! It does not seem possible! Who picked my +pockets?" +</p> +<p> +"Some one who heard you talking so loud about your money." +</p> +<p> +"But how could it be taken out, and I not know it?" +</p> +<p> +"Quite as easily as it could be put back, and you not know it." +</p> +<p> +"That's true, Horace Clifford! Auntie put it back, and you never knew +it." +</p> +<p> +"So she did," said Horace, looking as bewildered as if he had been +whirling around with his eyes shut; "so she did—didn't she? But that +was because I was taken by surprise, seeing her without a tooth in her +head, you know." +</p> +<p> +"You have been taken by surprise twice to-day, then," said Aunt Madge, +demurely. "It is really refreshing, Horace, to find that such a sharp +young man <i>can</i> be caught napping!" +</p> +<p> +"Well, I—I—I must have been thinking, of something else, auntie." +</p> +<p> +"So I conclude. And you must be thinking of something else still, or +you'd ask me—" +</p> +<p> +"O, yes, auntie; how did the thief happen to give it up? There, there, +you needn't say a word! I see it all in your eyes! You took the money +yourself. O, Aunt Madge!" +</p> +<p> +"Well, if that wasn't queer doings!" cried Dotty. +</p> +<p> +"Yes, it is quite contrary to my usual habits. I never robbed anybody +before. I hadn't the faintest idea I could do it without Horace's +knowledge." +</p> +<p> +"Why, auntie, I never was so astonished in my life!" said the youth, +looking greatly confused. +</p> +<p> +"I never heard of a person's being robbed that wasn't astonished," said +Aunt Madge, with a mischievous smile. "Will you be quite as sure of +yourself another time, think?" +</p> +<p> +"No, auntie, I shan't; that's a fact." +</p> +<p> +"That's my good, frank boy," said Aunt Madge, kissing his forehead. "And +he won't toss his head,—just this way,—like a young lord of creation, +when meddlesome aunties venture to give him advice." +</p> +<p> +Horace kissed Mrs. Allen's cheek rather thoughtfully, by way of reply. +</p> +<p> +"I don't see, Aunt Madge," said Prudy, "why you went back across the +river to put that piece in the paper, when you were the one that had the +money all the time." +</p> +<p> +"I did it to pacify Horace. He <i>knew</i> his pockets hadn't been pieked. +Besides I felt guilty. It was rather cruel in me—wasn't it?—to let him +suffer so long." +</p> +<p> +"Not cruel a bit; good enough for me," cried Horace, with a generous +outburst. "You're just the jolliest woman, auntie—the jolliest woman! +There you are; you look so little and sweet! But if folks think they're +going to get ahead of you, why, just let 'em try it, say I!" +</p> +<p> </p> +<p> +DEAR READERS: Horace was scarcely more astonished, when his pocket was +picked, than I am this minute, to find myself at the end of my book! I +had very much more to tell; but now it must wait till another time. +</p> +<p> +Meanwhile the Parlins and Cliffords are "climbing the dream tree." Let +us hope they are destined to meet with no more misfortunes during the +rest of their stay in New York. +</p> + +<p> </p> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Little Folks Astray +by Sophia May (Rebecca Sophia Clarke) + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LITTLE FOLKS ASTRAY *** + +***** This file should be named 11257-h.htm or 11257-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/1/2/5/11257/ + +Produced by Steven desJardins and Distributed Proofreading + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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For +example an eBook of filename 10234 would be found at: + + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/0/2/3/10234 + +or filename 24689 would be found at: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/4/6/8/24689 + +An alternative method of locating eBooks: + https://www.gutenberg.org/GUTINDEX.ALL + + + + +</pre> + +</body> +</html> + diff --git a/old/11257-h/angel.jpg b/old/11257-h/angel.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ba43023 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/11257-h/angel.jpg diff --git a/old/11257-h/pumpkin.jpg b/old/11257-h/pumpkin.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b9951bd --- /dev/null +++ b/old/11257-h/pumpkin.jpg diff --git a/old/11257.txt b/old/11257.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e8c9c35 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/11257.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3859 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Little Folks Astray +by Sophia May (Rebecca Sophia Clarke) + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Little Folks Astray + +Author: Sophia May (Rebecca Sophia Clarke) + +Release Date: February 24, 2004 [EBook #11257] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: US-ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LITTLE FOLKS ASTRAY *** + + + + +Produced by Steven desJardins and Distributed Proofreading + + + + + +LITTLE FOLKS ASTRAY. + +BY SOPHIE MAY + + +"To give room for wandering is it +That the world was made so wide." + +1872 + + + +TO + +MY YOUNG FRIEND, + +EMMA ADAMS. + +"JOHNNIE OPTIC." + + + + +TO PARENTS. + +Here come the Parlins and Cliffords again. They had been sent to bed and +nicely tucked in, but would not stay asleep. They "wanted to see the +company down stairs;" so they have dressed themselves, and come back to +the parlor. I trust you will pardon them, dear friends. Is it not a +common thing, in this degenerate age, for grown people to frown and +shake their heads, while little people do exactly as they please? + +Well, one thing is certain: if these children insist upon sitting up, +they shall listen to lectures on self-will and disrespect to superiors, +which will make their ears tingle. + +Moreover, they shall hear of other people, and not always of themselves. +Fly Clifford, who expects to be in the middle, will be somewhat +overwhelmed, like a fly in a cup of milk; for Grandma Read is to talk +her down with her Quaker speech, and Aunt Madge with her story of the +summer when she was a child. It is but fair that the elders should have +a voice. That they may speak words which shall come home to many little +hearts, and move them for good, is the earnest wish of + +THE AUTHOR. + + + + +CONTENTS. + + +CHAPTER + + +I. THE LETTER + +II. THE UNDERTAKING + +III. THE FROLIC + +IV. "TAKING OUR AIRS" + +V. DOTTY HAVING HER OWN WAY + +VI. DOTTY REBUKED + +VII. THE LOST FLY + +VIII. "THE FRECKLED DOG" + +IX. MARIA'S MOTHER + +X. FIVE MAKING A CALL + +XI. "THE HEN-HOUSES" + +XII. "GRANNY" + +XIII. THE PUMPKIN HOOD + + + + +LITTLE FOLKS ASTRAY. + + + +CHAPTER I. + +THE LETTER. + + +Katie Clifford sat on the floor, in the sun, feeding her white mice. She +had a tea-spoon and a cup of bread and milk in her hands. If she had +been their own mother she could not have smiled down on the little +creatures more sweetly. + +"'Cause I spect they's hungry, and that's why I'm goin' to give 'em +sumpin' to eat. Shut your moufs and open your eyes," said she, waving +the tea-spoon, and spattering the bread and milk over their backs. + +"Quee, quee," squeaked the little mice, very well pleased when a drop +happened to go into their mouths. + +"What are you doing there, Miss Topknot," said Horace: "O, I see; +catching rats." + +Flyaway frowned fearfully, and the tuft of hair atop of her head danced +like a war-plume. + +"I shouldn't think folks would call 'em names, Hollis, when they never +did a thing to you. Nothing but clean white mouses!" + +"Let's see; now I look at 'em, Topknot, they _are_ white. And what's all +this paper?" + +"Bed-kilts." + +"_In_-deed?" + +"You knew it by-fore!" + +"One, two, three; I thought the doctor gave you five. Where are they +gone?" + +"Well, there hasn't but two died; the rest'll live," said Fly, swinging +one of them around by its tail, as if it had been a tame cherry. + +Just then Grace came and stood in the parlor doorway. + +"O, fie!" said she; "what work! Ma doesn't allow that cage in the +parlor. You just carry it out, Fly Clifford." + +Miss Thistledown Flyaway looked up at her sister shyly, out of the +corners of her eyes. Grace was now a beautiful young lady of sixteen, +and almost as tall as her mother. Flyaway adored her, but there was a +growing doubt in her mind whether sister Grace had a right to use the +tone of command. + +"'Cause I spect she isn't my mamma." + +"Why, Fly, you haven't started yet!" + +"I didn't think 'twas best," responded the child, sulkily, fixing her +eyes on the mice, who were dancing whirligigs round the wheel. + +"Come here to your best friend, little Topknot," said Horace. "Let's +take that cage into the green-house, and ask papa to keep it there, +because the mice look like water-lilies on long stems." + +Flyaway brightened at once. She knew water-lilies were lovely. Giving +Grace a triumphant glance, she danced across the room, and put the cage +in Horace's hands, with a smile of trusting love that thrilled his +heart. + +"Hollis laughs at my mouses, but he don't say, 'Put 'em away,' and, +'_Put_ 'em away;' he says, 'Little gee-urls wants to see things as much +as anybody else,'" thought she, gratefully. + +"Horace," said Grace, with a curling lip, "that child is growing up +just like you--fond of worms, and bugs, and all such disgusting things." + +Horace smiled. No matter for the scorn in Grace's tone; it pleased him +to be compared in any way with his precious little Flyaway. + +"Topknot has a spark of sense," said he, leading her along to the +green-house. "I'll bring her up not to scream at a spider." + +"Now, young lady," said he, setting the cage on the shelf beside a +camellia, and speaking in a low voice, though they were quite alone, +"_can_ you keep a secret?" + +"Course I can; What _is_ a _secrid_?" + +"Why, it's something you musn't ever tell, Topknot, not to anybody that +lives." + +"Then I won't, _cerdily_,--not to mamma, nor papa, nor Gracie." + +"Nor anybody else?" + +"No; course not. _Whobody_ else could I? O, 'cept Phibby. There, now, +what's the name of it." + +"The name of it is--a secret, and the secret is this--Sure you won't +tell any single body, Topknot?" + +"No; I said, _whobody_ could I tell? O, 'cept Tinka! There now!" + +"Well, the secret is this," said Horace, laying his forefingers +together, and speaking very slowly, in order to prolong the immense +delight he felt in watching the little one's eager face. "You know +you've got an aunt Madge?" + +"Yes; so've you, too." + +"And she lives in the city of New York." + +"Does she? When'd she go?" + +"Why, she has always lived there; ever since she was married." + +"O, yes; and uncle Gustus was married, too; they was both married. Is +that all?" + +"And she thinks you and I are 'cute chicks, and wants us to go and see +her." + +"Well, course she does; I knew that before," said Fly, turning away with +indifference; "I did go with mamma." + +"O, but she means now, Topknot; this very Christmas. She said it in a +letter." + +"Does she truly?" said Fly, beginning to look pleased. "But it can't be +a _secrid_, though," added she, next moment, sadly, "'cause we can't go, +Hollis." + +"But I really think we shall go, Topknot; that is, if you don't spoil +the whole by telling." + +"O, I cerdily won't tell!" said Fly, fluttering all over with a sense of +importance, like a kitten with its first mouse. + +The breakfast bell rang; and, with many a word of warning, Horace led +his little sister into the dining-room. + +"Papa," said she, the moment she was established in her high chair, "I +know sumpin'." + +"O, Topknot!" cried Horace. + +"I know Hollis has got his elbows on the table. There, now, _did_ I +tell?" + +"Hu--sh, Topknot!" + +There was a quiet moment while Mr. Clifford said grace. + +"Hollis," whispered Katie immediately afterwards, "will I take my +mouses?" + +"'Sh, Topknot!" + +"What's going on there between you and Horace?" laughed Grace. + +"A _secrid_," said Fly, nipping her little lips together. "You won't get +me to tell." + +"Horace," exclaimed Mrs. Clifford, "you haven't--" + +"Why, mother, I thought it was all settled, and wouldn't do any harm; +and it pleases her so!" + +"Well, my son, you've made a hard day's work for me," said Mrs. +Clifford, smiling behind her coffee-cup, as eager little Katie swayed +back and forth in her high chair. + +"You won't get me to tell, Gracie Clifford. She don't want nobody but +Hollis and me; she thinks we're very 'cute." + +"Who? O, Aunt Louise, probably." + +"No, aunt Louise never! It's the auntie that lives to New York." + +"Sh, Topknot!" + +"Well, I didn't tell, Hollis Clifford!" + +"So you didn't," said Grace. "But wouldn't it be nice if somebody should +ask you to go somewhere to spend Christmas?" + +"Well, _there is_!" + +"O, Topknot," cried Horace, in mock distress, "you said you could keep +a secret." + +Flyaway looked frightened. + +"What'd I do?" cried she; "I didn't tell nuffin 'bout the letter!" + +This last speech set everybody to laughing; and the little tell-tale +looked around from one to another with a face full of innocent wonder. +They couldn't be laughing at _her_! + +"I can keep secrids," said she, with dignity. "It was what I was +a-doin'." + +"It is your brother Horace who cannot be trusted to keep secrets," said +Mrs. Clifford, taking a letter from her pocket. "Hear, now, what your +Aunt Madge has written: 'Will you lend me your children for the +holidays, Maria? I want all three; at any rate, two.'" + +"That's me," cried Flyaway, tipping over her white coffee; "'_tenny +rate two_,' means me." + +"Don't interrupt me, dear. 'Brother Edward has promised me Prudy and +Dotty Dimple. They may have a Santa Claus, or whatever they like. I +shall devote myself to making them happy, and I am sure there are plenty +of things in New York to amuse them. Horace must come without fail; for +the little girl-cousins always depend so much upon him.'" + +A smile rose to Horace's mouth; but he rubbed it off with his napkin. It +was his boast that he was above being flattered. + +"But why not have Grace go, too, to keep them steady?" said Mr. +Clifford, bluntly. + +Horace applied himself to his buckwheat cakes in silence, and looked +rather gloomy. + +"Why, I suppose, Henry, it would hardly be safe to send Grace, on +account of her cough." + +"I'm so sorry you asked Dr. De Bruler a word about it, mamma; but I +suppose I must submit," said Grace, with a face as cloudy as Horace's. + +"Horace, my son, do you really feel equal to the task of taking this +tuft of feathers to New York?" + +"I don't know why not, father; I'm willing to try." + +"Horace has good courage," said Grace, shaking her auburn curls like so +many exclamation points. "I never could! I never would! I'd as soon have +the care of a flying squirrel!" + +"Hollis never called me a _squirl_," said Fly, demurely. "I've got two +brothers, and one of 'em is an angel, and the other isn't; but Hollis +is _'most_ as good as the one up in the sky." + +"Well, my son," remarked Mr. Clifford, after a pause, "if your mother +gives her consent, I suppose I shall give mine; but it does not look +clear to me yet. One thing is certain, Horace; if you do undertake this +journey, you must live on the watch: you must sleep with both eyes open. +Don't trust the child out of your sight--not for a moment. Don't even +let go her hand on the street." + +"I do believe Horace will be as careful as either you or I, Henry, or I +certainly wouldn't trust him with our last little darling," said Mrs. +Clifford. + +His mother's words dropped like balm upon Horace's wounded spirit. He +looked up, and felt himself a man again. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +THE UNDERTAKING. + + +When Flyaway knew she was going to New York, it was about as easy to fit +her dresses as to clothe a buzzing blue-bottle fly. With spinning head +and dancing feet, she was set down, at last, in the cars. + +"Here we are, all by ourselves, darling, starting off for Gotham. Wave +your handkerchief to mamma. Don't you see her kissing her hand? There, +you needn't spring out of the window! And I declare, Brown-brimmer, if +you haven't thrown away your handkerchief! Here, cry into mine!" + +"I didn't want to cry, Hollis; I wanted to laugh," said the child, +wiping her eyes with her doll's cloak. "When you ride in carriages, you +don't get anywhere; but when you ride in the cars, you get there right +off." + +"Yes; that's so, my dear. You are in the right of it, as you always are. +Now I am going to turn the seat over, and sit where I can look at +you--just so." + +"O, that's just as splendid, Hollis! Now there's only me and Flipperty. +There, I put her 'pellent cloak on wrong; but see, now, I've +un-_wrong-side-outed_ it! Don't she sit up like a lady?" + +Her name was Flipperty Flop. She was a large jointed doll (not a doll +with large joints,) had seen a great deal of the world, and didn't think +much of it. She came of a high family, and had such blue blood in her +veins, that the ground wasn't good enough for her to walk on. She wore +a "'pellent cloak" and rubber boots, and had a shopping-bag on her arm +full of "choclid" cakes. She was nearly as large as her mother, and all +of two years older. A great deal had happened to her before her mother +was born, and a great deal more since. Sometimes it was dropsy, and she +had to be tapped, when pints of sawdust would run out. Sometimes it was +consumption, and she wasted to such a skeleton that she had to be +revived with cotton. She had lost her head more than once, but it never +affected her brains: she was all the better with a young head now and +then on her old shoulders. Her present ailment appeared to be small-pox; +she was badly pitted with pins and a penknife. "I declare I forgot to +get a ticket for her," said Horace. "What if the conductor shouldn't +let her pass?" + +"O, Hollis, but he must?" cried Fly, springing to her feet; "_I_ shan't +pass athout my Flipperty! Tell the 'ductor 'bout my white mouses died, +and I can't go athout sumpin to carry." + +"Pshaw! Dotty Dimple don't carry dolls. She don't like 'em: sensible +girls never do." + +"Well, _I_ like 'em," said Flyaway, nothing daunted. "You knew it +byfore; 'n if you didn't want Flipperty, you'd ought to not come!" + +Horace laughed, as he always did when his little sister tried her power +over him. The conductor was an old acquaintance, and he told him how it +stood with Flipperty, how she was needed at New York, and all that; +whereupon Mr. Van Dusen gave Fly a little green card, and told her to +keep it to show to all the conductors on the road; for it was a free +pass, and would take Flipperty all over the United States. + +"Yes, sir, if you please," said Fly, with a blush and a smile, and put +the "free pass" in Miss Flop's cloak pocket. + +After this, she never once failed to show it, whenever Mr. Van Dusen, or +any other conductor, came near, but always had to hunt for it, and once +brought up a cookie instead, which fearful mistake mortified her to the +depths of her soul. + +Horace was sure all eyes were fixed on his charming little charge, and +was proud of the honor of showing her off; but he paid for it dearly; it +cost him more than his Latin, with all the irregular verbs. There was no +such thing as her being comfortable. She was full of care about him, +herself, and the baggage. Flipperty lost off a rubber boot, which +bounced over into the next seat. Horace had to ask a gentleman and his +sick daughter to move, and, after all, it was in an old lady's lap. + +Then Fly's feet were cold, and Horace took her to the stove; but that +made her eyes too hot, and she danced back, to lie with her head on his +breast and her feet against the window, till she suddenly whirled +straight about, and planted her tiny boots under his chin. + +"O, Topknot, Topknot, I pity that woman with the baby, if she feels as +lame all over as I do!" + +"Where's the baby, Hollis? O, I see." + +"What's the matter, now? Why upon earth can't you sit still, child?" +said Horace, next minute, catching her as she was darting into the +aisle, dragging Miss Flop by the hair of the head. + +"O, Hollis, don't you see there's a dolly over there, with two girls and +a lady with red clo'es on? 'Haps they'd be willing for her to get +'quainted with Flipperty?" + +"Well, Topknot, 'haps they would, but 'haps I wouldn't. I can't have you +dancing all over the car, in this style." + +Flyaways's lip quivered, and a tear started. Horace was moved. One of +Fly's tears weighed a pound with him, even when it only wet her +eyelashes, and wasn't heavy enough to drop. + +"Well, there, darling, you just sit still,--not still enough, though, to +give you a pain (Fly always said it gave her a pain to sit still),--and +I'll bring the girls and dollie over here to you. Will that do?" + +Fly thought it would. + +A dreadful fit of bashfulness came over Horace, when he stood face to +face with the black-eyed lady and her daughters, and tried to speak. + +"I've got a little girl travelling with me, ma'am; she's so--so uneasy, +that I don't know what to do with her. Will you let me take--I mean, are +you willing--" + +"Bring her over here, and we will try to amuse her," said the black-eyed +lady, pleasantly; but Horace was sure he saw the oldest girl laughing at +him. + +"It's no fun to go and make a fool of yourself," thought he, leading Fly +to the new acquaintances, and standing by as she settled herself shyly +in the seat. + +"How do you do, little one? What is your name?--_Flyaway_?--Well, you +look like it. We saw you were a darling, clear across the aisle. And you +have a kind brother, I know." + +At these words Fly, for want of some answer to make, sprang forward and +kissed Horace on the bridge of the nose. + +"There, you've knocked off my cap." + +In stooping to pick it up, he awkwardly hit his head against the older +girl, who already looked so mischievous that he was rather afraid of +her. + +"Wish I could get out of the way. She expects me to speak, but I shan't. + + "'Needles and pins, needles and pins, + When a man travels his trouble begins.'" + +Horace was obliged to stand, very ill at ease, till the black-eyed lady +had found out where he lived, who his father was, and what was his +mother's name before she was married. + +"Tell your father, when you go home, you have seen Mrs. Bonnycastle, +formerly Ann Jones, and give him my regards. I knew he married a lady +from Maine." + +"I know sumpin," struck in Fly; "if ever _I_ marry anybody, I'll marry +my own brother Hollis. I mean if I don't be a ole maid!" + +"And what is 'a ole maid,' you little witch?" + +"I don' know; some folks is," was the wise reply. Flyaway was about to +add "Gampa Clifford," but did not feel well enough acquainted to talk of +family matters. + +When the Bonnycastles left, at Cleveland, Horace thought that was the +last of them. Miss Gerty was "decent-looking, looked some like Cassy +Hallock; but he couldn't bear to see folks giggle; hoped he never should +set eyes on those people again." Whether he ever did, you shall hear one +of these days. + +"O, Topknot," said he, "your hair looks like a mop. Do you want all +creation laughing at you? You'll mortify me to death." + +"You ought to water it. If you don't take better care o' your little +sister, I won't never ride with you no more, Hollis Clifford!" + +"Well, see that you don't, you little scarecrow," said the suffering +boy, out of all patience. "If you are going to act in New York as you +have on the road, I wish I was well out of this scrape." + +Flyaway was really a sight to behold. How she managed to tear her dress +off the waist, and loose five boot buttons, and last, but not least, the +very hat she wore on her head, _would_ have been a mystery if you hadn't +seen her run. + +When they reached the city, Horace put the soft, flying locks in as +good order as he could, and tied them up in his handkerchief. + +"I wisht I hadn't come," whined Fly; "I don't want to wear a hangerfiss; +'tisn't speckerble!" + +"Hush right up! I'm not going to have you get cold!--My sorrows! Shan't +I be thankful when I get where there's a woman to take care of her?" + +On the platform at the depot, aunt Madge, Prudy, and Dotty Dimple, were +waiting for them. A hearty laugh went the rounds, which Fly thought was +decidedly silly. Aunt Madge took the young travellers right into her +arms, and hugged them in her own cordial style, as if her heart had been +hungry for them for many a day. + +"We're so glad!--for it did seem as if you'd never come," exclaimed +Dotty Dimple. + +"And I'd like to know," said Horace, "how you happened to get here +first." + +"O, we came by express--came yesterday." + +"By 'spress?" cried Flyaway, pulling away from aunt Madge, who was +trying to pin her frock together; "_we_ came by a 'ductor.--Why, where's +Flipperty's ticket?" + +Horace seized Prudy with one hand, and Dotty Dimple with the other, +turning them round and round. + +"I don't see anything of the express mark, 'Handle with care.' What has +become of it?" + +"O, we were done up in brown paper," said Prudy, laughing, "and the +express mark was on that; but aunt Madge took it off as soon as she got +the packages home." + +"Why, what a story, Prudy Parlin! We didn't have a speck of brown paper +round us. Just cloaks and hats with feathers in!" + +Dotty spoke with some irritation. She had all along been rather +sensitive about being sent by express, and could not bear any allusion +to the subject. + +"There, that's Miss Dimple herself. Let me shake hands with your +Dimpleship! Didn't come to New York to take a joke,--did you?" + +"No, her Dimpleship came to New York to get warm," said Peacemaker +Prudy; "and so did I, too. You don't know how cold it is in Maine." + +By this time they were rattling over the stones in their aunt's elegant +carriage. It was dusk; the lamps were lighted, the streets crowded with +people, the shops blazing with gay colors. + +"I didn't come here to get warm, either," said Dotty, determined to +have the last word: "I was warm enough in Portland. I s'pose we've got a +furnace,--haven't we?--and a coal grate, too." + +"I do hope Horace hasnt't got her started in a contrary fit," thought +Prudy; "I brought her all the way from home without her saying a cross +word." + +But aunt Madge had a witch's broom, to sweep cobwebs out of the sky. +Putting her arm around Dotty, she said,-- + +"You all came to bring sunshine into my house; bless your happy hearts." + +That cleared Dotty's sky, and she put up her lips for a kiss; while +Flyaway, with her "hangerfiss" on, danced about the carriage like a fly +in a bottle, kissing everybody, and Horace twice over. + +"'Cause I spect we've got there. But, Hollis," said she, with the +comical shade of care which so often flitted across her little face, +"you never put the trunk in here. Now that 'ductor has gone and carried +off my nightie." + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +THE FROLIC. + + +If Aunt Madge had dressed in linsey woolsey, with a checked apron on, +she would still have been lovely. A white rose is lovely even in a +cracked tea-cup. But Colonel Augustus Allen was a rich man, and his wife +could afford to dress elegantly. Horace followed her to-night with +admiring eyes. + +"They say she isn't as handsome as Aunt Louise, but I know better; you +needn't tell me! Her eyes have got the real good twinkle, and that's +enough said." + +Horace was like most boys; he mistook loveliness for beauty. Mrs. +Allen's small figure, gentle gray eyes, and fair curls made her seem +almost insignificant beside the splendid Louise; but Horace knew better; +you needn't tell _him_! + +"Horace," said Aunt Madge, "your Uncle Augustus is gone, and that is one +reason, you know, why I begged for company during the holidays. You will +be the only gentleman in the house, and we ladies herewith put ourselves +under your protection. Will you accept the charge?" + +"He needn't _pertect_ ME," spoke up Miss Dimple, from the depths of an +easy-chair; "I can pertect myself." + +"Don't mind going to the Museum alone, I suppose, and crossing ferries, +and riding in the Park, and being out after dark?" + +"No; I'm not afraid of things," replied the strong-minded young lady; +"ask Prudy if I am. And my father lets me go in the horse-cars all over +Portland. That's since I travelled out west." + +Here the bell sounded, and the only gentleman of the house gave his arm +to Mrs. Allen, to lead her out to what he supposed was supper, though he +soon found it went by the name of dinner. Neither he nor his young +cousins were accustomed to seeing so much silver and so many servants; +but they tried to appear as unconcerned as if it were an every-day +affair. Dotty afterwards said to Prudy and Horace, "I was 'stonished +when that man came to the back of my chair with the butter; but I said, +'_If_ you please, sir,' just as if I 'spected it. _He_ don't know but my +father's rich." + +After dinner Fly's eyes drew together, and Prudy said,-- + +"O, darling, you don't know what's going to happen. Auntie said you +might sleep with Dotty and me to-night, right in the middle." + +"O, dear!" drawled Flyaway; "when there's two abed, I sleep; but when +there's three abed, I open out my eyes, and can't." + +"So you don't like to sleep with your cousins," said Dotty, "your dear +cousins, that came all the way from Portland to see you." + +"Yes, I do," said Fly, quickly; "my eyes'll open out; but that's no +matter, 'cause I don't want to go to sleep; I'd ravver not." + +They went up stairs, into a beautiful room, which aunt Madge had +arranged for them with two beds, to suit a whim of Dotty's. + +"Now isn't this just splendid?" said Miss Dimple; "the carpet so soft +your boots go in like feathers; and then such pictures! Look, Fly! here +are two little girls out in a snow-storm, with an umbrella over 'em. +Aren't you glad it isn't you? And here are some squirrels, just as +natural as if they were eating grandpa's oilnuts. And see that pretty +lady with the kid, or the dog. Any way she is kissing him; and it was +all she had left out of the whole family, and she wanted to kiss +somebody." + +"Yes," said aunt Madge. + + "'Her sole companion in a dearth + Of love upon a hopeless earth.' + +"If that makes you look so sober, children, I'm going to take it down. +Here, on this bracket, is the head of our blessed Saviour." + +"O, I'm glad," said Fly. "He'll be right there, a-looking on, when we +say our prayers." + +"Hear that creature talk!" whispered Dotty. + +"And these things a-shinin' down over the bed: who's these?" said +Flyaway, dancing about the room, with "opened-out" eyes. + +"Don't you know? That's Christ blessing little children," said Dotty, +gently. "I always know Him by the rainbow round His head." + +"Aureole," corrected Aunt Madge. + +"But wasn't it just _like_ a rainbow--red, blue and green?" + +"O, no; our Saviour did not really have any such crown of light, Dotty. +He looked just like other men, only purer and holier. Artists have tried +in vain to make his expression heavenly enough; so they paint him with +an aureole." + +Prudy said nothing; but as she looked at the picture, a happy feeling +came over her. She remembered how Christ "called little children like +lambs to his fold," and it seemed as if He was very near to-night, and +the room was full of peace. Aunt Madge had done well to place such +paintings before her young guests; good pictures bring good thoughts. + +"All, everywhere, it's so spl-endid!" said Fly; "what's that thing with +a glass house over it!" + +"A clock." + +"What a funny clock! It looks like a little dog wagging its tail." + +"That's the _penderlum_," explained Dotty; "it beats the time. Every +clock has a penderlum. Generally hangs down before though, and this +hangs behind. I declare, Prudy, it does look like a dog wagging its +tail." + +"Hark! it strikes eight," said Aunt Madge. "Time little girls were in +bed, getting rested for a happy day to-morrow." + +"I don't spect that thing knows what time it is," said Fly, gazing at +the clock doubtfully, "and my eyes are all opened out; but if you want +me to, auntie, I will!" + +So Flyaway slipped off her clothes in a twinkling. + +"We're going to lie, all three, in this big bed, Fly, just for one +night," said Dotty; "and after that we must take turns which shall sleep +with you. There, child, you're all undressed, and I haven't got my boots +off yet. You're quicker'n a chain o' lightning, and always was." + +"Why, how did that kitty get in here?" said auntie, as a loud mewing +was heard. "I certainly shut her out before we came up stairs." + +Dotty ran round the room, with one boot on, and Prudy in her stockings, +helping their aunt in the search. The kitten was not under the bed, or +in either of the closets, or inside the curtains. + +"Look ahind the _pendlum_," said Fly, laughing and skipping about in +high glee; "look ahind the pendlum; look atween the pillow-case." + +Still the mewing went on. + +"O, here is the kitty--I've found her," said auntie, suddenly seizing +Fly by the shoulders, and stopping her mocking-bird mouth. "Poor pussy, +she has turned white--white all over!" + +"You don't mean to say that was Fly Clifford?" cried Prudy. + +"Shut her up, auntie," said Dotty Dimple; "she's a kitty. I always knew +her name was Kitty." + +Fly ran and courtesied before the mirror in her nightie. + +"O, Kitty Clifford, Kitty Clifford," she cried, "when'll you be a cat?" + +"Pretty soon, if you can catch mice as well as you can mew," laughed +auntie; "but look you, my dear; are you going to bed to-night? or shall +I shut you down cellar?" + +"Don't shut me down _cellow_, auntie," cried the mocking-bird, crowing +like a chicken; "shut me in the barn with the banties." + +Next moment it occurred to the child that this style of behavior was not +very "speckerful;" so she hastily dropped on her knees before her +auntie, and began to say her prayers. The change was so sudden, from +the shrill crow of a chicken to the gentle voice of a little girl +praying, that no one could keep a sober face. Prudy ran into the closet, +and Dotty laughed into her handkerchief. + +"There, now, that's done," said Flyaway, jumping up as suddenly as she +had knelt down. "Now I must pray Flipperty." + +And before any one could think what the child meant to do, she had +dragged out her dolly, and knelt it on the rug, face downward, over her +own lap. + +"O, the wicked creature!" whispered Dotty. But Aunt Madge said nothing. + +"Pray," said the little one, in a tone of command. Then, in a fine, +squeaking voice, Fly repeated a prayer. It was intended to be +Flipperty's voice, and Flipperty was too young to talk plain. + +"There, that will do," said Aunt Madge, her large gray eyes trying not +to twinkle; "did she ever say her prayers before?" + +"Yes, um; she's a goody girl--when I 'member to pray her!" + +"Well, dear, I wouldn't 'pray her' any more. It makes us laugh to see +such a droll sight, and nobody wishes to laugh when you are talking to +your Father in heaven." + +"No'm," replied Flyaway, winking her eyes solemnly. + +But when the "three abed" had been tucked in and kissed, Fly called her +auntie back to ask, "How can Flipperty grow up a goody girl _athout_ she +says her prayers?" + +There was such a mixture of play and earnestness in the child's eyes, +that auntie had to turn away her face before she could answer seriously. + +"Why, little girls can think and feel you know; but with dollies it is +different. Now, good night, pet; you won't have beautiful dreams, if you +talk any more." + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +"TAKING OUR AIRS." + + +Flyaway awoke singing, and sprang up in bed, saying,-- + +"Why, I thought I's a car, and that's why I whissiled." + +"But you are not a car," yawned Prudy; "please don't sing again, or +dance, either." + +"It's the _happerness_ in me, Prudy; and that's what dances; it's the +happerness." + +"That's the worst part of Fly Clifford," groaned Dotty; "she won't keep +still in the morning. Might have known there wouldn't be any peace after +she got here." + +Dotty always came out of sleep by slow stages, and her affections were +the last part of her to wake up. Just now she did not love Katie +Clifford one bit, nor her own mother either. + +"Won't you light the lamp?" piped Flyaway. + +"Please don't, Fly," said Prudy; "don't talk!" + +"Won't you light the la-amp?" + +"No, we will not," said Dotty, firmly. + +"Won't you light the la-amp?" + +"Is this what we came to New York for?" moaned Dotty; "to be waked up in +the middle of the night by folks singing?" + +"Won't you light the la-amp?" + +"I'll pack my dresses, and go right home! I'll--I'll have Fly Clifford +sleep out o' this room. Why, I--I--" + +"Won't you light the la-amp?" + +Prudy sprang out of bed, convulsed with laughter, and lighted the gas; +whereupon Fly began to dance "Little Zephyrs," on the pillow, and Dotty +to declare her eyes were put out. + +"Little try-patiences, both of them," thought Prudy; "but then they've +always had their own way, and what can you expect? I'm so glad I wasn't +born the youngest of the family; it does make children _so_ +disagreeable!" + +As soon as Dotty was fairly awake, her love for her friends came back +again, and her good humor with it. She made Fly bleat like a lamb and +spin like a top, and applauded her loudly. + +"It's gl-orious to have you here, Fly Clifford. I wouldn't let you go in +any other room to sleep for anything." + +Which shows that the same thing looked very different to Dotty after she +got her eyes open. + +When the children went down to breakfast, they found bouquets of +flowers by their plates. + +"I am delighted to see such happy faces." said Aunt Madge. "How would +you all like to go out by and by, and take the air?" + +"We'd like it, auntie; and I'll tell you what would be prime," remarked +Horace, from his uncle's place at the head of the table; "and that is, +to take Fly to Stewart's, and have her go up in an elevator." + +"Why couldn't I go up, too?" asked Dotty, with the slightest possible +shade of discontent in her voice. She did not mean to be jealous, but +she had noticed that Flyaway always came first with Horace, and if there +was anything hard for Dotty's patience, it was playing the part of +Number Two. + +"We'll all go up," said Aunt Madge. "I've an idea of taking you over +to Brooklyn; and in that case we shan't come home before night." + +"Carry our dinner in a basket?" suggested Dotty. + +"O, no; we'll go into a restaurant, somewhere, and order whatever you +like." + +"Will you, auntie? Well, there, I never went to such a place in my life, +only once; and then Percy Eastman, he just cried 'Fire!' and I broke the +saucer all to pieces." + +"I've been to it a great many times," said Fly, catching part of Dotty's +meaning; "my mamma bakes 'em in a freezer." + +At nine o'clock the party of five started out to see New York. Aunt +Madge and Horace walked first, with Flyaway between them. "We are going +out to take our _airs_," said the little one. + +"I don't think you need any more," said Horace, looking fondly at his +pretty sister. "You're so airy now, it's as much as we can do to keep +your feet on the ground." + +Flyaway wore a blue silk bonnet, with white lace around the face, a blue +dress and cloak, and pretty furs with a squirrel's head on the muff. She +had never been dressed so well before, and she knew it. She remembered +hearing "Phibby" say to "Tinka," "Don't that child look like an angel?" +Fly was sure she did, for big folks like Tinka must know. But here her +thoughts grew misty. All the angels she had ever heard of were brother +Harry and "the Charlie boy." How could she look like them? + +"Does God dress 'em in a cloak and bonnet, you s'pose?" asked she of her +own thoughts. + +Prudy and Dotty Dimple wore frocks of black and red plaid, white +cloaks, and black hats with scarlet feathers. Horace was satisfied that +a finer group of children could not be found in the city. + +"Aunt Madge and I have no reason to be ashamed of them, I am sure," +thought he, taking out his new watch every few minutes, not because he +wished to show it, but for fear it was losing time. + +"How I wish we had Grace and Susey here! and then I should have all my +nieces," said Aunt Madge. "Is it possible these are the same children I +used to see at Willowbrook? Here is my only nephew, that drowned Prudy +on a log, grown tall enough to offer me his arm. (Why, Horace, your head +is higher than mine!) Here is Prudy, who tried yesterday--didn't +she?--to go up to heaven on a ladder, almost a young lady. Why, how old +it makes me feel!" + +"But you don't look old," said Dotty, consolingly; "you don't look +married any more than Aunt Louise?" + +Here they took an omnibus, and the children interested themselves in +watching the different people who sat near them. + +"Aren't you glad to come?" said Dotty. "See that man getting out. What +is that little thing he's switching himself with?" + +"That's a cane," replied Horace. + +"A cane? Why, if Flyaway should lean on it, she'd break it in +two.--Prudy, look at that man in the corner; _his_ cane is funnier than +the other one." + +Horace laughed. + +"That is a pipe, Dotty--a meerschaum." + +"Well, I don't see much difference," said Miss Dimple; "New York is the +queerest place. Such long pipes, and such short canes!" + +Fly was too happy to talk, and sat looking out of the window until an +elegantly-dressed lady entered the stage, who attracted everybody's +attention; and then Flyaway started up, and stood on her tiptoes. The +lady's face was painted so brightly that even a child could not help +noticing it. It was haggard and wrinkled, all but the cheeks, and those +bloomed out like a red, red rose. Flyaway had never seen such a sight +before, and thought if the lady only knew how she looked, she would go +right home and wash her face. + +"What a chee-arming little girl!" said the painted woman, crowding in +between Aunt Madge and Flyaway, and patting the child's shoulder with +her ungloved hand, which was fairly ablaze with jewels; "bee-youtiful!" + +Flyaway turned quickly around to Aunt Madge, and said, in one of her +very loud whispers, "What's the matter with her? She's got sumpin on her +face." + +"Hush," whispered Aunt Madge, pinching the child's hand. + +"But there is," spoke up Flyaway, very loud in her earnestness; "O, +there is sumpin on her face--sumpin red." + +There was "sumpin" now on all the other faces in the omnibus, and it was +a smile. The lady must have blushed away down under the paint. She +looked at her jewelled fingers, tossed her head proudly, and very soon +left the stage. + +"Topknot, how could you be so rude?" said Horace, severely; "little +girls should be seen, and not heard." + +"But she speaked to me first," said Flyaway. "I wasn't goin' to say +nuffin, and then she speaked." + +A young gentleman and lady opposite seemed very much amused. + +"I'm afraid of your bright eyes, little dear. I'll give you some candy +if you won't tell me how I look," said the young lady, showering +sweetmeats into Flyaway's lap. + +"Why, I wasn't goin' to tell her how she looked," whispered Fly, very +much surprised, and trying to nestle out of sight behind Horace's +shoulder. + +When they left the omnibus, the children had a discussion about the +painted lady, and could not decide whether they were glad or sorry that +Fly had spoken out so plainly. + +"Good enough for her," said Dotty. + +"But it was such a pity to hurt her feelings!" said Prudy. + +"Who hurted 'em?" asked Fly, looking rather sheepish. + +"Poh! her feelings can't be worth much," remarked Horace; "a woman +that'll go and rig herself up in that style." + +"She must be near-sighted," said Aunt Madge. "She certainly can't have +the faintest idea how thick that paint is. She ought to let somebody +else put it on." + +"But, auntie, isn't it wicked to wear paint on your cheeks?" + +"No, Dotty, only foolish. That woman was handsome once, but her beauty +is gone. She thinks she can make herself young again, and then people +will admire her." + +"O, but they won't; they'll only laugh." + +"Very true, Dotty; but I dare say she never thought of that till this +little child told her." + +"Fly," said Horace, "You are doing a great deal of good going round +hurting folks' feelings." + +"Poor woman!" said Aunt Madge, with a pitying smile; "she might comfort +herself by trying to make her soul beautiful." + +"That would be altogether the best plan," said Horace, aside to Prudy; +"she can't do much with her body, that's a fact; it's too dried up." + +All this while they were passing elegant shops, and Aunt Madge let the +children pause as long as they liked before the windows, to admire the +beautiful things. + +"Whose little grampa is that?" cried Fly, pointing to a Santa Claus +standing on the pavement and holding out his hands with a very pleasant +smile; "he's all covered with a snow-storm." + +"He isn't alive," said Dotty; "and the snow is only painted on his coat +in little dots." + +"Well, I didn't spect he was alive, Dotty Dimple, only but he made +believe he was. And O, see that hossy! he's dead, too, but he looks as +if you could ride on him." + +"This other window is the handsomest, Fly; don't I wish I had some of +those beautiful dripping, red ear-rings?" + +"Why, little sister," said Prudy, "I'd as soon think of wanting a gold +nose as those cat-tail ear-rings. What would Grandma Read say?" + +"Why, she'd say 'thee' and 'thou,' I s'pose, and ask me if I called 'em +the ornaments of meek and quiet spirits," said Dotty, with a slight curl +of the lip. "Auntie, is it wicked to wear jewels, if your grandma's a +Quaker?" + +"I think not; that is, if somebody should give you a pair; but I hope +somebody never will. It is a mere matter of taste, however. O, children, +now I think of it, I'll give you each a little pin-money to spend, +to-day, just as you like. A dollar each to Prudy and Dotty; and, Horace, +here is fifty cents for Flyaway." + +"O, you darling auntie!" cried the little Parlins, in a breath. Dotty +shut this, the largest bill she had ever owned, into her red +porte-monnaie, feeling sure she should never want for anything again +that money can buy. + +"There, now, Hollis," said Fly, drawing her mouth down and her eyebrows +up, "where's my skipt? _my_ skipt?" + +"What? A little snip like you mustn't have money," answered Horace, +carelessly; "auntie gave it to me." + +The moment he had spoken the words, he was sorry, for the child was too +young and sensitive to be trifled with. She never doubted that her great +cruel brother had robbed her. It was too much. Her "dove's eyes" shot +fire. Flyaway could be terribly angry, and her anger was "as quick as a +chain o' lightning." Before any one had time to think twice, she had +turned on her little heel, and was running away. With one impulse the +whole party turned and followed. + +"Prudy and I haven't breath enough to run," said Aunt Madge. "Here we +are at Stewart's. You'll find us in the rotunda, Horace. Come back here +with Fly, as soon as you have caught her." + +As soon as he had caught her! + +They were on Broadway, which was lined with people, moving to and fro. +Horace and Dotty had to push their way through the crowd, while little +Fly seemed to float like a creature of air. + +"Stop, Fly! Stop, Fly!" cried Horace; but that only added speed to her +wings. + +"She's like a piece of thistle-down," laughed Horace; "when you get near +her you blow her away." + +"Stop, O, stop," cried Dotty; "Horace was only in fun. Don't run away +from us, Fly." + +But by this time the child was so far off that the words were lost in +the din. + +"Why, where is she? I don't see her," exclaimed Horace, as the little +blue figure suddenly vanished, like a puff of smoke. "Did she cross the +street?" + +"I don't know, Horace. O, dear, I don't know." + +It was the first time a fear had entered either of their minds. Knowing +very little of the danger of large cities, they had not dreamed that the +foolish little Fly might get caught in some dreadful spider's web. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +DOTTY HAVING HER OWN WAY. + + +Yes, Fly was out of sight; that was certain. Whether she had turned to +the right, or to the left, or had merely gone straight on, fallen down, +and been trampled on, that was the question. How was one to find out? +People enough to inquire of, but nobody to answer. + +Horace had as many thoughts as a drowning man. How had he ever dared +bring such a will-o'-the-wisp away from home? How had his mother +consented to let him? His father had charged him, over and over, not to +let go Fly's hand in the street. That did very well to talk about; but +what could you do with a child that wasn't made of flesh and blood, but +the very lightest kind of gas? + +"Dotty, turn down this street, and I'll keep on up Broadway. No--no; +you'd get lost. What shall we do? Go just where I do, as hard as you can +run, and don't lose sight of me." + +Dotty began to pant. She could not keep on at this rate of speed, and +Horace saw it. + +"You'll have to go back to Stewart's." + +"Where's Stewart's?" gasped Dotty, still running. + +"Why, that stone building on Tenth Street, with blue curtains, where we +left auntie." + +"I don't know anything about Tenth Street or blue curtains." + +"But you'll know it when you get there. Just cross over--" + +"O, Horace Clifford, I can't cross over! There's horses and carriages +every minute; and my mother made me almost promise I wouldn't ever cross +over." + +"There are plenty of policemen, Dotty; they'll take you by the +shoulder--" + +"O, Horace Clifford, they shan't take me by the shoulder! S'pose I want +'em marching me off to the lockup?" screamed Dotty, who believed the +lockup was the chief end and aim of policemen. + +"Well, then, I don't know anything what to do with you," said Horace, in +despair. + +It seemed very hard that he should have the care of this willful little +cousin, just when he wanted so much to be free to pursue Flyaway. + +"If you won't go back to Stewart's, you won't. Will you go into this +shop, then, and wait till I call for you?" + +"You'll forget to call." + +"I certainly won't forget." + +"Well, then, I'll go in; but I won't promise to stay. I want to help +hunt for Fly just as much as you do." + +"Dotty Dimple, look me right in the eye. I can't stop to coax you. I'm +frightened to death about Fly. Do you go into this store, and stay in it +till I call for you, if it's six hours. If you stir, you're lost. +Do--you--_hear_?" + +"Yes, I _hear_.--H'm, he thinks my ears are thick as ears o' corn? No +holes in 'em to hear with, I s'pose! Horace Clifford hasn't got the +_say_ o' me, though. I can go all over town for all o' him!" + +"What will you have, my little lady?" said a clerk, bowing to Dotty. + +"I don't want anything, if you please, sir. There was a boy, and he +asked me to stay here while he went to find something." + +"Very well; sit as long as you please." + +"Screwed right down into the floor, this piano stool is," thought Dotty; +"makes it real hard to sit on, because you can't whirl it. Guess I'll +walk 'round a while. Why, if here isn't a window right in the floor! +Strong enough to walk on. There's a man going over it with big boots and +a cane. I can look right down into the cellar. Only just I can't see any +thing, though, the glass is so thick." + +Dotty watched the clerks measuring off yards of cloth, tapping on the +counter, and calling out, "Cash." It was rather funny, at first, to see +the little boys run; but Dotty soon tired of it. + +"Horace is gone a long while," thought she, going to the door and +looking out. + +"He has forgotten to call, or he's forgotten where he left me, or else +he hasn't found Fly. Dear, dear! I can't wait. I'll just go out a few +steps, and p'rhaps I'll meet 'em." + +She walked out a little way, seeing nothing but a multitude of strange +faces. + +"Well, I should think this was queer! I'll go right back to that store, +and sit down on the piano stool. If Horace Clifford can't be more +polite! Well, I should think!" + +Dotty went back, and entered, as she supposed, the store she had left; +but a great change had come over it. It had the same counters, and +stools, and goods on lines, marked "Selling off below cost;" but the men +looked very different. "I don't see how they could change round so +quick," thought Dotty; "I haven't been gone _more'n_ a minute." + +"What shall I serve you to, mees," said one of them, with a smile that +was all black eyes and white teeth. Dotty thought he looked very much +like Lina _Rosenbug's_ brother; and his hair was so shiny and sticky, it +must have been dipped in molasses. + +She answered him with some confusion. "I don't want anything. I was the +girl, you know, that the boy was going somewhere to find something." + +The man smiled wickedly, and said, "Yees, mees." In an instant it +flashed across Dotty that she had got into the wrong store. Where was +the glass window she had walked on? They couldn't have taken that out +while she was gone. The floor was whole, and made of nothing but boards. + +"Well, it's very queer stores should be _twins_," thought Dotty. + +She entered the next one. It was not a "twin;" it was full of books and +pictures. + +"Why didn't Horace leave me here, in the first place, it was so much +nicer. And they let people read and handle the pictures. O, they have +the _goldest_-looking things!" + +How shocked Prudy would have been, if she had seen her little sister +reaching up to the counter, and turning over the leaves of books, side +by side with grown people! Miss Dimple was never very bashful; and what +did she care for the people in New York, who never saw her before? She +soon became absorbed in a fairy story. Seconds, minutes, quarters; it +was a whole hour before she came to herself enough to remember that +Horace was to call for her, and she was not where he had left her. + +"But he can't scold; for didn't he keep me waiting, too? Now I'll go +back." + +The next place she entered was a cigar store. + +"I might have known better than to go in; for there's that wooden Indian +standing there, a-purpose to keep ladies out!" + +"O, here's a 'Sample Room.' Now this _must_ be the place, for it says +'Push,' on the green door, just as the other one did." + +What was Dotty's astonishment, when she found she had rushed into a room +which held only tables, bottles, and glasses, and men drinking something +that smelt like hot brandy! + +"I shan't go into any more 'Sample Rooms.' I didn't know a 'Sample' +meant whiskey! But, I do declare, it's funny where _my_ store is gone +to." + +The child was going farther and farther away from it. + +"Here is one that looks a little like it Any way, I can see a glass +window in there, on the floor." + +A lady stood at a counter, folding a piece of green velvet ribbon. Dotty +determined to make friends with her; so she went up to her, and said, in +a low voice, "Will you please tell me, ma'am, if I'm the same little +girl that was in here before? No, I don't mean so. I mean, did I go into +the same store, or is this a different one? Because there's a boy going +to call for me, and I thought I'd better know." + +Of course the lady smiled, and said it might, or might not be the same +place; but she did not remember to have seen Dotty before. + +"What was the number of the store? The boy ought to have known." + +"But I don't believe he did," replied Dotty, indignantly; "he never said +a word to me about numbers. I'm almost afraid I'll get lost!" + +"I should be quite afraid of it, child. Where do you live?" + +"In Portland, in the State of Maine. Prudy and I came to New York: our +auntie sent for us--I know the place when I see it; side of a church +with ivy; but O, dear! I'm afraid the stage don't stop there. She's at +Mr. Stewart's--she and Prudy." + +"Do you mean Stewart's store?" + +"O, no'm; it's a man she knows," replied Dotty, confidently; "he lives +in a blue house." + +The lady asked no more questions. If Dotty had said "Stewart's store," +and had remembered that the curtains were blue, and not the building, +Miss Kopper would have thought she knew what to do; she would have sent +the child straight to Stewart's. + +"Poor little thing!" said she, twisting the long curl, which hung down +the back of her neck like a bell-rope, and looking as if she cared more +about her hair than she cared for all the children in Portland. "The +best thing you can do is to go right into the druggist's, next door but +one, and look in the City Directory. Do you know your aunt's husband's +name?" + +"O, yes'm. Colonel Augustus Allen, _Fiftieth_ Avenue." + +"Well, then, there'll be no difficulty. Just go in and ask to look in +the Directory; they'll tell you what stage to take. Now I must attend to +these ladies. Hope you'll get home safe." + +"A handsome child," said one of the ladies. "Yes, from the country," +replied Miss Kopper with a sweet smile; "I have just been showing her +the way home." + +Ah, Miss Kopper, perhaps you thought you were telling the truth; but +instead of relieving the country child's perplexity, you had confused +her more than ever. What should Dotty Dimple know about a City +Directory? She forgot the name of it before she got to the druggist's. + +"Please, sir, there's something in here,--may I see it?--that shows +folks where they live." + +"A policeman?" + +"No; O, no, sir." + +After some time, the gentleman, being rather shrewd, surmised what she +wanted, and gave her the book. + +"Not that, sir," said Dotty, ready to cry. + +Perhaps you will be as ready to laugh, when you hear that the child +really supposed a City Directory was an instrument that drew out and +shut up like a telescope, and, by peeping through it, she could see the +distant home of Colonel Allen, on "Fiftieth Avenue." + +The apothecary did not laugh at her; but, being a kind man, and, +moreover, not having curls hanging down his neck which needed attention, +he gave his whole care to Dotty, found an omnibus for her, told the +driver just where to let her out, and made her repeat her uncle's street +and number till he thought there was no danger of a mistake. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +DOTTY REBUKED. + + +One would have thought that now all Dotty's troubles were over; and so +they would have been, if she had not tried so hard to remember the +number. She said it over and over so many times, that all of a sudden it +went out of her mind. It was like rolling a ball on the ground, backward +and forward, till most unexpectedly it pops into a hole. Very much +frightened, Dotty bit her lip, twirled her front hair, and pinched her +left cheek--all in vain; the number wouldn't come. + +"O, dear, what'll I do? I'd open that cellar door, where the driver is; +but he's all done up in a blue cape, and don't know anything only how +to whip his horses. And there don't anybody know where anybody lives in +this city; so it's no use to ask. For what do they care? They'd tell you +to look in the Dictionary. There's nobody in Portland ever told me to +look in a Dictionary. Here they are, sitting round here, just as happy, +all but me. They all live in a number, and they know what it is; but +they keep it to themselves,--they don't tell. It always makes people +feel better to know where they're going to. When I'm in Portland I know +how to get to Park Street, and how to get to Munjoy, and how to get to +Back Cove, with my eyes shut. But they don't make things as they ought +to in New York. You can't find out what to do." + +So the stage rumbled, and Dotty grumbled. Presently a lady in an ermine +cloak got out, and Dotty did not know of anything better to do than to +follow. She certainly was on Fifth Avenue, and perhaps, if she walked +on, she should come to the number. + +"There isn't any house along here that looks like auntie's," said she, +anxiously; "only they all look like it some. I never saw such a place as +this city, So many same things right over, and over; and then, when you +go into 'em, its just as different, and not the place you s'posed it +was." + +Here Dotty ran up some steps, and rang a bell. She thought the damask +curtains looked familiar. + +"No, no," cried she, running down again, as fast as the mouse ran down +the clock; "my auntie don't keep onions in her bay window, I hope!" + +It was hyacinth bulbs, in glass vases, which had excited Dotty's +disgust. + +"O, I guess I'm on the wrong side of the street; no wonder I can't find +the house. There, I see a chamber window open; _our_ chamber window was +open. I'm going to cross over and get near enough to see if there's a +little clock on the shelf that ticks like a dog wagging his tail." + +No, there was no clock of any sort, and where the shelf ought to be was +a baby's crib. + +"Well, any way, here's that beautiful church, with ivy round it; it's +ever so near auntie's; so I'll keep walking." + +Dotty was right when she said the church was near auntie's--it was +within three doors; but she was wrong when she kept walking precisely +the wrong way. She crossed over to Sixth Avenue. Now, where were the +brown houses? She saw the horse-cars plodding along, and tried to read +the words on them. + +"'Sixth Ave. and Fifty-Ninth Street.' Why, what's an _ave_? I never heard +of such a thing before; we don't have 'aves' in Portland. There are ever +so many people getting out of that car. While it stops, I'll peep in, +and see where it's going to. Perhaps there's a name inside that tells." + +And, with her usual rashness, Dotty stepped upon the platform of the +car, and looked in. What she expected to see she hardly knew,--perhaps +"Aunt Madge's House," in gold letters; but what she really saw was, "No +Smoking;" those two words, and nothing more. + +"Well, who wants to smoke? I'm sure _I_ don't," thought Dotty, +disdainfully, and was turning to step off the platform, when Horace +Clifford seized her by the shoulder. + +"Where did you come from, you runaway?" said he, gruffly. + +Close beside him were Aunt Madge and Prudy; all three were getting out +of the car. + +"Thank Heaven, one of them is found," cried Aunt Madge, her face very +pale, her large eyes full of trouble. + +Prudy kissed and scolded in the same breath. "O, Dotty Dimple, you'd +better believe we're glad to see you?--but what a naughty girl! A pretty +race you've led Horace, and he just wild about Fly!" + +"H'm! what'd he go off for, then, and leave me there, sitting on a piano +stool? S'pose I's going to sit there all day? Didn't I want to go home +as much as the rest of you." + +"And how did you get home? I'd like to know that," said Horace, walking +on with great strides, and then coming back again to the "ladies;" for +his anxiety about his little sister would not allow him to behave +calmly. + +"I rode." + +"You weren't in the car _we_ came in." + +"N-o; I just happened to be peeking in there you know. But I came in an +_omnibius_." + +"It is wonderful," said Aunt Madge, looking puzzled, "that you ever knew +what omnibus to take." + +Dotty looked down to see if her boot was buttoned, and forgot to look up +again. "Well, _I_ shouldn't have known one _omnibius_, as you call it, +from another," said Prudy, lost in admiration. "Why, Dotty, how bright +you are! And there we were, so afraid about you, and spoke to a +policeman to look you up." + +"I wouldn't let a p'liceman catch _me_," said Dotty, tossing her head. +"But haven't you found Fly yet?" + +They were at home by this time, and Horace was ringing the bell. + +"No, the dear child is still missing; but the police are on her track," +said Aunt Madge, looking at her watch. "It is now one o'clock. Keep a +good heart, Horace, my boy. John shall go straight to the telegraph +office, and wait there for a despatch. Don't you leave us, dear; we +can't spare you, and you can do no good." + +Horace made no reply, except to tap the heels of his boots together. He +looked utterly crushed. A large city was just as strange to him as it +was to Dotty, and he could only obey his aunt's orders, and try to hope +for the best. Dotty seemed to be the only one who felt like saying a +word, and she talked incessantly. + +"O, what'd you send the p'lice after her for? To put her in the lockup, +and make her cry and think she's been naughty? It's the awfulest city +that ever I saw. Folks might send her home, if they were a mind to, but +they won't. They don't care what 'comes of you. There's cars and stages +going to which ways, and nothing but 'No Smoking,' inside. And I went +and peeped in at a window, and there was _onions_! And how'd I know +where to go to? There was a girl with a long curl, and she said, 'Go to +the 'pothecary's;' and what would Fly have known where she meant? And he +looked in a Dictionary, and put me in a stage,--I was going to tell you +about that when I got ready,--and asked me if I had ten cents, and I +had; and then I forgot what the number was, and that was the time I saw +the onions, or I should have gone right into somebody's else's house. +And I knew there was a church with ivy round, but Fly don't know; she's +nothing but a baby. And I should have thought, Horace Clifford, you +might have given her that money! That was what made her run off; you was +real cruel, and that's why I wouldn't mind what you said. And--and--" + +"Hush," said Aunt Madge, brushing back a spray of fair curls, which the +wind had tossed over her forehead. "I don't allow a word of scolding in +my house. If you don't feel pleasant, Dotty, you may go into the back +yard and scold into a hole." + +Dotty stopped suddenly. She knew her aunt was displeased; she felt it in +the tones of her voice. + +"Dotty, the wind has been at play with your hair as well as mine. +Suppose we both go up stairs a few minutes?" + +"There, auntie's going to reason with me," thought Dotty, winding slowly +up the staircase; "I didn't suppose she was one of that kind." + +"No dear, I'm _not_ one of that kind," said Mrs. Allen, roguishly; for +she saw just what the child was thinking. "'I come not here to talk.' +All I have to say is this: Disobey again, and I send you home +immediately." + +"Yes'm," said the little culprit, blushing crimson. "Now, brush your +hair, and let us go down." This was the only allusion Mrs. Allen ever +made to the subject; but after this, she and Dotty understood each other +perfectly. Dotty had learned, once for all, that her aunt was not to be +trifled with. + +The child really was ashamed--thoroughly ashamed; but do you suppose +she admitted it to Horace? Not she. And he, so full of anguish +concerning the lost Fly, found not a word of fault; scarcely even +thought of his naughty cousin at all. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +THE LOST FLY. + + +Now we must go back and see what has become of the little one. + +At first her heart had swollen with rage. Anger had set her going, just +as a blow from a battledoor sends off a shuttlecock. And, once being +started, the poor little shuttlecock couldn't stop. + +"Auntie gave me that skipt. Hollis is a very wicked boy; steals skipt +from little gee-urls. I don't ever want to see Hollis no more." + +What she meant to do, or where to go, she had no more idea than the blue +clouds overhead. She had no doubt her brother was close behind, trying +to overtake her. Her sole thought was, that she "wouldn't ever see +Hollis no more." She knew nothing could make him so unhappy as that. +"I'll lose me, and then how'll he feel?" + +"Lose me!" A wild thought, gone in a moment; but meanwhile she was +already lost. + +"I hope auntie won't give Hollis nuffin to eat, 'cause he's took away my +skipt; nuffin to eat but meat and vertato, athout any pie." + +Flyaway shook her head so hard, that the "war-plume" under her bonnet +would have nodded, if the air could have got at it. "Why, where's +Hollis?" said she, looking back, and finding, to her surprise, he was +not to be seen. "I spected he'd come. I thought I heard him walking +ahind me." + +Flyaway's anger had died out by this time. It never lasted longer than +a Fourth of July torpedo. + +"He didn't know I runned off. Guess I'll go back, and he'll give me the +skipt; and then I'll forgive him all goody." + +A very nice plan; only, instead of going back, she turned a corner, and +tripped along towards University Place. She had twisted her head so much +in looking for Horace, that it was completely turned round. And, +besides, a little farther on was a man playing a harp, and a small boy a +violin. Fly paused and listened, till she no longer remembered Horace or +the "skipt." She forgot this was New York, and dreamed she had come to +fairy-land. Her soul was full of music. Happy thoughts about nothing in +particular made her smile and clap her hands. Birds, flowers, Santa +Clauses, Flipperties, and "pepnits" seemed to hover near. Something +beautiful was just going to happen, she didn't know what. + +After the man had played for some time without attracting attention from +any body but Flyaway and a poor old beggar woman, he put his harp in a +green bag, slung it over his shoulder, and walked off. Flyaway followed +without knowing it. Down Sixth Avenue went the music-man, and close at +his heels went she. By and by she saw a little girl, no larger than +herself, with a great bundle on her shoulders. + +"You don't s'pose she's got a music on _her_ back?--No, not a music; +it's too soft all swelled out in a bunch." + +Fly went nearer the little girl, to see what she was carrying; and as +she did so, some gray coals, mixed with ashes, fell out of the bundle +upon her nice cloak. + +"Why, she's been and carried off her mother's fireplace," thought Fly, +shaking her cloak in disgust; "what you s'pose she wanted to do that +for?" + +But far from carrying off her mother's fireplace, the ragged little girl +had only been picking up old coal out of barrels, and was taking it home +to burn. It had already been burned once, and picked over and burned +again, and thrown away; but perhaps this poor child's mother could coax +it into a faint glow, warm enough to fry a few potatoes. + +While Flyaway was shaking her cloak, and staring at some old silk +dresses and bed-quilts, which were hung before a shop-door, the man with +the harp on his back, and the boy with a violin under his arm, had +turned a corner, and passed out of sight. Flyaway rubbed her eyes, and +looked again. They must have gone down through the brick pavement, but +she couldn't see any hole. Far away in the distance she heard their +music again, and it did not come from under ground. She ran to overtake +it, and turned into Bleecker Street. No music-man there, but a good +supply of oranges and apples. + +"Needn't folks put their hands in, and take some out the barrels? Then +why for did the folks put 'em on' doors?" + +While pondering this grave question, she was jostled by a man carrying a +rocking-chair, and very nearly fell down stairs into an oyster-saloon. A +minute more and she was back on Broadway, the very street, where Aunt +Madge and Prudy were waiting for her, but so much lower down that she +might as well have been in the State of Maine. + +"Now, I'll go find my Hollis," said she turning another corner, and +running the wrong way with all her might. Past candy-stalls, past +toy-shops, past orange-wagons. Hark, music again! Not the soft strains +of a harp, but the stirring notes of bugle, fife, and drum. Fly kept +time with her feet. + +"Here we go marchin' on," hummed she. But the crowd "marchin' on" with +her was a strange one. Carts full of hammers, pincers, and all sorts of +iron tools, and men in gray shirts, with black caps on their heads. Some +of the men had banners, with great black words, such as "Equal Rights," +or something like them, in German; but of course Fly could not tell one +letter from another. She only knew it was all very "homebly," in spite +of the music. She began to think she had better get away as soon as she +could; so she tried to cross the street, but some one held her back; it +was a lady, carrying a small dog in her arms, like a baby. + +"Don't go there, child; that's a strike, you'll get killed." + +Fly knew but one meaning for the word _strike_; and, tearing herself +from the lady, ran screaming down Broadway, with the thought that every +man's hand was against her. + +On she went, and on went the strike, close behind her. A little while +ago she had been following music, and now music was following her. But +the fifes and drums were rather slow, and Flyaway's feet were very +swift; so it was not long before the gray men, with their white banners +and clattering carts, were far behind her. No danger now that any of the +wicked creatures would strike her; so she slackened her pace. + +She did begin to wonder why she had not found Horace; still, she was not +at all alarmed, and there was a dreadful din in the streets, which +confused her thoughts. It seemed as if people were making it on purpose. +Once, at Willowbrook, she had heard boys banging tin pans, grinding +coffee mills, and pounding with mortars. She had liked that,--they +called it the "Calathumpian Band,"--and she liked this too; it sounded +about as uproarious. + +While she sauntered along, spying wonders, her eye was attracted by some +balancing-toys, which a man was showing off at one of the corners. What +a pleasant man he was, to set them spinning just to amuse little girls! +Fly was delighted with one wee soldier, in a blue coat with brass +buttons, who kept dancing and bowing with the greatest politeness. +"Captain Jinks, of the horse-marines," said the toy-man, introducing +him. "Buy him, miss; he'll make a nice little husband for you; only +fifteen cents." + +Fly felt quite flattered. It was the first time in her life any one had +ever asked her to buy anything, and she thought she must have grown tall +since she came from Indiana. She put her fingers in her mouth, then took +them out, and put them in her pocket. + +"Here's my porte-monnaie-ry," said she, dolefully; "but I haven't but +two cents--no more. Hollis carried it off." + +"Well, well, run along, then. Don't you see you're right in the way?" + +Fly was surprised and grieved at the change in the man's tone: she had +expected he would pity her for not having any money. + +"Come here, you little lump of love," called out a mellow voice; and +there, close by, sat a wizened old woman, making flowers into nosegays. +She had on a quilted hood as soft as her voice, but everything else +about her was as hard as the door-stone she sat on. + +"See my beautiful flowers," said the old crone, pointing to the table +before her; "who cares for them jumping things over yonder? I don't." + +The flowers were tied in bouquets--sweet violets, rosebuds, and +heliotrope. Fly, whose head just reached the top of the table, smelt +them, and forgot the "little husband, for fifteen cents." + +"He's a cross man, dearie," said the old woman, lowering her voice, "or +he wouldn't have sent you off so quick, just because you hadn't any +money. Now, I love little girls, and I'll warrant we can make some kind +of a trade for one of my posies." + +Fly smiled, and quickly seized a bouquet with a clove pink in it. + +"Not so fast, child! What you got that you can give me for it? I don't +mind the money. That old pocket-book will do, though 'tain't wuth much." + +It was very surprising to Fly to hear her port-monnaie called old; for +it was bought last week, and was still as red as the cheeks of the +painted lady. + +"I don't _dass_ to give folks my porte-monnaie-ry," said she, clutching +it tighter, but holding the flowers to her nose all the while. + +"O, fudge! Well, what else you got in your pocket? A handkerchief?" + +"No, my hangerfiss is in my muff." + +"That? Why, there isn't a speck o' lace on it. Nice little ladies always +has lace. Here's a letter in the corner; what is it?" + +"Hollis says it's K; stands for Flyaway." + +"Well, you're such a pretty little pink, I guess I'll take it; but +'tain't wuth lookin' at," said the crafty old woman, who saw at a glance +it was pure linen, and quite fine. + +"Now run along, baby; your mummer will be waitin' for you." + +Fly walked on slowly. Ought she to have parted with her very best +hangerfiss! + +"Nice ole lady, loved little gee-urls; but what you s'pose folks was +goin' to cry into now?" + +Tears started at the thought. One of them dropped into the eye of the +squirrel, who sat on the muff, peeping up into her face. + +"Nice ole lady, I s'pose; but folks never wanted to buy my +_hangerfisses_ byfore!" thought Fly, much puzzled by the state of +society in New York. "And I've got some beau-fler flowers to my auntie's +house. Wake up--wake up!" added she, blowing open a pink rose-bud; +"you's too little for me." + +But the bud did not wish to wake up and be a rose; it curled itself +together, and went to sleep again. + +"I don't see where Hollis stays to all the time," exclaimed the little +one, beginning to have a faint curiosity about it. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +"THE FRECKLED DOG." + + +But just then a gentle-looking blind girl came along led by a dog. The +sight was so strange that Flyaway stopped to admire; for whatever else +she might be afraid of, she always loved and trusted a dog. + +"Doggie, doggie," cried she, patting the little animal's head. + +"O, _what_ a sweet voice," said the blind girl, putting out her hand and +groping till she touched Fly's shoulder. "I never heard such a voice!" + +This was what strangers often said, and Flyaway never doubted the +sweetness was caused by eating so much candy; but just now she had had +none for two days. + +"What makes you shut your eyes up, right in the street, girl? Is the +_seeingness_ all gone out of 'em?" + +"Yes, you darling. I haven't had any seeingness in my eyes for a year." + +"You didn't? Then you's _blind-eyed_," returned Flyaway, with perfect +coolness. + +"And don't you feel sorry for me--not a bit?" + +"No, 'cause your dog is freckled so pretty." + +"But I can't see his freckles." + +"Well, he's got 'em. Little yellow ones, spattered out all over him." + +"But if I had eyes like you, I shouldn't need any dog. I could go about +the streets alone." + +"Well, I don't like to go 'bout the streets alone; I want my own +brother Hollis." + +"I hope you haven't got lost, little dear?" + +"No," laughed Fly, gayly; "I didn't get lost! But I don't know where +nobody is! And there don't nobody know where _I_ am!" + +The blind girl took Fly's little hand tenderly in hers. + +"Come, turn down this street with me, and tell me all about it." + +Fly trudged along, prattling merrily, for about a minute: then she drew +away. "'Tisn't a nice place; I don't want to go there." + +A look of pain crossed the blind girl's face. + +"No, I dare say you don't. It isn't much of a place for folks with silk +bonnets on." + +"You can't see my bonnet; you can't see anything, you're blind-eyed; +but," said Fly, glancing sharply around, "it isn't pretty here, at all; +and there's a dead cat right in the street." + +"Yes, I think likely." + +"And there's a boy. I spect he frowed the cat out the window; he hasn't +nuffin on but dirty cloe's." + +"Do you see some steps?" said the blind girl, putting her hand out +cautiously. "Don't fall down." + +"I shan't fall down; I'm going home." + +"O, don't child; you must come with me. My mother will take care of +you." + +"I don't want nobody's mother to take 'are o' me; I've got a mamma +myself!" + +"How little you know!" said the blind girl, thinking aloud; "how lucky +it is I found you! and O, dear, how I wish I could see! You'll slip +away in spite of me." + +But Flyaway allowed herself to be drawn along, step by step, partly +because she liked the "freckled dog," and partly because she had not +ceased being amused by the droll sight of a person walking with closed +eyes. + +"What's the name of you, girl?" + +"Maria." + +"Maria? So was my mamma; her name was Maria, when she was a little girl. +O, look, there's another boy; don't you see him? Up high, in that house. +Got a big box with a string to it." + +A very rough-looking boy was standing at a third-story window, lowering +a bandbox by a clothes-line. As Fly watched the box slowly coming down, +the boy called out,-- + +"Get in, little un, and I'll give you a free ride." + +"O, no--O, no; I don't _dass_ to." + +"Yes, yes; go in, lemons," said the boy, choking with laughter, as he +saw the child's horror. "If you don't do it, by cracky, I'll come down +and fetch you." + +At this, Fly was frightened nearly out of her senses, and ran so fast +that the dog could scarcely have kept up with her, even if he had not +had a blind mistress pulling him back. + +"O, where are you?" exclaimed Maria. "Don't run away from me,--don't!" + +"He's a-gon to kill me in two," cried Flyaway, stopping for breath.' +"he's a-gon to kill me in two-oo!" + +"No, he isn't, dear! It's only Izzy Paul He couldn't catch you, if he +tried. He's lame, and goes on crutches." + +"But he said a swear word,--yes he, did," sobbed the child, never +doubting that a boy who could swear was capable of murder, though he had +neither hands nor feet. + +"Stop, now," said Maria, clutching Fly as if she had been a spinning +top. "This is my house. Mother, mother, here's a little girl; catch +her--hold her--keep her!" + +"Me? What should I catch a little girl for?" said Mrs. Brooks, a faded +woman with a tired face, and a nose that moved up and down when she +talked. She had been standing at the door of their tumbledown tenement, +looking for her daughter, and was surprised to see her bringing a +strange child with her. It was not often that well-dressed people +wandered into that dirty alley. + +"The poor little thing has got lost, mother. Perhaps _you_ can find out +where she came from. I didn't ask her any questions; it was as much as I +could do to keep up with her." + +Maria put her hand on her side. Fast walking always tired her, for she +was afraid every moment of falling. + +They had to go down a flight of stairs to get into the house; and after +they got there Fly looked around in dismay. + +"I don't want to stay in the stable," she murmured. Indeed it was not +half as nice as the place where her father kept his horse. + +"But this is where we have to live," sighed Maria. + +"Have things to eat?" asked the little stranger, in a solemn whisper. + +There were a few chairs with broken backs, a few shelves with clean +dishes, a few children with hungry faces. In one corner was a clumsy +bedstead, and in a tidy bed lay a pale man. + +"Who've you got there, Maria?" said he. "Bring her along, and stick her +up on the bed." + +"Don't be afraid," said Mrs. Brooks; "it's only pa; wouldn't the little +girl like to talk to him? He's sick." + +Flyaway was not at all afraid, for the man smiled pleasantly, and did +not look as if he would hurt anybody. Mrs. Brooks set her on the bed, +and Maria, afraid of losing her, held her by one foot. The children all +crowded around to see the little lady in a silk bonnet holding a +button-hole bouquet to her bosom. + +"Ain't she a ducky dilver!" said the oldest boy. "Pa'll be pleased, for +he don't see things much. Has to keep abed all the time." + +Mr. Brooks tried to smile, and Flyaway whispered to Maria, with sudden +pity,-- + +"Sorry he's sick. Has he got to stay sick? Can't you find the camphor +bottle?" + +"O, father, she thinks if ycu had some camphor to smell of, 'twould cure +you." + +Then they all laughed, and Fly timidly offered the sick man her flowers. + +"What, that pretty posy for me? Bless you, baby, they'll do me a sight +more good than camfire!" + +"There," said Maria, joyfully, "now pa is pleased; I know by the sound +of his voice. Poor pa! only think, little girl, a stick of timber fell +on him, and lamed him for life!" + +"Yes," said Bennie, "the lower part of him is as limber as a rag." + +"She don't sense a word you say," remarked Mrs. Brooks, shaking up a +pillow, "See what we can get out of her. What's your name, dear?" + +"Katie Clifford." + +"Where do you live?" + +"I _have_ been borned in Nindiana." + +Fly spoke with some pride. She considered her birth an honor to the +state. + +"But where did you come from, Katie? That's what we mean." + +"I camed from heaven," said the child, with one of her wise looks. + +"Beats all, don't she?" cried Mr. Brooks, admiringly. "Looks like an +angel, I declare for't. Did you just drop down out of the sky?" + +"No, sir," answered Flyaway, folding her little hands as if she were +saying her prayers; "I camed down when I was a baby." + +[Illustration: "I CAMED DOWN WHEN I WAS A BABY."] + +"That's what makes your hair so _goldy_," said Bennie. "Mother, did you +ever see such eyes? Say, did you ever? So soft, and kinder shiny, too." + +"Children, don't stare at her; it makes her uneasy." + +"_I_ can't stare at her," said Maria, bitterly. "I suppose you don't +mean me, mother." + +Mrs. Brooks only answered her poor daughter by a kiss. + +"Well, little Katie, after you were born in _Nindiana_, you came to New +York. When did you come?" + +"One of these other days I camed here with Hollis." + +"Who's Hollis?" + +"He's my own brother. Got a new cap. Had his hair cut." + +"Who did you come to New York to see?" "My auntie." + +"Her auntie! A great deal of satisfaction we are likely to get out of +this child," said Mr. Brooks, laughing. He had not laughed before for a +week. + +"What's your auntie's name?" + +"Aunt Madge." + +"Is she married?" + +"O, yes; and so's Uncle 'Gustus. Married together, and live together, +just the same." + +"Uncle 'Gustus who? Now we'll come at it!" + +"Alling," replied Fly, her quick eyes roving about the room, for she was +tired of these questions. + +"Allen, Augustus Allen!" said Mr. Brooks, in surprise; "I wonder if +there can be two of them. Tell me, child, how does he look?" + +"Don't look like you," replied Fly, after a keen survey of Mr. Brooks. +"Your face is pulled away down long, like that;" (stretching her hand +out straight) "Uncle 'Gustus's face is squeezed up short" (doubling her +hand into a ball) + +"I'll warrant it is the colonel himself," said Mrs. Brooks, smiling at +the description. + +"Yes, that's the name of him; the 'kernil's' the name of him." + +"Is it possible!" said Mr. Brooks, looking very much pleased. + +"Uncle 'Gustus has curly hair on his cheeks, on his mouf, all round. +_Not_ little prickles, sticking out like needles." + +"O, you girl!" said Bennie, frowning at Fly. "You mustn't laugh at my +pa's beard. There's a man comes in, sometimes, and shaves him nice; but +now the man's gone to Newark." + +"Is it possible," repeated Mrs. Brooks, taking the child's hand, "that +this is Colonel Allen's little niece, and my Maria found her!" + +"Your Maria didn't find me," said Fly, decidedly; "I founded Maria." + +"So she did, pa. The first thing I knew, I heard somebody calling, +Doggie, doggie,' in such a sweet voice; and then I looked--no, of course +I _couldn't_ look." + +Here the discouraged look came over Maria's mouth, and she said no more. + +"There, there, cheer up, daughter," said Mr. Brooks, with tears in his +eyes; "I was only going on to say, it is passing strange that any of our +family should run afoul of one of the colonel's folks." + +"It's the Lord's doings; I haven't the slightest doubt of it," said Mrs. +Brooks, earnestly. "You know what I've been saying to you, pa." + +"There, there, ma'am, _don't_," said Mr. Brooks; "don't go to raising +false hopes. You know I'm too proud to beg of anybody's folks." + +"Why, pa, I shouldn't call it begging just to tell Colonel Allen how you +are situated! Do you suppose, if he knew the facts of the case, he'd be +willing to let you suffer? Such a faithful man as you used to be to +work." + +"No, I think it's likely he wouldn't. He's got more heart than some rich +folks; but I hain't no sort of claim on the colonel, if I did help build +his house. And then, ma'am, you know I've been kind o' hopin'--" + +"Guess I'll go now, and find Hollis," said Fly, slipping down from the +bed, for the talk did not interest her. + +"O, but I want to go with you, Katie," said Mrs. Brooks, coaxingly. +"Bennie, you amuse her, while I change my dress." + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +MARIA'S MOTHER. + + +"I know your uncle must feel dreadfully to lose you; but never +mind--he'll see you soon," said Mr. Brooks. + +"O, Uncle 'Gustus isn't there." + +"Not there?" said Mrs. Brooks, turning round from the cracked +looking-glass. "Where then?" + +"O, he's gone off." + +"Gone off? Why, pa, ain't that too bad? I'm right up and down +disappointed. But, then, the colonel has a wife; I can go to see her, +you know; and I'll tell her just how you're situ--" + +"My Aunt Madge is gone off, too." + +"You don't say so!" + +"And my brother Hollis is gone." + +"This is a funny piece of work if it's true," said Mr. Brooks, with +another genuine laugh; "you'd better ask her a few more questions before +you start out. Who else is gone? Have they shut the house up?" + +"Yes, sir; shut it right up tight." + +"Nobody in it, at all?" + +"No, only the men and women. Prudy's gone, and Dotty Dimple's gone, and +I'm gone." + +"Only the men and women, she says. That must be the servants. So the +house must be open, pa. At any rate, I shall take her. Say by-bye, my +pretty, and we'll be starting." + +Fly was very glad to go, but Maria clung to her fondly, and Bennie ran +after her almost to Broadway, where Mrs. Brooks took a Fifth Avenue +stage. She knew Colonel Allen's house very well, for she had seen it +more than once, while it was in process of building. That was two or +three years ago, when her husband was well, and the family lived very +comfortably on Thirty-third Street. She sighed as she thought how +different it was now. Mr. Brooks would never be able to work any more; +they hardly had food enough to eat, and poor Maria had lost her +eyesight. + +"Here we are, little Katie," said she. + +But the child did not wait to be helped out; she danced down the steps, +and would have flown across the street, if Mrs. Brooks had not caught +her. + +"I see it--I see it; my auntie's house. But there isn't nobody to it." + +The man who met them at the door was so surprised and delighted to see +Fly, that he forgot his manners, and did not ask Mrs. Brooks in. + +"Bless us, the baby's found!" cried he, and ran to spread the news. + +Aunt Madge was walking the parlor floor, and Horace sitting on the sofa, +as rigid as the marble elf Puck, just over his head. Prudy and Dotty had +joined hands, and were crying softly on the rug. As the police had been +notified of Fly's loss, all the family had to do was to wait. A servant +was at the nearest telegraph office, with a horse and carriage, and at +the first tidings would drive home and report. + +The words "The baby's found" rang through the house like a peal of +bells. In an instant Flyaway Runaway was clasped in everybody's arms, +and wet with everybody's tears. + +"Thought I'd come back," said the little truant, peeping up at her +agitated friends' with some surprise; "thought I'd come back and get my +skipt!" + +Then they exclaimed, in chorus,-- + +"Topknot _shall_ have her skipt! The blessed baby! The darling old Fly!" + +And Dotty wound up by saying,-- + +"Why, you see, we thought you's dead!" + +Flyaway, who had at first been very much astonished at the fuss made +over her, now looked deeply offended. + +"Who said I's dead? What--a--drefful--lie!" + +"O, nobody said so, Fly; only we thought p'rhaps you was; and _what_ +would we do without you, you know?" + +"Why, if I's dead," said Fly, untying her bonnet strings, "then the +funy-yal would come round and take me; that's all." + +"We are most grateful to you," said Aunt Madge, turning to Mrs. Brooks, +"for bringing home this lost child; but do tell us where you found her." + +Then Mrs. Brooks related all she knew of Fly's wanderings, the little +one putting in her own explanations. + +"I didn' be lost," said she sharply. "I feel jus' like frettin', when +you say I's lost. 'Tis the truly truth; I's walking on the streets, and +a naughty woman, she's got my hangerfiss--had ashes roses on it." + +"Yes, I put some otto of rose on it this morning," said Prudy. "What a +shame!" + +"And I gave my flowers to the sick man. He was on the bed, with a blue +bed-kilt. A girl name o' Maria, tookened me home. The seeingness is all +gone out of her eyes, so she can't see." + +"How long has your husband been sick?" asked Mrs. Allen of the woman, +while she was taking lunch in the dining-room. "Did you tell me he knew +Colonel Allen?" + +Mrs. Brooks dropped her knife and fork; but her lips trembled so she +could not speak. Flyaway, who sat in Horace's lap, eating ginger-snaps, +exclaimed, "She wants some perjerves, auntie. She don't get no +perjerves, nor nuffin nice to her house." + +"'Sh!" whispered Horace. The woman looked so respectable and well bred, +that it seemed a great rudeness to allude to her poverty. + +But Mrs. Brooks drank some water, and then answered Aunt Madge, +calmly,-- + +"I'm not ashamed of being poor, Mrs. Allen; it's no disgrace, for there +never was an honester man than my husband, nor none that worked harder, +till a beam fell on him from the roof of a house, two years ago, and he +lost the use of his limbs.--Yes, ma'am; he did use to know your husband. +He was one of the workmen that helped build this house. I came and +looked on when he was setting these very doors." + +"What is his name?" asked Aunt Madge, looking very much interested, and +taking out her note-book and pencil. "What street and number?" + +"Cyrus Brooks, Number Blank, Blank Street, ma'am. Before the accident, +we lived on Thirty-third Street, in very good shape; but, little by +little, we were obliged to sell off, and finally had to move into pretty +snug quarters. But we've always got enough to eat, such as it was," +added the good woman, trying not to show much she enjoyed her lunch. + +"I am very glad Providence has sent you here, Mrs. Brooks," said Aunt +Madge, warmly. "I know Colonel Allen will seek you out when he comes +home next week; but I shall not wait for that; I shall write him this +very night." + +Mrs. Brooks' heart was so full that she had to cry into a coarse purple +handkerchief of Bennie's, which happened to be in her pocket, and felt +very much ashamed because she could not find her voice again, or any +words in which to tell her gratitude. It was just as well, though. Mrs. +Allen knew words were not everything. It gave her pleasure to fill a +huge basket with nice things--wine and jelly for the sick man, plain +food for the family, and a pretty woolen dress for Maria, which had been +intended for Mrs. Fixfax, the housekeeper. + +The children looked on delighted, while the basket was filled with +these articles, then passed over to Nathaniel, who was going home with +Mrs. Brooks. It was amusing to watch Nathaniel, with the monstrous +burden in his hands trying to help Mrs. Brooks down the front steps; for +Aunt Madge was not enough of a fine lady to send the pair around by the +servants' door. + +It was pleasant, too, to watch Mrs. Brooks's happy face, half hidden in +the hood of her water-proof cloak, which kept puffing out, in the high +wind, like a sail. She was going home to tell her husband the Lord had +heard her prayers, and she had found a friend. + +"And you may depend I never talked so easy to anybody in my life, pa;" +this was what she thought she should say. "I didn't _have_ to beg. Mrs. +Allen is one of the Lord's own; I saw it the minute I clapped my eyes +on her face." + +"I am going to see that woman to-morrow, and ask some questions about +her blind daughter," said Aunt Madge, turning away from the window. + +"Ask 'bout her nose, too." + +"Whose nose, Fly?" + +"The woman's. It keeps a-moving when she talks." + +"There, who else noticed that?" exclaimed Horace, tossing his young +sister aloft. "It takes Fly, with her little eye, to see things." + +"But I didn't ask her nuffin 'bout it, though, Horace Clifford. God made +her so, with a wire in." + +Everybody smiled at the notion of Mrs. Brooks being a wax doll. + +"What a queer day it has been!" said Prudy. "Nothing but hide and seek. +We'll all keep together next time, and lock hands tight." + +"Of course," said Dotty, quickly; "but look here; don't you think +'twould be safer not to let Fly go with us? She was the one that made +all the fuss." + +"Want to know if she was," said Horace, slyly. "Guess there are two +sides to that story." + +"At any rate," struck in Aunt Madge, "Fly was the one that did the most +business. You went round doing good--didn't you, dear?" + +"Little city missionary," said Horace. + +Whereupon Miss Fly modestly dropped her head on her brother's shoulder. +She concluded she had done something wonderful in running after a dog. + +"On the whole," continued auntie, "we've all had a very hard time. It's +only three o'clock; but seems to me the day has been forty hours long. +Let us rest, now, and have a quiet little evening, and go to bed early." + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +FIVE MAKING A CALL. + + +The next morning everybody felt fresh, and ready for new adventures. + +"All going but the cat," said Fly, never doubting that her own company +was most desirable. + +"Look up in my eyes, little Topknot with the blue bonnet on. Will you +run away from brother Hollis again?" + +"Not if you don't take my skipt," replied Fly, looking as innocent as a +spring violet. + +"And look up in _my_ eyes, Horace Clifford. Will you run away from +Cousin Dotty, again?" said Miss Dimple, in a hurry to speak before Aunt +Madge came up to them, and before Horace had time for a joke. + +"I didn't run away from you, young lady, but I ran _after_ you, if I +remember," said Horace, dryly. "I don't mean to pursue you with my +attentions to-day. You seem to be able to take care of yourself." + +"Look," cried Aunt Madge, coming up to them with Prudy; "did you ever +before see a span of horses with a dog running between them?" + +"Never," said Doty; "what splendid horses! and don't the dog have to +trot, to keep up? How do you suppose he happened to get in there?" + +"O, he has been trained to it; dogs often are. Now, my young friends, it +seems we have started for Brooklyn again; but on our way to Fulton +Ferry, I would like to stop and see the Brooks family. We must all go +together, though. 'United we stand, divided we fall.'" + +"That's so," said Horace, as they entered the stage. "But, auntie, do +you have perfect faith in the story that woman tells? Perhaps her +hushand is only just lazy, and her daughter shams blindness. You know +what humbugs some of 'em are. I've read there's something they rub over +their eyes, that gives 'em the appearance of being as blind as a bat." + +Prudy looked up at Horace with admiration and respect. He spoke like a +person of deep wisdom and wide experience. + +"We will see for ourselves what we think of the family," said Aunt +Madge. + +"Now," said she, after they had ridden a mile or two, "we must get out +here, and walk a few blocks to the house. Fly, hold your brother's hand +tight." + +"There's the chamer where the boy lives that says swear words; and +there's the boy, ahind the window." + +"Have a free ride, little girl?" shouted Izzy Paul, laughing; for he +remembered faces as well as Fly did, and saw at once that it was the +same child he had frightened so the day before. But Fly never knew fear +where Horace was; she clung to him, and peeped out boldly between her +fingers. + +When they went "down cellow," as she called it, into Mr. Brooks's house, +Aunt Madge was surprised to see how bare it looked. But Dotty Dimple +need not have held her skirts so tightly about her, and brushed her +elbow so carefully when it hit against the wall; for the house was as +clean as hands could make it. + +"Mrs. Brooks, I hope you will forgive me for coming down upon you with +this little army," said Mrs. Allen, with such a cheery smile that the +sick man on the bed felt as if a flood of pure sunshine had burst into +the room. He was so tired of lying there, day after day, like a great +rag baby, and so glad to see anybody, especially the good lady who, his +wife said, was "so easy to talk to!" + +"Auntie, look! see the freckled doggie; and there's my flowers, true's +you live," cried Flyaway. + +"Yes, pa wanted them in a vial, close to his bed; it's the first he's +seen this winter," said Maria, stroking Fly as if she had been a kitten. + +"You may be sure, little lady, it will be as I said; they'll cure me +full as quick as camphire. And, thank the Lord, I can see as well as +smell," said Mr. Brooks, with a tender glance at Maria which made +Horace feel ashamed of himself. The idea of that poor child's rubbing +anything into her eyes? Why, she looked like a wounded bird that had +been out in a storm. Her face was really almost beautiful, but so sad +that you could not see it without a feeling of pity. + +"She looks as if she was walking in her sleep," thought Prudy, and +turned away to hide a tear; for somehow there was a chord in her heart +that thrilled strangely. That "slow winter" came back to her with a +rush, and she was sure she knew how Maria felt. + +"She is blind, and I was lame; but it is the same kind of a feeling. O, +how I wish I could help her!" + +Dotty was as sorry for Maria as she knew how to be, but she could not be +as sorry as Prudy was; for she had never had any trouble greater than a +sore throat. + +"I don't see why the tears don't come into my eyes as easy as they do +into Prudy's," thought she, trying to squeeze out a salt drop; "Mrs. +Brooks'll think I don't care a speck; but I do care." + +As for wee Fly, she took Maria's blindness to heart about as much as she +did the murder of the Hebrew children off in Judea. + +"Pitiful 'bout her seeingness; but I wished I had such a beauful dog!" + +Aunt Madge was struck with the exalted expression of Maria's face. The +child was only thirteen, but suffering had made her look much older. + +"My child," said she, putting her arm around the little girl, and +drawing her towards her, "I know you see a great deal with your mind, +even though your eyes are shut. Now, do tell me all about your +misfortune, and how it happened, for I came on purpose to hear." + +"Yes, we camed to purpose to hear," said Fly, from the foot-board of the +bed, where she had perched and prattled every moment since she came in. +"I founded Maria, and then I went up to her, and says I, 'Doggie, +doggie!'" + +"That was a pretty way to speak to her, I should think," said Dotty; +"but can't you just please to hush while auntie is talking?" + +"As near as I can tell the story," said Mrs. Brooks, rattling the poor +old coal-stove,--for she always had to be moving something else, as well +as her nose, when she talked,--"she lost her sight by studying too +hard, and then getting cold in her eyes." + +"She was always a master hand to study," put in Mr. Brooks. + +Maria looked as if she wanted to run and hide. She did not like to have +her father praise her before people. + +"Yes," said Mrs. Brooks, setting a chair straight; "and by and by the +_leds_ began to draw together, and she couldn't keep 'em open; and there +was such a pain in her eyes, too, that I had to be up nights, bathing +'em in all kinds of messes." + +"_Don't_ her nose jiggle?" whispered Fly to Horace. + +"Of course you took her to a good physician?" + +"Well, yes; we thought he was good. We went to three, off and on, but +she kept growing worse and worse. It was about the time her father was +hurt, and we spent an awful sight on her, till we couldn't spend any +more." + +"And it was all a cheat and a swindle," exclaimed Mr. Brooks, +indignantly. "We'd better have spent the money for a horsewhip, and +whipped them doctors with it!" + +"Don't, pa, don't! You see, Mrs. Allen, he gets so excited about it he +don't know what he says." + +"I wonder you did not take her to the City Hospital, Mrs. Brooks. There +she could be treated free of expense." + +"The fact is, we didn't dare to," replied Mrs. Brooks, taking up an old +shoe of Bennie's, and beginning to brush it; "there are folks that have +told us it ain't safe; they try experiments on poor folks." + +"O, I don't believe you need fear the City Hospital," said Mrs. Allen; +"the physicians there are honest men, and among the most skillful in +the country." + +"But that's our feeling on the subject, ma'am, you see," spoke up Mr. +Brooks, so decidedly, that Aunt Madge saw it was of no use to say any +more about it. "We don't want her eyes put out; there are times when she +can just see a little glimmer, and we want to save all there is left." + +"There are times when she can see? Then there must be hope, Mr. Brooks! +Let me take her to Dr. Blank; he can help her if any one can." + +"Well, now, I take it you're joking, Mrs. Allen. That is the very doctor +I wanted her to see in the first place; but they do say he'd ask six +hundred dollars for looking into her eyes while you'd wink twice." + +"You have been misinformed, Mr. Brooks; he never asks anything of +people who are unable to pay him. But even if he should in Maria's case, +I promise to take the matter into my own hands, and settle the bill +myself." + +"Mother, do you hear what she says!" cried Mr. Brooks, forgetting +himself, and trying to sit up in bed. + +But his wife had broken down, and was polishing Bennie's shoe with her +tears. + +"O, will you take me? Can I go to that doctor?" cried Maria, forgetting +her timidity, and turning her sightless eyes towards Mrs. Allen with a +joyful look, which seemed to glow through the lids. + +"Yes, dear child, I will take you with the greatest pleasure in life; +but remember, I don't promise you can be cured. Come with your mother, +to-morrow morning, at ten. Will that do, Mrs. Brooks? And now, good by, +all. Children, we must certainly be going." + +"God bless her," murmured the sick man, as the little party passed out. + +"Didn't I tell you she was an angel?" said his wife. + +"No, mother; it's that little tot that's the 'angel.' The Lord sent her +on ahead to spy out the land; and afterwards there comes a +flesh-and-blood woman to see it laid straight." + +"Pa thinks that baby is a spirit made out of air," said Maria, laughing +in high excitement. "And, mother, don't you really believe now the Lord +did send her, just as much as if she dropped down out of the sky?" + +"Yes, I hain't a doubt of it, Maria, but what the Lord had us in his +mind when he let the child slip off and get lost.--Pa, I'm going to +give you some of that blackberry cordial now: you look all gone." + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +"THE HEN-HOUSES." + + +While the Brooks family were talking so gratefully, and Maria counting +over the cookies and cups of jelly for the twentieth time, Fly, was +holding on to Horace's thumb, saying, as she skipped along,--"I hope the +doctor'll take a knife, and pick Maria's eyes open, so she can see." + +"Precious little _you_ care whether she can see or not," said Dotty. "I +don't think Fly has much feeling,--do you, Prudy?--not like you and I, I +mean!" + +"Pshaw! what do you expect of such a baby?" said Horace, indignantly. +"You never saw a child so full of pity as this one is, when she knows +what to be sorry for. But a great deal she understands about blindness! +And why should she?--Look here, Topknot; which would you rather do? Have +your eyes put out, and lots of candy to eat, _or_, your eyes all good, +and not a speck of candy as long as you live?" + +"I'd ravver have the candy '_thout_ blind-eyed?" + +"But supposing you couldn't have but one?" + +Fly reflected seriously for half a minute, and then answered, + +"I'd ravver have the candy _with_ blind-eyed!" + +"There, girls, what did I tell you?" + +"'Cause I could eat the candy athout looking, you know," added Fly, +shutting her eyes, and putting a sprig of cedar in her mouth, by way of +experiment. + +"You little goosie," said Prudy; "when Aunt Madge was crying so about +Maria, I did think you were a hard-hearted thing to look up and laugh; +but now, I don't believe you knew any better." + +"Hard-hearted things will soften," said auntie, kissing the baby's +puzzled face. "Little bits of green apples, how hard they are! but they +keep growing mellow." + +"O, you little green apple," cried Dotty, pinching Fly's cheek. + +"I was rather hard-hearted, if I remember, when I was an apple of that +size," continued Aunt Madge. "I could tell you of a few cruel things I +said and did." + +"Tell them," said Horace; "please 'fess." + +"Yes, auntie, naughty things are so interesting. Do begin and tell all +about it." + +"Not on the street, dears. Some time, during the holidays, I may turn +story-teller, if you wish it; but here we are at the ferry; now look out +for the mud." + +"O, what a place," cried Fly, clinging to Horace, and trying to walk on +his boots. "Just like where grampa keeps his pig!" + +"How true, little sister! but you needn't use my feet for a sidewalk. +I'll take you up in my arms. It snowed in the night; but that makes it +all the muddier." + +"Yes, it doesn't do snow any good to fall into New York mud," said Aunt +Madge; "it is like touching pitch." + +"I thought it felt like pitch," remarked Dotty; "sticks to your boots +so." + +"But, then, overhead how beautiful it is!" said Prudy. "I should think +the dirty earth would be ashamed to look up at such a clear sky." + +"But the sky don't mind," returned Horace; "it always overlooks dirt." + +"How very sharp we are getting!" laughed auntie; "we have begun the day +brilliantly. Any more remarks from anybody?" + +"I should like to know," said Dotty, "what all those great wooden things +are made for? I never saw such big hen-houses before!" + +"Hear her talk!" exclaimed auntie. "Hen-houses, indeed! Why, that is +Fulton Market. I shall take you through it when we come back. You can +buy anything in there, from a live eel to a book of poetry." + +"'In mud eel is,'" quoted Horace. "Reckon I'll buy one, auntie, and +carry it home in a piece of brown paper. I believe Dotty is fond of +eels." + +"Fond of eels! Why, Horace Clifford, you know I can't bear 'em, any +more'n a snake. If you do such a thing, Horace Clifford!" + +Here Prudy gave her talkative sister a pinch; for they were surrounded +by people, and Aunt Madge was giving ferry-tickets to a man who stood in +a stall, and brushed them towards him into a drawer. + +"Does he stay in it all night?" whispered Fly; "he can't lie down, no +more'n a hossy can." + +"Here, child, don't try to get down out of my arms. I must carry you +into the boat. Do you suppose I'd trust those wee, wee feet to go flying +over East River?" + +"For don't we know she has wings on her heels?" said Aunt Madge. + +Fly twisted around one of her little rubbers, and looked at it. She +understood the joke, but thought it too silly to laugh at. East River +lay smiling in the sun, white with sails. + +"Almost as pretty as our Casco Bay," said Dotty. "'Winona;' is that the +boat we are going in? But, Horace, you must cross to the other side, +where it says 'Gentlemen's Cabin.'" + +"How kind you are to take care of me! Wish you'd take as good care of +yourself, Cousin Dimple." + +And Horace walked straight into the "Ladies' Cabin." There were more men +in it, though, than women; so he had the best side of the argument. + +"Horace," said Aunt Madge, as they seated themselves, "where is your +money?" + +"Money? O, in the breast pocket of my coat." + +"But don't you remember, my boy, I advised you to leave it at home? See +that placard, right before your eyes." + +"'Beware of Pickpockets!'" read Horace. "Well, auntie, I intend to +beware." + +Mrs. Allen did not like his lord-of-creation tone. It was not exactly +disrespectful. He adored his aunt, and did not mean to snub her. At the +same time he had paid no attention to her advice, and his cool, +self-possessed way of setting it one side was very irritating. If Mrs. +Allen had not been the sweetest of women, she would have enjoyed boxing +his ears. + +"I wish he was two years younger, and then he would have to obey me," +thought she; "but I don't like to lay my commands on a boy of fourteen." + +The truth was, Horace had a large swelling on the top of his head, known +by the name of self-esteem; and it had got bruised a little the day +before, when he was obliged to stand one side, and let his aunt manage +about finding Flyaway. + +"I suppose she thinks I'm a ninny, just because I don't understand this +bothersome city; but I reckon I know a thing or two, if I don't live in +New York!" + +And the foolish boy really took some satisfaction in slapping his breast +pockets, and remarking to his friends,-- + +"'Twould take a smart chap to get his hand in there without my knowing +it. O, Prudy, where's your wallet? And yours, Dotty? I can carry them as +well as not. There's no knowing what kind of a muss you may be getting +into before night." + +Prudy gave up hers without a word, but Dotty demurred. + +"I guess I've got eyes both sides my head, just the same as Horace has, +if I am a girl." + +She and Cousin Horace usually agreed, but this visit had begun wrong. + +"Very well, Dot; if you think 'twould be any consolation to you to have +somebody come along with a pair of scissors, and snip off your pocket, I +don't know as it's any of my business." + +"See if they do," replied Dotty, clutching her pocket in her right hand. + +They had been speaking in loud tones, and perhaps had been overheard; +for two men, on the same seat, began to talk of the unusual number of +robberies that had happened within a few days and to wonder "what we +were coming to next." In consequence of this, Dotty pinned up her +pocket. When they reached Brooklyn, she gave her left hand to Horace, in +stepping off the boat, and walked up Fulton Street, with her right hand +firmly grasping the skirt of her dress. + +"Good for you, Dimple!" said Horace, in a low tone; "that's one way of +letting people know you've got money. Look behind you! There's been a +man following you for some time." + +"Where? O, where?" cried Dotty, whirling round and round in wild alarm; +"I don't see a man anywhere near." + +"And there isn't one to be seen," said Aunt Madge, laughing; "there's +nobody following you but Horace himself. He had no right to frighten you +so." + +"Horace!" echoed Dotty, with infinite scorn; "I don't call _him_ a man! +He's nothing but a small boy!" + +"A small boy!" She had finished the business now. + +"The hateful young monkey!" thought Horace. "I shouldn't care much if +she did have her pocket picked." + +If he had meant a word of this, which he certainly did not, he was well +paid for it afterwards. + +They went to Greenwood Cemetery, which Dotty had to confess was +handsomer than the one in Portland. Fly thought there were nice places +to "hide ahind the little white houses," which frightened her brother so +much, that he carried her in his arms every step of the way. After +strolling for some time about Greenwood, and taking a peep at Prospect +Park, they left the "city of churches," and entered a crowded car to go +back to the ferry. + +"Look out for _our_ money," whispered Prudy; "you know auntie says a car +is the very place to lose it in." + +"Yes; I'll look out for your pile, Prue, though I dare say you don't +feel quite so easy about it as you would if Dot had it." + +"Wow, Horace, don't be cross; you know it isn't often I have so much +money." + +Aunt Madge here gave both the children a very expressive glance, as much +as to say,-- + +"Don't mention private affairs in such a crowd." + +Colonel Allen said if his wife had been born deaf and dumb nobody would +have mistrusted it, for she could talk with her eyes as well as other +people with their tongues. + +When they were on the New York side once more, Mrs. Allen said,-- + +"Now I will take you through Dotty's hen-houses. What have we here? O, +Christmas greens." + +A woman stood at one of the stands, tying holly and evergreens together +into long strips, which she sold by the yard. + +"We must adorn the house, children. I will buy some of this, if you will +help carry it home." + +"Load me down," said Horace; "I'll take a mile of it." + +"Loaden me down, too; _I'll_ take it a mile," said Fly. + +"Give me that beautiful cross to carry, auntie." + +"Are you willing to carry crosses, Prudy? Ah, you've learned the lesson +young!" + +"I like the star best," said Dotty; "why can't they make suns and moons, +too!" + +"Will you have a _hanker_, my pretty miss?" said the woman, dropping a +courtesy. + +"I never heard of a _hanker_; it looks some like a kettle-hook. Let's +buy it; see how nicely it fits on Fly's shoulder." + +"It would look better for Fly to sit on the anchor," said Mrs. Allen, +smiling. "It is droll enough to see such a big thing walking off with a +little girl under it. Come, children, we have bought all we can carry." + +"Thank you kindly, lady," said the evergreen woman, with another +courtesy. + +"I don't see why she need thank you kindly, auntie," said Dotty. "You +wouldn't have bought her wreaths if you hadn't liked 'em." + +They walked through a long space lined with such nice things that the +children's mouths watered--oranges, figs, grapes, pears, French +chestnuts larger than oil-nuts, and, as if that were not enough, +delicious-looking pies, cakes, cold ham, and doughnuts. On little +charcoal stoves stood coffee-pots; and there was a great clattering of +plates and cups and saucers, which men were washing in little pans, and +wiping on rather dark towels. + +"It strikes me I should enjoy going into one of those cuddy-holes and +eating my dinner," said Horace. "I feel about starved." + +"You have a right to be hungry. It is two o'clock. How would you like +some oysters? In here is a large room, with tables; rather more +comfortable than these 'cuddy-holes,' as you call them." + +"Only not nice," said Prudy. "O, Horace, if you should go once to an +oyster saloon in Boston, you'd see the difference!" + +"The probability is, I've been in Boston saloons twice to your once, +ma'am." + +Which was correct. She had been once, and he twice. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +"GRANNY." + + +Aunt Madge seated her four guests at a little table. + +"Will you have oysters or scallops?" + +"What are scallops?" + +"They are a sort of fish; taste a little like oysters. They come out of +those small shells, such as you've seen pin-cushions made of." + +The children thought they should prefer oysters; and after the stews +were ordered, Mrs. Allen went out, and soon returned with a dessert of +cake, pie, and fruit. + +"I thought I would bring it all at once," said she, "just what I know +you will like; and then sit down and be comfortable. We'll lay the +wreaths under the table. There are no napkins, girls (this isn't Boston, +you know); so you'd better tuck your handkerchiefs under your chins." + +"But is this the handsomest place they've got in New York, without any +carpet to it?" whispered Dotty. + +"We'll see, one of these days," replied auntie, with a smile that spoke +volumes. + +It was a very jolly dinner, and Mrs. Allen had to send for three plates +of scallops; for the children found, after tasting hers, that they were +very nice; all but Fly, who did not relish them, and thought it was +because she did not like to eat pin-cushions. + +"Now, little folks, if you have eaten sufficiently, and are thoroughly +rested, shall we start for home? I think a journey to Brooklyn is about +enough for one day--don't you? But you musn't leave without seeing +Granny." + +"Granny?" + +"Yes, I call her so, and it pleases her. She has had a little table in +the market for a long while, and I like to buy some of her goodies just +to encourage her, for she has such a way of looking on the bright side +that she wins my respect. Listen, now, while I speak to her." + +Auntie's old woman had on a hood and shawl, and was curled up in a +little heap, half asleep. + +"Pleasant day," said Mrs. Allen, going up to the table. + +"Yes, mum; nice weather _underful_," returned the old woman, rousing +herself, and rubbing an apple with her shawl. + +"And how do you do, Granny?" + +"Why, is that you?" said she, the sun coming out all over her face. +"And how've you been, mum, since the last time I've seen yer?" + +"Very well, Granny; and how do things prosper with you?" + +"O, _I'm_ all right! I've had a touch of rheumaty, and this is the fust +I've stirred for two weeks." + +"Sorry to hear it, Granny. Rheumatism can't be very comfortable." + +"Well, no; it's bahd for the jints," said the old woman, holding up her +fingers, which were as shapeless as knobby potatoes. + +"Poor Granny! How hard that is!" + +"Well, they be hard, and kind o' stiff-like. But bless ye," laughed she, +"that's nothing. I wouldn't 'a' cared, only I's afeared I'd lose this +stand. There was a gyurl come and kep' it for me, what time she could +spare." + +"I'm glad you havn't lost the stand, Granny; but I don't see how you can +laugh at the rheumatism." + +"Well, mum, what'd be the use to cry? Why, bless ye, there's wus +things'n that! As long's I hain't got no husband, I don't feel to +complain!" + +She shook her sides so heartily at this, that Fly laughed aloud. + +"So you don't approve of husbands, Granny?" + +"No more I don't, mum; they're troublesome craychers, so fur as I've +seen." + +"But don't you get down-hearted, living all alone?" + +"O, no, mum; I do suppose I'm the happiest woman in the city o' New +Yorruk. When I goes to bed, I just gives up all my thrubbles to the +Lord, and goes to sleep." + +"But when you are sick, Granny?" + +"O, then, sometimes I feels bahd, not to be airnin' nothin', and gets +some afeard o' the poorhouse; but, bless ye, I can't help thinking the +Lord'll keep me out." + +"I'm pretty sure He will," said Aunt Madge, resolving on the spot that +the good old soul never should go to a place she dreaded so much. "Have +you any butter-scotch to-day, Granny?" + +"O, yes, mum; sights of it. Help yourself. I want to tell you +something'll please you," said the old woman, bending forward, and +speaking in a low tone, and with sparkling eyes. "I've put some money in +the bank, mum; enough to bury me! _Ain't_ that good!" + +Prudy and Dotty were terribly shocked. She must be crazy to talk about +her own funeral. As if she was glad of it, too? But Horace thought it a +capital joke. + +"That's a jolly way to use your money," whispered he to Prudy; "much +good may it do her?" And then aloud, in a patronizing tone, "I'll take a +few of your apples, Granny. How do you sell 'em?" + +"These here, a penny apiece; them there, two pennies; and them, three." + +Horace felt in his coat pocket for his purse; and drew out his hand +quickly, as if a bee had stung it. + +"Why, what! What does this mean?" + +"What is it, Horace?" + +"Nothing, auntie, only my wallet's gone," replied the boy, very white +about the mouth. + +"Gone? Look again. Are you sure?" + +"Yes, as sure as I want to be?" + +"Mine,--is mine gone too?" cried Prudy. + +Horace did not seem willing to answer. + +"Where did you have your purse last?" + +"Just before we came out of Dorlon's oyster saloon. Just before we came +here for butter-scotch," replied Horace, glaring fiercely at Granny. + +"Are you quite sure?" + +"Is mine gone, too?" cried Prudy again. "Did you put mine in the same +pocket?" + +"Yes, Prue; I put yours in the same pocket; and it's gone, too." + +"O, Horace!" + +"A pretty clean sweep, Prue." + +"The _vilyins_!" cried Granny; looking, auntie thought, as if her whole +soul was stirred with pity for the children; but, as Horace thought, as +if she were trying to put a bold face on a very black crime. + +"Let us go back to Dorlon's, and ask the waiters if you dropped it in +there," suggested Aunt Madge. + +"Yes, but _I know I didn't,"_ said Horace, with another scowl at Granny. + +"_My_ money is safe," said self-righteous Dotty, as they walked away; +"don't you wish you _had_ given yours to me, Prudy?" + +"The deceitful old witch!" muttered Horace; meaning Granny, of course. + +And lo, there she stood close behind them! She was beckoning Mrs. Allen +back to her fruit-stand. + +"Wait here one minute, children; I'll be right back." + +"Nothin', mum," said Granny, looking very much grieved; "nothin' only I +wants to say, mum, if that youngster thinks as I took his money, I wisht +you'd sarch me." + +"Fie, Granny! Never mind what a boy like that says, when he is excited. +I know you too well to think you'd steal." + +"The Lord bless you, mum," cried the old woman, all smiles again. + +"And, Granny, I mean to come here next week, and I'll bring you some +flannel and liniment for your rheumatism. Where shall I leave them if +you're sick, and can't be here?" + +"O, thank ye, mum; thank ye kindly. The ain't many o' the likes of you, +mum. And if ye does bring the things for my rheumaty, and I ain't here, +just ye leave 'em with the gyurl at this stand, if yer will." + +"Did she give it back?" cried Horace, the moment his aunt appeared. + +"No, my boy; how could she when she hadn't it to give?" + +"But, auntie, I'm up and down sure I felt that wallet in my +breast-pocket, when we came out of Dorlon's," persisted Horace. "I don't +see how on earth that old woman contrived it; but I can't help +remembering how she kept leaning forward when she talked; and once she +hit square against me. And just about that time I was drawing out my +handkerchief to wipe my nose." + +"Yes, he did! He wiped his nose. And the woman tookened the money; I saw +her do it." + +"There, I told you so!" + +"You saw her, Miss Policeman Flyaway?" said Aunt Madge. "And pray how +did she take it?" + +"Just so,--right in her hand." + +"O, you mean the money for the butter-scotch, you little tease!" + +"Yes," replied the child, with a roguish twinkle over the sensation she +had made. + +"Just like little bits o' flies," said Dotty. "Don't care how folks +feel. And here's her brother ready to cry; heart all broken." + +"Needn't be concerned about my heart, Dot; 'tisn't broken yet; only +cracked. But how anybody could get at my pocket, without my knowing it, +is a mystery to me, unless Granny is a witch." + +"Horace, I pledge you my word Granny is innocent." + +"And I'm sure nobody else could take it, auntie. The clerks at Dorlon's +had no knowledge of the money; neither had any of the apple or pie +merchants along the market. Things look darker for us, Prue; but I will +give you the credit of behaving like a lady. And one thing is sure--the +moment I get home to Indiana I shall send you back your money." + +"Horace," said Aunt Madge, "I am very suspicious that you lost your +purse in one of those cars, on the Brooklyn side." + +"But, auntie, I tell you there couldn't anybody get at my pockets +without my knowing it!" + +"Just as Prudy told you you would, you lost it in that car," echoed +Dotty. "Don't you remember what you said, Prudy?" + +"That's right; hit him again," growled Horace. + +"Now, Dotty," said Prudy, suppressing a great sob in her effort to +"behave like a lady," "what's the use? Don't you suppose Horace feels +bad enough without being scolded at?" + +"Auntie don't scold, nor Prudy don't, 'cause he didn't mean to lose +it," said Fly, frowning at Dotty, and caressing Horace, with her hands +full of evergreens. + +"Besides, he has lost more than I have," continued Prudy. + +"Well, a trifle more! Fifty times as much, say. I shouldn't care a +fig,--speaking figuratively,--only it was all I had to get home with." + +"Don't fret about that," said Aunt Madge; "I'll see that you go home +with as full a purse as you brought to my house." + +"O, auntie, how can I thank you? But you know father never would allow +that!" + +"I could tell you how to thank me," thought Mrs. Allen, though she was +so kind she would _not_ tell; "you could thank me by saying, 'Auntie, +I've been a naughty boy.'" + +But Horace had no idea of making such a confession as that. "The +money'll come up," said he; "I'm one of the lucky kind. Let's see; +wouldn't it be best to advertise?" + +"Thieves won't answer advertisements," said Mrs. Allen. + +"But, I tell you, auntie, I dropped that wallet. I could take my oath of +it." + +"Well, in such a case an advertisement is the proper thing. But, my boy, +your positiveness on this subject is extraordinary. How could you drop +the wallet? Do you keep it in the same pocket with your handkerchief?" + +"On, no, auntie; right in here." + +"And you haven't bought anything?" + +"No, auntie; you wouldn't let me pay the car fare, or anything else. But +still I must have taken out the wallet by mistake. You see I _know_ +nobody's picked my pockets." + +"Why, Horace, you just said Granny picked 'em." + +"No, Dot, I didn't! I only spoke of the queer way she had of leaning +forward." + +"But you scowled at her sharp enough to take head off." + +"If I were you, Dot, I wouldn't be any more disagreeable than I was +absolutely obliged to.--Now, auntie, how much does it cost to +advertise?" + +"A dollar or so I believe." + +"Well, if you'll lend me the money, I want to do it." + +"To be plain with you, Horace, I really do not think it will be of the +slightest use in this case; but I will consent to it if it will be any +relief to your mind. We shall be obliged to cross the ferry again, for +the advertisement ought to go into a Brooklyn paper." + +"We are tired enough to drop," said Dotty; "and all these stars and +things, too!" + +"Yes, we are all tired; but we will leave you little girls at the +ferry-house on the other side." + +"But, auntie," said Prudy, anxiously, "I shouldn't really dare have the +care of Fly. You know just how it is." + +"Yes, I do know just how it is. Fly must walk, with her tired little +feet, to the Eagle office, with Horace and me; or else she must make a +solemn promise not to go out of the ferry-house." + +"But I don't want to make a _solomon_ promise, auntie; I want to see the +eagle." + +Mrs. Allen sighed. She began to think she had undertaken a great task +in inviting these children to visit her. Instead of a pleasure, they had +proved, thus far, a weariness--always excepting Prudy. She, dear, +self-forgetting little girl, could not fail to be a comfort wherever she +went. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +THE PUMPKIN HOOD. + + +To the "Eagle" office they went--obstinate Horace, patient Annt Madge, +and between them the "blue-bottle Fly." + +"I do feel right sorry, auntie," said Horace, a sudden sense of shame +coming over him; "but I'm so sure I dropped the money, you know; or I +wouldn't drag you up this hill when you're so tired." + +A sharp answer rose to Mrs. Allen's lips, but she held it back. + +"Only a boy! In a fair way to learn a useful lesson, too. Let me keep my +temper! If I scold, I spoil the whole." + +They entered the office, and left with the editor this advertisement:-- + +"Lost.--Between Prospect Park and Fulton Ferry, a porte-monnaie, marked +'Horace S. Clifford,' containing thirty-five dollars. The finder will be +suitably rewarded by leaving the same at No. ----, Cor. Fifth Ave. and +---- Street." + +"It is no matter about advertising Prudy's purse, it was so shabby," +said Aunt Madge; and on their way back to the ferry-house she bought her +another. + +"O, thank you, auntie, darling," said Prudy; "and thank you, too, +Horace, for losing my old one; it wasn't fit to be seen. And here is a +whole dollar inside! O, Aunt Madge, _are_ you an angel?" + +"Prue, you deserve your good luck; you don't come down on a fellow, +hammer and tongs, because he happens to meet with an accident." + +"Horace," said Dotty, meekly, "are you willing to carry my gloves?" + +"Yes, to be sure; but you don't want to go home bare-handed--do you?" + +"Why, I was thinking how nice 'twould be, Horace, to have you take 'em, +and lose 'em, and me have a new pair. There's a hole in the thumb." + +This little sally amused everybody, and Horace had the grace not to be +sensitive, though the laugh was against him. + +"Another queer day," said he, when they were at last at home again. "I +don't know what will become of us all, if we keep on like this." + +The poor boy was trying his best to brave it out; but Aunt Madge could +see that his heart was sore. + +"Lost every cent I'm worth," mused he, turning his coat-pocket inside +out, and scowling at it. "Got to be a beggar as long as I stay in New +York!" + +The whole party were tired, and Horace's gloom seemed to fill the parlor +like a fog, and make even the gas look dim. + +"I feel dreffly," said Fly, curling her head under her brother's arm, +like a chicken under its mother's wing--a way she had when she was +troubled. "I feel just zif I didn't love nobody in the world, and there +didn't nobody love me." + +This brought Horace around in a minute, and called forth a pickaback +ride. + +"Music! let us have music," said Aunt Madge, flying to the piano. "When +little folks grow so cold-hearted, in my house, that they don't love +anybody, it's time to warm their hearts with some happy little songs. +Come, girls!" + +She played a few simple tunes, and the children all sang till the fog +of gloom had disappeared, and the gas burned brightly once more. + +Half an hour afterwards, just as Fly was told she ought to be sleepy, +because her bye-low hymn had been sung,--"Sleep, little one, like a lamb +in the fold,"--and she had answered that she "couldn't be sleepy, athout +auntie would hurry quick to come in with a drink of water," there was a +strange arrival. Nathaniel, the waiting man, ushered into the parlor a +droll little old woman, dressed in a short calico gown, with gay figures +over it as large as cabbages; calf-skin shoes; and a green pumpkin hood, +with a bow on top. + +"Good evening, ma'am," said Horace, rising, and offering her a chair. +She did not seem to see very well, in spite of her enormous spectacles; +for she took no notice of the chair, and remained standing in the +middle of the floor. + +[Illustration: THE PUMPKIN HOOD.] + +"She stares at me so hard!" thought Horace--"that's the reason she can't +see anything else."--"Please take a chair, ma'am." + +"Can't stop to sit down. Is your name Horace S. Clifford?" said the old +woman, in a very feeble voice. + +Horace looked at her; she had not a tooth in her head. + +"Yes, ma'am; my name is Horace Clifford," said he, respectfully. He had +great reverence for age, and could keep his mouth from twitching; but +I'm sorry to say Prudy's danced up at the corners, and Dotty's opened +and showed her back teeth The woman must have had all those clothes made +when she was young, for nobody wore such things now; but it wasn't +likely she knew that, poor soul! + +"Did you go to the 'Brooklyn Eagle' office, to-day, to ad-_ver_-tise +some lost money, little boy?" + +"Yes, ma'am.--Why, that advertisement can't have been printed _so_ +quick!" + +"No, I calculate not. Did you go in with a lady, and a leetle, oneasy, +springy kind of a leetle girl?" + +"Why, that's me," put in Fly. + +"Yes, ma'am--yes; were you there? What do you know about it?" + +"Don't be in a hurry, little boy. I want to be safe and sure. I expect +you took notice of a young man in a bottle-green coat,--no, a +greenish-black coat,--a-sittin' down by the door." + +"O, I don't know. Yes, I think I did. Was he the one? Did he find the +money?" + +"Did you walk up Orange Street?" continued the old woman. "No, I mean +Cranberry Street?" + +"O, _dear_, I don't know! Prudy, run, call Aunt Madge. Please tell me, +ma'am, have you got it with you? Is my name on the inside?" + +"Wait till the little girl calls your aunt. Perhaps she'd be willing to +let me tell the story in my own way. I'd ruther deal with grown folks," +said the provoking old lady. + +Horace's eyes flashed, but he contrived to keep his temper. + +"It is my purse, ma'am, and my aunt knows nothing about it. I can tell +you just how it looks, and all there is in it." + +"Perhaps you are one of the kind that can tell folks a good deal, and +thinks nobody knows things so well as yourself," returned the +disagreeable old woman, smiling and showing her toothless gums. "From +what I can learn, I should judge you talked ruther too loud about your +money; for there was a pusson heerd you in the ferry-boat, and took +pains to go in the same car afterwards, and pick your pocket." + +"Pick--my--pocket?" + +"Yes, your pocket. You wise, wonderful young man!" + +"How? When? Where?" + +"This is how," said the old woman, quick as a thought putting out her +hand, and thrusting it into Horace's breast pocket. + +"O, it's auntie's rings--it's auntie's rings," cried Fly, jumping up, +and seizing the pretended old woman by her calico sleeve. + +"Why, Aunt Madge, that isn't you!" + +"But how'd you take out yer teeth?" said Fly; "your teeth? your teeth?" + +"O, I didn't take them out, Miss Bright-eyes. I only put a little spruce +gum over them." + +"Horace, I can't find auntie anywhere in this house," said Prudy, +appearing at the parlor door. "Do you suppose she's gone off and hid?" + +"Yes, she's hid inside that old gown." + +"What do you mean?" + +"That's auntie, and her teeth's _in_," explained Fly. + +"Only I wish she was an old woman, and had really brought me my money," +said Horace, in a disappointed tone. "I declare, there was one time I +thought the old nuisance was coming round to it, and going to give me +the wallet." + +"What a wise, wonderful youth!" said the aged dame, in a cracked voice. +"Thinks I can give him his wallet, when he's got it himself, right close +to his heart." + +Horace put his hand in his breast pocket. + +Wonder of wonders! There was the wallet! And not only his, but Prudy's! +Had he been asleep all day? Or was he asleep now? + +"Money safe? Not a cent gone. Hoo-rah! Hoo-ra-ah!" + +And for want of a cap to throw, he threw up Fly. + +"Where did it come from? Where did the old woman find it? O, no; the man +in the green-bottle coat?--O, no; there wasn't any old woman," cried the +children, hopelessly confused. "But who found the money? Did I drop it +on Cranberry Street?" "Did he drop it on Quamby Street?" "Who brought +it?" "Who bringed it?" + +Aunt Madge stuffed her fingers into her ears. "They are all talking at +once; they're enough to craze a body! They forget how old I am! Came all +the way from the Eagle office, afoot and alone, with only four children +to--" + +"O, auntie, don't play any more! Talk sober! Talk honest! Did Horace +have his pockets picked?" + +"Yes, he did," replied Aunt Madge, speaking in her natural tones, and +throwing off the pumpkin hood; "if you want the truth, he did." + +"Why Aunt Madge Allen! It does not seem possible! Who picked my +pockets?" + +"Some one who heard you talking so loud about your money." + +"But how could it be taken out, and I not know it?" + +"Quite as easily as it could be put back, and you not know it." + +"That's true, Horace Clifford! Auntie put it back, and you never knew +it." + +"So she did," said Horace, looking as bewildered as if he had been +whirling around with his eyes shut; "so she did--didn't she? But that +was because I was taken by surprise, seeing her without a tooth in her +head, you know." + +"You have been taken by surprise twice to-day, then," said Aunt Madge, +demurely. "It is really refreshing, Horace, to find that such a sharp +young man _can_ be caught napping!" + +"Well, I--I--I must have been thinking, of something else, auntie." + +"So I conclude. And you must be thinking of something else still, or +you'd ask me--" + +"O, yes, auntie; how did the thief happen to give it up? There, there, +you needn't say a word! I see it all in your eyes! You took the money +yourself. O, Aunt Madge!" + +"Well, if that wasn't queer doings!" cried Dotty. + +"Yes, it is quite contrary to my usual habits. I never robbed anybody +before. I hadn't the faintest idea I could do it without Horace's +knowledge." + +"Why, auntie, I never was so astonished in my life!" said the youth, +looking greatly confused. + +"I never heard of a person's being robbed that wasn't astonished," said +Aunt Madge, with a mischievous smile. "Will you be quite as sure of +yourself another time, think?" + +"No, auntie, I shan't; that's a fact." + +"That's my good, frank boy," said Aunt Madge, kissing his forehead. "And +he won't toss his head,--just this way,--like a young lord of creation, +when meddlesome aunties venture to give him advice." + +Horace kissed Mrs. Allen's cheek rather thoughtfully, by way of reply. + +"I don't see, Aunt Madge," said Prudy, "why you went back across the +river to put that piece in the paper, when you were the one that had the +money all the time." + +"I did it to pacify Horace. He _knew_ his pockets hadn't been pieked. +Besides I felt guilty. It was rather cruel in me--wasn't it?--to let him +suffer so long." + +"Not cruel a bit; good enough for me," cried Horace, with a generous +outburst. "You're just the jolliest woman, auntie--the jolliest woman! +There you are; you look so little and sweet! But if folks think they're +going to get ahead of you, why, just let 'em try it, say I!" + + +DEAR READERS: Horace was scarcely more astonished, when his pocket was +picked, than I am this minute, to find myself at the end of my book! I +had very much more to tell; but now it must wait till another time. + +Meanwhile the Parlins and Cliffords are "climbing the dream tree." Let +us hope they are destined to meet with no more misfortunes during the +rest of their stay in New York. + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Little Folks Astray +by Sophia May (Rebecca Sophia Clarke) + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LITTLE FOLKS ASTRAY *** + +***** This file should be named 11257.txt or 11257.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/1/2/5/11257/ + +Produced by Steven desJardins and Distributed Proofreading + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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